linhnguyensituation

Hanoi Scooter Rally-2010

2010-09-09T08:24:00.000-07:00

2010 is an incredibly audacious year for Hanoi. It marks the 1,000 years anniversary of the city’s founding. So, there has been great buzz and excitement as various groups and organizations plan and promote their respected events.

New roads are being built and old parks are getting renovated with swatches of flowerpots spelling out “1000 Years”.

I’ll snap some pics to show this in the future. Actually, I’d need to do it soon because the big date will be October 10^th. Get it? 10.10.10

Anyway, one of these Hanoian groups staged their event recently and I was fortunate enough to attend. Vespafriends.com is a website dedicated to all motorbike fans with all kinds of motorbikes, whether they be vintage or new. But it mostly focuses on, as the name says, Italian Vespas.

They called out to scooters from all corners of Vietnam to gather and commemorate Hanoi’s historic year. So I wasn’t surprised to see scooters from as far south as Saigon here. I was surprised though when they told me that they had driven up the coast on their scooters to be here!

One thing you should know about anything old, and I’m sure many of you understand this already, is that they tend to break down frequently. If your old Vespa, Lambretta, Minsk, Ural or Honda breaks down in one of the big towns, it may take you at the most a couple of hours to get it fixed and it wouldn’t ruin your day completely. On the other hand breaking down some place outside of city center about 20 klicks and you’re out of luck.

Needless to say but the folks from the south-Saigon, Nha Trang, Da Nang and Thanh Hoa, traveled in large groups of at least a dozen bikes with, you guessed it, at least one mechanic.

So when my recently rebuilt and repainted 1966 Vespa Super needed a little fine tuning, there were plenty of capable tool smiths on hand.

This is Quang and Long, new mates of mine that I met at a local shop when I went to get my headlight fixed. In fact it was Quang who alerted me that I had miscalculated the day of the event and hurried me to meet up with them this day. Here they are tinkering with my carburation so the bike wouldn’t stall so easily. “You have to clean the jets regularly because the gas in Vietnam is low in quality.” Said Quang.

Where I had to hurry to was a bia hoi place, literally “air beer”, for lunch. The Saigon group and the folks from just south of the city-the Thanh Hoa club, were having lunch before the first rendezvous.

Here was what I saw upon first entering the scene. It was a feast for the eyes!

There must have been at least 60 bikes of all vintages, models and makes. And just inside, within the raucous and open-air restaurant, were its owners.

Normally I’m very taken a back by this kind of scene-men, mostly, getting drunk and rowdy. Except these folks weren’t getting too inebriated. They had to drive soon after all. They were just happy to see each other. There were cries of “happy to meet you” and “glad you made the long journey” along with the clinking of beer mugs.

Even I joined in for a couple of gulps before heading out onto the first meeting spot then to the event center, an amusement park west of the city.

As you can see from this video, the number of vintage bikes just got bigger and bigger until the lot of us, about 300 got to the grounds of the park. It was quite impressive and if my eyes weren’t crying from the 2-stroke smoke billowing all around me from the motorbikes, they would’ve been crying just for the beauty of the gathering.

Hanoi Scooter Rally- 2010 from Linh Nguyen on Vimeo.

That evening there was a pageantry and pomp pertaining to the old bikes. Local singers and dancers entertained from a stage they had to share with about 15 bikes for auction. And as the evening turned into night, makeshift beds were strewn throughout the grounds of the amusement park. Apparently the organizers thought these accommodations were fine for everybody, including those who traveled from the other end of the country.

Nevertheless from what the veterans of the scene were saying this was one of the first and largest gathering in a long while. For me this rally was a great way to get in to the mood for Hanoi’s millennium celebration.

Unexpected Adventure

2010-07-31T23:47:00.000-07:00

Just as quickly as I ascended the Marina Bay Sands resort, I shortly thereafter hit rock bottom. I had contracted a virus somewhere along the way and had a fever that would not go away.

Now, living in the third world one gets exposed to all kinds of….well, let’s say foreign entities. I was fortunate enough to have been born here so I’ve retained some immunity, I think, from the older pathogens. Except that these days there are new, more potent, varieties like SARS, the bird flue and dengue fever.

If you remember there was an outbreak of SARS here in the early 2000’s where Vietnam, especially Hanoi, gained worldwide acclaim for its early detection and containment of this potentially global disaster. So, it should be no surprise to you that Hanoi has some of the most well prepared facilities to treat these ailments.

And it was at one of these facilities that I experienced my greatest adventure so far in Vietnam. Think of sweaty palms before a long climb, sleepless night before a grueling marathon or butterflies in the stomach before a big presentation. I had all these as I walked pass the “National Center for Infectious Tropical Diseases” wing of Hanoi’s Bach Mai Hospital on my way to my hospital room.

I was thinking, “You’ve done some tough things in the past and you’ll get through this too.” And, “How bad can it be compared to the things that I’ve seen in my travels?”

This last question though got me even more anxious. For what is an adventure without an unknown element or two? I had no idea how it was going to be. The doctor who had examined me said they’d need to keep me here for a couple days at least and asked if didn’t mind sharing my hospital bed with 3 or maybe 4 other patients.

“?????” I thought!

Maybe I misunderstood her because that happens quite frequently here for me. But then I remembered what the doctor said at the French Hospital-next door and infinitely more expensive. “If you can persevere at Bach Mai, they have just as good if not better treatment for such sickness.”

Having to share your hospital bed with 3 or 4 other people is perseverance, even to a Vietnamese, who is accustomed to personal contact. Imagine sitting, half lying there with an IV sticking out of your forearm and your bedfellow’s feet jabbing into your ribs every so often because he too is uncomfortable and incoherent.

Here you can count 8 people with four beds. But in actuality there are 10 patients assigned to this room. The other two are hanging out in the hallway-like me.

Maybe at this point I should try to answer the question, “why?” Why would hospital administrators allow for such crowded conditions?

Well, the answer is quite simple if you think about it. You have a throng of sick people waiting and the longer it takes for these folks to get admitted the worst their conditions will become. At least if they’re in a hospital room where doctors can take blood to ascertain the root of the illness, give what is called supportive care like IV’s and pain relievers and basically watch over them, they’d have a better chance of healing than not being allowed in to begin with.

I for one felt better instantly after taking in two bags of fluids. It had been 4 days since the onset of the fever and I was apparently really dehydrated. I also felt better because the other part of the unknown was going be revealed to me shortly-what the heck did I contract?

That morning my blood was being tested. I got a chest x-ray and an ultrasound of my abdomen later in the afternoon. And by the late afternoon, Dr. Thuy, the only doctor on duty that Saturday, revealed to me the results.

She asked if I had been recently exposed to mice or rat feces.

“!!!!!” I thought.

Surely it wasn’t at the 5 star accommodations of Singapore…..Nor the damp environment of Ha Long Bay…...It must have been my climbing equipment!

Often I leave food in my climbing pack and forget about it until the next time I go climbing when I repack. I recalled that when preparing for the Marina Bays Sands climb there were some rodent poop in my big climbing equipment bag, but I never gave it a second thought as I pulled out the essentials. Until then.

I believe what I got was the Hanta virus, although I couldn’t get a perfect translation from the Vietnamese word. And luckily it was cured with antibiotics and lots of intravenous fluid, which by the way is my new favorite way to hydrate.

But this wasn’t the only new discovery on this adventure. I learned how a group of people, of diverse backgrounds, could rally together and help one another heal.

Along side me were a well to do family from the central region tending to a daughter, next to them a friendly, always smiling couple from a farm up north near China looking after their father and a well dressed Hanoian mother seemingly idling her time with her well groomed, and equally well dressed son.

I was the only one without a family member nearby helping. Mandy was down in Saigon working and I couldn’t bring it upon myself to ask any of my friends for help. One, I didn’t need it like the others here. I still had plenty of strength. And two, I didn’t want to expose any of my friends to what was flying around in the air in this ward. Still, everyone who knew I was alone took turns to make sure I was ok.

When it came time for meals, mine was brought up and delivered by one of these family members. They’d make room for me when I needed “space” on one of the beds to get my IV. And as night fell, they told to me get permission from the doctor to have a cot to sleep on. I’d have to buy it myself and bring it up but I’d need the doctor’s permission to get pass the security guards. But a cot alone was probably way more comfortable than a shared hospital bed.

And this was the view from that cot the first night as I laid outside the hallway looking for fresh, cool air. Being in the hospital in Vietnam is being in a big slumber party.

The second day I found out that the reason that the well dressed son and mother looked the way they looked was because they lived nearby and only stayed during the day to get treatments. At first they stayed overnight just because he was weak but now that he’s better they could return to the comforts of their own bed at night. So, I did the same that Sunday night because the hospital is a mere ten-minute taxi ride to my home.

Monday morning when I returned to the hospital, the ward was greeted by a full staff of nurses and doctors who after surmising that I no longer had a fever and that I was feeling fine released me.

And when it came time to leave I gave my cot to the girl of the well to do family from the central region. She too has been trying to share her bed with two other ladies and she has been here for over 20 days.

It’s not that they couldn’t get one of the rooms where there was only one person to a bed with ac and a TV. It was more that there were none available, or at least none of us knew the right person to bribe. And this would’ve gotten us let’s say at least 2 star accommodations, but I for one learned a great deal more from what we expats here call Vietnamese level accommodations.

I got a better sense of the Vietnamese culture of community/family, the one that will accept outsiders as one of theirs. And I learned that under dire circumstances I could withstand more discomfort than ever before.

And Now For Something Completely Different

2010-06-28T19:09:00.000-07:00

When I first got the invite to come down to Singapore to participate in the grand opening of a new hotel/resort, I thought, “Sure, why not?” I would need to do a visa run within 30 days time anyway and this trip out of Vietnam wouldn’t cost me anything.

Initially I was asked to help with logistics of safety for the climbers and be the go-between for riggers of ropes and helpers on the ground. But, as the days ticked down to my flight I got the message that they would need me to step in and climb for the Canadian team. Apparently Will Gadd, a very famous Canadian extreme sports athlete and an old friend, had a conflict and would not be able to attend.

Here I am with Will's medal!

OK. I now get to climb. Great! But I’d have to also compete in a speed climbing contest? Yikes!

Those of you who know my climbing style would never describe me as being fast going up anything. Methodical and calculating yes but not fast.

So there I was at about 4:30 pm local Singapore time last Monday, hanging out on the west side of the brand new Marina Bay Sands Resort in Singapore cursing my climbing past-the one that got me here because at one time I was somewhat known and the more recent one that did not allow me proper fitness for such an endeavor because Hanoi has been so stinking hot. 300 feet off the ground laybacking against slick glass and pulling myself up on steel fins, I was dead. The tropical heat and sun reflecting off the glass building was killing me. “How the heck am I going to be competitive in this physical state?” I was thinking as sweat poured from my nose and chin while I looked down hundreds of feet to the ground. It took me over 40 minutes to climb the 600 foot route. I was slow and I felt dejected at the top.

