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Published: February 14th 2007
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Way, Way Up.
Stunning but treacherous. You can see the road I travelled cut through the yellow rock. I awoke early again, keen to kick off. I'd had a good nights sleep in the hotel, which had the distiction of having the only lift in all of Son la. It even had instructions taped to the door. Planning to leave early, I just had to find the ATM I saw yesterday. My card turned out not to work. No problem I thought, I'll just try the bank. No luck.
Oh No. Was there any ATM in Northwestern Vietnam? I was beginning to panic, as I was seriously runnin low on cash. Anymore big repairs and I'd be out. I tried to set up a Western Union money transfer over the internet, but it was no use. I was becoming very stressed, and I was resolving myself to contacting my friend back in the UK to see if he could set up a transfer (Hi Fred). Running out of ideas, I googled "ATM Northwestern Vietnam" and was directed to the Visa website. It told me there was an ATM in Dien Bien Phu. Ph(e)u! It looked like that was the only one!
So, as usual two hours late I headed up out of Son La. I immediately noticed
Dusty Boy
My feet at the cafe at the top of the mountains the difference. Single track and very bumpy, it wound it's way steeply up into the hills. Minsk territory (although the vast majority of bikes out here are the little Hondas, so more correctly Honda territory). The road also curved and bended steeply, with large drops down the side in the valleys. However, again and again I was struck dumb by the beauty. My jaw was actualy dropping. The weather was perfect, balmy and spring-like, and once again I was heading for the unknown.
As we went higher and higher the road got worse and worse. There was less and less tarmac until it was dirt covered in dust. Lot of dust. At times it blew across the road, and I began to dread the approach of a 4WD or bus. Visibility was reduced to a few meters. The dust collected in seas up to a foot deep. The bike took it all in its stride, but I was nervously missing gears and intensively concentrating on the track in front of my bike.
Every so often, I would chance a glance to the side. I had wound my way up higher and higher, and was crossing the mountain range.
More View
Beyond words. The road was still under construction, and I marvelled at the effort it must take getting the machinery to do it up here. However, I couldn't risk taking many photos. Breaking down all the way up here didn't bear thinking about. And the 900 meter drop off the side kept me focused on getting through this.
At one point the road parted. Should I take dirtrack 1 or dirtrack 2. I made my choice, following some bikes down a well-over 10% incline. This is crazy I thought, how can this be the road. Eventually I stopped to ask if this was the road to Dien Bien Phu. He ponted back the way I came. Uh oh. I'm lost. Thankfully a chap on a Honda directed me to follow him. I was extremely grateful, and I felt rather bad to have to refuse his request for my Ipod.
I finally reached the top of the mountains, and there was a cafe. Thank God, a seat, some water, and a chance to chill out. What a ride, but I was glad it was over. Asking around I had only another two hours to Dien.
The road improved after this,
Rush Hour
At about 4pm all the waterbuffalo are lead back home. It's less rushhour and more ambletime. and the ride was perfect. Smooth(ish) tarmac, winding up and down the valley walls, through villages and paddies. I'll be hard pressed to experience again the feeling I had as The Charletans "One to another" blasted out of my Ipod, I opened the throttle out of a curve, the sun was perfect as I chased my shadow through the mountains, the Old Buffalo was showing what it could do and I let out a whoop of pure joy.
It was fine to see more an country life as I wound my way through. I was seeing more Hmong people, and I wondered at the development of their brightly coloured knitted clothing. They looked amazing, and I was happy to be seeing this with my own eyes. The Hmong were familiar to me from pictures, but this was reality, and I was passing through it. Fantastic.
The sun was setting, and Sigor Ros seemed perfect for the setting. I was keen to get to Dien Bien Phu. As I passed down a hillside, I had a little spill. The ground gave way to dust, and my front wheel started to make its own path to a bump at the
The OB
Both of us were covered on dust, dirt and oil, we looked like proper easyriders now. This is too much fun. side of the road. The bike went down under me. Damn. A cracked headlight (and a graze on my leg) was the only damage. However, a reminder to take it easy. This is the most dangerous time to ride, near the end, tired and you can't help but relax a bit.
Thankfully, after a few tries the engine kicked over, and soon I was in Dien Bien Phu. Again, the internet found me a hotel. Now for the ATM. I was worried when all I could see was Agribank, not Visa. I was hungry, tired, and stressed (and it didn't help to have stepped in a pool of blood from a recent motorbike accident). After asking lots of motoriders for an ATM, and getting only "Agribank" in reply, I fell into a depression as I walked back to the hotel. Damm, how will I find a phone, what if Fred can't help, Damn, Damn, Damn.
Just then, a bloke poppd up and asked if I needed an ATM. He spoke english, and turned out to be a guide for the treks in the area. He had spoken to some of the mototaxi giys I had tried to get
to help earlier. Hardly daring to hope, I pleaded with him to wait as I grabbed my bike. We headed into town again, he showed me the Visa ATM, I put in my card and, Yes!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! I'm in business again. I gave him a fair whack of money to say thank you, but I didn't mind. It was worth it.
I finally got myself clean, and out of my dust covered clothes. I was ecstatic that things had turned out ok. As I sat down at the restraunt, I was waved over by the hotel staff. They asked me to join them, as they were having a meal for one of their number who was off down south to visit her family for Tet. Only one spoke english, but I had a grand old time. There were many, many rice wine toasts and loads of great food. I was able to put the bottle of whiskey I was carryng around with me to good use in return. I was again touched by the hospitality of the people of Vietnam, the smiles and laughter.
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Noreen
non-member comment
Long time no see!
Sam guided me to this site. happy to see you are in good form, your poor mum must follow you with baited breath!Enjoy reading of your movements during my lunch hour.