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Vietnam: A Cycling Odyssey.
by Patrick Spinks
photos by Martine Willox
QualityShots.com
A woman in a conical hat walks the divide between terraced rice paddies so green they glow. Two fishermen haul in their nets as a crimson sunrise unfolds over the South China Sea. Elsewhere, morning markets come alive, while bargaining over seafood, produce and livestock ensues. Typically, another day in Vietnam begins.
We test our language skills by offering the local greeting, Xin Chao, but few understand our pronunciation of their native tongue. Most smile, bemused as two Canadians, their belongings strapped on their bikes, ride by. We smile in return and exchange a wave. We are pleased with both the setting and the friendly people we encounter while touring this small Asian country.
Cycling seems the natural way to travel Vietnam. The relatively flat coastline and popularity of bikes suggest this is the ideal place to tour. My girlfriend, Martine and I purchase five-speed mountain bikes in nearby Laos, secure our packs with bungy cords and set off to experience the country in intimate detail.
Our conception of Vietnam as a bike haven is inaccurate at best. In the cities, large trucks and buses belch swirling clouds of dust and exhaust. Our eyes burn and we squint from discomfort until well past city limits.
Many locals still rely on cycling (often two, three or four to a bike), but scooters have become the vehicle of choice for Vietnam’s growing middle class. Traffic circles in Hanoi and Ho Chi Minh (formerly Saigon) have become metal mosh pits. In the Vietnamese traffic hierarchy, where size dominates, cyclists now rank a notch lower.
Riding through rural villages, where most locals still saddle up, our pace is slow. This allows for more cultural interaction than other conveyances. Our ‘interaction’ ranges from uncomfortably long stares from older generations, to shy giggles and furtive glances from children as they rush past in their crisp white school uniforms. Outspoken adolescents test their English by screaming, "Hellowhatisyourcountrywhatisyourname?" as they run, pedal, or race their scooters alongside. Periodically, our exchanges lead to near collisions as bikes, scooters and pedestrians swerve to avoid the overloaded buses and trucks that dominate the road.
We avoid the heat by cycling in the predawn hours. This also provides us a glimpse into the routines of daily life. We observe people bathing and washing laundry, either by a standpipe or in the river. Locals tote their produce on poles balanced across their shoulders. Their balance of goods poised on each end of the stick looks effortless, even as they manage large loads.
Each day our pedaling begins at 5 am. We follow the national highway south along the coast, reaching our destinations before noon with ample time to wander the back streets. Our discoveries unfold like chapters in a history book. Each encounter illustrates a page of chronicled offerings, from early trading with China and Japan, to the rise and fall of powerful empires and dynasties.
Most towns host more attractions than we can manage in one afternoon. We spend several hours exploring the moated Citadel in the town of Hue. The original earth-made structure was constructed in1804, but an upgrade covering it with bricks 2 metres thick has allowed it to survive Vietnam’s turbulent history.
Inside the citadel, the cool touch of the marble floors soothes our bare feet as we visit the ornately decorated Thai Hoa Palace (Palace of Supreme Harmony). In this spacious hall where 80 carved and lacquered pillars support the ceiling, the emperors of the Nguyen dynasty once held official ceremonies. Now young children play hide and seek between the poles as their parents examine the elaborate carvings.
We arrive at palm fringed Lang Co Beach after the last bus departs. A warm seabreeze dries our handwashed laundry in front of our $10 home for the night. Bus travellers stop only for a thirty-minute lunch break, so we have the place to ourselves. An amazing meal of fresh seabass, squid, rice and noodles gives us sustenance to wander the expansive white sand coast. Two fishermen pull their dinner from the surf as the orange sun drops lower in the sky. Offers for a 1/2 hour massage on the beach are too tempting. We relax in total bliss for $2 each.
We greet the morning with a grueling climb. Departing Lang Co, our well-fueled muscles tackle seven kilometres of steep switchbacks. The grade ascends sharply and the road narrows. Within minutes, my t-shirt is soaked, as if assaulted by a spontaneous cloud burst. Buses race around every corner and pinball their way downhill. My heart skips furiously,
beating simultaneously in fear and exertion.
Finally we crest at Hai Van pass, but the morning mist obscures our hard- earned views. A French army bunker later used by the South Vietnamese and American troops is closed to visitors, so we descend to escape the relentless souvenir vendors. Our two-hour climb is quickly undone. Later, in Danang, we explore the Cham museum’s large collection of Hindu carvings and statues.
