BANGKOK TO HANOI
2244 Km – 30 Days
1
September – 30 September 2017
MAP
PHOTOS - THAILAND
PHOTOS - LAOS
PHOTOS - VIETNAM
THAILAND (11.1)
1 September – 12 September
1 September - Bangkok –
Phanat Nikhom – 75 km
We were umming and ahhing
which route to take but, in the end, decided to stick to the original plan. I’m
not sure the taxi ride out of the city did any good as, upon being dropped off,
we were still in the thick of things. There was nothing to do but pull up our
big girl panties and face the traffic out of Bangkok. Thirty kilometres later, a
rural road finally emerged. It came as both a relief and pleasure to find
ourselves in the countryside, revealing bright-green rice paddies, blue skies,
and colourful temples. Firmly entrenched in the land of friendly Thai people, we
were offered drinking water and a shop owner gifted us drinking yoghurt; how
kind. Our path continued until reaching Phanat Nikhom, home to the world’s
largest woven basket. A caring lady pointed out comfortable digs near food and
the ever-present 7-Eleven.
2 September - Phanat
Nikhom – Sronlaihomestay – 70 km
Our path followed rural roads,
making a pleasurable ride through the countryside. Our route went past wetlands
and farmlands, where pineapples, cassava and papayas formed the principal crop.
A stand sold pineapples, and again, the lady wanted no remuneration. It made me
feel guilty as they have little, and we were on an extended holiday, and fed by
them.
The vast rubber tree
plantations pedalled past generally featured spirit houses. Typically, spirit
houses were to honour earth spirits who lived on the land before clearing, thus
providing them with alternative accommodation. An idyllic spot offered cottages
and a place to camp. The availability of kayaks allowed rowing on the lake, a
lovely end to a day of cycling.
3 September - Sronlaihomestay
– Khlong Hat – 87 km
Tania was up at the crack
of dawn, and by the time I surfaced, she was already packed and rearing to go. A
lovely ride along the dam wall brought us to Khlong Takrao, from where the road
led to Khlong Hat. The cycle was enjoyable, mostly along country lanes and past
corn and sugar cane plantations.
The way proceeded through
an elephant reserve, but no wildlife was spotted, let alone any elephants. It, nevertheless,
remained stunning to cycle through such a densely forested area. Being effortless
riding and aided by a slight tailwind, we sailed into Khlong Hat shortly past 15h00.
That night’s camping was at the police station.
4 September - Khlong
Hat—Aranya Prathet— 88 km
When Tania is around,
there’s no sleeping in and seeing we were up early, we set out to explore
nearby caves. Before reaching the cave, some climbing was required; sadly, the
cave was pitch dark and slippery. Neither of us brought a headlamp and it seemed
far too risky to explore any further. On the other hand, the viewpoint offered magnificent
vistas of the surrounding area. Afterwards, we returned to our bicycles, stowed
under the watchful eye of the Buddha.
We retraced our steps through
Khlong Hat and then swung east in the direction of Prasat Khao Noi, ruins of a
Khmer temple on top of a minor (Noi) hill (Kho). Prasat Khao Noi’s claim to
fame is a lintel discovered during excavation; the oldest ever found in
Thailand, dating to the 7th century, quite likely reused. It started drizzling,
and we made our way down the 254 steps to where the bikes were parked.
Prasat Muang Phai sounded fascinating
as I read Phai was an ancient city dating from the Dvaravati-era. Mueang Phai
was a walled city that measured 1,000 metres by 1,300 metres, surrounded by a
40-metre-wide moat. Great was our disappointment; therefore, when simply a heap
of stones and chickens scratching in the dirt remained. The next town was
Aranyaprathet, which marked the end of the ride.
5 September –
Aranyaprathet – Non Din Daeng (Lam Noang Rong Dam) – 105 km
The way between
Aranyaprathet and Non Din Daeng proceeded past bizarre temples and the ruins of
Sdok Kok Thom. Sdok Kok Thom was an 11th-century Khmer temple, dedicated to the
Hindu god Shiva. Sdok Kok is best known for a 1000-year-old inscribed stela, came
upon during renovations. Inscriptions described everyday life and gave details concerning
important events and services provided to the king by the temple’s family.
