BICYCLE ADVENTURES

         by 

           Ray Storey

…… in which I recount stories to illustrate the effectiveness

     of the bicycle for getting to know Bangkok...

TABLE OF CONTENTS

1. Bike Hire in Lumpini Park

2. Cycling in the Park

3. Big Bridge, by Bike

4. Impromptu Cycling Tour

5. Splat!

6. Things one comes across in the Neighbourhood

7. Roadkill

8. Soi Dog Mafia

9. River Breakfast Banquet

1. Bike hire in Lumpini Park

It is a cool day, so we decide to spend the morning in Lumpini Park.

Mawin has his own bike, but we will try to hire bikes; it is rumoured there are hire-bikes but we have not actually found them on our many previous visits.

We drive; finding a park is no problem on the northern side of the park; cheap too; the parking attendant is too sleepy to lift his head off his desk and take the 10baht advertised on the sign, but just lifts a finger and waggles us in.

We walk...Mawin rides...through the park and around to the western entrance, where I have seen bikes that look as though they could be hire-bikes.

We pass two outdoor gyms; there are not many users at the moment, but the few who are there are naked above the waist and displaying very impressive muscle sets.

Mawin meanders into the backs of the legs of a middle age Thai man, who displays remarkable agility, by staying more-or-less upright; and remarkable civility, by apologising to Mawin for standing right where the boy rode!

There are a couple of elderly ladies sitting on a bench; at their feet they have spread out a newspaper; they are making merit by feeding the cats that live in the park. We stop for a moment, and pet a skinny, young, black, adolescent kitten with a grotesquely distended abdomen; clearly she has been a benefactor of the kindly ladies, but has had to retire part way through the ritual.

We arrive at the western gate without too much damage to other park users. Sure enough, there is a row of bikes just inside the gate and in front of the security post. There is a lady sitting amongst the bikes and looks like she might be a minor entrepreneur. No...turns out she is just a park visitor, and is a bit tired and so taking advantage of the seat she found vacant in the line of bikes.

A young security guard, in black uniform and with a black basket-ball cap, approaches us from the security post.

"Where is the entrepreneur who hires these bikes out?", asks Na.

"There is no entrepreneur, because these are not hire bikes."

"Oh...they sure look like it. What are they then?"

"They are official security officers' vehicles."

Na passes on this information to me.

I think I can see a spark of entrepreneurship [or greed] in the face of the security officer. "Ask him if he can hire us a couple of these excellent, but idle, vehicles", I say.

Na looks at me, as she might if I was a big-eyed Martian who had just stepped from a shiny flying saucer.

"Go on", I insist.

She asks.

He looks thoughtful for a second, looks around him to see who might be observing...or perhaps to try to locate the candid camera...then responds "Ok."

"tao rie [how much]?"

"ummmm...roi baht [100baht]."

"juck-gay-yarn neung or song[ [one or two bikes]?" I ask, raising one then two fingers.

"neung", he replies, holding up one finger.

"oooh...pen mark [too bloody much]!"

"OK" he responds, and raises two fingers.

Easy as pie!

<< >>

One of the bikes came with an interesting accessory...a genuine wooden night-stick, attached to the frame with an occi-strap...could come in handy for beating off folks if they try to steal our hire bikes!

2. Cycling in the park

Had a pretty lazy Sunday, just hanging about in the apartment. Everyone had too much energy.

"What'll we do?"

"Dunno."

"That's not very helpful."

"What about trying out the hire bikes at the new park [Benjakitti] next to Queen Sirikit Convention Centre...the park is new so surely the bikes are not totally stuffed already?"

Within minutes we are in the car, and on our way. It is quite close by, and the late afternoon traffic is light.

Traffic attendant doesn't want to co-operate; he claims the park is full; it's a hell of a long way to walk back from the only other parking spaces we can think of, so I give the plaintive expression of the stupid but lovable farang...he is a softy, and decides there might just be a possibility that we can find a park, so we are in.

Parking is no problem, just a short walk from the water, and it is free!

