Last entry before going stateside

  Didn’t do much today, packed, walked aways to mail some postcards and generally hung out in the hood taking in the scene.  Had breakfast at the cafe by having the street side restaurant diagonally across the intersection bring me a bowl of Pho.  Dan, Faye, Peter and Julio drifted in for coffee as I chopsticked and spooned my way through my rice noodles, beef and spinach stalks. For lunch, I had it in the go from a sidewalk lady scrambling eggs and assortment of meats, stuffing the concoction into a small baguette with hot sausage.  Delicious and all for a buck fifty.  Two naps followed by dinner across town with Peter Doan and one of his site managers.  Another table full of exotic foods.  Peter has seen my work and deals with some wealthy clients who may want my work.  Both of us agreed that the wealthy are demanding and generally a pain in the backside. We will see what comes of it.
     Now, I am off to the airport at 8:30 with my mountain of gear.  Vietnam far surpassed my expectations.  I could have stayed but my other life beckons. But, not for long, other trips are on the horizon.

Re-entry a day away

  After my morning coffee at the corner cafe with Peter, Dan and Faye, I headed off on Hai’s racing machine hoping to ride to the Anthology museum. With my iPhone badly malfunctioning after an involuntary upgrade by Apple, a bike ill suited for anything but racing and a sore right foot, I turned
back and took a Grab taxi instead.  I had to get other people to order me the taxi both coming and going.  My iPhone is just a screwed up mess.....thank you Apple.
     The museum was a display of all the ethnic groups through out Vietnam, their customs, traditional dress and life styles. It was quite interesting to see how diverse Vietnam is. Without a properly functioning iPhone, it was a challenge getting home. After lunch at a neighborhood open restaurant, Dan and I bicycled over to the French Quarter using the hotel loaners. Stopped for lemonade once in the quarter and returned home in the rush hour traffic. The humidity left me a sopping sweaty mess.
      At 6:30, Peter who lives permanently a few buildings down from the cafe invited six of us for dinner.  Great Mexican food (Peter being half Mexican having grown up in California), wine, sangria and Pepperidge farm cookies for dessert. Exactly my age, Peter had a line up of 60’s through 80’s music. It was a lot of fun, verging on being raucous at times.
    Tomorrow I pack my gear for my departure on the 16th.

Hobbling around on an injured foot

    Thank the lord I wasn’t injured while on the road to Saigon.  Dan, Faye and I hung out at the neighborhood coffee cafe and later drifted down the road to find a shop where I could buy something classically Vietnamese.  Walking was a struggle but doable.  Not much to do other than relax.  After an afternoon nap, Hai and I rendezvoused for dinner at one of his favorite out door restaurants. From the hotel and I carefully pedaled his bike as he ran in front of me.  This guy is slight in size but in incredible shape with steel bands for arms and legs. I have never seen a sixty year old as in good shape as this man.  Four other cycling buddies joined us.  Out came the pitchers of beer (which is impossible to get drunk on) and plate upon plate of food.  One dish was beef leg tendon, rubbery but good. We toasted at least twenty times over the cacophony of noise from other Friday night diners.  Low tables and chairs and no westerners to be seen.  We talked about cycling, particularly, the Hanoi to Saigon trip that Hai and two others with take starting early tomorrow morning.  No touring bikes, just their racing machines with an absolute minimum amount of gear stored in a pannier extending out from the seat post.  These guys are tough.
   Hai and I seriously discussed riding from Hanoi to London, perhaps via Singapore. Sounds crazy but I have read about cyclists making this trip.  Check out the site ‘Long Distance Cyclists’.  I am just scratching the surface compared to some of these guys who ride around the world.  This trip would be like no other.  I will be picking up some maps and reading more about how others have done it. The trick is to navigate around the Muslim countries which are in conflict.
       For tomorrow I will see if I can gingerly ride the bike Hai loaned me.