The generosity of the Thai
people is astounding, and they provided us with not merely ice-cold drinking
water but also mangos and steamed rice in banana leaves.
Under a relentless sun, we
slowly made our way over the Sankamphaeng Range. Shortly after reaching the
top, mobile carts sold passion fruit and ice-cold passion fruit juice, precisely
what was needed in the wake of such a steep climb on a hot day. Nearing Non Din
Daeng, dark clouds appeared on the horizon, and one could hear thunder rumbling
in the distance.
The approaching storm made
pedalling like the clappers to reach Lam Nang Rong Dam, where the plan was to
camp and where our arrival coincided with the falling of the first drops. Stall
owners were kind enough to allow pitching the tents under a large covered area.
Luckily and the place featured more than enough restaurants from where to eat.
The food was delicious, and supper was enjoyed while watching the moon reflect
over the dam.
6 September – Lam Nang
Rong Dam – Khao Krodong Forest Park – 112 km
A beautiful sunrise greeted
us, and the howling dogs of the night before were soon forgotten. Phew, what a
noisy night.
Our first stop was Prasat
Nong Hong, ruins of the 11th century. Afterwards, our path went past bright
green rice fields, small settlements, and scrawny cows with long ears. So rural
was the area we bought bananas from a toothless lady trading from an old pram. Next
up was Prasat Mueang Tam, built almost 1000 years ago in old Khmer style.
Interestingly, Prasat
Muang Tam formed part of a direct line of temples between Angkor in Cambodia and
Phimai in Thailand. Nevertheless, these structures were mysteriously abandoned nearly
700 years ago.
A stand sold cotton candy
(roti saimai). Roti saimai (pronounced say may) is a Thai-style candy floss or
cotton candy wrapped in a sweet roti. The thin silk strands are spun sugar and
the strands are usually found in a rainbow of colours. The crepe is very thin,
and I understand green is from pandan leaves. They were delicious, and not simply
did the stall owner let us try them, but she gave us a whole bag.
It became a pleasant day
of biking past men in conical hats guarding scrawny cows and both men and women
collecting kids from school on bicycles. I thought the physical closeness,
quality time in the company of children, even if no words were spoken.
The route continued to Khao
Kradong Forest Park outside Buri Ram, where camping was available. A walk to find
food carts turned out disastrous as no sooner were we underway and rain came
pouring down. Tents were left uncovered and, to our dismay, found about
everything sopping wet. Oi, what a mess, not what you want following a full day
of cycling. A kind lady from one of the park houses brought us a blanket. How
sweet of her.
At around 10 o’clock it
started raining again. This time flysheets were fitted super quick, but discovered
the entire platform covered by ants and promptly dived into the tents.
7 September - Khao Kradong
Forest Park–Surin – 57 km
“Ants are everywhere!”
Tania exclaimed on waking. On closer inspection, they were indeed everywhere. Our
tents were pitched right next to one of the park employee’s houses, and they no
doubt, noticed the commotion and came to our rescue—bug spray in hand. Wow, I
don’t know what we would’ve done without their help. Loading the bikes were at
the speed of light, and we were out of the park, hopefully without the ants.
Breakfast consisted of noodle
soup from a simple eatery, delicious. The day consisted of comfortable riding through
the countryside and past ever-present, luminous green rice fields. What a
privilege to cycle along potholed country lanes, swerving out only to avoid scrawny
cattle and striking up conversations with toothless, paan-chewing ladies. Farmers
cut animal feed using handmade sickles and carried it shoulder-high to handmade
wooden carts while women were weaving in traditional ways. On arrival at Surin,
the “New Hotel” opposite the station was our abode of choice. The “New Hotel” was
clearly not new anymore, but at 180 THB, one couldn’t complain, and at sunset, eateries
popped up right in front of our abode, a bonus.
