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 

 
After the tunnels I grabbed an awesome seafood lunch, then made my way down the highway. I rolled in to Hue right on schedule, found a cheap and happenin' hostel to stay at, and settled in.

I wasn't all that concerned with the historical sights in Hue, and was itchin' to get down to Hoi An, which is a shortish, scenic drive from Hue. Though nothing was set in stone, I was considering getting up early the next day, taking the obligatory Hue pictures, then making my way to Hoi An in the late morning. I went to bed not sure of what I would do the following day, but fate had a wild time in store for me.

I did indeed get up earlyish, and I did get the obligatory photos of Hue. Here's one:

Boring right? That's how I felt about it too. I was a bit bored in general in fact. Perhaps that's difficult to believe, but after traveling alone for a few days, and getting a fair dose of rollin solo in Laos, I wasn't particularly psyched about the prospect of doing more of the same for the next couple weeks. Drive here, take pictures, drive there, take a few more, eat some food, find a place to stay, write blogs about it all. The whole thing was feeling a bit ho-hum. I went back to where I parked my bike, and got waved over to share a drink with one of the tour guides sitting at a table nearby. I didn't feel like dodging another sales pitch, but the dude seemed friendly enough, and I was thirsty.

After some conversation and sugarcane juice, the dude turned out to be quite cool, and quite good at English. My bike needed an oil change, so he took me to his friend's shop, and we had a cup of coffee while we waited. He convinced me that it was too late to leave for Hoi An, and we then made lunch plans. A couple hours later, we met up at a local restaurant, along with his girlfriend and another guide by the name of Ben, who spoke little English but was a laugh and a half. We polished off a case of beer between the four of us (Vietnamese drink a lot of beer), and it was officially a party. We headed down to a local Karaoke joint (oh asia...), where we kept the festivities lively, and by the time I got back to my hostel at 5 PM, I was fairly drunk, and definitely no longer bored.

Mid-Trip Crisis Overted