29th December – Luang Prabang to Nong Khiaw

Got up at 6.30 and packed up the bike before having breakfast as soon as it started.  I was on the road by 7.30 and fairly quickly made it out of town and heading north.  The road was better than I had hoped and there was little traffic to speak of, other than a particularly obnoxious convoy of six huge Chinese trucks that blasted along the road pushing even Lao trucks off the road.  I made good progress and was in Nong Khiaw by 11.30.  On the way I came across what was essentially a village fete, albeit in an ethnic minority mountain village.  Many of the girls were dressed in traditional costume and some of them were playing what looked to be a very boring game but may have had some ritual significance that escaped me.  They were lined up in a row facing one another, with each pair in the row throwing a tennis ball to one another.  They didn’t even look as if they were enjoying it that much.  Other people were hurling rocks at a bamboo ‘wall’ with balloons tied to it. 

Nong Khiaw when I got there was very pretty, nestled beside the beautiful Nam Ou river with a big bridge crossing it.  Children swim in the river, women wash their clothes and everyone comes to wash their hair in it.  There were quite a few more guesthouses than I had thought but, not knowing this when I arrived, I took the first one I could find which happened to be at the other end of the bridge.  I was shown into a brick-built bungalow (most are bamboo) right beside the bridge which seemed fine at 100,000kip a night (around £8).  Later, as I sat on its balcony, I did feel a bit exposed being right by the bridge, almost as if I was maintaining a toll booth.  But it was fine.  I changed into shorts and walked back across the bridge into town where I had some delicious Pad Thai at a very laidback restaurant, Coco Home, run by a German chap called Nick (who I assumed was English, having no trace of an accent after spending 20 years in the UK) and his Thai wife.  Very helpful chap.  As the afternoon wore on I felt that this was somewhere I could easily stay for a few days so walked around most of the other guesthouses around town.  However I returned to my own and negotiated to stay for a further three nights in an even nicer one further away from the bridge but still overlooking the river. 

The view from my balcony in Nong Khiaw

Sleepy relaxed place.  The only worry is that I will run out of money and there are no ATM machines anywhere near.  Nick says he may be able to change some sterling so I may have to opt for that.

28th December – Luang Prabang

The past few days have been very calm and peaceful and a nice change from all the travelling.  Christmas Day was sunny but very cold all morning, warming up by noon.  I explored town and crossed a bamboo bridge that spans the river Nam Khan, one of the many tributaries of the Mekong.   It is this river that creates the peninsular on which the old part of Luang Prabang is built.  The bamboo bridge cost 5,000kip because it was privately made by an enterprising family who must be doing quite well as a result of their investment of time. 

Back in town I bought a map and took a tuk-tuk to Phosy (pronounced pussy) market in search of the foam inner tube filler that my friend Trevor Parsons has suggested in response to all the flats I’ve been having.   Doing my best to mime what I was looking for reminded me that this would make a good topic for the Christmas charades that I am missing back home.  No foam to be found however; a bit too cutting-edge for this place.  I guess it would put an awful lot of people out of business here.  But I did find a jacket to replace the one I lost.  Not quite as warm as my old one but leatherette and looks quite cool on a motorbike.  The focus of my day was lunch at the Apsara Hotel’s restaurant where I had an amazing French-inspired Christmas lunch for 25,000kip (about £20).  Very extravagant of me but it was all presented and served so beautifully and turned out to be one of the most delicious meals I can remember eating.  Several successful Skype calls in the evening, including one to my dear friend Dingle in Jamaica, made it a lovely day.

Merry Christmas (note the hammer and sickle)

On Boxing Day I took the bike out to see the Kuang Si waterfalls, about 30k west of LP.  It was a pleasant ride in sunshine and I was in no hurry.  Lots of little stalls outside the main entrance so I bought some rice cakes, three banana fritters and a plastic cup full of fresh papaya, mango and banana.  This was lunch.  The waterfalls are extraordinarily beautiful: tiers of aquamarine pools with occasional wide but short limestone drops into the next pool.  Really quite out of this world and unlike anything I have ever seen before. 

There were relatively few tourists and none were swimming.  The water was pretty cold so I decided not to be the centre of attention and go in, but I know that if Harriet had been here she would certainly have gone in (she’s so much hardier than me).  The falls are set within a tropical rain forest park so I took a trail up through some dense jungle and then returned to sit by one of the pools, read my book and nibble at my lunch.  In the evening had a very pleasant meal and conversation with a retired American teacher, Joel, with whom we talked largely about American politics.