About 50% of the available space in the park is taken up with a large shallow pond, about 2 kilometres in circumference. There are several water features in the pond...large, elaborate fountains. At one side there is a large water feature of water cascading down uneven tiles and giving the passer-by the sound and sensation of rapids in a mountain stream. The pond has many fish, and many turtles with bright yellow stripes at the sides of their necks.

Around the pond is a broad, flat, paved walking track, with painted arrows recommending ambulation in the anticlockwise direction; no-one is paying the least attention to the arrows.

Outside the walking track is a smooth bitumen cycling track, with painted arrows recommending travel in the clockwise direction; serious cyclists [characterised by the ownership of the US$3000 cannondale-style bicycle] seem to be heeding the recommendation, but young children and folks on hire bikes are of a similar mentality to the walkers.

On the pond is a flotilla of swan-shaped pedal boats.

We walk halfway around the pond, ignoring the arrows that are trying their darndest to convince us to go the other way, to the bike'n’boat hire shop.

We self-select; the bikes are non-adjustable so the idea is to try to find one that more-or-less fits....hopeless task for me as, even though I am a medium size farang, I am much too big to get a comfortable fit from all the tiny units available. The bikes seem to be fairly new; they have cheap, heavy steel frames, plastic pedals....and 5 gears!

We pay the 20 baht per machine hire which gives us custody of our selected machines for an unspecified period of time. I hand over my photo-id card [don't have a Thai id card, but do have a Victorian Drivers Licence card that looks almost identical from a casual glance, and seems to work every time].

Off we go.

There is a lot of traffic, comprising riders of all kinds...there is the heavily-muscled fitness freak on his 27speed Trek carbon-fibre road bike just like that ridden by Lance Armstrong in Tour de France; he shares the space with the 2 year-old fat baby on the trike with Mum and Dad on either side to ward off dangers but taking up the whole width of the track in the process.

We pedal two slow circuits, clock-wise with the arrows, without serious misadventure. The last few hundred metres we are accompanied by the loud wailing of the kid....poor Mawin has not paced himself well and has run out of puff when almost in sight of his destination. Actually [he is a smart kid] it is possible he has not run out of steam, but is making certain I do not suggest a third lap!

I recover my driving licence.

We make our way back to the car.

On the way we come to the area where there has been a food festival in progress all day, so we stop to buy a selection of foods for eating back at the apartment. I select chicken green curry with fat rice noodles; there are other plastic bags with a pork curry, Japanese stuff wrapped in seaweed paper, and some kind of deep fried sweet.

Very pleasant couple of hours of outing really. Dusk brought a light breeze, which was cooled by the presence of the pond. Despite congestion, there were no serious mishaps on the tracks. Thai people are very skilled at getting on together; they seem to respect one-another; they don't drop rubbish; they appreciate the two small stages with live bands, and the outdoor, daylight cinema showing some horrible B-grade feature.

Now we are all exercised, and sleep will be pleasant.

3. Big Bridge, by Bike

I wake up about the usual time, just before 0600. It is my normal routine to hit the reasonably well provisioned gym in my apartment complex for an 80 minute workout...this morning, though, I feel like breaking the routine.

I know what I'll do...I'll ride to the new bridge and see if I can get over it by bike without upsetting the security folks.

<< >>

Last weekend I stopped procrastinating about it, walked down the road a kilometer to the local bike shop, and acquired a mountain bike. That was an interesting experience...

As is typical of small Thai shops, this one has no windows or even walls separating it from the street; there are steel security mesh shutters that roll up out of the way during business hours. The small shop is chock-full of bikes; it is on the corner of a regular road and a minor lane, so is able to spill out the front and take over most of the busy footpath, and out the side where a flattened cardboard box serves as a workshop floor.

Most of the available models have cheap steel frames, made locally, roughly welded, garishly painted. The single speed "Easy Ride" models have hub brakes or nearly-useless side-pull rim brakes; they have step-through frames, high handlebars for sitting upright; they have wide, sprung, saddles; they have a pillion seat over the back wheel, and a luggage basket attached to the handlebars.

No...cannot see myself happily cruising about on one of those.

"Do you have any good quality mountain bikes?", I ask, "something like aluminium frame, say 12 speed Shimano gears?"

