There are dogs everywhere. There are two types of dogs. Those that guard and those that wander around in the traffic. The guard dogs lie in the driveways and front verandah, eyeing the passing traffic. These are the ones to be wary of: they are doing their job, barking, chasing and keeping strangers away. The ones that wander around are annoyingly and unpredictable.
Being of an artistic nature, I spotted a Monet-type haystack a little way down an open dusty road, and just had to take a photo. Carefully checking for dogs, all clear, we ventured down the road, scattering hen and chicks in our path. We should have known better! Out rushed a black yapping skippertjie-look alike. While he snapped at us I snapped away on the camera and off we rode. U-Turn number one.
Later on in the day after a coffee and ice cream cake delight in Daracorner coffeehouse in Mukdahan, with views across the Mekhong, suitably refreshed we set off following the river south. Well the road ran out about 2kms later. U-Turn number two.
On the way back we spied what possibly could have been a through road to the main road. Big mistake. No through road, but the arched entrance to a village full of dogs lying all over the road. Now normally dogs in the road are the placid ones, they are not guarding any particular home and as street dogs just wander about or lie in the way, getting warmth from the tarmac. Well these particular dogs were actually guarding the whole village, so a quick U-Turn as the barking and snapping erupted.
Unfortunately this U-Turn, number 3, resulted in us ploughing over a bundle of branches and leaves which were conveniently hiding a broken concrete drain cover. I am sure all the dogs were laughing themselves silly as we came to an abrupt halt and fell over. The barking stopped and so did we. Some helpful local assisted us in righting the bike, only the knobby bit on the end of the brake handle broken. So back to Daracorner coffeehouse and the main road 2034 to Khemarat.
We are now employing the Nordic pole stick waving trick for any dogs that get too close. When there are two dogs chasing at one time on either side of the bike, I use it a bit like a kayak paddle, push left, push right. Perhaps onlookers think this is a new way to power our little bike: a turbo boost to the motor. Or we have invented a new game called Dog Polo.
This area proclaims to have been home to many dinosaurs a zillion years ago. We found a charming dinosaur park, complete with sound effects and huge concrete replicas. In our search for authentic dinosaur foot prints we turned off the main road following a tourist sign. We didn't find footprints, but found a fellow artist sculpting something similar to a dinosaur out of clay and wire. Now B won't walk if he can ride, so he rode up really close to the man and his artwork. In fact so close that I couldn't get a decent photo. Naturally as I was still sitting on the back of the bike, I tapped his shoulder to back up a bit. He did. He put the back wheel in a ditch and I feel off, again. It's painful being an artist.
U-Turn number 4 was a bit more shaky making and had nothing to do with dogs. Our dinner the night before was more than we could eat, so the delicious stir fry rice vegetable was polystyrened up as a take away. Lunchtime looming as we headed south on the 2112 towards khangchiam and I spotted a wooden shelter with seating on the opposite side of the road, a bus stop I think, next to a lake dotted with brightly coloured purple waterlilies. Still thinking with my art head and Monet's waterlilies, I tapped B on the shoulder to cross over the road and take a lunch break. He did. Halfway through the tight U-Turn the Thai mats strapped on to the front basket got hooked under the throttle cable and the bike took off at an alarming speed over the road and down the dry grassy bank heading for the lake. As the bike is automatic, because it is essentially a modified scooter, there was no clutch to pull. Years of experience came to the fore and he put the bike down mid-flight, as it were. I was screaming, what are you doing? But was ever so glad we fell in the grass not the lake. I must stop having these artistic moments.
The trick now was to ride the bike back up the shiny dry slippery grass, so it was my task to push and assist the motor which we have since discovered blew the headgasket. And that is another story.
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