This was the first time I’ve had a bike tour guide offer me a chromosome to start the day.
Then again, I’ve never met a guide quite like Nok Noysuwan, a diminutive Thai woman half my weight with the riding strength, bike handling skills and command of English (not to mention a great sense of humor) that in my book ranks her among the giants of her trade.
The “chromosome” is one of Thailand’s staple day-starters; a twisted deep-fried donut caked in sugar that makes up for in taste what it lacks in nutritional value. It was offered to me – along with a big smile – by Nok, who if she eats the things regularly must have the world’s fastest metabolism, judging from her elite-athlete wispy frame.
Chomping on a chromosome and meeting Nok at 7 a.m. were just two of a day full of surprises on Grasshopper Adventures’ “City to Shore” trip. Talk about an understated name for a bike tour. It’s technically accurate enough – travelling from Bangkok to the Gulf of Thailand certainly describes the trek - but it doesn’t do it justice.
Yeah, the trip starts near the Democracy Monument at Grasshopper’s office. And sure, it traverses back alleys and cuts through local markets en route to the ferry to cross on the Chao Phraya River.
After an hour-long train ride the serious riding begins, much of it along the Gulf of Thailand – hence the “shore” bit.
But calling this trip “City to Shore” is like calling Bangkok’s sprawling Chatuchak Market a place to shop (it’s one of the world’s largest open air markets). Or like referring to northern Thai cuisine as spicy (it’s been known to make even the most ardent fans of fiery food cry for relief from the assault on the palate).
A better name for the tour might be “An intimate glimpse into a Thai’s Thailand,” or “Two wheels to a Thailand most foreigners never see.”
In nine seemingly non-stop yet easy hours, guide Nok and her husband, Roland, opened up parts of urban Bangkok and the southwestern rural coast of Thailand with a masterful blend of urban cycling, rural touring, plentiful rest stops and water breaks. By bike, ferry and train, this tour takes you off road, off the beaten path, and well away from the crowds, shopping and madness of Bangkok.
It’s two distinct rides: One urban leg through the crush of Bangkok’s residential neighborhoods; one rural cruise through salt pans, fish farms and small towns and villages. Roland told us that most of the farang (foreigners) who make appearances in this part of Thailand are Grasshopper tour riders.
First, though, you have to get out of the city.
Riding through urban Bangkok required all of my bike handling skills to avoid the beehive of taxis, tuk tuks, buses and cars on the streets and the pedestrians and shoppers on the cramped back alleys en route to the Chao Phraya crossing. Nok, all four feet something of her, was able to ride through the low-hanging food stalls whose roofs would have taken my head off, had I not kept alert to duck.
Ever the pro, she warned us of tricky sections and dangerous crossings and dispensed interesting cultural tidbits along the way while dodging people, vehicles and countless dogs. Except for one close call with a car that failed to stop at a blind intersection (nearly taking out Nok, who inexplicably apologized to us for almost becoming a hood ornament) we remained organized, safe and upright.
We crawled through Muslim neighborhoods with gleaming white mosques and communities of Laotian immigrants, pausing for a long look at one of the more interesting mosques along the way. After winding our way along a mix of city streets, university quads and tiny back alleys, we rode onto the ferry to cross the Chao Phraya, joining dozens of motorbikes and passengers who all crammed aboard.
After a short ride to the train station it was all aboard for an hour-long ride, barreling south through Bangkok exurbia en route to the real start of the ride. We lashed our bikes with bungees to an open window and held on as the train rocketed along a track so close to the trees and buildings you'd lose an arm if you stuck it out of the window.
Arriving at the station, we unloaded our bikes and snaked our way through the crowd of people jamming the market that surrounded the train tracks. Half riding and half walking, we passed stands selling live chickens, all kinds of fish, countless sauces, clothes, hardware and electronics, ducking out of the way from motorbikes and cars who forced their way into the tiny passageway.
Escaping the crush, we started the real riding, beginning on paved roads and digressed to gravel paths and rutted rural roads.
It’s hard to summarize the beauty of rural Thailand, with its endless waterways, fish ponds and rice and vegetable fields - all reminders of how important food production is to this region. Traversing it all on roads we for the most part had to ourselves, we could relax and stare at the beauty of the landscape. A thick cloud cover provided relief from the sun, which nonetheless pushed its way through the clouds and left my arms with a tone that rivaled Nok’s.
We rolled into an enormous stretch of saltpans, where villagers flood hard-packed flats with salt water three times over the course of a few weeks then harvest mountains of huge salt crystals. We paused to watch the harvest and listen to Nok and Roland banter with the locals.
After an hour and a half of part hard riding and part meandering, we pulled into the Bang Khun Tian Kitchen At The Edge of the Sea (it’s full name, Nok informed me). Seated at a prime table next to the water’s edge, we gorged on fried fish, fresh raw oysters, pan-fried pepper crab and the best Tom Yum Goong (spicy Thai fish soup) I’ve in my Southeast Asian travels.
Eating a meal like that may seem counterproductive to a morning’s ride, but with the longest part of the trip ahead I had a feeling that every calorie would be put to good use.
Back on the road, our first stop was at an enormous temple complex, which to this westerner’s eyes doubled as an erstwhile arcade of the gods.
A huge concrete elephant stood on one side of the complex’s yard, its trunk holding a prayer bowl aloft to which ran a series of small cups on a hand-operated pulley. The goal here is to place a coin in the up and slowly turn the pulley until it tips at the top, with any luck dropping your coin in the prayer bowl.
If you hit the jackpot you crawl three times under the elephant’s belly and make a wish. (If it comes true you must return to the temple and bring and offering to say thanks and show appreciation.) If you miss, try again. It took me three times till I got familiar with the undercarriage of the elephant. Time will tell if the wish comes true. If it does, I’ll be back to say thanks.
Riding north, we passed long stretches of road where locals had spread drying krill on blue plastic tarps to dry in the sun, endless rows of fish, cuttlefish and squid drying in the sun, and dozens of tiny villages and collections of shacks where the locals smiled and shouted greetings to Nok, Roland and their latest tour participants.
The ride is a big loop along mangroves, waterways and through villages, so you never see the same scenery twice. Roland, a teacher by day, is an encyclopedia of information on the birds, fish and cultural habits of the villagers we flew past.
The afternoon’s start-and-stop route, peppered with glimpses into Thai life, wound up with a brisk-paced steady ride back to the train station which left us all in calorie deficit. Nok and Roland chomped on Snickers bars to recover. Khalid (the fourth wheel on the tour) and I passed, opting for a couple liters of water to quench our thirsts.
Many bike tours offer you great rides and gorgeous vistas. Some provide great food, superb commentary and easy-going guidance.
But this one was truly special – and I’ve done a bunch of them – mostly due to a tiny Thai woman who started my day with a big smile and the offer of a chromosome.
