Vietnam - home of 83 million Asian Drivers


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Asia » Vietnam » North Central Coast » Thua Thien - Huế » Hué
February 14th 2006
Published: March 3rd 2006
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Well on our travels we have utilized many forms of transport; speed boat, slow boat, sampan, bamboo raft, kayak, Chinese junk, elephant, night train, bus, minibus, car, tuk-tuks of all shapes & sizes, moto (motor bike or xe-om), the tray of utes, bicycle shanks pony and the inner tubes of tires. In the process we have got to experience the different driving styles in the different countries. Of all the places we’ve visited to date, none compare to the madness of traffic in Vietnam. Negotiating this traffic is so integral to our tour that I can’t really continue without it.

We’ve all made or heard the comments about Asian drivers back home - how they swerve into your lane without looking, stop in the middle of the road, bumper park etc etc - but have you ever actually thought that they might be the good drivers & us the bad ones? Okay, Okay, that might be a leap too far for many of you - but after getting my head around the driving here it does shed a different light on the drivers back home. Let me explain:

Vietnam, a country of 332,000 square kilometers has 83 million people. That’s million people! Hanoi, the capital has about 4 million, while HCMC (aka Saigon - the old capital) has about 8 million. In each case there are nearly as many motorbikes in the city as people. Imagine traveling through a city with four million bikes!

While HCMC is larger, it has much wider streets - and yes even footpaths. Hanoi by comparison, especially near the tourist area of the old corner has tiny streets. More often than not in Hanoi, where there is a footpath it is taken up by items from the shop behind it - no, not just a table showing a few wares - pretty much the whole shop. Where there is any space left over, it is taken up with peasant women. These are the hardest workers we’ve seen, always slim & strong, these woman can be identified by their darker skin (from being in the sun - in Asia - lighter skin shows wealth) traditional long sleeved peasant clothes - looking much like pyjamas - and conical hats. These women walk in from the fields & their homes with huge baskets on their heads or large wooden poles on their shoulders, with heaving baskets hanging on each side. They sell a variety of goods. Fruit like bananas and pineapple, bread (1 baguette costs 1,000 Dong - about 10 NZ cents), bottled water & anything else they think they can sell. While many chose a ’possie’ on the pavement & sit there all day with bikes & cars whooshing by other stroll the streets and are very good at ‘hitting-up’ tourists.

In fact everyone in Vietnam - and Cambodia is great at ‘hitting-up’ tourists. Even more so than Thailand (although we gather that the Thai beaches are bad) and much more so than in the laid back Lao. You cannot walk out of your hotel with out being descended upon by a crowd:
“Excuse me, you want moto?”
“You want bike?”
“You want tuk-tuk?”
“You want water? Very cold”
“Excuse me Lady, you want dinner? Excuse me Lady, Excuse me Lady, come here, very nice!
“Where you from? (If you are stupid enough to answer they then tell you that their mother’s, aunts, cousins, brother may have been there once - or perhaps heard of it - and it was very beautiful. If they know something about the country they’ll say that too - Australia gets ‘gidday mate’, Ireland: ”Ireland is a very small Island”, and once or twice we’ve had “Kia Ora”. But its best not to answer because as soon as you start they have you & it will take 10 minutes of hard talking & the parting of way with much Dong or Reil before they let you go. After your first 100 approaches this starts to wear a bit thin and you start to get a bit cynical. One trick we found to confuse them was to name somewhere they don’t know. Both the Cook Islands & Samoa worked a treat - it shut them up & let us get on our way. India didn’t work quite as well - as the sharp-witted person correctly pointed out to Brendon - Hey, you not dark, you white! You not Indian.”

If you’re trying to exit a tour bus it’s worse again. Literally you are mobbed as you hop off. For us poor timid kiwis, being yelled at by 200 people at once, all trying to grab us or our bags to go with them, this is not conducive to good temper or warm feelings. Normally we say no to everything (even if we actually wanted it) & run for cover as quickly as possible.

So imagine, as you run away from this mind-numbing cacophony you are running onto the middle of a very busy (without fail - as they all are) road. SO you must be very clear about how the traffic works. To remind you again, you’re in a city with over 3 million motorbikes. Motor bikes travel 5 plus to a lane - although as they travel so closely, it’s more like 10 to a lane & they keep on coming. And all the drivers are Asian! Here are some road rules for Vietnam:
1) They drive on the Right side of the road, but as anyone will drive anywhere - the wrong way including up one-way streets - always look left too - there will generally be traffic.
2) Red does not mean stop. It means: you know that steady stream of traffic coming the other way (through another red light)? Well its about to become a flood. SO you better speed up, & beep your horn really loud so that they know you’re coming through.
3) Don’t ever, EVER stop. If a 10 motorbikes, 2 tuk tuks and a truck are bearing down on you, keep going. If you stop, you’ll throw them out & that will be the last mistake you ever make.
4) Why fit one person on a bike? What a waste! While its very ‘in’ for a man to take his girl on a bike (all the tour guides bemoaned that they needed a motorbike to get a girlfriend) in this city undergoing a youth revolution - much like the 60s for us Westerners - it was common to see mum & three kids; mum & dad and 3 kids; 2 riders and a 12 foot metal pole; a driver, a tourist, the tourist’s pack & day bag, 200 chickens still alive all tied by their feet (I kid you not!), hundreds of cane baskets, 2 dead pigs etc etc.
5) Don’t be polite, just keep going. If you want to cross directly across 4 lanes of traffic (and they do, all the time)(, just go for it! Its unlikely you’ll crash.