This was my first practice though. And as the competition neared I got stronger because the heat began to lower.

All the while, all of us climbers were being housed within this 5 star resort. My room had a 50” TV, a big beautiful bathtub and view southeast to the bay. The meals were completely paid for and we were granted full use of the facilities from the spa to the fitness rooms. We were treated like kings and queens.

We, if I can back up a little, are a group of 21 climbers-some famous and a few not as famous, from all over the world. China, Taiwan, Thailand, Canada, The US, England, Spain, Poland, Bulgaria, New Zealand, Australia and of course Singapore were all represented. It was a mix mash of nationalities placed on regional teams- Team Commonwealth, Team China, Team Singapore, Team Asia, Team Europe, Team Canada and Team USA.

Each team had three members and each member would climb one of the towers. A “tag” relay would provide the dynamic element to showcase the three towers. Also ending the event in the pool up at the Sands Skypark represented the climax. You can see this as a great big ship sitting on top of the three towers.

We climbers provided the opening act to the entire ceremony. And as the first place Team Singapore rang the finishing bell a squadron of sky divers descended over the Skypark down to the waters of the Marina west and below the hotel. Only then was it official that the celebration could begin.

And celebrate is what we climbers did.

You see this was no easy task. From the fittest to the weakest. From the new hot shots to the old veterans. We were all really nervous for a few days. The climb was long. The conditions went from stiflingly hot to soaking rain to blasting wind. Every few hours leading up the live climb would pose a new challenge from new equipment requirements to new timing on the ques.

It was a great relief when our first and only trial run as a coordinated group turned out well without any glitches. This was on Tuesday afternoon. But, four hours before the live broadcast the next day the Singapore skies darkened and blasted the area with rain.

“I told the hotel that climbers are perfectly capable of performing in the rain.” Said Matt Robertson, the climbing event organizer hired by the resort and our personal contact to hotel management. I vividly remembered asking him, “We can? Wouldn’t that be really slick with the glass and the wet railings?” He didn’t know. Nobody knew. It hadn’t rained on anyone yet during all the practice runs.

Eventually we all found out what it was like to climb these features wet. An hour before the live start we had to get ourselves in place, get up to just above midway, and the bottom third was wet enough to make moving up at least 50% harder. But luckily the higher we climbed the dryer it became for the top of the wall overhangs beyond vertical.

We started up midway because we had to get high enough to finish as a team under 15 minutes, the time allotted by ESPN. From the video of the live footage you can see us just hanging out.

Be it adrenaline, the cameras or just rising up to the occasion, but we all pretty much smoked the climb. Doing it all without a hitch. I felt the best I had felt all week and was glad to join in the festivities at the top in the pool.

But this over the top adventure didn’t end here. Shortly after our climb I had an appointment with the Vietnamese news media, flown in, like almost every other country in the world, to cover the event.

Then there was a big gala dinner thrown. It was originally a black tie affair but the management was gracious enough to make an exception for us climbers. There we were sitting along side famous gamblers-the resort of course has a casino, brand managers of all the boutique stores from the hotel’s mall and famous celebrities. The dinner was great-decorative dishes that tasted international. But the entertainment was over the top.

During appetizers a live orchestra serenaded us with classical music. Just before our main dish arrived several singers from the musical Jersey Boys sang Frankie Vally songs from their hit Broadway show. And when we finished our main course Dianna Ross came out on the stage and wowed us with her still great voice and energy. None of us thought that our day would end thusly, dancing along with the rich and famous to old Motown hits.

I guess we deserved all this pampering after such a stressful week, a week completely different than my normal ones in Hanoi.

The Great Northern Vietnam Motorbike Tour-Day Nine, The Last Day

2010-06-01T10:39:00.000-07:00

We slept in this morning knowing that the time back to Hanoi would only be five hours on the road. We ate a lazy breakfast and began packing when a big group of Hanoian students converged on our little guesthouse of serenity. They had booked to have lunch here.

There is nothing worse than a group of Vietnamese in any form to scare me away. (I’ll tell you more about this at another time.) So before we knew it we were on our bikes riding out of Mai Châu valley, back onto highway 6 towards Hanoi.

It was another sunny and warm day. The road wound its way down south out of the mountains before heading east. And just as it began to head east I noticed familiar roads. I had ridden these very same roads, in reverse direction, last fall when going down to Cúc Phương National Park. And just as I remembered it the scenery was again beautiful-nice country roads void of cars, twisting and turning over streams and thru rice fields.

Another crop grown in these parts is sugar cane. This variety is dark brown in color with bright green headdresses for tops. Of course when we stopped to get something to drink and the shop owner said the he didn’t have any “nước mía đá”, iced sugar cane juice, we moved on. He was nice enough though to tell us that there were a few places up the road that sells these…..

….the best ever nước mía đá!

I think we each had two glasses. I’m sure the sugar cane came from the backyard or the neighbor’s yard. I wished that all sugar cane juice was this good.

As it so often happens in Vietnam, the young girl who greeted us stumbled with the cane press and called for help. Then from across the street came scampering an older woman ready to take charge.

This woman also told us we were right in asking for lime and that she would be right back with some, for she had forgotten to get them earlier at the local market. “Don’t you think this is the best mía đá?” She said, as she trotted away again.

So, there we were about 60 km’s from Hanoi enjoying refreshing drinks and savoring our last little bit of the tour.

This was the very last day of the trip. We were looking forward to getting back to our home in Hanoi but knew that after some time we’d be wishing for the road again. Such is the case with traveling, whether it be by plane, train, automobile or in this case motorbikes.

Another thing that travel conjures up are these scenes of indescribable beauty.

On my computer screen are a small handful of pictures that I couldn’t find places for within the prior postings. And it is because they are each so unique as to require their own stories or so unique as to leave a lasting impression.

Have a look.

“Oh my God. Here’s that pig with the largest balls!” Cried Kay when we drove off from Phố Rang to Lào Cai. “I have to take a picture of it.”

“Honey. I think we have to dispose of your melon.” I said when fruit flies began gathering around our unofficial mascot in our hotel room in Sa Pa. Mandy had purchased this somewhere near Ba Bể . And in its travels all the way here, it survived rain, fog and a very scary skirmish with the pavement while riding along with Kay. Like Kay it too suffered a few scrapes and bruises.

This is another picture of our mascot, here complicit with Charlies’ H’Mong Angels.

“Uh, Luke. Can you give me shove?” Need I say more?

If I had a MyFace account, this would be my profile picture. This was taken by Daria a person who would seem-from other pictures she has taken of me, to be my personal photographer.

Another great photographer on this trip is Kristi. Riding on the back of Luke…..ah hum…she was free to snap away and was able to capture some great images. This one is a gem.

See what I mean by indescribable?

Just like this trip has been indescribable, although I’ve worked hard at expressing as much as I can remember. Still, there was just too much to recount and ideas and concepts that were to hard to put down into words.

To get a real sense of Northern Vietnam-your own real sense of Northern Vietnam, you’ll have to take the tour yourselves. Feel the road underneath your wheels. Eat the local food. And chat with the local people.

*Photographs courtesy of Kay Okamoto, Daria Hagemann and Kristi Cruz.

The Great Northern Vietnam Motorbike Tour-Day Eight

2010-05-31T21:52:00.000-07:00

By now we’re feeling very seasoned with this motor biking thing. Looking out the window of the hotel we saw the sun shinning brightly signaling another hot day.

Some of us decided to wear shorts but also lathered on a thick dose of sun-block for good measure. Others decided to wet their hair and clothing to induce some conduction cooling.

The roads from Sơn La south and east was wide and well paved. I poured it on as much as I could muster keeping in mind the overheating issue. The others too were keeping an eye on me always ready to give assistance.

The heat wasn’t oven hot, but you could feel the strength of the sub-tropical sun. Whatever hair or skin exposed would almost crinkle a bit. Or at least it felt like it was. Luckily we were constantly moving. Whenever we did stop though that warm air would envelope us.

Yên Châu was where we took our first break. All along the roads here you could buy fresh pressed sugar cane juice. And unlike the city where they have to spike their sugar cane juice with sugar, these are so fresh that they only needed to add lime wedges to the rollers giving the drink another hint of spark to what is already a thirst quenching delight.

I also took the opportunity to get the Minsk washed and cooled down, and while walking over to where the ladies were enjoying their drink, a little girl not yet three years old said in perfect English, “Hello! How are you?” I was floored. Her caretaker said that her mother had lived overseas. Here in the middle of nowhere a Việt Kièu, someone much like me, had taken or retaken her residence.

Maybe not right next to this highway but up there at the base of those green hills amongst those few remaining tall trees, I could probably hideaway for some time. I thought. Thoughts that frequently visited me during this trip whenever there was a meandering river exiting a thicket of trees and bisecting rice fields. Or when there were craggy limestone walls set back behind a lake where water buffaloes were cooling.

Maybe this happens to you too when you travel.

Anyway, after a little while longer on the road we took a break to have lunch. Instead of the normal rice meal we opted for Bún Chả, a dish of rice noodles and fresh herbs dipped into a stew of a fish sauce induce papaya broth and bbq meats.

Then more dousing with cool water ensued and we were off again. But only for a little bit until we decided that it was time to visit-with-the-locals to learn about the regions specialty and to fix another flat tire on the Minsk.

One new inner tube, a bag of green tea, some milk candy and many laughs later we were back on the highway heading for Mai Châu, with plenty of time before sundown.

Mai Châu is in a little valley 5 Km’s south of Highway 6. Even before getting to the junction to turn the landscape was already beginning to change. The hills were steeper, the air cooler and the road more winding. Then as we turned off the highway we climbed up a short section of big sweeping turns to find an expansive green valley.

This is an Hanoian weekend retreat. Throughout the valley are guest-houses and home stays. When it’s sweltering in the city the temps here are more tolerable being about 3,000 feet higher. To top it off, the whole valley is a big rice field, which means that the whole valley for most of the year is covered by five inches of water underneath the vibrant green stalks, contributing to the lowering of the heat.

We pulled into town just as the sun began to duck underneath the western hills. Before getting here we were told about a couple of guest-houses to stay at so we stopped to ask for directions.

While parked and while I was listening to directions from a man at a shop selling drinks across from a shop doing metal work, we all heard a loud explosion. But I didn’t flinch, neither did the man giving me direction. In fact, as I looked across the street to the guys welding I noticed that they had halted from what they were doing. Then they gave me a big smile and pointed back down the road a few houses to a repair shop. The flat tire that I had been getting fixed the last couple of days blew once again.

