Part II

After recovering from the shock of Felicity’s accident, we got back on the bikes and headed to the beach road where we would only have to make a couple of turns before being on the road out of town towards the waterfalls. It still hadn’t dawned on us that this place was bigger than we thought, had WAY more traffic than we thought and that the trip out there wasn’t going to be along some pleasant country road. We slowly and carefully made our way through the city and out onto the highway where the shoulders are wide enough to ride a bike on without directly being in the right hand lane. This however doesn’t account for people riding both push bikes and motorbikes the wrong towards you down this shoulder!

The scenery was beautiful. Lush hills rising gently to the left and rural dwellings, rice fields and a beautiful temple to the right. We were in a groove and feeling relatively comfortable now. The sun was warm on our arms and it’s just a thoroughly visceral way of travelling and experiencing a landscape at the same time. My speedometer and odometer weren’t working so having not seen a sign to the waterfalls so far, I was hoping Flic would have an idea of how far we had travelled. After about an hour Flic signalled that we were pulling over at small stop offering refreshments. This was little more than a tin shed with plastic tables and chairs, drinks and a TV playing on the back shelf. Through broken bits of English and Vietnamese were we able to ascertain that we needed to go a kilometre or so back in the direction we had come.

We found the turn off and then found ourselves blessedly free of the highway and onto a tiny country lane with rural shacks on either side, giggling children, cows and chickens by the roadside and the odd bike or two moving from house to house. Part of the dirt road was quite flooded and I tried to think back to how Ewan and Charlie dealt with these conditions in the Long Way Round. Flic was moving quite slowly through them and I pointed out that the water and mud wasn’t deep and that it was better to give the bike a few more revs. This seemed to do the trick once I had already come off gently because I’d come up too quickly behind her.

This quieter, country road was such a relief from the highway and a lovely way to take in the clean air and the faces that greeted us as we meandered past. We parked our bikes at a shelter where the trek on foot to the waterfalls begun.  It was so quiet and tranquil walking through the jungle with the noise of the water beckoning us from down the path. They weren’t so much waterfalls as a river cascading and bubbling over a series of giant boulders crating little rapids, pools and streams. In attempting to cross, Flic fell in up to her knees to which helpfully, I couldn’t resist laughing. She changed into some spare shorts she had and I offered to take her jeans and socks back to the last remaining patching of sunlight further back. On the return trip I discovered what I was convinced was an easier crossing point but judging the leap across incorrectly I endeed up in the rapids up to me waist. With both of us now wet, there was nothing to do but laugh, take photos and just chill out for a bit in the surrounds of lush and tranquil jungle with nothing but the noises of the river and the birds.

I was anxious to get moving back home in order to arrive back in daylight and to avoid any peak hour traffic. We achieved neither. The trip back home along the highway was nerve wracking as buses overtook buses who were overtaking buses and if you weren’t looking far enough ahead, you could quickly end up with two or three trucks or buses all moving towards you across the road with other motorbikes trying to overtake you as well. It was on a climb up a hill that the second accident of the day happened.

A guy on a motorbike with a girl on the back overtook myself and then Felicity but then swerved in and out erratically in front of before for some reason slamming his brakes on. Flic broke hard, lost control and came skidding off. Again, I quickly pulled off as far out of the path on the traffic as I could and looked to make sure she was ok. She was on her bum, throwing her helmet to the ground and screaming “What the fuck?!?!?” I saw that her jeans were torn at the knee and that she now had a decent graze on the other elbow to match her earlier one. I looked up to see the offending motorcyclist who had stopped and was looking back at us. “What the fuck is with people driving in this fucking country?!” Fic exclaimed. Her knee didn’t look to bad, just more grazes. Sore, no doubt but no serious injury. I looked up again and more motorcyclists had stopped to see if we were ok but the dickhead who had caused the accident had sped off. Seeing that she wasn’t badly injured, the anger in her eyes and the tall guy with sunglasses on and a bandanna over his face probably prompted him to get the fuck out of there. Just as well for him for having made sure Flic was ok, I was ready to put my fist through his face.

