Day 86: Castaway Island ... muahahaha

View from our Cabin on the Boat

Awake abruptly, cabin mate's destroying the toilet, no biggie, can't smell, but here lies the problem - nose running like a faucet, need to blow.  Patiently wait and wait and wait. "Yo Deano, know where the toilet paper is?" Yeah bro, Above the towel rack, know where the courtesy flush is? "The what?" Courtesy flush. Come on now, you must have that in England. "Nope, but kinda busy as of now." Yeah, it's why I mention it. Basically while your dropping your load, you flush the toilet after each release, minimizes the odor. "Why would I do that? You love the smell." You're not well.

Karst

Pack my bag and head to breakfast. It's what you'd expect, eggs, bread, jam, and bananas. Buy a water, had I mentioned no drinks are provided on this boat, and the only cold ones are beer? Relinquish the key by 8, and we are on our way. The bay only gets better, limestone islands stretching to the sky, some resting on the smallest of bases, hidden secluded beaches through coves or swim throughs. The sun still refuses to come play, billowing gray clouds blanket the sky. Boat stops, another smaller one pulls alongside, "All those to Castaway Island, that boat." We transfer and continue on, through more and more massive outcroppings and islands, scenery is brilliant, by 10:45, 3 hours after pulling up anchor, we arrive, Castaway Island. It's just a few open air huts, mattress pads, and mossi nets. The bar is the best constructed building on the premise, surprise surprise. So here we are, secluded beach, all to ourselves, this should be rather adventurous!

Castaway Island

The mist drizzle has decided to join us here as well. Even so, the view is spectacular. We are allowed to pick some kind of watersport, either wake boarding or tubing, with the condition of my palms, I opt for tubing. Jump on the speed boat, air temp is maybe 60, water is 70, and I have no warm clothing on the island to change into, remind me, why am I doing this again? My turn, doubles tube, Amir jumps into the water to join me. The driver is a Vietnamese guy with clearly no concept of liability or limits, his whole goal is to destroy. If he knocks one off, you do not want to be the last one on, he will do whatever it takes to end you ... Seriously scary. Amir tucks his one hand under mine, we do the cross cross arm thing, grab for the wide handle and off we go. Picks up speed, we are in the middle, no biggie, swings us outside and accelerates, ok, pulls us back across severally times seeming to accelerate, fingers are starting to ache.

Amir and I's death r

Almost lose Amir once or twice, he miraculously holds on, driver throws us into a figure 8, goes wide throws down the throttle, we are jolted but still on, now he's pissed, full throttle takes us back an forth across the wake, feet dragging, hands gripping, we survive, slows for a moment, slack in the rope, full throttle, not sure how it happens, both up us feel like the tube was yanked from below us. My wounds have reopened, my fingers show signs of bruising as do my feet, good thing the waters chilly. I'm done, the boat picks me up, kamikaze driver makes quip at me  about boat not being fast enough, did I ever say that? I asked why only 5 people were going, guide says because it would be too heavy, so I reply, oh, we'd be too slow. All the local heard was SLOW ... So that ride was about vengance? Pull the tube back in, the entire fabric covering is shredded, from handles down it has literally been torn off save one small connection near the back, excess dragging in the water, half deflated. Yep, we broke it, eh, kamikaze driver broke it, serves him right for trying to kill us.

Boat ride back, you realize how beautiful and serene the bay is, water is glass, not a soul stirring save a few hunting birds and the occassional jumping fish. God's creativity again amazes me.

Return, attempt to warm up, still overcast, slight chilly breeze, open air everything, no where to hide, to warm up, no hot showers, only solace is in your sleeping bags. Recline for a nap before dinner, I think we are having ... you guessed it, fish. Veggies again. A healthy game of "I never" teaches us much about our fellow adventures, especially since it was made into a drinking game. Not sure if you are to drink if you have or have not, so we just drank. Drinks were for purchase, so I stuck with sprite or water ... yeah, I am crazy like that. Night fell, I hear a scream, look over our shoulder to see a girl running from a local holding a 10 inch long centipede. Apparently they are very poisonous, and though not deadly, can render it's victim in much pain. Uh ... that's enough of the locals for one day, I am heading to bed ... but there is no lights, no moon, I'm barefoot and there are large centipedes roaming the island ... Marie to the rescue. Sporting a mini flash light, staying under my palapa, we navigated our way back, snuggled under our respective mozzi nets in our camo bags and drifted off to lala land.

Nite - iphone Blogger

Day 85: Sleeper train - Hanoi - Halong Bay - Pirate Ships!

Back in Hanoi ...

Awake, bright lights of my cabin blazing in my eyes. Finicky sleep all night long, beds were surprisingly firm yet still comfortable. It's 4am, trains to arrive at 5, is it possible we're early? Look out window, this isn't the train station, car starts to move again, light remains on. The Vietnamese couple start to gather their belongings, that's a good sign, follow suit.

20 minutes later we pull into the station, exit, hail a taxi, arrive at Hanoi Backpackers by 4:45am. The night guard lets us into the luggage storage closet, grab our big bags, he checks the tags, and the clothes sorting/swapping begins. Hope it's warm, have not a lick of clean warm clothing left. Bag up my muddy, abused wears of the previous 4 days, will have it laundered while I'm gone to Halong Bay, place my still muddy wet shoes in a separate bag, that will have to stay.

By 5:15am everything is sorted, but we cannot check our big bags back in until 6am, so we stack all of our stuff in a corner and head to the HSBC ATM around the corner, still have to pay for the night train and the coming boat adventure.

By 7:30, I've paid for the trip, paid for my laundry, stored my big bag, placed nasty shoes on top of bag to dry, sure to smell up the room, guy from the Minsk rental place just showed up. Confusion about the bill, show charges of $100usd for the train, but we had discussed previously that the extra day rental we paid for in advance is to be knocked off the bill, leaving a total of 836,000 dong each, not 940,000. Will pays it, however, there is a little matter of 500,000 dong that needs to be addressed with my bill.

If you recall, yesterday morning I spent 3 1/2 hours and 660,000 dong at the mechanics, 160,000 to fix parts from my accident, thats on me, 500,000 for the cylindrical electric part, something that does not break in an accident, should not break save the age of the part or bike, thus on them. The guy picking up the cash was obviously not a decision maker, was unaware of all these conversations with Thu at the home office. Pulled out my receipt, said I'm not paying the full amount, it's supposed to be discounted. He looked at the receipt, makes a call with his phone, in a loud agitated voice goes on about it to the other end. By this point I have a hostel worker with a good grasp of English to explain. Mr. Huong, the manager comes over, "we gave you spare parts, why you pay for this part?" It was not in the bag, and you spoke with him yesterday, said it was ok. "I never spoke with anyone, did you use my cell? I said for emergencies." Yiu said if we had a major accident, needed a hospital, to call it, but only for emergencies. Regardless, this is where the part is that he replaced. He said he spoke with you, we called the office, he said you are friends, figure it out. "I know him, I will call him, but might take a bit to straighten out." I'm leaving for Halong Bay in 5 minutes so figure it out, be back on Sunday. And with that, we shook hands, will finish the story on Sunday.

It was raining when we left Lao Cai last night, it was overcast when we arrived in Hanoi this morning, and now, sky opens up, blurgh. Yo Henry (he's our tour guy), is it going to be rainy and chilly in Halong Bay? "Nope, there are two different patterns of weather, here and there. It'll be sunny, you can count on that." We arrive, stinging sideways downpour, me thinks someone was speaking out of his arse.

Halong Bay Junk Boat

Get shuttled to the boat, very nice one at that, old wood pirate-style sailing boat, clearly powered by diesel motors, blek, come to think of it, are there any sails? Halong Bay is glassy smooth, the limestone karsts launching up out of the ocean, as if to say hello. In the distance, what looks like a mountain range, in reality, just layers of these small islands. The rain has stopped, it's overcast, fog is seen over the tops of the distant peaks, there is something eerie and beautiful about this place ... Pirate's of the Carribean anyone?

"Alright then, whose first?" How cold is the water Henry? "It's warm, jump in." We are on the third level, a good 25 to 30 feet up, here goes nothing, Woooo Hoooo ... Splash, woah woah woah. It's cold, almost freezing, no sun, what the... race for the ladder, up and out as others start to make the plunge. My brits think it's fine ... they would.

