A day to rest and see the sites

    Since I have been getting up before sunrise, sleeping in means waking up at 7:00.  After doing some food shopping, (which I am getting of the hang of given the language barrier and quirky way of doing things) I headed out to see the Thop Ba Ponagar temples.  Four main buildings with working Buddhist alters being used by the numerous Chinese tourist. Shoes had to come off and robes worn to cover bare legs.  Incense burning, the real deal;  it was interesting watching the way the praying was being done. There were some bordering stone pathways and rock fountains to add to the ambiance of the site.  There was a museum building giving before and after restoration pictures and some recreated statues of multi-handed Buddhas on display.  At one point four Chinese woman in their thirties or forties insisted on me being in pictures with them, each separately.  It was very strange but I went along with it. I have noticed the Chinese to be less considerate of others and of one’s personal space.  They would bump into me in passing and just keep going without apologizing.  The Vietnamese are quieter and more considerate.
        Next stop was the large city market building and farm produce vendors outside.  Live chickens to wrist watches to vegetables, meats, you name it. The outside area was s mess with trash layering the narrow road way and the smells didn’t do much for me either.  I rode around the place and went into one section of the building before I decided I would rather be on the waterfront having a beer or two.  I found a expansive beach front restaurant with a patio perfect for enjoying the beach, green water,  surrounding mountains and islands.  A nice breeze kept the temperature very pleasant.  Back at my hotel I took a nap and had dinner at a neighboring outdoor restaurant.
       Tomorrow, I will start off at 6:00 and pray for no hills and plenty of cloud cover. Phan Rang is fifty miles away.  If I pace myself drink volumes of water, I should do ok.

Riding at night is an option

   6:14 and Van Gia was in my rear view mirror.  Only thirty-five miles to Nha Trang.  By 8:30 the heat  and humidity were turning me into sweaty a mess.  Trying to ward off dehydration I kept pouring down the water. A brief stop to wash the salt out of my eyes, I pedaled on.  Mountains on either side of me, I was expecting another mountain pass but somehow the road twisted around them.  Only as came down the last few miles did I hit a mile of climbing.  The road looked flat but it was an optical illusion,  I had to keep downshifting, slowing down to a creep.  Finally Nha Trang can into view with all its shoreline high rises.  Only 10:00 and it felt it was the mid afternoon.  At a cafe, I search and found a hotel in the center of town.  Dan Potter had put me in touch with two of his Vietnamese friends who recommended a Homestay.  Checked it out online and it was way out of my budget. They claimed it was the another site but I wasn’t about to wait to have them (Vimala and Ud) figure it out, given my overheated body and desire to find a place to park myself.  A two night stay will help fortify me for the last stretch to Ho Chi Ming City, 260 miles.
      Cleaned up, washed the clothes, took a nap and headed to the beach waterfront.  Strolled down both directions before stopping at a beach Tiki bar for a beer.  Round eyed westerners were everywhere, particularly the fat Americans, hard to miss. One seat down, a Vietnamese guy (Peter Doan) and I struck up a conversation. He started a interior design business ten years earlier where he designs layouts for large office buildings and hotels. He now employs sixty employees and works with dozens of subcontractors.  I filled him in about my doings in return. Next thing we were in a cab headed out for dinner where we would meet his friends at a Vietnamese fish restaurant.  His meditation/yoga instructor, her husband and twelve year old son joined us.  A very gay friend/follower of the meditation instructor arrived next..  It was interesting to get the gay twenty/five year old’s take on being gay in Vietnam.  The long rectangle table filled with one dish after another, an amazing spread of food. My chopstick practice paid off. Our conversation was lively.  The gay kid, Peter and the mediation instructor’s command of English kept things moving.  Peter had a plane to make back to Saigon so he called a cab and got me back to my hotel and he to the airport. Pictures taken, Facebook connections made and I hope we meet again.
     What a day. Tomorrow I site-see and rest up for my ride to Cam Ranh.  I need to start off earlier to minimize the heat and humidity.

Still fighting the heat and the mountains

    A shorter ride of forty miles changes nothing, the strategy remains the same.  I got an early start at 6:40 from Tuy Hoa. Flat and steady for a good hour before mountains appeared and the road was heading right for them.  Hugging the coast helped but I still had to climb a modest mountain pass.  The heat and humidity were my constant companion. Spectacular views interspersed with islands and house boats out in the distant bays made for a good visuals while I made my way up, down and around following the coast.  A break for lunch at a third world roadside restaurant set me up for the last eight miles to Van Gia.  I drifted through town and decided to visit the shoreline where I thought the hotels would be located. Being a fishing village morphed into small city, the developers have not come to town yet.  Hotels were not readily apparent even online while cooling off at a cafe.  As I was leaving to wander the streets, a waiter (Hein, pronounced Hing) approached me and offered to fill my water bottles.  Returning with water and ice in each of my bottles, I asked if he know of any local hotels.  He pointed to the waterfront.  Five minutes down the road, he suddenly appeared on his motorbike and motioned for me to follow.  Winding through the back side streets, he led me to what was the only decent hotel in the city.  Without much ado, he rode off.  Later that evening I had dinner there and thanked Hein again. He let me take his picture for the record.   Dinner was a feast and I will need the fuel for tomorrow’s ride to Nha Trang forty miles south.  I will rise st 5:00 and try to get off by  6:15.

Long day, hot day

My earliest start ever, 6:25. Just out of Quy Nhon, the hills began and heat and sun bore down.  Following the shoreline was scenic, boat houses spread out along the bays, but I could have done without a few of the hills. Trying to cut down on the miles covered,  I broke away from route one and went straight through a town.  I cut down on the miles but not the time.  A killer hill hit me which had me walking for ten minutes.  Enough of trying to out smart the road configuration.  With thirty-four miles behind me and twenty-four to go, I pulled off: one mango, four cheese sticks, bread, tea vitamin drink and finishing it off with dark chocolate.  What to do with my trash?  Vietnam has no trash receptacles and trash is everywhere so I carry mine until I get to my destination. The country is on the move but trash is everywhere.  I see people cleaning up their storefronts and in front of their houses but that is it.  Not a National priority, I guess.
    Back on the road, 10:13 and the heat was pushing ninety.  Hugging the coast cut down on the monsters hills but not enough for the hills to go away.  I keep hoping.  No shade, blazing heat, climbing over the heat radiating road surface, sweating profusely, pouring down the water, on and on it went. With sixteen miles remaining, I pulled over after a tough grind to the top of a hill to a small store and took a second break for three sodas and a grapefruit. Hydrated as much as possible, I pushed on until I arrived in Tuy Hoa, 58.74 miles. The town is new essentially and not much flavor to it other than the waterfront.  Found a good place, did the usual, bought some road food and dined out at a chain restaurant, the same as the one I went to several days back with the grill built into table and a buffet.  Nha Trang is seventy-two miles and too far for one day, so I will do two short days.

A lazy day mixed with a little site seeing

   Slept in to 6:30 and drifted down stairs and sat around talking to the various westerners and Vietnamese lounging about on the tiny outside patio just off the quiet side street.  While it was still cool enough I rode over to the other side of town and visited the brick towers which date back over a thousand years ago. Two sixty foot brick structures that seem to be large ceremonial chimneys.  Several very steep stairs brought me up into this ten by ten foot room which was open to the sky.  One of these two towers leans slightly, adding to its charm.  The indigenous people (Khmer) who were pushed south by the northern Vietnamese tribes, built several of these towers in this general  area.  UNESCO has designated these structures as world heritage sites and the remaining indigenous  people are active in their preservation. Yesterday,  about twelve miles out of town, I came across another such ornate structure atop a large hill.
      Once back at the hotel, I had lunch and just lounged around.  Went out for dinner and then sought out a sweet dessert across the main plaza/park by the waterfront.  Tomorrow the heat index will be spiking upwards so I will be up early to get my riding in before noon.