Hanging out in Hanoi

     Rather than reassemble my bike, I unpacked it from the cardboard container (packed for the flight from Saigon to Hanoi) and repacked it into my bicycle traveling case.  With my bike to ride, I used one of the loaners at the hotel.  After coffee with Dan, Faye and David at the local open cafe a stone’s through from the hotel, David Radford (a seaplane Pilot and sailor living in Subic Bay, Phillipines) and I  had lunch at a funky buffet a mile down the road.  He rides a one gear bike with no brakes. Back pressure on the pedals slows the bike down.  Not my first choice for a bike.
      Hai showed up in the afternoon and saw that I could use a better bike to get around the Island on.  We walked over to his place where he brought out one of his racing machines.  On our way back to the hotel as I was pushing the bike, a woman on a motorbike grazed the bike and pushed it into me. The bike’s pedal dug into the top of my right foot.  Within thirty seconds my sandal was full of blood.  Hai found a store around the corner where he bought some gauze, antiseptic and medical tape.  He cleaned my foot up and taped on a gauze bandage.  After having two beers outside of my micro hotel sitting in a sidewalk cafe chair, I rallied Peter upstairs and we had dinner our at a local place nearby.  Peter is from South Africa and teaches English to grammar school Vietnamese kids.  He is gay, funny and fun to hang out with. As the evening progressed my foot has become progressively sorer.  I limped back to my hotel across the street from original digs when I first stayed before my journey.  Given the injury, I am not optimistic about being able to ride around tomorrow.  Two minor accidents caused by two woman motorbikers.  Hai lamented how woman on motorbikes are dangerous.

3:30 is way to early to wake up

  3:30 is a really ugly hour to get up considering I went to bed just before midnight. I dressed in ten minutes and Victor call a Grab car for my ride to the airport.  The flight was two hours and everything arrived in good condition.  A taxi brought to my Hanoi digs. A two hour nap helped revive  me enough to dine out with Dan for dinner at a local vegetarian restaurant. Tomorrow I will assemble
my bike so I can get in a few days of riding around Hanoi.

Surviving Saigon traffic is an art form

   The ride is essentially complete  but I do want to see something of HCM/Saigon.  Compliments of Goggle, I rode several miles in the wrong direction looking for the war museum.  Eventually I arrived at the site and spent a good two hours absorbing the horrors of the Vietnamese-American war.  It was very sobering. I thought about posting some pictures and quotes but passed on it, knowing that it was a subject that has two volatile sides.  Thank you Robert McNamara.  Anyways, the museum was worth seeing despite its grimness.  Related to the war, Peter Doan’s wife’s father was a colonel in the North Vietnamese army.  His job was to plan out an implement the missile defense system protecting Hanoi.  I find it utterly astonishing that Vietnamese seem to have moved on and do not dwell on the subject.  Of course, my generation was essential elinminated.  The   US lost 55,000 troops, the Vietnamese lost 3,000,000 (2,000,000 civilians).  We had 30,000 missing in action, Vietnam had  300,000 missing in action.  If Robert McNamera had leveled with Lyndon Johnson, chances are thousands of lives could have been saved.
        After the museum, I found the huge central post office, mobbed by tourist, and mailed off some postcards.  Back at the bike shop, at Victor’s recommendation, I found a nice upscale cafe a few blocks away and had a smoothie and some lunch.  At the end of the working day, one of Victor’s employees helped me disassemble and crate my bike. He had saved a crate that a new bike had been shipped in.  Topping off the day, Victor’s eighty-one year old mother cooked us another delicious meal. I was given some tips on using chopsticks.  Holding the small rice bowl right up to my lips is legitimate.
        I am packed and ready for my flight to Hanoi. I almost royally screwed up what day I was leaving on.  Thinking my flight was the day after tomorrow, somehow I realized  it was tomorrow instead. Talk about a fire drill when I was just settling in for the evening. Victor kicked into gear and helped me get all the bags packed and weighed.  With the high humidity, my bed time T shirt was drenched. Rise and shine at 3:30 for my 6:30 flight.  A Grab car is getting me to the airport.  Why go to bed.

Twenty-two miles of insane motorbike traffic

   Binh and his family made a fabulous Vietnamese breakfast for me of noodles, spinach and pork soup, ginger tea and mango.  After pictures, hugs, and my many thank yous, Binh lead me out to the main road. For the next twenty-one miles, the motorbike traffic was intense to the point there were thousands of them in front of me and thousands of them behind me with only a few feet between each bike.  The closer I got to Saigon, the more intense it became.  Bikes ride up sidewalks, trucks and cars trying to merge in.  It kept me on my toes.  Finally, off in the distance the city high rises appeared, enshrouded in a yellow haze of smog.  Other than a few wrong turns in the city proper, I arrived at my Warmshowers.org host. Victor came out of his open front bicycle shop and spotted me first.  He set me up on the third floor followed by his eight-one year old mother making a superb lunch for us.
      After hanging out at the shop for the afternoon, due to the heat, I took a Grab ride (same as Uber and Lyft) over to meet Peter, his wife and son for dinner.  The restaurant clientele was loaded with westerners, the most I had seen since being in Vietnam.  Peter’s nine year old son was amazingly good in English. Afterwards we strolled the city center mall where there were no motor vehicles.  The buildings were lit up with colorful lighting designs and fountains sprayed up from the sidewalks.  Apparently, after the subway is complete, motorbikes will be banned from the city.  Good luck with that.  After an-after-dinner smoothie  at a second floor cafe. I took a Grab ride back to Victor’s place.
    With a flight planned for early Friday morning back to Hanoi, I will spend tomorrow and the next checking out the city.