Yesterday I moved hotels to a rather more upmarket one on the other side of the Nam Khan river.  Beautiful new place owned by a Lao chap committed to using only Lao products.  2% of the revenues go towards supporting rural schools.  Unfortunately, due to New Year, they are fully booked up after my two days here but it would have been an ideal place to stop a while longer and actually get down to some writing.   Supper in the nice open air restaurant next door to my hotel which overlooks the river.  Each of the young staff came up to me in turn to practise their English.  Today I walked back into town, over the bamboo bridge, to withdraw some more money before my trip into the more remote north tomorrow.  When I got back I took the bike to a local mechanic to have an oil change.  He was Vietnamese and most interested in where I had been.  While waiting I bought a few things for lunch from one of the stalls, including some pork scratchings, as good as any you’d get in an English pub. 

Tomorrow I’ll set off early.  I’m just hoping I’ll find somewhere to stay in mountains.

24th December – Luang Prabang, Laos

Well it certainly doesn’t feel like Christmas here.  In LP there is almost no hint of it at all, not even a plastic Christmas tree.  So I don’t know what tomorrow will be like, maybe just like any other day.  The temperature here varies a lot.  I went out enthusiastically this morning in my shorts imagining the cloud would burn off and we’d have another scorcher.  But no, it stayed cloudy all day with a cool wind coming down the Mekong.  I’d been chatting at breakfast to this sweet middle-aged gay couple called David and David (must be confusing for their friends).  They told me where I could get a boat ride to a cave stuffed with statues of Buddha.  I feel I have already seen enough Buddhas to last a lifetime but I fancied a boat ride on the great river.  When I got to the riverbank there was a nice Singaporean man and his wife and daughter desperately looking for two more people to make up five so that we could rent a boat more cheaply.  Being on my own I wasn’t much good to him but along came three young Dutch people who made our party 7.  We spent two hours getting there and an hour getting back. 

Going upstream against the current the wind was really quite cold for all of us, including the chap steering the boat.  The cave was none too exciting we all agreed but it was pleasant to be on the river.  In celebration of Christmas I have bought myself a bottle of Australian Pinot Noir for the very reasonable price of 90,000kip (about £7) so I can’t argue with that.  I’m spending this evening reading and listening to Verdi (through my wonderful tiny portable speaker) in my cosy hotel room.  I plan to treat myself to a fancy lunch in one of the more up-market restaurants tomorrow. 

23rd December – Luang Prabang

I left my Vientiane hotel at 7.30 yesterday but it took a long time getting out of the dusty busy suburbs during rush hour.  Eventually the traffic reduced but the road was terrible.  Every couple of hundred yards there was a 50 to 100 yard patch of pot-holed rubble to drive through.  One could only brake and go through this slowly, so no possibility of getting up to speed.  Also exhausting having to hold the handle bars firmly through all the rough patches and still avoid pot-holes, dogs, pigs, cows, goats, as well as other traffic overtaking in both directions, oblivious the presence of motorcycles.  Laotian drivers are appalling.  The road went on like this all morning.  At 9.45 I felt another puncture (5^th) in the back tyre so had to push the bike all the way back to the previous village; about a kilometre.  In the process the padded jacket I’d been wearing and which I had taken off, fell off the bike. I only realised this when I got to the mechanic but by the time I got back it had gone.  Fortunately it was warm but I was heading for the mountains.  A new inner tube was put on and I was away by around 10.30 (4,000kip – about £3.30?).  The lorries were taking no prisoners as they thundered through the rough patches creating huge clouds of dust for me to drive through.  My arms and shoulders were aching again and I was absolutely covered in filth.  I stopped for some not-so-nice pho at around 12.30, shortly before getting to Vang Vieng amidst the pretty karst mountains.  I didn’t think much of Vang Vieng as I drove through; the road was extremely dusty at that point and I just wanted to keep on going.  Happily after a bit the road improved markedly and I was able to pick up speed.  But then at about 3pm, within about 10k of Kasi where I was hoping to spend the night, I had yet another puncture (6^th) in the back tyre.  This time I had to push it back to the last village through the hot afternoon sun and this was more like 2 kilometres.  I was hot, sweaty and dirty.  The mechanic mended the puncture using a different method – using a clamp and something he lit which created lots of smoke.  I imagine it was melting the patch onto the inner tube.  I got to Kasi at around 4 absolutely filthy and searched for a guesthouse  Fortunately there was one on the other end of the village, the Somchit Guesthouse, run by a no-nonsense woman who wanted my 10,000kip (£8) up front.  Perfectly all right basic room with en suite bathroom.  I was even able to take a very cool shower which was a relief.  Supper was beneath the guesthouse in the roadside café and there to my astonishment was an array of Europeans, all cyclists though not travelling together – Swiss, German, Austrian and even a chap from Luxembourg.  I sat with a couple of 40-something year old English women from York who were making their way down from Luang Prabang to somewhere in Thailand.  Not terrible exciting conversationalists but I was glad of the company after a rather gruelling day.  Somehow we had all spontaneously found this place. 