From rice and fruit to coconuts and wheat

   As I rode out of Bong Son at 6:34, the sun was shining and the sky was blue.  Less pollution revealing the blue sky for a change.  It could be a hot one.  Mountains to my left and having to climb a few hills had me a little worried but I moved along at over eleven mph all morning.  Craving fruit I kept looking for fruit market stands.  Coconuts everywhere but no fruit. With just over thirty miles ridden, I spotted a tented fruit stand down a side street on the other side.  Fruit in Vietnam is amazing, many varieties I don’t have a clue as to what they are.  Mangos, green oranges and grapes are my preferences.. Pulling up a chair in the shade of the stand, I devoured a bunch of grapes, a mango and an orange.  A tea drink followed  and I was off to finish the last twenty miles to Quy Nhon. All morning, mile after mile all I saw was wheat raked out over the road shoulders. A few individuals had used tarps under the wheat but most of it lay directly on the road.  The chaff was also laid out for what looked like future food for the live stock.  In Vietnam nothing is wasted.  
      As I closed in on Quy Nhon, an older adolescent pulled up by me and started speaking English.  He lived up way a short way and wanted me to come to his house.  With heat rising, I had to keep going.  However, he explained that the area I was riding through was the original capital of Vietnam inhabited by people related to the Cambodians and Laotians.  The Vietnamese pushed down from the north and took over.  Further south there is an area when these people still exist and speak their own language.  The state has television shows in their language in order to help preserve it. As well, this original group of people built various towers of stone, two of which I got a glimpse of in the distance.
        Once in town, I reserved a room at a hotel while decompressing at a cafe with a coconut and straw. And of course, goggle ran me around in circles.  Down a small side street, looking for the ‘Luxury Hotel’, two girls young school girls pointed down the road. Creeping along I came across a hotel with several westerners hanging out at a very inviting patio.  I stopped, looked and one hippieish guy spoke out, “You look like you need a beer.”  Different hotel but this was where I was stopping.  The hotel was completed a month early and was modern and perfectly laid out, credit cards accepted. With my gear stashed in a very nice room, I parked myself on the patio and proceeded to hang out and talk with at least half a dozen people, all in their twenties and early thirties. Often on my trips abroad I meet young adults who have quit there jobs  and hit the road for foreign lands.  One American guy
, former navy enlistee, was running a small restaurant with his Indian girlfriend, cooking on the rooftop. Great food at prices so low it was a crime.  Four days on the road, I deserved two nights at this place. After cleaning up and doing the usual, I walked down to the waterfront where I found a huge beach filled with swimmers and such. Across a large boulevard hotels abounded.  Small mountains on either side of a two mile water front gave the town a nice feel.  And of course, there was a huge park with an enormous gold leafed statue of two leaders of the revolution with a equally huge granite mural back drop. Keep in mind the motorbikes were everywhere with horns beeping.  Set back from the back street were chairs and tables where everyone faced the water drinking fruit drinks from funky fruit drink stands lined up along the sidewalk. The city is a vibrant place.  Walking back to my hotel, I walked the small back streets, taking in all the open front restaurants.  The small chairs and the low tables with people eating and talking away.  Real local flavor that makes Vietnam so interesting.
    Back at the hotel Matt (the expat navy guy from Colorado) and his exotic Indian girl friend cooked me up an Marsala and rice dish, a bit hot but delicious.  Now for a good nights sleep and a tour of the city and ancient towers tomorrow.

Early start, good ride, amazing evening

 A sleep on a rock hard mattress made it tough getting up at 5:30.  Nevertheless, the pedals started turning at 6:40.  I record I believe but anything to beat the heat and humidity.  Fifty-five miles went fairly effortlessly.  Hugging the shore, the road narrowly skirted a series of mountains.  A few short hills but I was spared.  I passed Bông Son thinking the small town I passed could not be the right place. Quickly realizing I was about to head back into countryside with nothing in sight, I spotted a hotel on the outskirts and pulled in.  A 11:50 arrival, 55 miles traveled and the heat had just started to crank up.  Not more than ten minutes after checking in and bring my gear upstairs, a van showed up with ten college student and two faculty members.  Taking the rooms next to mine, we hit off right away.  An invitation to dinner followed, 18:00.  
     With my clean up routine complete and tomorrow’s route determined, I zonked out for and hour. Later, I decided the bike needed a wash, it was layered in dirt and grime.  The guy at the counter gave me the bucket and soup.  Sitting on one of those small plastic chairs with my hand brush in hand, I scrubbed for about an hour. Later, I filled the water bottles and picked up a few tea drinks for the road.  The group of students and I rendezvoused and headed into the small town of Bong Son where we found a restaurant specializing in these Vietnamese pancakes.  Sitting me in the middle, the food and beer began arriving. One of the girls showed how to make the rice wrap with the pancakes and veggies inside.  It looked easy but I made a mess on my first and only attempt. The girl across from me took over and kept making them for me for the entire meal.  We all talked while the students squeezed out a bit of English with the two faculty, Huy and Binh, translating.  It was a scene, pictures flashing, toasting with our beer glasses and on it went for a good hour and a half.  I was seated in the front of the van as we drove back and forth from the restaurant.  A nice little town with a colorfully lighted bridge and other street pole decorative lights added to the character to the place. Back at the hotel we all Facebooked each other and more pictures followed.  As I am learning, they love Americans, as odd as that may sound.  Me being on a bicycle intrigued them even more.  Perhaps someday when the government allows students to do exchange programs, I may see a few of them on my door step.

Rain instead of heat

  5:45  I was up before the alarm played Bolero.  Thinking I was the early bird, I looked out the window about 6:30 and saw kids playing soccer on a a rough field of grass.  Now I have figured out why I see schools letting around mid morning to noon.  They are doing what I am catching onto. Get up around 5:00 and beat the heat and humidity.
    I was on the the road out of Tam Ky at 7:06 with seventy kilometers to Quang Ngai.   An hour into the ride, the sky darkened and the rain and wind arrived.  Nothing serious but enough to put on my hi tech poncho.  Actually, no kidding, it is a made of a very light material with loops for the arms, a strap for the bars, draw straps to tighten up the skirt and hood.  It wasn’t cheap but a lot less than the sleek riding jackets which only turn you into a sweaty mess.  My poncho allows the air to circulate and cuts down on the accumulation of body moisture. Moving right along, I bucked a head wind a light rain for two hours. A short stop for some noodle and beef soup gave me the mid morning boost to finish the ride to Quang Ngai.  In the center of town, sipping down mango tea I found a nice hotel a short ride around the corner. An Englishman happened in and we talked a while.  The My Lai massacre site is s short ride which he thought I should see. There is a museum there commemorating the event. I passed, not needing to relive what was a very dark day in our military involvement in Vietnam.
      The hotel fit the bill despite the four floor walk up to my room.  The owner sat me down with her family and feed me watermelon, nice friendly way of starting things off. The usual clean up followed, i.e, washing clothes in the sink, mapping out tomorrow’s ride and finally a nap. Out the door to check out the town brought me to an a large four story building housing a shopping mall.  Second one I have seen, not the usual sprawl we are accustomed to seeing.  City land is tight and so the buildings go up and not out.  Bought some road food at the supermarket and then spotted a restaurant. An amazing experience, a Vietnamese style Benihana arrangement with a grill set into the middle of the table.  A wattress helped me through the whole process. First the buffet table filled with Vietnamese food, followed by the delivery of a three layer rack of different meats thinly cut.  Twice, wattresses came by to replace the grilling grate.  Two beers, a kiwi ice smoothie followed by a self service soft ice cream finished off the meal. The wattress offered me a fork but I stuck with the chopsticks. I loved the scene, it was so much fun. This shopping plaza was alive with everyone with the accompanying cacophony of noise.  The play areas for the teens on down out did anything I have ever seen at home.  You have to experience this place first hand to appreciate the energy packed into this building.
     Tomorrow, I rise at 5:30 to get off before seven.