Vietnamese hospitality at is best

    From breakfast into the night, Binh and his family rolled the proverbial red carpet. For all three meals, the family laid the most delicious dishes of food. Since yesterday I have tried four new fruits I have never seen or tasted before.  Jackfruit and Durian are two fruits I can remember the names of.  Binh’s older sister, Thanh, took me by bus up town where we went to a war museum and then to market stretching down a narrow city street.  She pointed out the various Vietnamese delicacies that I would not have had a clue about otherwise.  Of the one I tried, they referred to it as the Vietnamese hamburger.  Two glutenous opaque rice paddies with a pork pate half inch  slice sandwiched in between.  With paper wrapped around it. I was shown how to press the rice sticky substance flat to cover the pork. They joked how it was very filling, which it was as well as being delicious.  After returning  home for a shower, family lunch and  a short nap, Binh drove me on his motorbike over to his school where he worked, Dung Nai Technical University.  There his assistants took me around to the English classes and where I made brief appearances.  Either shyness and/or bad teaching, only a few students could speak English, sort of.  Hot and humid, my shirt was drenched but I continued on meeting and talking with students and administrators for at least two hours.  At the Cantina, I was treated to orange juice and spoke with more students sitting around at the tables.  Binh and I made our way through the barrage of motorbikes and  narrow alley streets back to his house. Another nap followed, whereupon I had another feast.   The brother, Cong, opened up about the problems of Vietnam.  Pollution, resulting cancer, poor educational standards and a government which was more inner focused and less concerned with the people.  His older brother, wife and two children moved to Australia for a better life.  The sister, Thanh, gave me a mask for riding, surprised I wasn’t wearing one for my trip.  Because of the pollution, everyone on motorbikes, particularly the woman, where decorative cloth masks.
   After dinner, Binh, his two sisters and I strolled the neighborhood streets, checking out the church reinactment practice of Christ’s crusification walk to Calvary hill.  We stopped off at a friend’s house for cold yellowing tea which everyone serves.  Their friend is a taylor and his fifteen year old daughter could speak English almost fluently.  She stressed how the school system did a very poor job of teaching English and she had gone online to teach herself.  She wants to study in England someday. On our way back to the house, we stopped off for another fruit delight.  By now my stomach was feeling the effects of too much indulgence.
      Tomorrow I leave these wonderful people and head for Saigon twenty miles away. Thanh, who commutes to a bank in the big city as an I.T. administrator, will meet me in the afternoon for a late lunch.  She gave me a whole list of places to see.