The only people unsympathetic were Mandy and Kay. With hardly a few words they were off down the road. All I remember was something like, “You get your bike fixed and we’ll find a place to stay.” There may have been some parenthetical remarks like, “What a piece of junk! We’re out of here.” But I don’t remember.

Luckily the mechanic that made the repairs this time was the most cheerful of the bunch. He was young and complained that he was a little tired from playing soccer the day prior, a year since he had played last time. He said that if he wasn't sore then getting the tire back on the rim would be a great deal easier. And he said all this with a smile. You can see him here in this picture bouncing all his weight onto the tire.

I kept looking at the sky as he was doing this. It’s not yet dark and for sure our resting place was nearby. Would I have to turn on my headlights to get there this day?

Half an hour later, I found the ladies at this nice and tranquil little lodge out within the rice paddies. It was a Thai village of stilt houses and our room was this one.

So from there we watched the sun set reveling at the fact that we had done it, finally making it to our destination before nightfall.

Great Tour-Day Eight from Linh Nguyen on Vimeo.

*Photos courtesy of Kay Okamoto.

the Great Northern Vietnam Motorbike Tour-Day Seven

2010-05-27T03:20:00.000-07:00

After waking up in Mương Lay and seeing what a pit of town it was, we were a little depressed but also we were thinking that things couldn’t be any worse than it was last night. At least if there were more construction on the roads ahead we’d be able to meet it in the light of day.

For Mandy this day started pretty much the same as last nights end. After our late lunch/early dinner the previous evening Mandy downed a half bottle of warm water, not wanting to waste any precious liquid and simultaneously sealed her stomach from any normal functions. Consequently, she spent most the night next to the toilet and woke up extremely dehydrated.

Kay and I exercised our best first aid techniques to get her back on the motorbike and back on the road.
And eventually we climbed east out of the river valley onto national highway 6 and onto a ridge, a ridge that would lead us into amazing terrain punctuated by stilt house villages, green rice terraces and lovely locals.

Pictured here are a group kids swimming in a lake, cooling from the midday heat when Kay came up upon them with her camera. They saw her and ran screaming. The third boy back was beaming with joy until he noticed that he was completely naked, and naked to a foreign woman at that. His face changed instantly to a look of total embarrassment.

This waving and screaming of, “Hello!” or,” Good bye!” will forever be in our memories of Vietnam’s countryside-a lovely thought.

Further on we stopped for drinks for the heat was again hitting us hard, especially Mandy. She had to lay down and take a nap inside a shop selling snacks and drinks on one side and fixing motorbikes on the other. True to paramedic form, Kay and I purchase green tea lemonade and loaded them with salt to help Mandy with her dehydration, while we listened to the lady of the house converse simultaneously in Vietnamese and the local H'mong tongue with her three daughters. They too tried to help by offering to get a mat for Mandy to lay upon.

Anyway, these roads were beautiful for riding. For the first 90 km’s from Mương Lay to Tuần Giảo, we couldn’t drive too fast for it wounded its way above a wonderful valley. The road was slow going but the views also slowed us further. Then after Tuần Giảo it opened up wide allowing us to open up our throttles.

To everyone else-I’m sure, this was fantastic. And for me it was as well, but only for a short while.

Climbing out of Tuần Giảo I got a little over confident. The Minsk was running like a dream. We were ascending at about 45 km’s an hour and I was able to keep up with the ladies just fine. Then, again, at the top of the grade I lost all power.

Before we set off that morning we all had the goal of making the next destination before nightfall. This first "stop to visit with locals,” which I’m going to call my fix-the-broken-Minsk-pitstops from now on, would challenge that goal.

So, I got towed by a guy, with his inner tube sections, up to the next grade, from which I could coast down to the next little town. Mind you, having to stare at a big flexible rubber band attached to your bike and the bike in front of you is a little daunting, especially when he slows down and then speeds up. Every stop and go I saw the potential kinetic energy build and flinched every time the band stretched. Remember having rubber band fights as a kid? Imagine….snap! You’d get that inner tube shot straight back at you, at point blank and it would hurt more than just a little sting.

Luckily it didn’t break and I was able to make it down to the bottom of the grade only to be stuck again when the road flattened out. By now the ladies had sensed my doom and turned around. This time I would have Mandy tow me with the static line, one of my climbing ropes that I brought along for exactly this purpose. This essential item isn’t on the minskclubvietnam.com’s list of things to bring-like a flat tire repair kit and spark plug puller, but it should be.

Anyway, the mechanic at this little town ended up being a total motorbike junkie making it a pleasure for me to pick his brain. He had a fleet of Wins and a couple ’67 Honda Cubs. And, I nearly traded him for one of these if it were not for the fact that Minsk has no papers. (Here’s Mandy on one of those ‘67’s. This by the way is her dream machine.)

Instead the mechanic rebuilt the entire generator with new coils and a new magnet, suggesting that I take along with me two more sets of coils for future breakdowns. Of course I would fork out the 10 dollars for this extra insurance. And we headed on with a little more confidence that the Minsk is fixed but also a little more reservation that something else could go wrong. Don’t push it too much was what I was thinking.

So, instead of full throttle I was maybe three-quarters when I slowly felt some wobbliness. Danm, not again! This time it was a flat. And with Sơn La in sight down in the valley below us, 4 km’s away!

Again Mandy towed me to a nearby way station for the weary Minsk driver. This one was run by a Thai family. And, while they nursed back my rear wheel told us about why they have long, tall hair dos and offered us these little plums.

These little plums are not too different from the ones we have in California during the summer. They’re just smaller and greenish red as opposed to mostly red on the other side of the Pacific. And like the ones in the US, if picked early these too would have that sweet and sour taste, which I love. But fearing that eating too many of these would also relegate me to praying next to the porcelain god all night, I stopped after eating only three. As for the hair do, women who are married are not allowed to cut their hair. It’s a sign that they are not available to other men.

Cultural lesson finished, local produce consumed and rear flat repaired, we eventually rolled into Sơn La….with our headlights on, in the dark.

Over room service at a three-star, Vietnamese run hotel we expressed how we nearly made our goal, if it weren’t for the “stops to visit with the locals”.

But, boy! Those people were beautiful and those roads were great!

Great Tour- Day Seven from Linh Nguyen on Vimeo.

*Photos courtesy of Kay Okamoto.

the Great Northern Vietnam Motorbike Tour-Day Six

2010-05-26T03:52:00.000-07:00

The worse day ever!

Things went wrong right from start. As the remainder of our party was leaving Sa Pa, the Minsk began to act up again. It was a short section of hills on the outskirts of the city but the old beast lacked any power. Kay, on her Dream, and Mandy, on her Wave, left me in the dust. I pulled over to the first available mechanic out of building frustration.

He though doesn’t work on Minsks. What? Could the minksclubvietnam.com people be wrong? Actually he can work on them but has no parts. Ah! So, he directed me back to town to a mechanic who does and after taking the tailpipe apart, and cleaning it the Minsk was back on the road again.

Here’s where the nightmare really began. Granted we heard that the roads were going to be bad but while descending down a mountain pass road with Mount Fan Si Pan over our left shoulder, we rode on roads in various states of repair while dodging big construction rigs. Half of one lane would be torn up and filled with mud or dirt while the other half was maybe finished but still filled with mud and dirt from the other side. Then there were sections of just mud or just gravel filled pavement. Going was really slow. We were even delayed for half an hour at one section from a road crew.

Then the Minsk completely dies as we entered the next little town. Off again I went to a local mechanic while the others sat for cold drinks. (I failed earlier to mention that the day had dawned sunny making it now verging on being uncomfortably warm.) Anyway, he had one set of generator coils left and that did the trick. He did mention however that Minsk parts are hard to come by now, now that Minsks in the countryside are rare. He was right. I saw more Minsks being driven by westerners than locals on this trip.

But I will admit though that the beast is perfectly designed for these rough roads. While the others gingerly picked their way through the mud, the gravel and the disjointed asphalt, the Minsk just plowed along, floating on top of everything.

Our next big city was Lai Châu below Sa Pa in a large expansive valley, or that was what the signs read.

“Lai Châu? Wow! We made good time.” I said. And Mandy replied with, “Yes! And such a weird place.”

She was right. Everything was brand spanking new. The big government buildings, the roads and even the subdivision homes were newly built. But where were all the people? It was like an abandoned ghost town but it was obviously of recent construction.

What followed were hours of map deception and more nasty roads, as we wound our way down hill on the side of a steep canyon next to a raging river.

Great Tour-Day Six from Linh Nguyen on Vimeo.

That city that was called Lai Châu back there wasn’t Lai Châu on the map. Lai Châu on the map wouldn’t be for another 90 km’s. So when I was asking for direction to the next big town south called Tuần Giảo, I was getting odd looks and replies like, “Tuần Giảo? You’re still 200 km’s from there!” But the map said that the distance from Lai Châu to Tuần Giảo is only 90 km’s.

We were tired. We were hot. We were hungry. And as the sun was setting behind the western hills of the valley, we sat for a late lunch and realized that the map is completely wrong. Lai Châu on the map is old Lai Châu and the Lai Châu on the road is new Lai Châu. Lai Châu is also a province and not just a city. And what the authorities have done is move the provincial capital north 90 km’s recently enough for Vietnamese cartographers and Google to miss the update.

We were still 50 km’s from Lai Châu on the map, which is now known as Mương Lay. But the nightmare still hadn’t ended. Just before dark Kay’s motorbike got a front flat. Then as it went dark the road got worse. A lot worse!

For many km’s there were no pavement to speak of, just mud and/or dirt. At sections it went up and at others it went down. Going up would lead to a dead end but going down got muddier. Either direction saw heavy equipment vehicles belching nasty smoke. It was stop and go slowly. Stop and go slowly.

It was only maybe 25 km’s but it took an eternity. I remember coming up to a stopped Kay and Mandy, with Mandy shouting something. Later Kay recounted that Mandy was so mad that she was screaming, “When is this f*@!#*% going to stop?”

And as the scenery became brighter from all the construction lights things began to reveal themselves. Old Lai Châu or new Mương Lay, whatever you want to call it, is a massive construction zone. They are simultaneously building Vietnam’s biggest damn and several new roads on both sides of this river.

I found out after returning from the trip that a massive flood, years earlier nearly wiped out the entire city of Lai Châu. Government officials hence decided to move the provincial capital north, rebuild the roads and harness the might of the Na river all at the same time. On this day we saw this take shape before our eyes and under our wheels.

Eventually at about 9:30pm we found the only guesthouse in this dilapidated city. It was made up of several stilted buildings each teetering on its foundation. Pretty much like all other houses in this town minus the post office, the only brick and concrete building still standing.

Kay said that she was hoping to see the real Vietnam on this trip and determined that the reality of “real Vietnam” was truly bleak, after arriving in Mương Lay and after living this very long day.