Flat but hot and humid

 7:15 I was peddling out of Da Nang east then south to China Beach.  Wayne Carlson,  a Vietnam veteran, asked me to bring him some sand from this beach. Wayne psssed away a two months ago but I am still bring him the sand  as I did with Omaha beach in France.  Along the way, I passed numerous luxury resorts on both sides of the road, mostly gated.  A lot of money flowing into these resorts which is bring big money from all over the world.  What is odd is how cut off these places are from the Vietnamese culture and people. These resorts could be anywhere, it would make no difference which country.
       A short break after three hours by an upscale amusement park fueled me up for the second half of the ride.  Mile after mile of beach scrub landscape without a person or building in site. I was staring down the vanishing line for over two hours.  The road was modern and wide with evidence of construction for another two lanes. The plans are big for this area.  It was nice to arrive in Tam ky after forty-six miles of heat and humidity.  My first hotel, found online, was below my standard so I found another hotel just down the road which worked though twice the price, twenty-two dollars. The road leading to hotel tripled in width where it appeared there was a military installation.  The guards at the main gate shouldering machine guns was a clue.  Probably a military parade review area.  The city isn’t that big but there is some military significance to it.  The progress south continues but I need to get off earlier to minimize the exposure to the heat and humidity. Breakfast is served starting at 5:30.

Hooked up my USB port for recharging

     Up at 7:00 and on the back of a motorbike at 8:00. Huy’s (We) grandfather has a slick carbon fiber racing  bike and one awesome electronic horn mounted on it. I wanted one. He drove me over to the bike shop to buy one. Ballistic sound that you won’t ignore.  More importantly, riding on the back of a motorbike in Vietnamese traffic is one of those life altering experiences.  Weaving through intersections jammed with traffic going in all directions.  When to yield and not to yield, it is instinctual with these drivers.  Made it back alive, hooked up the horn and rode to the supermarket to stock up on road food.  If you are looking for the oranges, they are green.
      With one day to scope out Da Nang, I rode to the waterfront and saw the dragon bridge and another modern suspension bridge which was a real marvel. Wandered from side street to side street, taking in all the shops, restaurants and people, a mixture of old and new worlds.  Everyone sits on these plastic chairs half the size of ours.  Ended up a modern coffee shop on the waterfront and chilled for an hour with two peach ice tea lattes.  Later at my back alley pocket hotel, I blacked out for an hour or so before experiencing another motorbike ride to buy a new headset. Huy drove, I leaned with the curves.  He translated and I bought.  With everything taken care of, I walked
a local seafood restaurant recommended by Huy.  Shrimp four inches long sautéed in garlic and butter.  Try shelling and eating them with chopsticks. The rice/veggies and two beers was perfect with the monster garlic shrimp. Back at the hotel, I met more of Huy’s family, friended him on Facebook, took pictures and learned more about how his father and aunt had used their land to build a new hotel. Central to town and only 250,000 Dong, brand new building, a real find.  Several people are spending up to six months there? $300/month, I could do this!  Tomorrow I am heading south on flat terrain.

The climb from Hell

 Right on schedule, 6:45, I left Hue.  Rush hour starts early, shear madness as a million motorbikes weaved around each other, going left, going right, I held my ground on the shoulder.  The pollution was one large yellow haze.  How fast can I get out of here.  Four hours later and two tunnels I turned off for the mountain bypass. The longest tunnel in Southeast Asia forbids bicycled. Just over forty-five miles ridden, it was pushing one hundred degrees with an accompanying high humidity. Running on empty, I pulled over after about two miles. A Vietnamese couple on a motorbike going down hill pulled over next to me.  After a good time with them and some lunch, I started to climb again. The energy wasn’t there and I had a long way to climb. Pushing the bike for a while, I pulled over to eat another orange and down some honey.  No question, I was bonking and need to wait for the honey, orange and a liter water to kick in.  It didn’t.  Pushing, pedaling and pulling over and over again.  The temperature and humidity were beating me up.  My legs were shaky but I had to make it to the top. Finally, I saw the concession stands and tour buses.  A person at the first stand beckoned me over. I saw the ice cream freezer and pulled out two mango popsicles. A guy working there helped me park my bike.  I sat down in an exhausted daze.  The third popsicle brought me to life.  I have never sweated so much; I was drenched.  The ride had to continue to reach Da Dang.  Down the other side of the mountain was exhilarating.  With over fifty miles on the odometer, I felt like stopping at the first hotel I came across. Off in the distance as I parallel the beach and water, I saw a skyline of high rises appear.  Modern impressive architecture kept me moving. Finding s coffee shop was next where I could find a hotel. After a dish of coconut ice cream, I dialed in the hotel location and as usual the GPS was beyond aggravation.  Google should be broken up. Maybe some tough competition will force them to come up with an app that works.
    After slowly zeroing on the hotel, I found it down an alley.  Hidden away, 250,000 Dong, $12.50, a great find. Given the 62.50 miles and one of the most miserable climbs I have ever made, I have decided to stay two nights. A big town, a lot going on and I plan on seeing some of it.

Hue is a vibrant city not to be missed

  A day off isn’t really a day off.  Arrived at the Citadel around
7:30.  My god is this historic palace huge.  The American war devastated it but
the Vietnamese and the world heritage foundation has brought much of it back to its former glory though much remains to be done. It’s origins go back to 1802.  I drifted from building to building within this huge fortress wall.   Despite the heat and humidity I spent over three hours absorbing more than I could even hope to retain.  Even finding my way out of the place took about thirty minutes.  Once outside, I realized my bike was about kilometer away. A bicycle rickshaw guy insisted on taking me for a “free” ride but upon my arrival, his tune changed.  White North American tourists are targets.  I laughed at the guy when he wanted 500,000 Dong. Almost walking off and telling him to kiss my gritty, we settled on 100,000, still a rip-off.
     Next stop, an ATM for more Dong.  The transaction was declined several times. Terrific! A little concerned, I resorted to getting help from a bank.  Vietcombank worked things out.  Vietnam just hasn’t embraced the credit card yet. And, I won’t forget my debit card.
     I met a French guy having lunch across the ally from my hotel.  We agreed to meet for dinner. In the interim, I found my way over to a shopping area, bought a Vietnamese flag and three red T shirts with a large yellow star on the front, the national flag. Returning hot and sweaty, I packed for my ride to Da Nang. An early morning start was essential given the heat and humidity.  Later as scheduled Bertrand, his young Vietnamese woman friend (a nurse) and  I went to a local restaurant of her choosing.  My chopstick skills aren’t as good I thought.  After she left for work, Bertrand and I went down to the waterfront.  You would never think this was a developing country.  The place was vibrant and upscale, an amazing place. We hoofed back to the hotel and had a nightcap beer. Now for the  5:45 am alarm.

Forty-four miles to Hue, 95 degrees by 10:00

 The flight home has been pushed back to April 16. Now the pressure is off and I can make my way down to Saigon without feeling the pressure of a deadline.  Forty-four miles in four hours with the heat was ninety-three degrees by 10:00.  As a rode into town, I began seeing an ancient wall down each small alley.  Turning towards the center of town, this huge ancient wall parallel me for at least a kilometer. Crossing a bridge into the center of Hue brought me into city’s hustle and bustle. Stopping at coffee shop, I surfed the web and found an affordable hotel around the corner. A young Canadian couple sitting next me said they were getting a deal at a hotel for sixty dollars a day.  I hated to burst their bubble saying I was paying twelve to thirteen dollar a day.  Praise Dan Potter for having brought me to the water. Had I gone the uninformed route, I might have suffered the same fate ss dd this couple and so many others. My tolerance to rough it out is in part due to my adventuresome natural and not having a female companion to rein me in.  There are benefit to being single.
       After settling in, doing some laundry in the sink, I ventured into town for a look see. A few beers, sautéed shrimp and fried rice at corner restaurant in the epicenter of traffic chaos finished off the day. Tomorrow starts early so I can beat the hoards and heat to the citadel and other city sites.
   