8 September – Surin
The following day was
spent in Surin as accommodation was dreadfully cheap and food plentiful and
delicious. The market provided cold white noodles served smothered in a curry
sauce garnished with various greens and spices for breakfast. But, again, there
were more than enough sweet temptations to pick from.
Surprisingly, I uncovered more
than one excellent bicycle shop stocked with top-of-the-range bike parts, and I
bought an odometer as well as an inner tube. Supper was outside our establishment,
eating from various food vendors. What an absolute privilege sitting outside at
10 p.m wearing only shorts and T-shirts, eating delicious food from street
vendors at a pittance.
9 September – Surin –
Uthumphon Phisai - 100 km
On leaving Surin, the plan
was, at first, to cycle via the glass temple. Still, the route was along the
main road, and thus rather dull and opted for a more scenic country path to Si
Sa Ket. Our course took us past tiny settlements where people appeared surprised
to see two foreigners on bicycles and, to their delight, we sat down to have a bite
to eat. The idea was to get corn on the cob and pineapple, but a massive plate
of sticky rice accompanied by tiny fried fish was served. Stuffed, we
continued, stopping at yet another set of ruins. Tania didn’t feel well, and
best to find an aircon room.
Phisai was conveniently located
and sported a guesthouse opposite the Tesco Lotus. Mercifully, Tania’s problem
was only due to heat, as after a while under the aircon, she felt considerably
better.
10 September - Uthumphon
Phisai - Phibun - 130 km
There wasn’t much to report.
The ride consisted of a slog past a few stands selling bamboo furniture and
woven baskets along the highway. Next, our route passed luminous green rice
paddies and gong makers. Unfortunately, main roads never made good cycle
touring. We thus stuck to the task at hand, only wanting to reach Phibun, where
camping was at a Buddhist temple.
11 September – Phibun – PK
Resort – 60 km
From Phibun, our route crossed
the Mun river and then followed the river to the Pak Mun Dam and the quaint settlement
of Khong Chiam. Khong Chiam was a tiny but charming village situated at the
confluence of the Mekong and Mun Rivers. From Khong Chiam, a short ride brought
us to Pha Team National Park, where camping was an idyllic spot on the banks of
the Mekong River.
Once the tents were
pitched, we sat watching the river flow by in a laid-back mood. It subsequently
turned into an unusual evening as the sky changed from blue to a deep
orange/brown right in front of our eyes. It made an ominous mood, but still, a
pleasurable evening, sitting outside our tents, chatting and enjoying the lovely
weather. Suddenly and quite unexpectedly, a fierce wind picked up and almost
immediately it started raining. Not a gentle rain but a biblical storm where
one wanted to build a boat and start gathering two of a kind. All one could do
was dive into the tents and hang on for dear life. I believed it would pass
quickly, but it felt like it lasted forever. I’m not exaggerating if I say our
tents, with us inside, almost took off. It wasn’t merely raining hard, but the
strong wind made it a noisy affair. I called to Tania at the top of my lungs to
hang on to the tent poles, but one could scarcely hear each other. Finally, the
owner/manager of the resort braved the weather and offered space inside the
conference room. The wind made it virtually impossible to stand up, let alone
move a tent and panniers in such weather. Slowly and one by one, all our stuff
was moved the short distance to the empty conference room. Being safely inside
a brick structure came as a great relief. There was no thanking the owner
enough, not simply for his generous offer but for coming out in such foul
weather to help us.
12 September - Pk Resort -
Khemerat - 115 km
“Wow, at least the wind
subsided,” Tania said on waking, still wide-eyed from the storm the previous
night. From our camp, a slight climb led to the main road. The rest of the day,
the way remained undulating but shaded. Tania claimed the route was too hilly
for even the dogs to give chase. Although undulating, our path ran through a
National Park, making picturesque riding.
