You funny lot

We get lots of entertainment from looking at the viewing statistics on our Flickr page. Hannah would like to know why only 14 people have looked at her in her bikini whereas 25 people have looked at Zoe. We didn't even know we had 25 friends. We'd also love to know why nine people looked at the picture of 'dirty feet', for example, but only five looked at 'shifty looking granma'. To try to understand your preferences we shall be conducting some experiments over the coming months...

First fortnight in Cambodia

Sua s'dai (hello) from us both from Kratie in north east Cambodia. It's hard to believe we've already been in the country for two weeks. It's lovely, and distinctly different from Vietnam in several ways that we've noticed so far:

• Cambodia is much less crowded than Vietnam so although mopeds, dimwitted road behaviour and 'hello ambushes' are still omnipresent they're somewhat more bearable here.
• Once again most people live in reasonably sturdy looking homes, but here they're older, usually built on stilts and frankly more photogenic. Some are nicely painted and many have gardens. Unlike in Vietnam rural people do not have electricity (EVERYBODY in Vietnam has a tv!), and very few have running water. Instead they collect rain water from their roofs in butts and boil it to drink (we believe). Selves, small children and clothes are mostly washed in (brown) rivers. Towns seem to have very low voltage electricity which cuts out on a daily basis and is apparently bought at great expense from Vietnam.
  
• There is seemingly a greater level of foreign influence in Cambodia, with many foreigners involved in tourism, aid NGOs etc; by contrast, for better or worse Vietnam is confidently doing things very much its own way. Here the stark contrast between poor Cambodians and rich people (Cambodian or foreign) coupled with all the shite the country has gone through make for a certain hard-to-explain sadness. We'll try to put our finger on this better in a later post.
• The amount of English spoken in Vietnam by people not involved in tourism was virtually nil. We didn't see an English language school anywhere in the country. Here most teenagers running market stalls or coffee shops can quote a price in English, and some 12 year olds can attempt a conversation. The hello ambushes are also more varied: we've had hello Madame, hello Mrs, bye bye (instead of hello, very popular with tiny kids), ok, i love you, where do you go, where are you from, what is your name, how do you do, and our particular favourite happy new year!
• To our great surprise, the food is better! Random road-side stops in out of the way places fairly consistently reveal more varied and interesting flavours than their Vietnamese equivalents. We're particularly enjoying the coconut-based fish curries and dishes containing sprigs of fresh green peppercorns.
• In Vietnam every street food place has primary-school-sized plastic stools, whereas Cambodia has grown-up-sized plastic chairs.
  

Since arriving in Cambodia we've felt rather like we're on holiday, having had about six non-cycling days including one on the beach, one devoted to bike maintenance (more on the bikes in the previous post) and a couple spent worshipping at the often conveniently adjacent alters of Flickr and Happy Hour! Poor Zoe.. internet connections here are soo slow, and often just when she thinks she's managed to upload an image there's a powercut! Sometimes it's so frustrating only a mojito or a glass of beer over ice dulls the fury.

We've spent the last three days cycling north up the Mekong from Phnom Penh to a little place called Kratie, a typical slow riverside town with crumbling French colonial buildings and loads of squalor. Unpaved roads of variable ride-ability took us through (not past) an endless parade of rural life: stilt houses (see above), cows as tall as men, horses as short as children, pigs on motorbikes, dogs (mostly benign), barefoot and often naked children, some rather beautiful ladies (clothed), fishing, small-scale market gardening, jolly noisy temples, mosques, and lots and lots of floods.

Life expectancy is about 57 here, but older ladies have featured heavily these last few days:

Tomorrow is a major Buddhist festival and many villages have been fundraising for their temples by standing on either side of the road holding out baskets and yelling some sort of running commentary into a badly distorting microphone. As we approached one such ambush we were spotted and the Khmer commentary turned to 'hello' etc, giving the whole village advance notice of our arrival. As we pulled up the lady with the microphone (and a mouthful of metal teeth) opened with 'where are you from?' in English, so Hannah gave a short broadcast interview to the village whilst having her sweaty chin inexplicably tugged by her interviewer as Zoe had her nose tugged by another old lady.