A hot tough day on the road

  Nothing unusual about my exit from Dong Hoi headed south.  The sun came out about ten miles down the road without a cloud in the sky.  No blue above on account of the pollution, really weird. The road became rolling hills through the dunes of the shoreline, almost desert like.  Time to put on the sunscreen and head sweat band; the salty sweat was already stinging my eyes.  The road kept rolling along without a soul  around; even the traffic was sparse. The temperature continued to rise and there was no shade anywhere.  Mile after mile in ninety-five degree heat, pouring down the water, I finally came upon a large lake captured on by the sand dunes.  Two lake side hotels tempted me but my compulsive goal orient self forbids from stopping for the day, only thirty miles on the odometer. With the temperature taking its toll and the sweat pouring off me, I found a convenience store, Vietnamese style.  After putting down two juice, four small yogurts and some chocolate cookies, I braved the heat.  Prior to leaving four eleven year old  boys stopped out of curiosity. For twenty miles one tried his English out on me, referring to his school notes, a fun time.
Out into the heat, mile after mile, a mild headwind picked up and I was becoming more uncomfortable by the mile.  Fifty miles was my minimum distance but when would that mile arrive?  Over a hill a small city appeared and perhaps a hotel. I passed two dives despite my misery, later to learn that the hotels required another ten kilometers of pedaling.  Finally, Dong Ha arrived.   I stopped at the first respectable hotel (nhe nigh). Caged birds everywhere as the owner met at open hotel front.   There is a god, fifty-seven miles felt like ninety.  Scrubbed the riding clothes in the sink, drank a few juices out of the room refrigerator, showered in luke warm water (I didn’t care), took a nap and headed out for dinner. The owner know exactly what I was looking for she I decended the stairs and directed me across a crazy main boulevard to local restaurant. This ten year old boy, at the restaurant, at the request of his grandmother asked what I wanted in pretty good English and served it up in ten minutes, smart kid.
      Tomorrow, I am on the road early even though it is only a forty-two mile down to Hue. Then for a day off, 660 miles to go to reach HCM/Saigon.

Good day, easy day.

  Ky Anh to Dong Hoi, 59 miles. Actually I saw the surf as Route1 paralleled the water.  I rolled into town which at first appeared a nothing place which turned out  to be huge place.  So many times I bicycle into the outskirts of a town and think I am in a nowhere place where there are no hotels. With the exception of one town which only had one hotel, ever other place has had plenty.  Getting directions from an intelligent guy led me to the train station where a hotel was adjacent to it.  My fifth floor corner room gave me an excellent view of the city.  In the distance, I could see the high price spread resort hotels. I will stay with the $15 accommodation.  And for the first time,  I saw some white folks like myself backpacking out of the train station.  And I got hustled by two Vietnamese woman.  Hey, the GIs left forty-six years ago.  Well anyways meeting anyone bicycling in road, other than the Belgian I hung with for all of ten minutes prior to my flat, has eluded me.  The millennials take buses and trains and everyone else is on some tour of some sort.  Neither group will never really see the country.  Am I the only one out here with real adventure in my blood? So much for the American pioneer spirit.
     Mileage signs have start showing up saying it is 1250K HCM, that is about seven hundred and fifty miles to Ho Chi Ming/Saigon.  Given that I have about fifteen days to cover this turf, I need to push back my flight about one week. Life is brief, the added expense is worth it.  Same thing  happened when I circling Ireland and there was no regret. Life in New London can wait.

Fifty-seven miles, a super market and fast food

  Out of Duc Tho with no regrets, I put on twenty-four miles before pulling off in an upscale town for refueling which included yogurt, juice and chocolate wafers. With s mango and canned ham for the road, I moved on.  Riding fifty-seven miles on route 1 was a pleasure for once.  A few hundred miles south, the madness of traffic has tapered off to a very sane level.  Arriving in Ky Anh, I found a hotel right off, cleaned up and set out for chow. Out the door, I spotted a modern store across the main boulevard.  Once across the street, I made a rare find, a supermarket which included a McDonalds of sorts. I was in heaven with shopping card searching out cheese, French bread, yogart, honey....absolutely wonderful.and I could pay with a credit card, no less.
Customers curious about me spoke to me in English. I had disovered an upscale Vietnamese clientele. Shamelessly, I indulged in fast food  of a fish sandwich, fries and an orange soda.....delightful!  Back at the room, I went further having a yogart, cheese and bread.  After taking in a Batman movie and writing two posting, it was lights outs.

So I thought I was a rock star

   Usual drill, putting everything in the appropriate pannier, double check the room, attach everything to the bike, dial up the new route and pedal off toward my next destination.  Nine o’clock came and Do Lu Ong was a thing of the past.  A misty day, I rode along cranking off the Kilometers. Coming up to a large memorial of some sort, I saw a long line a students crossing the street to this memorial. Curious about what it was all about, I pedaled up a granite ramp and rode towards these large granite depictions of war hero’s marching innto battle with arms at the ready very typical of Soviet architecture. No sooner had I scanned the memorial than the student spotted me.  They converged on me like I was Mike Jagger.  Total surrounded me, they were excitedly talking in Vietnamese. A girl and boy started speaking English to me while the others wanted to shake my hand.   Questions and answers by the dozen followed.  My age surprised them, saying that their fathers were much young and could do what I was doing.  I encourage them not smoke, ride their bicycles not their motorbikes, work hard in school and come to America. Everyone wanted to be in a picture with me.  It was a scene like no other.  As I left they were waving and shouting good bye.  What an experience that I will never forget.
     Moving on with the goal of  my reaching Duc Tho, the sky opened up into a nasty misty rain. Duc Tho seemed elusive and I was wet and tired.  A nothing town eventually came into site where I prayed there was a hotel.  With the usual ride up and down the street trying to decipher the Vietnamese directions, I finally found hotel down a dirt drive way in back the Main Street mom and pop third world  stores.  It faced rice paddies but for all its newness, the room was stark, stone mattress and one bare light bulb to light the room. Not in a position to be fussy, I sucked it up.  However, nothing like a hot shower to bring me back to life.  After searching out a meal of noodle soup filled with whatever,  I called it a night.  Another day to chock up to adventure.
     

A good day in the countryside

    My feet clicked into the  pedals at 8:45 out of Thai Hoa.  My requirements for a hotel is it be clean and have a hot shower. Last night’s hotel was the best of the bunch. The Madame who ran the place kept it up to snuff.  The bathrooms are the deciding factor for me. Adding to the stay, the Madame was very attentive, bowl and silverware when I needed them and a gift of two oranges.  Her patronizing manorism and long dress suggested something than what she was.  Of course, I presumed innocence.
     The ride to Do Lu Ong was one of my best rides, a few climbs  but the countryside was what I had envisioned Vietnam to be.  Rice fields everywhere with mountains in the periphery and interesting topography interspersed amongst the rice paddies.  Cattle in the road, one pulling a cart with an ancient woman aboard and the farming women wearing the classic Asian shallow-pointed reed hats.
       As I arrived Do Lu Ong, it was in full swing, chaotic traffic and blaring horns. The town is a blend of classic small open front stores and modern storied huilding with interesting designs.  My hotel was in the latter with a great view of the town center intersection.  My room abutted a third store patio with a stone lava fountain.  The room did the job but the mattress is equivalent to a marble slab.  My inflatable mattress has developed a slow leak somewhere. making it less than effective.
      Finding a suitable eatery is always the challenge. Few are inviting and the food is filling but not what I would order at home.  Chopsticks, the small plastic chairs, low tables and harsh lighting addto that third world ambiance. Fortunately, I found a Korean restaurant for lunch where shoes  come off at the door and you sat on a floor cushion.  The food was excellent.  For dinner it was across the street to a typical mom and pop place with very basic low tables, plastic chairs and third world worn down look.  The food was good but more importantly I met a guy who was a combination police and fireman. His English was decent and we had a good talk about both our cultures. He would like to visit the US but can’t afford it. After exchanging emails and declining a passenger ride in his motorbike, I hoofed back to my room for a margin sleep on my concrete mattress.  Tomorrow I head south to Duc Tho.