The Great Northern Vietnam Motorbike Tour-Day Five

2010-05-24T10:32:00.000-07:00

Like every Giro, Vuelta or Tour, our journey thru Northern Vietnam also needed a rest. So on this 5^th day, we stayed put in Sa Pa, a hilly tourist town just south from the border of China’s Yunnan region.

Sa Pa was established by the French back in their colonial days to escape the heat of Hanoi and it has since turned in to one of the Northern region’s main travel destinations. Nearby is Vietnam’s highest peak, Fan Si Pan. There are numerous minority villages to visit here as well as waterfalls and rice terraces to see. Also being a major tourist attraction there are numerous western restaurants to appease a weary traveler.

We got here the night before and began resting instantly. We met up with the others at an Indian restaurant to have dinner and recounted our day. Kay, feeling embarrassed from getting lost earlier, kept apologizing. Mandy told the others about the epic ride up from Lào Cai. I was just too tired and hungry, impatient for my meal.

The others listened and said, “Don’t worry. Wait until you see the view in the morning. Your hard work has paid off!”

And they were so right. Kristi chose this great hotel over looking the valley, the mountains and part of the town. We all sat on the balcony over breakfast enjoying the incredible view, as clouds drifted in an out.

Great Tour-Day five from Linh Nguyen on Vimeo.

The hotel is built into this hillside with several terraces and balconies to lounge around on. They had outside as well as inside spaces. And in one of these inside spaces just as I got out of the elevator going to my room, I noticed something amiss. Not that I was paying great attention the night before upon arrival but definitely this morning there was something not right.

In this lobby hung three mannequins dressed up in local indigenous outfits. Yet sitting on the sofa below them was a belt. I was thinking, ”Heck, couldn’t the staff put the clothing back on properly after cleaning?”

A while later, Kristi with a sinister smile showed us pictures of their escapades from the night before. Mandy and I missed this because we came straight back to our rooms after dinner. The others though went out, had some drinks and decided to have a dress-up party. They were the ones that messed-up the displays.

You have noticed that I still haven’t yet mentioned the hotel’s name, didn’t you? This is done to protect the guilty. However, these pictures are for sure incriminating, if you know the location of the crime.

We will miss Luke, Kristi, Daria and Manu. The rest of the tour will be just Mandy, Kay and myself while they return to Hanoi on the overnight train.

So after an Italian lunch-we were by then tired of Vietnamese food, and a massage we said our farewells and they wished us luck for the rest of our journey. They knew we needed it!

*Photographs courtesy of Kay Okamoto, Daria Hagemann and Kristi Cruz.

The Great Northern Vietnam Motorbike Tour-Day Four

2010-05-21T04:20:00.000-07:00

The rains that fell last night found us again this morning when we woke up in Hà Giang, causing us to think twice about rolling out right away. Yet, by the time we were ready it abated to a sprinkle. We would grab a quick bite and hit the road.

At breakfast we saw the same crew of Vietnamese that were at lunch in Mèo Vạc. They were going south back to Hanoi. This being Monday was the last day of the long holiday weekend. But out on the wide boulevards of Hà Giang a few westerners were practice driving their Minks. We were not the only fortunate ones that were still out on the road playing.

From what the map said this would be the longest mileage day so far. We wanted to go all the way to Sa Pa on faster roads with a more direct path. Zig-zagging up north near the border of China would be more scenic but Manu got word from friends who were there a few days prior that 25km’s of those roads are really muddy. Muddy, slow and long was not what we wanted. So we drove south then straight west, as opposed to south then north then south then north then finally south.

At least that was what most of us were thinking.

Up this point whenever we’d come to a three-way intersection without a positive idea as to which way to turn, we would wait for the others to arrive, consult the map, ask for directions and finally pick a road.

So when Kay never showed up at the intersection of Highway 279 and National Highway 2-where we needed to head west, we got a little concerned. She didn’t go north back there into the zig-zagging route did she? You don’t think she crashed behind us, do you?

No, she hadn’t. Kristi remembered that Kay was in front and instead of stopping kept going….south. South is the direction of Hanoi.

Maybe she would figure this out shortly and come back. This is what we thought would happen so instead all of us waiting, just Mandy and I would stay and the others would go on.

40 minutes later she called and said that she’s 50Km south and would immediately come back. Whew! At least she was safe. Relieved I took the chance to have the Minsk looked at. Getting to this point on the fourth day, the Belarussian beast was really sluggish and of course I was still being pushed-started.

It took the mechanics about 20 minutes to surmise that the transformer that I replaced back in Hanoi was a junker Chinese made model. A few more minutes of ripping the old and installing the new and “wa-la”, it fired on the fist kick! A great promise for the rest of the day.

Meanwhile, Mandy was getting to know a local family who had lived for a few years in Germany. The man of the house spoke German and from what I can tell was glad to be practicing that language again.

This getting to know the locals became a regular occurrence hereafter and it took on this form: Motorbike breaks down. We push or pull bike to the nearest repair shop. Locals would gather around to see the foreigners, offer advice and/or just practice English. In return, we get our bikes fixed, learn about the local produce, learn about the roads ahead and learn about a couple of the local customs or sayings.

Like the one that goes something like, “In a perfect world a man gets to have Chinese food regularly prepared by a Japanese wife all the while living in a house of German design.” We can understand the Chinese food remark because this area is near southern China, which is known for its food. When asked about why a Japanese wife, the answers came back with a look as if to say,” Don’t you know that Japanese women have manners and that they respect their husbands?” Kay, being Japanese may have thought, “No!” but never said so. As for a German house, maybe any house from the west is better than a Vietnamese house.

We heard this for the first time from the German Việt Kièu man while waiting for Kay and shortly thereafter from another man who owns a repair shop about 40km’s away. We had stopped off there to let our motorbikes cool and get them washed. His sons were more than obliging. They were down right hospitable. They didn’t have fresh coffee but brought out hot water when I told him I was carrying some instant 3 and 1 VinaCafe. Then they washed our bikes and replaced Kay’s basket that broke off from her asphalt skirmish the day before.

The eldest son works for an insurance company. The middle one goes to law school in Lào Cai, 40km’s ahead. And the youngest is not yet done with high school.

Some time ago I read that with an emerging middle-class society there needs to be a sense of hope, hope of prosperity. Here, between Phố Ràng and Lào Cai, while waiting for our bikes to dry, sipping coffee and laughing with this family, I too got this sense of hope.

You may be wondering though why we needed to cool our bikes off. So let’s back up a little bit.

After Kay returned and after the Minsk got fixed we came across a long section of muddy roads slowing our progress tremendously. Then we stopped to have lunch in Phố Ràng, a junction from where we would turn north-west.

What we found next though was what the guys on Top Gear would call “a ribbon of perfection”, a 30km section of banking twists and turns along a river that allowed full throttle acceleration. If I had audio of this drive it would sound something like this:

“Wheeeeeeeee-into corner.Kut, kut.-out of corner. Whee.Kut. Wheeeee.Kut.Wheeeeeeee!”

At last I felt like a motorbike driver for the Minsk was running in tip-top condition. And the stop to let the bikes cool was just as much to stop for us to catch our breaths. It was that fun!

Getting to Lào Cai after this brief rest with the three sons continued to be fast and furious for the roads continued to be wide and well paved. And since the very first day of our journey we haven’t arrived at our destination until after dark. Today would be no different.

The stretch from Lào Cai to Sa Pa twists and turns up a steep hillside enveloped by clouds and torn apart in sections by road construction. Mandy expressed how this section of driving caused her the most stress. Visibility was terrible already as we came upon a particularly sketchy section of rough road. Here we had a choice of going up right or down to the left, both looking equally steep. To make matters worse there was a motorbike driver and his passenger, a local woman, screaming at each other. I went up and right in the panic with the idea that if I kept moving I wouldn't stall. But I did stall in the deep gravel of a dead end. You know how in the US on steep roads there are run-out sections full of deep sand or gravel to help trucks make emergency stops? This pit was just like that with a visibility of maybe 10-15 feet.

Slowly I coasted back down, maneuvered left around the quarreling couple and slowly descended into the nebulous second choice. I again had to employee my left-handed, high/low beam technique, for the next bit while Kay and Mandy rode nearby offering extra illumination.

After a long period of extra careful driving we entered the town elated to have escaped injury this evening and happy that during the light of day to have interacted with some folks along the way.

Great Tour-Day Four from Linh Nguyen on Vimeo.

On the minskclubvietnam.com website, subtitled “everything you need to know about the Minsk in Vietnam”, there is an essay called “The Deal” that elucidates some of the truths of traveling in the countryside like:

Helmets are law and enforcement of wearing them is getting stricter. Make sure you carry rain weather gear….300 Kilometers is a long, long day.

We agree with all of these but the following rang very true on this fourth day of our motorbike tour:

There are Minks mechanics in all population centers. People in the countryside are very honest and helpful. Wave, smile and be friendly.

*Photographs courtesy of Daria Hagemann, Kristi Cruz and Kay Okamoto.
**Another note worth mentioning here. Unfortunately because the mileage for this day was so long, we didn't have much of a chance to take pictures or video. That is why this post is lacking visually. Granted the scenery wasn't as spectacular as the previous day but it still was beautiful.

The Great Northern Vietnam Motorbike Tour-Day Three

2010-05-19T10:31:00.000-07:00

We all awoke relatively early this morning anticipating an early start to the long day but eventually we rode out around 9:30am.

For breakfast in Bảo Lạc we discovered a phở shop worthy of mention. The proprietor is a third generation phở shop owner and originally hails from Nam Dịnh, a town attributed with the invention of the national dish. His broth was tasty yet clean and clear. The meats seemed fresh. And his meticulous preparation of each bowl bordered on artistry. We were impressed.

Asked why he chose to live in Bảo Lạc, he replied, “ The air and water is clean. There is much greenery around, as you can see. And the beef here is raised on grass. Everything I need for a proper bowl of phở.”

Fueled by this, we headed out of town and north to Mèo Vạc. It was going to be a long journey so Manu decided to go ahead to Hà Giang.

The provincial law states that if you are a foreigner traveling here you must acquire a permit. Whether that permit is required to be in Hà Giang or sleep in a hotel/homestay, we weren’t sure. Manu would get to the provincial capital first to sort things out, because that is the only place he knew of where to obtain this permit. If for any reason we couldn’t make it to the City of Hà Giang, he would back track to us with the permits. Besides, he drives much faster than we do, or at least much faster than my Mink's capabilities.

Highway 34 leaving Bảo Lạc goes all the way west to Hà Giang City. We would follow this though for only 8 kilometers before turning right onto a new bridge and up, and up and up on winding mountain roads above a steep river valley. At the top of this grade is the town of Mèo Vạc. And from there we intended on taking the lower of two scenic routes for the map showed that it was 20km shorter and not as winding.

