Giving to others  as an act of virtue is essential in Buddhism and brings happiness. Giving alms to a monk yields his blessing. Also in Laos the monks walk around in the morning to gather food from the people in the vicinity of the monasteries; a ritual that we encounter every day since India. Here in Luang Prabang, almsgiving seems to happen in a different ritual then what we are used to so far. Just before dawn the monks walk behind each other in a row a fixed route through the old town and local people kneel humble aside the route and offer food to the monks. It would really be an attraction. At half past five in the morning the alarm goes, but unfortunately we are a bit late. The procession of a dozen monks receives just the last offerings and the series of low stools, meant for tourists, are already being piled up by vendors who still try to sell sticky rice for the monks. It is still dark when we walk back to our guesthouse laughingly. Let's just say that our expectations were somewhat higher. We tick an imaginary checkbox behind this 'must see' in Luang Prabang.

Our cycle route through Laos comprises roughly two loops. First a northern loop where we cycle towards the Chinese border and then gradually turn to Luang Prabang, the city to which all tourists at the border leave by boat. The second loop goes south where we will divert at Vientiane to the east along the Mekong. In Vientiane we see if we cycle through southern Laos to Cambodia or that we cycle a larger loop via Vietnam. If we go through Vietnam, we must apply for a visa in Vientiane.

With some melancholy we have left the famous Mea Hong Son Loop behind. As we sit on a terrace in the old center of Chiang Mai we ruminate about what lies behind: the Alps, Rodopi (Bulgaria), Turkey, Svaneti (Caucasus), Annapurna and the Loop. The highlights are also literally highlights. There is more mountains waiting in the north of Thailand cycling from Chiang Mai via Chiang Rai to Chiang Khong, so it certainly will have something in store for us.

Thailand is not completely unknown to us. We have already gone twice before to find the sun in the Dutch winter time. For the third time, in March 2015, the airline tickets and accommodation were booked but we canceled. Instead of lying at the beach, Harry was lying in the hospital for his open heart surgery. The holidays after the surgery got a more sporty bicycle character, a hobby that seems to have gotten out of control. It has become a way of living. Now, three years later, we finally set foot on Thai soil again. Not by plane from Schiphol, this time we roll from home (or as we call it since our departure: 'the house formerly known as our house') on our faithful two-wheelers into the Thai country. Our bicycle plan does not (yet) focus on the sea and beaches of the famous Thai islands. We head north and enter the Thai mountains and forests.

After New Year and Harry's birthday, the bleak days of January begin. At least that is what we experienced in the Netherlands. Usually there was a planned holiday around carnival to the sun to look forward to. Now we are already in the sun and while in the Netherlands people skate on natural ice, we sweating like horses. We have entered the flat lowlands of Myanmar.

Myanmar, or Burma, is still a country with many secrets. For a long time (almost) inaccessible for foreigners / tourists, then for some time apathetic towards people who want to enter and explore the country by bicycle and not by plane to go to a resort and from there take perhaps a few organized trips. Myanmar, the country with the for us unreadable notebook (and figures), the country where English as a global language has barely made its appearance. Myanmar, a country on the road to openness and democracy, but also with some disturbing appearances in the world news. Since August 2017, the (country) borders have opened up further: you do not have to apply for a permit through shadowy intermediaries - in addition to a visa. In fact, the visa for Myanmar is "a breeze", compared to that for India. Myanmar, a country with a very rich history, the land of the thousands of Pagodas, the one even more brilliant than the other, the land of many ancient empires and cities, often spelled in different ways. During our cycling trip we will visit several former capitals, one of which is currently the capital city: Naypyidaw. Indeed, one from the category: 'never heard of it'. We are curious about this country, like every country or region that we visit. We have our own expectations (or prejudices) and now we are going to experience it.

The seven states in north-east India are called the Seven Sisters. We have now crossed state of Assam and left the valley of the Brahmaputra behind. We will visit two of the six remaining sisters: Nagaland and Manipur. Until recently there have been violent incidents in both states (and also in parts of Assam). The central government of India in Delhi has long neglected this corner of India. In addition, this area stands also culturally, ethnically and geographically furthest away of the rest of India. All this has led to separatist groups. The Indian army is still strongly present. Our Dutch Ministry of Foreign Affairs advises to visit these federal states only if it is necessary and otherwise avoid them. We hear and read also many good things about these states: the beautiful 'hills' of Nagaland with 16 unique Naga tribes and the former kingdom of Manipur, which was the crossroads of Asia for more than 2,500 years in the religious, cultural and economic area. Anyway, the border crossing to Myanmar is in Manipur and the road to Manipur runs through Nagaland. We have to visit the sisters to be able to cycle into Myanmar. 