Easy ride, nice day

 Rolled out of Yen Cat at. 9:30 leaving my negative four start hotel in my rear view mirror.  Traveling south on the Ho Chi Ming Route 15 did have the large hills I expected, at least no walkers, (pushing my bike up a hill).  One observation along the way, Vietnam is not lacking for kids,  They are everywhere. In fact, the whole population is young; very few old people.  One other interesting observation, for two days in a row, I have come across groups of prisons in green and white striped suits, escorted by two guards, one with a rifle slung over his shoulder.  One group was building a concrete block wall, the other was doing road work. Being as discreet as possible, I took a few pictures.  As a rolled by I cheerfully said hello to the guards and prisoners. All of them were very enthusiastic in return. I haven’t seem a prisoner work detail since I was eleven down in Atlanta.  Cuba and Vietnam should use them to pick all the litter and trash. It is everywhere.  Some places are fairly well cleaned up but that is the acception.  Where local farmers plant their gardens inches away from the road, the trash
is picked up. Out in the countryside it isn’t such a problem. In fact, when I was watching a Vietnamese television talk show, I decipher the topic; it was about the litter problem.
    Near the end of my ride, I passed a grammar school which was letting out. As usual, the kids enjoyed saying hello.   However, for two days running, one boy each day, about ten years old, hailed me to stop, then rode after me on their bikes. I was amazed at their tenacity. On one speed bikes, they climbed hills that I needed my granny gear to crest. Today, I motioned for the kid (Ho) to catch up as I slowed up a bit.  He repeated several times, “ I don’t speak English” but seemed interested in learning. After the basics of learning his name and age, I pointed at things and give him tmy name name and age. He repeated after me The words I had for various objects we passed and I enthusiastically praised him. He caught on quickly and we were both really into it. It was fun. Finally I stopped him for a picture. Another mile down the road, a motorbike pulled up and s teenager indicated to me that he was Ho’s brother.  It was apparent he was in trouble for not coming home on time. I rode on leaving Ho behind. He will probably never forget riding with the American on the fancy bike, learning English.  It was nice experience which I won’t forget either. A mile further down the road I arrived at Thai Hoa.  A group of young guys gathered around a road side table gave me directions to a nice hotel in the center of town. Unlike yesterday’s hotel,  this place was well kept.  A Madame-ish woman greeted me and show me the room. Last night was $15, tonight $12.50 (250.000 Dong).  On her recommendation, I had a late lunch a few storefronts down. Later I walked down the wide bussling street to see what was happening.  Motorbike stores everywhere and a collection other small stores selling anything from iPhones to clothing. After having an expresso at a cafe, then  buying more fruit and indulging myself  with a pastry, I  headed back.  Dinner followed several hours later.  This time at a place down a side alley hehind the main drag.  What a struggle it is trying to order something that is familiar. At least back at the hotel, the Madame was very helpful and seemed to catch on to whatever I needed.  She even bestowed upon me two oranges.  Tomorrow it is forty-two miles due south to Do lu ong.
   

Hills but very light traffic

  I left Thành Hoa and headed west and within a few miles the traffic began to thin out. The drivers pass each other with abandon.  Twice, I had to pull off onto the dirt to allow oncoming buses room to pass.  Only a thirty-five mile ride to the Ho Chi Ming Road.  About halfway there the topography became very scenic and the hills steeper.  No one is a fan of hills but my bike is geared for them.  Anything but the traffic of route 1. There were uniformed school children along the way alway enthusiastically call out HELLO.  In general people spot me and cheerfully greet me.  Others look at me with curiously stare.
      Only one hill I had to dismount but it was worth it.  Picture time for beautiful hills and mountains to black long horned cattle being sheparded down the road by a woman wearing the pointed cane hat, very Asian. Anyways, I arrived at the Hi Chi Ming Road thinking I had arrive at Yen Cat. There was absolutely nothing there but a small open market.  For a good ten minutes I thought I was up a creek and would need to bike another thirty miles. With my transaction app, finally I figured out that I needed to ride on the HCM road a few miles south.  Praise the lord!  I had this happen to me in Idaho where I ended up climbing twomore mountains to get a place where I could stay for the night.  It was not fun. Anyways, the town was wall to wall little shops with a few modern upscale buildings selling motorbikes and other first world items. After slowly cruising down the main drag, my attention shifted to finding a place for the night. I saw a huge sign for a hotel ride into town but couldn’t find it to save myself. Asking for help was an act of futility.  A few places were pointed out to me but ones I check out were a class A dumps. So where was the hotel advertised on the road? After traveling several miles in the wrong direction, a guy at one of the dump motels used his translation app and got me going in the right direction.  Upon arrival to what I thought would a decent place turned out to be a nice place thirty years ago.  No time to be choosy, I picked the best room. With some investment this place could be a three star hotel. Fancy lobby, high ceilings, well designed entrance with a artistic fountain with a restaurant (closed) and a large outdoor tiki bar; the elements are in place but the investors have yet to arrive.
     Had anyone spoke English, finding this place would have been a cake walk.  Seeing a bunch of grammar school kids I asked if anyone spoke English.  They hadn’t a clue as to what I was saying.  With a large portion of the world using English as an international language, particularly the developed countries, you would think Vietnam would get on the band wagon.  It will just slow up their development.  I keep forgeting  this is a communist country and they can be stubbornly backwards in their thinking.
    Cleaning up, including a properly functioning heat on demand shower, I sauntered down the road and found a hole in the wall where locals were eating (a good sign)and had myself some stir fried  rice with meat and some rice noodles soup with beef.  Two beers helped.  For the road, I picked several oranges and a mango at a local open front store, all for $1.25.  Fruit is always one of my cravings when I am on the road, something very quenching about eating fruit.
    Back at the hotel, it was nap time followed by two movies on an English speaking station. HBO for free, go figure.  Also, at $3/minute I almost solved a cash transfer problem which will allow me to  get more Vietnamese Dong. With an eleven hour time zone difference, my window of opportunity is 9;00 to about 10:30 when I pass out.  My mainland phone is on call forwarding so I won’t rack up a huge phone bill.  Turning it off to talk to the bank is frustrating because they put you on hold, then you speak with someone from India!
    Tomorrow I ride south to Thái Hao.

A day to catch up, another flat

      Upon arrival in Thành Bao my bike was covered in mud, my bags equally a mess and my legs covered and pants covered with grease and dirt.  I had a few stares as I walked in the hotel but I was too tired to care.  Once checked in, I began the debunking followed by dinner and a deep sleep. The ride on route 1 was stressful compounded by my diminished energy level.  The next, a couple of essential things needed doing.  With almost no hotels and restaurants accepting credit cards, my reserve of Vietnamese dong was dwindling.  Chancing the ATM the city center, I was able on my second try get three million Dong ($140).  Now, how to transfer funds at home to my credit card checking accounts.  Hopefully my bank apps will work.  At home, my S.O., Kate, has all my pertinent information. With some hoops to jump, we should be able to get the transfers worked out.  In the future I will try to use hotels that accept credit cards.  The backwater places are a problem.  The trick here is when the hotel listed online says that no credit card is required to reserve the room, that means the hotel does not accept credit card. The communists are still behind the curve here.
   Next, clean the bike. With a bucket and rag in hand, I began the task and was stunned to find I had another flat tire.  Do I need this aggravation?  The guy behind the hotel counter directed to a bike shop a few blocks down.  The puncture was a result of a tiny wire protruding on the inside of the tire.  Everything was going fine until he couldn’t locate the proper tube size.  He even drove off on his motorbike in search of one.  No luck. He ended up patching the old tube.  I have never resort to patching, instead always buying new tubes. The tire seems to be holding.  I saved the other tube which needs patching as well as another tube slightly different in save which might save me.  I will be stopping at every bike store in search of the right size tube.
     With route 1 being a jungle of trucks, cars, buses and motorbikes all blasting their horns, I have decided to ride across a narrow part of Vietnam from Thành Boa west to Dong Tau. The national park  I will be riding through is beautiful.  More hills but anything is better than Route 1. Pray that my rear tire holds up.
   Wrapping up the day, two women I met, here on maternity health research, one Vietnamese and one a mixture of French, German and Vietnamese ( Marianne and Von/Van) and I went out for dinner.  With no one speaking English, I have felt somewhat isolated in a strange country.  It was good to speak English without resorting to my translation app and sign language.
 

