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Vinh to Hue 23 – 27 May 2013

Before we arrived in Vietnam we’d heard mixed reports about it from other travellers we’d met and blogs we’d read.  Some people love it here; others can’t wait to leave.  We’ve tried really hard to keep an open mind and form our own opinions.  I think I’m liking it more than Keith is….but there’ve certainly been moments when I’ve lost my temper with bus and lorry drivers too.

As mentioned in the last blog we crossed from Laos at Na Meo, and then made our way along route 217 to join route 15 at Quan Hoa and then on to the Ho Chi Minh Highway (also route 15) at Ngoc Lac, where we finally found an ATM! This part of the route had felt quite remote.  Towns and villages were small and relatively few and far between.

The main industry, particularly along the mountainous route 217, is chopping bamboo.  Along the roadside men and women were engaged sawing huge bamboo poles into metre lengths, which they then quartered lengthwise and bundled up onto lorries to be taken to a more centralised processing point.  Here the bamboo was split further into slim sticks and bundled up again.  We wondered if this might be the supply source for the millions of disposable bamboo chopsitcks that are used and discarded across China and SE Asia every day.

Bamboo being chopped into metre-ish lengths at the roadside

Bamboo being chopped into metre-ish lengths at the roadside

Bundles of bamboo sticks

Bundles of bamboo sticks

Transporting bamboo downriver

Transporting bamboo downriver

Once out of the mountains and onto route 15 the chopstick industry was replaced by rice harvesting.  Despite being a fairly main highway, the road was often reduced to just half a lane, and sometimes completely blocked with rice, peanuts and rice-stalks (looking like straw or hay) drying in the sun.  The rice and peanuts were usually restricted to the verge, but the rice straw was regularly spread across the entire road and the traffic often had no choice but to run right over it. To be fair there wasn’t really anywhere else to spread it….all the surrounding land is water-logged rice-paddies….but where did they dry the harvest before the road was built?

Rice and rice-stalks spread to dry on the Ho Chi Minh Highway

Rice and rice-stalks spread to dry on route 15

Even in busy town centres the harvest takes priority

Even in busy town centres the harvest takes priority

Scooters’ exhausts were festooned with dried stalks and the smell of baking greenery assaulted the nostrils in the harsh midday sun.  At least the hills here were now just gently rolling and it was getting easier to keep sufficient forward momentum to create a breeze and stop my brains from leaking out of my ears…but progress has remained hampered by frequent stops in the shade to rest and guzzle quenching cold drinks or eat watermelon or the divinely plump lychees on sale at roadside stalls.  I wasn’t sure if I fancied trying salted lemon flavour…but it’s actually delicious and very refreshing.  Keith is craving orange Fanta and is regularly disappointed by the scant selection of drinks offered at most places we stop at.

 

The plumpest, juiciest lychees we've ever had.  We're addicted!

The plumpest, juiciest lychees we’ve ever had. We’re addicted!

We followed route 15 to Tan Ky then route 46 to Vinh and then headed briefly onto route 1 – the main road artery running from Hanoi in the north to Ho Chi Minh City in the south.  We didn’t spend long on route 1 before abandoning our map and heading out on smaller roads with a view to camping on the beach.  Keith loves swimming in the sea and after enjoying many beach camps on our 2011 trip he was really looking forward to a quiet beach camp and a dip in the South China Sea.  Sadly our first beach experience in Vietnam was not quite what he had in mind.  Within moments of stepping onto the beach we were being annoyed by bunch of kids who simply would not keep their hands off the Pino.  Keith did manage to go for a swim and I tried to read quietly in between glaring at our tormentors, but after a couple of hours when the time had come to start looking for somewhere quiet to put the tent, the kids had swelled in ranks and been joined by a load of adults who were equally incapable of keeping their hands off the Pino.  We decided to give up on that particular beach.  A few kilometres later we gave up on camping altogether and got a hotel…ah, aircon and a shower!  I can’t say I was unhappy.

Route 1 gets bad press in cycling blogs for being busy and chaotic…which it is….but it’s not as bad as many roads we’ve been on and it does have the advantage of being flat, unlike the HCM highway which at this point is rolling over the hills to the west.  The tarmac on route 1 is also in pretty good condition so we were finally able to cruise at 20-25kph and get some distance covered…something we need to do if we’re to see Ho Chi Minh City and exit Vietnam before our visas expire.

