AN ADVENTURE MOTORCYCLE TOUR
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VIETNAM _______________________________ A country where once the roads were turned into a sea of bicycles has now become a country with huge waves of mechanical scooters. A country that was ripped apart and sustained brutal killings during the later 60’s and early 70’s. Since then, this country has changed in so many ways but still retains many of the age old traditions and is a provider of some of the most delicious food as well as fantastic landscapes in all of Asia Vietnam is an awe inspiring country, with little funding and government support the inhabitants of this land have learned through generations to fend for themselves. Most of what they eat is harvested from their own land, they make their own alcohol and even generate their own income, a remarkable feat you will agree given the poverty that this country has experienced over many decades. They have adapted and adapted well. But what makes this country even more special is that provides a phenomenal stomping ground for touring on by motorcycle. Every corner, every hill climb and every mountain pass offers endless neck twitching scenery and impressive sights. It should be one of the top five places to visit on a motorcycle on everyone’s bucket list.
____________________________________ www.guidedmotorbiketours.co.uk Worldwide Motorcycle Adventure Touring
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am, I'm up and desperate for coffee. My
headrest in front of me, there were plenty to
flight leaves Heathrow at 10.50am. The
choose from. I was desperate to try and get some
coach from Bournemouth was prompt,
rest but it was proving very difficult. By 3pm in
comfy and hassle free, leaving for
the afternoon British time it was pitch dark out-
Heathrow at 5am. Arriving at Heathrow Terminal
side. Odd really as I've only seen what felt like a
4 I grab some food. Coffee, Pancakes and bacon
few hours daylight today. The plane is noisy, alt-
did it's job in waking me up. Now fed, I realise I
hough I bought my own earphones the plane sup-
can check in, even though it's only 7.50am and 3
plied headphones, it drowns out the noise of
hours before lift off. The next couple of hours I
screaming kids and inconsiderate groups of teen-
watch a film on my phone that I had downloaded
agers who fail to see that others around them aren't
previously. Sat in departure lounge I was able to
quite so energetic! I arrived in Kuala Lumpur
make use of the charging point, just as I sat down a
around 7.30 and had my next flight to catch at 9.30
mouse ran across the floor and under my feet, bit
so I made my way to the terminal by catching a
unexpected, still, might find it on the menu in
monorail into the opposite building. On route I
24hrs!
grabbed a Satay chicken wrap and a fizzy can of
The flight was delayed and we didn't get off the
drink. The wrap was fiery hot which I wasn't ex-
ground until 11.30. Shortly after take off food was
pecting.
served, dry chicken in a creamy sauce with mash
Without hardly any fuss I was back on a plane and
and broccoli plus all the usual extras, chocolate
heading for Hanoi. This plane being smaller, was
mouse, crackers and cheese. I started watching a
very cramped.
film on the 10" LCD panel on the back of the
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5
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F
inally I arrived in Hanoi, got through
to be taken somewhere on the back of their bike,
border control in minutes, collected my
they even supply a cycle helmet for your safety,
luggage as I came down the stairs and
very considerate! I make it out of the hectic city and
straight through the sliding doors out of
back to my hotel. Its been a very long couple of
the arrivals lounge and into Vietnam. Ngọc was
days and the travel is starting to take its toll on me
there waiting for me as I exited the terminal and we
so I make it an early night, it's been 48hrs since I
headed over to his 4x4.As we drove though town on
last woke.
our way to his garage I was amazed drivers and riders didn't die every second. It was chaotic to say the
Hanoi:
least. There seemed to be no traffic system or give
The capital of Vietnam -
way priorities. It was a case of beep, look and
Everything just kept flowing like a pre re-
Hanoi, is known for its centuries-old architecture
hearsed stunt. Somehow it just worked. We arrived
and a rich culture with Southeast Asian, Chinese
at the garage, talked about motorbikes and drank
and French influences. At its heart is the chaotic
green tea, which tastes oddly like grass water. From
Old Quarter, where the narrow streets are roughly
here we head over to the shop and talked more
arranged by trade. There are many little temples,
about motorbikes, had some more green tea and cof-
including Bach Ma, honouring a legendary horse,
fee. Plus I got to see some really cool 4x4's. We
plus Dong Xuan market, selling household goods
both stop off in the old quarter of Hanoi, where,
and street food.
remnants of when the French occupied the city
Area: 3,345 km²
move.
