Crossing into Myanmar

So my last few days in Thailand had me clinging to the edges of my tent at 1am to hold it down from a furious wind in pouring down rain; walking my laden bike hill after muddy hill through small, rustic villages in unrelenting, cold, rain, completely out of character for the season; frantically trying…

The bumpy road ahead

I woke at 5am, my legs aching from cycling 100 hilly km the day before and then being forced to curl into a ball for the whole night to avoid touching the sodden sides of the tent. It was like I was on an island with the outside edges of my Yoga mat having soaked…