The map indicated various
points of interest, but we only veered off once to what was shown as a scenic
spot. Regrettably, the viewpoint didn’t quite live up to its name, but we snapped
a few pics anyhow. Arriving in Khemarat, the temple granted permission to camp.
Still, once the tents were pitched, we were told to move to a room, apparently
for the use of women. Hunger pains drove us to a nearby restaurant to find a
plate of fried noodles.
LAOS (5)
13 September – 18
September
13 September - Khemerat,
Thailand – Savannakhet, Lao – 105 km
Sluggish following the
previous day’s hills, a leisurely ride took us to the Thai/Laos border. En route,
people, basket in hand, were collecting leaves and herbs. I thought Thai people
were privileged as they still enjoyed the luxury of foraging. No wonder they can
prepare the tastiest of meals simply using one or two ingredients. They’ve a knack
for collecting tiny fish, crabs, and snails in ponds or rice paddies and conjuring
up a meal you’ll think you’re in a 5-star restaurant.
Lunch consisted of noodle
soup accompanied by a basket of fresh greens, giving it an extra unique taste.
Afterwards, the way continued to the immigration to get an exit stamp. Biking across
the Thai/Laos Friendship bridge spanning the Mekong River, wasn’t allowed. Instead,
pedestrians and cyclists were required to use the bus, which carted people
across the river to the Laos side. It didn’t take much to corrupt Tania, and we
hopped on the bicycles and gunned it across the bridge, to great protest of
border officials. We, nonetheless, kept going as fast as possible and laughed
ourselves silly at how ridiculous it must’ve looked to bystanders.
Once in Laos, a $30 visa allowed
entry into the country, and we made our way to Savannakhet and Savanpathana
Guesthouse. The fun part was going to the ATM to draw local currency (Lao Kip).
As the conversion rate was 8,280 Kip - US$1, one could draw 1,000,000 Kip without
breaking the bank. I still had a SIM card from my previous visit, and it only
needed topping up.
14 September – Savannakhet
Savannakhet sported a
Vietnamese consulate made applying for a Vietnam visa easy. A 30-day visa was
$45 and a 90-day one $55, and therefore best to apply for the latter, as it allowed
exploring far more.
Savannakhet was a lovely
place to wander about. We strolled the leafy streets of the old quarters and
along the Mekong River, marvelling at all there was to eat at the eateries
lining the riverbank. Although I must admit, pig’s brain in banana leaf didn’t sound
all appetising.
15 September – Savannakhet
Rumours of a typhoon off
the coast of Vietnam scared us, but I didn’t think Laos was in the path of the
storm. Savannakhet was located 300 kilometres inland from where the typhoon was
to make landfall. It, nevertheless, rained the entire day and the best part of
the day was spent indoors. At around 15h00, we returned to the Vietnamese
consulate to pick up our visas. As our abode lost power, it left little else to
do but eat. Not an unpleasant way to spend a day. By evening, I managed to lock
us out of the room. Luckily, those places generally had spare keys. It, nevertheless,
took a surprisingly long time to locate it in the dark.
The following day, the rain
came bucketing down. As the weather forecast predicted rain throughout the region,
one more day was spent in Savannakhet.
17 September – Savannakhet
– Muang Phalanxay - 119 km
Tania was up and packed by
5h50. Unfortunately, I wasn’t equally inspired and took considerably longer to
get ready. The route to the Vietnamese border proceeded in an easterly
direction. From Savannakhet, one could follow a rural path past Ban Bungva, a
lake featuring restaurants on stilts, which looked inviting.
Our path eventually ended up
at That Ing Hang, a stupa rumoured to house a relic of Buddha’s spine. We
snapped a few pics and continued in the direction of the Vietnamese border, a lovely
ride, through a rural area dotted by tiny settlements and markets. Late
afternoon digs offering food nearby made an excellent place to overnight. The place
was basic and barely worth 60,000 Kip, but what does a person expect when
paying 60,000 Kip ($7)?
