I want to ride my bike
I want to ride my bicycle
I want to ride it where I like
Aran and I are missing our bikes!
So, at every opportunity, we rent them. And in some cases, we pretend they are our road bikes. (See Aran to the left in "aero" position)
Canadian, Africycle bikes were our ride during a week of business lessons with Victor and the gang at Grace, in Zomba, Malawi. Early in the morning we'd dodge dogs and listened to little voices scream "azungu!" as we pedaled through the village. And on the way home in the evening we'd wind through the busy market, and arrive at our guesthouse with the red dusty earth caked on to our sweaty skin. 
Wandering aimlessly down quiet roads lined with banana trees, we swerved around herds of cows while exploring the anicent ruins in Hampi, India. Aran willingly followed me down a random road that led us through a small community, free of tourism, and instead filled with Indian families going about their daily routines.
A big heavy mountain bike, carried my shaking, terrified soul down the steep 1600m descent from the top of Doi Pui mountain in Chiang Mai, Thailand. Every once in a while I'd get the nerve to take in the scenery surrounding me...coffee plantations, lychee trees and corn, grown by the indigenous people living in the National Park. For the past few weeks though, Aran and I have been striking out on bicycles.
We practically had to provide a urine sample to rent mountain bikes in Luang Prabang, Laos so we settled for townies. And not 1 km after carrying them down the side of a riverbank, over a bamboo bridge, and back up the riverbank (which a local monk found hilarious to watch), Aran discovered his front tire was completely warped. Back in town the owner blamed us that his bike was a piece of crap! In Si Phan Don (4000 Islands), we rented "brand new" bikes, thinking it was a safe bet, but not long after we set out, Aran's seat collapsed and his right pedal fell off. Probably better it happened sooner than later since my brakes weren't working either.
And most recently, in Kratie, Cambodia, the plan was to ride 15 kms to Kampi. Aah the plan...I'm a project coordinator for crying out loud, I should KNOW nothing ever goes to plan! Expecting a scenic tour on the "Mekong Disovery Trail", we instead found ourselves competing with lorries, and being run off the road by motorcycles, all while inhaling their toxic fumes. Then about 7km into our ride, POP! my tire blew up, so Aran rode back into town and I began to walk.
There have been profanities (obviously... this is me we're talking about) and proclamations that we would absolutely, positively, NEVER rent bikes again, but we did...
Because its worth it.
Because the next day in Luang Prabang we rented mountain bikes (without the urine sample) and explored the bumpy back roads until we reached the city limits. 
Because in Si Phan Don, we got OLD bikes and circled our island of Don Khone, where we discovered a beautiful lookout. There, we paid a local fisherman to take us on a boat ride. Floating out in the Mekong between Laos and Cambodia we spotted the endangered Irrawaddy, freshwater, dolphin as they played against the backdrop of a golden sunset. Afterwards, we rode back into town with only the moonlight to guide us along the dusty road. 
Because my flat tire in Kratie meant walking past loads of locals who all smiled, patted my back and pointed me toward the nearest bike repair shop. With a fixed up bike, we jumped on a boat over to the island of Koh Trong, where we found fresh air in our lungs, cows in our path, children shouting big "HELLO'S!", a sympony of cicadas humming in the trees, and a floating Vietnamese village. 
Because biking allows you to pedal alongside two young Cambodian girls, who refuse to be left behind. They stretch out their arms to hold hands with you and smile and giggle when we run out of things to say.
Because ...
All I wanna do is
Bicycle! Bicycle! Bicycle!
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