Somchit Guesthouse Cafe (from the guesthouse)

Today was a surprisingly tough day too, albeit a much more beautiful journey than yesterday.  From Kasi to Luang Prabang it is 100 miles (160k) of mountain passes, hairpin turns and a thousand gear changes.  From the moment I left Kasi at around 8.15, thinking I would have a more leisurely ride after my 213k yesterday, the scenery was stunning – lots of strikingly steep mountains (karsts) looming out of the mist and set amidst beautiful agricultural land dotted with pretty villages.  Poor villages though.  It was sobering to see so many children walking on the road, some no more than about eight, lugging plastic oil tanks full of water up to their villages.

It was a cool misty start and I put on extra layers, knowing I’d be going higher and having lost my padded jacket yesterday.  And higher I did go, making my way round one mountainside after another; no bridges or tunnels.  After about two hours I reached a beautiful lookout café surrounded by the most spectacular views, real spine-tingling stuff.  I met a lovely Australian couple there from Adelaide, also cyclists (amazingly they’d spent 11 weeks travelling from Phnom Penh and were finishing in a few days in LP.  Their names were Erin and Peter; they were so friendly and open and they kindly offered to take my picture.  I had breakfast there – an entire pineapple and a coffee.  

After that the road went higher still until I was in icy cloud.  This went on for several kilometres until I reached the zenith of the first set of mountains at Phu Khoun which is where the turn off to Phonsavan is.  At this point (around 11.30) I thought I was almost home and dry and would be heading down the mountain to LP.  But not a bit of it.  The road stayed in cloud for a long time and I got progressively colder.  It eventually did go down for a bit before rising again to the second range of mountains which had to be climbed.  Somehow it all took ages – god knows how the cyclists manage all these hills, they go on forever.  Around 2.00 I pulled over to rest and bought some banana chips.  Then it was more bends and more hills, and more potholes and lorries to be avoided.  I was getting very tired and once again my arms and shoulders were aching, not to mention feeling saddle sore.  Eventually the road descended to the point where I could feel warmer air but there was still 50k to go.  I was exhausted and was thinking twice about going back all this way to take the road to Phonsavan. 

Then with only 15k to go I had another puncture, my 7^th and the 6^th in the back tyre.  This time I had just passed through a small village so I knew which way to push the bike.  Before long a rather grumpy and reluctant man (from one of the mountain tribes) emerged from his shack in response to the calls from his children.  He got to work on it and I managed to communicate that I was getting a lot of flats from the back tyre.  So he got a torn inner tube from another job, sliced it down the middle, and created a few pieces of lining to go inside the tyre so as to protect the inner tube.  Nice of him to do this though it remains to be seen whether it works.  Once again he used the smoke and melt system of repairing the puncture but was only going to charge me 10,000 kip which is less than a quid so I gave him 20k (I would have given him more but didn’t want to embarrass him). 

 

I got into LP around 4pm and was immediately struck by how many Europeans there are here.  Architecturally it’s certainly very charming with streets of old colonial houses running parallel to the Mekong, but it does seem to be teeming with tour operators (elephant rides, waterfalls etc), souvenir shops, guesthouses and restaurants.  Not quite what I had imagined somehow.  I’ve noticed that I tend to find it harder finding anyone to talk to when there are lots of Westerners about.  Where we are in a clear minority like last night it’s much easier to break the ice.  I’m staying at the Hotel au Fils du Mekong which lives up to its name by being an old French built villa across the road from the river.  After a very welcome shower I walked about town and on the way back had a nice massage followed by dinner at Café Toui nearby which offered a set menu of a variety of Lao food.  I was surprised to be their only customer because there was a lovely look to the restaurant, and a charmingly modest owner/manager.  The food was absolutely delicious so I told the manager I would tell all the tourists about his restaurant tomorrow.

On the way to Luang Prabang

20th December – Pakxan to Vientiane (aka Viang Chan), the capital of Laos

Despite doing 190k yesterday it was a much easier ride (hardly any wind, good road, less traffic).   Mood decidedly brighter, felt refreshed and less exhausted by the journey. 

Got to Pakxan by 2.30 and met a nice American guy from Oregan, about my age, on the threshold of the Pakxan Hotel.  He and his beautiful Thai wife were not stopping but he told me they live on a farm in northern Thailand and, from the sound of it, live a pretty idyllic life.  The hotel was basic, functional but cheap.  I went for a walk around town, such as it is, and had a Beerlao at a bar on the other side of the river.  Had dinner in the hotel’s restaurant since there didn’t seem to be much else around.  The impressive-looking menu included:

Duck cooked as dog meat

Boiled beef muscle

Pig’s trotter cooked as a false dog meat dish

Steamed turtle with bananas

Pork braised as the canned one

Ear and mouth salad

Cattle stomach salad

Pork ear and mouth

Beef soup with bitter insides

Mixed fried internal organs of a chicken

Snake head fried and dipped in tomato sauce

Steamed iguana

Stir fried frogs

Steamed porcupine

And my personal favourite, Pork entrails, half cooked

Mmm, mmm.  I wonder if someone was having them on.  When I came to order I was told that everything on the menu I was pointing at was not available so it seemed to rather obviate the point of having a menu.  Anyway I ended up with chicken and rice, which probably should have been called ‘rice with bones of chicken’ for all the meat that was present.  Tasted pretty good though. 