18 September - Muang
Phalanxay – Ban Dong – 115 km
It rained throughout the
night and in the morning, we departed our humble abode via a muddy, potholed
road right through the morning market. By the stares and giggles, one could
tell, not many “farangs” frequented their market.
Like the previous day, the
day was spent biking through tiny settlements featuring simple houses on stilts
and past people carrying their wares in woven baskets on their backs or shoulder
poles. Women preparing food on open fires and children herding cattle reminded
me of Africa. We overtook people going to the market in basic, wooden, homemade
carts and others in equally minimalistic longboats motoring upriver. Bare-bottomed
children played in the dirt next to the path as their parents sold bamboo
slivers for tying up rice. Lunch was a bowl of noodle soup from a stall admiring
the stunning landscape. We dodged chickens, goats, and black pigs on arrival in
Ban Dong before finding a suitable guesthouse. The conveniently situated food vendor
across the way made it a comfortable overnight stop.
VIETNAM (3)
19 September – 30
September 2017
19 September - Ban
Dong, Lao – Cho Cam Lo, Vietnam – 90 km
Breakfast was from a lady across
the street, and afterwards, we proceeded in the Laos/Vietnam border direction.
Once in Vietnam, our first stop was at Lao Bao, to purchase new SIM cards and where
the ATM spat out a whopping 3,000,000 Vietnamese dong.
Hardly out of Lao Bao,
Tania’s chain snapped. Fortunately, returning to town was downhill, making it possible
to free-wheel into town to find a bicycle shop. However, the discovery Tania’s derailleur
was cracked came as a further shock. Unfortunately, there wasn’t a great deal one
could do but nurse the bike along in the hope of finding a decent bike shop in
either Dong Ha or Dong Hoi.
Still, it remained a beautiful
rural part of Vietnam and a novelty watching people on motorbikes, loaded to
the hilt with bananas. It’s astonishing what all one can transport by motorcycle.
The vistas were sublime as our path led past the famous or infamous “Rockpile”,
a karst rock outcropping used by the United States Army as an observation post
and artillery base from 1966 to 1969.
The weather was blistering,
the road hilly and the going slow. On reaching tiny Cho Cam Lo, we called it a
day.
20 September - Cho Cam Lo
– Cửa Tùng – 67 km
Upon inquiring about a bike
shop, one was located a short distance away. It turned out to be a tiny
workshop in a basic, corrugated iron shed that mainly catered to motorbikes. The
owner was helpful enough and fitted a new derailleur, albeit a bottom of the
range seven-speed one. Not an ideal situation, but we were happy to pay the
120,000 VID as we were in no position to complain. Regrettably, the new
derailleur didn’t quite live up to expectations. The gears were slipping to
such an extent cycling was no pleasure. I tried tuning it but knew little about
adjusting gears, and better to return to the nearby town of Dong Ha. Enquiring
about a bike shop in English wasn’t easy in Vietnam. Eventually, and using
Google Translate, a helpful chap understood our problem and escorted Tania and me
to a bicycle shop. The shop was surprisingly well-stocked but only stocked
seven-speed derailleurs. Still, they manage to tune the gears well enough, allowing
us to continue.
From Dong Ha, a rural path
ran next to a river and then along the coast en route to the Vinh Moc Tunnels. Business
along the coast primarily involved fishing. We cycled past ladies in conical
hats, covered from head to toe (to avoid the sun), collecting dried fish in massive
plastic bags. Shortly before reaching the tunnels, the typical Vietnamese beach
village of Cua Tung lured us in. It boasted a guesthouse right on the ocean. Our
early arrival allowed doing laundry and other chores.