The sky was cloudy and the air was cool, getting cooler also as we climbed up into the clouds. Then as the clouds turned into rain we again donned our rain ponchos.

Mandy stopped to help a group of locals-four to a motorbike lumbering up the steep grades, by taking one of the four. Kristi wanted to stop off and say “hi!” to fellow Hanoians also on a motorbike trip.

All the while the local indigenous folks began to appear on the roads, walking along it or farming the steep hillsides. The topography became much sharper. The mountains tops seemed almost pyramidal. I remember looking up a v-shaped canyon with about four or five hillsides descending down into it at a 60 degree angle. I think I was also looking in to China at this point.

Then the road leveled out for a bit as we crested a pass above the town of Mèo Vạc. Jagged limestone boulders and shorts cliffs were everywhere as well as more colorfully clad locals.

Soggy and a little bit chilled we drove down into town to grab coffee and lunch, to refuel. We saw a group of Vietnamese with trash bags covering luggage that were strapped to the backs of their motorbikes, obviously Hanoian, or city folks, out touring the countryside. We noticed also that the town was a little grubby which is no matter really because it did not feel touristy at all. Something we found very refreshing. Up here near the border of China in a corner of the country reached only by two days of bus riding or motorbike driving, we found a traveler’s paradise.

Consequently, It took us 2 hours to drive the next 25 km, for around every corner was a new vista and new locals to chat up. Daria heard that the locals here are very poor so she purchased notebooks and pens to giveaway. At one of these pull outs we met a group of kids and sometime afterwards we discovered that we were on the upper loop road, the further section. Still it was stunning. I’ll let these images speak for themselves.

Great Tour-Day Three from Linh Nguyen on Vimeo.

For a while there everything was going smoothly, even with an increase in road traffic. I was still behind everyone but keeping my pace nicely, not falling too far back. Then horror struck.

I drove up to a corner to find, Kristi and Luke parked off the side the road next to a fallen Honda Dream and a fallen Kay Okamoto. Minutes earlier trying to avoid a speeding motorbike coming uphill at her, Kay veered right and hit some gravel. She slid out into a ditch with the bike landing on top of her left side. Let’s just say we were very relieved when she stood up and walked off the road for medical treatment administered by Luke and Daria. What happened to her could’ve happened to any of us. Luckily Kay is a tough cookie.

Our scare and her cuts and bruises made us all a great deal more careful for the rest of that day. And would you believe it if I told you that not one other corner after that had as much gravel as the one she slid out in? Yes, I looked!

Anyway, Kristi took over for Kay for the rest of the drive towards Hà Giang, which was no easy task. Clouds began to shroud the ridge tops, where the road wound, and then soon afterwards the light began to fade. Visibility got really poor, slowing our progress on the twisting and turning roads, up and down the small passes.

The Minsk, as you may have already guessed wasn’t in perfect condition, it does have a headlight but no high and low beams. It only has one beam that only got brighter upon high engine rev, making my entrances into blind corners with clutch engaged and throttle on high so I could see clearly. During the straights when free of fog, I would reach forward to adjust the beam up onto the road ahead. When it was foggy, I would tilt the headlight down. This was my version of high/low beams-my left hand and a loose headlamp.

I think we arrived in Hà Giang around 8:30 pm. Manu was waiting at the hotel having had arrived a couple hours earlier. Again we were all tired but managed to meet up for a dinner of hotpot with mushrooms and noodles, over which we recounted about a day filled with incredible landscapes, tough riding conditions and a little bit of a fright.

*Photographs courtesy of Daria Hagemann, Kristi Cruz and Kay Okamoto.

The Great Northern Vietnam Motorbike Tour-Day Two

2010-05-18T07:06:00.000-07:00

This second day happened to be a bit more epic.

In the planning stages, I had consulted with my friend Dutch about logistical connections from town to town and determined that a boat ride on Ba Be Lake then a boat ride down river before hitting a road going north to Ha Giang province should be the route for the day. So this was our aim.

The boat ride on the lake was spectacular. The scenery felt alpine with precipitous hillsides but the vegetation was definitely rain forest. The air was cool and the water mostly clean. Some of us even hung our still wet laundry out to dry, for the night before thundershowers tore through the valley. This night-time rain would later haunt us.

At the end of the first boat ride, we landed at the top of a waterfall from where we rode down to a damn at the bottom of the fall to catch another boat to go further down river. But there were no boats running this bottom section, at least no boat big and safe enough on this day. What happened was that the water level was too low. Two days prior the bigger boats were making transports here but the damn hadn’t let out enough water since. Folks that were running the ferries today were using small boats and didn’t deem it safe to transport even one motorbike through the shallow and narrow bends. We were seven people with six motorbikes.

It’s fair to say that this day was the most unpredictable day of our journey. Manu hadn’t been on the roads we were planning and definitely not the river journey we were on.

So with our tails between our legs we boarded another boat to go back up river to take another road north. They say though that every misfortune creates opportunity.

This misstep allowed us to head straight north to the most scenic, not my words by the way, roads in all of Vietnam. (You will all have to wait for the next posting for those pics and video.)

But before going directly north we were lost along these roads above Ba Be Lake. The map showed that they were paved but anyone traveling these northern roads knows that Vietnam maps are of the future this country, a promise made by the government or whomever to show infrastructure development, not the present.

It was slow going on these gravel mountain roads and construction zones. Manu even went down in an especially muddy section. Then a wrong turn brought us back to within 4 km of the guesthouse where we stayed the night before. The time was 2:30pm and we hadn’t even eaten lunch!

Over our meal, we decided that we would push on north to Mèo Vạc or stop off at Bảo Lạc if it got too late. We would have to surmount Mount Pia Oắc and then descend down to Bảo Lạc. The distance to be covered after our meal was 100 km, with only 2 hours of daylight and an average speed of 20-25km per hour due to the steep grades and poor conditioned roads. Going up was slow and going down was even slower for the rains began to fall just as the sun was setting into the blackness of night. The last 2.5-3 hours were glacially slow and treacherously slippery.

Great Tour-Day Two from Linh Nguyen on Vimeo.

My Minsk motorbike at this time began to show its failings. I couldn’t kick start it any longer and had to plan my stops at the top of grades so that I could coast down and bump start. At a flat section I stalled after a section of big potholes to wait for others and couldn’t restart. Mandy had to push me a few times before I was able to resume, a precursor to the remainder of the trip. Bless her heart!

Needless to say I missed the beautiful sunset earlier at the top of the mountain where the roads were flat. Also, being the slowest of the motorbikes in terms of performance, I didn’t want the others to have to wait for me anymore than they already were so I kept driving whenever I could. I was the tortoise that slowly inched along while the others were rabbits continually passing me and then stopping for directions.

We rolled into to Bảo Lạc around 9:30pm knackered and wet. Mandy complained about bed bugs. Luke and Kristi just passed out after showering. And the others got hungry and found some porridge, even though Manu hates porridge.

I was hoping that this was going to be the worse day of the trip but we’ll see.

*Photographs courtesy of Daria Hagemann, Kristi Cruz and Kay Okamoto.

The Great Northern Vietnam Motorbike Tour-Day One

2010-05-16T21:25:00.000-07:00

People often ask me why, upon finding out where I was born, I chose to live up here in Hanoi as opposed to down south. I don’t speak the northern dialogue. It’s cold here in the winter and too hot in the summer.

I simply answer that at least 5 months out the year the weather is cool enough to wear a sweater, long pants and shoes. I can understand northerners perfectly well and if they work at it a little they can understand me too. But maybe the most important reason for living in Hanoi is the city’s accessibility to amazing scenery. And, other than a boat tour to Ha Long Bay, the best way to take in this scenery is to go touring on motorbikes, an activity followed by northerners, Vietnamese and expats alike, with religious fervor.

Up until recently, my motorbike trips have been 2-3 days with at least one rest day thrown in. A good handful of us went up to Ba Be National Park last September and then in November a few of us took a shorter tour down to Cuc Phuong National Park. But none of us had taken on the great big tours or the northwest, north and northeast, each of which takes something like 5 days to do properly.

Here is what happened on day one of nine.

This is our crew having dinner at our favorite guesthouse in Ba Be. To be honest it’s the only guesthouse any of us have ever slept at here but we like the proprietors so much that we decided to bed down here on this trip too.

Starting from the left front is Kay, my good friend from the US. Kay has not worked for almost a year, taking her own sweet time globetrotting. We were so glad that she decided to pay us a visit, adding enthusiasm and joy. Next is Mandy, my sweetheart-a German national working for a tour agency in Hanoi. Then that's me, in case you don't recognize me.

Across from me is Manu, fellow volleyballer and great logistical addition to our team. He's the only one of us who has experience with the roads further on. He loves the rice wine in the countryside. Then comes Kristi-English teacher, volleyballer and frequent tourer. We travelled together down to Cuc Phuong National Park last fall. To her left is Luke, her boyfriend and CIA agent. Can't say to much more about him just yet. He won't allow me to, but somehow, somewhere within this blog he will be exposed.

The person taking the photo is Daria. You might know her from the first trip to Ba Be, the Cuc Phuong tour and many other fun things that have happened here in Hanoi. She's usually the instigator of such adventures. She's Swiss and works for the UN on behalf of Vietnam's Women's issues. She is driving the Honda Win that was purchased down in Thanh Hoa.

We started early from Hanoi, going north, to avoid the holiday traffic. On this day, May 30, 2010, Vietnam celebrated its 35 years of reunification, a tainted day in US history as the “fall of Saigon”. Every bus stop overflowed with folks trying to get home for the long weekend. And by the time we got up to the city of Thai Nguyen, the streets began to empty.

Another few hours of driving on beautiful country roads led to Ba Be National Park with its beautiful lake. The last time here we approached the park in darkness and were not able savor the scenery. The highlight of this day for me was seeing the entrance of the Lake from the south end in the afternoon sun.

We got to Hoa Son guesthouse with plenty of time to swim in the lake, check on our motorbikes and have a leisurely dinner before bedding down.

Other than the first few hours out of Hanoi, this was an uneventful day, the last eventful day until the end of the trip.

*Photos courtesy of Kriti Cruz, Kay Okamoto and Daria Hagemann

Catfish Adventures

2010-05-13T19:22:00.000-07:00

Hanoi is made up of many communities and I am lucky enough be acquainted with folks from almost every one of them. My friends Daria and Christophe work for the UN. Luke works for the US embassy and Raffa’s father is the Moroccan Ambassador. There are the folks that teach English and those that work for NGO’s who I call friends.

Then there is a group of journalists here in Hanoi that serve as correspondents for local publications as well as world re-known news agencies like the Associated Press and NPR. Mike Ives, a good friend, is a Hanoi-based freelance reporter who contributes stories to US based newspapers. He, as far as I’m concerned, is the most well traveled of all my friends here in Hanoi.