In a place called Chlong we stayed in a more basic guesthouse than usual ($5) because it faced the Mekong and seemed atmospheric. At first the old lady who ran it seemed sweet and Hannah could communicate with her in schoolgirl French. It all started to get a bit weird when we retired (at 7 o'clock – a record!) and she wanted to know how many dollars we'd spent on our supper. From our flimsy-walled room we gathered that she'd set up her bed in the reception room immediately outside, from where she proceeded to cough, hock, spit and fart loudly til dawn. Her two manky guard dogs joined the rest of the town's dogs in occasional howling contests throughout the night. It was some consolation that – when the power went off and our tiny fan stopped working – we could hear the vast Mekong flowing past. In the morning Zoe looked out of the communal bathroom window to find a naked teenage boy wanking in the garden whilst looking up at the window. Shortly afterwards Hannah came out of the shower to find Madame sitting looking cross. 'Donnez-moi deux dollar mademoiselle' she kept saying to us; it seemed she thought we should pay a supplement for having washed. We refused and got the hell out.

Bike-related dramas

Our Thorn bikes are lovely and when we've emailed Thorn with queries about maintaining them we've had helpful, clear advice from Lisa who sold us the bikes, Andy who designed them and Robin who founded the company. Having top notch bikes reduces anxiety. Ish. We have had a few bike-related dramas, not all of which we're happy to admit to:

Thanks to Vicki B our bikes arrived safely at Stansted in a fish van and thanks to baggage-handlers at Stansted, Berlin, Dusseldorf and Beijing Airports they arrived safely in China. After our first day elatedly zooming around Beijing Hannah reckoned she had a slight kink in her front wheel and – to cut a long and upsetting and embarrassing story short – ended up turning a slight kink into a monumental f-up. The moral of this story is do not ever attempt to true a wheel unless you know what you are doing. Fortunately a bike shop in Beijing (Windspeed's Chaoyang branch, to give them credit) made the wheel perfect again the next day for about £2.

Another long and painful to recall story resulted in us being told that we could not, as intended, take our bikes on the 40+ hour train all the way from Beijing to Hanoi. They'd have had to go ahead on a freight train but that train doesn't go right to the border and we'd have had to disembark somewhere in southern China in order to retrieve them, blaa blaa blaa. To our great disappointment we had to fly. So it was back to Windspeed bikeshop who dismantled and boxed our bikes for their unexpected flight, again for about £2. No problems with the bikes on arrival at Hanoi Airport.

In order to get through Vietnam within the one month permitted by our visas we took an overnight train from Hue to Saigon. Lots of people send bikes and mopeds on the freight train, they'll be fine, everybody assured us. On arrival in Saigon our bikes were there, but they were not fine. God knows what they'd done to them but both bikes had large scars on the frames and Hannah's had damage to the saddle and handlebar-ends. The moral of this story is box a bike for a southeast Asian train journey as you would for a flight; southeast Asians do not seem to recognise push bikes as precious, potentially valuable items.

On a related note, in Vietnam every place that we stayed allowed us to store our bikes inside their garage or courtyard or even indoors. We always locked the bikes together and, whenever possible, chained them to something immovable. We tried to explain to people that we have to be super careful as we need the bikes in order to complete our trip (and added that our behaviour is conditioned by living in London), but our locking the bikes usually caused bafflement and, we fear, sometimes offence. It's a similar story here in Cambodia.

On a more positive note we have (apparently successfully) done our first bit of non-routine bike maintenance: we've resolved chain-slackness by rotating the “eccentric bottom-brackets” on both bikes (cue much mirth from Famille Darvill) and by removing a link from the chain on Hannah's. [Hannah discovered the consequence of chain-slackness the painful way when the chain slipped off while she was standing on the pedals, causing her to land hard on the cross-bar (bringing the first tears of the trip, ouch!) and to almost lose control of the bike - much to the confusion of the three hay-carrying cyclists she was trying to overtake at the time.]

Saigon and the Mekong delta – goodbye to Vietnam

We really liked Saigon, which though not the capital is the largest city and feels a world apart from the rest of Vietnam (we read on another blog that incomes in Saigon are three times the national average; certainly consumerism abounds). We visited the shocking war museum, spent two days exploring the Chinese merchants' quarter (Cholon – see Flickr), had a blind massage (though Zoe was diddled – her masseuse was not properly blind) and finally found the enthusiastic food culture we'd been expecting in Vietnam (pho soup with good cuts of meat and lovely bitter herbs, various sorts of spring rolls, frog*, gorgeous fruit juices).

