No Fixed Abode: Careful what you wish for

Thu 24 Mar 2016 - Easy Rider Motorcycle trip day 1

Yesterday, by a combination of search and review web sites, we finally identified an easy rider company so at 0820 we were in the hotel reception waiting for the arrival of two drivers from Vietnam Easy Riders. Right on time at 0830 Hi and Hari arrived and got to work securing our bags to the back of their bikes telling us to relax inside. We liked these guys already. Before long we were off, bedecked in knee and elbow armour and helmets.

After riding through the countryside for a while we joined a smart new road that wound around the lake we’d visited yesterday and then, unexpectedly, we pulled over, the guys took our helmets, told us to start walking and drove off. A little concerned that we’d been mugged off we duly complied and when we rounded the next corner an impressive vista greeted us. A brand new, impressive golf resort set in the bottom of a newly terraced valley. When we caught up with the guys they explained that the local farmers had been moved on by the government and this prestigious resort built to attract the tourists. From one extreme to the other we drove on a little further and drew up at the Chicken village, so called because of the large concrete chicken that celebrates an old tale about - you’ve heard it all before - rich guy meets poor girl, they fall in love but rich family forbid the marriage, girl dies while trying to find a special chicken that doesn’t exist.

In the village we met a lady weaving a 20cms strip of silk/cotton fabric using a heath robinson loom with several weighted strings that were attached to different collections of the warps. She would pass the weft backwards and forwards a few times and then, by skilfully pulling the weighted strings, she could remove some of the warps from the weave to produce a very complex pattern, which she explained was traditional to her clan. Goodness knows how she kept track of where she was. Working for a day she could produce just 2m of the fabric and with a total of 2 weeks of weaving, sewing and hemming could be made into the most beautiful tablecloths. If only we had the storage to bring one home.

Saying our goodbyes to her we were handed bags of sweets by Hi and told to walk down the street. “Don't worry” he said “the children will find you” and before long lots of scruffy little children had spotted us and made a beeline towards us with their dirty hands held open. Trying to ensure the sweets were distributed as fairly as possible we emptied our bags in 30 secs flat, said our goodbyes then reboarded the bikes.

On our way we made several stops visiting: a passion fruit field - they grow from vines by the thousand; a field of tea bushes, where Hi explained the difference between green and black tea; three varieties of coffee plants; and a cashew nut plantation. A cashew nut grows inside a large pod that hangs beneath a cashew apple. The pod is filled with a toxic juice, to prevent birds eating it, and has undergo treating before the nut can be safely extracted. We’ll never again moan about the price of a bag of cashews.

At the top of a mountain pass we pulled over for lunch in a local cafe. Hi showed us to a table then went off to order a selection of dishes for us to share. Showing off our proficiency with the chopsticks we tucked in while our senses were assaulted with a host of flavours and smells. Lovely.

With bloated stomachs (we’d already had a large breakfast as we were uncertain of lunch arrangements) we paid the tiny bill and set off once more. Over lunch Glenn had mentioned that he’d quite like to see some rain as it’s been hot and dry for over a month now. With that said some rather ominous clouds began to form.

Winding our way along mountain roads through green fields of every shape and size and rural villages where pot bellied pigs and oxen roamed, we encountered the Vietnam we’d been searching for. It was difficult to know where to look next.

Before too long we pulled over at another cafe, this time for a drink and to relax in the hammocks hanging beneath a thatched pavilion. With a fresh coconut in hand and the gentle swaying of the hammock Glenn soon became snoozy and just as he began to nod off it started to rain so he fell asleep to the patter of a gentle shower on the bamboo thatch.

With the others becoming restless Glenn eventually stirred from his slumber and we all set off once more down the damp but quickly drying roads. Our final stop was at a bridge across an arm of a large lake. Unsure what we’d stopped for we were ushered along the bridge to join some other easy rider passengers who were looking over the handrails. Copying them we set our eyes upon an incredible floating village. This was no tourist reed fest but a collection of metal houses sat atop bamboo rafts and complete with gardens, dogs, playing children, solar panels and satellite TV dishes. Hi explained that they are all fish farmers who keep the fish beneath their houses and sell them to a buyer who turns up in a truck every month. Everyday a street vendor calls at the bridge and lowers the things they need down to them using ropes attached to the handrail. Great system.

With the last 30km ahead of us and the sun getting low we donned an extra layer and made our way through another light shower and down to the plains with vast green fields of rice and villages with stilt houses.

Once at the hotel we washed the day’s dirt from our bodies, discovered the wifi then met Hi And Hari who took us to the centre of town for some street food. In our travels we’ve passed many street vendors but never had the courage to try their food - what a mistake. Seated on children’’s plastic stools at small plastic tables we were served pork and shrimp pancakes, which Hi showed us to wrap in rice paper with mustard leaves to form a large spring roll - so tasty. While we stuffed our faces we learned about their lives and loves and shared some of our life with them. A great end to a great first day. Roll on tomorrow.