So how did we get on? Well we’re read the Lonely Planet (LP) tips - and received some from both Hugh & my brother David (thanks guys) - they pretty much said, go for it & keep walking. The LP also said to remember that size does matter and to give way to anything bigger than you. As a pedestrian everything is bigger than you. So how does that work? Well, as someone who was always very confident crossing busy streets, this was a challenge even for me. Rachael Q - don’t even think about it! After our first crossing I was terrified. I was too scared to take my feet off the (side of the) sidewalk. Its one thing to say ‘keep going no matter what’- but you try it! Needless to say I was very nearly hit early on as I paused in terror on the way across. You could tell tourists who’d been there (in Nam) for a while - as they managed to look cool, calm and collected as they sauntered across the road. Oh I was so jealous!

After a while - through both observation of locals and experience - I figured what the two apparently paradoxical instructions from the LP meant:
1) Check carefully before you cross. If there is something big coming don’t cross. Wait for a ‘break’. While not a break like you’d experience back home, wait until there are no trucks or buses and slightly fewer motor bikes.
2) When crossing, keep going. Don’t stop. Ever. Do, however keep an eye out & be prepared to ‘dodge’.

On our first full day in Hanoi we caught a car taxi to the Museum of Ethnology. When we were ready to leave (at about 5pm) we went outside to find no car taxis. This was about 7km from where we were staying, so walking back through the traffic, exhausted as we were, was not an option. We walked & looked, and walked and looked, all the while being bothered by incessant moto men: ”you want moto?’’, “Where you go?”, “very cheap” etc. We finally had to give in, and despite my misgivings hopped on. You need to understand that while helmets are compulsory in Vietnam, they are only compulsory on national highways (where the 30 daily motorbike deaths occur). In cities it appears that it is just about compulsory to not wear a helmet. We never had any choice - if we went by moto, there was no helmet. Sorry mum & dad. SO here was Claire, rather nervous, hopping on the back of a motorbike with some strange Vietnamese man. Having never ridden on a motorbike before (I don’t thank that sitting on one in Rarotonga when I was four counts) I was terrified. Before I had time to panic, the guy started up, performed a sharp u-turn through two lanes of traffic (so about 20 lanes of motorbike riders) and was off, leaving Brendon somewhere behind. Its times like this that you realize you have no idea of where you are going, cannot speak the language & could get in serious trouble if the guy had nefarious deeds in mind. Luckily my one was fine & after a few minutes I saw Brendon and his driver winding their way towards us.

It was also at about that time when I realised that I should never drive a motorbike myself in Vietnam. I had, you see, a very bad habit of closing my eyes tightly every time it looked like we were going to crash. As this happened quite often I decided that for everyone’s best interest I should be a passenger. After a while I relaxed enough to look around me & saw that the girls weren’t all grasping onto their drivers for dear life. Some only held on with one hand! Well if they could do it, so could I. Although, as rush-hour in Hanoi (which we had entered) was quite a busy time, I always held on tightly again through intersections - as while I had relaxed a bit driving through a wall of moving traffic was still not my idea of a good time. By then end I had even started to enjoy myself. The freedom was great & I could use my scarf (which I needed as Hanoi was cold) as a face mask - just like the local girls. As we hopped off, Brendon & I were pumping with adrenaline & couldn’t wait until our next ride.

The next ride was in Hue. We arrived from the overnight train at about 9am. After walking to our guesthouse & showering we heading out for breakfast & then off to “Café on Thu wheels”. A highly recommended tour guide - thanks Hugh & the LP. Thu is the owner & she runs the café, bar & tour group with her many (it was 7 or 10!) brothers. When they found we were from NZ, they showed us an article from a NZ (Nelson?) paper, expounding the benefits of their tour service (all on motorbikes - hence the pun in the name). It was a really fun tour. We set off with Sinead & Michael (friends from Dublin) for a tour made lovelier by the fact it was on the back of the motorbike. Riding on a dyke through the paddy fields was amazing. Minh, one of Thu’s brothers had good English, but like all Asian tour guides, while he was fluent, we could barely understand him (& vice versa) due to his accent. He cracked many jokes many times (You don’t go in that temple, you save money,. No Money, No Honey. You have money, you have honey.”), but (again like most Asian guides) didn’t provide as much information as we wanted. Highlights were visiting Thu Doc’s tomb - Brendon now wants a hundred concubines himself! - and the citadel. That night we had a romantic dinner in a French restaurant - as it was Valentines after all (as all the touts with roses kept reminding us) - followed by a stroll along the carnival-like river front.

Before I sign off & we go to enjoy our next fresh fruit shake, an update on crossing the road:

But first, while in Café on Thu wheels I read a guide for handling traffic in Vietnam. Amongst the many hilarious (but accurate tips) was the following - and it was so true:
Don’t go near anyone on a motorbike who’s wearing a helmet. Either they’re a foreigner or they don’t think that motorbiking in Vietnam is safe. Either way, they’re unsafe. Steer Clear.

You’ll be pleased to know that by the time we reached Saigon (yes I am behind in this diary - too much time touring & not enough ‘rest days’ - but do hope to add more soon) we were pros at crossing Vietnamese streets. It was nice to look at the ‘new’ tourists & know that we could now cross like locals.

Love to all

Claire




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