Life On The Road – Page 2 – Solo Female Cycling Around The World

Big Mac Attack…What To Eat On A Bicycle Tour

As I wander through the streets of Nicosia, Cyprus, I am distracted not by beautiful mosques or historic Venetian city walls but by the fact that I am ridiculously hungry and nothing is open. The damp, dark, after rain soaked, dimly light streets are asleep, perhaps because the relentless rain, the worst winter on record in 25 years, has closed the shop doors until drier days.

Nicosia is divided by two countries and with a quick flash of my passport, I walk from Turkey/Cyprus over to Greece/Cyprus in search of food. The only thing open is McDonalds’ which I never eat. Out of a perceived dramatic death due to insatiable out of control starvation, I scarf down a cheeseburger and fries and walk back to my guest house in Turkey. I have successfully imported McDonalds from Greece to Turkey at 10pm on a Tuesday night. Yes, that’s right folks, I walked out of Turkey like a turkey to go to Greece to eat grease. No duty paid and no import/export fees were sought, not yet that is.

I was stopped from taking photos of the menu. Apparently the recipe of that Greek Mac is now top secret! I wonder why?

About 5 minutes later, I am writing and drinking a glass of local red wine. Somewhere between a mediocre metaphor and a powerful punctuation mark, I am vaulted by a nauseating alarm. I leap up and run for the toilet to barf. Like superman on a mission to save the world from bad food, my cloak of humbled hunger gets tangled. I trip over a table, break my boob, bruise my knee and my injured toe nail falls off. Curses of bite me Ronald echo throughout the building as the Cyprus sewer system is up by one McDonald’s meal and a solo female cyclist is reminded that McDonalds is a poor choice of food even in cases of perceived dramatic death due to out of control insatiable hunger. What to eat on a bicycle tour? I am not sure I know right now, however …..two all beef patties, special sauce, lettuce, cheese, pickles, onions on a sesame seed bun… certainly comes to mind!

What’s A Purist Anyway…Do You Walk The Line?

The purist cyclist will pass up a bus, train or plane, never walk the line and cycle everywhere they travel. Johnny Cash would of made a fine bicycle tourist. Like sobriety is to an alcoholic, a purist is determined to tackle daily route planning logistics of a bicycle tour without motorized support, boats being the exception because you can’t cycle on water anyway. However, even Johnny had his uppers and downers.

On a multi-country bicycle tour sometimes tackled by visas, time restraints, health situations or inclement weather, I do believe even Johnny may off decided to walk the line or take a bus, plane or train if he had too. Despite pedaling through a ring of burning fire many a cyclist that I have met will not take a bus or train unless absolutely mandatory. For instance, customs mandates a no cycling rule between the China/Pakistan, the China/Mongolia and Pakistan/Iran border (2009-2011). With a determination to continue cycling despite missed opportunities or a conversation with new friends onward we go as determined to say good-bye as cycle.
I am guilty of the latter for the first 8 months of my world tour. No one could have gotten me off the magic bicycle, not even Johnny Cash. Now it seems ridiculous to have missed out on all those experiences, which now form my cornerstone memories of bicycle travel. Perhaps, once I got to a certain point in cycling it just didn’t matter anymore about pedaling there quicker. For I knew I would eventually get there.

Even now, I am not a big fan of fast public transportation and I prefer the magic bicycle any day of the week. However, I did get to see the Dali Llama, the big DL himself in India because I lingered about for 12 days with my visa ticking away. In the end, I had to pedal 100km, hop a bus for another 100km and then get out and pedal 30km to the border in order to not over stay my Indian visa. What do I remember most about this day? It certainly isn’t the bus or the cycling, it’s the warm memory of the big DL grinning as he reached over and blessed the people all around me.

However, in order to avoid the possibility of an aviation box packing bicycle pedal removing affair, I have found myself at a cross roads between a magic bicycle and a plane on the Island of Cyprus. All public ferry boats heading to Egypt/Africa have been cancelled. The private sailing community is waiting out the storm for the winter. Syrian visas aren’t available and passenger boats to Israel, the land bridge to Egypt/Africa start in the spring. Israel is also known for stamping your passport rendering it invalid.