many years ago remain. After being treated to my
Founded: 1010
first bowl of noodle soup made with a traditional
Population: 7.5 million
broth I'm finally taken to my hotel in Hanoi central where I get chance to shower and have a stroll around Hanoi city. I can’t help becoming mesmerised by the way the traffic seems to constantly flow, hardly ever stopping even to let pedestrians across the street, zebra crossings around here mean nothing, there is an art
to crossing the road, either close your eyes and hope for the best or re-enact the 1980’s arcade game, Frogger. I grab some food from one of the local restaurants as I am feeling uncomfortable eating from one of the street food stalls, I am not sure my stomach will cope with the lack of hygiene just yet. Walking around the town I am constantly approached by street sellers and opportunists. There are a lot of
scooter taxis as well constantly asking if you want
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N
gọc arrived at the hotel at 08.00 sharp
tively smooth and safe tarmac to uneven gravel and
to collect me and take me to the shop to
large pot holes or big troughs in the road, often the
pick up the bikes. I will be riding a
road turns into a track all together, throwing the bike
Honda XR250 and Ngọc will be riding
up and down and making me fight for control to keep
a 125 equivalent. I strap my rucksack onto the back of
upright yet alone in a straight line. At times it becomes
the bike, usually they go in the 4x4 support vehicle.
really tiring and mentally exhausting.
We have a quick coffee and then head off through
We soon need fuel and for about £0.30 per litre it
town. It's manic, chaotic, crazy and fun at the same
doesn't cost much to fill a small tank on the 250cc XR.
time. I quickly realised you must use your horn to
Every once in a while we'll take a gravel path or track,
warn people, it's considered polite. I also realised that
drainage pipes often run across the path or track and
there is no real consistency as to traffic control or right
they can be heavily raised, if not careful they can easi-
of way, it would appear, if you beep first the other per-
ly catch you out as one did when Ngọc went over it, or
son should wait, but doesn't always work that way.
rather flew over it, his real wheel left the ground and
Young boys 2 up on 50cc plus scooters wheeling down
bounced approx. 2' in the air, he later found out he'd
the dual carriageway for a good few hundred yards and
damaged the screen on his laptop from the bump!!
then weaving in and out of cars as if though it was a normal day. Crazy. We head West out of the city towards our destination for this evening.
DAY 2
On route I
quickly realise how poor the country is, there seems to be improvement by the government but it's still not very noticeable, at least not on the roads as the condi-
tion of some stretches is appalling compared to Europe. The road will often suddenly change from rela8
As the day went on we came upon the rice fields,
rest goes to market or is exported. The lady owner
acres and acres of them with the whole family help-
and her husband were very friendly, the accommo-
ing to plant new crops now that the winter is almost
dation is also very nice and accommodating and
over. We arrive at our home stay accommodation,
clean. We were fed well with dishes consisting of
it's in a small village run by the whole family. In
chicken, goat, rice and chips. I wasn't too keen on
fact they occupy all 6 houses on the same stretch of
the chickens head and feet though!!
the village and own 100's of square meters of rice fields. Their main income is rice. They can harvest as much as 40 tonnes keeping 10 to themselves the
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owing new seedlings for the next rice crop. This is often a family affair where they all have a certain task to fulfil roll up their trousers and all get stuck in. Its hard work, harder than it looks bending over all day standing in 6 to 8� of muddy water
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DAY 3 12
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e head further West today, our
water served from a flask we head down the moun-
first part of the journey is 40km
tain. Eventually the weather improves and the sun
long trail with deep ruts made
even made a brief 10 minute appearance before
from the lorries. The mist was
we finally arrived at the hotel, parked the bikes and
heavy so it had made the clay soil very slippery, the
get cleaned up. Ngáť?c my guide cleans the bikes
inevitable happened, the front end slipped and I
whilst I go and shower. He looks after them like
fell. I wasn't going anymore than 15km p/h but I
they're his children but I guess you would if they
landed with a thud so much so I broke my helmet
were your livelihood.
cam. Undeterred, I hopped back on and carried on up
The hotel was comfy, clean and the food was terrific.
the slippery wet trail contributed by the fact they have
We ate a 300 year old recipe, fish that had been
had their longest ever winter here in Vietnam since
cooked for hours, free range cow, rice and some
they can remember. February isn't the best time to come, months.
