"So where are youse* for today?" Peter asked as he served up two plates of delicious Ulster fryness in front of us.
"Ballycastle", we mumbled through full mouths.
When we opened our eyes the next day, the first thing we heard was the stillness.
There was no rain, no clouds, no dampness. The sky was blue, the sun was shining, and...wait a minute. Where did all these cyclists come from?
"I thought I was going to get a call saying 'Not today'."
So said our smiling B&B proprietor, Peter Monroe as we rode up the driveway, soggy and bedraggled.
"Who us? Nah," we responded between clattering teeth.
Unlike when we planned our route through Burma, we knew going into this trip that there really was only one path forward. Whilst the lakes of Berlin at least provide us with some water to stare out at, it isn't the same as sitting by the ocean and watching the waves crash against the shore, and we've missed that experience.
It's pretty much safe to say that we have not prepared for this trip at all.
This summer has been a complete whirlwind, what with a wriggly new puppy to care for, various business trips every week that barely sees one of us at home, and a move to a new flat to contend with.
The first half of 2016 was peppered with the sights and sounds of Burma, which we had the privilege of experiencing on our BattleTandem™, Samson.
Turns out that taking your newly minted bike on the tour in a country with no bike shops isn't the smartest idea in the world. So for our next trip, we'll be taking things a bit closer to home by spending two weeks cycling around the beauty that is Northern Ireland in September.
Last Sunday, Neil participated in the 2016 Velothon here in Berlin. A race that sees 11,000 cyclists of all ages, shapes, and sizes ride around a city which has momentarily shut down for the occasion, the Velothon is a yearly event for any enthusiast to either participate in or observe.
Many thanks to Paul Sonley at Loopie Route for this fantastic data visualisation of our first day cycling from Thailand into Burma.
The day before we left Burma, we woke up in the pitch dark and headed out in the early morning to catch one final sunrise.
This wasn't the easiest thing to do due to the lack of street lights. We had also disconnected our own lights to divert dynamo power to our USB charger, so we were riding by starlight and the dim headlamp of the odd passing motorbike. Romantic, but hairy.
It was well after 5 PM when we passed through the main city borders of Bagan.
We could scarcely believe it ourselves when the gates loomed ahead of us. It didn't seem possible that the last two and a half weeks, from the moment we left Berlin, arrived in Mae Sot, rode across the border into Burma, and went over and up through the country, were over.
We were never supposed to make it to Bagan today.
Because the last few rides had either been excruciatingly long and/or hilly without any reprieve, and because we also had a bit of time to play with, we had decided to give ourselves two easy days to split the 112km between Yenangyaung and Bagan.
Around 1 PM, we rolled into the town of Yenangyaung and stopped at the Country Hotel off the main road for lunch. Double portions of Chinese fried rice and noodles were provided and wolfed down. We were famished and thirsty. It had been such a long, slow day.
We've now been in Burma for two weeks, and we haven't yet tried the national breakfast dish. Time to rectify this frankly disgraceful state of affairs.
Mohinga is catfish soup with rice vermicelli, onions, lemongrass, garlic, chilli and lime, and it is delicious.
"America. Korea."
The taxi drivers that surrounded us were pointing at Jess and repeating the above phrase again and again.
We always knew that we wanted to use this middle bit as a chance to skip some of the more boring bits of Burma.
One of the first things we did in Pyay was get to the river pronto to see the sunset.
After watching this, can you blame us?
After breakfast cake at the Wei Wei Sar Sar Cafe (at this point, we were practically locals), we set off for our 90+k ride to Pyay.
Weather conditions were great, we felt full of beans, and the first 30k were an absolute breeze. We settled in for a beautiful rest of the day.
Then the bike started to play up.
When we first entered Gyobingauk, these subsequent thoughts entered our minds:
- There is only one main road that passes through this town and it ends after a couple hundred meters.
- There's got to be something better than the Paradise Guest House.
- Nope, there isn't and it's getting dark. Back towards it we go.
Welcome back, ladies and gentlemen, after that short interruption to your regular service.
WE'RE BACK ON THE ROAD!