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Day 17
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Hanoi → Ha Giang
Six hours on a wild bus
I was awake at 4:00 AM as I could sleep no more (8 hours- not bad). Anxiety or nervous anticipation of what happens next. Dressed at 5:20 AM. Lights on at 5:30 AM, awakening Lauren.
We went downstairs at 6:00 AM but the kitchen was dark and the staff had not yet arrived. So I set out on foot to find some Banh Mi Op La (egg sandwiches). I found one of the few places that was open, but alas, they were out of eggs. Of course, this conversation took place on Google Translate. No breakfast today.
I nearly got back to the hotel at 6:20 AM and a man met me on the stairs asking, “Don Bain, Ha Giang?” He was the runner for the 6:30 AM scheduled luxury bus to Ha Giang. Once again, it was early and once again, we were the first to board. Again, being first means pick of seats and best observation of drama.
It is a 6 hour, 300 kilometer, very wild ride to Ha Giang. Our driver was not Captain Kidd of our airport pickup derby, but he could have been his brother.
Before Hanoi wakes up
Hanoi was just waking up and traffic was not yet congested. Our driver was a madman speeding through Hanoi’s Old Quarter barely dodging delivery vehicles and careening around corners. About every block or so, the bus would screech to a stop and his henchman, er helper/runner, would jump out to move barricades or parked motorbikes or boxes or whatever was in the way so the bus could pass with a few millimeters to spare.
Lauren and I second-guessed our choice of the two seats immediately behind the driver as we could clearly see the danger through the windshield. It might have been better not to have a front-row version of Super Mario.
Finally, we reached the motorway and we transitioned from slalom to high-speed downhill racing.
While the driving startled me, I had to admire the entrepreneurialism of this driver and his runner/helper. He had a series of destination signs printed in large font on foam-core that he would periodically replace to advertise the coming waypoints and final destination of Ha Giang.
Anytime he saw a gathering of people on the side of the road he would slam on the brakes, stop, cycle through the signs, and shout where we were headed, looking for someone to be interested. Most often, there were bunches of women gathered on the side of the highway. I do not understand the system or what they were doing – perhaps waiting for transportation to other destinations.
He picked up a passenger or two using this method, they boarded, and departed prior to our destination of Ha Giang. He also picked up packages at various places and dropped them at various waypoints. Vietnam is like that: industrious, entrepreneurial, and with many microeconomies enabled by mobile phones.
At 9:30 AM we stopped at one of those concrete plaza bus stops for a rest break. The transformation of driver from bat outta hell madman when driving to laid back guy smoking cigarettes when on break was amazing.
Bus stops adventures
We were starving. Meals were not being served. But I found my way to the kitchen, a semi-outdoor appendage to the building. A fire was going and they had a pot of broth cooking. The young man I found was agreeable and I purchased a steaming bowl of Pho Bo (beef soup) for 50,000 Dong. It was very plain, but boy did it hit the spot.
I took advantage of the primitive restroom for 3,000 Vietnamese Dong.
Then it was back on the bus, away we go, hi ho Silver.
After an hour or so of driving, we entered into the mountains. The air got chilly and the sky became overcast. It was very beautiful. The scenery was amazing.
We saw lots of citrus for sale along the highway. They seemed to be green oranges
Sharing the bus with a pig
We approached the city of Ha Giang about 12:50 PM. The driver stopped to let his runner/helper off. We went a few kilometers and the driver stopped again. This time for a pig to be loaded.
But the pig had been freshly butchered and put in a box that was loaded on the floor right next to Lauren. The fresh pork smell was quite strong. Lauren was disturbed. Hey, it is Vietnam.
A few more kilometers passed and we stopped to let off a British couple. Trouble was, the place they were dropped was all locked up. It turned out to be the wrong place. Drama again. After some time and phone calls from the driver, they reboarded the bus to be delivered to the correct location.
This drove my anxiety level (I can’t speak for Lauren) off the scale as I had no idea of our destination. I had to trust that the driver knew where we were going.