Another extraordinary day

    Woke up real early and shoved off from Vung Tau at 5:24 with barely enough light to see.
 People were up and about riding bikes and exercising. The first 20 miles was a breeze,  straight and flat roads with no traffic. After that with the first town came the never ending city along with the traffic.  Saigon has spread its tentacles out for miles.  Usually the towns and cities come and go, not this time.  No exaggeration, there must be fifty million motorbikes in Vietnam with a population of one hundred million people. There was no time for me to shift into automatic pilot.  I had to be vigilant for the next three hours. With forty miles covered, I took refuge at set back farmers market where I had a huge mango,  an ice tea drink, Vietnamese pancakes and the best milk I have ever tasted.  Back on the road again, the heat ratchet up and I pushed on to Bien Hoa.  Sixty miles on the odometer,  I found a cafe just inside the city where I cooled off for twenty minutes. Next, trying to find Binh’s church, our rendezvous point, turned into another Google GPS cluster F—-.  It had me weaving all over the city.  At the fifth church, I stopped on the verge of losing my mind and called Binh.   (Google needs to get this god damn app off the market.  Apple’s navigation system is equally as bad.  For my next trip, I need to find a navigational system that knows what the hell it is doing.  Thank Jesus that I have a compass and paper map.) With help from the church’s priest, Binh was able find me and lead me back to his house where his family was waiting.  Through very narrow neighborhood streets we weaved. I never would have found his place on my own.  A modest front to his house, sandwiched in amongst many others, opened into fairly sizable store, house, storage area, garden and a completely separate new house in the back.  His parents, five years my junior,  and three of Binh’s siblings where there to greet me. Everyone lives on the premises in one area or another. After feeding me lunch and his sister introducing me to two new fruits, I was shown around the enclosed property.  The father has an operation for turning tamarack root in to powdered spice.  Also, he processes other natural ingredients into a variety of other spices. His youngest daughter uses the front portion of the house as a store to sell the spices along with other exotic items to the surrounding neighborhoods.  If you were not a local, you would have never found this place.  Binh set me up in the new house in the rear, all to myself.  After cleanup and a nap, he took me to his church on his motorbike. With me in the back, he maneuvered around tight alley turns with amazing adeptness. His church is huge and has multiple services to accommodate the thousands of members. Everything was in Vietnamese except for Amen. As the only western in the church, taller than everyone else, I felt I was on display.  Once out of church, we hopped on the bike, picked up some baguettes hot out of the local bakery oven and head for home.  Dinner was ready and I was the special guest. They waited on me as  though I were royalty. Every topic was touch upon: the war, the government system, my bicycle trips, their efforts to speak english, eating dog, abortion, America... and on it went. They want me here for two nights and tomorrow I will visit the university that Binh is the dean of and even sit in on an English class.  What an experience I am in the middle of here in Buen Hoa.

A day of rest by the sea

   Sleeping in is waking up at 6:30, I felt a pang if guilt.  Peter suggested I ride up the coast a bit and check out the waterfront.  With no gear on the bike, I was forty-five pounds lighter riding around town. A lot of Asian tourist with very few westerners about.  Everyone looks at me but I am equally curious.  At 5’10”, the average American male height, I feel  much bigger.  Everyone is smaller, and the mirrors, door security eye, umbrellas and such are several inches lower.  The women are particularly small which makes me feel even taller.   This is the first time I have had to pay attention to umbrella heights at markets and other objects I have always taken for granted.
     After several miles down the coast taking in the maritime traffic on the water side and the hotels and restaurants inland, I refocused on finding a bank and small fruit vendor.  Bank location are a well guarded secret around here but at least the ATM cooperated with me. At the fruit stand, I decided it was time to try out some of the exotic fruits. The woman was helpful by giving me samples of a few of them.  So far, I haven’t come across anything I don’t like and some of the foods over here are bizarre.  Unlike most Americans, I will try anything at least once no matter how strange it may be.  Fried crickets and beetles are actually quite good but remember to pull of their spiney legs before munching on them.  Baby eels have a slippery texture and a creepy look but are tasty.  Nothing is wasted over.  Chickens feet are everywhere and that is only one of the oddities offered at the market.
     Back at the apartment I sampled three new fruits, all of which were good. I haven’t a clue what they are called.  One is from the cactus type plant I saw cultivated.  The fruit is pink with green an pink limbs/swollen leaves growing out all over.  The inside is a white mellon with tiny black seeds throughout.  Tomorrow on the road, I will be trying out a few more fruits.
     After a nap, I read, washed more clothes  and went out for dinner.  Every restaurant that  I go, family’s show up.  Infants to grandparents, everyone is there.  The older kids entertain the younger kids, some of the four and five year olds wander around but everyone is accepting of it. I saw this in Denmark and Japan as well.  There is less mobility over here and the old family values seem to be intact.
       Tomorrow, I am off to Bien Hoa where I will meet up with Binh and his family. This will be my last long ride of the trip.