I've been looking in the wrong direction, of course...those machines are all suspended from the ceiling on hooks. He has several; local-made ones look ok, but have no-name brand gears and brakes; I spy a Merida brand unit...made in Taiwan...with Shimano gears but no-name disk brakes.

"Can I put a rear luggage rack on that frame when it has disk brakes?" I ask in a knowing tone. Do I see respect painted on his face? "Wait one minute... My Dad will come to help you."

A quick mobile phone call, and thirty seconds later Dad comes hurrying into the shop. Very professional...he whips a plastic stool out from under a lad who is resting his tired legs, dusts it off with a greasy workshop rag, insists I get comfortable.

"Yes" he admits respectfully, "cannot put rack with disk brake." However, I can offer you special price on this one"...taking down what is clearly the most expensive model in the shop.

It looks fine! Brand-name bits and pieces, 24 speed Shimano gears, quality V-brakes, stainless-steel wheel spokes. The price is extremely reasonable!

I cannot think of any intelligent questions...but I am conscious of the strong feeling there is something important I need to know...damn!!...I can't recall what it is!

I negotiate a little. There is a special price for the alloy luggage rack. There is a special price for the safety helmet. There is a free drink bottle and alloy cage. In seconds he has fitted the accessories, pumped the tyres, taken my money, wai'd me deeply, and averted his gaze as I lurch awkwardly off the footpath and into peak traffic.

I have a trouble-free trip home, including scenic detour along a narrow lane that looks interesting from my apartment balcony, as I rapidly gain confidence...turns out it is interesting, but I discover I have little time for sight-seeing as I try to deal with obstacles and keep out from under the wheels of cars that seem to be travelling way too fast. Several times I stop and adjust the seat post to let my legs stretch out a little more each time. One time I even deliberately jump a curb and...more or less...retain control of the machine.

Just at the same time as I arrive home, the BIG question pops out of my head..."What size is the frame?" But, of course I am asking only myself because I am not in the shop. In the apartment I measure the frame and confirm my now strong suspicion I have acquired a frame that is too small for me!

16inches!

Ye Gods!

That is about the right size for a 12 year old Oz kid, but about perfect for the average Thai adult male.

Time will tell if I can adjust stuff enough to compensate for my stupidity at purchase time.

<< >>

Oh, yes! The bridge!

...So, I make it to the on-ramp of the bridge without [so far as I notice] any near-death experiences; I even travel quite happily...Thai-style...on the wrong side of the road, on the footpath, across red lights!

I am on the ramp, approaching the place where I predict security guards will leap out and bar my way. yup! There they are! But...strangely...they are beaming broadly and waving me on!

There is a carpet of clear plastic drinking cups on the road ahead of me...I ride through them and thrill to the crackling sound and sensation, as of warm scotch whisky hitting and cracking ice cubes in the tumbler...I taste the virtual Talisker single malt [classic Pavlovian response] and feel a surge of pleasure.

I have experienced this sensation before; I can feel the search engine grind into action in my head...Bingo!...marathon...or, fun-run at the very least. That's it...there is a fun-run in progress, and the new bridge defines the route; the drinking cups are discards from a drinking station up ahead somewhere and have had their own little [breeze assisted] fun-run down the ramp.

Now I become aware of a couple of guys on racing bicycles, turning just in front of me; they have crossed the bridge from the other side, and are now ahead of me and making their way back.

I shift gears...brain up a notch, bicycle transmission down two. Huh? What's happening here...I thought I was getting a bit too old to be getting this adrenalin [or testosterone] rush just because there is an adversary to be chased down...evidently not [thank you, Buddha, or whomever].

They hear the transmission-shift; they mutter to each other...in Thai, but I know the message is "we can't let this old bugger on his MTB go past us thoroughbreds on our carbon Treks, so let's blow him off".

Bums are off seats; massive calves are threatening to burst out of skin; the gap grows...15...20...25 metres.

"Enough!" I bellow, inwardly; I put in; the gap steadies; now I have my cadence up to 95-100 where I like it to be.

