Tag Archives: Vietnam

Day 22

Gorgeous scenery abounds but still hilly. We are starting to feel a bit worn and look forward to our first climbing destination in Huu Lung . There is a big difference between riding on flat terrain verses hills and we both now feel the full weight of our gear. I’m starting to get some small cramps in my thigh and Cher had trouble walking down stairs. It will be nice to put the upper body to work while we rest the lower part.

Early in the afternoon we arrived in Lang Som, a sizable city with swarms of scooters. Gary recommended a hotel, which is also recommended by Lonely Planet. However, at a rate of 320,000 VND without a window and 400,000 VND with, we went across the street and found a place with similar facilities for only 250,000 VND. The 70,000 Dong difference only amounts to 3.30 USD, but that’s also the cost of 5 beers or 2 bowls of pho.

We have been riding 7 days without a rest day. However, with our first climbing destination just a day’s ride away, we’ve decided to persevere. We were quite spoiled by the gentle landscape of China and although we are getting stronger, we may have to reconsider some of our choices in gear. Hopefully tomorrow will be more downhill.

Day 21

Since the next major town – Lang Son was 58 miles away, we made the serendipitous decision to split the distance and located a likely spot for a town along the way. A good thing we did since our ascent continued unabated for the entire day. On a long ascent, we were followed by a group of small children, who raced me up the road, and won effortlessly.

Cached Google maps of China and Vietnam are a bit like a description of a drunken night, bits and pieces are coherent but the details are a blur. A couple of side roads might indicate a town or a dirt trail, Dinh Lap was a bit of both. The whole town is a dusty cul-de-sac with few restaurants, 2 hotels, a small market area and some homes. Here we would have lunch and find a room for the night before the long ascent which most likely would continue tomorrow.

Pointing and gesturing I tried to order 2 bowls of pho, and some ready-made stir fries lying in a cabinet, basically 2 of whatever they had in the little restaurant. Assuming that we were indecisive or undecipherable, the waitress made the urgent call and a minute later, a lady arrived, greeting us cordially with “how do you do?” in perfect English. With her help, our lunch was speedily arranged, and a hotel room secured. When I complimented her English, she informed us that her husband was Australian.

I immediately began concocting scenarios to explain how an Australian could come to live here, in the middle of nowhere, in this tiny little town. Maybe a Vietnamese man from Australia was what she meant. No sooner had I finished my theory than Gary appeared. Wearing a bright orange and reflective silver work shirt he was larger than life, exceptionally so compared to the diminutive Vietnamese. Gary was every bit an Australian, broad, affable and with a hint of mischief. He teased the kids, the waitress, opened a beer with his belt buckle and appeared completely at home, despite speaking very little Vietnamese. We learned that Gary had spent 8 years in Vietnam and had previously called China, Hong Kong and New Zealand home as well.

After a bit of chit-chat, Gary offered us to crash his house, which is right next door to the restaurant. With our trikes and filthy muddy bags, we declined. We did however happily take Gary and his wife Hui, up on their offer to laundry and dinner at their home.

Their generosity afforded us a glimpse of local Vietnamese life. Of course the extended family all either live in the house or the area. In fact many of the people in the village were in some way related. Their home, like many Vietnamese homes, has large doors that open towards the street and a high ceiling which creates a senses of openness, equally displayed by the people who live there. A variety of friends and relatives came and went in the short time we were there.

Having finished a delicious dinner and several ice-cold Coronas, Gary entertained us with stories of his many travels, made possible by his work. As a mechanical engineer specializing in hydraulics, mainly used in mining equipment, Gary does free-lance work anywhere in the world there is a mine. He finally called Vietnam home, working 3 months on in Vietnam and vacationing 2 months off in Australia.

Cher and I now have many reasons to the share own home should we meet any travelers far from theirs.

Day 20

Today felt like 3 days in one. So much good fortune, that despite the burning heat we had a joyous day. Our terrain was quite hilly. Our trikes were like cars on a roller coaster, slowly ratcheting up to the apex before unleashing our kinetic energy on the slopes below. It was exhilarating as we easily reached speeds of 30 mph with our butts just skimming the ground. Cruising by a roadside restaurant, we stopped in for a very early lunch at what we thought was 11:30 as we were still on China time, but it was actually only 10:30 local time.

Having finished our pho, the proprietor invited us to join his table to taste some of the local specialties, a salad made from banana flowers, and steamed mussels which we washed down with rice wine. Usually made at home in large ceramic pots, ruos gao or rice wine, is about 40% alcohol. After downing 2 small glasses we indicated that we were full, but our host insisted. After several more drinks, naturally it was karaoke time.