October
and
November
are
pumpkin leaf washed down with a beer. Yum.
good
Early night tonight. Been a long and exhausting day. I
Towards the end of October just before
return to my room and finish washing my clothes of
they harvest the rice crops the scenery is magnificent.
the mud. Hang them up to dry ready for morning. It
Lashes bright green plantations all across the
was that cold my kit didn't have enough heat to dry
hillsides.
out so I resorted to using the hairdryer. It worked, just
o the road did get better by late morning as we head-
about. We tie our kit on the bikes and head North into
ed up into the mountain climbing to 1000m, however,
the mountains. The roads today were magnificent.
the weather didn't. A thick dense fog came down and
Long sweeping bends, ascents and descents with
reduced visibility to a mere 10m if lucky. Trucks and
magnificent views. I was in biker heaven! We stop a
cars overtaking on mountain bends without ant
couple of times in the day for coffee and a rest, each
consideration to what might be coming the other way.
time I can't help being mesmerised and intrigued by
It seems as if they didn't even notice the fog, they
the Vietnamese culture. How the H’mongs (cats) live
didn't even have lights on. We finally reach the top
in the north and how the Thai people live so separate
and grab a much needed coffee. Cold, wet and now
lives. It's an interesting culture it really is and so
muddy I was questioning myself as to why I am do-
worth researching and reading about them.
ing this. Warmed slightly from the luke warm coffee with
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The fog at the peak of the mountains was very thick and heavy. At times we were only able to see 5 meters ahead of us, keeping your eyes peeled for overtaking vehicles coming straight at you was tiring
The women are skilled at crafts and embroidery, you see them sat in the street in the nearby city selling their crafts
such as rugs, bags, hats all made in bright colours. The rice fields in the Highlands are amazing. Each layer is one generation. 14
The rice fields in the Highlands are amazing. Each layer is one generation.
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s we begin our decent into Sapa the temperature doesn't lift as I'd hoped. It's very cold, around 10°c and will get colder as the sun drops to about 6°c. The traffic is heavy, at a standstill, so we
filter through between the small gaps between the buses dodging taxis head on. Finally we find our hotel. Again, clean, smart and friendly similar to a European 3* hotel. The view from the room is lovely.
After a shower and change of clothes Ngáť?c and I head into town. It's Saturday and the last weekend of their new year celebrations, so it's packed with Thai people enjoying the last of their holiday. We stop to eat in a Chinese restaurant and then head further into town to sample the local food from the food market. It's a whole new experience and one I was apprehensive about to be honest. Nonetheless, we sit down, drink Apple Rice wine and pick on pig guts, aubergine and pork meat cooked on a barbecue surrounded by hundreds of people socialising, chatting, laughing and joking. its a really happy welcoming atmosphere, none threatening or intimidating in any
way. I lie here in my bed between crisp clean white bed linen in a warm hotel room, my phone plugged in on charge and I can't help thinking about the children I saw today, running around bare footed, bare minimal clothing munching on sweetcorn sat in bushes beside the road or playing with fire. They looked happy, they smiled as we rode past, most of them wave and shout "hello" to you, making you feel important making you feel acknowledged but someone who has so very little. Something so insignificant to us could have made their day. But it also made me feel great. They seem happy because they don't know any different. They don't have PlayStation, phones, TV etc. They amuse themselves with what they have, their dog, running water, some old wood, and old tyre or a wheel, it's so primitive to watch but so utterly simple, all they have to do is survive. They don't care
about cars, holidays or fashion. They exist only to live not to pay bills. I am beginning to genuinely think I need to change my aspect on life. It's so peaceful here, if something happens, it happens, you can't change it or go back in time, you break something, so what, why be upset and angry, what does that achieve?? Nothing at all.
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SAPA
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t's Sunday, we leave the mountain resort in the north and head south, as we descend, the thick heavy dense fog disperses leaving views across the lakes and surrounding mountain peaks all shadowing the numerous rice plantations. The day starts off cold. At best I'd say the temperature was 10°c. We leave the hotel and head straight into rush hour traffic and it is bloody manic. Cars, mopeds, taxis, lorries
and buses all fighting for the same space. One car even nudged me forward as he was so impatient and late for work perhaps but no one seems to get angry, they just beep more. Just as we're leaving a roundabout my clutch cable gives up. Shit! As I stand there with the bike, contemplating what to do and worrying if Ngọc will realise I'm not behind before he's miles up the road, I'm approached by a H’mong woman and her daughter. The daughter who is at a guess about 16 years old dressed in their traditional attire, just stood next to me smiling and muttering something I had no idea what about. I didn't feel intimidated,
I
just
wanted
to
make
sure
Ngọc
knew
what
had
happened
to
me.