*Animal-welfare enthusiasts will be horrified to hear we saw frogs in the market that had been skinned and their lips cut off, but that were still alive and tied together in wriggling bunches.

Next we cycled from Saigon across the Mekong delta and into Cambodia over six days, as follows:

• 10th – Saigon to Mytho – 88kms – Vietnamese road behaviour so bad Hannah properly lost it
• 11th – Mytho to Tra Vinh – 70kms – Mekong distributory-hopping via three ferries. Lovely scenery and good food en route
• 12th – Tra Vinh to Can Tho – 93kms – Long but interesting day with a good freshwater fish dinner at the end of it
• 13th – Can Tho to Rach Gia – 116kms – A day to remind us that this is the third world: a 'short-cut' via a 15km bike-trashing sandpit of a road followed by 50kms of continuous beeps and hellos resulted in us arriving after nightfall and foregoing supper in favour of a watermelon in front of the telly at our deserted hotel
• 14th – Rach Gia to Ha Tien – 93kms – The day of a major Asian festival (Mid Autumn), which meant even more people than usual sitting in front of their houses shouting at us
• 15th – Ha Tien to Kampot (Cambodia) – 49kms – Fascinating instant differences over the border: no paved road, even poorer, different-looking but noticeably FEWER people

So to conclude, we loved Vietnam and feel sad that many people who stick to the tourist trail don't experience it as we did. These are a few of the things we'll most remember:

We loved:

• The constant buzz (activity, colour, noise), especially in markets
• The uncynical friendliness of the people
• The visibility and confidence of women, and interesting gender dynamics
  
• Luscious landscapes
• The coffee
• Sugarcane juice
• Filled baguettes
• Buffalos

We had a bit of a love/hate relationship with:

• People constantly staring/ pointing/ shouting/ laughing at us (and occasionally pinching our arms/ cheeks)
  
• The very simple (read: boring) lives many people seemed to be leading (a sure sign of poverty). We spent a lot of time talking about this and trying to resist imposing our own values
  

We didn't like:

• People pulling out without looking. Not some people.. ALL people
• The constant, pointless beeping of motorbikes
• The deafening beeping of buses and lorries
• The fact that people often seemed to copy others' business concept rather than doing something different (e.g. hundreds of identical coffee shops side by side, all empty)
• The fishy smell that hangs around markets
• Bum ache

By the way, we spent on average $44/£25 a day between us in Vietnam (slightly more than expected), though on the Ho Chi Minh Highway (excluding accommodation) we struggled to find opportunities to break a £3 note most days.

On the road with the Darvill-Farmers

Most days follow a similar pattern:

• Snooze alarm clock a few times
• Make green tea (usually Hannah)
• Pack up panniers (doesn't take long thanks to our system – see previous post!)
• Check out of accommodation and faff a bit with hats, glasses etc
• Find breakfast (in southern Vietnam often a paté-filled baguette and a delicious coffee)
• After first 25kms more coffee (usually iced, with condensed milk!)
• 12 o'clock: Stop for lunch
• [About six hours would be our ideal cycling day but we often do more]
• [GPS Darvill (Jnr) is fairly reliable but has an unfortunate bug which means that any route-finding errors result in violent bouts of swearing]
  
• Later, roll up outside likely-looking accommodation. One checks cleanliness of bedding, A/C etc while the other waits outside being stared at
• Negotiate bike-storage arrangements
• Make green tea (usually Hannah)
• Wash selves and clothes (usually filthy)
• Stretch a bit, especially quads
  
• Put long clothes and DEET on and head out in search of supper, which is usually accompanied by one lager each
• Read or write a bit then early to bed!

We love moving on most days and mostly we quite like the feeling of not knowing how each day will end. Zoe says she can't imagine travelling any other way now than by bike, which Hannah is pleased about. Zoe also says the bag categorisation system is essential, which Hannah is pleasantly surprised about. Zoe and Hannah are getting on particularly well, which neither is surprised about.

Kit list

We anticipate a small subset of readers will be interested in this!