The second state we visit is Assam, the largest and most populous state in northeastern India. The state is largely occupied by the valley of the miles wide Brahmaputra river. We cross numerous rivers that flow from the Himalayas in the north to the mighty Brahmaputra in the south. The foothills of the Himalayas remain in sight for a long time. We cycle near the southern border of the mountain kingdom of Bhutan.What cycle through rice fields, where the harvest has taken place and now the cows are chewing on the remaining stubble; and immeasurable tea gardens, Assam is known for producing high quality tea.

After Nepal our route runs through the northeast of India. We continue to cycle to the east in the direction of Myanmar and we will cross the Indian states West Bengal, Assam, Nagaland and Manipur. At least that is the plan, you never know. Plans change continuously and detours are made easily. Northeast India is connected by a narrow corridor to the rest of India and is therefore relatively isolated and according to Wikipedia "relatively far from the Indian consciousness". We are very curious what this means "in real life".

It is a lot of hassle in Tbilisi (Georgia) to get the bikes ready for the flight. Especially because we have purchased cheap tickets that allow us to check in 30 kilos of luggage per person and to carry 10 kilos of hand luggage in a standard size bag. We think that our total luggage including bicycles is just under 80 kilograms, but to divide it into this division (30 + 30 + 10 + 10) requires a lot of puzzling and especially a lot of standing on a scale with boxes, bags and stuff. After writing notes on several post-its, calculations and many changes (pedals, luggage racks and tools, for example in hand luggage) it is finally sorted out.

Almost 15 years ago, Roelie walked with her girlfriend Barbara in Nepal to Mount Everest Base Camp and Kalapathar. It was heavy, primitive, (too) high but very beautiful. Since then she has been dreaming of walking the Annapurna Circuit, the other big and famous multi-day walking tour in Nepal. It is therefore only logical that this walking tour is in our itinerary.

The last part of our route through Georgia takes us from Kutaisi to the capital Tbilisi via all kinds of back-roads. We leave the high Caucasus definitively, even though we continue to see the mighty peaks for days. We are looking forward to Tbilisi, but less in the way there. We expect a number of boring stages. Fortunately, this expectation did not come true.

From Kutaisi we cycle to Zugdidi. At least that was the plan. We did not make it. After a very simple and flat first half ,where we share the road with pigs, cows, geese and horses, we turn off the main road into the hills.

The border crossing at Posof, Turkey brings us to Georgia. Actually, you do not even see that you arrive in another country. That is explainable because we come from a Turkish region where quite a lot of ethnic Georgians live. But there are differences. Little litter in the verges. No broken (beer) glass on and along the road: beer is sold here in (large) plastic bottles. And unfortunately - we have waited a week for this observation - compared to the Turks the people are a bit stiffer and less hospitable.

In our last blog we wrote that we left the route along the Black Sea and choose to retreat into the interior of Turkey, back into the mountains. It turned out to be a good choice! In this part of Turkey you are off the coast within a few dozen kilometers between mountains of more than 4,000 meters altitude and you do not get bored of the many beautiful views and natural beauty. The northern mountain slopes are densely forested, the southern slopes are thinly overgrown and show the most spectacular rock formations. The Turkish government is busy with billions of costly mega-projects, particularly in the area of ​​infrastructure (tunnels) and hydropower (reservoirs). Villages are very thinly strewn, towns you find even less. Some villages have also disappeared under the water surface of a reservoir.

The route along the Black Sea can not appeal to us as mountain lovers. The road along the coast is busy and boring and forms a big barrier in all villages and towns along the way. Rivers flowing from beautiful valleys inland into the sea all along the coast. It is tempting to get back inlands but that means an up and down the same road while we actually would like to reach and cycle through Georgia, however "winter is coming". It is sometimes difficult to make such choices. Turkey is so beautiful. We skip the plan to cycle to a monastery from Trabzon. The plan to cycle along the coast to Georgia is also skipped. The mountains keep calling us and eventually we give in. But for about 400 km we cycle along the Black Sea coast: from Samsun to Eskipazar (near Rize) and then we are done with the Black Sea coast. 

Turkey seriously slows us sown: too many beautiful encounters, too much tea, too many detours, which we insert at the last minute and of course too many mountains. We have a great time, but realize that due to the coming winter, our travel plans through Kazakhstan and Uzbekistan will no longer be realistic. We would also like to be able to walk the Annapurna circuit in the Nepalese Himalayas, which is doable in November at the latest. We know that we will miss out on beautiful countries, but we don't want to rush on a travel plan that was made in back home in Oirschot.

