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?

Last day in Paradise

   Will and I riding our own bikes and not the beach cruisers, gave us a certain local look.  After visiting Fort Taylor and the oldest house I town (the name eludes me), we found a very laid back Cajun restaurant with the best jambalaya I have ever had. Devoid of tourists made for a peaceful lunch.  That evening after a brew at the Green Parrot, filled with locals, we met Hank and Kathy back at the hostel for a small jam session between Will and his guitar and Hank and his Ukulele, down by the pool. Before crashing for the evening, I packed, showered and shaved so I could make a quick getaway to the airport to pick up my rented car.   Three days gave me a good feel for Key West. The island is bustling with tourists to the point that I do not know why people pay millions for houses when there is hardly any privacy and quiet.  Development has been halted by the State of Florida because the exposure the Keys have to the hurricanes and only one evacuation route.
    Tomorrow, I drive 550 miles north to Jacksonville and to my reserved Airbnb where I will pack up and fly back to the cold of New England.  I wish I could have kept on bicycling.  Vietnam awaits.

Hanging out in Key West

     Why walk when you can see the city by bicycle. Returning to the rooster store, I had a fun time buying a few amusing items, high quality stuff.  Next off to the coach luggage store where I made the uncharacteristic decision to purchase a small woman’s wallet. Tired of the same old men’s wallets which never have enough room and can’t take the abuse, I sprung for a wallet which was seventy percent off.  Some how I will disguise the gold coach symbol, least my friends get the wrong idea. Practicability was the motive. Next stop, the airport to double check my car rental which I extended to two days at essentially the same price.  This gives me the extra time to stop off to visit my cousin Niffy in Boca Ratan (Rat’s mouth).
      Back at the hostel, one of my room mates, Will Roberts, very familiar with Key West, his fifth visittook me to “Sunset Celebration” on Mallory Square. Later, we went over to Hog’s Breath for a few brews and listened to a decent singer sing the standard Jimmy Buffet tunes and others related to Key West.  Rendezvoused with Hank and Kathy for dinner at Harpoon Harry’s, a fun time was had by all. Tomorrow, Will and I will check out Fort Zackery Taylor and the oldest house in town,1828.

End of the road, Key West

  Up at 6:00, got it together, bid Hank and Kathy farewell and started rolling for Key West 35 miles west.  Easy going, no tourists on the road; the miles clicked off rapidly until Key West appeared.  My introduction to the town was deafening Navy F15 roaring overhead doing touch and goes at the naval base on the Island.  Rode to the bitter end of route one and then found the giant land bound buoy marking the southern most Point in the United States.  A line stretching fifty feet were those tourists wanting a picture of buoy and themselves, me included.  Making friends along the way was instrumental in getting someone to snap my picture.  I stood out because I was on a bike, sweat head to toe. Humidity the last two days has kept me sweating profusely. From the buoy I navigated over to my hostel, NYAH (not your average Hostel) on 320 Margaret Street. Great place with a classic Key West facade, modern interior including three pools, one being a hot tube. After a swim with my riding shorts, I changed over to my civilian clothes and headed down the street to Harpoon Harry’s for lunch, a laid back diner atmospheric place. Check in was 16:00 and my rooom was wonderful. Very well laid out with three spacious bunks with a nice bath and large shower.  After a much needed nap, there was a happy hour on premise where I had a beer, cheese, etc..  I walked downtown and took in the street life, outdoor restaurants with live entertainment, art galleries and, of course, the tourist stores selling pork pie hats, flamming gay shirts and a bakery selling six dollar massive cookies. With a roosters everywhere, naturally there was a rooster store selling funny items related to the bird. What a riot; needless to say I had a good time picking and choosing. I found my way home and sacked out. Tomorrow I bicycle the town.

