The Scenic Route: Rural Vietnam

27 May The Scenic Route: Rural Vietnam

Posted at 16:23h in Blog, Personal by Mallory 0 Comments

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Instead of going up the coast through Da Nang and Hue we headed back into the mountains from Hoi An. We passed several small villages displaying the wares of their trades. All along the roadside were bright orange ears of corn and peanuts drying in the sun, as well as metal racks full of bright red sticks of incense. (So this must be where they make it!) There were also several pineapple farms where we stopped for a refreshing snack by the side of the road, but once in the heart of the mountains we were largely alone on the road. The views were stunning – Mist clad mountains covered in thick jungle rolled over one another in the distance, and we passed many waterfalls revealing themselves at bends in the road.

Clouds on the Horizon

The sky began to cloud over and we pulled over to change into rain gear. At first it seemed like a light shower might fall and that we could ride through it to the sunshine on the other side. We were not prepared for the epic deluge that followed. It poured down rain in buckets. We were drenched in seconds, despite our rain jackets. It was coming down so hard that I could hardly see to lead the way, but there was nowhere along the road to stop and seek cover from the storm. We hadn’t passed a village in a long while and had nowhere to turn back to, so we continued on.

Finally, the rain started to let up. It settled into a light drizzle just as we rode into a small village. The local children were running through the streets laughing and screaming, shampoo lathered thickly into their hair making them look like little naked fairies with shock-white, wild hair. We discussed stopping and wringing out our things, but decided that since rain was still falling and there was nowhere to stay here we might as well keep going. Of course, several kilometers down the road the weather lashed out again, dumping another deluge.

David dumping water from his boots

After a short while I checked behind me and realized David had disappeared, so I turned around and headed back. He was sitting on his bike, desperately trying to kickstart the thing, but it just wouldn’t catch. Since we didn’t know if there was anything ahead, we decided to turn around and go back. There had been a gas station on the edge of the small town with cover from the rain. I rode ahead a little ways, parked, then ran back to see if I could help him push. It was slow going, and the weather wasn’t giving us any breaks.

A man in a poncho pulled over to see if we needed help. He moved his bike over to David’s right hand side and motioned at us. Not sure what the man was trying to convey, David started pushing the bike again. The man stuck out his left foot (with its patent leather shoe), got purchase on David’s license plate, and began to drive using his foot and the power of his engine to push the dead bike. Soon, David had to jog to keep up, so they stopped and he hopped on the bike. I followed close behind to make sure they were both ok.

The kindness of people continues to amaze me every time I encounter it. We were much farther from town than I had realized. They rode like that the whole way to the gas station, stopping once or twice to re-situate. It was certainly not easy for either of them. We were riding up and down hills, and navigating sharp turns. I don’t think I would have trusted myself to ride so close to another bike, especially in contact with it, for fear of injuring us both. I would never have even thought of it! But he acted like it was old hat.

When we finally made it to the station, all the guys there started prodding the bike trying to figure out what was wrong. Apparently some water had splashed up into a few parts, and they shook it out and dried it as best they could, and…Voila! The bike started right back up. It was still raining and the man who had helped us kept saying ‘hotel’ and pointing back the way we had originally come. He was trying to determine where we were going, and he was convinced that we were heading to the coast to Da Nang. I mean, there’s nothing in the mountains, so what would westerners be doing there? Try as we might to explain that we were heading the other way, he didn’t seem to get it. We couldn’t use our phones for translation either, because everything was so wet. We finally gave up and nodded our ascent to follow him to a hotel, wherever it might be. We were exhausted and weary, and wanted nothing more than a dry bed to tuck into, so we geared up and followed him back out into the rain.

We retraced our steps, returning over 40km in the ‘wrong’ direction, all through the pouring rain. We had no idea it would be so far, or we may not have agreed to follow him. But what other options did we have? We finally made it back to the town of My Thanh. He stopped at a Nha Nghi and went inside to talk to the owner on our behalf. He came out, shook our hands and smiled at us for the millionth time that day (we didn’t know how else to express our thanks!) and promptly left us. We never even got his name.

The hotel owner waved us in and we trudged upstairs to lay our things out to dry and take a hot shower. When we left the hotel in search of food we were accosted by a group of old men next door, one of which was the hotel owner. They were smoking what looked like a bong, called a điếu cày. We knew from a friend who had traveled through Vietnam a few years ago that it was just very strong pipe tobacco, and we sat to join them. They seemed impressed and laughed loudly when we each took a hit and didn’t hack up a lung (Thanks, Aaron!). They brought out homemade rice whisky in an old 16oz water bottle, and we had broken conversation over shots and dried muc (squid) and a salad of duck organs. Sounds weird, but it was amazing.

I got a bit toasted, so we left to grab food and returned to the group with a snack to share. It wasn’t long before a younger man pulled up and crashed the party. He was obviously very drunk and spoke excitedly to us in loud Vietnamese, plopped down on a stool, grabbed my face and kissed me full on the mouth. David and I laughed uneasily to try to make light of it, and he playfully dragged my chair toward his own. The guy was still talking and the other men started to get very upset and made pacifying gestures towards us, even though we couldn’t actually understand anything he was saying. Our host finally stood up and yelled at him, and the drunk quieted for a bit, but not for long. I did not want to put up with someone talking lewdly about us when I couldn’t understand, defend, or make jokes about it myself, so I excused us before I could get pissed off. I stood up abruptly, shook hands and thanked everyone else at the table, pointedly ignoring the drunkard’s outstretched arm. A bit of a damper on an otherwise entertaining evening.