Kit list:

Hannah Front Left Pannier (HFL) – 'Practical'

Travel towels, like swimmers use

Carrier bag (CB) 1:
Small metal bowl (uses to be determined)
Mosquito spray
Bike lights/ head torches
Packing tape
Sewing kit
Bin bags
Freezer bags (invaluable, need to restock)
Tin of green tea, present from Diana in Beijing (used twice daily)
Tiny mirror
Tweezers
Nail clippers
USB sticks

CB2 - 'Bathroom':
Washing powder/ brush
Washing up liquid (for drinking bottles and bike chains)
Shampoo
Calendula cream
Deodorants
Toothbrushes/ toothpaste
Universal sink plug

HFR – 'H's clothes'

Soft shell jacket

CB1:
Z's spare glasses
H's diving mask
Diving computer

CB2 - H's undies (more than needed):
2 bandannas
Bikini
3 bras
5 pairs pants
5 pairs socks

CB3 - over clothes (probably more than needed):
1 pair green nylon trousers for evenings
1 pair green cotton waterproof shorts (+ 1 pair brown-camo baggy nylon cycling shorts, always on!)
1 turquoise nylon shirt for evenings
2 long-sleeved polyester tops (1 orange, 1 pale blue)
2 polyester t-shirts (1 torquoise, 1 red England football shirt)
2 sleeveless tops (1 cotton torquoise vest for sleeping, 1 polyester torquoise vest)
1 pair cotton boxer shorts (for sleeping)

HBL

CB1 - Books and documents:
Road atlas of Vietnam (remnants of, about to be disposed of)
Foldout map of Cambodia
Foldout map of Indonesia
Streetmap of Bangkok
Z's book (just finished: Jonny Ginger's Last Ride; next: something about the Khmer Rouge followed by The Mill on the Floss)
Hannah's book (finished: The Economist style guide + Eats, shoots and leaves – both sent home; next: The Undercover Economist and Teach yourself Indonesian)
Pocket mountain bike maintenance (present from Helen - invaluable)
South-east Asia graphical guide (present from Ben - invaluable)
Notebook
A5 size flags of the six countries we're visiting
Insurance docs
Photocopies of passports
Medical instructions from Dr Farmer
Diving certification
Vaccination records
Laminated photos of us with London landmarks (for giving as gifts!)
Various bike-related manuals

CB2:
Two plastic cups

CB3 - 'On the road' (sits at top of pannier):
1 spare inner tube
Tyre levers
Bike pump
Pedal spanner
Leatherman multitool (mostly used for knife)
Topeak Alien II multitool (contains chain-breaker etc, mostly used for Allen keys)
Peeler
Loo roll
Suntan lotion x 2
Floppy hats (worn on bikes whenever helmets not worn)
Naff visors (sometimes worn in combination with floppy hats/helmets - a great look)
Sweets
Fruit/snacks (sometimes)

HBR – pannier has holes in so is not waterproof

Reflective gear
2 D-locks
2 cable locks
Bike helmets (always worn in cities and on busy roads)
Tent poles
Bottles of spare water

ZFL - Z's clothes (probably more than needed) and undies:

4 pairs pants
4 pairs socks
2 bras
1 bandanna
1 cotton stripey vest (for sleeping)
3 polyester t-shirts
3 polyester long-sleeved tops
2 pairs shorts (black ¾ length polyester for on the bike, green cotton for off)
1 pair black leggings
Soft-shell jacket
1 pair green nylon trousers for evenings (though it appears mosquitos can bite through clothes)
1 black nylon shirt for evenings

ZFR - 'Medical'

CB1 – Creams:
Ibuprofen (good for knees!)
Benadryl + Eurax (for bites, allergies etc)
Nappy rash
Thrush
Arnica

CB2 – Tablets:
Malaria tablets
Imodium
Rehydration sachets
Antibiotics for tummies x2, one tablet used (effectively) to date
Antibiotic for other infections x 1, not used yet
Paracetamol
Ibuprofen

CB3:
Antibacterial hand cleaner
Roll-on Deet (used constantly)

CB3:
Sudocrem (melted everywhere, about to be binned)
Vaseline
Arnica tablets
Tea tree oil

Z's tampons
H's mooncup

First aid kit

Kettle

ZBL - Bedding

Tent (not used yet)
Sleeping mats
Silk sheet sleeping bags (used constantly)
Neck pillows
Sarongs