The bridge deck gets a little steeper; the gaps reduces...25...20...15 metres; one guy glances back at me under his right arm, and I can see the strain; I hear their grunting breaths above my own wheeze; under 10 metres now, and I pull directly behind and get an instant slip-stream effect; I shift up a cog, which they hear and immediately drop bums back onto saddles in defeat; I draw along-side, smile, and offer a friendly sawasdee krub.

I cruise beside them, trying to get a conversation going about the bridge; they have lost face, though, and aren't having any of it. I am a little disappointed to discover they are middle-aged guys, probably less than 15 years my junior.

I draw away,and there is no attempt to chase; after a couple of minutes I glance back and see they have spent their 10 baht, and are barely moving up the slope; I feel a little disappointed in myself about this incident, as I have probably contributed to a permanent sour taste these two guys will have every time they cross this bridge in future.

Now I am with the joggers; hundreds of mostly middle-aged to elderly men in bright costumes shuffling along at about modest walking pace.

Here is a drinking station, and the bridge deck is totally covered with clear plastic cups.

Many of the joggers are friendly, offering broad smiles and "Good morning's" as I overtake or pass; some are moving as in a trance...staring ahead, expressionless...apparently consciously willing one foot then the other to move forward.

I am on the down-ramp, and everyone's attention is drawn to the swarm of ultra-light aircraft that have "nested" here; they are constantly taking off and landing...two-stroke motors buzzing just like a pesky mosquito in the ear when one is trying to sleep outdoors.

Now I am off the bridge. There is a U-turn place about one kilometre along the road, where I turn and retrace the route.

4. Impromptu Cycling Tour

I sleep through the normal wakeup signals this morning [neighbourhood geese about 4:00am; alarm for early gym at 5:45am; "daughter" banging about in the bathroom preparing herself for her day at the college at 6:15am; the Boy crashing through our bedroom door and crying out "I'm hungry, Daddy" at 7:20am], so by 1:30pm I am suffering from excess energy.

No other obvious outlets present themselves at this point, so I decide I will drag out the mountain bike and go explore the "swamp" on the opposite side of the river.

I am on the road by 2:00pm, and the traffic is not too heavy. By Bangkok standards it is a cool afternoon, at about 30 deg. Down my soi, left into Sathu Pradit; left into Nonsi; quick illegal crossing of Param3; into the grounds of wat klong phum; I have been here before, and know there is a pier on Chao Phraya river at the back of the temple grounds.

The temple is quiet; a couple of monks doing some kind of preparation for the big "monks' day" events tomorrow; about 30 mangy dogs collapsed in individual heaps of scabby skin and bones on the concrete pavement; a large water monitor lizard crossing from one building to another just ahead of me; a couple of motor cycle taxi drivers taking a siesta on wooden seats in the ferry passenger waiting pavilion by the river while waiting for their next customer.

The long-tail ferry operator is not at the pier, but I can see him in the middle of the river, just returning from his last crossing. He arrives within a couple of minutes, and skillfully positions his craft against the pier so I can step aboard easily with my bike on one shoulder.

As I board, I ask tao rie [how much?], and he immediately responds with 2 fingers in the air [20 baht] ...probably at least double the "local" fare, but still not enough to warrant a haggle.

It is a pleasant boat ride of about 400-500metres across the river at this point. We have to make a slight detour as a tug is passing by with its 200 metre string of 4 or 5 massive and heavily laden cargo barges.

Long-tail boats are powered by car motors [salvaged from road accident casualties], and usually have straight-out exhausts which cause physical pain in the ears of passengers; this operator, though, has thoughtfully fitted a muffler.

I am on the pier on the Phra Pradaeng side of the river...and I am having a minor anxiety attack; turning my attention inland from the river, I discover the track is a raised concrete path about 75cm wide, with no safety rails, and about 1 metre above the swamp water level.

I am OK on a bike, but would not count my low speed stability as a noteworthy skill. Curiously, I am unconcerned about body damage...I just don't want my camera submerged if I wobble off the track and end up in the shallow but muddy water below.

"Stuff it!" I think, "I haven't got off my bum today just to turn around the moment the trip gets interesting."