Seeing as no breakfast was included in this very basic hotel I settled this morning for a very thick strong black tepid sweet coffee (not quite what I had in mind) before setting off at about 7.45.  Despite having put on several more layers still had to stop periodically to warm myself in the sun.  Again good driving conditions.  I stopped at a village and bought some delicious banana fritters from a very friendly warm woman who chatted away at me, despite me making it as clear as I could that I wasn’t understanding a word.  Weirdly pleasant though. 

My banana fritter lady

I got to Vientiane by 11.30 (150k) so that was pretty good going.  Vientiane is very grand compared with everything I’ve seen in Laos so far.  Very much a big city feel with lots of charming faded French villas between the tall office buildings.  Checked into the hotel I’d booked over the internet back in Thakek.  It’s great: very central, well-equipped, modern but pleasant and well laid out.  Safety deposit box in the room so don’t have to worry about leaving valuables.  Always good to have that shower after a ride on these dusty roads.  Went out into town and found the market.  Then on to two of the most important Wats in Laos: Si Saket which contains a huge number of Buddha figures set into the walls as well as larger statues around the pretty courtyard surrounding the main temple.  Virtually across the road I visited Haw Pha Kaew which was the royal temple and is now the national museum of religious art.  More Buddha statues everywhere, some really quite beautiful. 

Had dinner in a French restaurant nearby with the memorable name of That Dam Restaurant (That meaning a stupa or religious monument, Dam meaning black – the restaurant is right next to the very famous Black Stupa).  Anyway, I couldn’t resist and had a very good meal there – green garden salad, Mekong river fish steak with tamarind sauce washed down with a ½ litre carafe of (not bad) house wine.  All this for about £9.  Extravagant maybe, but nice for a change.

18th December – Thakek, Laos

Slept well, right through from 10 to 8, so felt quite refreshed.  But somehow I didn’t feel like getting up and facing another day.  A bit travel weary perhaps, a bit low in spirits.  After breakfast I discovered that my bike had been moved during the night and the lock was rammed up underneath the chassis.  Also the back tire was flat again (that’s puncture number 4 and the third for the back wheel).  Considering I only had a new inner tube put on yesterday this was rather worrying.  Fortunately the old chap I took it to round the corner was able to simply repair the puncture without having to replace the inner tube.  After this I walked around town (a beautiful warm sunny day) and eventually walked into the local Buddhist temple.  Here I met several young monks, almost all teenagers though one was only 10.  One of them was able to speak a bit of English so chatted away with me as we walked around the main temple.  They all seemed to be into football in a big way and kept asking me if I knew particular players, sadly none of which I did.  I showed them the pictures of the family which they were fascinated by.  

Had a banana milkshake on the riverside overlooking Thailand on the other bank.  The Mekong is a huge river at this point.  Still feeling rather low in spirits but can’t really explain this sudden dip.   At about 3.30 went for a Lao massage in a house by the river.  Looked like a legitimate place amidst all the restaurants. 

Good massage actually (at 50,000kip for an hour – about £4), more gentle than the rather punishing one I’d had in Saigon, though the ambience was less conducive to complete relaxation than I might have wished.  There was a television on and then a baby appeared, much to the amusement of the other masseurs.  Actually I felt in rather better mood when I emerged.  Maybe simple human touch has a therapeutic effect by counteracting loneliness at some primitive level. 

Went back to hotel for a shower (oil from the massage in what’s left of my hair), then watched the sun going down over the Mekong as I drank a BeerLao and watched a couple of women using one-woman Chinese fishing nets (without much success from what I could see).  Tomorrow I hope to get to Pakxan (193k) and the next day the capital Viang Chan (Vientiane – 147k).

15th December – Paxse, Laos

It was a great relief to get across the Laos border yesterday, WITH my motorbike.  The border was quite a long ordeal with lots of forms to fill out and small fees for this and that, most of which I didn’t understand.  The bureaucracy of developing countries.  After a long rigmarole with the Vietnamese authorities who said that Laos would not let my bike through, they then allowed me to ride my bike the kilometre of no-man’s land (which of course belonging to nobody is just a pot-holed dirt track, whereas there are roads on either side).  The Laotians frowned at first but I kept smiling deferentially and eventually they told me that I needed papers of transit for the bike from the Vietnamese side.  So back I trundled through the dust, avoiding huge logging trucks that were trying to get through, and eventually got the grumpy Vietnamese lot to give me the form I needed (for another small fee).  Back I went to the Laotian side where they finally issued me with a 30 day visa. I still had to get it stamped by about five people and get it checked at two further checkpoints but I was through!  I was immediately struck with what a much poorer country Laos is compared with Vietnam.  People mostly live in wooden shacks on stilts with walls made of woven bamboo.   Arrived in Attapeu about 4, pretty shattered.