Having moved the bikes further out of harms way and retrieved her side mirror from the middle of the road, I then unpacked the antiseptic wipes and band aids from my backpack. I hadn’t looked closely but the ones I bought in Singapore are 70% pure alcohol and mostly used for cleaning an area before an injection. On open wounds, they burn like hellfire and poor Felicity was in tears and screaming as we tried to clean her up. With the sun setting and the traffic heavy, I was even more anxious to get back home. When we were ready, we got back on and rode into town as slowly as we could without causing further accidents by being too slow. The truck and bus drivers coming towards need to be seen to be believed and if we weren’t so intent on keeping our already tired and now aching bodies on the road, would have hurled abuse at them for sure.

Riding back through town as it became dark was so nerve wracking. I took the lead this time as even though I preferred to have Flic in front of me where I could see her than loosing her in my mirror behind me, it hadn’t worked out well so far so I went first. The traffic was thick and fast with riders weaving in and out constantly and even guys walking out into the traffic to spruik cheap drinks at their bars. I don’t know if one of them actually caught my “Get off the fucking road!” but I dout it would have made a  difference. Miraculously we made it back to the quieter side street where we rented the bikes from and handed them the side mirror which I couldn’t get back on and retreated home. Later the bike hire operators turned up at our backpackers with a list of damages to Flic’s bike. Tired and exhausted, we promptly gave them the cash they needed for repairs (bugger all in $AUD) and then headed into town for some dinner. Incredible clay pot ginger chicken and seafood dishes and several Saigon lagers later, we were laughing and giving silent thanks that we were alive and well. Poor Felicity has some horrible grazes but every time she got up and knew that she had to get back on the bike. Today, she was my hero. She is one tough little bugger and though she hurts and understandably broke down once we got home she remains one of the toughest women I have had the pleasure to meet and one with whom I want to continue to have many many great adventures with. And she wants to keep riding!

We have however, decided that we are not doing any more biking in populated areas, just quiet country roads! Seriously, it’s just insane here. This morning we encountered some young Dutch kids about to set off on bikes who clearly had no idea what they were doing and were in shorts and singlets. We implored them to be careful and to go home to at least put some jeans on. One look at Flic’s arms and legs seemed to convince them of this as we saw them conferencing and pointing at us as we walked away. Biking is great fun but fuck, not in this traffic!

Blood, sweat and tears....no seriously! Part 1.

A beautiful sunny Vietnam morning greeted us as we left our room clad in jeans, boots and with our own motorbike helmets under our arms as we heading into town to have breakfast and hire bikes. With the desire to do a fair bit of biking on this trip, we decided to buy our own decent helmets that fit as most people around here drive like crazy and with little more than bicycle helmets on their heads. About 20kms out of town are some waterfalls and a temple that we wanted to see so we had our mission.

Having only spent one night here, my impression of this town was that it was something akin to Anglesea with some light traffic. Mistake #1. Little more than 15mins on our bikes and disaster struck. Motorbikes are not hard to ride but when you’re driving on the opposite side of the road to what you’re used to and there are really no road rules that anyone obeys, things can very easily go wrong. Flic was heading towards in intersection with her indicator on and I called out to keep going as we had a green light and I thought she was heading the wrong way. She paused in the intersection, changed direction and an old lady carrying a basket of noodles ran the red light. I watched with horror as in slow motion (it actually does appear this way) they collided in the intersection and Flic was thrown off. “SHIT!!!!!! SHIT! SHIT!”