What unprecedented hospitality the Turks know! From the picturesque and old little İznik, where our previous blog ended, we cycle to Sakarya, a city with approximately 1 million inhabitants. After 20 kilomters we buy bread and cheese a supermarket. The owner invites us for a cup of tea. A few kilometers further the owner of a stall along the road gives us grapes and a peach. In Sakarya we are approached by a German speaking man in front of a car garage and we end up on invitation of the man and the owner of the garage at a restaurant. That is quiet convenient: it just started raining and the bikes parked save in the garage when we set of to a nearby restaurant. The 67-year-old German-speaking man is visiting from Istanbul. He studied mechanical engineering in Munich, traveled extensively, had many different jobs and companies and wants to live in Malaysia next year and export teak. Maybe we'll meet again there.

We have left Europe behind us. From Gelibolu we cross the straits of the Marmara Sea by ferry. Across the street we buy some groceries and see a barber shop next door. Harry needs a haircut and is turns out not only to be a haircut, but also extensively massaged, washed, eyebrows and nose hairs are trimmed and the hairs at the ears are scorched with a lighter. Afterwards we get tea, there is some communication via Google Translate. We have to pay the small amount of 2 euro ... We cycling along the coast with a strong headwind. As we stop for water at a mini-market along the road, an incredibly sweet little owner lends us a peeler to cut the bought peaches, offers coffee on the house and an extra peach and two hugs at the farewell. He also gives us a plasticized map of Turkey on one side and the world on the other side. We can probably use that often. It is hot today. We have not experienced this hot yet. At a petrol station we buy cold water and are called by Ismail. He owns an outdoor shop in Bursa and invites us to come by when we are there. He also warns us for the traffic. You might feel safe on the emergency lane, but it is not unusual for motorists to use it to overtake. In the town of Biga we again check in at a hotel. The lira is so low, that a hotel costs so little that we allow ourselves to take a warm shower, have a clean and private toilet, sleep in air conditioning and get an extensive breakfast for 20 euros. We need to make a choice in Biga. We cycled all day on a D road, a wide motorway with relatively little traffic but also a bit boring. We can continue on that same D road and go to Erdek to a good campsite or we choose an unknown route more inland as suggested by routeplanner bikemap. We choose the latter and head to the town of Gönen. It is another hot day. Fortunately, the climbing is at the beginning of the day when it is relatively not so hot. Shortly after leaving the town, a stray dog ​​is annoyingly in our way as if he would not let us through. When we carefully pass him, he follows us on the back wheel, in front of the wheel and next to the wheel. We climb and do not go so fast and he keeps up easily. Over a distance of 10 kilometers we are suddenly a pack of three: Harry, Roelie and doggie. Actually, that is exactly what we wished for. We would not be the first to go on a bicycle trip with a dog. On the way the dog is attacked by two herd dogs, but he bravely passes through and stays with us. Before entering a village we can descend strongly and make some speed. That will not be the only reason that the dog stops following. In the village we see some more possible hostile four-legged friends. End of journey with dog.

Sweaty from a steep climb we arrive in Misa, apparently a picturesque village within the expanding boundaries of the metropolis Bursa. Bursa has been the capital of the great Ottoman empire. It counts over 2 million inhabitants and many must see attractions. Misa has a campground according to maps.me; it's always the question whether that's true, but this time it is confirmed by Google Maps so we are in good hope. We first cycle into the village and see serried terraces along the river. This looks nice! The local mini-supermarket has a small product range. We think with some improvising we can cook a meal, but the restaurants beckon. The well deserved beer is unfortunately not available. On a terrace we drink an icetea and then we go to the campground. We pay 40 Turkish lira (converted € 5.58) for 2 nights with the manager of the on-site restaurant in a net suit. There is a separate tent area and we are not the only ones, not even the only cyclists! We pitch the tent and want to take a shower, but first we say hello to the group of people in the middle of the site. They immediately offer ice-cold beer, red wine and ayçekirdeği, or sunflower seeds, to nibble (or make an effort because it requires some dexterity). We meet Aydogan and Ece, they live in Istanbul and came by bus to Bursa. Ece has been restoring ornaments in mosques, churches and country houses for 30 years. She shows an impressive series of photos with gold leaf ceilings and own designs. Aydogan has been her friend for 7 months and they are now working together. They would camp 2 days here, but that was 10 days ago and they are still here.