21 September - Cửa Tùng –
Dong Hoi – 90 km
A beautiful sunrise
greeted us, and I was amazed by how quickly light could change. Breakfast was a
bowl of Pho, the famous Vietnamese noodle soup eaten at miniature plastic
tables and even smaller plastic chairs. The way to Vinh Moc Tunnels followed
the coast and once there, these tunnels were even more impressive in real life
than on brochures. They were far more extensive than anticipated and exceptionally
narrow and low. Navigating the tunnels required walking bent over. Good thing the
Vietnamese are tiny. One can’t even begin to imagine what it must’ve been like living
in those tunnels for an extended period. It, however, seemed the people living
there were well organised, as there were sleeping caves, hospital areas,
bathrooms, a well-point, and numerous other demarcated areas. Still, it must’ve
been terrifying living there and hearing enemy bombs dropping overhead. I couldn’t
imagine what it must’ve been like living in one’s own country while the enemy
dropped bomb upon bomb, year upon year. It must’ve been a desperate situation.
The way to Dong Hoi, was for
the best part via the highway, and thus monotonous riding. However, a minor
path appeared only towards the end of the day, offering more interesting sights.
Dong Hoi was a pleasant riverside town but had an unfortunate location of being
very close to the DMZ during the war. The result was American bombs razed the city
to the ground, leaving only part of a church, part of the old city wall, a
water tower, and a single palm tree—all quite sad.
I’d the feeling foreigners
were often overcharged in Vietnam. If so, I guess, they considered it their
right since suffering so many years.
Locating digs was easy, and
later a walk along the river, allowed snapping a few pics, followed by supper at
one of the nearby joints.
22 September – Dong Hpi –
Son Trach – 51 km
Visiting nearby Ke Bang
National Park was an obvious choice, and home to the most extensive cave system
(open to the general public) in the world. Son Trach, therefore, sported heaps
of accommodation, and once booked in at the Paradise Hotel, we set off to the
river from where boats ferried people to Phong Nha Cave. The caves were
spectacular and were made even more so by being rowed into the cave by a wooden
boat. It’s difficult to describe the sheer vastness of it all, and even more
difficult to capture its beauty on camera.
23 September - Son Trach –
50 km
After breakfast, a
pleasant and breathtaking ride led to Paradise Cave. Once there, a short walk took
visitors to the tiny entrance. One could hardly believe such a tiny opening in
the mountain hid such a vast treasure. Paradise cave was only discovered in
2005 and was then the most extensive cave system globally. There are no words
to describe the beauty of these caves and all I can say is, if ever you find
yourself in Vietnam, these caves are a “must-see”.
24 September - Son Trach –
Dong Le – 80 km
All caved out, we headed
out of Son Trach. Our path followed the river, making a lovely ride. The Song
Gianh River went past the quintessential Vietnamese rice fields, karst peaks,
villages, and grazing buffalo. Despite the mining, Vietnam was a picturesque
country away from the highway. Stopping for coffee is a must in Vietnam and
slightly different from what we were used to. Ground beans were placed into a
French drip filter (called a phin), a metal contraption placed on top of the
cup. A thin lid weighed down the coffee, hot water was added and slowly trickled
into the cup. Coffee came accompanied by a side dish of ice. We sat sipping our
coffee overlooking rice paddies, grinning at our fortune.
Our day was filled with the
familiar sights of salesmen on motorcycles, friendly kids bathing in the river,
and produce drying in the sun, all while dodging cows, pigs and chickens.
The typical Vietnamese
village of Dong Le was graced with red-tiled-roof houses, making it an easy
choice to stay the night.
25 September - Dong Le
Tania felt unusually tired,
and our decision to take a rest day was made even easier by continuous rain. The
day was spent doing the usual rest day chores of laundry, but mostly we ate. Villagers
found us a huge source of interest, a sure sign not many foreigners visited
Dong Le. Ladies at the market stared openly and didn’t feel embarrassed looking
into our bags or touching us. On the other hand, I found eating in public
challenging as they weren’t shy to join us, even if only to look at what and
how we were eating.
26 September – Dong Le – Duc Tho – 113 km
The next day one of the old
Ho Chi Minh trails let out of tiny Dong Le. The Ho Chi Minh trails were a logistical
system used during the war to support troops. There remained several of these
trails; a few went through Laos and others through Cambodia. Nowadays, several
of these trails are paved. The area was incredibly rural and scenic and where
people still farmed by ploughing using oxen and buffalo. Ladies traded from wooden
shacks, selling their meagre produce or freshly-butchered meat. We watched in
fascination as farmers transported logs down-river and then, with the help of buffalo,
hauled the logs out the river to the roadside.