Good ride but still hot and humid

  I pulled out of Binh Chau at 6:03, a town that I don’t need to visit again.  There are vibrant towns I have visited and towns that were definitely third world with little if any development going on. Finding Peter Doan’s Condominium took awhile.  By the way, Peter is totally Vietnamese, his name given to him as a catholic was Peter.  He is the only Vietnamese person I have met who has a western name legitimately. Anyways, once at his building, across the street from the ocean, Peter, who was in Saigon, called his cleaning girl to let me in.  A nicely laid out efficiency on the fourteenth floor with a balcony and view to die for.  Two nights here is much needed since I have been on the road five straight days.  The television is set up for his son’s videos so I have two books online which I have been reading.  Out in the bay are dozens of ships anchored and moving to and from the docks. Both container and tankers of medium size are spread out for miles. Fishing boats are trawling in between the larger ships.
  Restaurants and luxury hotels line the waterfront.  I tried one restaurant across the street for lunch and another for dinner.  They both had delicious seafood dishes.  A micro convenience store, located strategically across the road, enabled me to stock on juice and bottled water. Given the afternoon heat I treated myself to two popsicles. Ice cream and smoothies are lifesavers given the heat.
     Peter messengered me at the end of the day saying he could not make it down from Saigon because of his business load.  So, tomorrow morning I will ride down the towns long shoreline and his top at  the supermarket and bank along the way.  Everything over here is so different but I am becoming quite accustomed to it.  Looking at everyone as Asians is no longer a factor. On the other hand, everywhere I go, people perk up and either stare at me, smile or say hello with a thumbs up as they motorbike by me or hail me from the side of the road. The older folks rarely react which may be because of the ‘American war’.  An interesting observation is the respect level the young generation bestows upon me. The same treatment in Japan, it is refreshing to see.
     One observation which I failed to comment on yesterday was when I saw a motorbike pass me with a three foot by three foot  cage piled up with dogs. The dogs are beagle size, all mutes and everywhere.  There is no leash law and the dogs are a bit under fed.  Most appear to be pets but none have collars and they are all scratching due to flees. Dogs are no longer eaten over here or at least that is what they want you to believe.  I felt very sad for the dogs in the cage. Pigs, chickens and ducks are what I usually see, being taken to market but dogs are another matter.
     A day of rest tomorrow and then my last major ride to Bien Hoa then a very short one to HCM/Saigon.  It will be a month on the road as if April 7.  What an amazing trip.

Very early start, long but good ride

   Early to bed enabled me to rise at 4:45 and start off from Phan Thiet at 5:44.  It was light enough out though the sun hadn’t risen.  Rush hour was well underway with thousands of motorbikes on the move.  You would have thought I was a late sleeper.  At a local market I had to finesse my way through a mass of humanity.  Once out on Route one, the hoards of motorbikes, cars and trucks were everywhere, horns blaring.  My new hi tech horn has been very useful, helping me ward off the crazies.  It is compact with a bottom right beneath my right brake lever.  It puts our four different rings, all of which catch your attention real fast.
     A good hour into my ride, I finally reach the turn off for the coastal road.  Instantly, the landscaped changed into serene countryside.  The road was less than smooth but the villages I passed through had a nice innocent feel to them. People stared and waved or shouted ‘Hello’.  One village after another with the ocean off in the distance to my left.  After three and a half hours of pedaling with the the heat building I pulled over at a nowhere road side store of sorts.  As I left this morning, the hotel owner gave me a huge peeled grapefruit.  So I bought two strange brand sodas and whittled away at the grapefruit. This place was a real shack isolated on a hillside with very little inventory.  The interior was stripped down with a very modest living arrangement in the back room.  An attractive woman in her fifties ran the place. She seemed totally out of place, along with her iPhone 6.  She pulled up a chair and watched me eat trying to speak to me in Vietnamese.  It was all very odd.  Back on the bike, I began my only climb of the day.  It lasted for about a mile, nothing too strenuous.  Finally after almost sixty miles ridden,  I rolled into Binh Chau.  Although known for its hot springs, the town was fairly much a third world operation or close to it.  I did find a hotel, though nothing special.  Later, I walked into town and had a classic Vietnamese lunch of rice with a mixture of items I pointed out for the woman to load on.  The open front restaurant had the usual low tables, small chairs, chopsticks, dim lighting, hot sauce, tissues as napkins and curious looks from the other patrons. I ate as if I were a local having become very familiar with how things are done.  Drifting around town looking for ice cream brought me back to the cafe I initially stopped at.  Humidity and the late afternoon heat had me sucking down my second smoothie of the day followed by a bowl of ice cream. I earned it.
     Tomorrow morning I have a short ride to the coastal city of Vung Tau where I will be meeting up with Peter Doan, who I met in Nha Trang.  He has a high rise condo that I will be staying at for two nights.