From the pass at the border between Bulgaria and Greece at Makaza, we see a brand new way down. A few hundred meters after the border, both bicycle route planner bikemap.com as maps.me ignore this masterpiece of civil engineering work and to choose the old road. Already after 100 meters we regret choosing the old road. Instead of descending, we have to climb over the mountain top while the new road passes through with a tunnel. However, the regret quickly disappears when it turns out that no car (or other transportation vehicle) drives on this road anymore. We have this very acceptable old route for ourselves. After that first part of the climb we can also start a great descent. We hope to see the Mediterranean Sea, but that does not work. It is more correct to write the Aegean Sea. A few years ago we cycled from home on the rather simple 'Green Road to the Mediterranean' which ended for us in the French town of Sète. Now we cycled the mountain route to the Mediterranean Sea: many kilometers and definitely a lot altitude meters more.

Little is told about Bulgaria in the Netherlands. As far as we know, Bulgarians are good at discus, wrestling, skimming and working cheaply. Quite limited and not too positive image! Besides, we had prepared ourselves "just fine": we thought the Euro was the currency. It turned out to be the Lev. And after a day we found out that the clock had to be moved 1 hour ahead. We passed a first time zone. No discus, wresters or skimmers seen, only friendly people. Bulgarians seem somewhat stiffer at first than the Serbs. That is not a criticism of Bulgarians but a great compliment for the Serbs.

Serbia is the fourth country of former Yugoslavia that we visit on our cycling tour around the world. And this country is again completely unique compared to the previous three. The country has left impressions with us that we will not forget.

For cyclists it is good to know that campsites are thinly strewn in Slovenia, Croatia and Bosnia-Herzegovina. If you want to camp, it is advisable to adjust your route accordingly. Something we did not do. We searched every day for a campground for the next day on Google Maps and Maps.me. Every time it turned out to be quite a task to find a camping spot in the vicinity of our route, on a day trip. Wildcamping is not allowed in Slovenia and Croatia and we have not tried how strict the authorities are. Partly because of the daily thunderstorms, we have not slept four times in our tent in Slovenia, Croatia and Bosnia, but in half a mobile home, a B&B and a hotel (2x).

The Alps are beautiful, not many will dispute that. But if you have to get on the other side,  people still find them a barrier. Motorists will have to deal with tunnels, toll-laden and congested roads, an overheated engine, traffic jams, children yelling in the backseat and fatigue after a day of driving from the Netherlands or other Northern European countries. Cyclists (without e-motor and with luggage) often choose the lowest passes and / or stage with a not too high percentage of incline. Favorite for cyclist is the Reschen Pass, which is about 1500 m high and has a moderate rate of increase. The Brenner Pass is also widely used.

From camping Strasbourg we cycle into the old center with the special cathedral of which there is only one tower instead of two. On Sunday mornings it is quiet in the streets where surprising rivers and brooks flow through in different places. Via a modern white slow traffic bridge we cross the Rhine and enter Germany again. 

The border with Luxembourg is partly formed by the river Our. We cycle about 15 km across Luxembourg territory until we return to Germany with a ferry over the Mosel: our 5th border crossing within 5 days. We follow the Mosel a bit to the east until Konz, a town that lies at the spot where the Saar flows into the Mosel. The Saar is a "silent river". Due to a number of high dams the flow of this river has at least optically stopped. We will continue to follow the Saar for two days. Now we cycle a little 20 km until we arrive in Saarburg. Saarburg is a small old town with a castle on a high rock, a cozy square with few terraces and a water trap in the center where the stream Leuk flows into the Saar. A little further on this tiny river we find our campsite which - again - is occupied with almost only Dutch people. The tent area is right on the bank of the Leuk. There are two other bicycle couples and we chat a bit. One couple comes from Ost Friesland (Germany) and cycles from the Bodensee to Katwijk. They have great tips about our route towards Strasbourg. The other couple comes from Groningen (The Netherlands), but is originally Frisian.

Well, it is clear we will not blog daily. That would be impossible. Not only for us, but also for the people who follow us on our website. Nobody wants 1000+ stories about our "everyday" experiences. We want to blog about a theme, about the area or cycle route. This blog is about the first week of our world trip, or we can also say that we give you some information about cycling through the first hills in South Limburg Hills, the Belgian Ardennes, the Eifel and Saarland.

Finally it’s time to take off! We lived towards this day for months. After all preparations, selling our belongings and our house, arranging a lot, and not to be forgotten unforgettable farewell moments, it is departure day!