Kayaking

20 minutes later, the Kayaks show up, I partner with Will and off we go. If you're still for a moment, just staring at the sea/landscape all around, smoothly coasting at water level, feels other worldly. Like a dream sequence. The last few days of Vietnam have been very much that to me, other worldly. I can see why people fall in love with it. After the rest catch up, we head a good mile or two around a few outcroppings and stumble upon a large cave. We take to exploring, cave gets darker, one flashlight among the group, my hand wounds completely uncovered, slip, slice, BLEEP! Glad we are not on the amazon.

Floating Village

Next stop, a fishing village on the water tucked into a cove, moored to the rocks, floating shacks. It's beautiful in it's simplicity, little kids jumping from shack barge to shack barge, vicious teeth bearing dogs barking on their edges.  Makes you wonder who these people are, how they got here, will their children ever leave ...

Sunlight is escaping, race back to the boat, if you can find it. The bay is littered with classic sailing boats, schoolers, and yachts, resting peacefully, all with a similar style to ours, uh, which one is ours? Anyone? I think I see it way off in the distance, could it be, but that's so far, it is. Time to get our paddle on.

Reach the boat after much consternation, forearms burning, bones chilled completely through, hop on board, shower up, dinner time. Family style, majority being freshly caught fish products ... ideal for my seafood allergies ... veggies it is. Drinking games ensue, full bar with drink deals, begin in our own clusters, having a blast. Henry decides to clear out the tables and make one big drinking game ... one that no one understands ... we wait for it to get fun ... fail. Tired, need my rest, retire to my cabin, put in my tunes, work on this blog ...

Nite - the iphone Blogger

Day 84: Day 4 of Minsk Adventure - Race Against Time

Wake up at half five, 5:30am for us Americans, check our rinsed jeans and shoes, now only damp, no choice, put them on. Pack, grab light breakfast, quick chat with other English speakers. Discover the mud does not end at Muong Lay, the highway coming through is in the foundation stage, we have another 50 km of of mud, silt, clay to forge through before the concrete returns. Expect major delays along the way, bridges steep areas, basically anywhere extra infrastructure is required, good thing we are up early. Even so, should be in Sapa by 2, grab lunch, then only 25 km to Lao Cai, drop off bikes for night train by 4, easy breezy.

Pack the bikes, get clear directions, hop on bikes, let's go. Clug clug clug ...clug clug clug, sputter. Uh oh, both bikes won't start ... mechanic?  First mechanic, tweaks Will's bike, vroom, takes it for a spin, it's fine, even fixes headlight. Laughs at my steering wheel, steps over the front wheel, hard jerk to the left, it's aligned ... that's it? Ignores the hanging light, after some work, vroom, woo hoo, 10 yards later, sputter, done. Blurgh! "Mechanic, down there." Huh? "Follow son, mechanic, there." Wait, are you telling me you are not the mechanic? What the what! Follow his son, it's now 7:30am, we were leaving at 6 ... new mechanic knows the rental company from Hanoi. To fix everything, the turn signals, the front light, the problem with electrical and carborator issues, 660,000 dong ($33). Deal, vroom, now 9:30am, 4 hours gone, and off we go, both bikes in working condition.

Waiting at a construction stop

Call the rental company, delayed, might not be in Lao Cai by 4pm. Seven? Deal.  Sun is out, we dealt with insane mud last night, little more does not scare us. 2 km into the ride, we sit still staring up at a red clay hill, at least 1 to 2 km long, 12% grade, 12 to 24 inches deep. Well Will, we wanted adventure, if the locals can do it ...  30 minutes later, minimum of 10 falls, clay up to our knees, no complete lay downs, several expletives, no local bus collisions, success.

Press on, red clay oscillates with gray silt, start, stop, construction, start, slow down, steep decline, pure silt, tight corners, 500 feet drop offs, speed up, huge bumps, body and hands detach, reach, pull self back, stop, local returns dislodged back pack 100 meters back on ground, that would of sucked. 40 km, 5 construction delays, numerous steep inclines/declines, both legs covered in mud/clay/silt to the knee, no lay downs, 2 bag retrievals, 3 1/2 hours ... and we reach it, proper concrete roads. Only 140km to Sapa.

The first portion of the day was all about the skilled driving, something both Will and I developed. The second half is all about speed. Barely a 2 lane road hugging mountains, paralleling canyons and rivers, climbing, falling, hairpin turns, full throttle, passing slower traffic, avoiding blind corner passing, asphalt, concrete, dirt, caliche, crossing small streams ... it was epic. And the views ... from rice laced mountain basins, willowy long hair-like grass covered hill sides, to rivers shredding otherworldly house-sized boulders with the occasional 200 foot cliffs edge waterfall, every turn brought a new awe.

Entering Sapa

Arrive in Sapa just after 4, sun shining, large thunderclouds looming on the horizon. Famished, so we eat, another weak attempt at an American style pizza, banner and product do not match. And then begins the drizzle. 5:30pm, we have 1 1/2 hours, 25 km to reach our final destination, the train station, Lao Cai. - no problem, right?

Pop on our poncho's, hop on our hogs, drizzle is officially rain, guess third potion is skill driving ... again. 5km down the road, after much confusion, we are on the right road, rain is blowing sidewards, Will's breaks are failing, handling breaks lightly relying on the shift deceleration, my headlight fails, sun is blocked out by dark thunderheads, I start to sing. Singing helps me relax, though I can't remember a single word of any song, so lots of humming and nonsense. 10km, see brake lights, blind curve, slow, several cars passing on my side of the road, turn more, there it is. A bike, folded in half, big rig blocking traffic, apparently the culprit. No ambulance, people staring, no body ... press on, more nervous than ever. Rolling into Lao Cai, skies still shedding tears, thunder subsided, road expands, where is the train station. Pull over pay a random to use their computer and internet to pull up email and get directions. "For 200,000 I show you." Uh ... we just paid you to use your computer to print directions, it's only 3 1/2km ... we got it.

16km, 4 turn back/regroups, 30 minutes later, we find our contact outside local hotel, looking like wet dogs who've been playing in mud all day. Shower? "25,000 each" ... About a $1.10 - deal. They take the bikes, we shower, change, plastic bags for shoes, clothes, buy sandals, grab tickets, make a run for the station, 100 yards away. Find our bunks, take our sleep aid, say hello to our non-English speaking bunk mates, and pass out.

Nite nite - iphone blogger out!

Day 83 (part 2): Day 3 of Minsk Adventure - A Top Ten Day of my Life

A few km outside Muong Lay - road turns to dirt

Reach Muong Lay expecting it to be a huge town ... it is not. It is getting dark, it's been a slower ride than expected because of road conditions. The last 15 km into town is a straight decent, hugging the mountains, sheer 1000 - 3000ft drops on one side, rocky ledge climbing straight up on the other. Last 5 km is under construction, the surface 6 inch deep mud. Ideal jacked up bike conditions. Literally Muong Lay is a 100 meter long street, warungs lining either side, mud mixed with asphalt road. We pull over, excuse me, where is Muong Lay? How do we get to Muong Lay? "Muong Lay". No, no, we're looking for a hotel in Muong Lay. "Yes, hotel Myong Lay", as she points down a small alley.

About a km from Muong Lay

Will laughs at me, "Mate, they don't know English, no need to speak so proper, just use one word. Like Muong Lay." Uh, that's two words. "You're too formal mate, just say, town or road or mechanic." How about hotel? "Good".  She again points down alley. We dismiss her.

From above we had seen a bigger city across a river with proper concrete structures a few km from this mining town, that has to be Muong Lay. Will takes the lead, press on towards the concrete city, asphalt quickly turns to mud again, mud goes from 1 to 6 inches deep, then 12 inches, trying to stay in the big rig tire ruts, lights still not working, hands and elbows scabbed over, sun setting quickly, steering wheel askew.

1 km away, Will turns down a hill towards grouping of shanti's, muddy deeply-rutted road stretching towards proper town. Stops at gaggle of teenagers,  points towards the concrete town and the road, "Town?" Kids nod. Will, you sure about that? He takes off, kids laugh, call out to other friends, they appear out of nowhere. Me thinks something's awry, I hang back to watch.