Arriving Ha Giang
He did. At 1:20 PM he dropped us, his last passengers (see the pattern here?) off at the Ha Giang Lotus Hostel. It was to be our place to stay and base of operations for the adventure to come. These are nice people. Highly recommend. And thank you Ms. Lien for selecting them for the booking.
They served us Com Ga, chicken and rice, with hot water as our beverage. It was very good.
We settled in and rested for a couple of hours.
We were tested
We were greeted by a young man named Nam. Nam works at the tour company full time. He says he has 2 days off per month. I was not sure of his age, but he was young. He was an ex-military officer with the border guard. He said he likes the work a lot and says it gives him considerable more freedom than the military. Nam was very sharp-dressed and engaging. I could see that he had the bearing of a former military officer.
Nam was quite smitten with Lauren and began a continuous campaign to convert her tour from solo motorcyclist to Easy Rider on the back with Nam as driver. “Don’t you think we make a great couple?” he was ask me repeatedly.
Nam introduced us to our motorcycles, a Honda XR150 for me and a Honda Blade for Lauren. He observed closely how we approached and started the bikes. He took us on an orientation tour of Ha Giang, leading us through the city and into the countryside. While the orientation was enjoyable as a tour feature, I strongly suspect the real purpose was to assess whether we knew what we were doing with motorcycles before setting us loose on the Ha Giang Loop. Having been on the same model motorcycles 11 of the last 15 days, it was clear we knew what we were doing.
Why a guide?
I should stop here and explain that we did the Ho Chi Minh Trail and Road on our own, without any tour or any guide.
Honestly, I tried to hire a guide for the first couple of days, but that simply was not a service available in that remote area. So we tackled that trek on our own.
They say you can ride the Ha Giang Loop on your own. But the Ha Giang Loop has risks: mountains, curves, drop-offs, landslides, traffic, construction, etc. And because of the risks, and perhaps to make good revenue, it has lots of police. I discuss this elsewhere. The point is, I deemed it a smart move to do the Ha Giang Loop with a guide who knows the area, the language, and the hazards.
Back to Ha Giang orientation and Nam. He led us to a small settlement near a waterfall where we parked and hiked to the waterfall. The hike was over some boulders in the stream and on one of the particularly slippery ones, my boot slipped and my foot plunged into the water. Nam was horrified.
Elders are held in high regard in Vietnam. Lauren observed this asking me to step off first when crossing busy streets because the traffic is more likely to give way to a white-haired pedestrian. I suppose Nam thought an elder in his care getting a wet foot was some poor reflection on him. Or perhaps he worried it was reflect poorly on his prospects as a future son-in-law. In any case, the waterfall was lovely.
More Tests
Nam then led up us an insanely steep, narrow road that had 2 foot deep gutters on both sides. The road was full of pedestrians walking to the top. A crew was pushing/pulling a cart to paint a stripe on the road, making for more obstacles to be dodged. Treacherous was the best word for it. Drop in the gutter on a motorcycle and you are going to the hospital. Like a bicycle, riding a motorcycle at below walking speed is difficult, wobbly, and unstable. At one point, I had to stop on one of the hairpin curves to avoid hitting pedestrians. As explained earlier, the XR150 has a tall seat requiring tiptoes when standing still and prone to falling. I didn’t fall, thank goodness, but starting again was a real challenge of slipping the clutch on the steep incline. Locals saw the problem and rushed to help. I presume that would have given me a push to get started. But I gained movement uphill before they reached me. My dignity preserved this time.
Getting to the top brought a wonderful view of the city of Ha Giang and a nice coffeehouse. I bought a round of coffee beverages for Nam and Lauren. Beautiful view. Great coffee. I never had bad or even so-so coffee in Vietnam. Vietnam takes its coffee culture seriously.
The sun was setting and Nam led us back to the hostel. In traffic, the back wheel of my motorcycle locked a couple of times, once while I as turning across oncoming traffic. That kind of problem can get you killed. Happy to have discovered the problem during orientation and before going in the mountains for real, I reported it to Nam. He jumped on the bike and was able to replicate the problem. He assured me it would be fixed. I reflected on the maintenance program at Tigit, upping my respect for those guys.
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