In the morning we were dry, packed, and much revived. We headed into the mountains yet again, retracing yesterday’s steps. We passed through a town where I distinctly smelled a spicy cinnamon odor. I turned around and pulled over, and sure enough there were people cutting down trees and peeling the bark. Cinnamon trees! I inhaled deeply and wanted so badly to talk to someone about it, but I was feeling shy and conversations are difficult outside the cities. They require a lot of google translate pauses. We rode on and saw rolls of cinnamon bark drying by the side of the road. David finally pulled over to ask if we could buy a roll. It was an entertaining process, trying to communicate as I also attempted asking how to use the bark or how to grind it. We left with two large scrolls of fresh cinnamon bark and I with a very happy grin on my face.

We had prepped for rain again, and sure enough there was another downpour. We suffered through it, stopping with another rider in a tunnel through a mountain to warm up for a bit. We rode through a beautiful valley as the rain stopped, and even caught sight of a double rainbow. We finally pulled into A Luoi, a town with some hotels (and surprisingly a hip jelly tea shop called ‘Homies’), in the early evening.

‘Why must you take photos of absolutely everything?’

We checked the contents of our bags for water damage. Everything was damp, despite the rain covers. David had put his entire backpack in a garbage bag to protect it, and his things weren’t so bad. Mine was all wet and covered in splashes of mud and what I’m pretty sure was cow shit. I spent the better part of that evening disassembling my bag and washing it as best I could. The air conditioning was broken in the room as well, so our things couldn’t fully dry overnight. I ended up putting my damp bag back together, lining it with a plastic bag to keep my things dry, then putting the whole bag in another bag to protect it from getting covered in shit again. Jeeze.

Phong Nha

The scenery was getting more and more beautiful as we neared the famous Phong Nha Ke Bang National Park. We stopped for lunch and a hike at the botanical garden, taking the long way around to the waterfall. I was a bit disappointed by the ‘garden’ as I was hoping to learn the names of a few of the local plants, but there was no written guide and it was really just the scientific names of trees posted on wooden signs. Like I’m going to remember those. But it was a good trek and still very enjoyable. The waterfall was beautiful, and David and I stripped to our skivies to take a dip until we started getting nibbled on by some unknown creatures under water.

WTF?

Gio Waterfall, Phong Nha

Phong Nha is a very small town, but it was perfect for us. Touristy enough to be able to communicate and have a variety of food and drinks available (including piña coladas 😉), but small and rural enough to not be obnoxious or overbearing. By which I mean we were not constantly hounded by hawkers or seeing more tourists than locals. We checked into the Rose Hotel and after the first day decided that we liked the area so much that we would stay for a couple of days. We treated ourselves to some drinks and even a plate of touristy and rather mediocre nachos. We also happened upon an eco friendly restaurant, where I picked up present for myself! I have been trying to order drinks without a straw during this entire trip to reduce the trash impact. I about freaked when the girl at Bamboo Cafe brought my smoothie out with a reusable bamboo straw! I asked if I could buy it, and she gave it to me for 10,000d ($0.50). I’ll treasure it forever – best souvenir by far!

We decided to only visit one of the local famous caves since they are kind of pricey and neither of us are big cave people (😂). Based on online searches, we decided on Paradise Cave. It was unique and beautiful, and the cave seems like it just goes on forever. Neat, but I just don’t get that excited about caves. What we were mostly excited about in the area was all of the pristine rock karsts that are just begging to be climbed. Maybe someday climbing will be developed in the area… It is certainly a hidden paradise.

Local Hospitality

After leaving Phong Nha, we stopped in the small town of Pho Chau for two days as David was not feeling well. I finally got my cracked phone screen replaced for 350,000d and found a post office to buy stamps (which were WAY cheaper than what the lady selling me the postcards tried to get out of me). From there we made it to Lam Son, where we turned off of the main road heading towards Ninh Binh. We planned on staying in the town, but it felt dirty and crowded, so we moved on – hoping we could find something else along the way.

We finally happened upon a place called Motel Ngoc Anh. It was just outside of a small village and was set in front of an orange grove. The rooms were clean and the area quiet and beautiful. We walked through the small village, and our presence as foreigners was a novelty. We ate at the only restaurant in town for dinner, where we had some amazing squid and were invited to share shots of rice wine with the neighboring table.

In the morning we packed up to leave and were cruising through town for a place to eat breakfast. We passed a building with many motorbikes out front, and since the town only had one official restaurant, I figured this might be the morning hang out spot. We tentatively walked up and I made gestures, trying to ask if it was a restaurant. David was unsure and thought it might be someone’s private home. Turns out he was right.

The woman washing dishes shook her head at me, smiling shyly and in confusion. A middle aged man walked out towards us with his arms outstretched. He had a big grin on his face and beckoned us in to join the party. We were still unsure, just intending on finding some food and hitting the road, but we glanced at each other with a shrug and headed in. He invited us to his table and asked that we share the meal with them instead of going elsewhere. The place was packed with people chatting and eating. We were, of course, a novelty item.

Everyone wanted to come shake our hands and say hello in English, proud of the chance to show their knowledge of the word. They were thrilled at our broken Vietnamese. We snacked on the many dishes placed before us, then the shots started coming. They passed glasses around and tried to fill ours up again and again. We managed to convince them to give us half shots or we refused to finish the drink. It is very rude to do this, but we tried to explain that we were not staying in the area and they accepted it, but continued to give us half shots until they themselves were through. We did have to drive after all, and have you seen how people drive in Vietnam?

Shot after shot, we laughed and conversed as much as we could with limited language abilities on both sides. Finally, we extracted ourselves from the party, thanked our host profusely, and headed on to the next town. Feeling just a bit more relaxed and light hearted than usual.