Epic Vietnam Journey (Day 12-Phong Nha-Ha Binh)

I wake up and immediately take my bike to the mechanic and then take a boat to the caverns.  Because the tour place rents by the boat (and not by person), I hook up with a Vietnamese group, so that we can split the cost.  They adopt me and take me in as their own.  One Vietnamese woman is kind of the leader of the group and she speaks some English, so I can actually converse with her without having to do the whole nodding and smiling thing.  Another older Vietnamese woman is actually from Australia, but was born in Cambodia, and is somehow related to the first Vietnamese woman.  We converse quite a bit, and talk about everything from Australia to lady boys in Thailand.  At times, we had each other laughing in stitches.  The caverns were beautiful, but unfortunately, my camera is not that good, and could not capture their beauty in the low light.

After coming back from the caverns, I go get my motorbike from the mechanic who installed a new chain on it and a used back tire (as the one that was on there prior was completely bald and was about to explode according to the mechanic).  It cost 400,000 VDN (20 bucks), and with the cost of the tour and the hotel, I only had about 60,000 VDN left.  Not much, but I figured there was an ATM somewhere around.  I was so wrong.  

I take off and ponder the Vietnamese’ reactions to me during my stay.  I thought there would be more Westerners there, but, other than me, there were none.  Seems like a got a lot more attention than normal, I don’t think it was all positive attention.  It wasn’t like they were anti-American—more like they were constantly laughing and snickering behind my back, and sometimes in front of my back.  I kept asking “why are you laughing?”  Of course, they had no idea what I was saying.  It was like they got a kick out of poking the lion in the cage.  It got to be kind of annoying, and was looking forward to moving on.  I get about 10 km out of town before I realized that I left my rain jacket back at the mechanic’s place.  I debate whether to go back, because I’ve had a late start (about 2pm) and need to get to my destination before nightfall as I have no headlights.  However, I finally decide to go back, because it is an expensive jacket and I really like its versatility.  So, I go back for some more ridiculing, grab my jacket from the mechanic, and take off again. 

About an hour into my trip, it starts sprinkling, so I stop and put on my jacket.  Within 5 minutes, I was going through a torrential downpour, which was a bit dangerous as I couldn’t see a damned thing, and I was going down a windy mountain road.  I decide to shield my face with my left hand from the rain, while throttling the accelerator with my right hand to alternately speed up and slow down as I was going in and out of the curves.  After about a half-hour, the torrential rain turned into a nice steady downpour.  At this point, I was actually getting a bit cold accompanied by body shivers and chattering teeth.  Despite me wearing a rain coat, which resists water but is not meant for swimming, I was soaking wet, which accompanied by a nice 30-40km/hr breeze, made it a bit chilly.  Ironically, the only relief I got was when I would go through puddles (and there were many), which splashed warm Jacuzzi-like water up from the road onto my feet and lower legs.

I’m supposed to cut over from the HCM trail on a westward road that was supposed to be about 100km away from Phong Nha.  However, I did not find this road, so I kept going.  Eventually, I start running low on gas, but can find no gas station, and haven’t seen one since I left Phong Nha.  I’m thinking how the hell do people get gas up here.  Eventually, I pass a shack that seemed to have a sign for gas, but didn’t have a gas pump.  I turn around out of desperation, and there are a few children playing in the sand next to the shack.  I see what I can only describe as a gravity-fed container full of a liquid that I believe is gas.  I ask one boy if that is “petro,” and he says “yes,” so I have him fill it up as much as possible.  He drains the container, and although it does not completely fill my tank, it is enough to get me a few more kilometers.  I take off, but not before I snap a few pictures of the children, after which I would show them pictures of themselves.  They seemed to get a big kick out of it, and I was glad to make their day.