First flat tire

  I pushed off at 8:30 from Vinh Binh and was making decent progress on route 1, the country’s main artery thus a heavily traveled road. Just as I met a fellow touring bicyclist, from Belgium, I had a flat tire. Super bummer.  The Belgium hung around for a few minutes and seeing that I was ok moved on.  I could have used the company seeing as no one speaks English.  Such is life.   With all the wet dirt on the road, my bike was a filthy mess.  Fixing a flat is a major production, remove all the bags, remove the rear wheel complicated by the derailleur and struggle getting the tire off the rim.  Everyone has a bike in Vietnam; two men were there shortly to lend a hand. My previous tires were much large, equipped with heavy duty inner tubes.  Feeling that these tires and weight of the inner tube was created too much drag, I switched over to a narrower tire with the standard tube.  The new tires have a pretective later to help prevent flats, hence the are called “flatless”.  This repair took an hour and a half out of my day I will never get back. This included back tracking three miles to buy two additional tubes in case I get another flat.
  Today I had been dragging a bit. As well, the hills became mire frequent.  Four days on the road, putting in two sixty-five miles was not the proper way to get into the groove.  For my Florida ride I start off at thirty-three miles.  Another problem with being on main with the never ending blast of air horns from buses and trucks.  The motorbikes are totally fearless and everywhere, dodging in and out between the four wheel vehicles.  I witnessed my first accident. A car turn left and the motorbike t-boned the car, no one was hurt.  Amazely, the car never stopped..  Later in the day, a large truck was stopped in the middle of the lane and behind it was a pile stuff that once attached to a bicycle or motorbike. The two wheel was not present  but it was fairly obvious what happened.  Needless to say, I am ever on guard and keep to the right.  My flagged attached to the rear rack protruding put to the left and my rear view mirror attached to my glasses are absolutely essential to my safely  on the road.  Caution operative safety tip.
   Upon arrival in Thành Hoa, a major city, I went through my usual drill and found a nice coffee shop to decompress in and find a hotel.  Last night I did some homework so I know where I was staying.  Feeling a bit burned out, I made the decision to stay two night to rest up. Wash my clothes, clean the bike and rest up.  Four days straight on the road in this country is work out; not as tough as Cuba but close.  One of the issues I need to deal with is getting more Vietnamese currency (the Dong).  Everything from food to lodging is super cheap but few use credit cards. Cash is running low.  Hopefully one of my credit cards with the necessary pin will work on an ATM.  You never know in a third world country.
    Tomorrow my strategy will be find secondary roads where the constant noise from trucks and cars will be less.  Seeing the blue sky is another factor.  Everyone wears masked and I suspect pollution is a major contributor.  Like China, Vietnam is rapidly developing with the resulting pollution.  Perhaps I should buy a mask like the natives do.

Incredible kindness from a total stranger

  7:30 and Vinh Boa was a thing of the past.  Valuable lesson learned, make sure to end up in a place where adequate lodging exists. Another lesson, if signs indicate your destination and the road is good, stay on it.  Using my GPS where a bicycle route is not available, chances are the route will lead you away from the small village roads onto the primary roads. What are a few extra mile? GPS was full of you-know-what once again. Using my paper map and compass, I turned off onto a small road and made my way through one village after another, somewhat apprehensive as to where I was actually
headed. Sudden out of nowhere, one of the laden down motorbikes passerbys came up parallel to me and started speaking Vietnamese, motioning with her hand.  We both stopped, out of a large  cucumber bag, she pulled out several and stuffed them in my bar bag. Motioning that she feed me lunch I followed her for several miles down tiny roads flank by rice fields.  She stopped periodically to make sure I was alright. We arrived at a small hamlet and around the corner was her very humble abode, I mean a small stone and stucco, thatched roof house that was what I thought was for livestock.  Along the way she had stopped at local market stands to buy varies food items. Everyone seemed to know her.  From the looks of the people, who gave me big smiles, this woman was relating to how she had found this lost American and was rescuing him. Not more than a few minutes after my arrival, the neighbors arrived, all fascinated as to who I was.  Thank gog for my translation app, at least I could communicate other than using my hands.  The woman gave me her name but it was so strange I couldn’t pronounce it, not could I remember it.  Looking like she was in her early twenties, I learned she was forty-two with a twenty year old son. In fact, she was a farmer.  Her parents were deceased and I got the feeling I was her future husband.  Just so she knew, I told her I was sixty-nine. It didn’t faze her. Thinking she could communicate better, she stood about a foot away and intently jabbered at me.  After about forty-five minutes, out of no where came lunch.  Rice, processed meat,  something I didn’t recognize and some spinach-cucumber soup. She raced off on her motorbike and returned with two cans of coca-cola.  Encouraging me to eat, she kept filling up my small bowl and showing how to eat it, with chopsticks of course. We sat in dark room with the open door light shining in where we ate.  We sat on these very low plastic chairs.  On the Wall was a buddist alter with her parents’s and grandparents’ framed pictures.  After I could eat no more, we talked as best we could and I told her I had a long way to ride and had to go.  She Packed more gear onto her bike which was already a mountain of stuff and led me back to the proper route. She stopped at a very basic vegetable stand where her umbrella stood with fruit laid out just off the ground, so typical of all the farmer stands. She pointed the way just ahead.  I coukdn’t thank her enough. Taking her hand I thanked her profusely. Her hands where very rough.  Off I pedals, somewhat dazed about what had just happened. How could I return this kindness and generosity.  She indicated how her roof leaked, Perhaps, I should come back someday and put on a new roof.  It was so surreal and made a strong impression which I will never forget.
    For the next three hours I rolled along, at one point passing what I believe is the furniture manufacturing center of Vietnam. A huge garish gold and red stretch of fifty foot building sold handmade wooden furniture. As I continued, there was shop after shop building amazingly ornately carved tables, chairs, statues of horses and Buddhas.  There were buildings with huge logs and slabs of wood three feet wide. Mahogany or something close; obviously the forests are being stripped of these giants. Their market was probably China and USA. All day long trucks with shipping containers pass.  Vietnam has become a big export country. Construction of bridges, roads and manufacturing buildings are everywhere.  Let me not forgot the communist banners professing the virtues of the state and Uncle Ho. The Vietnamese red flag with a large yellow start flies everywhere.
Finally after thirty-five miles I arrived in the heart of Vinh Binh, a good size city crammed with stores with large garish neon signs.  After cruising  the main and side streets I found a coffee cafe, part of a four star hotel.  On the internet, I located a decent hotel around the corner which did the trick. The owner even provided me with a hose to wash off the build up of mud an grim in my bike. With the misty rain and road construction mud, I was covered from the knees down. After locking my bike up in a safe in door spot, the hotel help brought my gear up to my room.  What a day, I asleep by 7:30.  Sleep glorious sleep.

