Ba Be and the Return to Hanoi.

Leaving Tinh Tuc with a sore head, the ride to Cho Ra, the closest town to Ba Be, was a straightforward one, becoming easier as my hangover subsided. The only drawback was my chain flying off again, making me stop to reattach it. Chairman Mao was still going fine, though the gears were still very clunky indeed and starting to frustrate me. The only event of note, and one which should act as caution to others, both human and porcine, was a piglet's near-death experience: three little pigs ran out in front of, two fast enough to avoid me while the third gave me no options, with gravel lurking ominously around. The little porker took the full force of both my wheels, much to my horror. I stopped and turned to see the piglet writhing on the floor and, resigning myself to having to finish the job, I hopped off the bike, at which point he suddenly jumped up and ran off to join his two comrades, his bacon very much saved. Phew.

Chairman Mao came along for the ride.

Arriving in Ba Be around midday, the ranger at the entrance told me the national park was full that night (book ahead if you’re desperate to stay there) and that I should use a guesthouse outside the park. He told me to go to the second one on the road to Cho Ra; its name escapes me, unfortunately, for this is being written some days after I was there, but the owner was friendly, helpful and spoke very good English. The facilities are Spartan but this is to be expected in a national park, I think. Ba Be is relatively remote and building materials will be expensive, so the rooms were constructed of wood and seemed to be in a rather large extension to an existing building. The walls separating the rooms are made of plywood and sounds travels very easily, so if you’re the private type, somewhere else may be necessary. It was reasonable at VND160,000 for the night, while the food was good and the internet access pretty reliable.

The owner asked if I wished to tour the park that day and, sensing a rip-off, I claimed to have already arranged something. By chance a Czech named Petr had arrived for lunch and told me that the owner of the guesthouse had suggested a tour which would enable us to see all the sights in daylight for the same price as that within the park, except sharing would see us pay only VND280,000 each rather than the full VND560,000 for the boat. I agreed and we went to the boat station, where my bike was loaded onto the boat for the ride back.

The Moon Cave, Ba Be National Park.

 The three main sights in the park are the Moon Cave, the waterfall and the lakes themselves. All three are worth the trip and being on the boat gives access to a world which one might not see otherwise. The park is also home to some minority people, mainly Tay, who are paid by the government not to chop down trees or eat wildlife other than fish. They paddle in their canoe-type boats, sticking to what is clearly a traditional way of life, while ferries carry both locals and tourists between villages, complete with animals, motorcycles, bags of rice and other such things.

The tour will land you in the Moon Cave for a look around, while the waterfall is around a ten minute walk from the landing spot. The cruise finishes on the lakes, dropping passengers at a landing spot by the hotels and restaurants. It really is a worthwhile trip and worth the small inconvenience of getting there: a French couple’s struggles on public transport indicated that getting your own wheels is the way to go.

The following morning saw a hasty return to Hanoi; the road from Ba Be to Hanoi, via Bac Kan and Thai Nguyen, is a superb one: straight with open bends for long stretches and well-surfaced. As you approach Hanoi, the road becomes more congested, of course, and more caution is required, but quick progress can be made. I rather recklessly decided to play in the traffic, as recorded in a later post.

In need of some comfort after two weeks on hard beds and with lukewarm showers, I checked into the Essence Hotel (US$60 per night) for the night, revelling in the hot shower and comfortable bed. I had been frustrated in my attempts to get myself and the bike onto a train to Dong Hoi (five hundred kilometres equalled two days’ driving on Highway 1, which I couldn’t afford) due to the approach of Tet, and so I was resigned to spending New Year’s Eve with my nemesis, the night bus.