Leg over...gentle push-off...bit of a wobble, then I take a breath! That wasn't too bad.

I have travelled 100metres and already I am feeling fine. Time to stop for a photo-opportunity.

No problems at all!

So...here I am in the very large city of Bangkok, but I could easily believe I am hundreds of kilometres up-country. There is swamp-land; there is thick jungle; pretty soon I can see there are fruit farms.

There is not a lot of people around; those I do see are friendly, and a little curious to see a farang without a guide or companion, on an imported bicycle, and with a camera dangling off a neck strap.

I travel away from the river; the swamp becomes more shallow and, eventually, there is some dry land. I come to a paved road, which I share with very light traffic. there are no English road signs, so I have no idea where I am going. As I ride, I try to imprint a "map" so that I have some chance of getting back to the pier.

I just cruise about slowly, taking in and enjoying the unhurried pace of the life here. Roadside food vendors call out friendly greetings to me; a couple ask where I am going, and laugh when I respond that I am going nowhere but just looking about the place.

Frequently I ride to a dead-end in the road; comes to a fence, with a gate and a security guard, and there is a sign on the fence identifying the presence of a "chemicals" factory or something similar; or runs into a private house-yard with chickens or geese and dogs in residence, and the dogs bark and occasionally I feel hot dog-breath on my ankle; or just stops!

I ride through a public school yard, where the kids are curious and precocious; a couple of young boys with bikes ride with me for a while, laughing at each other as they attempt communication with me.

Ninety minutes or more have passed...very quickly.

With surprising ease, given the route I have taken, I find my way back to the jetty, But there is no sign of the ferry. I discover a small yellow poly-grass rag connected to a bamboo pole by a light rope and a pulley; I guess this could be a signalling mechanism, so I run the rag to the top of the pole.

After a short wait the ferry arrives and transports me back to the other world.

Once more in the grounds of wat klong phum I make a surprising discovery of two overweight monks wielding arc-welders as they construct an iron fence.

Then I am back in the Bangkok traffic and, soon enough, back in my apartment.

Good excursion...I will do that again soon, as I have merely scratched the edge of this very large tract of swamp/jungle/village in the city.

5. Splat!

I have been cruising around the neighbourhood for about 3 hours on my mountain bike. I have seen lots of interesting things and been to some new places in Bangkok. It is around 2:30pm, and quite warm; I am tired, a little sun burned and a little dehydrated; I am headed home.

I turn out of Naradhiwas into Chan, thinking I may get a quick run this way, and may even take a small stop at the bike shop to see if the owner has done anything about finding a longer seat-post for me. The traffic is moderately heavy, but moving quickly.

There is an awful "W H A C K" noise, up ahead a little way, followed by the familiar screech of brakes.

Just two cars ahead of me there has been an accident.

I am thinking "Whack...screech” is a more dramatic sequence than “screech...whack” as it implies there has been a collision before an attempt to avoid contact.

Everyone stops quickly!

Including me!

On the footpath, people are running, trying to punch emergency phone numbers into their mobile phones as they go. The road ahead already seems full of shocked-looking people converging on the scene.

Now I can make out details. A taxi is sideways in the road ahead. As I watch, the driver lurches out of his seat and dashes to the passenger side of his vehicle. Passenger front window is open...inside is a youngish lady...she is crying...she is hugging a 9 month baby, who is screaming.

On his back, on the road beside her door, is an oldish, stout, chinese-looking man, wearing a dark green T-shirt and lighter shorts. I focus on his bare feet momentarily...they have the whitish, scaly appearance of old man's feet. Now I see his body is quivering slightly...now I see it has stopped...his eyes are closed, not clenched shut, but more like he is sleeping. His life is ended, just at that moment; this I feel with great certainty!

Now I see what is around him. There is a crumpled wreck of what was his ancient Italian scooter. All about him are burst brown paper packages, spilling colourful clothing items...I think "they have the appearance of dead pillion passengers, all split and spilling their entrails".

A little way off is an obviously new, grey scar in the tarmac...something struck the road there violently.