Will's fairing well, ruts getting deeper, 25 yards, 50 yards, progresses, wait, where's Will? Splash, bang, Will and bike pop back up, try to stop, not so quick, momentum forward, gone again, splash, bang, pops back up. Mud is everywhere, Will freezes, kids rolling on the ground, I barely get out the words between laughter, WILL, THERE IS ANOTHER WAY, COME BACK! Will clearly shaken, hesitantly turns bike back, splash, bang. 5 minutes later, slowly, he pulls up, kids scatter, he smiles. Mud coated from waist and motorcycle down, splatter on face and everything else. Let's try the other one.

The Bridge to not Muong Lay

Like fish in a stream, back up the hill, continue towards proper town, following the locals. And there it is, stretching a 100 yards, 50 feet above the river, enough room for 2 bikes to barely pass, our only way to the town. Follow the bikes down a tight s curve to the base of the Indiana Jones bridge, nerves awry, bikes passing each other, inches from collision. Uh ... slowly proceed, I first, Will 2nd, pass 4 or 5 bikes, who am I, where are we, seriously! Reach the other side, unreal, avoid big rigs on the mud hill to the concrete roads, we've made it! Sun is down, we mull around the streets, stopping locals, Hotel? Strange looks, no response. Town is deceiving, from above it looks bustling, full of proper buildings and life, but on ground level, looks like a ghost town, shells of building, largest being a school. "You Lost?" Was that English, turn to find the one English speaking local, studied in the states, informs us the only hotel is in Muong Lay, 3 km back ... that's right, the mining town.

My headlight is broken and dangling, Will's is mud coated, night has fully set in, light cloud cover, no moon to be seen. Back we go, down the mud hill, traverse the wood planked swinging bridge, up the s-curve, into the 12 inch deep mud ruts, avoiding the dirt moving semi's, following the light of other bikes, turn on the main street, down an alley, and there it is, 50 feet from where we started ... the hotel. Hose off the bikes, hose off Will, our shoes, get a room ($20/nt - rip off), shower up, eat, and crawl inside mosquito netted canopies onto sagging mattresses for the night. Wow, wonder what tomorrow will bring.

Nite Nite from the iphone blogger.

Day 83 (part 1): Day 3 of Minsk Adventure - A Top Ten Day of my Life

Awake at 4am because a thunderstorm came ripping through Son La. Lightening flashing, wind wailing, rain pelting the roof and the balcony. Fall asleep, dream hard, awake at 9.

Take off, think we have 30km in our tanks, 10 minutes down road Will stops - lost his Oakley's, start to head back, stop, they're in his pocket. Turn back around, stop 10 km later, fill up, press on.

Once again, topography is breath taking, so much variety, Dr. Suess outcroppings, boobie hills, 1000 foot barren dirt slides, tall cloud covered peaks, misty valleys ... Simply unreal. Reach the top of one mountain, literally drive on the ridge, guard rails on either side, drop offs of 500 to 1000 feet. Climb, descend, climb, descend, all on proper highways until ...

Eat lunch at a warung on the street, Tuan Giao our midway stop, continue on highway 6, not a highway any longer. Country road 6, much more intimate, no more soaring over and around the valleys, drop right through them, into villages, kids screaming "hello", hoping to touch your hand, be in a picture.

Landscape is unreal, one valley feels as if I stepped into a Grimm's Fairy Tale. 300 feet wide, mountains reaching up 500 feet all around, plush trees and rich green rice fields, small one room thatch roofed cottages on stilts nudged up against small ponds formed by meandering streams, fences made of twigs, water buffaloes tied to a small post, winding dirt and concrete road, littered with potholes, puddles, and mud, simple, quaint, beautiful.

Two minutes later, climb up and around and up and around, turn a corner, stop, gasp, overlooking a 2500 foot drop into an entirely different world. Steep inclines of red clay erosion laden mountainsides crashing into vibrant green vinyards, next to blowing long grass covered hills. Valley base is covered in rice fields, split by a flowing stream, lined with cottages and primitive fencing, valley stretching miles ahead. Simply unbelievable, pinch myself, it's real.

An hour later, hugging the cliffs edge, no guard rails, round a corner, without warning, I come face to face with my worst fear. Crazy Asian driver, blind corner, no heads up honk, takes my outside line, going way too fast, I juke, narrowly miss the SUV, yank wheel back on road, avoid cliffs edge, hit water puddle, bike slips out from under me, I tumble, slide, chew up hands and elbow, helmet saves my head and face, sit for a moment, a bloody bruised up mess. Gather bike, front light, turn signal, right foot pedal, all trashed. Wheel faces forward, steering column faces 20 degrees to the right. Shirt tore, pants ripped, $400 camera in pocket, smashed. Mount bike, find neutral, kick start repetitively, finally starts, take off to catch up with Will, road tombstone says 60km Muong Lay ....

Part 2 is coming ...


Iphone Blogger out

Day 82: Day 2 on the Minsk - Crazy local Buses and Falling Rocks

Mai Chau Guest house view at 7am

Awake in beautiful Mai Chau to birds chirping, crispness to the air, breeze coming through the windows. Quickly consume everything on my plate, brush my teeth, and head out on day two of the journey.

It's another insane ride, mountains all around, limestone "boobies" pop up everywhere, appear moss covered but upon closer inspection, those are trees. The highway is in good condition, asphalt not showing signs of much weather related exhaustion nor wear and tear as a whole. Hugging the cliff edges, gliding through the vineyards, avoiding the occasional water buffalo, that literally sums up our morning.

Bobbie Hills of NW Vietnam

In the afternoon as I come to an almost 90 degree corner, Falling Rock signs everywhere, two things happen. First, a local bus comes sliding around the bend maybe 15 seconds before my arrival, and when I say sliding, I mean something out of Gone in 60 Seconds or Speed. Whips around the corner, tail end flails out in the gravel, completely crosses the double white line on into my shoulder, no brakes applied, wheels spinning, it's all accelerator, tires finally grip, I slow to a crawl, misses me by a hundred feet. Side note: in case you have not gathered, the local buses are scary crazy, seem to have a death wish, value timeliness over safety. And mind you, they'll have bikes and boxes an luggage and chickens all strapped to the top of the bus ... It's insane.

Second thing, bus passes, I accelerate, watchful for another suicide bus driver, slightly break through the corner, walls of carved rock reach up to the sky on both sides, boom, smash, turn my head around, softball size rock debris litters the street, barely missed a falling boulder, whew. Return eyes ahead, boom, smash, on my right, bike is peppered by rock shrapnel, accelerate, out of danger zone, woah! Falling Rock sign is no joke.

Village on a ridge in the mountains

Topography is breathtaking, pinch myself, I'm really here. Wait, where's Will? I stop to take a few pictures, assume he'll catch up, at some point he does, then passes. No worries, he's a picture taker, he'll stop soon enough. And there he is, taking pictures of some kids, them asking for money, he does not oblige. Smart!

Enter Son La, our destination for the day, road widens to 3 lanes, that's fancy, but there are only a few bikes on it as far as the eyes can see ... Eerie ... like a ghost town. Either side is barren for a good mile or two, buildings pop up, no depth, maybe 50 feet deep, almost like movie set facades, random store fronts or machine shops or gated doorways, no hotels. Will and I slow, confused, where are we to stay? Stop, converse, town looks like it's ending, squeezes down to double lane, press on. Like a light at the end of the tunnel, we see it, the all familiar Vietnamese signal for the town center, slogan banners reaching across the road. Pass two or three options before hitting the true center, denoted by a large column of flowers in the center of a large roundabout.

Will and I with two local Son La peeps

Find a hotel just steps away, air con, hot water, tv, 200,000 dong = $10usd. Deal. Wander up some streets, find a place for dinner, meet a random Aussie on a business trip and his local colleagues. Invited to join their table, soon the potent rice wine shots are flowing, forced to participate, then it's off to karaoke, all in Vietnamese. Leave Will to schmooze, possible work opportunity in Australia with the Aussie's company, wander the streets, find the hotel, retire to my bed.

Nite nite Bloggerville, iPhone Blogger!