East is west, West is east, you can’t get there from here

  Pushed off just after 8:00 from Hai Phong.  Getting out of the city down the narrow roads jammed with people selling vegetables, meat, fish, flowers, you name it, was interesting. Motor bikes and cars weaving their way through in both directions with horns blaring.  It was an intense scene loaded with about as much local color as you can get. Once out of the crush of humanity, I though I was headed south in the right direction. Wrong!  My intent was to head south west away from the coast.  Instead I deadend at Do Son and had a maddening time figuring my way out. With no internet and a misty rain blocking out the sun, I used my compass.  One deadend ended up repeating itself. Finally at in a small estuary neighborhood where a few newly built upscale houses stood, a couple with WiFi was able to getting me headed in the right direction. Over a narrow levy road boarded by the estuary and rice fields, I wove my way back to where I was supposed to be headed.  Through one town after another and muddy roads from construction I rolled. At one intersection I came across an open front restaurant. Pushing 1:00, the fuel tank needed filling.  A young couple who could actually speak some English cooked me a stir fly with chicken soup; it was the best meal I had had Hanoi. I am not starving by any stretch but the food is far from what I used to.  Forget silverware, chopsticks exclusively with an oddly shaped spoon for decanting food from one large bowl to a smaller one for holding close to your mouth for eating.  I am learning. The young husband, the chef, insisted on having a picture of us both. The people here see me coming and are very friendly, especially the grammar school kids who love to say “hello” with me enthusiastically responding in kind, they love it.
     Back on the road, my ride went through the rice paddies with bikers and motorbikes buzzing by carrying just about everything.  One gruesome scene was that of a pig being held down, squealing horribly as a man killed it.  Not a pleasant scene and no one batted an eye.  At long last I arrive in Vinh Boa, a bustling city with horns blaring and chaotic traffic.  Like yesterday, I pulled over at a coffee cafe to find a place to stay.  The internet had zippo and with the help of the owner, with the help of my translation app, he guided me to about the only hotel in the city.  One woman on motorbike led me to the place after riding back and forth past a jumble of signs.  Modern but a small hotel, the room could have been cleaner but I wasn’t about to try for another place given my trying day of over fifty-five miles (a net gain from Hai Phong of twenty-five miles).  A real adventure through the countryside with the misty rain at first and mud which followed. A large lunch saved me from having to forage for dinner and sleep came fast. A dog, no doubt chained up outside barked all night and the roosters tuned up around 3:00.  Thank god for my air mattress, the mattresses two nights running have been one step above concrete. Onward south with a better idea of what to expect.

First real day of riding, destination Hai Phong

  Starting at 6:30 Hai rode with me out of town showing me the way.  Pointing out the way due east, we exchanged manly hugs and parted ways.  Great guy, he was so giving of his time. Despite the language barrier, he knew enough English combined with our mutual interests and experiences for us to hit it off together.  At one point I let him know I was opposed to the Vietnam war.  He seemed to accept it as if he already knew.
    Once on my own, I stayed on the busy highway almost the whole way. The breakdown lane was huge but I was still vigilante.  With each town there were frequent motorbikes going the opposing direction.  Big tractor trailers load with containers were everywhere, obviously headed for Hai Phong Harbor.  With the mix of these trucks and motorbikes, there was the constant blasting as air horns.  I took no chances and stayed to the far right, giving myself a heathy safety buffer.  As Hanoi receded the traffic thinned. In several areas I found side roads to get me away the traffic. One road led me to a long railroad bridge with narrow lanes for bikes on either side.  The guard rail was high enough but the lane was planked in wooded planks which were warped to the point of making a smooth ride next to impossible. Combining this washboard surface with a three foot wide lane forced me to get off the seat while staying on the bike; one foot on the left peddle and the other leg pushing the bike along.  Making matters worse, I started off in the oncoming traffic lane. After several motorbikes barely squeezed by,  a guy got off his motorbike and helped me lifted the front of the bike high enough so we could turn it around.  Getting to the other side left me a bit freaked out.  Though the outer railings provided protection from falling off the bridge, the height of the bridge above the water played havoc with my fear of heights.
     Along the way I got curious looks with occasional enthusiastic greetings from mostly the teenagers and grammar school kids.  After five hours on the road and only a ten minute break to eat a few bananas (the small ones) and two muffins Hai had given me, I pulled off to have lunch at one of the numerous hole the Wall eateries. No one spoken English and the food displayed was  totally alien to me, I managed to have the cook and assistant put together a meal of rice, sautéed bean sprouts and chicken and a soup broth with spinach and some strange meat ingredient. A guy poured me what appeared to be tea with ice which I had a sip of before I realized that was a no no. Ice is made of local water which may not be clean enough to safely drink. For all of a $1:50 I ate like a god. Forget the silverware, chop sticks are it. Back on the bike I rode another hour
and a half, finally rolling into Hai Phong. Another bustling city with the same crazy traffic as Hanoi. Finding an upscale coffee house, I checked in for coffee and a chocolate pastry. With a wifi connection, I found a Hotel just a mile down the road for under twenty dollars. Decent place by a park with a nicely walked in lake. The only hitch was my fourth floor room and no elevator. The heat-on-demand shower and rock hard mattress did not win at prizes. Praise Jesus I brought my inflatable mattress.  With sixty-six miles on my odometer, a long nap helped revive me enough to Allow me to find some dinner, another culinary challenge.
   Tomorrow I turn south and will ride exclusively on secondarily roads. Vietnam is very different from the western developed countries  that I am accustomed to but I am catching on.

Getting into the groove of things

 A fitful night’s sleep had me up at 4:30.  Whether it was anxiety, a rooster crowing at 3:45 or the street sweeper at 4:00, I was up for the day.  Hai met me at 7:00 on the nose, whereupon we cycled off to see the out skirts of town.  Being on my own bike with my eyeglass mirror made all the difference when it came to riding the streets with motorbikes streaking by in every direction.  Over the Mekong Delta bridge and onto dirt patches in a tropical setting of banana  and sugar cane, Hai brought me to a series of floating river houses where many of his friends lived.  About as far from luxury as you can image, a real earthy bohemian life style. Mangy dogs, litter on the shoreline, cobbled together house boats and makeshift everything.  One area was a men’s nudist vegetarian camp.  Hai insisted I walk the narrow twenty foot planks to board several of the houses. Everyone had extensive gardens growing just about everything from sugar cane to bananas to corn.
   Once back in the city, Hai took me to the Hanoi Hilton which he insisted me to see. He served forty years in the military, doing combat against the Chinese in Loas and along the Vietnam border with China. He was shot and wounded in the process. Hai is around 5’7” and in incredibly good shape, every muscle finely tuned, sixty years old and retired for four years. Next came a stop for a mid morning bowl of MY, pronounced Me, the same as I had with Dan yesterday.  I am so fortunate to have made this connection; great guy, fun to be with and totally in the know about everything Vietnamese.  From one unassuming little hole in the wall to another, he took me around through his world.  No normal tourist would have experienced what I have. Two more stops followed, one to Hai’s favorite bicycle shop down a dark covered alley to adjust my squeaking brakes and two, the catholic cathedral built by the French.  In three and a half hours, we covered a lot of territory, not to forget the insane traffic we wove through.  Upon arrival back at my micro hotel, Wing Cafe, Tuyet was there to greet me. Hai, an amazing enthusiast guy, will be a great memory for me.  It is difficult for me to express this experience. I am an definitely experiencing the inside track on what is happening in Old Hanoi. You have to be here to understand.  Old verses new Hanoi is night and day.  In the distance, I can see the high rises; apparently a new city devoid of the charm.  Dan didn’t have much good to say about it.
     With laundry to do, Tuyet walked with me to the local laundry, a small open front hole in the wall.
For a few dollars I had my clothes done for pickup 4:00.  On our way back, I found Dan at his favorite corner cafe sketching away with his watercolors onto pages of an old book written in French.  Everytime we meet, he turns to a new page and begins sketching an abstract of my face. He is so laid back but smart; our friendship is growing.  At this open cafe, various friends of various nationalities, both gay and straight stop by to chat it up.  Really fun!
     Dan and I hit the town again, scoping out numerous city haunts. We came upon one restaurant which would be our dinner spot later in the day.  Through a maze of small streets and large boulevards, he took me to an area populated with expats where we stopped for a beer at s restaurant more in keeping with the European style setting. Stopping a several  stores looking for whatever we needed including  art books for painting and trying find a portable WiFi which Hai carried on his bike. I may have to revisit this city to absorb all its little subdivisions of cultures.
   Back to the hotel and a chat with Tuyet and then a nap. Come 5:30  we had a charming dinner at the little restaurant we came across earlier.  While eating, the skies burst opened up for the first time dumping a load of rain in a short period of time. Navigating our way back around the numerous puddles had me barefoot, saving my Teva sandals.  In writing my blog,  Peter, the gay guy downstairs dropped by for another visit. A piece of work, a flamer from South Africa with a good sense of humor.  He teaches at a local school, I imagine for expats.  Tomorrow starts early as Hai will meet me at 6:30 and lead me to the outskirts of town for my ride to HyPhong about one hundred Kilometers due east.  I have a bit of anxiety about what to expect but I am confident the ride will be a fun adventure.

