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Hello everyone and welcome to another installment of my ramblings.
Five days on the back of a motorbike and I wasn't killed to death, not even once!
No thanks to the locals though, someone really needs to explain the “duty of care” concept to them. Would Sir care to be smashed on the head by a brick falling from a passing lorry? Or would Sir prefer to be decapitated by a 3 meter piece of steel being carried horizonatly on an approaching bike?
Even though I spent most of the time tutting and rolling my eyes underneath my helmet at the sheer stupidity of some of the drivers, the last five days were without doubt the best five days I have had so far on this trip.
My guide and driver Anh was a legend and we got on very well. He was a true professional behind the wheel, like all good drivers he had the ability to observe and predict problems well before they arose. The tour was really what I needed, I was at a point where I was thinking I was destined to spend the whole year moving from one tourist hotspot to another.
It proved to me once again, that as a foreigner, hiring a guide can be beneficial in so many ways, he introduced me to places, people and food I would have never been able to access on my own.
Our route took us to the Central Highlands from Nha Trang to Lak Lake, Buonmathuoc, Kontum, Khamduc ending in Danang. We saw many mountains and rivers, villages and towns. Sadly my super tough camera has decided to play up, so I can only extract a few of the pictures I managed to take. I think the camera has contracted a virus from one of the many filthy computers I have plugged it in to.
This part of Vietnam surprised me in many ways. I was expecting this route would well trodden by fellow travelers trying to find the real Vietnam but I did not see another Westerner in the whole five days (well apart from the last stop). Everywhere we went I was treated like a minor celebrity, kids wanting to have their picture taken with me, babies being thrust in to my arms with the usual tearful results, people waving and shouting “Hello” as we passed. I started
to feel like the Queen on a visit to the Colonies in the old days, I just needed Prince Philip next to me to say “the Natives are so poor but seem so happy”.
I didn’t expect to be a novelty in Vietnam, Mongolia yes, Pakistan yes, but not Vietnam.
In my last post I rejected the suggestion that the Vietnamese were not friendly, well now I would like to go on record as saying that these people are some of the kindest and most welcoming people I have ever met, you just need to get in to the countryside. However I can understand why some people feel differently, in the big population centers and tourist weary areas there can a different attitude. And the ruthless tourist pricing can jade experiences somewhat, even I have found myself wishing I wasn’t viewed as a walking ATM machine.
Even with all the laughs, smiles and offers of fruit I encountered I am under no illusions, life for many Vietnamese (especially in the rural areas) is unbelievably tough. The work punishing and monotonous, the rewards meager and the isolation stifling. Life seems to getting better, the Government is investing heavily
in infrastructure, hospitals and schools but there are still many who live in very bad conditions. They had Elections here today, I have sneaky feeling I know which Party will win.
I have tried to avoid Orphanages, there is a phrase for this, “Orphanage tourism”. The idea being that rich western tourist sees poverty, rich western tourist feels guilty, rich western tourist visits Orphanage, rich western tourist plays with cute kids, rich western tourist gives a couple of dollars, rich western tourist walks away feeling they have done their bit.
Sorry if this sounds a bit harsh, but the problem with is that the children need more support then half an hour and a couple of dollars. If you do such a thing you need to commit significant efforts.
On the third day I found myself doing all of the above, after waking up late I was on the back of a bike within twenty minutes and before the sleep cleared from my eyes I was there, walking around an Orphanage and feeling pretty uncomfortable.
Shortly after leaving we were stopped by the Police for speeding. This was a real problem for Anh, they fined him
$25 for going 10kmh over the speed limit, which was completely unproportional and only because he had a rich western tourist on the back of the bike. They would never dream of fining a peasant farmer such a high figure.
It didn’t take much to realize that if I was paying him $65 a day, $15 of which goes to his boss, $7 for Gasoline and $20 for accommodation this fine would mean he was effectively working for free. I felt bad as he was rushing because of me oversleeping so later I offered to pay the fine, it was the right thing to do.
Over the five days I transformed in to Vietnamese John, first I bought some genuine Vietnamese clothes from a market, followed by some sunglasses. This combined with the helmet would surely mean I would blend in with the locals. But no, the shouts of “Hello” kept coming. Ahhhh, the beard is giving me away I thought, so I bought a full face mask, but still the “Hello” ambushes came every five minutes.
After we arrived back at Da Nang, Anh invited me to his house for a meal cooked by the wonderful
Mrs Anh. While I am sure I was not the first customer to receive such treatment I was still deeply honored.
Anh’s house was actually a small room in his parents house. He shares this with his wife and daughter (his son died two years ago from a bad heart aged 17, we visited his grave on the route). To get to his room you have to pass through the adjoining room which is lived in by his brother, wife and 4 daughters. In this room they managed to fit a kitchen, a bed and everything else a family needs. The only bathroom and sink was downstairs. The place was pretty crowded.
Next day I was invited to go to church with them, which involved an excruciating 04:30 start (why, for the love of god, so early). This was followed by another invitation for a meal in the evening.
When my offer of a small financial contribution for the endless food and drink was refused, I must admit I left with a tear in my eye. Anh is not a rich man, and to offer me so much was humbling and showed a good heart. I returned
the favour by buying some rice whisky for him, coffee for his wife and sweets for his daughter, this was graciously accepted.
Ok, next stop Laos which I am really looking forward too. I embark upon the punishing 12 hour trip from Hue to Savannakhet tomorrow, but this could end up being a much, much, longer journey.
Legend has it that the Laotians are gloriously laid back. I have heard tales of it taking 3 hours for a bowl of rice to arrive because the Laotians refuse to be rushed, and they believe that all work should have an element of muan (fun). Sounds like my kind of place.
I am looking forward to finding a nice little town and relaxing in to the way of life for a week or so before moving North. Anh gave the confidence to go to unexplored places and eat the strange food (pigeon soup for breakfast anyone?). I fully intend on using this confidence in Lao, I am going to push myself further then ever before, which may involve the use of more motorbikes or hitching.
Well, cheerio and thanks for reading!
I hope all is well with
you.
Love
John
PS Sorry if the pictures continue to be in a random order with few explanations, changing the order and writing text is a painful experience, one I simply cant face.
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