Goodnight Cambodia, Goodmorning Vietnam

Most of the cyclists I've met so far said that Cambodia is not the ideal country to cycle mainly because it's just endless flat stretches, and I'll have to agree if what you like is riding in the highways or if you stick to your guide book suggestions. I ditched mine soon after I started because it weighted too much and offered too little. My belief is that a map and lots of advise from the locals is all you need most of the times, as long as you fancy going a bit off the beaten track. The routes that you'll find in my previous postings have been rewarding, tough at times, fun, and when the surroundings weren't that great, the hospitality, kindness, humor and generosity of the locals made up for it. The one obvious exception is the highway from Phnom Penh to Sihanoukville, any cyclist will find it boring but it was my first ride in SE Asia, my acclimatisation in a way, and since I got out of it alive I'll cherish the memory. As I write these lines, most of Cambodia's national roads are being upgraded and new ones are constructed. The north routes together with the east will likely stay the same for a little while, but I fear that the Cardamons will change to the worse. A new paved road will bring traffic, and with it settlements that will start eating away the forest. There is a maze of trails in the southeast and northwest side of the range, with great potential for exploring and I'm sure that an alternative and more scenic route to the north can be found.
Two sounds have been following me everywhere I go: The dogs, always barking and chasing me but never attacking, and the cicadas, so deafening at times that it feels like you're in the middle of a jungle protest. First time I heard them I thought it was a generator or something!

Out of a total of 2800km I did no more than 500 on tarmac, the rest on a variety of trails, dirtroads, gravel, stones, rocks etc. I've been using on/off tires and been quite happy with them but I seriously suggest a pair of good off road ones, it will make for an easier ride at times.

Remember, that half of the pleasure of riding in Cambodia is its people, but in the rural areas most of them don't speak English apart from a few words. My favorite moment was when a group of 10 drunk men kept telling me "I love you, number one". Communicate in any way possible, learn how to say anything(my favorites being “no problem” and “oh, fuck it”), count for twice the days for any given distance-only so that you recover from the rice wine's hangovers- and you'll be just fine...

Crossing the border to Vietnam was a fairly easy process, mainly because I chose the pass south of Snuol, one that's not used that much. Apart from two trucks and a Vietnamese family coming from the other side, I was by myself. The Cambodian officer was more interested in my limited vocabulary than charging me for my staying past the visa expiry. The Vietnamese officer in the other hand was hard at work cleaning his nose, his little finger buried halfway in his nostril, only to be removed in order to open and check my passport and possibly drop the findings in it, don't know, haven't opened it yet, nor do I plan to.

The big, ugly border building on the Vietnamese side

Random photos after a few days of cycling.

In Cambodia it was rice for breakfast, lunch and dinner. Here it's noodle soup! Pho Bo, Gia, Ga, Bun Bo, practically mean the same, a combination of rice noodles, thin or thick, with pork, beef, meatballs or fish. The Vietnamese cuisine has a great variety from region to region but while on the road, or in remote areas, the easiest or sometimes the only dish one can hope for is this. I can't complain, I find it rather tasty and fill me up nicely for a couple of hours. Comes with fresh cilantro, mint bean sprouts and other unnamed veggies on the side that you chop and throw in.

There is flowers everywhere, and they are making my day! Well, mostly during the Tet(Vietnamese new year) festivities, but it's obvious that people here have a fixation with them.






The markets are still here, smelly and colourful as ever, and a bit tidier...









Finally, I can read(or so I thought)! During the first day I caught my self reading, repeating, even singing the words in the signs and posters. The problem is that Vietnamese is a tonal language, and a hard one at that. A word can have as many as five different meanings depending on the tone. I had it explained to me and for the life of me I could not hear the difference in some cases. Tone deaf? Maybe. Lets see what happens when I order a fried cellphone battery instead of noodle soup...

Tomatoes are red again! They were green for 3 months in Cambodia. No big issue, they were tasty and everything, it's just a matter of aesthetics. Tomatoes should be red. Period.






There's graves everywhere, sometimes in the most random locations, like in the middle of a rice field. Two schools of thought: One, that people sometimes can't afford to bury their dead in graveyards so they do it in their land. The other one suggests that it will turn their land more prosperous. The truth lies somewhere in the middle says I. In a graveyard close to the border, some of the tombs had a hole in the middle out of which a plant had emerged.














Drivers are mad and highways are an accident extravaganza. If you don't see one...

...the police will help you visualise it, sometimes with very elaborate drawings. If that's still not enough...









...the roadsigns will suggest some creative ways to have your own.

I'm a sissy, for thinking I'm carrying too much weight. This lady's got an extra bicycle among other things!









