No Fixed Abode: Dangerous Abyss

Sun 03 Apr 2016 - Around Phong Nha National Park

We awoke to the sound of thunder gentle rumbling around us and walked to the dining room in light rain. It soon cleared up, however, and we set off on the scooter for the Mooc Springs Eco Trail.

In the fresher, clearer air the journey there was spectacular with the jagged karst peaks jutting abruptly up from the verdant fields and calling us to make many stops for photos or just standing by the side of the road listening to the sounds of the jungle.

After a slow pleasurable ride we arrived at a wet, muddy car park interspersed with incomplete concrete structures - clearly the Eco Trail was a work in progress. At the crude bamboo admission hut we sat for a drink and looked at the brochure. We had expected a lengthy trail through the jungle to the spring complete with monkey bridge crossings, however, it was more of a river swimming, high ropes fun park with a 600m walk thrown in. Not for us.

With the sun now out we decided to jump on our scooter and follow our noses for a while. We soon passed Paradise cave, from yesterday, and eventually reached the crossroads for the mountain track home. With time on our hands we took the opposite turn and headed up to the cave temple of the eight martyrs. There was a large car park, a few buildings and a large concrete frieze depicting scenes from the war but nothing in English to explain what it commemorated. In ignorance we retraced our path to the crossroads and the mountain track home. Taking it slowly to enjoy the jungle in the sunlight (and the dry!), Yvonne recalled passing a botanical garden so we headed there.

Passing many other foreigners on moped/motorcycles on the road we arrived at the gardens where we chatted with the girl on the reception who pleaded with Glenn to marry her so she could get a visa and come to England: the first Vietnamese person we’ve met who wanted to leave. Gracefully declining, amidst the titters of Yvonne, we paid our admission fee, collected our photocopied map and set off into the jungle.

First stop was a ‘display centre’ that comprised of a few dried leaves, some tree samples and the mangiest looking stuffed animals you’ve ever seen - an auspicious start. Next was the animal recuperation centre, which was a few wire mesh cages that didn’t seem to contain anything. Ah well, off to the lake. Well, by lake they meant small pool of 2m depth complete with inner tube life ring and buoyed off area with a sign stating you would drown if you couldn’t swim - some subtlety doubtless lost in translation. Beginning to feel disappointed we set off for the peacock enclosure. On the way we met a group of young girls who warned us not to set our hopes too high and, sure enough, the one ropey looking peacock in the wire enclosure looked far from splendid.

Stopping now and then to listen to the chirruping of the crickets and the strange calls of the birds we made our way to the last attraction, the waterfall. Despite the sign at the top warning us of a ‘dangerous abyss’ (doubtless another translation foible) it actually turned out to be quite pretty and we descended the wooden steps down ‘the abyss’ to see it in its full glory from below. Back at the top we sat in the cool breeze admiring the view and wondered if we should have expected more. To be honest we did pass plenty of trees with name tags attached, just like we would at home, but as we didn’t recognise any of the names it was wasted on us.

On the way back to the entrance we passed the recuperation centre and stopped for a closer look. Once at the cages’ edge we did find a couple of tortoises, some form of mammal curled up asleep and the biggest snake we’ve ever seen.

By now the afternoon was almost over and we cruised down the hill into the village, stopping now and then to enjoy the wonderful landscape in the low sunlight. The ride home along the main highway was simply stunning. Women tending the rice fields, buffalo being herded home and children milling around all bathed in the golden light of the setting sun.

Back at the hotel we had a long chat with the Australian guy and Vietnamese lady owners who explained that the eight martyrs were eight ladies who provided food to anyone that needed it in the war years. During a bombing raid they had fled into the cave to seek cover and a bomb had dislodged a large rock which sealed them in. Their death is commemorated by many Vietnamese, especially over Tet (Vietnamese New Year).