No Fixed Abode: Shots in the Dark

Tue 05 Apr 2016 - Motorbike tour day 1, Hanoi to Mai Chau

Vietnam rail has managed a miraculous feat of engineering - somehow it has managed to make a railway track that is more bumpy than the roads! Aligned with an air conditioning system that seemed to make it hotter inside than out, and periodic stops accompanied by PA announcements, we didn’t get the best night’s sleep.

Awoken abruptly by the guard opening the compartment door with his master key and shouting something in Vietnamese, probably “wake up”, we wearily got dressed and watched the damp Hanoi streets leip slowly past the window. When the train came to stop we got off and followed the masses to the exit, where we were instantly accosted by several taxi drivers all asking “where you go”. Ignoring them we found the address of the hostel we’d been given by the tour company, found an official metered taxi and set off through the streets of Hanoi. After passing a park full of exercising locals we turned down a rather dingy looking street and the cabbie edged along until he came to the number we’d give him - a dirty looking place selling food. He looked inquiringly at Glenn, who jumped out to see what he could find, which was a bunch of locals, no of whom spoke English, and no sign of a hostel. There was nothing for it but to go to the office. The taxi dropped us at the shuttered door at 0600 and we sat on the step to await someone’s arrival.

It was quite fascinating watching the city the come alive. The street vendors opposite lugged huge vats of noodles for the nation’s staple, large blocks of tofu were chopped into manageable chunks and customers slowly drifted in to grab their noodle soup breakfast. Glenn to a walk to try and find an open cafe but only found other couples also sitting on the steps of various hostels awaiting their opening.

Eventually a young lad appeared, locked our large bags in the office then lead us through the streets to a place we could grab a shower - the place we’d first visited! Looking at each with some concern we followed him along a dirty passage, up a grubby staircase then surface into a smart looking dormitory room with a great shower. Once clean we were shown up some further stairs to a rooftop bar where we were made some coffee.

Soon we were shown back downstairs and introduced to our tour riders Hoa and Chien (pronounced wa and jin) on a couple of mopeds. As they were struggling to get their mouths around ‘Yvonne’ they christened her Mae (yellow flower) before whisking us to the office where we completed the necessary paperwork then shot off down a few more streets to grab some breakfast and find the proper bikes that we would use for the next 6 days. While waiting for the the guys to load our bags we met Gunnar, a young guy from Iceland, who was going to follow us on his own bike for the first day.

Following a short stop for fuel, at which Gunner decided to make his own way and meet us tonight, we set off through to the outskirts of Hanoi to the bank of the Red River. Passing hundreds of allotments we wound our way along the flood bank until we reach our first stop - a bonsai farm. We were introduced to the owner, Mt Ha, and shown the many trees, the oldest of which is 600 years, he and his forefathers of looked after. Enquiring about the awards on his wall it seems Mr Ha is a bit of a celebrity and only needs to sell one tree a month to make a good living. Many of the young trees in his care will make money for his grandchildren.

Once out of town we turned off the highway and took a cross country route through the rice fields. Literally through the rice fields along the small embankments that separate them. Sometimes less than a metre wide - no room for error. Once back on the road we passed a wood workshop producing huge wooden mock vases for display in hotel foyers and then hit an amazing scenic combination of rice fields interspersed with karst outcrops. We wound our way through the outcrops for some time until we joined the main highway, which goes over a high mountain pass. As we climbed higher and higher the temperature fell and we eventually hit the cloud line. Starting to feel a little chilly we crossed the saddle and were presented with a great view of the valley below and the small town of Mai Chau, where we would spend the night.

Whilst taking photos and admiring the view we met Marco, a young Italian guy who had travelled up from Saigon by bike. Hoa recognised it as one of theirs and the two of them were soon talking bike and places to stay. Before long Marco had been invited to stay with us for the night and followed us down the winding pass, through the town and into the small village of wooden stilt houses to the homestay we were to spend the night.

After being shown to room on the upper floor of the stilt house we found our mattress resting on the floor of bamboo surrounded by a mosquito net - tonight was going to be interesting. Returning to the open space beneath the house we were reunited with Gunnar and spent the next half an hour drinking tea and beer and learning about each other’s travel stories. Before long a few of the local family members joined us and a magnificent array of food was spread over the table for us to tuck into, including a bowl of grubs - something new for us all to try (pretty tasteless actually).

As the meal progressed several bottles of rice wine (think vodka) appeared and before long toast after toast was called followed by a rousing chorus of “một - hai - ba - vô (one - two - three - cheers)” after which the wine was necked and the shot glasses slammed back down on the table. Needless to say the night got increasingly noisier with Marco proving particularly good fun as he sat amongst the local copying everything they said and did. It also became clear that the westerners were struggling with Hoa’s name so he was christened ‘flower’ (apparently the meaning of his name).

When all the bottles were empty and the plates cleared away a small band set up its instruments and seven ladies in local costume appeared to perform a selection of customary songs and dances ending, as you’d imagine, with everyone joining in the bamboo dance. Tired and slightly sozzled we climbed the steep stairs and fell into bed. A great evening!