Today started well, though having gone to bed at 10, I was surprised how hard it was to wake up at 6.45.  Was on the road by 8.10 and made good progress on excellent road, thinking I was taking the southern route to Champasak but after 20k or so found I was on the northern Pakxe road.  No matter, I was not turning back.  The road continued to be smooth and free of potholes and I was averaging about 60kph when I saw a left had turn to Pakxe.  I consulted the map and this indeed was the turn off, only there was clearly some road building going on because it was dirt, potholed and dusty.  I assumed that this would stop after a kilometre but it continued for 50k a least, until I got to Paksong.  Very rough indeed and for most of the 50k I was going about 15 to 20 kph.  Beautiful mountains but I was having to concentrate so hard to avoid pot holes, or to brake as I went through them, that I couldn’t take in too much.  I did stop by a pretty spectacular waterfall that I later discovered on the map.  At one point I was trying to negotiate a huge very muddy bit.  I didn’t know how deep the mud went so was trying to find a way round it but in doing so the bike went over and I got a shoe covered in mud; happily the bike fell onto dry mud.  The bike with all my stuff was very heavy to right but having done so I still had to take the plunge and drive straight into the mud bath.  I was worried I would slip in it and everything would fall into deep very wet mud.  It was weirdly nerve-racking.  Fortunately I stayed on and kept going.   

The track began to improve as I approached Paksong but then there was a weird sound, the engine revved and I had lost power.  I stopped the bike and saw that the chain had come off; I assumed it had broken given what I had just put it through.  There were no houses about and precious little traffic.  Before long however a motorbike with two women and a little girl came into view from where I’d just come.  I opened my arms and pointed at the bike, whereupon they stopped, the older woman had a look at the bike, crouched down and promptly put the chain back on the bike.  I felt such an idiot.  She then proceeded to tighten a nut that controls the chain tension since it was still very floppy.  And then shook her head.  A few moments later a man stopped his van and fortunately  spoke a smattering of English.  He suggested I try the bike and see if it would get to Paksong where I would find a mechanic. The women and the girl and the man then followed me for another two kilometres into the edge of Paksong where the chain came off again.  This time I was able to put it back on, a greasy business, and get across the street to a mechanic.  His wife was hovering around with her daughter and came to look at the bike.  She immediately noticed that the front tire was also flat which I hadn’t been aware of.  So in addition to the chain being shortened and reset, a new front inner tube was installed.  The mechanic checked everything over and gave me a lot of confidence that he’d done a thorough job.  I was there for about 45 minutes and it only cost me 60,000kip which is about £5. 

From Paksong the road improved considerably, quickly becoming a tarmac again and a very smooth road at that.  I fairly sped along until I reached Pakxe at about 3.30.  Found an ATM that worked which was a relief (I’d tried others that hadn’t) and then came across a completely over-the-top looking hotel called the Champasak Palace which is very much built in traditional Laotian style.  It was actually built in 1969 to be a palace for the very last king of Laos who fled to France in 1975.  So I'm staying there tonight for the princely sum of about £18.  I arrived truly filthy and dusty and had to apologise to the gracious and friendly staff.  Having checked in I handed over all the laundry I could find that needs doing and they promised it would be returned within two hours which indeed it was.  Meanwhile I went out for a walk around Pakxe.  It turned out that the hotel is very much in the centre.  I stopped in a café almost across the road and was surprised to see several westerners sitting there.  There was a woman on her own whom I spontaneously began talking to.  She turned out to be Sophie Rodriguez from France, of Portuguese parents and delightful.  She was travelling alone and by bus.  Aged 31 she was in insurance back in France but, finding it boring, was looking to change careers so was planning to go to southern India to learn massage (presumably Ayervedic methods from what she was saying).  Anyway we had a lovely chat.  I may have seemed a bit full on because it was the first conversation I have had with anyone for several days I realised.  After a very good (almost Western) HOT coffee, we walked further into town where she was meeting friends.  We then said goodbye and I continued to a bookshop where I bought a decent map of Laos.  The one I’d bought in Bristol appears to be Russian and none of the names conform to what is on the ground. 

I walked further along the waterfront (to the Mekong) and was impressed with what a pleasant town this is.  From the apparent poverty of the country, here were cafés and shops which didn’t look so impoverished.  Monks wandering around everywhere of course, as there were in Attapeu last night.  Went back to the hotel where I picked up my laundry, had a shower and went to the top of the palace to admire the amazing view and watch the sun go down.  Then I was off to the restaurant that Sophie recommended and had a delicious supper of baked fish (from the Mekong) and a noodle salad which had vegetables and peanuts in it (probably a Thai dish).  Another nice chat for quite a while after the meal with a German woman.  She was more my age, a paediatrician and has two grown up daughters.  Quite a day. 