The biggest downside to route 1 is the Vietnamese love of driving with their hand on the horn.  It’s just like being back in China…although with margially fewer dangerous driving maneuvers in evidence here….although that could simply be due to fewer drivers rather than better drivers.  I don’t think quite so many people here pull out without looking, but there’s enough of them to drive Keith to distraction….and that combined with the people on scooters who ride alongside us beeping their horn for no apparent reason has resulted in Keith swerving towards people and screaming “Toot, toot!” in their faces.  Another habit that’s getting on our nerves is the vocal minority who managed to make a simple greeting sound like a threat.  Even when off the bike, a stroll up the high street in a mountain town induced a peremptory bellow of “Hello” or, even more annoying, “Hey!” or “Oi!” from each and every shop.  Some people smile and say hello genuinely, which is lovely.  I always try to smile and wave back if it’s done nicely, but unfortunately for a fairly large minority it seems to be some sort of sport to bait foreigners.  We started off responding by shouting “Sin Jao” back , but I think the best response is just to ignore the bellowers and concentrate on the friendly people instead, of which there are plenty.  We are particularly grateful to the friendly cafe owners who brought out free rice and vegetables to bolster our midday meal when they realised we were on a budget.

With just one small hill to cross on route 1 we made fast progress from Vinh to just north of Dong Hoi where we cut inland to do some sightseeing.  Paradise cave was discovered just 8 years ago, and has got to be one of the most stunning places we’ve ever visited.  We’d had a tough day getting there and already had 100km on the clock as we literally had to get off and push the bike over the two short 20%+ climbs on the final approach to the car park, and were then faced with a kilometre walk and 500 step climb to the cave entrance, but once inside any tiredness was forgotten as we descended the wooden stairway into the deliciously cool depths and our eyes widened as an ornately decorated natural cathedral opened out before us.  The stairs wound down around gigantic stalagmites, and the cave roof and walls were draped with mineral folds that hung in thick curtains and looked for all the world as if you could wrap yourself up in them.  At the bottom of the steps, the wonderworld continued.  A wooden walkway took us round a corner and before our overawed senses chamber after chamber of glittering rock formations opened up.  Pipes like huge church organs lined the walls.  Silver-sheened fans of intricate tracery stacked metres tall to give an odd sense of both delicacy and immovable strength.  Our sense of reverence and wonder was of course shattered momentarily when a local tourist shoved his face into Keith’s to scream “Hello!’ before snickering and rejoining his moronic friends.  Ah, the joy of travel and experiencing other cultures.

The gigantic stalagmite near Paradise Cave entrance (viewed from below with the stairs winding up around it)

The gigantic stalagmite stack near Paradise Cave entrance (viewed from below with the stairs winding up around it)

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The photos just don’t give a sense of scale….this formation was enormous

The cavern carried on for a kilometre, all filled with extraordinary geological formations, and with a further 30km of cave beyond not open to the public

The cavern carries on for a kilometre, all filled with extraordinary geological formations, and with a further 30km of cave beyond not open to the public

A note to other cyclists planning a visit: there are two routes from the village of Son Trach to the cave.  We did both as a loop and are really glad we took them (entirely by accident) in the order that we did.  The Lonely Planet said there was accommodation in Son Trach so we were trying to find that with the intention of checking in and then heading to the cave unencumbered, but our map didn’t show Son Trach and signage petered out, so we asked locals for directions.  In hindsight it’s quite clear on googlemaps so we should have looked at that.  We ended up cycling west on the HCM highway’s eastern branch, past the entrance to the national park (the junction with route TL20, down which we would have found Son Trach) and we eventually turned south onto the HCM highway western branch where the caves are signed as being 16km away.  This route was the longer of the two routes but predominantly flat and took us through rice paddies surrounded by stunning karst scenery and then into the national park.  The only hills were in the last couple of kms and then the two horrible 20% ones on the approach road to the caves car park.  After seeing the caves we had finally worked out where we were on our map and decided to turn right after exiting the caves approach road and make it a loop back to Son Trach.  There was a bit of a climb and then a nice descent down to the crossroads where we turned left onto the TL20 which would eventually take us to Son Trach, but it was getting late so we camped on a gravelled clearing.  The next morning we were really pleased we hadn’t tried to make it to Son Trach the previous evening as the hills were really steep and very hard work even in the relative cool of the morning.  The scenery – heavily jungled karst – did make up for it and we felt as if we were in the middle of nowhere, but we were really glad we hadn’t been faced with those hills on our way out to the caves as we really needed fresh legs to tackle them.