The only affordable boat off of Cyprus is to Turkey. My original plans have been halted faster than a plane in a thunder storm. So, I will be taking the pedal/water way west through Turkey to Italy and then a boat to Morocco and head south through West Africa. Due to talk of added military presence in the Sahara of East Africa, it remains questionable whether freedom camping; pedaling sans military convoy and/or guide is even possible right now. With the Gobi and Taklimakan deserts behind me, and my love of pedaling and camping in deserts firmly engraved in my being, the mack daddy of all deserts, the Sahara, is finally here.

As long as I keep sleeping in my little tent, pedal in the cold rain of the EU winter and do not over indulge the budget on Italian food, the costs will be about the same. Purist or Johnny Cash I am not but perhaps this time I am, for I will be pedaling west dressed in black.

New Years and New Gears…Top 3 Things to be Grateful For This Year

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Number 3 Inviting

Ballerinas to Texas Rodeos

As I pedaled through Pakistan and Iran dressed like a ballerina at a Texas rodeo breaking all culturally appropriate rules just by breathing, I owe 100’s of thank-you’s to everyone on route for the kindness, encouragement and wonderful camping spots, and meals shared. Most of all thank you for your open mindedness and overlooking my oddness for a lone woman cycling in these areas is about as odd as a ballerina at a Texas rodeo.

Number 2 Pandemic The Magic Bicycle

Now, if you had asked me when I was young what the most significant relationship I would have at this age, I would of never imagined it would be with a magic bicycle. But here I am a solo female cycling around the world since 2009 with Pandemic The Magic Bicycle, the love of my life. Other then a brief affair with Dansey and my recent marriage to my hubby Rohloff it has always been Pandemic. Thanks Pandemic for rolling with me this year.

Number 1 Tackling The Lonesome Blues

Happy New Year, 3 people on Bicycles 2914

Thank you to all of you for the comments, FB and Twitter messages. My writing style has been described by some as unique; others have said I am crazy. Well, every day is a festival if you are already crazy. Maybe, I just like festivals. However, I am lacking company on the road most days and on a bad day, I write until I laugh and that makes me feel better. So, thank you to all of you because without your encouragement to keep sharing I might have lost my mind or at least the other half while I was bicycle touring solo around the world. I also may have found alternative less healthy methods of tackling the lonesome blues. Thank You to YOU and Happy New Years and New Gears everyone!

You’re So Vain, Tips For Looking Great While Bicycle Touring

After months of full coverage cycling through India, Pakistan and Iran, I realized something about myself. I might as well change my name to Carly and start singing ‘You’re so Vain’ in the mirror to my self every morning because I had no idea how much the police in Iran mandating my attire would truly be such an issue.

I am more vain then I would of ever expected. After 2 ½ years of bicycle touring it is safe to say that my panniers are depleted of clothing. I presently own one pair of shorts and when I am cold, I wear knee socks or my rain pants. My wardrobe has been destroyed by the elements. Never having been a fan of that expensive sporty spf clothing material my cheap bohemian cotton shirts have the longevity of about 3 months of pedaling, before they are holier than a preacher at the pulpit. So what is the girly girl gear for guys too necessary fashion attire for bicycle touring? Thanks to the internet and my dad, my shipping partner, I have ordered some new discounted clothing gear from the internet. I can’t wait to get…..

Prana pants ¾ length pants intended for rock climbing are great for pedaling. They are cool looking, a little stretchy and tough enough for bike touring. My first pair lasted for 1 and ½ years of continuous touring. They never fell apart and eventually just got sun burnt (literally). They became paper thin and you could see right through them. I didn’t fancy flashing everyone on the planet so I eventually recycled them into bicycle cleaning rags.

Tavu visor. A vanity purchase because they just look cool and will keep the sun off of my nose. My nose most days is a sun burnt flakey mess and someday soon I might end up being one of those super chic white zinc nose people. You could call me Carly and laugh at me if you would like.

Prana tank top. Newly freed from the confines of a conservative dress code, I just need to get some air on my pedaling arms.. Prana clothes intended for yoga, wick moisture away and keep you dry while sweat drenched on the bike. I love the pants so I will be trying out the tops.

Ex-officio shorts. My only pair of shorts for some time now. They are tough and I love the cargo pockets. I could pretty much camp for a couple of days out of the stuff I stash in the pockets. They do have that sporty spf material so they have lasted a really long time. I suffer from a brown circle on the bum of my beige shorts from the saddle so this time I ordered a dark brown pair.