Our host took the lead and sang with great passion, as his friend signed that he was singing out of love for Cher and I by covering his heart and pointing at the two us. We were then invited to sing, and not having the heart to refuse I sang an off-key rendition of Come as You Are, by Nirvana, followed by a spot on rendition of Baa Baa Black Sheep. Neither of these were my personal request. Then after being thoroughly warmed up, (a moment I’m sure our host had waited a very long time for), we sang a Vietnamese / English duet. I began to wonder what the lyrics were in Vietnamese, as I sang “skin to skin under the sheets with you.” Not put off by the lyrics, we finished our duet, and in the spirit of love our passionate host let me know that he loved me as well. Cher went next and sang a couple of moving songs in Chinese. I watched as our host repeatedly gave me a look that said, lucky you, and indeed he is correct.

More rice wine flew in our direction, until we had to pull ourselves away to get back on the road. We were assured that we could take a nap at their house, but we wanted to get to the next town before dark. Settling into our cockpits and feeling pleasantly buzzed, I was quite happy that we stopped for lunch and that we have 3 wheels.

We arrived in Tien Yen around 2pm and found a room. After our normal chores and washing up we went out for pho. At 1.50 USD per bowl it’s a great deal. A large bowl comes filled with noodles, tofu, shrimp, beef, pork, and sausage, although sometimes you may only get one type of meat. As always it was served with a basket of leafy greens, such as buttery lettuce, thai basil, mint and coriander and some small limes. After dinner, the owners daughter, no more than 12 of age, offered to show us around the town. Clustered with a variety of colorful row homes, and populated by some of the most friendly people, this quiet suburb was an extremely relaxing spot. Our new friend and guide, Sot, took us to a park by the river, accompanied by several of her friends.

Taking leave of Sot, she promised to come see us off in the morning. Though we had only known each other for such a short period of time, I couldn’t help feeling a bit emotional when she asked us again and again, when we would come back to Tien Yen. The Vietnamese are some the warmest, friendliest people that we’ve encountered in all of our travels to date.

Day 19

Half of today’s adventure was getting through immigration. Riding up to the border where vehicles pass, we were told it’s only for motorized vehicles, and that we would have to turn back and ascend a story and a half staircase packed with people carrying bundles of goods. Although I think we make quite a beautiful pair of engines, the guard at the border apparently did not think so.

Cher assured the guard that it was not possible for us to fold our trikes without unloading our panniers, and going by the stairs was out of question because of the heavy weight. “I will see what I can do.” was the guard’s reply after Cher negotiated with him. Soon 5 guards arrived, one of them exclaiming: “They’re not handicapped!” seeing both of us out of our seats. Apparently, the guard assumed that our reluctance in taking the stairs was caused by our “disability”. Nonetheless they assisted us in squeezing our trikes sideways, through a narrow gate marked “staff only”, with our panniers still attached. Passing through the gate we entered a pedestrian hallway. Women and men alike battering us with their enormous packages shoved to the front of the line, until I pushed my trike in their path and marked our territory.

We passed our document inspection and were forced to remove our bags and pass them through an x-ray machine. Knives, a bottle of compressed degreaser, white gas in fuel bottles, lighters, and a variety of foreign groceries in our bags didn’t even raise an eyebrow. As a matter of fact, they were too busy at checking out our strange transportation devices to notice what had passed on their screen. We reassembled and moved on to the Vietnamese side of immigration and passed through quickly. Not wanting to remove our panniers, we ignored the x-ray machine and rolled past. A guard stopped us, only to check our passports, and after giving Cher’s bag a light pat on the top, he motioned us to get out. We had officially made it to Vietnam!

Besides the usual whistling, barking, hellos, and hi’s that we got on both sides of the border, obvious differences became apparent between the Chinese and Vietnamese. Comparatively the Chinese are introverted conservatives and the Vietnamese gregarious revelers. Beer is sold at every 2 shops and music is blasting on the street corners. And of course, there are pho shops everywhere. Our no touch rule didn’t last ten seconds. Stopping for money, just as I left my seat someone slid in behind me. I bodily lifted him out of my seat, which far from insulting him only added to his amusement. Taking this as a cue when confronted by drivers slowing and yelling, I gave them my loudest American hammy hellllooo! and they continued on. More than anything it seems that a reaction is all that anyone wants and once satisfied they move on.

Needing Vietnamese Dong, we located an ATM but I was only able to take out 200,000 Dong, which equals about 10 US Dollars. We tried another ATM but once again I was limited to 500,000 Dong. Cher tried to get the rest of our RMB exchanged at a bank, and was directed by the bank teller to a street corner. There under an umbrella a lady ran an RMB to VND exchange business. Cher after some bargaining got an exceptionally competitive exchange rate, leaving us to wonder if we got scammed. But after counting the millions of Dongs we now possess, everything seemed to be fine. Indeed it was and we rolled into the countryside. Everything that we saw in southern China could not compare to the beauty of the countryside we now witnessed. On some of the best roads we’ve seen we pedaled off towards our next destination with a our wallets filled with Dong and bellies filled with pho, refreshed with new interest in the adventure the lay ahead.