Thirty-seven kilometres south of Danang, we approach the historic town of Hoi An. A timeless feel, enhanced by elaborately carved and painted heritage houses and a Japanese covered bridge, often captivates travellers for a week or more. We wander the frenzied market that now occupies the Huong Van Thu St dock, an important trading port since the 2nd century.
Walking, we discover, is an excellent respite for saddle sores. Strolling along the Thu Bon River we uncover temples and ancient tombs. I resist temptation and do not buy a tailor-made suit, regardless of its $35 price tag. Although I pass, many other travellers will wait three days for a well crafted, yet bargain creation.
Hoi An is our base for visiting one of Vietnam’s most famous attractions: My Son (pronounced MEE SAWN). Described by Lonely Planet as Champa’s counterpart to the grand cities of Southeast Asia’s other Indian influenced civilizations- Angkor Wat, Borobudur and Ayuttaya -the ruins at My Son speak of a noble, but tragic past.
We walk in quiet awe through what was once an important religious centre: a place of learning and enlightenment as well as the resting place for monarchs in the kingdom of Champa. Built between the 7th and 15th centuries, there were eventually 68 temples and buildings of intricately carved stone, many with gold covered roofs. Years of looting and then the seven year ‘American War’ have taken their toll. For the remaining 20 structures at My Son, the bullet marked walls and bomb cratered setting speak of less enlightened activities.
We stop frequently to visit sun baked beaches along the southern coast, where foreigners are rare. Martine has a difficult time ignoring the teenage boys’ obsession with her modest bathing suit. I take her hand, advising her as we walk away, to ignore their lewd stares. Vietnamese women often swim in full dress, so exposed flesh is a novelty.
Azure water washing fine white sands is not our only reason for visiting Nha Trang. We’ve come for the popular Mama Hahn and Mama Linh day cruises. These party boats offer travellers snorkeling, a buffet lunch and a "floating bar" for $10. Drinking mulberry wine while relaxing in the warm waters of the South China Sea is a perfect antidote to weeks of cycling.
The cool temperatures of Dalat, in the central highlands, are a welcome change from the steamy coast. The markets are full of temperate fruits like strawberries, plums, and black berries. We indulge heavily. That night our order of mixed vegetables actually consists of more than just spinach.
To cover more ground in the hilly terrain, we rent a motorcycle for a mere $8/day. We visit the well-maintained Chua Linh Phuong temple, a Buddhist nunnery, and the impressive but touristy, Prenn waterfalls. We stop in some small villages to buy weavings and crafts from the indigenous hill tribes. The Montagnard (mountain people) weave 1.5m/day on manual looms, which they then sell for less than $20. Smaller items like CD holders or toiletry bags go for $7-10.
After celebrating Buddha’s birthday in Bao Loc’s local temple, we climb out of town to earn our first long descent. For more than an hour we coast through the rugged mountains- dense jungle divided by terraced hillsides and rocky outcrops. Our evening ritual of bug repellant, anti-malarials and protective clothing prepares us for exploring the scenic hamlet of Dinh Quan, where massive boulders rise out of the rice fields.
Our final day of riding covers more ground on the flat plains of southern Vietnam, past tea plantations and intensely cultivated fields. Closer to Ho Chi Minh, towns become increasingly industrialized. My mouth is thick with dust, making the experience less than enjoyable.
Our arrival at the former capital of South Vietnam marks the end of our cycling journey. After a few days negotiating the chaotic traffic circles, we sell our bikes to a small shop and fly north for our next adventure: exploring the UNESCO world heritage site Halong Bay, and visiting the hill tribes in Sapa near the Chinese border.
IF YOU GO:
Getting There: Flights from Canada to Hanoi or Ho Chi Minh start from $961 Cdn. For Great Deals on Airfares, Click Here
Another popular gateway to S.E. Asia is Thailand. Bangkok-Hanoi costs $275 Cdn. Most airlines allow bicycles to be shipped free as one piece of luggage if the pedals are removed, tires deflated and handle bars sideways.
Visitors require an entry visa; for visas and travel information call 1-604-639-5100
Budget: $1 CDN = 8000 VND.
A pronounced "two price" system is the norm. Foreigners are charged 50 000 VND admission for attractions, whereas Vietnamese nationals pay 5 000 VND. Hotels and train fares are similarly priced, but daily costs are nominal by western standards. Budget Hotels $4-20 CDN; Budget meals $2-4 CDN.
Health:
Vietnam has the full gamut of tropical diseases present: Malaria, Japanese encephalitis, Hepatitis, Meningitis. Consult your local travel clinic 6 weeks prior to departure for immunizations and precautionary information.
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