Did the seven mile bridge

   Blew out of Curry Hammock State at 7:55 with the mission of getting over the seven mile bridge before the crazy tourists hit it.. What I was told would be s ten mile ride to the bridge turned out to be five.  Once own the bridge, I had five feet of shoulder with s Jersey barrier on the outside, not high enough to give me a feeling of safety. A lot of water lay below which I wanted no part of ever, ever.  The cars and trucks passing me gave me room and most of them were commuters. There were no gigantic motor homes with car in tow passing me with little room to spare. The traffic was spread out giving me a chance to ride unhindered.  The road was flat with no wind allowing me to keep my speed up over fouteen mph.  The miles went quickly thank god. Once over the bridge, I could relax. Hank and Kathy Greer wanted to check out Bahai Honda State Park for a place to camp. A mile down the road I found the place and was able to secure a site for the three of us.  Had I waiting for Kathy to wake up, chances are we would have been SOL. Until check in, I scoped the park out, had a late breakfast and hung out. Not much dhade because hurricane Irma had wiped out countless trees. The site tried out to be the furthest site out on the peninsula, giving us plenty of privacy.  Hank and Kathy showed up at 14:50.  I had given up on them,thinking they had continued on to the Naval base in Key West. Hank was retired Air Force snd could stay on the base for free.  Turns out they had a late breakfast with a few mimosa.  They pitched their tent, passed on a shower until later and caught the local bus with me to an oasis six miles down the road.  We indulged in an early dinner, talking about our children. Two boys and a girl for them and my two kept us jabbering for most of the evening.  Caught the bus back, where upon I adjourned for the evening. They showered.
    Tomorrow, thirty five miles to Key West, the end of the line.

Longest ride of the trip

  Up early, left the Florida City hostel by 7:35 then stop for a quick bite at Burger King, kept it basic and healthy.  The temperature dropped last night and was in the fifties when I left. Great Hostel I stayed in, Hoosville, which I would recommend to any cyclist or bohemian.  I have grown rather attached to these places, funky and loaded with interesting people from all over the world.  The twenty-four mile through the Everglades was totally fenced in.  Probably to keep the Alligators and other such animals off the road.  Any reasonable person would not venture to far off the road into the swamps, not me at least.
    I arrived at Key Largo in less than two hours and judging from all the tourist honky-tonk advertising and stores, it was no place I wanted to stop.  The riding was easy so I kept moving along from one Key to another.  With each mile, the visual improved particularly with the private homes.  For a good portion of the way, there was a nice pathway keeping the traffic at a distance.  Several long bridges only provided a five foot shoulder with a jersey barrier on the outer edge.  I stuck to the middle of the shoulder and kept a constant eye on the traffic coming up on me. A little nerve racking but manageable.  Being Sunday, the RVs and other tourists crowded the road.  After four hours, I crested fifty miles, that is moving right along. Just after noon I pulled into a convenience store for a fifty minute lunch break. Feeling pretty good, I pushed on until around 2:30 when I decided it was time to find a place. Stopping off at the Jolly Roger RV site, I was blown away by the price for a tent site, $82.50 per night.  As polite as I could, I asked if there was any place less expensive. Praise Jesus, the woman at the counter called a nearby state park, Curry Hammock State Park. Being only a cyclist, the park said they would carve out a spot for me. Goggle gps jerked me around for a few extra miles but I finally arrived at the place with seventy-three miles on my odometer. Nice place by the ocean, terrific facilities and only $22. The park ranger asked that I not put up my tent until sunset when all the beach goers would be gone.  The no-see-ems came out in force, so with a little bug spray and fast work, I set up the rent and climbed in.  Just before I adjourned for the evening, two bicyclists, a couple, rode up to set up next to me. The guy said he knew me.”You live by a lighthouse, right?” Sure enough, in September they had stayed at my house on there way down the coast, small world. Tomorrow they are riding to a Key thirty miles away where they will try to stay at another state site. So I will be joining them. The idea here is to avoid the  high price of lodging while closing in on Key West.  I have yet to hear from two Warmshowers hosts I sent requests to last night who live in Key West.  Up early tomorrow to get over the seven mile bridge before the crazy tourists get on the road.