Earlier he had told me that many westerners come here and meet the H’mong women, they buy them nice things, feed them and give them money, the H’mong woman then has sex with the westerner and the woman gets pregnant. The westerner then returns home and the Hamong woman can't get a husband because she has been spoilt. So she ends up alone with a child usually poor and begging. The H’mong people are not clean, they rarely wash which is another reason why they are called "cats" aside the fact they live up high, they only wash themselves a couple of times a month. They are often ugly and unappealing. At this point I'm wondering if the rush hour lunatics will actually run me over. At one point I have to lean the bike into the pavement so a car doesn't crush it. Eventually I start pushing it up the hill. I'm on the high pavement with all the kit on and then I see Ngọc coming towards me, I'd thought I'd lost him in the traffic but he realised I wasn't behind
and stopped just around the corner so Ngọc says "ride my bike and I ride this". I know riding without a clutch on a bike can be done but during rush hour traffic in a place where everyone wants to run you over... He jumps on and fires the bike up, lunging forward he's off, I follow and it's a battle to keep his bike in my sight yet alone wonder how on earth he is managing to negotiate the traffic without a clutch. Despite a couple of near misses we pull up outside what I guess is a garage in a quieter side Street. He jumps off, says some Vietnamese and then sets about removing a small package from his bike, as he does a lady sat on a miniature stool asks me to sit. So I do. Then she hands me some green tea and I sit there silent watching Ngọc fit a new clutch cable. By the time I finished the green tea he's done. Fixed the bike and we're ready to go. I thank the woman and we leave. Just like that. As we get lower the temperature shoots up to the low to mid 20's and I have to stop to remove a layer of clothing and also my waterproof trousers. After a short time we make it to the Chinese border. I have to walk on foot the last 100m as the road is closed for a festival. Ngọc stays with the bikes. I don't actually cross the bridge, which is one of 3 main entrances from Vietnam. Instead I stand and take a photo, so I can't claim I have been to China but nonetheless it's likely to be the closest I get to
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We stay mostly on the flat planes now, the road is winding with obstacles around every corner keeping you on your toes, everything from dogs, hens, kids, lorries you name it, even plenty of Buffalo shit, It's like a gigantic mole Hill in the road.We pass endless rows of wood stacked along the roadside. Leant against the embankment and stacked like playing cards would be at the lower level of a card tower. It turns out to be eucalyptus tree. They cut the tree and feed it through what can only be described as a planer. Shaving them into ply sheets. It's then stacked separately to dry and finally collected by lorries and taken to factories where they make plywood for cheap furniture.
Further on up the road there is what looks like construction works but it is heavy plant machinery excavating marble for statues. They also excavate limestone. Some of the work they produce is spectacular, every piece carved by hand. We pass through numerous small towns like the one below. The architecture is intriguing, it has a French colonial look about it. Vietnam was, many years ago occupied by the French and there is still evidence of it today, from buildings to the language. In Hanoi, there are many French buildings, an area called the French Town is predominantly French influence even though they moved out the previous century.
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The people here are so friendly. Everywhere we've been we are greeted with a smile and they offer you a seat. Then they hand you a small tea cup with green tea and they sit with you. Obviously I don't know the language very well, at all, so they tend to just sit and stare at me. Having a beard (partly ginger) and blue eyes must be a novelty, that and the fact I'm probably twice as heavy as them at 16st they think I'm a boxer or a Buda.
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I also notice how friendly and happy the kids are, as I wait for Ngáť?c to go an check out our home stay for the evening a young boy is sat on some wood string at me through the vegetation. He sees that I've noticed him and becomes shy, so I pull my camera out and ask if I can take his photo by pointing the camera at him. He peers around the post, I take the shot and then put my thumb up, he re-
turns the thumb gesture.
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e finally end the day at our home stay. The place is beautiful, set in a small village and
owned by and older couple. The lady owner greets me by taking my hand and holding it clasped between her hands. She is small and skinny, frail looking with teeth in a poor state, black as if from tar. She wears black with colourful embroidery work. As she
walks back into their living quarters accessed by several steps she takes 2 at a time, like some young child sprinting up the steps and amazes me. Clearly she is a spring chicken. They are very healthy people. Eat healthy food, drink healthy drinks and are always busy doing something, anything.
