Takes all day to bus, walk, hitch and motorbike-taxi it up to the border post at Nameo. By the time I arrive, it has closed for the day. My bike is still there, though, being looked after by the customs officer in his hut.
I spend the night in a guesthouse at the border, where a large mouse (or possibly a small rat) drops from the ceiling and lands six inches from my head. I scream like a girl.