Knowing this, the lure of heading up under our own steam was irresistible. The road starts gently enough, but the gradient quickly rises until even the KLR's are labouring to climb the steep and winding road. Riding up is a game of balance; standing on the pegs and leaning far forward to keep the bike from flipping whilst also trying to maintain enough weight on the back to stop the wheel from slipping. Whatever the technique, stopping is not an option because there is no way that the bike brakes would hold nearly 350kg of bike, luggage and rider on such a gradient - and it would be a long and humiliating slide back down.
Once arriving at the Jungle Club, we were met with panoramic views across the entire island and a resort that has been cleft out of the mountain whilst retaining the natural features. The restaurant s dotted with large boulders; one forming part of a well, another upholstered as guest seating. A deck juts out over a steep drop and is scattered with cushions and low tables. This scenery is so breathtaking that even the guests talk in muted tones, speaking loudly would spoil the serenity of this place.
Our intention had been to enjoy a quiet breakfast and then depart for Myanmar, however the mountain beckoned. On leaving the Jungle Club we were lured by the promise of testing riding and turned off the club's access road onto an unsealed track heading into the forest. This ended up offering some spectacular riding, with steep and rutted trails surging up and down along the mountain ridge. All three riders were lathered in sweat within a short time as we wrestled the fully laden bikes along rock and mud pathways. Hidden surprises in the firm of plantation farmhouses and buffalo added to the delight.
The cost of this distraction was insufficient time to meet the last ferry back to the mainland, so we scooted back to the villas for another night.
