Burn Baby, Burn: Sapa, And The Way To The Border

Here's 3 photos that will give you no idea whatsoever of what's Hanoi like, but I only spent 2 nights there. It's not as buzzing as Saigon but it's got a much more oriental feeling and deserves at least a week or two. Even when one's away from the old town, there's street food sellers everywhere, sometimes the stalls being only a meter or two apart, rice dumplings, pork skewers and pho soup being the most common ones with everything else following, but when I say everything, I mean EVERYTHING, from kitchen utensils to coffee beads, duck heads, shoes, electronics, clothes, bamboo furniture, bamboo anything, rice, more rice, there's merchandise everywhere on the streets, on the stalls, on the shops behind them, the whole town seemingly a giant market. Then there is all the technicians and artisans doing their craft right there on the pavement, sometimes blocking the way in small alleys with all their tools spread out, repairing every imaginable piece of motors, fridges, TVs, you name it, things that are well beyond repair but always seem to come back to life. Whatever hole or microspace is left, is a Bia Hoi joint, where every local who respects him/herself will sit at some point in the day and have a cold beer. Then there is the vast spaces around the Ho Chi Minh mausoleum-went there but it was closed for, well I don't know, fluid change maybe?- big parks surrounding huge concrete buildings with strict communist lines, endless 4-5 lane avenues leading to other districts, some upper-class, but most as poor as the rest of the city.

The Ho Chi Minh mausoleum

A still functioning telephone in the only reliable bicycle shop I found. If you need one, it's located in Le Duan avenue between Trang Thi and Kham Thien, on your right side as you head south. It's a very small shop and you might miss it, but the guy's got quite a lot of gear crammed in there and knows how to properly true a wheel.

Mekong Delta anyone? Spelling mistake of the week.

Before leaving for the northern highlands I took a deep breath and decided to visit Ha Long bay, one of the most famous destinations in SE Asia and certainly the most touristic in Vietnam. In a nutshell, it's a bunch of limestone islets-about 2000 to be exact-most of them no more than 100 metres wide covering a vast area along the bay. I opted for a one-day get on a bus, get to Ha Long, get on the boat, cruise for 4 hours, back on the bus and return to Hanoi, leaving the 2-day, sleeping on the boat crap for the romantics. The day was misty and added some mystery to the journey, the massive rocks appearing one after the other as we cruised along. I got to admit, I haven't felt such serenity for a long time, probably because there were no outboard engined boats around, but most importantly no roads, therefore no motorbikes honking! Add some good company, an Australian couple and a German with whom I had a heated discussion about the Greek-German friendship, and the day passed pleasantly and painlessly-save for one minibus braking down and having to fit twice as many people in the other one, but what the heck, it's all part of the game.

A cave with kitsch lighting in one of the islands

My company for the ride.

The way back.

If there is one thing I'll remember Sapa for, it's the chocolate tart I found on a pastry shop. I'd got a mild food poisoning a few days before but it was so irresistible that every morning I had the same ritual: Chocolate tart, a cup of excellent coffee, then rush to the toilet, ensuring that my stomach didn't get better till I got out of there, and everything I ate went quickly out instead of staying in making me lose 2-3 kilos in a matter of days.

No photos of the tart, but here's a lovely mouse eating its way through one of the pastry shop's other delights!

Amidst the touristic over-development happening all across the country, Sapa has somehow come out relatively unscathed considering the large numbers of tourists it receives annually and still retains its traditional character mixed with the inevitable guesthouses and a tourist-only street plus a few ugly resorts thankfully well away from the town centre.

Situated in a valley at 1500m of altitude, surrounded by mountains and villages of many different ethnic minority groups, its central market serves as a hub for all the villagers to come and buy or sell their goods. Early morning and late in the afternoon, hundreds of women and children-men work in the fields, market is always a woman's affair- walk the mile back and forth with their baskets strapped in their backs.

Vietnam's other name is noise. Everywhere. Trucks honk their way through villages, motorbikes honk just about all the time, people tend to talk loud especially early in the morning, and early here is 5.30, maximum 6. There is construction work going on in every place imaginable, heck, even the cicadas in the forest sound like lathes. I chose a guesthouse away from the main square, a room on the 4^th floor. Opened the curtains and faced this construction site...

Testament to the non-existent health and safety regulations around here. I've seen babies hold machetes twice their size and can't help myself but laugh with western society's sometimes ludicrous concerns.

The area is famous for its rice terraces. Planting season is a few months away so most of them were brown and not that picturesque, still quite beautiful to look at.

I spent two days either cycling or trekking around the area, trying to get as far from Sapa as possible and visit some of the villages. On the second day I met Bao, a Hmong woman on her way to her village who works as a guide in the area. We walked together for the next 3 hours-or better said, I tried to keep up as she climbed like a goat here and there while talking in an equally fast pace. I asked her if people wear their traditional clothes only for tourist's sake, a valid question considering how often it happens in other countries-sometimes even forced by the goverment. She said that they always wear them, they are all very proud of their origins and traditions. There's 8 different ethnic groups in the region, marriages do occur between different ones, but not that often. Harvesting only once a year combined with harsh winters ensure that most are poor, medication is scarce and illnesses plenty. Tourism provides income for some families, either through guided treks or making and selling items to the tourists. In her very joyful manner, she told me more than twice how much she beats her husband when he comes home drunk and then has him sleep outside. After that, our conversation was monopolised by Bao's belief that men are not serious creatures, something I didn't try to disprove... If you happen to be in Sapa and need a guide, give her a call at 01685358529, I guarantee you'll have a great time and learn a lot about the area.