Pro-tip: If you dress the color of dirt to begin with it is far easier to stay clean looking while bicycle touring

Triposili Sunglasses.I love my serengeti driver shades, however they have stretched a lot and are now way too big. They fall off my head 5 times a day and the lenses fog over from sweat and I can’t see. I stop cycling everyday a few times to wipe them, so I can see. Also, I wear my hair in a pony tail and wrap the cord on the pony tail to keep the glasses attached to my face. They are tuff though, I have dropped them on the cement at least 50 times and they don’t break. I am hoping the triposi glasses sold through amazon by Bike Somewhere fix my sunglasses issues. The new glasses come with 3 lenses. The clear lens is great for dusty foggy construction areas.

What’s your favorite article of clothing for a bicycle tour?

Tires and Tears…Have You Ever Cried On A Bicycle Tour?

With big ole tears running down my cheeks I take three deep breaths and carry Pandemic The Magic Bicycle over my head through the river current. The road has been deteriorating throughout the day with the river getting deeper at each road wash out.

It is not quite as deep as I had imagined and only comes above my knees. However, it’s powerful velocity feels like three bull dozers trying to clear me away. I push back through the forceful flowing water, get my panniers and drag my legs through the cold Himalaya mountain water hoping for the best for a second time. I am still crying, however my feet, shoes and legs are now very cold and shock my eyes into drying out.

I freedom camp solo, travel alone and have pedaled a crossed deserts, mountains passes and traveled throughout arctic climates alone without concern. However, this river crossing at 3800 meters (12500 feet) has gotten the best of me.

I have long ago discovered that physical and mentally I will take it farther than most, however, emotionally I melt down long before I will give up. And yes, occasionally I can be seen, pedaling along with tears rolling down my cheeks hiding behind my sunglasses.

It is a good thing that there is no shame in tears because river current is my weakness. I have been washed down rivers a few times in my life. Once in the forty mile river in a class 3 rapid in the arctic, I flipped an old school wooden canoe and was rescued downstream by kayakers with a rope. Another time, I filled my lungs up with water and was punched by a good friend in the chest to clear my airway.

I can swim, in fact I am a lifeguard but humbled time and time again by the power of water. Cascading current has a way of making me feel small, very small and very much alone. At 108 pounds (49 kilos) and 5 foot 1 (1.55 meters) I have been swept off my feet without warning while trekking through rivers right next to larger friends. However, I have always considered myself huge compared to an Asian person.

Normally, I would never fess up about such humbling emotional moments, however, after having talked to a few folks on bicycle tour about tires and tears, it turns out that I am not all that alone after all. Here’s what I found out about crying on tour.

Lonesome Blues. A couple of male bicycle tourist said they cried while pedaling because bicycle touring solo is lonesome. For more about that read Boo Hoo Hoo Tackling The Lonesome Blues.

Turtles. A friend cycled up on another solo bicycle tourist in Kyrgyzstan on the side of the road and found him crying hysterically over a turtle. The turtle had been run over; his shell was cracked and he was squealing in pain. The bicycle tourist was also squealing in pain, crying, trying to sort out how to help the turtle.

Always Saying Good-bye. One touring couple that I met in India told me that both partners had cried that week. He started crying when it was time to say good-bye to yet another new friend, a sweet family, who had brought them in for the night.

Exhaustion and Hunger The other half of the touring couple had a little cry a few days earlier on the side of the road about ½ km from the town that was the stop for the day. She was hungry, tired, frustrated and did not want to go on. She laughed when she told me because she hadn’t realized the destination was right on the other side of the hill less than ½ km away.

Celebration. A couple of cyclists I asked reported that sometimes making it to the goal is worth a few tears. For one, it was pedaling across Canada to the ocean, for the other it was completing a dream, a 6 month cycling loop in South East Asia.

Tires and Tears? How about you? Are you willing to share an Oprah worthy bicycle touring moment? I’ll send some cyberspace tissue for the best story in the comment boxes below, and please remember, there is no shame in tears even on a bicycle tour.

Call A Friend, Ask The Audience, 50/50…Who Wants To Be A Cyclist?