Day 81: Day 1 Minsk adventure - Mai Chau

Ho Hoan Kiem Lake, Hanoi, Vietnam

Awake at 5am, nose running, throat scratching, allergies and nerves, cannot return to slumber. Blow my nose, check the Baylor/Duke score. Baylor is up at half, good news, they're the last of the Big 12 in the tourney. Take some meds, a clariton for the nose, IB profen for the finicky back, and shower. Watch on my iPhone the update for the game, with about 2 to go, Baylor is up. 2 consecutive 3's and a few free throws later, and it was all Duke. Bummer. Attempt to fall back to sleep, eyes close, mind races, an hour later I give up. Finish packing my small bag and large travel pack, check the big one downstairs, hit up Frank's for breakfast and ice blended mocha espresso. Catch up on facebook and emails, not sure if there will be any wifi during this trip, update my status and return to get Will.

Russian Minsk

Minsk bikes are Russian made, from the town of Minsk, in Belarus, thus the name. Ours are late 70's/early 80's model. They provide proper helmets, ones that don't just cover the crown of your head, but encapsulate it all, chin and mouth guard protruding for extra protection.

Lesson One, how it works:

Right foot is the back break, you must use your weight to activate, right grip is the acceleration, right handle is the front brake, use that sparingly. Left handle is the clutch, left foot is your kick start and your gears. To start the bike, it must be in neutral, pull out the kick start, put some force behind it, step down hard, you'll know if it starts. For the gears, 1 down is first, 2 up is neutral, 1 up is 2nd, another up is 3rd, last up is 4th. Make sure to use your clutch to prevent the bike from jumping, especially in first and with deceleration. Key to first gear, hold the clutch in, rev the accelerator, slowly release clutch to avoid wheelies or bucking. Simple enough?

Lesson Two, Petrol:

This is an old school bike, no fuel injectors here, you have to mix the fuel for it. The mix is 5% oil 95% gas, so for every 10L of petrol, you pour in 0.5L of oil. Most oil containers off the shelf are either 1L or 0.8L, which should make the calculation easy. Mixing must happen at point of entry, to do this, turn fuel valve to engine off, as petrol is being dispensed, pour oil in as well, once complete, close cap, shake the bike vigorously, then open valve. Crank her up and give her a good rev, simple as that.

Lesson Three, don't die:

Best way to ride a bike, especially in Hanoi, is to think of the road like a river. Follow the stream until your turn, then shield yourself if possible by other turning bikes. Oh, and don't hit things. Easy as that.

They pack us up with spare parts, in case of the occasional breakdown, strap our bags to the back to the bike, and off we go.

Few notable observances about the Minsk. It's rattles and shakes a lot, the exhaust emits mountains of smoke anytime you use gas, that's right, only when gliding down hill or when it's off does it not smoke, my apologies Al Gore. Horn sounds like a whiny buzz, imagine a horn dying while being dragged across a metal grating, that's the noise. Why? There is no battery, the bike's horn and lights are only powered when the engine is on, and apparently that horn sound is as good as it can get under those circumstances.

Streets of Hanoi

Takes us an hour to get out of Hanoi, Will is hesitant with good reason, it's loco in Hanoi. Put a million bikes on the road at any one time, all going different speeds, now throw in obstinate buses, angry cars, lethargic big rigs, and the bitter taxis, and what do you get? Late morning driving in Hanoi. By the time the road shrinks from 8 lanes to 2, we have been on the ride for a good hour, nothing exciting yet. In fact it's so dusty, drivers are so obnoxious, buses are such bullies, I'm starting to double think my choice.

Entering the Dr. Seuss Mountains

10 minutes later we see our first set of Dr. Seuss style outcroppings and immediately my mind is changed. It was strange and weird and beautiful and so green. Apparently these hills are made of limestone, so with the rain, different patterns of deterioration combined with clinging vegetation, you get hills that lean, hills that tilt, hills that bulb, hills that wilt, so many many hills you see, why there's one, the letter B. Short ones, tall ones, skinny ones, fat ones, bitter ones, sweet ones, smiling ones, sad ones. So many kinds of hills to see, which one to climb, which ones for me?

Ok, I'm done with my attempt to honor Dr. Seuss, you're welcome, but whoever illustrated his books must of seen these hills. They're brilliant.

Hoa Binh Dam

Eat lunch on the streets of Hoa Binh. Originally tried to stop at some Plaza, turned out to be a fancy hotel that just opened, but we could not find an open restaurant, only a bar. So after leaving disappointed, we went for a sure bet. Not sure what we consumed, Will did the ordering, but it was good and cheap, two of my favorite descriptors. There appears to be a large river and dam in Hoa Binh, we take a detour to inspect, slip by security following another bike, and end up driving to the top. One side is a beautiful lake, rolling hillsides, a small steep island breaking up the glassy water. On the other side, an angled drop of 500 feet, view of the river flowing through the town, wait, is that a tunnel? Let's see where it goes, back on the bikes, race down the hill - meaning ride our back brakes down the hill - head into the tunnel abyss, other side ... uh, is a power plant. Boo. Time to get back on the journey, we're 2/3 of the way there according to the map, but it all depends on conditions.

My mechanic, yeah, he looks 12

As we turn out of Hoa Binh, the road starts to climb and climb and climb. The views become magnificent and we begin the mountainous highway riding that takes my breath away. We drop into a valley, rice fields sprawling in every direction, rolling up to a small town just a few minutes back on the road, am then it happens ... Karplunk karplunk. What's my motor doing? Did it just shut off? Try to restart, the bike laughs at me. I see a petrol station a few hundred meters away, kick it into neutral and start pushing. Arrive, maybe it needs gas? Open the tank, a third full, that's not it. No one speaks English, try to explain, they push me out of the way and start playing with the bike. If you ever travel to NW Vietnam, one thing you'll notice, there are probably 100 bikes for every car, and everyone knows how to fix the little things. Unfortunately, nothing little about it this time, roll it another 200m to the mechanic. After another 1 1/2 hours, it runs, pay 120,000 dong, and we're back on the road, sun is setting, 25km to Mai Chau all through the mountains, uh ...

Highway 6, NW Vietnam

We have a policy, Will and I, if one of us wants to take a picture, he pulls over and the other rider just slows a bit until he catches up. What we have found, I am a quicker, more aggressive driver in general, having no fear of passing slow big rigs around corners or cars when they are going at an unacceptable rate. Obviously we are chasing sunlight, so we both try to limit the picture taking. I pass Will, he me, go back a forth a few more times, last pass is mine, and off I go. About 15 minute later, Will is no where to be seen. Do I go on, do I stop, do I go back?


I decide to stop, wait another 15 minutes, assume he must have passed me and take off again. When I get near the split that leads into Mai Chau, he's no where to be found. Crap. He has to come by here, there is not other option, so I will wait. And wait I did, 5 minutes, 10, 20, 45 minutes later I hear the familiar rumble of his Minsk junker, could not be more thrilled! Turns out the last pass he was unaware of, so he thought I was still behind him, stops, when I don't appear, assumes the bike broke again, heads back. He made it to the last stop he knew I would of gone too, not there, decides I must be the other way, and so he retraces his previous ride and continues on. When I see him, when he sees me, both let out a big sigh of relief. It's pitch black, my headlight only works on high beams, sorry other drivers, good thing Mai Chau is only 5 more km.

Both of us were wondering the same thing ... When we get there, where are we staying? While driving, a motorbike pulls up next to me, attempting to get my attention. I can't hear you, what are you trying to sell? I'm beginning to get annoyed, but I think, I can always say no to the scarf or back pack or lady he is trying to sell and still ask where lodging is, so I pull over. Ironically, he was inviting us to his guesthouse, one of the many on stilts over the rice fields we had heard so much about, problem solved! It was 70,000 dong each for a huge shared room, dinner was family style and plentiful for 30,000 dong each, throw in a huge breakfast, a couple of soft drinks and waters, and we left the next morning for 125,000 dong each ($7usd), Brilliant!!!

Nite nite y'all, iPhone Blogger!

Day 80:Hanoi

Rested my eyes, punished my back, never a solid moment of sleep, but we made it.