Miniature laptop and miniature mouse mat

ZBR – bike stuff + electrical stuff

CB1 - Bike stuff:
2 foldable tyres
6 inner tubes, none used yet
Puncture repair kits
Brake cables, none used yet
Gear cables, none used yet
Spokes (about 20), none used yet
Spare chain links
Spoke key
Adjustable spanner
Mini screwdriver (present from Julia, invaluable for glasses)
Electrical tape
Cable ties
Grease
Cloths for cleaning bikes
Loads of toothbrushes from hotels (for cleaning chains)

CB2 - Electrical stuff:
Power cable for laptop
MP3 players
Charger for MP3s
USB 2 cable
Mouse
Kensington lock
Camera battery chargers x 2
Universal adaptor
Alarm clock

Z's handlebar bag:

Camera
3 lenses
Spare camera battery
Spare flash card
Sunglasses
Keys
Money belt: Credit cards, passport, money
Eyeliner!
Chewing gum
Sweets

H's handlebar bag:

Map holder/ map
Money belt: Credit cards, passport, money (local and dollars), spare passport photos
Sunglasses
Whiz-away (invaluable, every woman should have one)
Camera + spare battery + spare flash card
CB1: Anti-bac liquid soap, Anti-bac hand gel, DEET, tissues, malaria tablets
CB2: Phrase book, point-it book, calculator, compass (used frequently)
Keys
Pen, pencil, rubber

Also carried:

Bike computers
2 bike-mounted water bottles each
Bike oil
1 pair of shoes each
2 plastic bowls (used daily for laundry, often for bike washing, rarely for vomiting)
Bungees (for holding bowls on to bike; double as washing lines)

Things we don't have yet but might get*:

Pair of flip flops each (NOW PURCHASED)
Separate Allen key for a particularly hard-to-reach spot on our front racks (NOW PURCHASED)
Body moisturiser (Z)
Belt (because our trousers are starting to fall down) (NOW PURCHASED)

*Please note this is not a list of requests; all of these things can be got here.

Thank you for the spiritual guidance

Thanks to everyone who responded to our cry for help with both philosophical and practical suggestions. Particularly pertinent were several variants on a theme of 'accept the Eastern phenomena of yin and yang'; we hope our two most recent blog entries showed that we're starting to get to grips with this principle.

We liked and certainly intend to act on the suggestion that we break up the cycling with some breaks and treats. We're currently having four nights in Saigon, a city we like very much. We've been busy 'refuelling' (as the photos illustrate) and tomorrow hope to find ourselves a massage in preparation for the next leg of our journey.

And finally we also particularly liked the suggestion that we afix a sign to our bicycles: 'can't stop now but thanks for your hospitality'.

Culinary adventures on the Ho Chi Minh Trail

Unfortunately we continue to be underwhelmed by the food in Vietnam. If we were on the Seafood-Diet in Beijing we're now on the If-You-Can-Find-It-You-Can-Eat-It-Diet, or perhaps the CanWePullOff90kmsAgainOnNothingButNoodleSoupAndSugaryDrinks-Diet.

Our quest for interesting flavours has certainly resulted in some adventures. First the lows.

In Yen Cat we walked up and down the one street at about six thirty looking for signs of people eating. In poor areas it seems Vietnamese people eat to survive not to socialise, so we had little choice but to break Rule No. 1 and resorted to a place that didn't have any customers. Hannah stuck her head into the kitchen and tried to make clear that we'd rather not have the heart lying on the side in a bowl but we'd give the chicken a go. Ten minutes, much chopping, and several mosquito bites later a large dish of nicely flavoured but nevertheless unidentifiable and inedible bits of chicken grissle emerged. Feeling terribly rude we ate some rice and greens (served up with a side of their own cooking water) and made a quick exit.

In Huong Khe we thought we were on to a winner when we found a lakeside eatery with a couple of groups of men eating and drinking. Unfortunately our phrasebook was of no help whatsoever in deciphering the menu and the young waiter's recommendation resulted in a crudely chopped up, boiled (but not thoroughly - evidently the chef had not seen the public health campaign poster in the image above), tepid whole chicken. Again we left without touching the meat and left feeling deflated in more ways than one. And now for the highs.

In Pho Chau we were more lucky. Sitting down in a dark 'street kitchen' containing several groups of young men we pointed at whatever they were eating and hoped for the best. In the low light we had no idea what we were eating but it tasted nice and after much discussion we decided it was probably congee (rice porridge) with freshwater eel (and fresh basil).