Rules of the Road

(1) anyone in front of you can do what the hell they like, it’s your job not to hit them (one of the implications of this is that people come shooting out from the side, turning right onto the street you are driving on without even looking because immediately the only person who can hit them, you, is behind them and therefore carries the responsibility.

(2) anything bigger than you has the right of way, essentially forcing you off the road if you are in their way.  This is particularly alarming when you see ahead one lorry is overtaking another and they are both coming at you very fast. 

Signage is all but nonexistent.  Less dependence on traffic lights.  In Da Lat, which is a bit smaller than Bristol, there are no traffic lights at all.  Apparently, because the town is hilly and most people ride bikes of one form or another, traffic lights were considered too difficult.  (Dalat was also one of the few towns that both sides agreed not to damage in the American war).  Lots of horn use, especially obnoxiously loud lorry horns.  But generally less dependence on the horn than India. 

The good news is that, lorries notwithstanding, the Vietnamese do not drive aggressively.  The driving here is a lot like walking in a crowd: you unconsciously assess and respond to other people's slightest movements.  I find it hard to read so roundabouts and turning left are both a bit of a nightmare. 

All the women wear scarves covering their faces which I took to be protection against the considerable pollution.  But I rather think it is to keep their faces white, something that is considered more attractive.  One hotel I stayed in even had soap that would whiten your face.  If only pink was considered attactive I would go down a treat.

It must be very special...

12th December - Kon Tum

Have had a relaxing day recovering from two long days on the bike.  Bad case of chauffeur's arse, all that bouncing around, and aching arms and shoulders from holding the handle bar for hours and hours.  Yesterday's ride was particularly long and tough.  I had my first puncture which was pretty scary at the time but quickly fixed.  It was a relief to get to Kon Tum which is a small sleepy town on a plateau in the mountains.  There are a number local ethnic minority 'tribes', as they are described, one of which, the Bahnars more or less coexist within Kon Tum itself.  So I walked to see this village on the edge of town.  Lots of stares, smiles and giggly hellos from the children.  The only unfriendly looks were from the dogs who clearly don't see many people looking like me; they fairly snarled at me so am glad I took those rabies innoculations. 

Like the Maori people in New Zealand, the Bahnars have their own meeting house called a Rong.  Here's a photo of the one I saw today; it's quite an impressive structure.

Buon Ma Tuot from hotel

10th December (Saturday) to Buon Ma Tuot (209km)

The sun was shining when I woke which was a relief after all the rain yesterday.  It restored my mood no end which, maybe because of the rain, had been slightly flagging.  Ridiculously, given the weather back home.  Anyway, was on the bike by 7.45 and heading out of Da Lat, but it took an age to find the right road.  Kept asking people, but they and I can only interpret one another's hand gestures, so it can be tricky.  The road signage in Vietnam is pitiful; it’s seemingly non-existent in cities and towns.  Consequently much of my day is spent asking people “Oh dow.. Linh Ban" or some other place. 


Eventually found highway 27 but it turned out to be narrow and windy with many lumps and bumps.  There were a couple of sections, both nearly 10km long, that were in terrible shape similar to some of the worst roads in India.  This meant going at about 10kph and concentrating hard to avoid deep pot holes that can occur anywhere, even on apparently good roads (presumably due to the monsoon rains).  But the beautiful countryside up into the mountains was worth it.  Loads of houses seemed to be drying, on huge sheets right up to the road, something which from a distance look like olives or grapes (which they are not).  They seem to turn from almost a yellow colour to black.  You see people raking them to turn them over.  In other places people leave to dry what appear to be large patches of corn kernels laid straight on the road, forcing people to drive around them. 

Could this be Paradise?

I drove though some pretty villages today, a few inhabited by some of the ethnic minority or mountain people who largely live in wooden houses on stilts.  Stopped for lunch in a small hamlet and was asked to sit down, whereupon the parents and daughter sat with me at my table (there were no other customers) and watched me eat.  They were very sweet really and were keen for me to take their photographs so they could see themselves on the camera.   Once again my photos of the family are a great asset. 

I’d thought of staying at Lien Son which is on Ho Lak lake so as not to have too long a journey but, though it hadn’t rained, it was incredibly windy so Ho Lak was not looking its best.  I decided to press on to Buon Ma Thuot (pronounced ‘bon may tote’). I crossed the valley at one side of Ho Lak on a causeway within acres and acres of rice paddies, the wind all the while threatening to blow me off the road and into the water. 