As I pedal up the mountainous Karakorum Highway (KKH) I am admiring the lush green hills, oh no, not again… I jam the brakes dive to the side of the road and throw up. Jump back up on the bicycle and pedal on… Another puke rally for me as I make my way over the mountains with 50 percent of my lunch left in my belly. The funny thing is I don’t want to stop pedaling because at each turn of the bend in the road the people here are truly fun to meet and be around.

Frequently throughout the day I am greeted with clapping from inside buses and women in head scarf smiling out the car windows. A couple of families on holiday that I met stopped and caught up to me to say hello several times throughout the final 200km of the KKH. Despite my collapsing stomach, the people of Pakistan are truly special.

Call A Friend As anyone who reads my writing knows Mongolia has always been my favorite country. However, Pakistan, may be taking the lead in beautiful mountain scenery and ridiculously nice, fun people. The people lucky enough to live in Pakistan score off the charts on the sense of humor, warm hearted hospitality and kindness scale. My new phone is full of contact numbers of folks to stay with, dinner invitations, on call Urdu/English language translators and phone calls just checking in to say welcome to Pakistan.

In case you forgot, I am also a girl in a Muslim country were women have a different role then in western countries. However, I have experienced nothing but respect, encouragement and offers of tea. Granted my ankles can spin a head or 2 around here but hey there is nothing wrong with having the world’s sexiest ankles. Besides I have never had any cleavage to distract anyone so for the first time in my life at least some part of me provides an extra tingle in somebody’s pants.

I was stopped today as I made my final push off the KKH into Islamabad. Some university students wanted to ask me to name 3 problems I have encountered since entering Pakistan and crossing down the KKH. I had to laugh and say honestly?, there really isn’t anything….. I thought hard and said I don’t think this counts but the kids want to play all the time and hold on to the back of the bike as I go up the mountains. At first the game’s intention is to push me up the hill but when the energy in their little legs wanes it becomes me towing them up the hill. Pandemic The Magic Bicycle is struggling to stay upright and get over the hill. I eventually stop, laugh with them for a few moments then tell them to let go and run beside me if they really want to run all the way across Pakistan. However, this probably could be easily prevented, if I actually could chew or carry all the gum some of them are trying to sell me.

Ask The Audience The only other answer I could think of for the road side pop quiz was concerning some of the unique behavior of the young men on motorbikes after they sort out that I am indeed a rare breed of species, a foreign solo woman on a magic bicycle. The drive by ‘OMG look at her I might just crash look’ these guys sport is an ongoing concern as I pedal the world. And by no means NOT unique to the region.

However, here in Pakistan, the ‘OMG look at her I might just crash look’ has great entertainment value for me. When a guy on a motorbike decides to flirt it up while going mock ninety in heavy traffic, I am initially concerned for his wellbeing and lack of focus on driving the road. I am the friendly type; however, flirting in traffic in foreign lands KM after KM really doesn’t do it for me. In hot pursuit these guys are and sticking to their motorized manly mission to get my attention.

As I slam Pandemic’s brakes and skid into anyone official looking, like a sling shot off the manly motorcyclists go, red faced, leaving me laughing with an audience. Anyone official looking, military, police, truck drivers, old, religious, or female make the best audiences. The great news here is, this is Pakistan and people work together in groups and these official folks are everywhere. Also, the Pakistani sense of humor is expansive and fun. Therefore, these security filled official audiences’ welcome magic bicycles and also find this ‘fling the flirt’ tactic as entertaining as I do.

So who wants to be a cyclist?

Tibetan Leg Lunch…Top 5 Ways To Deal With Dogs While Cycling

A chorus of alarm has been set off in the sleepy Tibet police town of Yanjing, the first police check point into Tibet. Foreigners are not technically allowed to come down this road hence my nighttime duck and cover, drive by technique. Therefore, the canine chorus is awake and on duty as I proceed under the barricade amongst a forest thick echo of barking, chasing and howling dogs. I cross deeper into Tibet, squeeze my horn, make noises with my water bottle and the dog pack moves on to other activities. These dogs are as motivated as dogs gets hence the perfect trial for all dog safety cycling techniques I can come up with.

Top 5 Ways to Deal With Dogs While Cycling?

The rock technique. Throw rocks. A lot of dogs have not been treated all that well therefore throwing rocks at the ground near them will scare them off. I do my best to not actually hit them.

The swing a water bottle technique. Water bottles make excellent weapons of defense to swing around, num chuck Bruce Lee style and call off the chase. The noise the plastic makes at times is enough to do the trick.