Not much point to my stopping, and just cluttering up the place further; slowly I ride around the scene, where everything now seems to be happening in slow motion, and continue on my way. I have a camera around my neck, but feel it would be obscene to start snapping pictures of this scene.

How sad! Probably this old man has been carefully and safely transporting goods around Bangkok on his Vespa for 30 or 40 years without serious mishap. Now this. Tomorrow he will be just another body-count in the horrific statistics of 50 or more motorcycle fatalities every day in Thailand.

6. Things one comes across in the Neighbourhood

Bangkok is VERY flat! The city is built on a swamp, basically the delta of Chao Phraya river; Bangkok city is at sea-level +/- 2 metres, and will surely have problems when global warming causes sea-level to rise.

Because it is flat, it is very difficult to pick up reference points, or to have a clear picture of what might be near-by.

I am out riding on my mountain bike; slowly I am widening my circuits, and becoming familiar with things near my apartment. I have already had a few surprises, such as the huge, swampy jungle across the river.

I visit my local cycle shop, to pick up the pressure can of chain lube I ordered recently. On a whim, I take a small lane off Thanon Chan; cruising along slowly, left into this narrow lane, right into that one. I come upon a small chinese cemetery...just a couple of hundred crypts (Chinese bury their dead, whereas Thais cremate 'em) and a large but poorly maintained and defaced pagoda at one end of the place.

A couple of minutes later, I come to a high fence; there is a large, ornate gate, and a couple of uniformed security guys are patrolling. I pedal small circles at the gate, trying to get a decent look through the gate at what might be behind the fence. The older of the two security guys indicates it is ok for me to come in and to ride about a bit.

Ye gods!

Here is a vast (read...really big) Chinese cemetery complex. In an area of 150-200 acres, there is at least 3500 family crypts. But that is not all! There is a massive community hall; there are shops; there are several pagodas, there is a huge outdoor gym, with dozens of middle-aged men and women sweating away on stationary bikes or doing barbell presses with big weights; there is acres of grassed areas; there are avenues of big old trees; there are jogging tracks; there are 40 or 50 gardeners.

I get quite a lot of attention. Joggers wave and say "Good afternoon"; weight lifters smile and say "come on in and try your strength".

It is evident there is a big effort under way to clean up the crypts and their surrounds. I think there might be some big event scheduled for Chinese New Year in a couple of weeks. [Mental note; try to get back there on new Year, as it is likely there will be a lot to see.]

I watch a game of pak graw for a while. I think "this is like another world...everything seems to be happening in slow motion. There are just a few tall buildings visible beyond the wall, but the rest of Bangkok seems to be a long way from here.

I cruise around for a while; I chase a pretty butterfly, which is harvesting nectar from flowers growing in the soil on top of the crypts.

Eventually, I decide it is time to leave. I take a different gate from the one I entered. Oooops! The security guy is a little testy, and indicates it is not OK for me to cruise about in here. kho tort [sorry] I say to him, as I cannot be bothered trying to explain his mate at the other gate invited me in.

Must go back there some time.

7. Roadkill

Disturbing scenes confront the cyclist.

I am riding along on my mountain bike, enjoying the exercise on this not-too-hot day. It is mid-morning, and there is a pleasant breeze that seems to be diluting the air-pollution from the many poorly serviced buses and heavy trucks on this section of road.

I have just had a short, impromptu race with a tuk tuk and managed to keep in front of him to the amusement of the motor-cycle cop who at one point seems inclined to make it a three-way contest. [Of course, I can't actually beat a tuk tuk in terms of acceleration or top speed; I get lucky when there is congestion caused by a huge truck taking up most of the roadway while it is being unloaded by a couple of very busy electric fork-lifts; I simple jump the curb, onto the footpath, zig and zag between the fork-lifts, and let the tuk tuk eat my dust when I get back onto the road in front of the congestion.]