I quickly made my way around and got my bike up onto the curb. I turned to see that Flic and the lady were both thankfully on their feet. Right. Make the scene safe. Flic was in tears, bleeding from her arm and wanting to know if the other lady was ok. Myself and another bystander got the bikes off the road and onto the footpath. Having ascertained that Flic’s injuries were only superficial it was then time to treat the wound while trying to make sense of the scene and convey to this woman that we would fix her bike, which had ruptured the fuel tank and that we would compensate her for the noodles which seemed her primary concern.  By this point many kind folk had either walked over or got off their own bikes to help. Imagine the scene. One shell shocked Aussie with a severely grazed elbow, the other with adrenaline pumping flat chat, and a dozen Vietnamese talking loudly and quickly in their own language. The wonderfully helpful and friendly locals helped us to more than adequately compensate her for the noodles (around $ 2.50 AUS!!!) and negotiate with the mechanic across the road to fix her bike for around $70AUS. The locals were wonderful in A) treating Felicity (some guy just appeared with antiseptic) and B) making sure that we paid a fair price but weren’t ripped off ourselves. The old ladies were lovely in comforting Flic as she was quite upset at having disrupted this lady’s form of income.

I took both the bikes the 2 blocks back to our residence and we then walked home for further cleaning, a can of coke to sooth the nerves and to calm down a bit. I had thought that this would be the end of Felicity’s turn on a  motorcycle, at least for today but after a while heroically she wanted to continue on with our day.

This post is too long now but this was not the end of our misadventures today, and nor was it the last motorbike accident.

To be continued.....

* For parents reading this, we are both fine. Really.

‘Nam by train.

The insistent beeps of my phone alarm jolted us awake at dawn as we prepared to leave Ho Chi Minh City on the train to the coastal town of Nah Trang. It truly is a city that never sleeps and the hustle and bustle of traffic had well and truly begun as we groggily emerged from our narrow alley into the dark of the street. Taxi haggled for and ridden we arrived at the station and boarded the train that we would sit on for 8 hours. Once our packs were safely stored above us, we settled in for quite an enjoyable overland trip. The crumbling houses and terraces of the city that literally hugged the train line started to give way to an agricultural landscape with periodic tin shacks and outer limit graveyards. The further on we went, the more the rice fields started to line up as they huddled beneath the rising craggy peaks of modest mountains. Felicity opined that you get the truest impression of a country via its rural spaces. You certainly see the physical toil etched on the furrowed faces that glance up at you at the train whistles past. I actually saw a man ploughing a field with a steel plough harnessed to an ox.

The seats in the carriage reclined nicely and snack carts and even hot food came past at intervals to ease early morning travel grumbles from the stomach. Having sleep for the first few hours I then divided my attention in equal parts between the changing scenery outside, X-Men II on the TV halfway down the carriage and a dodgy photocopied version of Zen and the Art of Motorcycle Maintenance in my hand. Having packed a fair bit of activity into our days since we left Singapore (as well as the mania prior) it was quite nice to relax in a tired but quite workable and mostly comfortable train. I quite driving at home, I love the immediacy of horseback and motorcycle riding but sometimes there’s nothing quite like letting someone else do the driving while you watch new landscapes unfurl before your eyes. 

The Heat is On in Saigon

From the sublime to the ridiculous sums up our transition from the rustic tranquillity of our little island to arriving in HCMC. It is chaos here! But in a cool way.  We’re staying right in the heart of District 1 in the touristy area of Do Quang Dau street. Crossing the road is an adventure in itself every time. You can’t wait for a break so you just have to avoid cars and then walk into a thousand oncoming motorbikes who somehow seem to weave around you. This little exotic cull de sac is teeming with Vietnamese and tourists alike as everything from sunglasses to fake Crumpler bags to fruit is exchanged at a dizzying pace to the soundtrack of millions of car and bike horns.  

Beer costs around $2 US and goes down a treat with some incredible Vietnamese food after a day of trekking around galleries, museums, markets and shops. By night this area of a glo with neon lights, bars spruiking cold beer, scantily clad women waving you inside, tantalising smells, bad western pop songs and of course, motorbikes. Our room is dingy but neat and comfortable. You access it via a dark alleyway, past a small kitchen that looks like it hasn’t changed in two hundred years and up some stairs where I have to bend in half to get past the landing.