There's pit stops every few kms, offering my favorite sugarcane juice or coffee-which by the way is excellent-and the opportunity to lie on a hammock for a while.

Baguettes are still here, but chocolate is yet to be found. Bummer!










Dogs stopped attacking me, finally. But they do have some serious dress issues...

Cats in the other hand are stylish!








Motorbikes are more than just a means of transportation. They are washed regularly, and have the fanciest stickers and gizmos, from iphone-shaped mirrors to leds all around. In any village, motorbike shops will outnumber restaurants 3 to 1.






I have a new vice, it's called fruit shake! Can be found everywhere in any combination imaginable. Jackfruit-Papaya is my favorite but sometimes I will revert to the classic mango-pineapple. If only I could get some mangosteen in there...

Wherever I go people want to talk and I find them-women especially-much more extrovert than Cambodians, sometimes close to aggressive. The way they yell at someone to come can very easily be misinterpreted as rudeness whereas it's anything but that.






My first night in the country, I stayed in Bahn Linh, a city 150km north of Saigon.Since the signs are not in English it took me a while to find a hotel. Not many-if any-foreigners visit this place. When I finally found one, I tried to haggle a bit but the price was non negotiable and relatively high compared to Cambodian standards. I have to get used to it I guess. The owner's daughter Vooun, whose English is perfect, said that her mother liked me and would cook me dinner, and that her teenage brother wanted to take me out afterwards. We had a small lesson of Vietnamese, her mother brought me a tray with a portion big enough to feed a cow-which I devoured of course-and off I went, together with her brother and a friend of his. None of them spoke English but he carried an ipad with a translator. We went to the flower market, had a sugarcane juice, then to a concert in his high school, to a mall, and finished with an ice cream. No alcohol for a change! It was very funny trying to communicate through the ipad, watching him type frantically and then reading questions like "ready for ice cream?" or "are you married yet?". Before coming here I'd been hearing lots of negative comments about Vietnamese, how they try to rip you off, that they are not friendly, etc. This first night, and many others that followed (I've already been here for a month) can only suggest the opposite.

Trumpets are not allowed! Because otherwise, honking is every Vietnamese's middle name, and no sign will convince them to stop doing it. When passing through urban areas, the local way to go is not to slow down, but to accelerate and honk your way through. As for the rural ones? If there is a turn coming, honk again, just in case someone is coming your way. When there's no reason whatsoever, eg. in a straight and flat highway with no one around, do it again just to irritate the cyclist passing by.


Saigon is da bomb! It's gigantic, chaotic, noisy, a proper Asian metropolis with extreme opposites, shantytowns and skyscrapers, magnificent architecture-it isn't called Paris in the Orient for no reason-and a population of 7 million that seemed to be out on the streets while I was there.

Land too expensive? Problem solved! Plenty of buildings like this one around the city... 















The Notre-Dame Cathedral built by the French in 1880. The Christian minority of Vietnam is close to 8% of the population.

The interior of the post office, again constructed by the French, and none other than mr. Eiffel himself.

The old phone booths in the post office, now serving as ATMs...

The Reunification Palace, or the Independence Palace as was once called, nowadays serving as a museum, left as it was up to the surrender of South Vietnam in 1975. It's like entering a giant film set.

The bunkers and war operations center under the palace.

A few km outside Saigon is Cu Chi, a location that played an important role in the outcome of the war thanks to a very intricate 120km network -part of a larger one spread across the country- of underground tunnels built and used by the Vietkong. Read more here.
Our guide was in the area during the war, even spent some time in the tunnels and had some stories to tell, which made the whole excursion a bit more interesting-especially when he started improvising some songs in English! Otherwise, there were probably about 1000 tourists going in out and around the tunnels making it a rather noisy experience with us being the sheep and the guides the shepherds. The tour concludes in a firing range, where any trigger happy tourist can choose a weapon and give it a go for 1-2 dollars a pop. Quite distasteful in my opinion considering the location's history.

Boys will be boys

Girls will be boys?

By great coincidence, I ended up in the same dorm room with 2 filmmakers(I'm a director of photography by the way!), Gwen, a Dutch art director and Sejin, a South Korean director. We didn't film anything, but had some great time exploring the city.





How can you miss Vietnamese new year's eve? Very easy... As Gwen and I walked in the Chinese district, we were invited for some beer by a group of locals. It was still early, about 5 in the afternoon, and for the next 5 hours I believe that between the 8 of us we had more beer than I had in my entire life. By 11 we were both wasted beyond recognition. Back at the hotel, I lay in the couch for a bit and in less than a nanosecond I was fast asleep... Had some great fun though, and the fireworks will always be there.