I feel like being out of the city for a couple of hours, as I can recognise the early symptoms of Bangkok Madness that worms its way in like a virus if I spend too much time here without relief; I am making my way to the river crossing place to the swampy calm of Phra Pradaeng. The anticipation is already starting the cure; I am on the lightly trafficked shortcut to Rama3 from Sathu Pradit; I am moving fast enough now for the knobby off-road tyres to start humming their song of the road...a strange low-frequency harmonic that is felt through the elbows as much as heard through the ears; I call out sawasdee krub to the lady who is on the footpath watering her potted flowering shrubs, and she looks up and replies; I get a "thumbs up" from two motor-cycle taxi operators who are lounging under a market umbrella while waiting for their next fare. Life is good!

Then I see it in the road ahead of me!

I brake, as I ride past, then shift down a few gears and turn back to take another look. My high spirits are trashed in a instant!

Sure enough. There it is, in the road. Another casualty of this fatalism that is rampant on the roads in Thailand...it is already written; if it happens, then it was meant to be.

They lead a precarious life, it is true; just dangling off a thin strap over the tips of the first and second toe of the right foot, which does not have a stabilising foot-peg as the lady pillion sits side-saddle on the charging beast.

About 80% of the roadkill is the right-foot flip flop; I wonder how the left-foot partner is put down...let's hope it is humane!

8. Soi Dog mafia

A fright!

Bangkok has a lot of dogs. Soi [Small lanes] in Bangkok can be broadly classified as either dog soi or cat soi. Soi dogs are generally not the property or responsibility of individual people, but tend to be looked after by the local community.

Through selective breeding, behavioural conditioning [read...heavy toe in the dog's ribs if it barks, fights, or shows any signs of aggression to humans] and, perhaps, diet [soi dogs are mostly fed on ample quantities of plain boiled rice, flavoured a little with food scraps], soi dogs are usually friendly, sleepy and low-profile.

At least...that has been my experience in many encounters over several years! However...

...here I am on one of my frequent bicycle outings to explore and map the area within a 2 hour ride of my apartment. It is a hot day and I am not very energetic today; I decide I will ride slowly, and spend my time cruising into all the tiny sois I have ridden past many times before when on a more serious ride.

There is a big rat's nest of tiny soi's in the few square kilometres of land bordered by thanon [roads] Rachadapisek, Sathu Pradit, Rama 3 and Naradhiwas. I have ridden around in there a few times, but there is still quite a lot of exploring to do before I can claim familiarity with the area.

So I take a short cut between Sathu Pradit and Rama 3, and enter each little connecting soi as I come to it. While there is nothing particularly remarkable, nevertheless it is an interesting experience; the people I encounter are all friendly and curious...I am guessing it is something of a novelty for the food-cart operators to see an aging farang on a mountain bike in their territory; occasionally one of them thinks I am lost, and tries really hard to explain to me how I can get back to the tourist precincts.

I ride past a long, high, concrete wall, and there is nothing to hint what might be behind it; my curiosity is highly piqued, so I search for an entrance gate that might let me inside or at least allow me to see inside. Here is a barely noticeable soi, that just might be what I am looking for, so I enter.

100 metres along, there are no clues, but there is a 45deg left turn. Now it is like a roofless tunnel...high concrete walls both sides. Another 50 metres, and another 90deg left...

The air erupts!

Loud, menacing, dog noises, unlike anything I have previously heard in Thailand. They are not barking...they are snarling and screaming; there is a wall of dogs in front of me, and they all have erect hackles and very big mouths full of white teeth!

I feel the hair rise on the back of my neck...some hackles to call my own; I have this compelling urge to get the hell out of here; I quickly brake and shift down to a low gear; just enough room in the soi to turn the bike...

As I start the turn I sense, rather than see, that this will be a mistake; several dogs are in a crouch, and I expect they will go for my ankles; I stop, and step off the bike, keeping it between me and the closest dogs which are snarling and ranting alarmingly.

Now I see a few of the dogs are trying to get around the bike, and behind me; I am not going to let myself be surrounded; I lift the bike by the handlebars and seat, and swing it like a scythe, and am pleased to see this allows me to defend the entire width of the narrow soi; the snarling increases, as the dogs are evidently frustrated by this tactic.

I glance up the soi, beyond the dogs, hoping I will see a security guard...nothing; only one option for me...I am going to have to back out of the soi, scything my bike all the way.

