8th
HUE (pron who-ay) continued.

Last night one of my dorm-mates, an older bloke (could well be my age actually but looks worse for wear) came in lateish drunk and having some disagreements with unseen friends, I had considered changing dorms earlier, now I know why. I sleep generally ok though. I had a free breakfast at the hostel, some bread butter, jam and hot coffee by then. I am feeling lazy in the morning, eventually decide to visit the Citadell which is quite important monument in the City, having been the capital of the country for hundreds of years and where the last emperor abdicated power in favour of the revolutionary council in 1945. I was looking forward to a nice day walk around and break from the riding. I have a good massage including hot stones in hotel Camillia as recommended by the hostel reception, not too happy with the young masseus though trying to get a tip from me, I assume she is already bieng paid. The price also gives me access to the steam room and the Sauna and I spent an hour in these. The Masseus catches up with me again while I am in the changing room!

I was having problems with my camera memeory card again, everytime I put it into a computer I get a message saying it should be formatted before use. I cant reformat as I would lose all the photos. I buy another card after which I realise the problem was with the USB attachment, so I have to buy one of those too, consolation is that my photos are not lost!I am a little restless though, not really used to the hustle and bustle of the town and get fed up fairly quickly by the usual street traders and  rickshaw drivers. I learnt later that some good deals could have been had . I get some lunch and return to the hostel and pick up the bike and head back into town, it is gone mid day now. For 5000 VTD I park the bike with an attendent.

The Citadell is indeed quite something, huge moat around the whole old town, circumference 10000 meters, no less, thick walls. Within the walls at the centre is placed the Citadell where the emperors used to live and conduct official business, about 600 by 600 meters, a lot of it in good condition and also a lot being reconstructed.

Afterwards I criss cross the old town and suddenly realise I am actually enjoying being in the flow of the bikes again. I am begining to consider riding of bikes in Vietnam more as a philosophy rather than art or science. I was given some ideas by Felix, he likened it to being part of school of fish where you flow around obstacles, form the outside it looks a chaos but actually it works quite well, there is a hidden understanding and cooperation that is adhered to by all involved. The whole thing is like a self conducted orchestra, different parts works well together and produce some kind of movement that makes sense.

You still have to be careful though, I have at times wondered if I can be in a sort of meditative state while in traffic, it does  have a feel of being part of a bigger thing. Then you get couple of young girls in front of you who decide to pull in unexpectedly (actually they were eyeing up the shops earlier and I missed the clue) and my shoulder screams as I try to avoid crashing into them.

The traffic in whatever form it may be, can: pull out in front of you without looking, slow down suddenly or stop, do U turn, conduct conversations with other traffic, drive in opposite direction to you even in your lane (when you miss a turining it is easier to do this than try to cross over to the correct lane), carry unusual loads (3 pigs on the back of a motorbike, a load of ducks or chickens, wife and couple of young children, 8 meter long piple being dragged length wise behind the bike, bail of grass behind the driver on top of which a woman was sitting....

In the evening while taking advantage of the beer policy, I get chatting to Candida (south african, London resident business analyst) and introduced to Georgina (Papua New Guinnea) and Carolin (French Canadian) with whom I have a nice dinner. This also  protects me from approach for prostitutes.
Carolin tells me that my experience is what women put up with all their lives, her language also becomes even more colourful as she gets drunk on red wine over dinner.

I have smoked too many cigarettes.

At night some of the younger crowd who have been at the beach and earlier playing with a ball at the front of the hostel turn up while couple of us are trying to sleep. Joys of dorm life.

9th

I wake up with the same boys organising to leave and decide there is little point staying in bed, besides I need to make a move today, already feeling restless after a whole day!
Shamefully I am a little amused watching the boys limping a little having played barefoot football on the tarmac yesterday.

After breakfast and brief chat with the girls I get the motor bike washed which was dirty following getting caught in the rain two days earlier. I head south following the beach road towards Denang and eventually Hoian based on the recommendations of the Aussie manager of the hostel. I manage to miss running over a snake crossing the road, not sure if it was as luky with the other motor bike. I have a coffee at a place, being surrounded by 8 kids of fairly close ages. I initially thought they all belonged to the same couple, but only 2 did. I have a great lunch at a very busy junction of the road I emerge from and the A1, noodle soup with 2 nicely cooked pork chops for a kingly sum of 15000 (0.75). The road is pretty aweful and within an hour or so I am promising myself to try and avoid it in the future.