As I became intoxicated by the sights and smells (and maybe a bit of the local beer) I decided to finally get the tattoo I’ve been thinking about for nearly a year. The artist’s work seemed decent and his implements sterile so I studied the peeling paint and wallpaper with great detail as buzz by buzz, a very neat symmetrical black compass rose materialised on my right shoulder.

HCMC or Saigon as it is still called in many quarters has been a thoroughly exciting and insightful place to cool our heels. It is a city that is constantly on the move and the thriving trade in retail and various modes of transport render it communist in name only. The scars of the American war are still abundantly evident in the deformed people operating three wheeled contraptions with their arms and in the museums and galleries where shocking and poignant images greet you on every wall. The city has charmed me will always be an exceptionally fun memory of such a wild metropolis.  

CENSORED!!!

So apparently Vietnam blocks facebook! Until I find a reliable sneaky way around it, please excuse my absence.
James

Singapore - London: The Long Way Across

Well, after a 6 month sojourn on dry land, the Privateer is back on the cyber seas with stories of travel, food, boozy nights, sunny days, and general (mis)adventure. This part of the story begins with the leaving of Singapore. In a nutshell, our time in Singapore was simultaneously one of the most fun and frustrating times of our lives. It’s a relatively new country that like most infants is loud and petulant as it fumbles its way into the 21^st century on the journey from crawling to walking. What I will say though, is that the friendships we made this year will stay with us and still bring a smile to my face this day when I think about the good times I’ve had with my new Singaporean, Australian, French, Canadian, Swiss, South African, Caribbean, Kiwi and American friends.

The last week of Singapore bought with it precious little sleep and a dizzying amount of tasks to be completed before we set sail, so to speak. Therefore it was with 2 hours sleep that we finally arrived at Changi airport at 7am. With the back rows of the plane miraculously vacant we were able to lie down and catch one more hour of sleep before we awoke to the Captain announcing our decent into Phuket Thailand. I groggily sat up, buckled my seatbelt and was then shaken awake in the most beautiful way possible by the sight that greeted me out the window. Silver waters with islands strewn around like broken giant’s teeth, covered in centuries of jungle. The ostentatious crassness of Marina Bay Sands was suddenly a distant memory as mountains rose to meet us and tourist brochure words like “paradise” suddenly seemed meaningful.

The journey from Phuket to our little island was mostly smooth except for me leaving a backpack on the bus after it had departed but thankfully a very helpful cab driver chased the bus down for us and it was retrieved. Still fighting fatigue we lugged our packs onto a little bum boat and chugged over to the island of Koh Kho Khao. Felicity’s optimism at a 2km walk with 4x backpacks and 2 x already weary shoulders was thankfully reined in by a friendly restaurateur who loaded us into his tuk tuk and drove us to our resort in exchange for the promise of returning to his restaurant later on.

That night, the sunset that greeted us from the beach was a panorama of epic proportions. It was like one giant cyc with a thousand par cans lighting it, changing every minute or so “LX 301....Go!” The soft blue sky was strewn with the tails of fiery dragon breath while dark clouds gathered to the west like angry trolls mustering for the last battle to end all ages. This resort is the perfect combination of luxury and rustic. The food on the island is the best Thai I’ve ever eaten (well, you’d hope so, wouldn’t you?) and the locals are super friendly and laid back. If ever we needed an antidote to the city life of Singapore, this is it. We’ve taken in a festival by the pier, ridden around the island on scooters and played pool late into the night with friendly locals and their children.

The rest of trip through Vietnam, Laos and Cambodia will be much more budget backpacker style but this little treat in Thailand is the perfect way to unwind after the 14 hour days of packing up the pride lands. And the best part is the angry versions of ourselves that almost got us arrested in Sinagpore have been gratefully left behind and we feel like our true selves once more.

Pics coming soon!