Dangers Ahead
Dangers Ahead
All throughout my travels, local people constantly warned me of the dangers ahead. Often it was nothing or maybe just a mean dog that would attack if I rode the bike down its street. Other times it was warnings about the band of thugs hiding in the bushes that would steal everything, which never happened. Paranoia was everywhere and it was best to let it go in one ear and out the other.
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Never was I warned about the real dangers ahead though. In 1987 while visiting the Philippines, I paired up with an "around-the-world" bicyclist from England, George Craig. After nearly a month and a half of biking together, wearing only shorts, we stopped to take a break and enjoy some refreshments. I was able to see the backend of my bike from where I was sitting, but George's bike was leaning against the wall further away and was out of sight. When the time came to pay, his bike was gone. The panic in his eyes told me he wasn't joking. Jumping onto the bike, I circled the area for several hours while George and the owner drove around searching as well. We spent the next day looking and even tried buying a "hot" used bike, but again with no success. Having lost everything: money, passport, bike, and even the shirt on his back, I bought him a new shirt, loaned him two hundred dollars, and just like that, was back on the road alone once again. |
Another of those unknown dangers ahead was a simple case of beauty and the beast. Going for a walk after breakfast one morning in Kuala Lumpur, Malaysia, I bumped into a young lady who showed some enthusiasm for getting acquainted. Accepting her invite back to her place, to my dismay she didn't live alone, but with her sister and sleazy brother-in-law. Being offered a glass of juice was the last thing I remembered. Luckily the name of my hotel was on their keyring. I was told later that I had been delivered by taxi after being found lying on the road completely unconscious. Losing $1100 was nothing compared to losing five days of my life unable to walk or talk. She was pretty though.
I was also robbed twice in Argentina. Sleeping in the woods outside of Bariloche, I awoke to find everything gone other than the clothes on my back which I had slept in. The small town local radio station got involved and three days later broadcasted that my things had been located. This lovely ski resort was truly ashamed that this had happened in their town. All that was missing was 4 or 5 cans of tuna, a pocket knife, and a small transistor radio. The other time was on the ferry crossing the Magellan Strait, which was my fault for leaving my bags strapped to my bike unattended. They took all my rain gear, and the following morning it began to rain and continued for seven straight days.
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There are other incidents that come to mind, but one of the few rewarding unknown dangers happened on my 46th birthday. Rolling into Asuncion, Paraguay, darkness had already fallen on the city and I needed to get off the bike and off the streets quickly. This was Paraguay's capital and the streets were busy. The first hotel sign I came across said "Hotel Playboy" and they had a vacancy with a lovely balcony overlooking the street below. Returning from dinner, the entire building was now lit up. This was not just a hotel but a Playboy Club as well. Taking a quick peek into the club, the place was empty so I went upstairs to hang out on the balcony. Answering the soft tapping on the door minutes later, a Playboy Bunny walked in dressed in her tiny little outfit. Apparently, the clerk had noticed it was my birthday. She wasn't interested in my life story but oddly wanted a song instead. On the road, I had sung parts of James Brown's song, "I Feel Good" at least once a day for the past couple of years. I didn't know all the lyrics but at the moment, that didn't matter. |
Right after the very first "I Feel Good," she started wiggling and dancing, and quite frankly, I felt like James Brown and kept singing. At the song's end, I was richly rewarded before she scooted back to work. For a while, I thought about going downstairs and thanking the front desk but another tapping on the door stopped me, and in stepped another Bunny. I sensed she wasn't interested in my life story either, so I butchered "I Feel Good" once again. Never figured out what it was about that song, but it sure had a way of getting some women wiggling, or at least Playboy Bunnies. She didn't mind the mixed-up lyrics and I was richly rewarded for the second time.
Finally, in bed, the clock had passed the point of being tomorrow, and the reminiscing of a magnificent birthday was fading away when another tapping on the door broke the euphoria. This time it was two Playboy Bunnies that looked like twins in their cute little outfits. I still had a bit of James Brown left in me so I belted out "I Feel Good" one last time. In the morning my knees were so weak, it was difficult to get out of bed, but the smell of breakfast in the air helped. My birthday was over and the hotel was too expensive to stay a second night so I packed up and rolled back out onto the street heading toward the border of Brazil. It was a long ride giving me plenty of time to realize it wasn't me, it was James.
For more tips on traveling safely, visit: https://global.psu.edu/article/travel-safety-tips-know-you-go
