My experiences in Hanoi had been varied, but I was finally in possession of my motorcycle and raring to go. I'd also acquired a riding partner, an experienced motorcyclist called Shawn from Essex, whose nous I thought would be valuable given my own lack of experience on the bike! After the customary last-minute preparations, we were ready to roll to Mai Chau, a town some one hundred and fifty kilometres west of Hanoi.
However, we were immediately faced with the problem of how to get out of Hanoi, for there is a conspicuous absence of road signs. After much vacillation, we enlisted the help of a young man on a motorbike who guided us through the Hanoi chaos (see the video at the bottom) and onto the open road. Survival tip #1: don't try to ride too quickly through the traffic. It's extremely unpredictable and gaps quickly close up, as you can see from the footage!
Once we were clear of the city, the road opened up more, though the traffic was still ridiculous. Shawn was flying through the cars, lorries and motorbikes with variable results (see the video), whereas I was a little more measured to begin with, especially as lorries were randomly pulling out into my path and coming onto the wrong side of the road, beeping their horns as though I was somehow on the wrong side of the road! The road culture is simple: the biggest has right of way, everyone else lets them through and you go where you like or have to! The bike was proving simple to ride and, as I said before, a competent car driver can ride a motorcycle with ease. Even with a pack on the back and a driver weighing in at two hundred and nine pounds, the bike handles nicely and accelerates well, certainly enough to get out of any trouble.
What struck me most about the journey was how the landscape changed so rapidly. The day was a grey one in Hanoi and this was reflected in its immediate environs, where the buildings and road seemed to mirror the colour of the sky. As the day wore on, the road climbed into the mountains, becoming more winding and, frankly, interesting as we rode further. Also striking was the behaviour of the people, which had shifted from indifference in Hanoi to active friendliness: people waved, children shouted, "Hello!" and the traffic was slightly more accommodating. Regional agrarian life also became more apparent, with women lugging huge baskets of wood and sugar cane on their backs or selling local produce by the side of the road. We stopped in Hoa Binh for lunch, where more friendliness readily manifested itself in the form of fellow diners, who insisted that we drank rice wine with them. This could very easily have got out of hand, for they kept pouring more and more shots of wine, but they relented when we explained (through sign language) that we still had a number of kilometres to ride to Mai Chau. We left soon after, though they were showing little sign of stopping!
After a couple of hours, it was time to pause for a drink and a photo or two. I pulled into a lay-by and met my second (very random) act of friendliness. Coming to a stop, a young Vietnamese lady came running towards me, screaming excitedly and brandishing a camera and mobile 'phone. Slightly perturbed at first, I then realised that she wanted a photograph and my 'phone number! She was accompanied by two male friends who found the whole episode intensely amusing, as did Shawn. "You handsome," she said, pushing her 'phone into my face and gesturing that I should put in my number. I was unable to give her the number, not knowing it, but we exchanged details and many photographs before going on my way. I think that I laughed all the way to Mai Chau afterwards.
The road continued to wind towards Mai Chau and, after another two hours of riding, we were greeted by the following view on the approach to the city:
I've been recording the rides with a Sony ActionCam mounted on my helmet. The results have been very good, though sometimes the changes in temperature on mountain roads result in fogging of the lens. When clear, the picture is of extremely good quality; here's my first offering:
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| I meant business. |
Once we were clear of the city, the road opened up more, though the traffic was still ridiculous. Shawn was flying through the cars, lorries and motorbikes with variable results (see the video), whereas I was a little more measured to begin with, especially as lorries were randomly pulling out into my path and coming onto the wrong side of the road, beeping their horns as though I was somehow on the wrong side of the road! The road culture is simple: the biggest has right of way, everyone else lets them through and you go where you like or have to! The bike was proving simple to ride and, as I said before, a competent car driver can ride a motorcycle with ease. Even with a pack on the back and a driver weighing in at two hundred and nine pounds, the bike handles nicely and accelerates well, certainly enough to get out of any trouble.
What struck me most about the journey was how the landscape changed so rapidly. The day was a grey one in Hanoi and this was reflected in its immediate environs, where the buildings and road seemed to mirror the colour of the sky. As the day wore on, the road climbed into the mountains, becoming more winding and, frankly, interesting as we rode further. Also striking was the behaviour of the people, which had shifted from indifference in Hanoi to active friendliness: people waved, children shouted, "Hello!" and the traffic was slightly more accommodating. Regional agrarian life also became more apparent, with women lugging huge baskets of wood and sugar cane on their backs or selling local produce by the side of the road. We stopped in Hoa Binh for lunch, where more friendliness readily manifested itself in the form of fellow diners, who insisted that we drank rice wine with them. This could very easily have got out of hand, for they kept pouring more and more shots of wine, but they relented when we explained (through sign language) that we still had a number of kilometres to ride to Mai Chau. We left soon after, though they were showing little sign of stopping!
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| The smiling assassins. Can be very dangerous if self-restraint is not exercised. |
After a couple of hours, it was time to pause for a drink and a photo or two. I pulled into a lay-by and met my second (very random) act of friendliness. Coming to a stop, a young Vietnamese lady came running towards me, screaming excitedly and brandishing a camera and mobile 'phone. Slightly perturbed at first, I then realised that she wanted a photograph and my 'phone number! She was accompanied by two male friends who found the whole episode intensely amusing, as did Shawn. "You handsome," she said, pushing her 'phone into my face and gesturing that I should put in my number. I was unable to give her the number, not knowing it, but we exchanged details and many photographs before going on my way. I think that I laughed all the way to Mai Chau afterwards.
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| East-West rapprochement. |
Reading about such scenery was largely why I decided to take this trip and I was staggered to find that the reality was no different. As we admired the view over a Coke, we were greeted by an equally amazing sight. A cyclist came into view and came to halt at the viewpoint. As he dismounted, I noticed that he only had one leg! His name was Ludo and he had been cycling since April, when he had left his home country of Belgium, with the aim being to reach Australia. He must have been in his mid-fifties and had lost the lower half of his left leg in a motorcycling accident, which he told me in a cautionary tone. Seeing this reminded me that, as enjoyable as my trip is, there are those out there accomplishing far greater feats and that disaster potentially lies around every corner.
We moved on, finding that Mai Chau is picture-book Vietnam and provides a stark contrast with Hanoi. Stilt houses abound and the people are largely engaged in agriculture, with the conical Vietnamese hats poking out from the rice paddies wherever one casts his gaze.
It had been an awesome day, made better by the unexpected excellent weather (I had been told in Hanoi that it would be colder out this way) and, after checking in at the Mai Chau Nature Lodge (VND100,000 for a communal room), I went to sleep content with my day's work.
The Video.
I've been recording the rides with a Sony ActionCam mounted on my helmet. The results have been very good, though sometimes the changes in temperature on mountain roads result in fogging of the lens. When clear, the picture is of extremely good quality; here's my first offering:
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