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In the evening we sit and it with the elders children, two sons and a daughter. The son is 28, married with
2 children, the daughter is 20 and not yet married, she says she has no time for marriage and the third child is an adopted son.
The children prepared the food for this evening as the elders had been invited to attend a festival. The elder is the villagers fortune teller, like a shaman. He is also a well respected man and an ambassador for the village. Later that evening he shows me a very old book made of rice paper and written in Chinese, it was the knowledge of his father and as such he learns from it, taking this knowledge to pass on to the next generation. The food was a feast, soya soup, fish soup, wild boar meat, pancake roll, fried cabbage, rice, potato and
rice cakes, homemade crisps were the main dishes. It was absolutely delicious.After we had eaten the elders arrived home. The father and mother sat with us upstairs in the living area. The father asked me to drink wine with him, so I obliged and we had several toasts of ginger rice wine. We also had a beer together. He was a very likeable man, always happy, laughing and smiling. The mother, she would chew on cocoa leaves rolled in limestone paste, it gives them a bit of a high and usually they start doing it in their 30:s. The downside is that it turns your teeth black as if you have a serious dental health issue.They are incredibly hospitable people, the father had returned from his fortune telling with a cooked whole chicken in his satchel and requested his son chopped it up and serve it to us despite the fact We'd just stuffed our faces. They are so generous. I am told of a story whereby when they travel to the poorest locations, the guide takes cake and drawing paper and pens to give to the children. Some of them as young as 2 or 3 are left at home to play in the road whilst the mother and father go off to the fields to work, it becomes the older brother or sisters job to look after them but the young children get hungry and they eat scraps from the road amongst the rubbish.
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I
am woken early by a Cockerel, again. I manage to get back to sleep but then woken by a dog barking an hour later. I did try and use my earplugs but I bought the wrong ones and they're too uncomfortable
to sleep with. By 6.30am I am wide awake as it sounds like the whole household are too. Whilst they are very quiet going about their business it was still a reminder that we need to get up and get going.
Breakfast was served. The elder ate with us and he was served meat, rice, chicken and soup, Ngáť?c had noodle soup and I was offered pancakes and honey which was delicious. A cup of coffee later and we are preparing to leave. I had sadness inside as the stay here was so warm and inviting and I didn't want to leave so early. The older children had already left to work on the farm. I sat finish-
ing my coffee watching the elder mother grooming her hair from their private area. A reminder of the simplistic way of life, as she squatted and brushed the very long hair. The children play and it is a joy to watch, they don't have fancy electronics or hi tech games, just each other and whatever is around them to amuse themselves and yet they seem very happy. It's time to go. I am feeling sad.
I say goodbye to the children and the two elders. They are such wonderful people, they have looked after us well and they will be missed. As we set off down the bumpy, dusty track to join the main route once again, I am thinking deeply about how simple life is here, I understand its a whole different culture out here but can't help thinking that I live in such a hectic country with such disrespect for family, love, happiness and simplicity try and put it in the back of my mind and concentrate on the riding. Every stretch of road has some sort of hazard as I've said before and you have to keep your wits about you. We pass more farmlands and I have dodge and weave around branches placed across the lane to stop people riding
or driving over their seeds, corn or beat lying in the road to dry. At the end of the day they come and pick it all up and it's placed in sacks. Some they keep and some they sell at market, to the locals or on the side of the road. The farmers always seem to be working hard. We continue along the riverbank and come to huge mounds of sand and grit, scooped up by big barges on the river. It's used for all manner of building works. That's the thing about this country, other than some vehicles, virtually everything is farmed, made or manufactured here. They are incredibly self sufficient people. They do however export a lot of goods, vehicles and clothing. You will probably have seen a lot of it on Ebay. I love the fact they still use primitive tools and machinery to achieve everyday tasks. Some farmers still use water buffalo and ploughs, whereas the younger generation have been tempted by the use of motorised vehicles making life easier and quicker but the farming princi-
ples and traditional methods remain.