In Dong Ha we again tried the 'we'll have what they're having' trick and enjoyed a very flavoursome hot pot different to those we'd enjoyed in China in that it sat on a block of flaming paraffin. But the broth was tasty and we enjoyed the contents: noodles, herbs, okra, mushrooms, tofu, cubes of blood cake (bit like black pudding but with the smooth texture of tofu), cubes of beef heart and cubes of beef tongue.

In Tan Ky we experienced our most memorable meal to date. Walking through this end-of-the-earth place suffering from the familiar nobody's-eating panic Hannah said to Zoe 'I wish someone would just come up to us and offer - in English - to help us find something to eat'. Five minutes later a very surprised-looking (though apparently psychic!) English teacher from the local high school stopped her moped and - after some discussion - revealed that it was her 'dream' to talk with foreigners. We invited her to join us in the nearest 'restaurant' which she said was good but warned was somewhat expensive.. possibly as much as £1.50 per person. Turned out this was the place to try stewed dove. 'Very good for your health', apparently. Out came three little individual metal pots, each containing a soupy rice porridge topped with a whole dove. The doves were so well stewed that it only took the back of a spoon to disintegrate them (head and all) into the porridge before sprinkling on some green stuff and tucking in. To cut a long evening short the two of us ended up on the back of this tiny woman's moped dodging police (no helmets) to get to the edge of town to look at the stars and the silhouette of the mountains and then dropping in on her friend, the deputy-manager of the local bank, for some tea and bright pink cake. But not before the dove restaurant proprietress - a rather beautiful 56 year old veteran of the 'American war' (she put on her uniform and medals to prove it!) whose husband had left her and gone to Japan had tried to persuade us, or at least Zoe, to stay the night with her by begging Zoe (entirely through gestures) to try out her bed.

We're in Hue now and off to Saigon in the morning (24-hour train journey.. bikes have gone ahead, we hope!). In the next post we'll give some insight into 'life on the road with the Darvill-Farmers'.

Now we're rolling (Ninh Binh to Hue)

Since we last posted we've been completely off the beaten track for about a week, following a fantastic road called the Ho Chi Minh Highway/Trail. The road vastly exceeded our expectations in terms of its quality (fully paved, not a single pot-hole, clearly waymarked, almost no traffic), the variety of landscapes it took us through, and - especially - the intense experience of Vietnam the route afforded us. Here's a summary:

• 27th. Thanh Hua (city) up to Yen Cat (hill town where we joined the Ho Chi Minh Trail) - 63kms - landscape bucolic but continuously populated
• 28th. Yen Cat to Tan Ky (felt like the end of the earth) - 90kms - many coffee plantations
• 29th. Tan Ky to Pho Chau (near Lao border, felt like a frontier town) - 92kms - many tea plantations
• 30th. Pho Chau to Huong Khe (the end of the earth again) - 53kms
• 31st. Huong Khe to Phong Na - 127km - valleys through karst mountains, Deo Da Deo mountain pass followed by long descent into stunning national park
• 1st. Phong Na to Dong Hoi - 52kms - heavy rain
• 2nd. Dong Hoi to Dong Ha (where we left the HCM Trail) - 109kms - flat boring landscape and weird atmosphere that reminded us of naff bits of Oz outback

(daily distances were largely dictated by the positions of towns large enough to have a hotel)

I've read many accounts of people seriously disappointed by Vietnam having experienced cynical tourist rip off after scam after rip off. I can't claim we weren't apprehensive about going right off the tourist trail ( - not one of the places listed above appears in the main guidebooks, not that we have a guidebook) but our gamble paid off: bar one, it seemed to us that the people we met valued the interaction with us more than they valued the transaction. Sometimes people's kindness was almost overwhelming. Here's an example. One day two guys pulled alongside us on a moped (a frequent occurrence). 'Where are you from' etc. 'I am a teacher'.. 'I am a teacher too (Zoe)' etc. It was clear the teacher (who spoke little English) wanted us to stop and have a drink with them, but we didn't really want to stop at that time so we thanked them and they carried on. I told Zoe I'd read that a teacher earns about $30 dollars a month (£15). About 20 minutes later the same two guys reappeared having gone on to the next town and bought us two bottles of soft drink (worth 30p each). Of course we stopped and drank them. In fact we were so touched we even pretended to like Manchester United.

Pictured is one of the motivational distance markers we passed along the way.