Day 28 & 29 & 30: Nha Trang: More Russians Than You'd Expect...

After a beach-side recovery from my megadrive from central to south, I was ready to get back on the saddle, though only briefly, to cover the 66 Km down to Nha Trang, Vietnam's beach town extraordinaire. A friend of mine from Hanoi, Becky, had moved down to the southern tourist trap just a few weeks prior, and had assured me I had a place to stay when I passed through, an offer that I'm always willing to accept. The drive - which saw my bike pass the 10,000 KM mark (!!) - was straightforward and pleasant, and in no time, Becky was showing me around her new home.

I'm the little blue smurf above the "N"

Nha Trang, like some other great Southeast Asian cities (*coughChiangMaicough*), is a popular tourist destination for both domestic and international visitors. The town is situated right on the coast, and bordered on nearly every non-beach side by scenic mountainous terrain. Its no wonder tourists flock here, but wondering is permitted when noticing one interesting quirk of the town: there's a whole lot of Russian around. Restaurants, clothing stores, travel agencies, even market stalls are littered with that indecipherable, backwards-looking script that Russians always seem to insist are words.

“Why..” you ask? Well so did I: seems the common political ideologies shared by communist Vietnam and the former Soviet Union did more than just provide this lovable 3^rd world country with cheap vehicles, weapons, and unsightly government buildings; it also struck up a tourism link between the two countries (that is, once Russians started having enough money to travel outside their frostbitten country). In fact, there are very few international flights into the small Nha Trang airport, but there is one that goes directly to and from Moscow... go figure.

Read on to hear how a retiree spends their time in Vietnam

Day 25 & 26 & 27: Megadrive/Gettin Jungley With It

Due to the previous day's failure to launch from the charming grip of Hoi An, it was necessary to make Day 25 the longest driving day of the trip, during which I had to cover 320 Km (about 200 miles). Though this may not seem like the marathon journey I'm prone to make it out to be, it was nearly 100 Km longer than any other drive I'd undertaken thus far, and quite an undertaking on roads of variable quality and a bike that tops out at about 80 Kph (50 mph).

I woke early, grabbed some market food, and headed out of Hoi An, this time with my passport most certainly IN my possession. The first hour and a half of Deja Vu Drive went as smoothly as it had the previous day (sigh...), and the following hour and a half provided similar predictability, and slightly different scenery. I neared my beach-side lunching destination right on time, but first had to stop at a museum in Son My village, the location of a brutal, controversial, and eventually well-publicized atrocity of war, referred to simply as the My Lai Massacre.

this plastic reenactment could actually appear comical... except for the fact that it actually happened.

Some brief background: the small coastal village called Son My, just south of the Demilitarized Zone, was suspected (or known) to be housing Vietcong supporters/members, and a small group of US soldiers were given vague directions to go take care of the issue, as soldiers are so frequently ordered to do. Something in the directions or the men's brains was off that day, however, and it resulted in the mass slaying of over 100 innocent villagers in My Lai hamlet; men, women, children, and elderly, without discernment. The place was torched to the ground, with the few remaining survivors left to pick up the pieces of their decimated families and homes, not to mention dealing with the subsequent bombings of the area, supposed to be attempts by the US Military to cover their transgressions.

Persevere

Like the rest of Vietnam, life today in rural Son My ticks along normally. The museum, a moderate flow of tourists, and an annual remembrance of the victims are the only traces of what happened, which is all probably for the best. It is now simply another story of innocent people meeting a tragic end, all at the hands of warring governments who decide it necessary to their Empire to put their citizens directly in harm's way. War is a sad, ugly, childish thing.

Read on for some less depressing stuff! Really, I promise...

Day 22 & 23 & 24 : Hoi An: Are we in Disney World?

The the day after my unexpected Hue Party, I awoke fresh and ready to leave town before any more locals could coax me into a day of drinking. Having taken in the compulsory sights of Hue, it was time to move to Hoi An, another historic town/tourist trap, but by most accounts a far more quaint and pleasant one than Hue. The drive, which rolls over Hai Van Pass and through the big city of Danang, is known to be very lovely. And lovely it was:

Bigger vehicles can take a tunnel through the mountain that'll knock 30 mins. off travel time. Worth it?...

