Viva Vietnam!

"Hmm I'm not so sure about the elephant ride - not the sort of thing I'd usually choose to do but it seems to be part of the package and it might be fun". Weary words after a long day on the road and a few beers. K's response was philosophical if a little surreal. "Well after swinging my leg on and off a motorbike all day...an elephant tomorrow should be no problem". We both collapsed in laughter at the mental image.

This mildly hysterical laughter continued the next day: as we balanced ourselves atop the sad old beast, feeling absurd (me wincingly so - was there adequate padding between our metal bench saddle thingy and the ele's spine?); as we realised how jolt-lurchy the ride was going to be and how our saddle was kept on - by a precarious and not very comfy-looking relationship with the ele's tail; as ele snatched perilously at fresh bamboo leaves mid-descent of a steep embankment (clearly tastier than the dry straw scattered on the road at photo opp. points); and as the people on the ele in front of us screamed a little as their ele rebelled and knelt for a proper dip, mid-river, wetting their shoes. Our laughter only stopped when our ele tried to do the same and squealed as he got metal-spiked by the mahout. Oh no! Distress! Confirmation of my misgivings about this jaunt. For the rest of the ride, I had to keep pretending that this must be better for our ele than a working life lugging heavier things than people.

K and I were doing a 2-day motorbike tour with the Easy Riders, from the lovely Da Lat in the highlands down to Nha Trang on the coast. Da Lat is a place of whispering pine trees; the scent of roasting, caramelising sweet potatoes - the white-fleshed ones like the mbambaira you get back home; market stalls with mountains of avocados; vats of mulberries; artichoke tea; chewy sugar-bomb dried strawberries; and cakes to die for.

Our Easy Riders, Su and Phuoc (right), were relaxed, knowledgeable dudes with a sense of humour. We meandered through the mountains stopping often to take in the scenery, stretch our legs, and to learn about local industry/agriculture: a flower farm, coffee, tea, tapioca, turmeric (yes, really), sugar cane, cocoa, and pepper plantations, a silk factory, basket weaving, a rickety rice-noodle production line (2 people), a mini rice wine brewery in someone's kitchen - tasting included - and even a tiny brick factory. We encountered delighted, daring kids holding out their hands to whack ours as we passed on the bikes (ouch for them); got caught in bicycle commuter traffic (in Vietnam cities, it's motorbikes rather than bicycles); and swapped details of our backgrounds with Su and Phuoc over 333 beer and vast tableloads of amazing food at 'local price'. After a second day of hard riding and the slightly hairy experience of Highway One at rush hour, we left the Easy Riders in Nha Trang clutching soft-seat train tickets they'd sorted for us, as well as recommendations for a guesthouse and tailors in Hoi An. Ele-ride hiccup aside, this trip was the highlight of my time in Vietnam: I came away from it marvelling at the fertility of the land (is there anything that isn't grown in Vietnam?) and with a deep-rooted respect for how resourceful, resilient and hard-working the people are. I have plans to eat baked beans on toast for many months so that I can return to do a longer bike trip.

(Pics above: hilltop view of rice paddies; young poser; rice harvest; rice wine brewery; silk factory; fishing village near Nha Trang - boats and fishing nets; and lastly, my future retirement home on a small cocoa farm, complete with satellite dish.)

And the rest of Vietnam? Well, K and I had met up in Ho Chi Minh City, which the locals still call "Saigon". I quite liked the feel of the place, although I have to confess that, after 2 days of bus travel from Sihanoukville, the simple imprint which Saigon left on my brain was one of many many motorbikes, a very black and dead looking Black River, some coffee shops and local restaurants I'd like to explore further, and streetside fruit shakes which were works of tastebud art. The visit to Cao Dai temple was unexpectedly fascinating (must read more about this) and the Cu Chi Tunnels were claustrophobic, sobering, but a little marred by the "tourist information" film which made ZTV broadcasts look like balanced investigative reportage (yeah, tone the propoganda down a bit guys. "Brave guerillas" might capture more minds than "hero American killers".)

(Pics above: Cao Dai Holy See)

After the Da Lat-Nha Trang trip, we spent a relatively comfy night in soft seats on the train to Danang for Hoi An. There was more laughter (suppressed of course) at the state of the pair of monk's feet which took up residence on my armrest for the journey.

Hoi An was a delight. A faded old city with slightly crumbling buildings and handsome teakwood merchant houses. We subjected ourselves to public measurement humiliation at the tailor's and then spent the next few days eating great food and mozeying about - renting bicycles to ride out through rice paddies to a couple of beaches and to a pottery village where K impressed the local potters, having a go on the wheel. The potters kept telling me she had "clever hands" (always an option my friend if London gets too much!)

(Pics above: Hoi An)

Then on to Hue for a quick stopover, where the highlight was the Thien Mu Pagoda. We caught the sound of a large singing bowl being rung by a monk. Oh, this is a sound every office should be compelled to play at lunch time to calm frazzled minds. After Hue, we dashed to Hanoi for a Halong Bay boat trip. We had fun kayaking in Halong Bay, but having seen that water, I now realise how naive I was donning my swimming cozi beforehand ("maybe on a 5day luxury cruise, and the equivalent distance from shore, love!"). We also caught a charming water puppet show in Hanoi - which I made more entertaining for the privileged, bored group of teenage schooltrippers in the audience when I nearly bailed headlong down the theatre stairs. There was talk of me keeping a public humilaition log, but it would now just take too long to compile. Am I this much of a clown back home? Answers preferably NOT in the public comments boxes below! One memory souvenir I have of Hanoi is that of loads of young people sitting on very low chairs on the pavements outside cafes in the French Quarter, drinking iced green tea, and cracking sunflower seeds, creating a quaint and lovely soundtrack to evening conversation.

In Hanoi, I bid a lonesome farewell to K as she headed to the airport and I trudged off to the train station, bound for the hills of Sa Pa and H'mong weekend markets, hoping that I was not going to be the only woman in my 6 berth "hard sleeper" compartment. Of course I wasn't. There was a lovely Vietnamese family who shared their pumpkin seeds with me. The train had a minor accident, but we made it there in the end.

Sa Pa is a magical, restorative place to while away some time gazing at the mountains (above) and drinking tasty teas and infusions, which is mostly what I did, save for a rain-shortened village walk and a trip to Bac Ha market. The market has lots of tourist stuff, so is best visited to watch the local people trading everything from agricultural implements to traditional medicine. I was reminded that some things are universal when I sat down to have lunch next to a Hmong woman (most of the other foreigners seemed to have legged it back to menu-ed cocacola cafes once theyd photographed the pigs trotters etc). This lady suddenly gestured to the stallholder, pointed with disgust to something - a hair in her noodle soup- and demanded a new bowl! I ate mine quickly at squint-distance.





(Pics above from the walk to Lao Chai village, near Sa Pa)







(Pics above: Bac Ha market - traders mainly from the Flower H'mong. Selling? From top: sugar cane; bamboo shoots and veg; traditional medicine (I think); chilies; rice wine/whisky; food stalls; heading home)

So Vietnam? Apart from having one of the coolest flags in the world, Vietnam touched a few soft spots and I have no doubt that I will return (babe, start stocking up on the baked beans).

Posted: 6 May 2012