     

Hills for forty miles

 I broke the 6:00 threshold by leaving Phan Ri at 5:58.  Four hours of up one hill as slow as three mph down the other side up to thirty-four mph. I must have climbed twenty hills and by 9:00 I was pouring down the water as the sun was blaring down on me from the east.  Following the shoreline was very picturesque and soil was a mixture of white sand switching over to bright orange dirt.  A nice four lane road with barely a car in sight with a landscaped medium with flowering trees and manicured hedges. As I progressed, the resorts became more frequent and way above my paid grade.  Finding no suitable place to pull over after three hours, I plodded along until reached Phan Thiet.
I stopped at a cafe and had my standard Mango Smoothie while I decompressed in the air conditioning.  Less than a kilometer I found my hotel which I reserved through booking.com.
Like so many of the nice but small hotels, it was down a small side alley.  Very obliging owner who started snapping pictures of me.  Like several other hotels I have stayed at, had a woman been along for the ride, this place would have met her standard.  580,000 Dong is pricy compared to the other places but still under $30.  After cleaning  up and taking a nap, I went down to the small open court yard where the owners sat me down for a delicious Vietnamese lunch.  Since
opening the newly built hotel four months earlier, I was the first American, on a bike no less. After lunch I walked down to the waterfront where the bordering land was being redeveloped with new hotels, house and roads such as I have seen at two other towns along the way.  I parked myself at one of the new hotel outside restaurants and had a brew.  Walking back, I found a vibrant side street outdoor market stretching several hundred feet. There I stocked up with a mango and two oranges. Walking down the side alley to my hotel, I bought some wraps of sorts filled with mini Salmon as the owner explained to me. Delicious items dipped in a tomatoe peanut sauce.
      Tomorrow I follow the coast and the word is the terrain flattens out. Partly cloudly is forecast so I am hoping for a cooler ride.

48 miles before 11:00, beautiful shoreline, oppressive road heat

     6:12 out of Phan Rang, a few modest hills, beautiful shoreline but oppressive road heat after three hours.  A break for food and shade gave me the boost to finish the last ten miles to Phan Ri.  I noticed coral for sale for the first time and the cultivation of the Pitahaya cactus plants.  Subtle changes in the fauna catch my attention as I ride south. And less subtler is the racketeering up of the heat.  No clouds made it imperative that I start early and ride as far as I can in the first five hours.  The time goes by quickly as I am always observing what I pass by.  Villages, landscape changes, shoreline views you, passing motorbikes and honking trucks, bleating goats, cordoned off waterways packed with thousands of ducks destined for the market, large trucks filled with pigs, motorbikes carrying everything imaginable, students piled in motorbikes coming back and forth from school, tractors pulling loads of hay, house construction everywhere, bricks piled up on the roadside, unending family restaurants sunken into their primitive openfront structures, men in groups having coffee, periodic shouts of ‘HELLO’ from people of all ages and so many other countless observations.  The ride is never boring.
     I arrived in Phan Ri and with the help of the cafe employees, I found a hotel feet from the beach. A bit depreciated but the room and bath were clean and the second floor view off the balcony was spectacular.  A brand new supermarket was around the corner where I stocked up on breakfast and road food.  It was another one of those neighborhoods which appeared to have been demolished and under reconstruction. After walking on the beach, wading ankle deep in the water, collecting a few shells, watching a man work the shoreline for small shellswith this hand towed device, I headed down the street for dinner.  One waiter knew enough English to arrange for a veritable feast, Vietnamese style.
    Back at the room, the wind had slowed down but the sound of the surf was still there.
Tomorrow I huge the coast and stay off route one.

Sixty miles by 11:15

   Off at 6:00 on the nose from Nha Trang; other than a few modest hills as the road skirted a mountain, the road was as flat as straight edge.  With no wind and the sun blocked by clouds for a major part of the ride, I rode fifty miles in four hours.  I stopped at a church for lunch for 20 minutes and then finished up the last ten miles.  11:25 I rolled in to Phan Ranh and I had been spared by the heat and mountains.  As I bicycled into town,  I passed a guy scooping ice cream from his bicycle concession stand.  It looked so good that I turned around about half a mile past him and returned hoping to find him.  A girl was there on her motorbike eating one of these delights.  Taking a shucked  coconut, the man cut the top off the nut, scraped the white inner liner off the walls and then heaped on several scoops of coconut ice cream sprinkled with chopped cashews.  Unbelievably delicious, doubly better given my hot sweaty body.  The girl on the motorbike asked me if I wanted another, not speaking a word of English.  She got up as the man was making another for me and paid him. Amazing, one of the many kind acts throughout my trip.
         After a stop at a coffee shop, I found a nice hotel in an area that looked like a completely new neighborhood was being built on land recently leveled of a former neighborhood.  Modern houses and no trash littering the area. On my way back from a bank to get more Dong, I watched some of the house construction going on.   In a few years this neighborhood will be nice upper middle class enclave totally devoid of Vietnamese culture.
     Tomorrow, I am up at five, off at six with seventy-nine kilometers to Phan Ri.