Camel bus company drops us off on the outskirts of town, far away from the backpacking district, how convenient. Will, Simon and I jump into a metered cab, 10 minutes later it reads 106,000 dong for 12km, how is that possible? We were not going over 60km/hr, especially with the traffic and the red lights. Me thinks something is afoul with that meter, we all mention it, but at this point just want a real bed, pay after making it clear we think we got ripped, head down Nguyen Ngo alley to Hanoi Backpackers Hostel.

It's 6:30am, Hanoi backpackers is bustling with activity. Check in is not until 10, but they have a storage room for our bags, one you must sign in and out your bag, proper operation, and free breakfast in the kitchen, i.e. baguette and jam. We pay for the dorm beds, store our bags, grab some grub, start looking at fliers for the trips to Sapa and Halong Bay. It's 8 now, I leave in search of wifi and a coffee shop, this is Hanoi, should be easy to find. Make a big loop, trying not to get lost, stumble upon Frank's Barista Coffee shop, inspect menu, check, wifi that allows for facebook, check, atmosphere that's comfortable, check, plugs for my iPhone, check ... I'm home. 2 hours later, Simon and Will drop in, check in is open, let's go.

We are on the second level of a building called Other Side. You see Hanoi Backpackers is a big operation with 130 beds, 3 buildings, and a tour company. Impressive. I order a bottom bunk, they have it available, settle in for a nap. Not 10 minutes later, Gordon walks in, a guy who I will talk to for 45 minutes total, but will forever effect my view of Vietnam. He's a British bloke, been traveling this time around for 6 months or 9 months, can't recall. Cordially introduce ourselves as is the custom of any hostel, he inquires about our future travels. Think we're going to Halong Bay tomorrow, might hit Sapa, have you been? And the. The tale begins about his 6 day Minsk trip around NW Vietnam, Mac out, pics accompanying his commentary. From inside a voice cries out, whether it's God or desire, it was undeniable. I look at Will, clearly he's having the same experience, Simon, not so much.

Will and I head to the recommended rental bike operator, thinking we'd get a scooter or a Honda for the trek, they refuse to rent us scooters, "they'll never make it" they inform us. We have two choices, Yamaha or Minsk, the latter at $8/day being $10 cheaper, a savings of $50usd. Will has never ridden a proper motorcycle, my experience was 20 years ago and once. Are you ready to do this? Will replies, "Lets put down the deposit." A swipe of the credit card and our future was paid for. Picking up the bikes at 8:30 tomorrow morning, a quick lesson on how to ride, how to fill it up, and we will be on our way ... It's happening!

Hit up a side street market, need to buy a small backpack for the trek, Northface 20L starts at 300,000 dong, buy for 200,000 ($10usd). Next stop, cash for the trip, Atm at HSBC has a reasonable charge, pull out cash, move on to my final stop before heading back to the hostel, Highlands Coffee. Will heads back, I enjoy the free wifi, familiar fruit smoothies, and comfy couches. Shocked that WV beats Kentucky. Scrappy team, always been. They figure out how to win somehow. Might take it all, next challenger, Duke.

Back at Hanoi BP, consensus from other Minsk riders, no shorts, oil drips all the time, if it rains there's mud, always a chance of laying it down, protect your legs. Only jeans I have are my Sevens, ain't covering them with oil or mud, time to buy new fake jeans. It's dark, most street vendors are closing up shop, I will not be dissuaded. After asking and roaming for 30 minutes, stumble upon a street with several pants stores. First one has no jeans, 2nd has poor selection, 3rd has some fair priced stylistic ones but none in my fat arse size. Why are the Vietnamese so small. Biggest size they have is a 30, have not seen that since high school, blurgh. 4th & 5th, similar issues as to the first, 6th will make me a pair, but not ready until tomorrow evening. Looking hopeless, what to do, turn the corner, wait that's a jeans store. Walk in, see some Blake Levi's, says 34 - 32 on the waist, try them on, they fit, score! 275,00 dong later ($14usd), and I'm set for the ride.

Did I mention I had been wandering around for 30 minutes, down alleys, making lefts and rights, no clue what alley my hostel is on. Uh oh. Spend the next hour finding my way back amidst good and bad directions, kept asking where the lake is, if I can find that, I can find the hostel. Ask one motorbike driver, he points down the street that way, 5 minutes later ask another, sends me back the way I started, another sends me up a perpendicular street, another back the same way on a parallel street. Dagnabnit, will someone just give me the right instruction. Feel like I've entered the twilight zone, everything looks the same but different, could be 100m or 5,000m from the hostel, where am I? At long last, a lady outside her shop, seeing my confusion, shows me a map, where we are, where to go, 15 minutes later, i see the familiar yellow sign beckoning me home. It feels good. I like adventure, but sensible adventure, that was just madness.

Spend a little time blogging, set the alarm, insert the earplugs, apply the mask, and off I go ...

Nite nite via the iPhone Blogger!

Day 78-79: Hue

Hue was mostly a blur, not much to it really. It rained and rained and when it was not raining, it misted and misted. Only two attractions here are the citadel, the walled older city, and a boat ride down a river of tombs. We had intended to do both, but the river trip got ousted when time got squeezed and the conditions did not improve.

The citadel was a walled compound within a walled city, the compound being the royal courts. When we arrive to pay, an older weathered itchy fingered guard asks us our nationality, Will responds English, Simon responds French, I don't respond. He taps me, "Where you from?" I was not not thinking, Los Angeles, yourself? The look on his face turned from blank to grimace. He says something in Vietnamese to the other guard, both staring at me. Ticket lady still sells me a ticket, I wave farewell with a smile, walk in. Maybe I should say Canada. The citadel had some moments of brilliance, like the moats covered in lily pads and bright purple flowers, but overall, there was not enough meet to this 18th century iconic place. Everything I wanted to explore is behind ropes or locked doors, we were limited to gardens, grassy plains, and exteriors. I'm not complaining though, it forced us to walk a good 4 miles there and back, exercise being in short supply lately, and it's did distract from the mist and rain.

Back at the hotel, grabbed a nap, then headed across the alley to eat at a lonely planet recommendation before heading to Brown Eyes, the only decent bar we could find. Happy hour involves buy 1 get one free and cheap buckets, we had a few, played some rounds of pool, jumped on facebook using their computers, and met some people.

The next day we checked out, went and ate, came back, rented our room from 1 until 5 when the bus came for $6usd, and then jumped on a night bus by a company called Camel. Up till this point I had been using a reliable company called Sinh Cafe for night buses, where you get to pick your seats. Not so this time, board, try to sit towards the front, they shush me back. The way I understood the ticket, it bought mr a seat anywhere on the bus, that's obviously incorrect, anywhere in the back of the bus. Almost back row middle on the bottom, that was my seat, face next to the feet of the back row stretched people, seat again too small for a westerner, cramped, aisles fill with locals on mats, such a strange operation. Next time I'm going with Sinh.

Nite nite, here's to hoping I sleep well, iPhone Blogger out!

Day 77: Moving on up, to the .... North

Awake to the sky opening up, wind gusting. Will arrives in the morning having checked out of his hotel, contemplating moving on or crashing with us on more night. Our original plan was to make this a beach day, but with the rain, it's never going to happen. Two things holding us back from moving on: 1. Simon still deciding on a tailor made suit, which would require at least one whole day. 2. The walking tour as suggested by Simon's Lonely Planet.

First, after processing the idea of a one day made suit, he agrees for a quality fit they'd need more. He also is eager to move on, he only has a certain amount of time in Vietnam. Second, since the bus would not leave until 2pm, we have about 3 hours to do the 2 hour walking tour, obviously feasible. We buy tickets on a bus through the hotel and head off for our walking tour.

It is basically a 2km stroll through the old part of town where all the shops and tailors are, but with a focus on the occasional historical landmark. My favorite part is the old ladies by the wharf, faces that would stop a speeding bullet, work ethic embarrassing to most, gap toothed smiles from ear to ear. Something magical about the simplicity of their lives and the joy they exude.

Side note observation: In Hoi An it's been a rare find to spot a full grown dog. You see puppies everywhere, chewing on rags, or nestling up to their owners, but a full grown dog, no. Why is this? I choose to ignore the obvious and opt for the "they're napping all day" theory.