About 1.30 I find a shadey spot for myself and the bike off a bend in the mountain roak so basically not only I have been on A1, with poor road surface and going through the mountains, not that it makes any difference to the driving standards, despite signs not to overtake (if there is a slow vehicle the others will overtake even on a blind bend). I do feel fairly well rested afterwards even though I am pretty sure I did not sleep with all the traffic and hooting that went on. I was brought into full consciousness by a herd of buffalos grazing nearby and decided I should make a move, time 14.17.

The outline on the Tarmac
there is a holdup ahead, police are present with their tape measure. As I pass I spot a mangled bicycle near the rear wheels of a bus and when I glance over my shoulder as I pass the front of the bus, a rough chalk pattern around a pull of blood in the process of drying. The blood has flown towards the side of the road.

I take a break and the timing is good because I am near a junction and one young man with reasonable English informs me that I can either go through the tunnel (his recommendation as he considers the other route dangerous) or go over the mountain path. I had been told to avoid the tunnel at the hustel. The mountain path is indeed a little dangerous depending on your speed, at times I prefer having my mule with me instead of the bike, I wont have to worry about climbing the slopes while doing a hairpin corner simultaneously.

The scenery is nice, where I had my break was Langco, and I see some nice beaches as I climb. At the top of the climb there are remnants of war, American and French bunkers and great view of the valley below. I am sold some tiger balm, I would have really  preferred a map but what he had was pretty poor. As I take another photo I notice how quickly the conditions change, mountain gets suddenly misty and visibility can deteriorate in a short time.

On the road earlier I decide to overtake a biker and his passenger carrying a sheet of glass between them. I prefer to have these guys behind me. I do wonder if they would lose some fingers if there is a bump in the road or sudden changes in traffic.

I have had a couple of rests as I approach Denang, once as I am getting off the bike I am wondering if I would want to rejoin the traffic again! It is relentless and tiring.

I have decided not to have an overnight stay at Denang, looks like another busy town and from what I remember from my travel book Hoian is a nicer place to spend time in. One of the bikers and his passengers that I ask directions from offer to guide me through the town towards Hoian and they do for 3 km of pretty busy traffic, at times the gap between us lengthens and I do my best to catch up as safely as I can.

I am heading out of Denang, 30 km to Hoian and wondering if I will make it in daylight. I am pretty tired. As I approach the outskirts of Denang the daylight is pretty much gone and luckily I am still alert enough to decide to make a stop soon. I spot a little settlement off the main road and  pull in. Asking around I am escorted by another biker to a small hotel and I check in with the young boy at the reception. There appears to be no hot water in the rooms and the place is empty as well as looking still under constructioin. I head back into the village to get something to eat. The waitresses seem to be sitting and spending time at some of the tables, ia am guessing that most of the people here are relatives too. There are at least 4 days of celeberations from tomorrow for the New year. Beer is delivered to the tables in a crate accompanied with a bucket of ice, so people cool the beer as they need to and at the end the bottles consumed is counted and paid for, in my case I just ordered 2 bottles!

Back at the hotel I fortunately ask about the check-out time, 6 a.m. ouch! But the good thing is an early start and hopefully breakfast at Hoian. In the room I wash a coupole shirts and decide to use my sleeping bag as blanket instead of going downstairs again. While in the bathroom there is a knock on the door, typical, the manager turns up with a single use tooth brush set, a blanket and asks for my passport. The fan is wall mounted and has variety of sounds to it. I can hear 3 distinct humming noises with varying pitch and more interestingly at the end of each of its swings you get the impression there is someone in the room breathing with you! The mechanism responsible for the change of direction creates a breathing noise.

I am seriously considering selling the bike in Saigon instead of attempting to take it across the border into Cambodia and Laos. mI have heard these countries are not too keen of allowing bikes in, and I could do with being transported around for a while too.

i have seen some amazing parts of the country and at a lot closer distance than I would have done otherwise. On the other hand it is difficult to relax and fully enjoy the scenery more of the time or just rest while some one else is driving, admittedly some of the driving I have seen will make it less than restful travelling.