Heading into the stunning jungle-clad Karst of Phong Nha National Park

Heading into the dramatic jungle-clad Karst of Phong Nha National Park

Boats on the river at Son Trach

Boats on the river at Son Trach

From Son Trach we rejoined the HCM highway eastern branch and headed east on the rolling road to Dong Hoi where we re-joined the busy-but-flat route 1 and then made relatively quick progress even through the heat of the afternoon to camp just a few kilometres short of Ho Xa, which set us up nicely for a visit to the Vinh Moc Tunnels the next day.

On our way to the tunnels we stopped for breakfast in Ho Xa market, where our MAG-badged pannier was spotted by some MAG employees, who stopped to chat and have their photo taken with us.

MAG in Vietnam

MAG employees admiring the Pino in Ho Xa

As in Laos, Vietnam’s social and economic development is seriously hampered by the legacy of unexploded ordnance (UXO).  Quang Tri province, which straddles the 17th parallel (the historic divide between north & south Vietnam) and where Ho Xa and the Vinh Moc tunnels are located, has recorded the highest number of casualties since the end of the war (6,760 casualties, including 2,774 killed) and 100% of the communities are still reported as contaminated.

From January to March this year MAG cleared 107,708 square metres of land in Vietnam…that’s about 15 football pitches….and destroyed 5,544 UXO.  The more we learn about the UXO problem the more shocked we are….that’s a lot of bombs in a relatively small area.  If you want to support the work of MAG please make a donation through the following link to our Just Giving page.JustGiving - Sponsor me now!

After saying cheerio to the MAG guys we ate our breakfast (delicious little shrimp parcels and some ginger dumplings) and set out towards the beautiful South China Sea coastline where the Vinh Moc Tunnels were home to several hundred civilians and fighters during the American-Vietnam war.  The Americans believed the villagers of Vinh Moc were supplying the Communist North with food and armaments, so they bombed them, forcing the villagers to dig in and re-locate themselves first 10metres and later, 30 metres underground.

I know that Asians are generally of a slighter build than Westerners, but you really wouldn’t have wanted to be claustrophobic living there.  After just 30 minutes of wandering around my neck was cricked, my back ached, and I really couldn’t wait to get out….and we had the luxury of being the only people in the tunnels, not one of the 60 plus families who lived in them for six years.

One of the Vinh Moc tunnel entrances

One of the Vinh Moc tunnel entrances

The living quarters for a family

The living quarters for a family

The maternity suite (yes, my head was wedged against the tunnel roof)

The maternity suite (yes, my head was wedged against the tunnel roof)

After visiting the tunnels we stayed on minor roads along the coastline and Keith finally got to swim on a deserted and idyllic beach.

Keith couldn't persuade me to camp here....what was I thinking???

Keith couldn’t persuade me to camp here….what was I thinking???

He tried to persuade me to camp, and I have to say I was tempted, but we’d set our sights on the historic town of Hue some 100km further down the coast and I REALLY wanted a shower and a night with aircon instead of sweltering in a sweat-soaked, airless tent.  It was a long day in the saddle, and dark as we approached Hue, with the only illumination coming from oncoming headlights and eerie, soundless flashes of lightning in the distant sky.

We’d been recommended a hotel by Ian, a cycle tourist we met travelling in the other direction that afternoon, and are very grateful to him for his recommendation.  The Phoenix is a lovely hotel.  We’re being treated like royalty, being fed free fresh fruit and cups of tea, and are even getting some laundry done as the price is not bad at all.

We’ll be heading on south in the next few days.  And to finish with, as ever, here are a few more pics of Northern Vietnam:

Rice paddies and karst scenery

Rice paddies and karst scenery

A church!! We hadn't seen one of those in a while, but it turned out to be the first of many.

A church!! We hadn’t seen one of those in a while, but it turned out to be the first of many.

The harvest in full flow

The harvest…being interrupted by the passing of a Pino

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A rice threshing machine in action

A rice threshing machine in action

Rice noodles hung out to dry

Rice noodles hung out to dry

Preparing the paddies for the next crop

Preparing the paddies for the next crop

Working on the chaingang

Working on the chaingang

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Freshly squeezed sugar cane juice....delicious!

Freshly squeezed sugar cane juice….delicious!

A cow that's trying to be a camel

A cow trying to be a camel

Campsite sunset

Campsite sunset

 

 

Danba to Xichang 08 – 14 March 2013

It’s been a game of cycle-touring snakes and ladders this week. From Danba we decided to head southwest, uphill on the S303 and S215 to Tagong, which is purported to have beautiful pastureland on a high plateau. For 50km we slogged our way upward, gaining over 1000m vertically; but we didn’t complain as the road surface was good, the air was clear, and the scenery was relatively unspoilt and pretty, with lots of trees and bushes softening the rocky walls. We even found a nice spot to camp on the far side of the river, away from the road noise (although crossing the log bridge was a bit of a challenge).

