Fight the Power: The Central Highlands Part I

Lets get something straight: I'm not a hardcore cyclist, not even your average one and when it comes to a healthy living I'm almost on the other side of the spectrum. I enjoy smoking, drinking and if there is a higher power I believe in, it must be chocolate. On an average day on the road I'll do as many stops as I feel like, usually far more than necessary, but I can't help it if there's sugarcane juice stalls everywhere. Until I got to Da Lat I'd ridden mostly on flat roads/trails, or low mountains with gentle slopes making my life pretty easy, not prohibiting the occasional smoke in my stops midway. I knew I'd be riding in mountainous areas from now on, waiting for the moment with both dread and excitement.

Leaving Nha Trang behind me, and after 50 easy kilometres, the road started going steadily uphill, rising from sea level to almost 1700m in a 30km stretch. I think it took me a couple of lifetimes. Now, after having crossed more mountains than I care to remember, I have to admit that this particular route is not hard, just long but back then, being my first serious one it did make me re-think a few things about starting late, drinking too much and chain-smoking. Having said that, when I was not being busy dying, I had a great time. The scenery is spectacular, green mountains all around, every turn revealing another one.

I decided that 120km were enough for the day, and spent the night in a karaoke hotel just 25km before Da Lat.

A thick wall of mist as I was approaching the 1700m pass

Repairing a bus. A common site around the country

The-to my eyes uncontrollable-slash and burn agriculture

I've got only one thing to say about Da Lat: Milk! It seems to be the only place in SE Asia where they actually milk the cows, making me a very happy man. Together with cheese-and chocolate as I said earlier- it's the one thing I miss the most. You can always get some Australian in a super market in most of the big cities, but nothing beats a fresh local product especially if it's tasty, and this one is. Add a bakery that made an excellent chocolate cake and I was sorted for my stay there.

Da Lat sounds like a nightmarish city to visit, it's called a honeymoon destination, is fairly near to Saigon, receives tons of -mostly Vietnamese- tourists but is far from it. The air feels very fresh due to the altitude, it's got a buzzing market with excellent food, the centre with its big lake is charming to walk around, but most of all it's got kick-ass surroundings, lots of villages and mountains to visit. I went for the easy route and rented a motorbike. This is the coffee producing region of Vietnam-a coffee that's considered to be among the finest in the world, giving me a great excuse to try it whenever possible. Every tourist destination that respects itself must have a waterfall, and Da Lat being overzealous has 5 or more, I can't remember. I decided there and then I'm not falling for it again, they are mostly the same, small, not much water, throw an elephant and/or some tribal workshop in the corner for good measure and call it “the must-see attraction”. Yeah, right. 

Plenty of greenhouses around the city, mostly with flowers

The kitsch guardian of the flower market

Bonsai in the making

Ahh, the Caribbean

The "Crazy House", a Gaudiesque construction in Dalat

No more waterfalls for me...

Coffee plantations

Coffee beans drying in the sun

A silk factory

I found my favorite Vietnamese dish. It's called Banh Cuon and the sheer thought of it makes me drool. Empty steamed rice flour dumplings cut in small pieces in the bottom, thin layers of grilled  pork dipped in spicy crushed rice batter, bean sprouts, carrot, mint, peanuts and possibly a few other ingredients on top, dressed with a small amount of thin sweet and spicy sauce. Up north the dish differs a bit, with the pork being inside the dumplings together with wood ear mushrooms, topped with a few mint leafs. Either way, it's tasty as hell. If you are in Da Lat, head to the first floor of the market. It's the second stall in the south side.

The night market

Going north towards Buon Ma Thuot, I trusted my map(long lost, no detailed photo of the ride this time!) and followed a secondary road through a mountain pass and a few villages. After the 1800m pass and the first village, the gravel road improved a lot, and suddenly I was on a sealed one going steadily downhill. But the party was over prematurely... 15km later the road literally ended! Since I didn't find a crossroad or something I hadn't bothered asking someone, nor had anyone bothered to tell me I was going the wrong way. Thankfully I hitched a bumpy ride on a truck and went back to that first village. Apparently I had to turn there and follow a tiny road that soon turned into a trail similar to the ones I had done in Cambodia. I was thrilled. For the next 20km it was a pure delight cycling through the forest, going up and down the hills and enjoying some spectacular views of the valleys and the mountains ahead.

A delightful descent, leading nowhere

He's got a knife!

The road ends...

...and I hitch a ride.

K'no, the village I should have turned in.