Got into Buon Ma Thuot around 3.45 and pretty tired but this time I had not booked anything so drove right into the middle of the city, around the market, realising that I don’t even know the Viet word for hotel.  The people I tried to ask looked perplexed.  I am hopeless.  Drove around the city for nearly half an hour wondering what my next step would be when I spotted something that looked like a hotel.  Sure enough, the Mai Anh is where I have checked into.  It’s really pretty basic but the price is right: about £6.50 and that includes (quite fast free) wireless internet.  What a weird world we live in.  Fortunately, right across the road from the hotel is a small shopping centre where I bought myself a beer, some peanuts and raisins and also a lightweight black jacket that I think will do fine.  And I think makes me look younger, that's the main thing.  Anyway, in the shopping centre, in this fairly obscure part of town, everyone stared and stared at me, the children wide eyed and open mouthed.  Lots of giggles from the shop assistants too.  This place would be no good at all if you were paranoid.  But if you smile here you are more than rewarded.  Dinner across the main road was basic local food but good grub.  I took what was on offer: a large bowl of rice with some sliced roast pork on a bed of mint, with a couple of fairly spicy dipping sauces.  It filled me.  That with a decent lager cost 58,000 dong, about £1.80.  I've always liked a bargain.

Change of plan?

Just heard that Laos are refusing to allow foreigners like me into their country riding motobikes with Vietnamese plates.  That messes things up.  I will try it on at the border and see if a bribe helps.  If not, I will have to think again.  Maybe head up further north in the mountains then back to the coast to Hoi An.  Had hoped to spend Christmas in Luang Prabang.

hills on the way to Dalat

8th December – Phan Thiet to Dalat

Had to be woken by alarm at 7, I was sleeping so soundly.  Had quick breakfast and checked out.  Was on the road by 8, anxious to get going because I wondered how long it would take to do the 180km through the mountains to Dalat.  Got hopelessly lost in Phan Thiet trying to find Highway 28 but kept asking other motorcyclists at traffic lights.  I seemed to get contradictory advice.  Once I was finally on the right road it turned out to be lovely, flat at first though going through some pretty villages and then as I started up the foothills there seemed to be herds of cows or goats (a solitary pig at one point) on the road every half kilometre.  Fortunately a jeep full of soldiers careered past me and I was able to follow in its wake, the driver simply honking his horn and scattering animals everywhere.  No fatalities that I could see but not the way we do things in Blighty.  Soon, there were no more herds, soldiers, villages or even much traffic.  It was beautifully serene with palms and bamboos giving way to evergreens as I went higher.  Huge valleys of dense tropical forest.  You can see how impossible it would have been for the Americans to have fought in terrain like this.   I was getting progressively colder as I went higher so put on the long sleeve tee-shirt I’d brought in case the sun got too strong.  Far from it.  It was cloudy and getting quite chilly.   I got to De Linh by 11.30 without a proper stop so had made good time; only about 50km to go.  There I stopped for an iced coffee which took an age to filter but I needed the break.  As I went higher still I got even colder despite the extra tee-shirt and it was even spitting with rain.  By the time I came down into Dalat my teeth were chattering.  Once again it took an age to find the hotel on the edge of town I booked a couple of days ago.  Fortunately I had a google maps print-out so using that eventually found it.  The YK Home Villa is a two-star place run by a local family.  Only the daughter speaks English but the parents do their best with sign language.   After changing out of my now filthy clothes I walked down into town. Dalat is as hilly as Bristol albeit shaped more like a bowl, with a lake and the market in its centre and bottom.  Because of its constant spring like weather (it bean raining as soon as I left the hotel so bought myself a plastic poncho) Dalat is big draw for Vietnamese honeymooners. I suppose it’s just the reverse of our tendency to go somewhere warm.  It’s also famous for its bountiful fruit harvest and everywhere around town you find people selling soft fruits on the street: strawberries, mulberries, aloes, and many things I don’t recognise.  In the market you see these same fruits dried.  I tried some and they were delicious so bought a few to send home to the family.  In an attempt to keep out of the rain I went into an enormous church on the edge of town.  It may be a cathedral – classical gothic nave, presumably built by the French.  This was around 5.30 and I realised that people were pouring in around me because a service was just starting.  Indeed when I entered I saw that this huge church was packed with people and that more people were arriving all the time.  Quite interesting for a while to hear a service being conducted in Vietnamese.  The only word I recognised with Amen.  Had supper in a place called Long Hoa and, having skipped lunch, indulged myself by ordering the fish hotpot (and noodles) which turned out to be completely delicious.  Had  a chat with a nice young couple from Hexham near Newcastle who are travelling for ten months in SE Asia and S America.  Nice to have a chat in English I realised.  Still pouring with rain when I came out so was drenched by the time I had climbed back up to the hotel.

My beach resort in Mue Ne, ready for Christmas - it's a tough life.