The prettier face of Western Sichuan (the scenery, not Keith!)

The prettier face of Western Sichuan (the scenery, not Keith!)

Spring hits the hillsides west of Danba.

Spring hits the hillsides west of Danba.

Watch your step!

Watch your step!

And then we hit a snake: at a police checkpoint the barrier was in down and the policeman in charge, whilst friendly and polite, insisted we could go no further as the road was ‘dangerous’. His English was not good enough for further explanation, but after pointing at some rocks we think perhaps he was trying to say there had been a landslide. Keith begged and pleaded but to no avail. There was nothing for it but to roll back the way we’d come, and so, 24 hours almost to the minute after leaving Danba we found ourselves back there again. It was extremely frustrating and disappointing.

Arriving back into Danba

Arriving back into Danba

Leaving Danba for a second time we only had one route choice: the S211. To compound our disappointment this turned out to be the second most horrible road we’ve had the misfortune to find ourselves on since embarking on our travels. Pitted, pot-holed tarmac regularly gave way to long unsurfaced sections comprised of rocks and dirt. There were several lengthy tunnels, some of which contained numerous unsigned underground junctions, and at one point we spent over 10km underground in two back-to-back tunnels that had just 100m or so of daylight between them. Above ground the scenery was primarily a series of construction sites that filled the air with choking dust, making our eyes stream and throats and noses sore. Despite its appalling condition the road was a relatively popular route so there were frequent assaults on our eardrums by sadistic drivers deploying airhorns at point-blank range. In the end I resorted to using earplugs, which wasn’t comfortable and made conversation with Keith difficult, but at least it was less painful than being on the receiving end of yet another bloody horn blast. In fact, the China cycling experience is greatly improved by being muffled; the horns are downgraded to a mere annoyance, whereas at full volume it had got the point where I’d struggle to suppress a homicidal rage each time another unprovoked and painful attack was launched on my poor eardrums. So, all in all we were pretty annoyed that our route to Tagong had been thwarted. The only redeeming feature of the S211 road was that it proceeded in a generally downhill direction, but to be honest it was scant comfort as most of the time the road surface was so bad we were trundling at 10-15kph.

The less-than-lovely S211 road.

The less-than-lovely S211 road.

A not-so-dusty section of the S211.

A not-so-dusty section of the S211.

We toyed with the idea of taking the G318 through Kangdang and then continuing south on our original route choice of the S215, but by the time we reached the junction we were so demoralised and dust-covered that we couldn’t face a significant climb on what would be an unknown quality of road, so we continued south and predominantly downhill on the G318, picking up the S211 again after Luding. By then the road was in slightly better condition, although still somewhat of a building site and the air remained so thick with dust that we could barely see the other side of the river. It was on this second section of S211 that we landed on another snake.

Oops!

Oops!

A sudden explosion behind us announced the demise of our trailer tyre. The tread still looked reasonable but when viewed from inside it was clear that the carcass was beginning to deteriorate and there were an number of weak spots, the worst of which had just blown out on us. As we sat working out how to fix it a chap on a motorbike stopped and offered to take Keith back to the last small town where he might be able to buy a new tyre. Sadly that turned out to be a rather over optimistic hope and no tyre could be found, but Keith did end up getting a nice thick piece of truck inner tube which, along with some duct tape, made an excellent tyre boot and easily saw us into the next major town of Shimian, where for the princely sum of five quid we got ourselves a new tyre and inner tube.

Heading off to look for a new tyre.

Heading off to look for a new tyre.

 

The nice lady we eventually bought a tyre from enjoying the Pino experience.

The nice lady we eventually bought a tyre from enjoying the Pino experience.

The night of the tyre repair was probably our worst campsite yet. Delayed by the blown tyre we didn’t have long to look for somewhere before nightfall, and ended up literally on the verge at the side of the road, where there was just enough space to squeeze ourselves between the road and the steep drop down about 40m to the tumbling river below. The river was barely visible through the thick red dust, but the dust seemed to be settling as we erected the tent so we thought that perhaps it wouldn’t be too unpleasant an evening, with only the rumble of tyres about 3m from our heads to disturb us. That relative peace lasted about 10 minutes until the night shift clocked on and the cause of the particularly thick dust became apparent to us. High above us on the opposite side of the river they were building a new road and were using large diggers to shovel away the rocky walls, with the debris thundering down into the river below. Every now and then there’d be a particularly large rock-fall and we’d begin to wonder if our side of the river was safe enough – the last thing we wanted was for the river bank to fall away beneath us. In the end we stayed, and so did the workmen – until 3am! Not the best night’s sleep we’ve had, but at least we were still alive in the morning.