The trail after K'no

By dusk I reached a village called Dalong and asked around for a place to sleep. I was sent to a coffee shop and to my surprise I saw there a French couple that was staying in the same hotel as I was in Dalat. They had done the same route on a moped, not an easy feat considering parts of the trail were rocky and steep. The boy who owned the place offered to let us sleep in his house and took us for a shower. In the beginning we thought he was taking us to the river and didn't enjoy the prospect of its freezing water but lo and behold, the area is full of hot springs and a communal pool full of blazing hot water awaited us. As is customary in such cases, the whole village gathers around and shower in their sharongs under the starry sky, talking and joking along the way. Back in the house, the local cop came for a visit. He got into an argument with our host, dragged him to the station, and in the end we had to pay the equivalent of two rooms in a decent hotel, money that of course went directly to the cop's pocket. The deal is this: Foreigners are not allowed to stay in local's houses in Vietnam, the official reason being that it's not “safe for us”, the unofficial that we will corrupt them. I'm guessing that a corrupt cop is not an issue.

The communal bath under the starry sky

Having our asses kicked by the locals.

Next day, the ride to Buon Ma Thuot was easy and scenic for the most part, passing by man-made or natural lakes and a few villages. The city isn't that pretty, but being in the center of the coffee producing zone meant I could taste more of it. No Dalat milk though, apparently 170km are too many for the milk man... Next day I said goodbye to Mimi and Damien and headed north. Once again I didn't take the main towards Pleiku but opted for a maze of backroads, doing a few km right next to the border with Cambodia. The first part was mostly downhill, I'm guessing this is the lowlands(!) of the central highlands, since for the next 3 days I was anywhere from sea level to 500m tops.

Catholics coming out of the Sunday morning mass.

River crossing with Mimi and Damien

If there is a lake, floating houses will follow

No slash, just burn. The air felt thin around here

Lonely, or the king of the castle, a matter of perspective

I took the turn towards the border road and 15km later I got stopped by a cop and was asked for my papers and whereabouts. I explained that I was heading north towards Pleiku and the border crossing in order to extend my visa-being a complete idiot, back in Cambodia I had applied for 1 month instead of 2 -and that I chose this road because it's more scenic and light in traffic. Lots of phone calls followed, and soon the Party delegate of the village-an old and very serious man- escorted by 5 soldiers came over. I was asked every conceivable question about my trip and was ordered to go back because it wasn't “safe” for me to go that way. I felt like asking why was the checkpoint here and not 15km back, right at the crossroad, but kept my mouth shut. Having learned my lesson I told them I'd head for Buon Ma Thuot and not towards a village I had seen that possibly didn't have hotels.

Checkpoint

All this hassle-including the 15km backtracking-turned out for the better. When I entered Ea Rok, some guys in a carpentry shop invited me over for some thuoc lao, a long bamboo pipe where you put some tobacco in the end, light, inhale a bit, throw the burnt tobacco inhale again and pray you don't faint. This stuff is so strong that's like having giants hammer your lungs from every direction. For the next two days I learned the true meaning of Vietnamese hospitality and had a terrific time, from dinners and lunches to karaoke with fountains of rice wine and rides around the countryside. I tried in vain to pay for something but they would have none of it, at least I got to buy them breakfast.

Lam with his thuoc lao pipe

The workshop

Duang, practicing his karaoke skills

Once again women don't participate, only sit in the background

The very happy ladies in the market

The gang

A cham temple close to the village

I somehow managed to lose my detailed map of the area so the road to Pleiku turned into an ask-and-pray affair. I was planning to split it in two days, one using the back roads up to Chu Se, a town 40km before Pleiku, and the next on the main. There is so much burning going on in this area that it was like being in some post-apocalyptic no man's land, no animals or sounds, only smoking trees and heat. I got lost a couple of times but two kind men on motorbikes showed me the way and went slow enough so that I wouldn't lose them in the tough parts. Gravel roads, trails, river crossings and the occasional forest were the treats of the day. At some point I passed by a building in front of which some people were chopping cassava roots. They waved, I waved back and continued. A couple of minutes later one of them-dressed in military uniform which of course means nothing here, everybody's got one- comes furious on his motorbike and commands me to follow him. Apparently it was a frontier post and the guy wanted to know why I didn't stop, how the hell did I end up there, and where the hell was I going. I tried to explain to him that seeing a bunch of people chopping roots and waving their hands somehow didn't make me think that it could be a military outpost and that coming from Ea Rok this was the only way to go up north. He had a long look at my map, checked a couple of my bags only to show who was the boss, and let me go. Didn't mind posing for a photo either.