Ok so I have not told you much about Simon. Terribly nice guy but cautious to a fault and fixated on his lonely planet book or French forums. "I think it's better if we goes here, the book says." "As you want" meaning I'm trying to placate you but in reality I disagree otherwise he says "I think yes". Hilarious. I conceded some, he conceded some. I'm more adventurous and like to explore off the beaten path. Don't want to do the same as everyone or lonely planet all the time. I just want to seek out, talk to people, explore.

Do the walk, end up in a smelly market, fish everywhere, run into multiple ladies 90 years in the face balancing two weaved woks attached to a single bamboo pole containing anything from mountains of squid, bushels of pineapples, to buckets of snapper. They're chopping off fish heads, paddling canoes with a fresh catch, transporting things, and at their age, thoroughly impressed. Hit up my favorite art gallery, then the 9th century bridge, look down, it's 1:30.

Required to be back at the hotel by 1:45 for the bus pick up, the bridge is a good 15 minutes away and Simon has disappeared down another street to buy a photograph. Arrive back with 2 minutes to spare, Simon's no where to be found, bus pick up just arrived. Stall, stall, stall. 5 minutes later, Simon comes in hobbling, still with bum toe from Nha Trang accident, and off we go. Hue is a short 6 hour bus ride so no sleeper this time, just normal upright seat style coach this time.

Along the way, we pass through Danang, it's beautiful. Tree covered mountains crashing into the sea, heavy gray clouds billowing over the peaks, white caps being blown against it's base. Pass a random barge accidentally beached, ironic wording on it's side, "Safety First". Charge through a 6,280 meter tunnel (almost 4 miles) with exceptionally bad ventilation, diesel fumes pouring into the cabin, no one light a match!

Reach Hue, find a fair enough hotel for $15, split between 3, that's cheap cheap. Hit up a promising restaurant called Little Italy, order a thick crust pepperoni for way too much, disappointed with the thin uninspired pie. Head back to the hotel and call it a night.

Nite nite gang, iPhone Blogger

Day 76: Hoi An

Thrown awake by a sudden braking. Air goes off, lights come on, "Hoi An". Finally, that was about as painful of a ride as one needs ever make. Back is cramping, legs are sore, head is heavy, I just want a decent accommodation. We do the hotel scramble, looking for nice accommodations for reasonable rates. After 25 minutes and no satisfaction, motorbike driver offers us a ride to check out his, we concede ... first one sucks. Next option? On the way to the second place we pass my buddy from Koh Phangan, Will Legg. Bike won't stop, tell him to shoot me a facebook email while blazing by. Second stop, little more costly but in the old part of town, has a ton of charm, comes with free breakfast which Simon loves, has good mattresses which I love, we take it.

We pay $2 each to eat breakfast there, tons of fruit, baguettes, 1 egg plate, 1 pancake. Hit up our room and I pass out.

Awake again at 1pm, Simon has returned from adventures around the city, Lonely Planet in hand. He's tired now, neither of us slept well on the bus, so I took my opportunity to explore. Grabbed a hotel bicycle and hotel map, and explored. Started by biking down the streets of the old city, some buildings being landmarks, others made to look similar. It's a very quaint town, streets are small between the structures, all the buildings are as one, imagine a 19th century French countryside strip mall. Consumed by shops and shops and shops, both sides of the street, everything from tailors to paintings to photography, truly pleasant to stroll.

There's a beach only 5 minutes from town, so follow the map and bike that direction. 5 minutes biking, no beach. 10 minutes biking, no beach. 15 minutes biking, see a cool river with quaint riverside cafes, no beach. Granted I'm on a single gear beach cruiser with basket, but did not think I was that slow, did I miss it somehow? 18 minutes later I see the beach. I look back at the map as to say liar, reread it, 5km to beach, ohhh. It was a windy day, the kind where you cannot sit on the beach without sand abusing you, so I take a quick spin up and down the coastal road, head back.

As I'm biking back, a girl on a motorbike rolls up next to me, uh oh, is this another lady boy? I don't see an Adam's apple and her hands aren't huge, but in her broken English she is propositioning me for something. She hands me a card, it's for a tailor, that makes sense, Hoi An is the land of the tailors, some 350 of them.

Simon is game for a suit, looks online at a French forum, inspects lonely planet, lines up 3 possible tailors, prepared as always. We head back out, on hotel bicycles, start marking them off our list. Stumble upon an ancient bridge, quite the tourist attraction, built in the 9th, 11th, or 15th century, cannot recall. Check out some tailors, all have their pitches down pat, all with a gimmicks making them the best, all wanting around $100. No thanks for me, Simon? He's going to think about it, as expected. Hit up a few art places, see some really cool works, way too expensive, continue on our way back to the hotel, Will is meeting us there.

Will stops in, we all head out, looking for good food and a good bar. We stop next door at Cafe 83, drawn by the sign "beer 3,000 dong ($0.15)" which pleases Simon and Will, and the menu looks cheap enough for me.

Side note, if I have not mentioned this, I should of. Tried beer several times, several brands, since being on my trip, and every time I regret it. To me it tastes like piss, or what I imagine piss to taste like, and has a revolting dry chalky aftertaste. In many places it is as cheap if not cheaper than the water, it would be convenient and cost effective if I could acquire the taste, bleh, not gonna happen. I'll stick to saving my carbs for ice cream, oh how I miss Cookies N Cream, drool...

Eat, wander the streets, stumble upon an overpriced but active bar, I'm not drinking, move on, find a billiards bar, order a banana shake, play a few games, mine is way off. It's getting late, planning on a beach party tomorrow night, head back to the Phoac An Hotel and call it a night.

Nite nite faithful readers. iPhone Blogger.

Day 73 - 75: Nha Trang Summary

Nha Trang is not what I expected. Yes the beach is lined with palm trees and there are some beautiful islands easily seen from the coast, but the city itself seems as if it outgrew itself, so it's dirty and dingy and not well organized. However there are a few smart attractions around the place. There is snorkeling, diving, fun cruises, booze cruises, a water park, small temple ruins and waterfalls. Can you guess which two we partook of? I'll give you a hint, we rented motorbikes, a first time experience for Simon, and yes Simon checked with his Lonely Planet to make sure we chose wisely.

First stop is the Cham towers, the remnants of some temple. Arrive, man charging for tickets takes my money, woman charging for parking takes my money, but the man at the gate will not let me in, apparently your shoulders must be covered, my tank does not qualify. Simon stays, preferring to avoid city traffic, head back to the Golden Hotel to grab a tee, take wrong turn, on some sort of highway. Finally able to take a left towards the ocean, paved becomes rock, rock becomes dirt, uh oh ... looking bleak, make a few more turns, and we're back to paved and at the beach, ask me to do that twice. Grab my shirt, 10 minutes back down road, oh crap, forgot my camera. Grab it, on the road again, arrive just shy of an hour later. Enter, get to the top of some stairs, there's a tent with a rack full of cloaks for those who need to cover up. What the what?! Even better, the whole attraction is literally 5 towers with a single room for worship inside each, the central one being taller than the rest ... that's it.i wasted an hour of my day to spend 10 minutes here and see this ... Blurgh! Cham towers, you're no Siem Reap, you hear me?

Next stop is Ban Ho Falls. Now mind you, Simon's first day on a bike started off shaky, he is predisposed to being cautious and particular, thus his obsession with his Lonely Planet book, whether it's where we eat, what we do, renting motorbikes or going snorkeling, he has to see if it's in the book and if recommended. That being said, this was a big step for him, and he started off timid. Once out of the city, traffic lightens to barely anyone, we choose the coastal road, sweeping views and wide lanes. Simon even revs up and passes me going at least 60 to 70 kph. Impressive.

Signage in Vietnam, especially outside the city is as one would expect, poor at best. After a good 25 to 30km, we pull over at a cafe. Get directions, grab some overpriced and poorly cooked food, drink some suspect bottled water, and head back 3km to the poorly marked turn off. Drive on what amounts to a normal width sidewalk until we reach a sharp left onto a dirt path, and 10 minutes later we enter through a simple arch leading to a parking patch. Park, pay entrance fee, pay for parking, yeah, plenty of dirt in all directions and they charge for parking. Reminds me of the wet wipe scam at Pho 2000, you have no choice. Head down another dirt path on foot 300 meters and finally hear water. They have painted pink arrows on the rocks for you to follow, but they're fairly spread apart, oft times difficult to locate. Hear rushing water to my right, arrow points up and to my left, hmm, there are 3 falls so I assume it's to the top. As we make the climb, half way up the mountain, the arrows change direction 180 degrees instructing us back to where we came. What the what?! You kidding me? Make the executive decision to follow the arrows backward, we will go up the down, and will go down the up, it'll work right? After another 20 minutes of climbing, the arrow is toward the falls, woo hoo. Ban Ho 1 - not much of a fall, more like an easy flow. Oh wait, it's not rainy season, there's water but the falls are going to be rubbish, this time of season, oh well.