Phan Thiet City harbour

Fully loaded

5th December – Vung Tau to Phan Thiet

It turned out that there were other people staying in this huge hotel on the beach for there they were at breakfast.  Sweet black, black tepid coffee.  Pretty undrinkable.  If it weren’t for the delicious iced coffees I might have got over my caffeine addiction here.  Set off by 8.00, having spent a long time binding my pack onto the motorbike so that it doesn’t slip off as yesterday.  I also went through everything overnight, tried to minimise what I am carrying and figure out a better arrangement of how to access things en route.  I seem to have brought enough medical supplies to equip a hospital.  I noted that neither Kevin nor Dave were even bothering with anti-malarials.  I was in Ba Ria within half an hour and La Gi by 11.00.  Much more confident on the bike, but still can’t seem to get it into neutral when I want to.  Already very fond of it!  The engine has a satisfyingly throaty growl without being obnoxious, and it’s got power when I need it.  I stopped in a roadside café again in Tan Nghia, heading up to Highway 1.  Every bowl of Pho is different; this one was even more delicious than yesterday’s, being a bit more spicy.  It was good to get off the bike and give my shoulders a rest.  The concentration is what’s really tiring.  But I enjoyed the biking today; this is what I had come for and I saw some pretty houses and temples along the way.  I got to Phan Thiet City by 1.30 and stopped to take a couple of pictures of the pretty river leading out of town into the ocean.  I was at the Beach Resort in Mue Ne by 2.00; that’s 150k over quite good roads, I won’t be able to go this sort of seed (around 30kph I reckon) as I go up into the mountains and further north. 

The Beach Resort is much as it looked like when I booked it on the net in Saigon.  A paradise if you were with your lover.  Having got extraordinarily filthy on the road I was desperate for a shower.  After that I walked onto the beach and had a swim in the pool.  No one else using it; in fact, hardly anyone around but maybe they are out for the day.  I then walked on the main road to see what the local shops had to offer.  Sadly, very beach resort sort of fare: mostly tat, restaurants and massage parlours.  Most of the signs are in Russian as well as Viet and English, which is interesting. 

My lovely roadside cafe family

Leaving Saigon

First day of my motorbike trip.  Arrived in Saigon on Monday.  It is now 6 days later...

4^th December 2011 – Sunday

Around 7.45 this morning I took a taxi up to Kevin who lives on the northern outskirts of Saigon and sells motorbikes to English-speaking foreigners; a real grease monkey, he loves motorbikes and cars.  I watched him and a very nice American photographer called Dave (who is doing a similar trip) eat their breakfast, after which we went back to Kevin’s workshop where he gave me a lesson or two on the streets outside.  Foot gears, so not like my automatic in Bristol, much trickier.  Lots of false starts which is no fun at all the in traffic here but I got the general hang of it.  Bought some waterproofs for myself and a new phone for Dave who insisted on photographing me with plastic goofy teeth (his first victim on his trip).  Then at about 11.15 I said goodbye and set off with all my stuff (too much stuff actually) in my newly acquired backpack.  The roads are not as filthy as India in the sense that Vietnamese use rubbish bins and have by and large grasped that idea.  But the pollution from all the bikes and trucks is pretty bad, at least in the city.  It got better the further I got from Saigon. 

After about an hour and a bit I stopped for lunch in a roadside café whereupon the entire family and neighbours came to see this foreigner eating lunch!  They even sat at my table with me, laughing and chatting away.  Huge delicious bowl of pho (soup with meat and veg) even better than the pho I’d had in Saigon; that and a coke only cost 40,000dong (just over a quid!).  It was a great idea bringing those photos of Hat and the kids because this family LOVED seeing them.  Everyone seemed to stare at them for hours saying how beautiful the girls were etc.  Anyway I took their photo which they were delighted with and the dad helped me repack my backpacks on my bike since they were tending to slide off.  Despite what Kevin said I think I might get someone to weld a proper rack on the back to make life easier for myself.  By 2.15 I was in Vung Tau where I’d booked a hotel room.  That’s 100k and though not far, I was ready to get off the bike.  Helmet is a bit tight so will see about replacing it though I doubt they make them big enough for my fat head in this country.  Getting the hang of the bike already and the roads, though I guess this will get easier as the days wear on.  Tomorrow my ride is a bit over 150k to Phan Thiet (well, Mue Ne in fact) but I’ll have the whole day and have booked three nights in a beach resort (seeing as I will be heading into the hills for a long time thereafter).  This hotel room in Vung Tau is pretty amazing for the price.  I had booked what they call a Standard Twin (the cheapest on the website) but was upgraded on arrival to a deluxe.  All this including internet and breakfast for about £14.  The woes of the oncology centre and St P’s are already a million miles from my thoughts these days.  It’s great not having to think about anyone but myself and tackling the next challenge.  Walked down to the beach which was much more crowded than when I'd come here by hydrofoil during the week.  For the first time I sensed someone trying to scam me.  A couple of guys in their late 30s early 40s came and sat down next to me trying to make conversation and invite me to have a few beers with them.  They were quite insistent but I held my ground feeling something was not genuine about them.  Important to trust one’s feelings about these things while remaining polite. 

Saigon woman