Love a good hairpin pic

Hoi An is marketed as an important “Ancient City,” and indeed it was for many years, acting as a major port of call for traders from all over Asia and even as far away as Europe. As such, the city boasts a good deal of foreign influence – especially in its food and architecture – originating from long before the war, tourism, and modern development. More recently, it has become known for its pleasant Disneyesque ambiance and dirt cheap tailoring shops (of which there are too many to count), and is one of the most frequently visited tourist hot spots in Vietnam. I rolled in to town, easily found the accommodation that had been recommended to me (a bar/guesthouse hybrid dubbed The Sleepy Gecko), and headed for the beach. Despite the fact that Hoi An is not known for its beaches, it has a few nearby that are pretty fantastic.

The following day, I joined forces with a couple of French siblings staying in the dorm with me, and we made a trip to nearby Marble Mountain outside of the big city of Danang. Marble Mountain is exactly what it sounds like, only better. A few small mountains outside the city were found to be full of high quality marble stone, so naturally they threw a billion marble shops around it and started mining the hell out of it. The interesting part is, after they'd presumably taken as much stone from the mountain as they could, they turned it in to a tourist attraction so they could keep making money off of it (savvy, no?). While I wasn't expecting much, Marble Mountain turned out to be something of a sightseer's playground. There were loads of caves (not naturally occurring, but still cool) full of monuments and such, and lots of areas to climb around on and explore. We worked up quite a sweat hiking up to the top, and while the pictures don't do it justice, the views were amazing.

Read on for Marble Mountain Pix, and hear about yet another mishap – seems to be a running theme...

Day 20 & 21: Hue: The Mid-Trip Crisis

After enjoying Dong Hoi much more than I expected, it was time to continue on my way south. My next stop was the former imperial capital of Hue, which has turned in to a bit of a tourist trap thanks to its historical importance and location.

The drive took me through the Demilitarized Zone (DMZ), the narrow region that once territorially separated North and South Vietnam, and saw a massive amount of fighting and destruction during the war. Though there are plenty of sights to see in the DMZ, my research told me that most are not all that interesting, and even less so without a guide. One sight however – The Vinh Moc Tunnels - is considered by nearly everyone as a DMZ must-see (DMZMC?..). So in the morning I strapped my bag to my bike and set off, with plans to make it to the Tunnels around lunch, and Hue by late afternoon.

"...there's a powder room on your left, and if you'll follow me through the foyer, out front is one of our newest Bomb Craters, just installed last week..."

The Vinh Moc Tunnels were dug by the industrious people of the area just north of the Ben Hai River, which lies on the “17^th Parallel”, dividing North and South Vietnam. Their villages came under extremely heavy bombing (approximated at 7 tons of bombs/resident) from the American forces, who were hoping to cut off a suspected supply line to the Northern forces/Vietcong in the south. The villagers couldn't stand the idea of leaving their homeland, and with really nowhere else to go, decided to simply head underground. Over a span of 3 years, they dug an impossibly elaborate tunnel system, and lived there for several years after its completion.

Down we go

Big enough to give birth in, but not big enough for me to stand upright...

It can be easy to distance ourselves from what the Vietnamese have been through over the last 100 years at the hands of foreign governments, obviously including my own. However, the perseverance and love for their homeland that these people have shown is truly astonishing – I have no idea what I would do, if put in the same situation (though it would probably involve running away to Mexico... but, of course, not Canada...)

read on to hear about a surprise party of sorts 

Day 18 & 19: Dong Hoi-in'

Our eventfully funstrating (see what I did?) trip to Laos had come to an end, and Dan and I sat in the massively boring town of Vinh (the birthplace of Ho Chi Minh, communist Vietnam's venerated liberator/demi-god) trying to decide what to do next. Dan's decision was reluctantly made but relatively straightforward: the passport fiasco had taken quite a toll on his bank account, and he simply did not have the funds to continue traveling, so a flight home to Saigon was the most efficient, cost-effective option. He had been hoping to see the towns of Hue & Hoi An, but it wasn't on the cards this time around.

My options were more varied, but after investigating train and bus options, I came to the obvious conclusion that I should just start driving south, and see what happens. So after bidding a tearful goodbye to Dan, I set off down the Highway 1, a lonesome drifter with no concrete plans to speak of. Man i'm cool.

just a man and his bike

I decided that I'd stay in the town of Dong Hoi, some 200 Km south of Vinh, and finally set off just after lunchtime. (didn't I say in a previous post i'd never leave at the hottest time of day again?.. woops) The drive proved more pleasant than expected. I got to see some fabulous scenery, and the first glimpse of the ocean I'd had in several months.