The chemical canine warfare technique. Attach pepper spray to the handle bars and if the dog gets too aggressive just spray them and temporarily blind the little buggers. However, prior to turning the dog neighborhood into a Helen Kellar camp you might want to make sure the dog is actually trying to bit you not just chase you for fun. Also, I have heard this technique can easily backfire in the wind and get in your own eyes instead rendering a possible blind ground battle to deal with.

A baseball bat? A fellow cyclists, I met on the road into Tibet after having read about aggressive dogs and bicycle touring decided to bring a baseball bat. A great idea for anyone who has ever been chased and bit and well worth the empowering benefits to overcome the fear.

My personal favorite is the gratitude technique. Cycle past psycho dog and say hello, thank you for letting me pass and not biting me. I actually lift my legs while saying this over and over. Perhaps it is half prayer and half personal mantra but so far the canine community has been remarkably supportive.

Is Peeing In The Snow Really Considered Artwork?

As most of you know, thanks to my mom I was born a girl. Anyone who changed my diapers back then truly realized that I was indeed a girl. As the years past by I shed my dependency on the cloth diaper and became friends with the toilet and learned to sit or squat to pee, a far more convenient peeing position than standing due to my proximity to the toilet target.

However, while bicycle touring or any outdoor adventure peeing in the far more hygienic option of the great outdoors has become my peeing location of choice. I will chose a tree, bush, field or behind a deserted building long before I venture into a fish bowl of urine. As Pandemic The Magic Bicycle stands watch, I look both ways for cars, hustle to the closest tree and power pee like a world champion girly girl. Lightning fast, preferably on a downhill and out of site, I pee like the girl I am, hike up my be the adventure panties and pedal on.

This remarkable natural technique has been practiced by millions of women since the beginning of time. Boys pee standing up and girls pee squatting, a beautiful difference between men and women and one that should be embraced by both sexes.

Last week an article I wrote about Solo Female Bicycle Touring was quoted in a bicycle touring manual e-book in the Advice For Woman Planning To Bike Tour chapter between the periods and peeing section, a baffling placement of an article quote celebrating solo female bicycle touring and safety. Perhaps due to sponsorship dollars the writers advocate for women to use a peeing device that allows women to pee standing up like men. Also, the writers speak of women having to hold their pee for hours while bicycle touring in SE Asia prior to finding a good spot, an issue I have never encountered in SE Asia or anywhere due to my stealth lightning fast girly girl power peeing technique, and no folks a manual or special plastic device is not necessary to learn such a remarkably simple, natural technique. In fact, most 5 year olds have this one mastered.

Therefore, I scratch my head and wonder why some people insist on seeing a man’s world as more convenient especially when it comes to peeing. I am proud to pee like a girl and my thighs are stronger for it. I have spend countless hours while cycling peeing on the side of the road without major issue and thousands of cold winter nights back in Alaska peeing outside without complaint or envy of the boys, for after all spelling things with pee in the snow isn’t exactly considered artwork.

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Bicycle Touring Solo? Boo Hoo Hoo, How To Tackle The Lonesome Blues

Lonesome is described by the Webster’s dictionary as forlorn, lost, alone, deserted, solitary, isolated, secluded, remote, out of the way, without a friend in the world. Lonesome is described by the solution oriented solo bicycle tourists glossary of terms as….if at times after weeks or months of solo bicycle travel, a profound forlorn feeling creeps into your soul, it is perfectly normal and healthy to have deep meaningful conversation with your bicycle. Psychiatric counseling will not be necessary unless the bicycle or other inanimate objects begin to respond in any recognizable verbal auditory format.

And no, a squeaky brake pad does not qualify as a conversation starter. However, just after breakfast this morning, Pandemic The Magic Bicycle past gas, she then got to chatting and told me she would prefer tea to coffee this morning. Just kidding, Pandemic The Magic Bicycle only talks to me after lunch. However, many bicycles have become muses, bicycles with character, bicycles who are characters and have inspired many a solo bicycle tourist to write a book, after all solitude does have its benefits. Check out the WOW (women on wheels) Wall for books, blogs and photos.