Trial by fire

  Dealing with jet lag in a strange country makes the acclimation difficult.  Fortunately, Dan Potter has given me a running head start in learning the ropes. Starting off around nine we rode into the center of old Hanoi.  The motor bikes clogged the street by the thousands and the rules of the road are basic: hold on and use every bit of your wits.  The locals seem totally oblivious to the constant danger of everyone passing each other in all directions.  Hold your ground and don’t do anything sudden.  You see an opening, take it and pray everyone is on the ball.  Dan goes at a leisurely pace, laid back, cutting across traffic with only the slightest opening; no rear view mirror just his zen of willing the others to yield. I am alive to talk about it.
     Our first destination was to the corner open cafe where we had some expresso and watched the street fill with people carrying shallow baskets of fruit or whatever balanced on a horizontal wooden pole over their shoulders.  The cone shaped cane hats you have seen so often in Chinese movie scenes.  Motorbikes over ladened with five times what one would consider a reasonable load. Narrow buildings packed together of French, Chinese, and Vietnamese architecture line the narrow streets. The wiring overhead is a tangle of hundreds of wire going in every direction. Dan related to me what is done to fix a wiring problem, “just add another wire”. After coffee we had for hole in a wall restaurant where we sat on the on small plastic sidewalk stools and feasted on a delicious soup of noodles, spinach of some variety and thin slices of beef in a yellow broth. As we ate, only feet away, motorbikes, bicyclists and pedestrians clogged the narrow street.  Next stop was to over sooks(sp) where whole blocks comprised hardware goods or whatever.  I needed a wrench for my bike taken by the Chinese airport TSA security. Last stop was at a monstrous Russian built marble building repurposed for the arts, elderly, wherever.  A friend of Dan’s, Zooie, played the guitar with another person a keyboard for a fifties and sixties women singing group, dressed in traditional dresses. Quite the event with everyone packed in a small classroom with excessively loud amplification.
      Upon our return, I set to work assembling my bike with the help of a bicycle fanatic friend of Dan and Tuyet, the hotel owner.  With Hai’s English poor at best and my Vietnamese none existent, we hit it off, seemingly unaware of our language barrier. The upstairs gay South African white guy, Peter, kept us entertained with his comments about how my curtains were much better in my room that in his room.  Finally with the bike assembled, Hai and I worked out a route for me to take west to the coast then south.  Apparently, route 1 is too congested with trucks and not a fun ride at all, dangerous in fact. Tomorrow we have a breakdown cruise around the outskirts of Hanoi starting at 7:00 follow by a 6:00 start the next day when I shove off for Ho Chi Ming/Saigon.  The traffic is very light at this time of morning. Finally, a good nap helped ease the
jet lag.  Ending the day, Dan and I walked a block to an Indian restaurant for diner.  We ate like Gods for only $15. 225,000 dong equals about $10!  Enough for tonight, up early tomorrow.

   

Into the heart of Hanoi

    Sixteen hours in a plane is asking a lot; two movies, three documentaries, fitful hours of sleep next to a big ape encroaching into my space, three meals, snacks, music, reading, walking the isles, hang out in the back, stretching, and on and on.  Such is the life of a long haul economy passenger.  Stacking us horizontally might have been more humane. Landed at Guangzhou, China, suffered through two more security points and kept on my toes to follow their rules.  Security everywhere with TV screens showing cartoon clips of terrorist situations.  Nice modern airport but I did not get that warm fuzzy feeling.  Burger King was front and present so I indulged myself with a somewhat healthy meal.  Is that a contradiction in terms?  My first and only encounter with the Chinese Yuan. After a four hour layover and a shave in the bathroom, I boarded for Hanoi onto a much smaller jet, four seats across.  Flying over the red tile rooftops along our final descent into Hanoi , I could see a third world country awaited me. Landing at the Havana airport still takes the prize.
      After shedding my turtleneck and longjohns, I waded into the mass of humanity in the central terminal.  My bags made it and my visa and passport withstood the scrutinizing eye of the immigration official. Thanks to Dan Potter I had a running head start on what to expect.  Lyft, Uber, and Grab were useless so I found a taxi van which charged me the anticipated rate into town, 550,000 Dong or $22.  Dan FaceTimed me on the drive into Hanoi proper and later greeted me outside his funky micro hotel.  Getting there required weaving through a maze of inner city narrow streets .  He was outside at a curbside table where he sat me down for some local tea. The adventure was just beginning, finally out of my comfort zone,  BRING IT ON!  Motorbikes everywhere, people hawking there wares, this place is alive.  On Dan’s insistence, I change into riding cloths and off we bicycled into the insane traffic to buy a  burner phone..  He road slowly, and as if magic, wove his way through hordes of screaming motor bikes, truly an insane experience.  Finally with the new phone in left pocket, we continued on to one of his favorite hole in the wall cafes which was totally charming.  A local cold beer eased me into my new environment.  Next came the local market to pick up some breakfast basics.  Communication being one of my stumbling blocks, Dan got me going on the basics e.g.,thanks:Cam on; bathroom:WC or toilet in French.  So much to learn and nothing like total immersion right out of the blocks, jet lag aside? Finally a rest in my third floor room and bath, (two rooms per floor, six floors). I lost consciousness for a good two hours and with a Herculean effort got myself vertical for an evening out having dinner at a local neighborhood restaurant. At Dan’s insistence, I tried several dishes, chopsticks included.  He knows everything and everyone and threw me headfirst into it.  At 22:00 hours, I was crispy around the edges and crumbled into bed.  Now to assembly my bike and ease into the Hanoi scene. What a day!

All systems are GO for Vietnam

   Arriving home from my Florida trip January 12, didn’t give me much turn around for my trip to Vietnam.  Pay off the Florida bills and then work like a madman to generate enough funds to get away for five weeks to bicycle Vietnam.  Rather than unpack, the panniers stayed out where I could wash and repack all the gear. As for the bike, the cracked rear rim and spokes were replaced along with new cables and bar tape.  Had I ridden much further on my Florida trip, the creaking sound I kept hearing would have mushroomed into a catastrophic failure of the rear wheel.  My thanks to Erik LaFramboise for finding the crack in the rim.
     With bills paid forward and everything packed, my sister, Ellen, drove me down to the Greyhound station where I boarded a bus for NYC.  Despite the snow, it arrived in the Big Apple on schedule.  With bags in tow, I caught a Uber to my niece and husband’s apartment where five of us, Sarah, Andrew, Catherine and Chelsea and I went out for dinner after a few beers at their apartment.  Brooklyn Heights has a nice feel to it and their view from the sixteenth floor included Lady Liberty and the Manhattan skyline.  Not bad at all.
     Another Uber to JFK/China Southern Airlines started the lengthy check in process that dragged out for over two hours. Wading through a sea of humanity along with dragging my mountain of luggage took its toll on me.  The international terminal is a zoo with every species of human imaginable pact in like sardines.  With a sixteen hour flight to Guangzhou, China looming large,  I can see that my state of being will be somewhat altered for the worse when ultimately I arrive in Hanoi.  Am I having fun yet?