A few minutes after taking this picture we managed to find a space to squeeze the tent between the road and the river (currently hidden below the dustcloud)...not our nicest campsite.

A few minutes after taking this picture we managed to find a space to squeeze the tent between the road and the river (currently hidden below the dustcloud)…not our nicest campsite.

At Shimian we joined the G108 and started to climb again. After a couple of hours it was time to start the usual debate about whether or not a not-particularly-nice campsite would ‘do’ or whether it was worth carrying on to see what else might appear. We’d just talked ourselves out of one site when a clap of thunder put things into a different perspective and we rapidly agreed that it was an excellent site after all, and whilst it was rather too visible from the road to be ideal, on the upside it did have one of the best views we’ve had from the tent in a while.

Room with a view.

Room with a view.  The three parallel lines on the left of the picture are: top – the G5 motorway; middle – the G108 (our road); bottom – the river.

Because of the mountainous terrain the roads generally follow river lines (although in the case of motorways they follow a series of tunnels and bridges to take the most direct route) so we’ve spent most of the last couple of weeks in deep valleys interspersed with climbs over passes. Some climbs have been just a couple of hundred metres high, others over 1500. It’s been interesting to see the change in the nature of the valleys as we’ve passed from one to another. Somehow, in our minds, we expect the valley we’re dropping into to be a mirror image of the one we’ve just climbed out of, but this has rarely proved to be the case. Barren rocks give way to orange groves, which then, over the next climb, are replaced with a wider plain and acres of wheat. The house style has changed too, with the distinctive and colourful Tibetan-style windows (which we mentioned in our last post) giving way to artwork of horses, bulls and babies, which changes again in the next valley to a red and yellow wave pattern, and finally, as we approached Xichang, we were dazzled by colourful floral murals.

The changing artwork on Sichuan houses.

The changing artwork on Sichuan houses.

09-2409-2509-2609-2709-28China continues to frustrate and delight us in equal measure. We’ve been met with smiles and helpfulness on countless occasions, but sometimes with glowers and persistent demands to know how much the bike costs. We’ve ridden along some quiet roads in beautiful countryside, but sadly too often on busier roads surrounded by concrete and dust. We love the food and the way people in cafes try their best to understand what we’re ordering, and let us poke around the kitchen to work out the menu, but we remain deeply annoyed by the drivers who habitually overtake on blind bends and use their horns at the slightest provocation. Some days we really like it here, but on more than one occasion in the last week we’ve been ready to leave. But with 27 days left on our visa and over 1500km still to go to the Laos border, no doubt China will have some more treats, trials and tribulations in store before it’s done with us.

The eastern end of Danba; our hostel was on the left bank, and the school was opposite on the right bank.

The eastern end of Danba; our hostel was on the left bank, and the school was opposite on the right bank.

Looking over at Danba school.

Looking over at Danba school.

Little old ladies in Danba.

Little old ladies in Danba.

Colourful Tibetan headscarves, Danba.

Colourful Tibetan headscarves, Danba.

Spinning wool, Danba.

Spinning wool, Danba.

Ox-drawn plough, between Danba & Tagong.

Ox-drawn plough, between Danba & Tagong.

Old stone towers at Suopo, 4km SE of Danba.

Old stone towers at Suopo, 4km SE of Danba.

An oasis of colour amongst the drab rock and concrete along the S211.

An oasis of colour among the drab rock and concrete along the S211.

Yet another worksite along the S211.

Yet another worksite.

Some of the building projects are pretty impressive.

Some of the building projects are pretty impressive.

The Chinese really love aerial roadways.

The Chinese really love aerial roadways.

Some Chinese cyclists who stopped for a chat on the way to Shimian.

Some Chinese cyclists who stopped for a chat on the way to Shimian.

Approaching Xichang we noted a change in both the landscape (now flatter and wheat being grown) and people's headwear.

Approaching Xichang we noted a change in both the landscape (now flatter and wheat being grown) and people’s headwear.

Interesting hats near Xichang.

Interesting hats near Xichang.

Traffic approaching Xichang.

Traffic and perpetual building works approaching Xichang.

Traffic got heavier as we approached Xichang.

Traffic got heavier as we approached Xichang.