Dive into the pools above an below each fall, our favorite being Waterfall 1. It's there that you can do a bit of cliff jumping, a good 25 to 30 feet. Did not run into a single person the entire time, though occasionally we hear voices. Boulder down the up arrows, arrive back where it all began, it was refreshing and a good bit of fun! Now for the drive back.

As I had mentioned, Simon had gained his biking legs, so I had no problem with stepping up the speed. As I exit the gravel dirt road back onto the glorified sidewalk I hear a clamor behind me. Slow down, look back, Simon is on the ground, bike as well. Though he has mastered speed, he had yet to master the transition from rock to concrete. He attempted to turn and accelerate at the junction of the two surfaces, thus laying his bike down and chewing up his toe and hand. To say this affected his driving style is an understatement. He might have averaged 20kph (12mph) the entire ride back. We took the shortest way via highway and it took forever. Families of four, two parents with two children on one bike pass us. Men balancing logs, bird cages, and poultry all pass. And no matter the encouragement, Simon could not be bothered to go faster. Once in actual Nha Trang, rush hour was in full swing, so many more bikes on the road, this is going to be painful. You see I have this proclivity when behind the wheel to go fast and be efficient, thus you can grasp why this is insanely painful. We arrive at our left turn, no stop light of course, it's best to follow a local, cut it at an angle, and go slow enough to avoid the onslaught. I make it across no problem, Simon on the other hand, well, I spent a good 5 minutes waiting for his turn. In that time, families on bikes have gone, small school girls have walked across the intersection, grandmas on proper push bicycles have crossed, ever-cautious Simon sits and waits. When he finally comes to terms, the congestion will not be slowing, he holds his breath, accelerates slowly, and catches up.

About our accommodations, arrive with every intention of staying one night at the Backpackers Hostel. Once we arrive, realize it's $7/person for a dorm bed, opt for the Golden Hotel for 2 double beds, in room wifi, internet room, free breakfast, all for $15/nt. To be fair, I prefer dorms, you meet so many people, hear about places to go, find out local hot spots, but this time around, just really wanted a little privacy and proper rest. Plus this dorm seemed a bit dodgy and the attendants were anything but friendly.

Signed up for the night bus with Sinh Cafe again, only seats left were top back row. Simon and I chose the two on the right, fortunate the other 3 passengers were girls, one big bed of people. To be fair, everyone had their own seat, but there was no escape from touching arms, and these are the worst seats possible.. Why? Sounds like a slumber party right? No. Every bump is magnified, every brake feels abrupt, no comfortable way to position youself, angled seat backs, feet stuffed in cubby acting as a fulcrum. I literally left contact with my seat a minimum of 10 times. Ok, taking my herbal sleep myosedate, hoping it'll help, heading to Hoi Ann, be there in 12 hours ...

Nite nite my Bloggas, iPhone Blogger.

Day 72: Philosophical Moment and Sleeper Bus!

Awake after a very late night of watching nothing on TV but can't sleep, it's 10am. Checkout is 11 and I still have yet to find a shop with razors for my face. Run out of the guesthouse, asking shop keepers and coffee houses. Finally, like a beacon of light, the little alleyway drug store appears, Gillette razors for a reasonable rate, jump on it. Head back to Ly Ly's Guesthouse, pass the female caretaker on my trek back up the 5 flights, legs burning, sweat beading on my furrowed brow. Slip into the aircon of my room, strip, slide into my wet bathroom and turn the hot water to 38C, 100F. Soak my face below the heat, 1 min, 3 min, 5 minutes, it's ready. Slide the razor from just under my chin down, slowly, try to slice not pull the hairs. One stroke, rinse the razor head, 2nd pass. 5 minutes later neck is clean, irritation has left, continue the rest of my shower activities.

Dry and clothe myself, look at the scattered belongings, begin the slow and arduous process of repacking my bag for the umpteenth time. Finish, it's 11:30am, I'm late. Settle up with the owner, get a poor conversion rate, slightly expected it, and head to my local coffee house, Highlands Coffee.

Simon arrives, it's well past noon. I'm still struggling to communicate, 3 1/2 hours sleep does not suit me well. Feeling philosophical, not sure if it's my physical or mental condition, bear with. These are my thoughts:

"Saw my reflection in my iPhone as I sit, consume sugar, syrup, espresso and blog. Man I've aged. Crows feet around the eyes, deep lines of the forehead, smile craters in the cheeks ... what have I accomplished? What has my life meant? I've run voraciously from the rat race for so long, not sure I could ever return to the safety of it. Dipped my hands in multiple ventures but none have come to fruition ... lack of work ethic, lack of belief, lack of skill set? Am I learning or repeating?

Regardless, I will press on, conquering what ails me from my past, chasing toward what beckons in my future. If God is for me, who can stand against me. I have a high call, I am His child, His creation, His joy - must I continue to fear, yet doubt? I think not. Running toward tomorrow, relishing the moments of today, taking stock of the past, I will succeed, I will press on, I will be me."

And that concludes my vulnerable moment for the day ...

Bus arrives on time, 8pm, first time on a sleeper. Discover a few things:

1. No place to put your carry on luggage save between your legs.

2. Not all seats are the same size, nor are all locations the same.

3. Be prepared to never stretch out your legs or fully straighten your feet while in the leg cubby, the seats were made for small Vietnamese people.

Oh I should probably describe the bus a bit for ya. It's a full size touring bus with double decker seating, but not two conventional floors, more like 3 columns of bunk beds, left middle, right. All the seats recline, but barely past 45 degrees, stopped by the feet cubby of the person behind you. The back row seats are literally side by side 5 across, so if you're back there, be ready to touch your neighbor. Got the image? Ok, go back and reread the three things I just realized.

Alright, calling it a night, nite nite via the in transit iPhone blogger.

Day 70-71: Cu Chi Tunnels and War Museum

Day 70 was pretty much a chill out day, not much to write about. Got accosted by the overly aggressive sunglasses an lighter pushers, got swindled over a pair of shorts, met a French kid named Simon, we decide to go to the Cu Chi tunnels tomorrow. Hang out at a cool coffee shop called Highlands, catch up on my internet activity, and that sums it up. Now onto Day 72.

Awake at 7:00am, bed is good but back still aching, really?! Blurgh. Head down to catch up on the scores, ND went down, screws a little with my bracket, but Georgetown losing, really? Had St. Mary's in most, that's good.

Went next door for breakfast, where I could still pick up wifi. Simon met me there. A short man (5'4) sold us the tickets, the man who came to collect us could not of been more than 4'10, which will make much more sense with the tunnels I imagine.

Arrive an hour later, follow the guide, his English is terribly hard to decipher, come to first hole, so small, can a full size man fit in there? An athletic 6'0 guy decides to try, with arms straight up holding the medal roof, he slides underground. Amazing. Hit up a few other tunnels, learn about the thatch roofs made out of leaves that are flame retardant, and then we get to go in. I'm second out of about 20 who dared drop in. They have lights in the tunnel but spread far enough apart that the blackness consumes you whole. The tunnel shrinks in parts, putting you on hands and knees and almost on your belly. We come to a fork, go left or down, we do the smart thing, drop down a level. Proceed another 30 feet, cannot see a thing, someone behind, someone in front, claustrophobia setting in. "Dude, can we go forward? See anymore lights?" Silence. On all fours, can barely turn around. Uh, how many behind you? "I think two maybe three, not sure. Is it hard to breathe?" Yeah. Crawl forward, the only direction I can go, walls are closing in, shoulders are a tight squeeze, turn two more corners and see it, a faint light about 10 feet away. I see light! Hustle down the tunnel, turn the corner, steps leading up, I'm out! Whew! Look around, see the guy who was in front of me, talking to a bunch of th other people on the tour. Where did you guys come from? "Back there about 20 meters at the exit. How did you get here?" Uh, good question.

