WHEELS OF LIFE turn of Boulogne to visit Zweibrucken, this being the distance between the two towns. It was a one stage ride through the night, with a police escort for part of the way because of anticipated potential danger to riders. Both Dave and Alan rode several times bringing back many stories to share at winter pub meets. I rode only once, a few years later when the event had been broken up into three stages – 250km, 250km, and 100km. One night we stayed at a monastery, sleeping in former monk’s cells, the snores of exhausted cyclists replacing the chanting of the liturgy! In Zweibrucken we were billeted with local families, in twinning fashion,
and enjoyed the carnival organised to welcome the Boulogne guests. The other major AUK event I remember strongly is the so-called ‘Dorset Coast’ 200km Randonnee., one of the toughest in the calendar at the time. I’m not sure which year it started but I first rode it, again with Stephen, in 1982 when Stephen was 13 years old. In those days the event started by boarding the Sandbanks Ferry after cycling around Poole Harbour. There was a gale force wind blowing across the bay which blew Stephen completely off his bike as we rode to the ferry. He was a late developer physically, and was still quite a small lad at the time. No harm
VIENTIANE
LAOS – SOUTH – NOVEMBER 1998 SOLO TOUR
The author comes across as a ❝ congenial companion as he cycles through so many countries over so many decades. His well-informed observations are recorded with shrewdness, imagination and humour. Few cyclists remain faithful to two wheels for eighty years – a circumstance which enables Clive Williamson to comment on our fast-changing world from a peculiarly valuable perspective
Dervla Murphy 52
ArrivéeSpring/Summer2018
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THE VIETNAM WAR AND ITS CONSEQUENCES My previous trip to Laos earlier in the year had introduced me to the continuing tragedies resulting from the Vietnam War. During the war, the US dropped more ordnance on Laos than the Allies dropped on Western Europe during the whole of the Second World War. The war in Laos was designated a ‘Secret War’, and all references to Laos were eliminated from war correspondence and reports. US combatants, of which there were many thousands in Laos, were given ‘civilian’ appointments so that they could participate in the war without breaching the Geneva Convention. The Geneva Convention did not seem to be an issue for the US in the Vietnam War! Daily victims of the scatter bombs which remained after the cessation of hostilities, were dependent on the help provided by the Prosthetic Centre in Vientiane. Some went to extraordinary lengths to travel from remote areas of the country to get to the Centre. Originally founded as a treatment centre, it had developed a training function to send technicians into vulnerable areas to treat patients locally and more quickly. This background prompted me to organise a charity bike ride to raise money for the Centre. POWER This meant finding a relevant charity through which to direct the funds raised. By a roundabout route I found the UK based charity called POWER which was supporting victims of war, principally in Laos and Mozambique. In Laos, POWER was in partnership with a locally funded organisation called COPE, and there was also a connection to Princess Diana’s work in landmine clearance. POWER were keen to help set up the project and I was put in touch with Thomas, an American who was running
done we rode the whole route taking 11 hours in the process. No prizes for youngest rider alas! We continued riding the event every year until Stephen left for university. That same year we rode two 300km events – the first started in Christchurch near Bournemouth at 2am and went northwest as far as Malmesbury, returning through the New Forest. Stephen had difficulty keeping awake until we reached the first coffee stop, but afterwards we got into our stride until a puncture slowed our progress. I can’t remember the time we took but I know it was pretty good for a 13-year-old. the Centre in Laos. There was a lot to plan before I could undertake such a task, the first priority being to decide on the route, and that meant another visit to the country to work out something suitable. Route 13 with its good road surface and reasonable accommodation possibilities seemed a good bet. But Route 13 started in Luang Prabang in the north and continued all the way to the Cambodian frontier in the south. Since I had already travelled along the northern section, I decided that I would travel directly to the south of the country from Bangkok and cycle northwards to Vientiane where I would meet up with Thomas at the Centre. BANGKOK Not relishing the prospect of dodging through queues of traffic as I cycled on the main highway into the city, I took a local train close to the airport. Nobody seemed to bother with tickets as I crossed the rails and climbed aboard. The carriage was full of commuters cooking their breakfast on little stoves, and I had many offers of delicious titbits washed down with tea. The train itself was equally relaxed – it was not reliant on commuter traffic to set its stop-start locomotion. A few hundred metres were enough excuse to take a rest. Not a problem for me since I was taking the overnight train to Ubon Ratchathani, near the border with Laos, which only departed from Bangkok in the evening. NIGHT TRAIN TO UBON RATCHATHANI After loitering without intent in the city for a few hours I joined my cabin for the trip. I was hopeful of some peace to catch up on sleep, and having a cabin to myself the prospects were good. Unfortunately, the train had a further purpose apart from transportation. Men often took girls, prostitutes presumably, on the overnight service to have close encounters of the erotic kind. Cheaper and more private than a hotel, I suppose, but not conducive to the restful repose of neighbours. With squeaks and grunts of delight still ringing in my ears, I stepped out on to the platform at Ubon Ratchathani to find that the monsoon had kindly awaited my arrival with open skies! I had planned the timing of my trip to coincide with the end of the monsoon, but a large depression over the whole region had delayed its normal departure time. JOURNEY TO PAKSE In pouring rain, I set off on the 80 km ride to Chong Mek on the Lao border. It was a relatively easy ride, flat for most of the way, until some low hills appeared near the border. But everything changed at the frontier. The road surface had been good so far, but in Laos the surface was unmetalled and had turned into a quagmire. A metalled surface was