The path proceeded north
past grapefruit plantations where giant grapefruit were awkwardly hanging from
branches. Grapefruit in Southeast Asia was considerably larger than elsewhere
and the skin thick. Once peeled away, one was left with huge, dry wedges
encased by a tough skin.
Dark clouds loomed but, luckily,
it only rained once, allowing having a cup of coffee, something always a
pleasure in Vietnam. We rolled into Duc Tho, which sported a hotel right on the
river, Fuelled by caffeine. The hunt for an eatery was on, even before having a
shower. We were a great source of interest and communication, mainly via Google
Translate. In general, people wanted to know where we were from, our names,
ages, and where we were going.
27 September - Duc Tho –
Roadside Hotel – 110 km
Staying off the highway
and finding secondary roads became a real challenge, but we were determined to
avoid the motorway. Leaving our overnight spot via a bumpy and muddy path, it eventually
spat us out on a brand-new road. Regrettably, it took us slightly off course. Once
on rural tracks, the villages biked past looked forlorn and half-forgotten. Even
the coastal route which ran past these villages were washed away and in poor
condition. The way led past deserted beaches and bays, revealing wooden fishing
boats and rudimentary eateries on stilts over the water. It all looked basic
but idyllic. Eventually, no choice remained but to persist along the busy, hot,
dusty and noisy Highway; phew! Finally, a conveniently located establishment
lured us in, and it made a good enough place to take a break.
28 September – Roadside
Hotel – Tam Coc – 121 km
We emerged to a beautiful
morning, and sat watching mist curl around limestone hills, sipping the days’ first
coffee. The road headed in the direction of Tam Coc, one of Vietnam’s top
tourist destinations. No other option remained but to get on the highway,
making it a dull, dusty, hectic and noisy ride. Still, fascinating stands
abounded. A few sold beautiful pipes and others all kinds of birds and, of course,
the well-known snake wine.
Lunch was again noodle
soup and eaten while being the centre of attention. The scenic route made effortless
cycling to Tam Coc and our $9 room was considered a bargain in such a touristy area.
29 September - Tam Coc
The following day was
spent in Tam Coc, a gorgeous area. A boat ride upriver wasn’t only picturesque
but revealed an extraordinary habit. The people of Tam Coc didn’t row using
their arms but instead, use their feet. They mostly use their hands to hold mobile
phones, umbrellas or hauling in fishing nets.
30 September - Tam Coc –
Hanoi – 130 km
Tania’s final day of
riding arrived, and on leaving beautiful Tam Coc, an even more stunning area
was uncovered. Again, the ride was scenic, along farm roads through an idyllic
setting, despite the overcast weather. Fortunately, the rain stayed away. It became
an enjoyable and relatively comfortable ride into Hanoi while encountering many
exciting and unique things.
Not only did we encounter
a vendor selling grilled dogs, but we came across a lady walking her bike. Pushing
the bicycle wasn’t unusual, was it not that the bike was customised for pushing,
sporting one unusually long handlebar and no pedals. Turning off the road onto
an even smaller and narrower one, biking was through Chinese-looking rural
villages. Ladies traded on their haunches, and others sold live chickens, door
to door, from a wire cage strapped to their motorcycles. We waved at women in
conical hats, and men with T-shirts rolled up to under their armpits. Our
chosen route ran through a valley offering high limestone cliffs on both sides.
The valley itself was planted under rice, by then in various colours. Old men
herded buffalo and younger ones cut rice and carried it in baskets dangling
from shoulder poles to wooden carts. Women herded goats in stark contrast to
kids on electric scooters flying past on their way home from school.
So came to an end Tania’s bike
ride from Bangkok to Hanoi, and as always, it was a pleasure to accompany her.