I back up slowly to the first corner; it seems there is an invisible line drawn on the roadway, as the dogs seem to lose interest in me when I make the corner; they turn about casually, and trot slowly and quietly back to their "lair". Finally I can put the bike down, and grab for my camera.

The largest of the pack, clearly the "alpha" male, waits with me for a while; he is making sure there is no counter-attack from me; finally he saunters off, and I feel it is safe to mount the bike and go somewhere else; this I do without delay.

As I ride away, I am conjuring in my mind the might-have-been front-page news headline tomorrow...

Farang eaten by guard-dogs when caught trespassing!

9. River Breakfast Banquet

I have too much energy this morning, despite insufficient sleep last night, and a heavy gym workout this morning. There is an easy cure for that...I'll break out the mountain bike and ride about for a while.

I am in Sathu Pradit and feeling a little peckish; thought I could last until I got home, but the gut is telling me that is not a good idea. No problem...I am right where my favourite deep fried banana and sweet potato vendor has her little stall. I am feeling like a big spender; I take a 20baht order of banana, which she tongs into a brown paper liner and then into a plastic carry bag. The plastic bag is convenient, as I can simply thread the two finger loops onto the handlebar.

Away again. The lights at Rachadapisek stop me; I pull up alongside a tuk tuk and grab one of its roof supports for balance. I fiddle in the bag, pull out a piece of fried banana, start munching...tastes good, and my gut burbles appreciation. I notice the tuk tuk driver is watching me or, rather, watching the banana disappearing into my mouth.

20baht buys about 20 pieces...what the heck!...I can't eat that much...I hold out the bag to him and he takes 3 pieces...now he is munching away happily.

Down Sathu Pradit to Rama3, illegal crossing, as soon as I find a break in the traffic; now I am at the river.

Here's a bit of luck; the little taxi boat is just pulling out, and has only one passenger. I wave; the passenger, a middle aged guy, sees me, and brings my presence to the attention of the old guy who is driving. The boat returns; I shoulder the bike and step across the bow as soon as it nudges the wharf; I stagger a little as I step down, but manage to not topple into the water. We are away.

Oooops! A lady has appeared, and signaled her desire to also share the boat ride to Phra Pradaeng; we return again; I am impressed with her graceful embarkation. Ok...now we are seriously on our way; he is making for the chemical factory a little upstream from my destination; I signal my intent and he signals back "first, these two co-passengers, and then you".

I settle back...time enough to have my fried banana breakfast. I open the bag, then spontaneously offer it to the other passengers. They both look so shocked I fear I have caused some offence; I persist; the old guy reaches in and grabs a few pieces; the lady hesitates; the old guy says "its fried banana; try a piece or the farang might be offended; hesitantly, she reaches in a takes a couple of pieces.

They nibble. "arroi [delicious]" they exclaim, almost in unison. I smile and offer some more.

The guy rummages in his shopping bag and brings out a couple of ripe, raw bananas. The lady rummages, also, and produces a small bag of pre-cut, green mango. We have a fruit banquet under way as we cross the river; we are all beaming away and tucking in.

We arrive at the chemical factory landing. My co-passengers chat together, then indicate I can disembark here, with them, and ride through the grounds of the factory to the main gate onto the road. I am a bit doubtful, but decide I cannot cause offence to my new friends.

We all place our fare in the plastic jar, in front of the driver. I am a bit sad that he missed the eating, so I wrap the remaining food, and deposit it in the fare jar also, and he beams a huge, rewarding smile.

We alight. A stern-looking security guard dashes over and starts making 'you can't come in here...you have to get back on the boat" noises at me. 

Uh oh!

The boat has already backed off, and is heading into the current. The lady fires up... "the farang is our friend...he's with us", she says. The guard looks at her as if she is barking mad. The old guy makes similar noises as the lady. The security guy hesitates, relaxes, smiles at me, turns away.

I say sawasdee krub korp khun krub to my new friends, then mount the bike and pedal off. I am in a really good mood. This is going to be an excellent ride...I can feel it.

It is so easy to be friendly to Thais; they are nearly always open and generous in their relationships. I feel like the encounter may have made all four of us happy with this start to our day.