Within the last 8 months he was in Laos for what seemed like 2 months and spent almost just as much time in China chasing stories. So, when he came up with an idea, an excuse really, to go down to the southern delta of Vietnam to research a story about the catfish industry he called me to duty.

The object of the story is to travel down there and learn about the aquaculture of this controversial fish and get an insider/local perspective. I would play fixer, translator and photographer. We would stay in my ancestral home. And we would eat incredible food.

First stop was Saigon or Ho Chi Minh City. I met up with Mike at the heart of the city to begin our journey west on the local buses. And going local in this mode would flavor our entire journey. And as we opened a window while the bus careened down highway 1 the tropical air pelted us with oven hot dust and occasionally washed us in cool, damp breezes wafting from the ever-present swampy rice fields. Four hours later we found ourselves in my hometown, An Hũu, where we rested and prepared for dinner.

And what was on the menu you might ask? Catfish, of course! And if you thought that we’d have a crazy variety of preparations for the fish you’d be wrong, like I was wrong expecting the same.

The Catfish from this province, Tiền Giang, is called “Tre” and it’s mostly farmed in small lakes. It is white skinned, tender and seemingly fragile. Think of a fatty trout and you would be getting the idea of its texture. It is too fragile to fry unless it is battered.

To cook it my relatives either make a sweet and sour soup, “canh chua”, or they stew it in a clay pot with lots of broth/juice called “cá kho tọ”. The two dishes in combination is, believe me, delicious and inseparable, like a hamburger with fries or eggs with bacon. The soup is sweet from the pineapple and the fish. It is also sour from the tamarind and tomatoes. There is a little bitterness from the bean sprout ends, the okra and the taro stems. The clay pot stew brings the umami flavors from the caramelizing of sugar with fish sauce. The Vietnamese word for this strong flavor is “mặn”, which means savory. And this is the exact meaning of umami.

Here are a couple pictures of one of those meals, lunch at my relative’s land where he farms logan and rents out a small lake to a company that farms catfish. Or should I say rented.

Catfish as a commodity declined within the last couple years due to an American economic policy of domestic business protection, where at one time the US accounted for 75% of Vietnam’s catfish export market. Apparently the low cost of Vietnamese catfish were putting the hurt on catfish farmers in the Southern US. Now his little lake sits empty except for a few dozen fishes that the family consumes. Normally it is filled with 175,000 “Tre”. In Tiền Giang Province catfish farming has declined as much as 50%.

To get to his farm from my hometown, my second uncle picked us up in his long boat and took us thru a tranquil maze of waterways across the most easterly of the Mekong River branches. The water was cool. The air was refreshing. And the tropical sun was searing. We hid as much as we could underneath our hats from the midday sun trying to savor each shady spot provided by overgrown mango or avocado trees. But crossing the mighty Mekong exposed us to the scorching sun, luckily the increase in boat speed helped. Near my hometown during what is called “summer” the heat can be unrelenting like it is anywhere in the world just before a downpour of thunder showers.

Further up the Mekong River and butted up to the border of Cambodia is the town of Châu Dốc in the province of An Giang, the epicenter of catfish farming in Vietnam. So prosperous was the industry at one time that the local government, with donations from the big catfish processing houses, erected this stainless steel sculpture on a park overlooking the river and its floating farms.

The catfish produced here is called Ba Sa. Unlike it’s cousin down stream, the Ba Sa cannot be farmed in non-moving waters. Instead of lakes these are contained within nets under floating houses on the river. And when the water is low a boat motor is employed to keep the river effect flowing.

Ba Sa, from what we learned, is the only fish in these parts that cannot reproduce in captivity. They are caught up stream in Cambodia and then raised contained. Then six or eight months later they go to market, which in this case means they go to the processing houses where they are filleted and their carcasses sold back to the local community under the cover of night in the wee hours of the morning.

When asked about why catfish is so much more popular than the other fishes, the answers reverb with health benefits, taste and ease of farming. Apparently they have the good fats for reducing cholesterol. This fat also makes them tasty and tender. There are much fewer allergic reactions from eating of these catfish. And one holding or one small lake can yield almost 300,000 fish a year at a price of 10,000 to 13,000 VND per kilo, .50 to .75 cents per kilo, amounting close to $125,000 annually.

Not bad when the overhead is something like $60 a month for labor, $800 for rental space if using someone else’s land and $15,000 to $20,000 for feed.

“An Giang is rich all thanks to the Ba Sa!” said our boat driver and one time Ba Sa house-boat worker. He also said that we should sample the local Ba Sa specialty dish-Lẩu Mắm Châu Đóc. This is Châu Đóc style hot pot made with the pungent soup base of salted, fermented fish….stuff, probably the fish head-spine-tail left over from the processing factories.

Here in Châu Đóc the Ba Sa is a little bit more robust than the Tre in Tiền Giang. It gets fried, boiled and steamed. They make sausages out of it too. A local, friend of my cousin, who was showing us around, said that the factories innovated all these new dishes for their buyers.

And like these buyers, Mike and I sat and feasted on the Ba Sa hotpot while looking up at pictures of the many different dishes made from the fish. The hot and humid air-of the tropics and of the boiling cauldron, was tempered by the oscillating fan. Mike’s ice cold Bia Saigon and my Coke on ice also helped to softened the blow of the heat.

Our local friend mentioned that only thing missing was a special herb that is commonly dipped into the hot pot. “It helps round out the sharp savory flavors of the mắm when in season.” He said.

It was no matter to me. We had traveled deep into the delta, hung out with my family and ate incredibly well, all the while learning about this region’s economy from one its most prized produce.

Catfish Adventures from Linh Nguyen on Vimeo.

Here are some sights and sounds of the delta.

Son's Hometown

2010-05-12T01:18:00.000-07:00

Just recently returned from a big motorbike trip but I really need to post up a few stories leading up to this trip otherwise it will overshadow everything prior.

So, I went down south of Hanoi at the announcement from my friend Son that there is a Honda Win for sale by his neighbor in his hometown.

And, we’ll start our first Vietnamese lesson now with the word “quê”, which means native place or hometown. As in the often-asked question, “Quê của bạn ỏ đâu?” Or, “Where is your hometown?”

Son’s hometown is south of Hanoi about 160km, next to the ocean in the gulf of China near the beach resort of Sam Son.

We went down there to purchase this motorbike, a Japanese made, semi-off road bike that we would use for motorbike tours here in the north. It’s for my friend Daria but when she moves back to Switzerland next year I hope to take it over.

These bikes are now the ubiquitous vehicles for workers in the countryside. So popular they are that there are now many different variations and models. The highest of quality are those originally made in Japan, then come Thai and Indonesian models with the Vietnamese and Chinese being the cheapest.

We spent two days to retrieve this because it’s a Japanese model and because Son wanted to visit with his new-born son.

My friend Son works next door to my local coffee shop in Hanoi as a coffee shop manager. He only returns home once a month and hasn’t spent too much time there since his son was born in January. Needless to say it was a fun trip if not a little too exciting as we drove the motorbike back to Hanoi via National Highway 1, a total death trap.

Here is a little video of Son’s hometown, quê của Sơn.

Thanh Hoa from Linh Nguyen on Vimeo.

When you come to Vietnam for a visit or if you happen to be staying here, don't hesitate to take up offers from Vietnamese friends to visit their hometown. To Vietnamese, their hometown is a sacred place. It is where they were born and where their relatives live. And, it defines them.

For instance, Son's father and father-in-law were both soldiers in the northern army. Their homes are adorned with pictures of them in officer regalia, which I don't see very often in Hanoi. And, once I returned and after asking some questions about Thanh Hoa, I learned that this area of the country was where the revolution to expel westerners began.

So what started out as a trip to purchase a motorbike ended up being a journey to a friend's homeland to glimpse back at Vietnam's history.

Hanoi Ridazz

2010-03-28T21:48:00.000-07:00

Many of you by now have heard of Critical Mass, those raucous bike rides all over the country where cyclists try to take back their urban streets. I don't need to mention that those streets were never really made for bicyclist in the first place. So, what ensued was years of ill-feelings between motorists and these seemingly anarchistic folks on human powered machines. In fact, this political battle is still being waged out in many cities, even the ones that are "bike friendly".

Anyway, Hanoi is not one of these "bike friendly" cities. Not even close. Actually in the pavement food chain, those on bicycles are like plankton-insignificant fodder. Motorbikes are on the next rung up, then taxis, private cars, buses and then construction vehicles. As you can see, the bigger your mode of transportation the less respect you have on those smaller.

So, it's best to watch out, be defensive and literally "roll with it". That's what the original pioneers of LA's Midnight Ridazz did when they began their first-Friday bike rides. They started way after rush hour when the streets have died down of traffic and rode around for fun. The stops were either food or alcohol related. What began as a small group of close-knit friends grew to monthly rides averaging 1,000 people!

This is one of many things that I miss about LA. And that is why I started Hanoi's own Midnight Ridazz calling it Hanoi Ridazz-to have a fun time with friends riding around on our bikes. Here is a map of our first ride on March 12th, 2010:

This was also info on one side of the spoke card and this below was the info on the opposite side:

As you can see from the map the ride took us thru some of the more scenic highlights of Hanoi. We began at the Opera House then rode by the Lenin Statue and Flag Tower, by the Ho Chi Minh Mausoleum, up to West Lake, next to the Citadel, thru the Old Quarter, around Hoan Kiem Lake twice and then down thru the center of town to Thien Quang Lake.

We stopped for "refreshments" twice-once on Truc Bac Lake and then at Thien Quang Lake. Actually it was a BYOB affair all provided by Luke and Kristi. While Luke drove his Big Dummy Extracycle, Kristi sat on the back passing out beers to everyone riding along with us and to a few motorbikers.

The night was cool and humid, and as we pedaled thru the streets we were warmed by the slight effort and by each others company. Here are shots of our crew that night on the initial Hanoi Ridazz ride.

Meeting in front of the Hanoi Opera House. This is Luke and his Extracycle.

Hien came kitted up in his roadie outfit and his very new Cannondale road bike.

Riding thru the streets with Kristi passing out beers. If you knew of the lawlessness here in Hanoi, drinking a beer while riding a bicycle is very tamed by comparison.

And, how about this for a motlie crew?

That's Erin, Mandy, Me, Wolfram and Andreas. And this is the entire group.

We plan to do this every second Friday of the month, so join us if you can.

Tet-Year of the Tiger, part 2

2010-02-26T00:01:00.000-08:00

The countryside however is teaming with motorbikes. Since public and private buses for the most part are on holiday too, it is much easier to take one’s motorbike home. Here is a little video I shot as my cousin and I were making our way to our hometown in the countryside west of Saigon. Notice the other newly urbanized Vietnamese also going back home loaded with gifts for their family.

