This vehicle is powered by sticky rice and bananas. December 27
60 km before lunch, and I feel great.
Saw a young girl and her even younger brother on a bicycle that was way too big. The girl had to stand up to reach the pedals, with the seat at about her shoulders. The boy was sitting on the carrier rack, holding on to the seat. I tried to stop and take a picture, but they got a bit freaked out, and the boy started to cry. I hate making kids cry.
This som tham (green papaya salad) I’m eating is making me cry. It’s hot enough to peel paint. Must remember to ask for less chilis.
I stopped at Ban Lak 35 (literally 35km village, at, you guessed it, kilometer marker 35) to watch some men playing boule. I got my camera out and started taking pictures. As soon as I’d taken the first picture (of a man looking at my bike), a man dressed in full military regalia came out of a thatch hut nearby, waving his arms, saying I couldn’t take pictures. It wasn’t like I was in front of a military installation or something. I was in front of a temple, sort of. Very strange. The man went back in his hut, to talk to his partner, and I chose that moment to leave, before they could give me any more problems.