Vidal Sassoon award winner.

The ride from Sapa to the Laos border started with an ascent to the 2000m pass next to Fansipan, Vietnam's highest mountain and one I lament not climbing, offering some spectacular views on the surrounding mountains and the valley ahead. The day was great, partly cloudy and cool enough to ensure an easy 500m ascend, followed by an even greater 25km descent to 600m. That's what I love about ascends, there is always the promise of a roller coaster ride in the other side, hehe. After that I entered the valley following Nam Na river and after 200km gets to Dien Bien Phu, a big nondescript border town that will only be remembered because around here the French were finally defeated, putting an end to the first Indochina war. 

Most of the road is sealed tarmac, with maybe 50km of unsealed or gravel but enough roadworks around them to guarantee that the whole stretch will be ready soon. There's plenty of ascends along the way, but nothing too serious, the road always stays close to the river. I'm sure that a couple of months ago it would have been a good ride, but when I was there the whole place was on fire. There was so much burning going on that for 3 days and all the way to the other side of the border the air was thick, hot, brown-grey and the visibility low. I've seen so much of it during the past 3 months that I wonder what's going to be left in these countries in a decade, but then again, being a European I shouldn't talk, we've done this and worse to our land long ago.

Roadworks and delays along the way. No rush.

Chu, a Vietnamese cyclist I met along the way. He kept filming and repeating, "Hello Petros, hello Chu"

Burn, burn, then burn some more.

The mountain road from Dien Bien Phu to the border was shockingly bad, a dusty pothole extravaganza. So much for the Vietnam-Laos friendship!

So, what's the verdict? A month and a half is not nearly enough to understand the people of a country, as I said recently I just scratch the surface, the language being the biggest barrier. Much has been said between travellers, especially the ones that don't stay only here but visit the neighbouring countries, mostly negative. After having spent 3 months in Cambodia and another 2 in Laos(yes my fellow readers, the blog is seriously lagging behind) I find the differences sometimes striking.

Vietnamese are much more extrovert, sometimes too much, but I've come to realise that it's more in-your-face frankness than rudeness. In the beginning I was offended when mocked for riding a bicycle and not a motorbike-something I've had to a lesser extend in the other countries as well- but then I understood that bicycles represent times people want to forget when there was no food on the table, and I don't expect anyone to understand why a European-wealthy by definition-chooses this way of travel. In the same time, I got help when needed it, been admired for wanting to explore the country and offered hospitality on the spot. I've been invited to dinners, parties, slept at houses, was never allowed to pay, sometimes had to fight for it.

The sound advise I got from James and regrettably didn't follow, was to buy a wedding ring and wear it. I've been offered so many daughters, friends, cousins, asked if I'm married and why not, that it's as close to harassement as it gets.

As I wrote in a previous post, when it comes to mass tourism they have a long way to go. The rip-offs in most major cities and destinations are irritating and not likely to stop soon. You either accept it and live with it or move on to the next country. Many a time I tried to explain to a vendor why it sucks doing it but decided to stop wasting my energy. What got me furious was the extra ticket for the bicycle on the few necessary bus rides I had to take. I understand having to pay a bit more, but twice the price for something that when placed correctly occupies less space than a backpack? Whatever.

When it comes to nature, the country is a cycling paradise. It might lack the remoteness of Cambodia or Laos, but some of the most memorable ones I've done so far were here. After 3000km I covered only a 5th of the country and hope I'll be back some day, the rest of the HCM highway and the northeastern part of the country being the two regions I wish I had time to explore now.

The usual stats, facts and high quality maps. Time to get a gps maybe?

Total distance: 310km

After hearing many negative comments I skipped the Hanoi to Lao Cai ride and got on a bus.

Lao Cai to Sapa: 32km. That's a long ascent, almost from sea level up to 1500m. Many villages on the way, gets pretty scenic after the first 10km or so.

Sapa to Lai Chau: 61km. I had a relatively late start and stayed at this hideous administrative town. Nothing to do there and nothing to see. If you can push it to Phong Tho, it's a better option but an additional(easy) 30km.

Lai Chau to Ta Phin: 62km. There is a long ascent on the last stretch. Ta Phin is a small and cute village with 3 guesthouses-have a ride through it before deciding, I stayed in the last all-wood one, got some great food there. Don't, I repeat, don't stay in Muong Lai, it's ugly as hell.

Ta Phin to Dien Bien Phu: 120km. A long day, but not that strenuous. The last long stretch is flat and easy.
Dien Bien Phu to border: 35km. Crappy, crappy road. The border post is at 1100m of altitude. The last 20km are uphill and there is not a single village along the way.

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.