Tree of the day

"Agricultural military outpost"

After 70km I realised I was going towards Pleiku alright, but I wouldn't be passing through Chu Se, it seems there was a backroad all the way up, something I hadn't anticipated. Instead of having 5km to a town with hotels, I was, well, I didn't know where I was. Not that I worried though, any village would do it. There were still only a few houses scattered around, no big village in the horizon but it was mountainous and dark, I was sure I'd find one soon. Suddenly someone flashed a powerfull torch directly in my face. I yelled and as I passed by him I came really close to giving him the finger but thought better. After a couple of minutes a car started following me, keeping the same pace and distance. The exact same torch shined from the passenger seat. I rode as fast as I could to the nearest house, stopped by it and waited for the car to approach. Turned out they were cops, the one with the torch very drunk. The sober one asked where I was going, I pointed towards Pleiku and soon after they were gone, only to wait for me in the next crossroad. I politely asked them if they wanted something, the guy said no, I left and never saw them again. WTF?

Not long after, I reached the town of Chu Prong, had a coffee in a shop and asked the owner for a place to sleep. Before I knew it, the whole village was around me. They don't see foreigners often here. Among them was a girl who was pretty fluent in English so we had a long chat and she acted as a translator whenever someone wanted to ask me something. Everything was looking great again, I was among friendly people, at least two had offered to accommodate me, and then the village cop came. Drunk as hell, spitting insults to the girl, greasy grey hair, leather jacket, the works. There was no chance he would let anyone invite me to his house. They all got into an argument that soon evolved into shouting. The girl translated bits and pieces. Everybody was telling him that it was late-around 9.30- the road was dark, and the next village that could possibly have a guesthouse was far. They asked where did the Vietnamese hospitality go. He would have none of it. I could see that all this could derail into something ugly-not for me, but for them. Next day I would be gone, but they would stay behind and possibly be accused of who knows what. The cop grabbed my hand, tried to force me to move. I kicked it and told him I'm leaving alright, I don't need his help. And then something unexpected happened. As I was leaving, three guys got on their motorbikes and said quietly-so that the cop wouldn't hear they would escort me to the next village. That was 15 mountainous km, meaning at least an hour. 

One of them went fast in order to find me a place to stay and the other two were constantly behind me, going at 10-15km/h. I was overwhelmed. I did my best to go as fast as possible-which of course annihilated me, but when we got to our destination there was no guesthouse to be found. We did an extra 5km until the main road that led to Pleiku, an additional 20km. I tried to give them money for their gasoline and for a beer or two but they wouldn't accept it. We said goodbye, I stood speechless for a while, not knowing how to express my gratitude, and went off for the last 20km stretch. I reached Pleiku at midnight, right in time before the last guesthouse closed its doors.

Relaxed moments in Chu Prong, before all hell broke loose

Next day I went straight to the immigration office to get my visa extension. The extremely impolite officer said I couldn't get it there, even though the officers in the border had said otherwise. Having only 1 day left it was either back to Saigon or north to HoiAn by bus. I decided to do the later, have a look at the city that was supposed to be quite beautiful, and then get a bus back to Pleiku to continue cycling, meaning I'd be doing the same route three times. Why not?

I sit for a coffee somewhere, I meet some guys, we start chatting. One of them says “you need a shave”. I say “yeah, need to find a barber shop”, then I see one right across the street. The guy says “follow me”, and turns out to be the barber. A couple of weeks later I cut my hair as well(sorry b.). I'm gaining 0.02km/h. More aerodynamic, you know...

Some stats, and a map that's not detailed at all and should be used only for reference:

Total distance: 515km

Nha Trang to Da Lat: 145km. The ride to the pass is 50km flat and 30km uphill. After that it's mountainous terrain, so expect to be going up and down. It's a long ride, either start early or stay at km 120 as I did.

Da Lat to Da Long: 65km. This route is excellent, don't even think of going the other way to BMT. Uphill untill the pass at km 30, don't forget to turn left at K'no, km 45. After 20 wonderful km in a trail you'll get to Da Long.

Da Long to BMT: 120km. Easy and scenic, if you're lucky the lake in Lien Son when full is worth a round trip, in my case it was half dry and most of it was turned into rice fields.

BMT to Ea Rok: 70km I'd choose this route towards Pleiku any day, but you need to remember, no guesthouses on the way, with the exception of Ea Sup, but that's just 45km after BMT.

Ea Rok to Pleiku: 115km. Needs a lot of asking to get there, but the mid part of the ride with the river crossings etc is worth it. I'm guessing that if you ask for Chu Se and not Pleiku, you'll get to the main quicker and will stand better chances to find a guesthouse.