Flip It! Flip, defined as the act of turning over in mid air and landing on ones feet. Flip, or turn all that lonesome energy into something positive and entertaining. Many people from many countries, in many countries have asked me “Are You Alone”? I can be completely oblivious to my being a “onesome” and not have thought about it in some time and then here comes the bomb of all reminders. “Are You Alone” and all of a sudden I feel so very boo hoo hoo, playing my miniature violins for myself, all alone. So flip the energy into something positive and fun, keep a journal and call it S.O.L.O, Sexy, Out there, Loud and Out of control and spend time thinking about Annie Londonderry, Gedridur Thorbjarnardottir, Amelia Earhart, and other female explorers, However, while pondering your remarkable similarities to the great women in history, it is important to check in with the ego for we all can’t be famous or perhaps we can, if only in our own minds.

It is pertinent for the sake of this so called sanity to create self entertaining answers to this ‘are you alone’ curiosity for I will venture a guess and say that there isn’t a woman out there who has travelled solo in the developing world who hasn’t been asked “Are You Alone”, at least once and in some places several times a day. A while back, I told a harmless curious motorcycle pose of Indonesian men that my 6 brothers, and I gestured how big they were, all 6, 7 feet plus tall were waiting for me up ahead, a half dozen, large genetic mutants waiting for little alone me. I could hardly say it without laughing, as I explained why I couldn’t talk about being alone anymore and must go right away and meet my large mutant family members. I have also mentioned that I am part of the ‘I Have No Friends’ international social club and they should become members. Or, that I am studying the effects of solitude and isolation on mental stability and had decided, last night, while sharpening my knife, that it was a precarious balance. So have a laugh. For solo female bicycle touring can be as fun as you make it.

I would love to hear your experiences of solo cycling and bicycle touring. Leave a comment below or join the WOW (women on wheels) Wall.

Party Like A Rock Star

“That is the worst idea I have ever heard”. The words escape from my laughter as I accept the invitation and follow new friends to the top rated tourist attraction in Northern, Laos. River Tubing is a Laos specialty, no shoes or sanity required for this activity that takes place on the Nam Song River in Vang Vieng. Although, you might want to bring a helmet for all good parties require a helmet. A once quaint little picturesque village nestled into a scenic mountain backdrop now colonized by a peculiar happy insanity only found as a direct result of copious amounts of adrenalin and drinks served out of sand castle sized buckets.

“This drink is not normal”. As I sip from my bucket and watch people launch themselves off of a wooden tower onto a trapeze swing over the river. Half a bucket later, I start to wonder what on earth is really in my drink for I am very awake. Circus juice or amphetamines or both at best guess, and I can assure you that me on speed is the worst idea anyone has ever had, for since birth, sitting still has never been my specialty.

The majority of the crowd has lost their tube and is swimming down the river from one trapeze circus act bar to the next “event”. Only in a country like Laos where words such as ‘play at or own risk, liability, death and endangerment, law suit’ are not muttered could only such a place exist. I am now calling it the drinking, drowning, swimming place for river tubing no longer seems like the appropriate word for this mobile nautical festival of intoxication, acrobatic events and ultra hyper happy swimming drunk people. A whole crowd of folks who also can’t sit still, I may have found my people, maybe I will live here for a while.

“This is such a bad idea”. The thought goes through my head as I climb 2 stories on top of wooden scaffolding and grab hold of the zip line. My hands grasp hold of the circa WW2 metal handle bar and off I go at a million miles an hour down a thin metal cable, drunk, flying on speed buckets to get dropped on my head into the river. Splash, I feel like I have been in a traffic accident as I swim through the current amongst an obstacle of ropes and stray tubes to the next “event”.

As my whiplash sets in and mud ricochets off of my face from the mud pit wrestling match, I suddenly remember that I am on a world bicycle tour and getting injured while partying like a dead rockstar doesn’t exactly qualify as an excuse to quit. As I make my way to drier ground, I bump into a mud stained hyper circus colleague and say, in order to remind myself, I rode my bicycle here. He is laughing too hard at me to talk about it and so am I, therefore he finds my unlikely bicycle story hilarious.

The next morning, I wake up with a brain tumor, say to Pandemic The Understanding Magic Bicycle, good thing you are green because I might hurl all over you today and pedal, pedal, pedal as fast as I can out of the chaos which is Vang Vieng. The most fun, worst example of tourism I have ever seen and I could have stayed a week.

Until Next Time Vang Vieng!