Ocean to the right, mountains to the east. Would you have taken the tunnel? Yeah.. me neither

In addition, while taking a short break to rehydrate, I witnessed a sword fight. No, not an elegant, choreographed duel like you see in the movies, but literally two guys chasing each other at full sprint, angrily brandishing 2.5 foot long sabers, which they were not shy about swinging at one another whenever they got close enough. Just when I thought I was about to watch someone lose an appendage, the brawl got broken up by several other guys carrying identical blades of their own. The main assailant was apprehended, and I got the hell out of there before they brought out the battle axes and maces...

read on to see if I stumble across any other dangerously violent activity. Plus: pictures of caves!

Day 16 & 17: Travel Marathon Revisited/Reversed

It was a bright Saturday morning, and time for me to bid adieu to the Bolaven Plateau and make my way toward the border (which had my bike) and Dan (who had my money). I had one last hearty meal of Laab (spicy pork & herb salad) and sticky rice, and got a good luck/safe journey bracelet, both made and delivered by Mama herself.

The drive was pleasant, if not as scenic as I expected, but definitely colder than I was ready for. I dodged a short rain shower in a cafe that served locally grown coffee (The Plateau is the first place the French brought coffee to be cultivated in Laos), and was back in Pakse by the early afternoon. I stopped by the bus station and booked a sleeper bus for that night headed north. The price was wwaaaaaaay more than I wanted to pay, but my only cheaper option got me to the midway point at 11 PM, and I was not trying to pay for a bus AND a room. After returning the bike I posted up in a cafe until leaving time at 8.

Bus snack. Just how i like my butter: extra chocky

The bus was comfortable enough, but way too fast, and I arrived at Tha Kek, my point of disembarkation, around 2 in the morning. Just where I want to be in a small town in the middle of the night: the bus station. Having already overpaid for the bus, I most certainly was not going to now go overpay for a room that I was only going to use for 3 hours. Luckily, there was a very cozy looking bench that I camped out on, and there were even several locals staying the night as well, which made the whole thing much less lonely/nerve-wracking than it could have been

In the morning, Dan met me at the station, and it was lovely to see his smiling face again. Sleep deprived but in good spirits, we hopped on a bus headed in our direction at 6:30 AM. This bus happened to be the slowest bus ever, but we eventually made it back to the border and our beloved bikes.

Happy to be back with our babies

Another scenic ride through the mountains and a not-so-scenic ride through the suburbs brought us back to Vinh by dusk. We were back in Vietnam finally, and ready to decide how we would proceed, something we'd not considered fully since having our plan derailed by the Lao government/passport debacle.

Tune in next time to find out what we decided to do, PLUS: a bonus video of Dan singing Call Me Maybe (warning: this video may or may not exist. But this is the only place to see it, if in fact it does exist, so you better come back next time and check, just to be sure...)

Day 14 & 15: The Abbreviated Plateau Trip

So here we are in Pakse, ready to get our mountain motorbike driving on in the Bolaven Plateau in Southern Laos, and suddenly Dan's passport is gone. No telling if it was dropped, misplaced, stolen, or used for rolling doobies by the doobie smoking hippies of Don Det. Regardless of how it happened, the thing was gone. So Dan headed to the soul-crushing mush that is Vientiane, and I headed to the Plateau to try to salvage some enjoyment out of an unfortunate situation.

The Bolaven Plateau is a (insert definition of a plateau) lying east of Pakse and the Mekong at an average elevation just over 1000 Km. The area has seen a rise in tourism in recent years thanks to some beautiful landscapes, a collection of impressive waterfalls, and gloriously cheap accommodation. We'd originally hoped to roam around the area with our own motorbikes for 4-5 days, then make our exit at the southernmost border crossing back in to Vietnam, but we all know what happened to THAT plan... (we all know... right??). Given circumstances, a shortened, solo version of the trip would have to be undertaken, for better or worse.

Well... at least the dude in the bungalow NEXT to mine had a good view of Tad Hang...

My first destination was Tad Lo, an area that actually includes 3 fairly substantial waterfalls (Tad Hang, Tad Lo, and Tad Suong), and is the hub of tourism on the Plateau. I grabbed a rickety bungalow by the river with a view of the falls, and immediately made my home in the hammock on the porch. Things were lookin' good, and though I was missing my buddy, I was definitely enjoying the solitude and the peacefulness of the environment I found myself in.

Read on to find out what seemingly inevitable disaster lies in store next