Going Home from Linh Nguyen on Vimeo.

This video is of us going further into the canals of the delta to a relative’s orchard for Tet lunch. My Aunt and Uncle are here with their two daughters, my cousins, and son in laws as well as their grandson. My Dad is here too.

Going to Tet Lunch from Linh Nguyen on Vimeo.

All in all it was a very fun experience eating and visiting with my family. The last time I was in Vietnam for Tet was 1975.....It's been a long journey home!

Saigon Tet from Linh Nguyen on Vimeo.

This last video is of festive Saigon on the second night of Tet-the Year of the Tiger.
However last year was for all of us, may the New Year bring us all a new prosperity and find us in good health.

Tet-Year of the Tiger, part 1

2010-02-25T23:39:00.000-08:00

Tet is a very auspicious time for Vietnamese. This culture is steeped in superstition and reverence for the past, so a chance to do right and start anew is taken very seriously.

In preparing for the New Year, flowers and good luck ornaments cover the entire country, from city to countryside. Yellow flowers of Hoa Mai, cherry blossoms and kumquat trees are for sale everywhere. It is not just tradition to go out and look at these temporary orchards, but it is also mandatory to purchase one for decorating your house in welcoming good fortune for the New Year.

These are photos of the flower market in Da Nang. (I stopped off here and Hoi An on my way south to wish my friends a Happy New Year.)

Here is picture of my buddy Frank, a fellow Hanoian on vacation in the south, at the New Year Flower Festival in downtown Saigon, being like other Vietnamese celebrating the Year of the Tiger.

Another tradition. and a recent tradition at that, is making ones way home for Tet. What I mean by a recent one is that urbanization is a relatively new phenomenon for Vietnam. When I first came back 13 years ago, the population was 70% rural. Now it’s more like 40-50% urban. Check out how empty the streets of Saigon and Hanoi are during the week of Tet.

I was thinking that Saigon was the most livable I had ever seen it-hardly any traffic, you could stroll on the sidewalks and there was a cool breeze at night. The temperature was only hot enough to make it two-showers per day as opposed to four-showers during the summer.

To be continued.....

Maratet

2010-02-25T00:58:00.000-08:00

Right before Tet, the Lunar New Year, a couple good friends organized an all day scavenger hunt, to get us all into the spirit of Tet. It was to be teams of two going around the city collecting pictures from a list that would prove difficult, to say the least. Only one team out of 40 completed the task with some shenangans.

We were to take a picture of a live tiger, to commemorate the Year of the Tiger. Since the event took place on the day when the Kitchen Gods give heaven reports of how good each and everyone of us were that past year, we had to document this as well. This came to form thru the burning of effigy or of the releasing of gold fish into a body of water. Also, we had to get a picture of Ong Do, a calligrapher, who this time of year is found all over the city painting black ink onto red canvases words of wisdom for the New Year. There was even a picture that we needed to take with a long haired Vietnamese man, a tourist, a shoe shine boy AND a girl on her Vespa. This was the hardest! But a few teams did manage, one by chance and one by pure group organizational skills. We had to translate a Vietnamese poem about the New Year and record a New Year story told by a native Hanoian. Here are couple of those pictures from our team, which was a threesome, made up of Kim-on the right, for the morning shift and Mandy for the afternoon trip. We decided to ride bikes the entire day.

This took us all over the city. Kim and I rode north over the Long Bien Bridge to look for a picture of Uncle Ho then we went west to the zoo to look for the tiger. But neither trips were successful so we had lunch with Daria, who was leaving for Switzerland-her home, for vacation. Next we rode over to the Temple of Literature for pictures of the Calligraphers. For the spirit of the Kitchen Gods we went back east to Hoan Kiem Lake. Then Kim had to head off for a work party and Mandy rode over to take her place. With Mandy, I rode all over the backpacking section of the Old Quarter looking for room 23, with no avail. Lastly, we heard that somewhere up north there is a place where lovers paint love notes to each other on a long stretch of wall overlooking West Lake. So, we circumnavigate the lake on our bikes in search of the most illusive point of interest on the list-an I love U stencil. But this too deemed too difficult. 20+ kilometers later we found ourselves at the closing party for this Maratet-marathon Tet, event.

Maratet from Linh Nguyen on Vimeo.

In the end we had eight of the 11 tasks completed, rode 45 kilometers, drank about 4 cups of coffee at various places in the city, saw the zoo for the first time, rode over Long Bien Bridge for the first time and rode around West Lake for the first time....And yes! By the end I was looking forward to Tet-Vietnam's biggest holiday.

Tam Dao

2010-01-11T10:25:00.000-08:00

Shortly after the New Year begun I got a chance to go up the mountains just north of the city. A good friend of mine designed and built a beautiful house set into the hillside of this Hanoian mountain retreat and a few of us motorbiked up to get some mountain air, to start the New Year off on a good note.

Leading this small pack is Duc-bar owner, artist, art patron, journalist and business consultant. Born in South Vietnam, he spent his formative years in Danang and Hue, eventually immigrating to the US. After 16 years there and 16 years traveling the world as a reporter he finally made it back to Vietnam three years ago. This time for good. I'm riding tandem with him and it is to his house that we are visiting.

The other friend riding along side is Frank-Asian bureau chief of AFP, currently visiting from Tokyo where he and his Vietnamese wife and son reside after having have lived here for three years. And because he's lived here in the north, like many of us, he loves to tour the countryside on motorbikes. His choice is a Bellarussian stalwart Minsk.

Duc on the other hand has a beast of a Russian bike made by a company called Ural. Here they are. Don't they look like a couple of Hell's Angels? LA Rubbies, rich-urban-bikers, wished they looked this cool!

Tam Dao is about 90 kilometers north of Hanoi and it sits almost at 3,000 feet. In the summer it offers quite a respite from the heat in the valley and Duc chose this location for exactly that reason. A couple years ago he bought a piece of land and built a great place where he can come to rest and be inspired. Let's just say he did a really good job. Frank and I were truly inspired.

The property looks down a valley towards the south. Since it's currently winter the hillsides were intermittently shrouded in clouds and blustered by a cool wind. Inside, the house is spaciously designed like a New York loft, but just beyond the floor to ceiling wall of glass you step into a pool with an infinite edge. I'm sure it's great during the hot summer days but I was really glad that inside the big room he had a fireplace. Here we sat getting warm, getting used to the silence and getting Hanoi out of our minds.

Behind the main room is a subterranean courtyard, complete with a koi pond and fire pit. While we waited for another friend, Duc ordered a chicken and we did what men do best. We roasted the chicken in the fire pit, having it as a late lunch/early dinner.

A couple of phone calls and a couple of hours later Dutch arrived on his bike after having ridden 11 hours. Dutch, as David is known, has spent many a days traveling up down the roads of northern Vietnam. A constant traveler, he only works enough so that he can travel. And being based out of Bangkok as an information system consultant, he comes to Vietnam regularly. I was amazed about how much he new of this country and got some great tips on where else I can go to explore.

So the rest of the night and the next day we spent talking about trips taken and places still to visit. Duc expressed that he's finally found a place to call home for a while. Frank is trying to make his way back, saying he is working way too hard and missing Vietnam tremendously. Dutch said all he has to do is check his email when he's back in Hanoi to know if he can stay "in country" a while longer. As for me, if my first days are spent with great friends in a great place like this getting all kinds of special inspirations, I know it's going to be a great year.

Here's a video I shot of our experience.

Tam Dao from Linh Nguyen on Vimeo.

For more about Duc's place, check out this New York Times article.

http://www.nytimes.com/2008/11/28/greathomesanddestinations/28iht-vietnam.html

Happy New Year

2010-01-04T15:22:00.000-08:00

Shortly before the New Year I found this 1966 Vespa and couldn't pass it up. It is a little bit of a cliche for an expat to be driving these, given that nostalgia and all that is what brought us back. But, if you know me, vintage Italian or vintage whatever has always been akin to my heart. And, I've been following my heart quite a bit lately. In doing so, I experienced extreme highs and the lowest of lows this past year.

Finally realizing my dream of moving back here was one of those extreme highs. Selling off most of my belongs and moving out of my apartment was really sad but then attending all of those going away parties with all of my friends more than made up for it. I was even lucky enough to spend time with my nieces in Tuoloumne Meadows-one of our favorite places in our little world, before moving over.

On the day that I flew out though, I heard about the passing of my good friend John Bachar. John was a mentor who fully supported this transition and one that I very much looked forward to sharing this new experience with. Luckily my last conversation with him was one of those highs. He was overflowing with compliments and well wishes as we said our goodbyes, knowing that it would be a while before we saw each other but not knowing that we never would again. I've been missing him tremendously the last half of 2009.

Which brings us back to this blog, or whatever you want to call it. This is what I've been doing the last six months-running around the north of Vietnam with all my friends, new and old alike. Living the dream as my good buddy Brad always says. I've been on three motorbike tours, four Ha Long Bay climbing trips, three Hoi An visits and one Ninh Binh recon mission. All along the way there was great food. I've gotten to know Hanoi really well and have made some new really good friends. This was all expected and welcomed.

What I also knew would happen but was not looking forward to was the passing of my Mom, making it my lowest moment of the year. (see the posting....Tin Buon.)

As for the New Year, I've got great adventures planned again. I promise to write more about my life in Hanoi to give you a more detailed, insider's view of the place. I promise to introduce you to all my friends here too. I have to start working again this year so I'll let you know how that goes. Oh yeah! I'll let you know about Tet in Vietnam, which will take me back to my home town in the South. A place I haven't been to yet since coming back to Vietnam. And Tet is the Vietnamese New Year. Luckily for me, if I cannot make a good go of it in the Gregorian New Year, I have a chance to start up again in the Lunar New Year.

One thing for sure, I will accept the ups and the downs as gracefully as I did in 2009.

Hue and Hai Van Pass

2009-12-28T01:45:00.000-08:00

These are two places that I haven't visited in quite a while-something like 3 or 4 years. And, Hue was where the overnight train led us.

Hue is one of Vietnam's ancient capitals serving as its imperial seat since the early 1800's. Here a citadel was built containing the Purple City-Vietnam's version of the Forbidden City. Also, the countryside surrounding the town is speckled with temples and mausoleums. The later of which either pays tribute to one of the emperors or serves as another's resting place. These, and taking a boat tour of the Perfume River, are the tourist attractions. When I was last here I signed up for the King's Mausoleum tour and found it rather enjoyable.

But this time I figured it would be more fun to get a map, rent motorbikes and tour these sites ourselves, with the opportunity to get lost and engage with the locals being the added bonus. Here is a little of that scenery. The highlight of which was one of the river crossings where the local ferry/boat, transported the lot of us and our motorbikes across the Perfume River. (The music is by Charlie Yoon.)

Hue 12/09 from Linh Nguyen on Vimeo.