But my feel good attitude soon turned to concern.  My gas gauge immediately starts coming down from full, so there was not as much gas in the tank as I thought.  I start running low on gas again, but at this point, I am kind of out of the mountains, and I find an actual gas station.  I only had 35,000VDN left, and I tell the gas attendant to put 30,000VDN in the tank, leaving me with 5000VDN (literally, 25 cents).  I asked the gas attendant if there was an ATM around.  He did not understand me at all.  Now, ATM, is a universal acronym.  In Vietnamese, ATM is ATM.  So I was like, holy shit, there is probably not a bank within 100 km of this place if this guy has never heard of an ATM. 

This is why I have been nervous about going inland in Vietnam, because there are not a lot of resources if something goes wrong.  There was no room for error, and I had three errors--not much gas, a quarter to my name (as my credit/debit cards were absolutely useless here), and no head lights (less than an hour before nightfall).  I was getting a feeling that these errors were going to converge into a big cluster-fuck.  Worst case, I would sleep in the forest.  However, although I had enough mosquito repellant, I was soaking wet and there were no signs that the rain would let up.  Not a real good option.  But hell, if I somehow could find shelter, and had my computer with me with 10 hours of battery life, I could knock out some billable time.

Eventually, I get to a cross-road that has a sign that I can’t quite make out, but looks like it has a “15,” which I recognize as a route number that leads to Ha Binh—a city 50km south of Vinh.  Now I was attempting to get to Vinh, but figured there was no way I would make it there before nightfall.  I knew Ha Binh was somewhat of a large city and would have all the gas and money I needed.  After asking some questions, I confirm that the cross-road did, indeed, lead to Ha Binh.

I notice along the way that it was about 30km to Ha Binh, and figured if I kept up a good pace, I would make it there before nightfall, assuming that I did not get lost.  However, the road conditions were absolutely horrible.  It was actually a dirt road, which was odd, since the map seemed to indicate that it was a major highway.  With the deluge of rain, the dirt road turned into a sloppy mess.  I could only average about 20km/hour, which was actually faster than what was safe to drive, given the road conditions.  At one point, my front wheel slid out from underneath me, and I hit an embankment with the front ferring.  It made a horrible noise, but I soldiered on through the mud and muck.  It was probably like this for about 15km.  It would have been fun if I were not so concerned about everything else.  

There are actually other riders on this trail, and I spot a guy who had “Ha Tinh” on the back of his shirt, so I try to follow him as much as possible, and I negotiate various forks in the road.  Eventually, I lose him and have to ask directions several times at various forks and intersections in the road.  It’s frustrating, because the road looks so straight on the map.  After awhile, I pop out onto the 1 Highway to my relief, ask a few questions, and learn that Ha Tinh is 10km south.  I hate backtracking, but Vinh is 50km north, and it’s almost night time, so I decide to head south to Ha Tinh.  A few kilometers down the road, I find an ATM and get an infusion of cash, find a gas station and fill up the tank, and then head for a hotel.  I’m feeling good.  I go the first hotel, and apparently they are full.  I go to a second hotel, and they full.  I keep encountering full hotels.  Apparently, there is something going on in the city.

Eventually, I get to the edge of the city limits, and find this hotel that seems to have room available.  Now, I’ve never had a problem like this before, and certainly never had a problem communicating to the hotel reception person that I need a hotel room.  Kind of obvious that when someone walks into a hotel, they need a room to say.  So, I stand at the reception desk for 10 minutes trying to explain to these people that I need a hotel room.  They look at me like they don’t understand.  I’m absolutely bewildered.  Then they call an English-speaking person, and I end up talking to her, explaining that I am one person who needs a hotel room for one night.  They finally got it.  Jesus.

After checking in, I go out to eat, and find this family restaurant.  It was kind of the same deal as in Phong Nha.  I went to the kitchen to see what they were cooking, and pointed to all of the things that I liked.  It was a good meal, all for 30,000VDN (buck and a half).  Not bad. 

I go up to my room, watch a little television, and do a little work.  With the exception of the restaurant people, I kind of get the same treatment in this town that I got in Phong Nha--a lot of laughing and snickering.  I’m thinking WTF is wrong with these people?  I didn’t encounter any of this south of the DMZ or in Hanoi.

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