December 14, 2014
Why do all good things come to an end?: I did not want to lose this girl
Our last day cycling together was also our longest distance, but the final ninety kilometres to Vientiane was on a well-surfaced, flat and wide road, and we did it easily. It was terribly sad that our time together was coming to an end - the last time we would wake up next to each other in our tents, the last time we'd stop and eat fried rice at a little restaurant together, the last time we'd take an ice cream break. It seemed like Dea had only just arrived, how could she possibly be leaving again so soon? It felt like the shortest three weeks I'd ever known.
Vientiane is often referred to as one of the most laid-back capital cities in the world, but these days it also has an increasing traffic problem, and the cycle into the centre wasn't the most fun way to end our journey together. Another annoyance was the fact that accommodation was more expensive here, and we paid twice as much as we would do elsewhere for a guesthouse, although it was rather a nice one, being run by a Laos man that spent thirty years living in Germany. Personally I found the best thing about this guesthouse to be the Swedish bakery right across the street, which, unlike most bakeries in Sweden, also served french fries. We got some french fries and some beer and sat on the balcony of our guesthouse to sit and watch the world go by.
Unfortunately this fried potato and beer combination made me feel quite unwell again. We had big plans to make our last night together fun by exploring Vientiane's night market and then going to see some of the sights and ending up at the infamous Laos ten-pin bowling centre, but I felt really rather light-headed by the time we'd walked to the first of these locations. The night market was a collection of stalls selling a variety of clothes and knick-knacks close to the Mekong, but I started to feel really weird and I felt like I was almost tripping out walking through the crowds, people's faces becoming blurry as I swayed amongst them. I had to go and sit down by the river and we decided the only thing for it was to go back to the guesthouse. I felt rotten to have ruined our last evening, but Dea said it didn't matter what we did, just that we were together.
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Morning came too quickly, but I was feeling better and we visited the Swedish bakery again for a breakfast sandwich, and then Dea returned her bicycle to the shop where she'd bought it a few weeks earlier. It was here that we got our last photo together, holding up the number 38 next to the Laos flag. Time was passing, the clock ticking too fast. Dea had to leave for the airport all too soon.
We went back to the guesthouse and lay on the bed, holding each other for the last time. It had been such an incredible few weeks. To think back over everything that had happened, everything that Dea and I had shared, was a form of torture. It was torture because here she was right in front of me, and yet she was about to be ripped away from me. She was leaving and we both knew that we would soon be on opposite sides of the planet and that we wouldn't be holding each other again for a very long time. The tears soon started to flow. I felt an intense pain flowing through my body, encompassing all of me. It was such a real, raw emotion. I hated this feeling but I also appreciated it for being so intense, for reminding me that I was alive. We cried and cried. I wanted to tell her not to go. I wanted to come with her and jump on that plane. I did not want to lose this girl. Not now. Not like this. But we both knew this was how it had to be.
We took our bags down the stairs and I loaded up my bike again at the front of the guesthouse, whilst Dea now just had her backpack. No longer was she my cycling companion. It was time for her to return to her life in Denmark. It was so sad, a lump formed in my throat, I just felt completely hollow. I'd found something so, so good here, and now it was slipping from my fingers. Her taxi pulled up and we embraced one last time, an embrace that we both wished would never end but that inevitably had to, and then she climbed into the back of the cab. A little wave from the window and the car pulled away down the street and that was it, she was gone. I collapsed onto a bench, and the tears came again.
Today's ride: 90 km (56 miles)
Total: 34,924 km (21,688 miles)
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