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their home in the corner. We continue south for the last leg of the journey into Hanoi. Suddenly we end up
on a motorway, the twist is that the moment is still being built and the surface beneath us is nothing more than excavated rubble, gravel and dirt. It's uneven and incredibly bumpy, precarious in fact and I'm beginning to wonder if this is a good idea. We weave side to side in an effort to avoid the largest of the holes, some are as deep as 12" or more. When I finally see ahead that the road appears to change to tarmac there is a giant mound of dirt blocking our exit. It would be foolish to try negotiate it so we turn around and back up a few hundred yards before finally finding a gap in the embankment with slope hopefully not steep enough for our bikes to get up. We make it and after a bit of weaving we end up on hard surface. That doesn't mean to say it's much better, just not as precarious!!
Here the woman is feeding a young baby and serving customers
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My last farewell's to the homestay fami-
ly who provided me with such wonderful hospitality, comfy bed, delicious food, what more could you ask for
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W
e finally arrive back in Hanoi. The exact same location from where we started 4 days ago. It's almost overwhelming to arrive back and to be greeted by a waiting party of Ngáť?c''s friends, Co workers and family.
I take a huge breath of relief and feel like I have just accomplished an adventure, for me it was an expedition, and a journey I know only a few people have been fortunate to make. It has for the time being, changed my outlook on life and made me realise how self-
ish we are as a nation. I never once on this trip encountered any hostility towards me. Vietnam has a lot of history and many stories to tell. It has been through some awful times during the war yet they still welcome westerners with open arms. Either because it is their income or because they are simply genuinely loving people, either way they choose to embrace our willingness to visit and learn about them. The new generations of Vietnamese have a different outlook, they want to use modern materials and techniques and I think the older generation have become to accept it more easily. Vietnam had followed the same traditions and practices for many hundreds of years and it is only really since the war that has made the country edge forward into modernisation.
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It's my last full day in Vietnam. Having been woken by the sounds of beeping horns, engine revving and shouting, I realise I preferred being woken by the sounds of Cockerels and dogs. The horns are a stark reminder you are in the city and not the countryside. After breakfast, consisting of hot dog sausages and rice on the top floor of the Diamond Hotel. I head off to the North of town to visit Ho Chi Minh Mausoleum. As I'm leaving the hotel, I bump into Ngáť?c in the reception. He kindly returned my SD memory card that I'd lost at one of the home stays a couple of days ago. He called them a day earlier and asked if they'd seen it.
It's tiny, the size of a fingernail but they somehow found it under the table I sat at. They have better eyesight than I have. He also gave me a set of canvas saddle bags in army green colour. I said to Ng�c I liked them a lot and would really love a set so he kindly gave me some. I decide to take the backstreets to the Mausoleum, I often find its where all the best bits are, locals living their daily normal life away from the chaos of the tourist rat race. I end up walking into what I think is a wedding, a barbers shop and some traditional Street food vendors. As I near the Ho Chi Minh Mausoleum I am constantly asked by moped taxis if I want a ride. I get bored of saying "khong cam on" (No, thanks). I pass the military museum, visible from the road side is an aircraft from the 70's during the war and some other small military vehicles‌.
31
of the bike to keep them dry. Finally, after slipping and sliding on the smooth polished marble pave-
ment, now that it's wet and I stupidly decided to wear flip flops, I arrive at the Mausoleum. As I look for the entrance I am told to carry on walking several times by arm guards. I walk past the building for the Ministry of Affairs, a heavily guarded property painted in mustard yellow. I keep walking, and walking...
Finally after 1.5
miles I find the entrance next to a coffee shop. The temptation was too great, besides I'd walked for over
I keep walking with the intention to visit on the way
an hour and built up a thirst. Coffee drank I head for
back. It starts to rain, or rather spit. A light drizzle
the entrance, only to be told it's now closed!! It only
but all of a sudden all the scooter riders (90% off all
opens between 8.30-10.30 weekdays. Brilliant.
traffic) start to put their waterproof sheets on. It's
It seems if you want go sightseeing places of interest
more like a poncho that goes over them and the front
in Hanoi you need to shit the bed! I head back to the military museum, turned away, it's now closed! I head back to the hotel and decide to get something to eat on the way, taking a different back Road route this time. I love spending time off the main routes, the tourists don't venture this far off the main roads so I get a chance to see the "real Vietnam" and not the glitzy tourist tack. I come across a Ducati pengalle cafe racer And see a Harley Davidson of all places I head back to the Hotel.