After being down there and learning that some of the Viet Cong would stay down there for weeks, I understand why they won the war. Their insane. Granted they are a tiny people, most men averaging 5 foot on my approximation, but seriously, 3 weeks? At the end of the tunnels tour, there is a film. Not just any film, but probably the worst, antiquated, propaganda film I've ever laid eyes on, yes, even worse than Michael Moore's 911. here are some of the phrases I happened to catch:

"People come for picnics with such nice village (insert plane sounds and bombing and then show remnants of area), crazy bunch of devils, they fired into women and children, schools, pots and pans."

"All prosperous, came as stampede, those from Washington DC, small girl, dad died, she has hatred for them Americans." (As they show a picture of a woeful little girl with dirt on her face)

"Hatred of US bombs and bullets. Poison bombs, peaceful area, only want to live in peace."

"Enemies hangout. Hero for killing Americans, for killing tanks, Hero of the war."

"Little school girl, sweet and meek, simple, peaceful peasant, sometimes use rifles, sometimes grenades, American killer hero."

"Cu Chi Guerrillas, use traps for animals now for American enemies. Although live in poverty, would not give one inch of land. Rifle in left hand, plow in the right. Fight in the morning, plow in the night."

"Americans want to turn cu chi into dead land, but cu chi want their land, move village underground."

It was so overt I almost laughed out loud a few times. Thankfully the people around me were smirking as well. This might sound wrong, but both Cambodia and Vietnam need help with their war monuments/documentaries. The docs feel like they are from the 70's or early 80's, the sites are interesting but not compelling. They need a writer to come in with an opinion to capture moments, not just give facts or obvious propaganda, but pull the heart strings, just my humble opinion.

The bus dropped us off at the War Museum, the photos did pull at your heart strings. I'm sure the atrocities they laid upon our US soldiers were just a horrific, but man alive, this is sad. Agent Orange with Dioxin (sp?) was some seriously messed up stuff. Not only does it kill at the moment, it leaves it's marks upon the land and generations to come. I know it was war, but if we could do it again knowing what we know, do you think we'd use the same chemical warfare? I would hope not.

Meet up with Simon, book sleeper bus with Sinh Cafe Travel to Nha Trang, then head to Pho 2000 because in Simon's Lonely Planet it says Clinton ate there in 2000. Happens to be right next to the night market, I spy another pair of fake A&F type shorts, ask how much. "100, those 170." Why do these cost 170, aren't they the same. "No, not same. See button, see logo, see pull. This one real." To be fair, none of them are real, you're saying this is a better made fake? "No, real." Yeah right. Barter a bit, I want them, pay 150,000 dong, about $7.50, score! Spot another pair I dig, unfortunately the largest size on location is XL and I'm clearly and XXL if not XXXL. Not too good on the ego to be compared to tiny Vietnamese sizes. She's going to bring some in my size tomorrow.

Round the corner, reach Pho 2000, eat pho chicken noodle, put way too many hot peppers in, suck down my tiny ice tea portion, sweating bullets. No tissues or napkins to be found, only a sealed wet wipe. Use wet wipe #1, wipe face, blow nose, ask for another, finish meal, wipe face again, blow nose. Grab one last one for good measure. Meal was delish. Bill comes, charged for ice in my iced tea, and for 3 wet napkins. So that's their game, provide no normal napkins/tissues, and then over charge on the wet wipes. Gotta give them credit, squeeze those nickels out of us westerners, smart.

We decide to hit up a club, it's Friday night, dressed as a backpacker, shorts, flip flops. Get to Apocalypse Now, turned from the door, apparently they have a dress code only enforced on weekends. Bummer. Check out another place, Q Bar, overpriced and not much going on. I call it a night and head back to Ly Ly's.

Nite nite gang, iPhone Blogger out.

Day 69: Head to Ho Chi Minh

Awake at 10, hit the showers, oh crap, my towel is going to be wet for the whole bus ride if packed in it's current condition. Make a b-line for the edge of the back decks, it's already in the 90's, solid breeze, I think I've found my dryer. Order breakfast, deliver it to my spot, eat, blog a bit, and presto, 45 minutes later and the towel is dry.

It's time to leave, settle my bill, get back my passport, follow a man down the alley to a minibus. I sit in the front seat per my usual custom, realize all aircon vents are pointed on me. As more people are gathered and loaded up from their respective guesthouses, another minibus guy appears ... Oh, I bet this is his seat, he was going to have all the aircon on himself, rat bastard ... Or should I say sucka!

Make it to the main bus station, my ticket has an actual seat assigned to it. Take my seat, 2 seconds later I see a local woman walking down the isle with a 2 year old in her arms, and we all know what that means ... 1 seat, 2 occupants, 3 times the luggage. It's like seeing a large sweaty smelly man walking down the isle of an airplane, you cross your fingers, say a little prayer, and then praise when he walks by. As she approaches, I do the drill ... God has a sense of humor, they're my new neighbors for the next 6 hours. Better yet, the bus is only half full, but from what I observe, the unwritten rule, locals are not allowed to switch seats. Her English is surprisingly good, enjoy some light conversation about her jobs, husband, child.

3 hours later, I figure out the seat switching rule does not apply to me, move towards the back of the bus, take two seats, spread out. The bus stops, uh oh, am I in trouble? Wait, we are at what looks like a port, bus doors open, a white person exits. Am I next? Bus begins to move straight towards the river ... Uh, anyone else noticing this? After a few bumps, bus stops, look out the window, we're floating over the water. What? It's a ferry.

Did I mention that this bus comes equipped with state of the art electronics? A huge 21" tube tv mounted on custom brackets, DVD player, and surround sound playing digital Dolby out of the one boom box speaker they stole off some rollerskating hippy in the 90's. They had previously shown a Vietnamese movie or tv show or who knows what it was. But now, they just inserted the Die Another Day Dvd, woo hoo! Opening scene, can barely hear anything. Hey, can you turn it up? Volume goes up. James Bond makes a comment, still hard to hear, and there it is ... A loud monotone female Vietnamese voice. She does James Bond, she does the Asians, she does the women, she does everyone. Better than that, they have Vietnamese subtitles on the bottom, so you can't read it, can't hear it, can't understand it - guess it's nap time.

Ho Chi Minh! We've made it, dropped off park side on a busy street, all the accommodations and restaurants are across the street. My first "crossing the street" experience with the Vietnam motorcross mayhem! Remember the game Frogger, where you are a little green frog trying to get across a busy road? I jump forward, jump back, then forward again, freeze, run! Made it! One piece, no accidents, bag and body in tact, even brought a few Canadians along for the ride.

Search for a hostel someone gave me the name of, apparently a few months ago it became a bank. Told there are no hostels, so I find a room with aircon, hot water, good pressure, satellite tv, minifridge, $11, not terribly expensive, only catch, 5th floor of a walkup. I could use the exercise.

Grab grub, head back to Ly Ly's Guesthouse, hit up the lonely planet, locate a few places to chill at night, head out the door. Advantage to staying in the Backpackers district beyond the cheap accommodations and the choice cheap food, there are a fair selection of bars around, to venture there would make sense. But lonely planet suggested a few other joints about a km towards the swanky part of town, so off I go. Cross the main street again, my records 2-0, walk alongside the park, tons of locals around, nice night and then ...

She pulls up on a motorbike. "I gee ewe massa, happy end, boom boom, $10." I'm sorry, what was that? "I gee ewwww massa, happy end, boom boom, $10, I room." Oh, uh, no thanks. "Mista mista, it no problem, own lee ten dolla. Eww com wi me." Shaking my head vigorously, Thanks anyhow but no. Stop and start walking opposite direction. Approached by another pair of girls on a bike. Leave me alone. I don't want any. And is that an adam's apple? Quickly cross back to the other side of the street, they leave me alone.

Later find out, that's the lady boy prostitution hot spot. A patch of grass dividing traffic in the middle of the city.

Finally find the bars down by the swank hotels, not impressed, head back to Ly Ly's and call it a night.

Nite nite Blogosphere - iPhone Blogger out!