of the bike to keep them dry. Finally, after slipping and sliding on the smooth polished marble pavement, now that it's wet and I stupidly decided to wear
flip flops, I arrive at the Mausoleum. As I look for the entrance I am told to carry on walking several times by arm guards. I walk past the building for the Ministry of Affairs, a heavily guarded property painted in mustard yellow. I keep walking with the intention to visit on the way back. It starts to rain, or rather spit. A light drizzle but all of a sudden all the scooter riders (90% off all traffic) start to put their waterproof sheets on. It's
more like a poncho that goes over them and the front
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I'm determined not to let the memories of this
stick. I do admittedly have a very sore backside,
journey drift away like almost every other trip or
actually, I think it's become deformed. The bike
adventure. Understandably I live in the western
did well, very well. The terrain we have travelled
world and the western world is a far cry from the
across has at times been only fit for serious moto-
simplicity that exits here. The majority of Viet-
cross bikes, but each time the machine surprised
namese people have very little in comparison, yet
me. In fact I surprised myself that I didn't die at
they are incredibly social, happy people with no
times. Across hundreds of kilometres the only re-
further outlook on life that the day they live. They
pair to both bikes was a thin cable when the clutch
exist to feed themselves, look after their family
snapped but was fixed in lightening fast time by
and have good friends around them. They family
my guide.
orientated, unlike the Brits, they have big gather-
If you have read this and you feel inspired I
ings and spend much time as a unit, simply enjoying life and their beliefs. Buddhism is the main religion here and they pray for prosperity, happiness and health.
strongly suggest you book a tour to Vietnam. Surely this story of my journey is enough to inspire. www.guidedmotorbiketours.co.uk provide several options and cater not just for British people
They have many traditions to which westerners
but anyone in Europe who wants to join our ad-
will snub at. I think it's because we simply don't
venture are also welcome. It's such a humbling
understand and have been educated in a different
experience, it isn't an adventure where reading
way. They also have Catholics here, around 10%
about such experiences of others is enough to truly
are. As I stand at my hotel window looking down
make you understand how powerful the memories
at the busy Street below, I watch the locals shout-
are that you are left with. I want to return to the
ing, yelling, stopping to talk to one another, ex-
UK with this feeling and inspiration to change cer-
changing goods, buying vegetables and so on, the
tain aspects of my life. How long it will last before
atmosphere, although a little hectic in my eyes, is
I am thrust back into my own reality of Western
a joy to watch, there is a definitive vibe, an easily
living will soon be determined. Leaving the hotel
recognisable buzz of happiness and we'll being.
in the car provided for me by them I begin to feel
People happily greeting each other and smiling,
sad. I feel I have only just smudged the surface of
laughing.
this country and can't wait to return to explore
This is nearly the end of my short journey. I came
more. I am also happy to be returning to my
to Vietnam to meet a new business partner, to form a relationship thousands of miles apart spanning many continents and with such completely different cultures. I was apprehensive, unsure if
family, I have missed them. One thing is certain for sure, this is just the begin to discovering the world on two wheels, I realise how simple it is in today's
what I would discover and if I would feel competent alien in this far away country that holds so much history especially with the westerners. I was anxious about the reception I would receive from people, would they be inquisitive or hostile. I have enjoyed every moment of being on my 2004 Honda XR250 even if the seat was the size of a chop 33
Last words I sit in the airport watching the world go by, people scurrying from one flight to the next, Asians and Indians,
Muslims and Australians, even French and German all milling around like ants. An English couple catch my attention, they seem tense and nervous, almost stressed. They become obnoxious towards the woman who is serving them tea., telling her off in their stammered English because they misunderstood her. It's often funny to listen to foreigners who don't speak the same language, they begin speaking the same as the foreigner with poor broken English as If it's going to help.
The two guys belonging to a group of 4 are now literally sweating at the brow, becoming more agitated by the woman who doesn't understand their English. Perhaps if they spoke normally she may have understood but their patronising accent seems to have done the job on confusing everyone.
For some reason When British travel they make themselves stand out so much. Just be natural, wear natural clothes and do research. Above all, respect them as they would you, the Vietnamese are friendly people, if at times understandably nervous but overall I had an overwhelming welcome from everyone I met.
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Thank you for reading If this inspired you why not join us on one of our adventures
Get in touch Www.guidedmotorbiketours.co.uk
hello@guidedmotorbiketours.co.uk +44 (0)330 111 0112
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