The weather was perfect-nice and moderate during the day and warm at night. We spent most of our time off the motorbikes walking around the city down near the parks that line the riverbanks. As Joel and Jorge were fond of saying, "this place is so romantic!"

Equally romantic was Hai Van Pass, down above the city of Danang. A place that I've often referred to as the Big Sur of Vietnam. The Pass is, to quote Jeremy Clarkson of Top Gear, "a ribbon of perfection" winding its way above the hills overlooking the South China Sea.

At one time this was the only way to travel to the north from the south and vice versa, over the Truong Son Mountains, as I found on my first trip back in 1996. It was a treacherous journey for all tourist buses and semi-trucks alike because Vietnamese drivers are not known for their patience of standing in line, any line. Now they've built a 3 kilometer tunnel thru the mountain leaving the Hai Van Pass road nearly deserted but for a few tour buses, locals and adventure seekers like us. Check it out.

Hai Van Pass from Linh Nguyen on Vimeo.

We left Hoi An around 10:30 am after a night of drinking where Joel and Ric preceded to take over the bar of a local restaurant making drinks for everyone, including the other guests. 10:30 was a little late by my estimates but we braved on making it back to the outskirts of Hoi An as darkness fell.

This map shows our route thru Danang, a critical navigational tool if you were make the trip yourselves. We kind of weaved and bop our way thru the up-and-coming metropolis on the way out and found the much easier path on the return.

If you're traveling thru Vietnam and do make it down to the Central region, do visit Hue's monuments and do opt for a drive over Hai Van Pass, whether it be on a tour bus or rented motorbike.

Traveling Mishaps

2009-12-25T16:24:00.000-08:00

Just recently Joel, Jorge and Natalia came over from the US for a little traveling. So, it is completely appropriate to show them the sites. First on the list is the gorgeous Ha Long Bay area.

Now a thing about traveling. It is often said that the journey makes the trip and not so much the destination. Well, I have to say that getting there is half the battle and if you are lucky you will happen upon some great adventures, as was the case with us.

Getting from Hanoi out to Cat Ba Island is really a chore. Normally we would have about four transport transfers from big bus to little bus to speed boat to little bus until we get to the town of Cat Ba. But, this being the winter season and in a country that is in constant flux, I was thrown off course a wee bit. Our normal big bus let us off in the middle of Hai Phong City where upon we had to hike out to the ferry terminal-a local ferry that takes us directly into Cat Ba town. Now you're saying, "that sounds convenient!" I was thinking of the same thing but upon seeing the ferry boat for the first time, I was kind of nervous. There was this mad rush of humanity along with livestock, motorbikes and hug bags of goods, including fresh rice noodles. To say the boat was packed is an understatement. Stuffy doesn't begin to describe it.

Luckily we found ourselves out on the bow of the boat where at least there would be constant airflow. Here we found other westerners looking for the same thing. (In fact, this was where we met Ric and Deanne and asked them to join us on our adventure.)

As the boat motored out of the harbor and out to sea more locals came up front to get some fresh air, and we, really my friends minus me-being a normal yellow face, became a curiosity. Serving as interpreter I helped the two groups communicate:

"Where are you from?"
"How old are you?"
"Would you like a smoke of fresh tobacco from my bamboo pipe?"
"How about a taste of our home made rice whiskey?"

The first couple of questions were asked to find out if the westerners were friendly enough. Then, when it was determined that we were, the locals proceeded to get us drunk and high. These tobacco pipes are common everywhere in the north. They offer smokers a way of concentrating the tobacco flavor and potency. Ric attested to this. Then there was the whiskey which needs no explaining. Though, I will have to admit that I did indulge in the stuff. Normally the smell of this is so nasty that a mere whiff would send me overboard, but this didn't smell like turpentine. It was mildly alcoholic in aroma and just sweet enough going down. It was great and I later found out that because of this "great" taste many expats considered this the most dangerous of the local brew. Why? Because before you know it you're bent over the toilet regretting that you are an adventurer and cursing at the bedeviled natives who are trying to kill you.

This didn't happen of course to us but the stories of traveling expats getting completely smashed with the locals are legendary amongst the Hanoian community. I'm sure the local vietnamese are circulating the same such stories too.

Anyway, we had a really nice time out on the bay. I've been taking folks to this little beach with a bunch of bouldering. Nearby we could kayak through limestone archways or explore the little lagoons.

Cat Ba, Lan Ha, Ha Long Again from Linh Nguyen on Vimeo.

After getting back to Hanoi we immediately headed to the train station to catch the overnighter down to Hue, our next stop. This is where the next mishap occurred and it was entirely my fault.

Before leaving for Cat Ba it would've been smart to buy our train tickets but I figured that we'd have 4-5 hours to buy these before the train departed. But, 4-5 hours were not enough to get the soft sleeper cabins. These tickets were already sold out. We'd have to sit with everyone else in the coach lounge for.....10 hours. Now ten hours doesn't sound bad when you're flying half way around the world but 10 hours to just go 300 miles? I began to panic with the thought.

Luckily the others offered no criticism of me nor sympathy for me. They simply said, "if that is all they have left then we'll just go."

So we regrouped back at my house before returning to the train station later that night. Yet as we were walking out of the station I heard this loud and obnoxious local screaming into his mobile oblivious to others around him. I could tell he was drunk by the way he slouched in his seat and the way he was waving his hands wildly. And as we were waiting for a cab out in front of the station the lout came out front but this time not screaming as loudly. Maybe someone annoyed with him inside told him to go outside and talk? I don't know.

And when we got to our seats inside the train, minutes before it was to head south, who did I find across the aisle from me? From here on out I will refer to him as Native Son.

Son is a Hanoian. He was traveling south to look at some business prospects and see some old friends. And as we got to know him the misperceptions and the mild "coach" discomforts faded away and were replaced by the sense of adventure that all travelers get when they, as Joel and Jorge were fond of saying on this trip to Vietnam, "are deep!"

Here is Son making a newspaper cigarette.

Native Son from Linh Nguyen on Vimeo.

Let me clarify this next one. Son was in the army and from what he told us knows many patriotic songs. When he saw the group of sailors at the front of our cabin he asked if they had a guitar, apparently like all army troupes here do. He said, "since you're all going to sea I'll serenade you with a few songs."

What followed wasn't noisy locals annoying us like many do because to Vietnamese and many Asian societies, being loud with friends means they're having a good time and a good time needs to be shared.

Vietnam Railways from Linh Nguyen on Vimeo.

This to me was a great big epiphany. Traveling mishaps will push one's conventional boundaries towards, get closer to, those of the people and places you are traveling in.

Food and Americans

2009-12-18T21:46:00.000-08:00

Provocative, right? The title? Well, it's true in my world that Americans have made me a glutton.
I was looking forward to being back in Vietnam and eating healthy, fresh food. And, I was doing so well....until my American friends came over. Case in point. Have a look at these photos:

This is Elizabeth, former chef from San Francisco, at lunch-Com Binh Dan in Hanoi, which literally means "common people's food".

And here I am with Mike and Nancy at fancy Mango Rooms in Hoi An-excellent and original plates made from fresh local ingredients.

Here I am with Joel, Jorge, Ric and Deanne. The later two being newly adopted into the American eating family. This was lunch at the base of Hai Van pass. Another Com Binh Dan.

You see. All we do is eat. Sure there are the sights to see like Hue's ancient Citadel, Ha Long's amazing grottos and Hoi An's architecture, but each and every person has uttered the words, "what are we eating next?" And shortly thereafter complete carnage ensues.

This was lunch at Bale Well. A great local bbq place in Hoi An, where pork skewers, fried spring rolls and banh xeo-vietnamese crepes are served with a garden of fresh greens and rice paper to individually wrap and dip into a tangy, full-bodied fermented soybean sauce.

And this is what happens after the American invasion. Only if the American army had the ferocity of battle as the traveling Americans did with their devouring appetite of the vietnamese food.

Truth be told. Bale Well did serve all you can eat meals. Phuong sandwiches on the other hand, sells banh mi, vietnamese baguette sandwiches one at a time for 10,000 vnd each.

These are made with the most exquisite bread-crunchy on the outside and soft and airy on the inside. It's filled with pork of all varieties-sausage, boiled and stewed, mayonnaise, fresh pate, greens, hot sauce and the juice from the stewed pork. And at a bargain price we, the Americans, rarely ordered just one. In the picture above you can see seven-a normal amount for 4 people.

Often when we're ordering these at the stall, there would be the lot of us and a hungry throng of Vietnamese locals waiting their turn.

To our credit though, we were told that the more food we ate the better our hosts would feel.

In the Hoi An market we met Aunt Lan. She runs one of a handful of food stalls there. Mike A and I wanted to try the local favorite Cao Lau. We sat down at her stall. Ordered a couple bowls. Looked at what else she was serving and kept ordering-roasted chicken, fried and stewed shrimp in bacon and several kinds of fried greens. She loved us so much that she invited us over to her house for a family meal later that day.

Gluttony. And then some.

In Hue, Vietnam's ancient capital, I got hungry for dinner a little earlier than the others. So while I waited for their appetite to return I ventured out to withdraw some money. On the way back I spotted this Bun Bo Hue stall across the street from our hotel. I couldn't help it! I sat down and inhaled a bowl of this central region's version of pho. It's made of a beef base broth, spiked with lemongrass, tamarind and pineapple juices. The meat provided are pork slices, sausages and hocks. The noodles are big, round and ever so slightly al dente. It is my all time favorite vietnamese dish, one that my mom used to entice me home for dinners.

I liked it so much that later that evening, a mere 30 minutes after having my first bowl, I took Joel and Jorge back for my second bowl. The proprietor simply looked at me.... and smiled.

By now you're probably thinking that it's not just the American appetite but the great Vietnamese food. You're right! Sure the food is fresh and delicious, yet the amount I've consumed is over the top.

Vietnamese food and Americans-the two together will be the death of me...and you. All my American friends, You have been warned!

More Hoi An Abstracts

2009-12-17T01:25:00.000-08:00

So before I give you all the lowdown on the second group of friends that just came over for a trip, I thought to continue with more images from Hoi An. This time they are stills. Or, are they?

On our way back down to Hoi An, we stopped off in Hue to visit the ancient mausoleums and citadel, to hangout with my friend Minh and to look at a motorbike. Minh is here studying photography and art at one of national universities. His father, who passed away last year, and I are old friends. If you remember Tu Duy had a gallery in Hoi An. Anyway, Minh is following in his father's footsteps.

He had just acquired an Iphone, courtesy of my US connections. So he proceeds to show me some images he had captured at sunset. One of them had this holga/swing and tilt quality. It was all I needed to get me going again.

Needless to say, I went crazy when I got down to Hoi An. I'm sure the photo count was close to 800 shots. Luckily this is digital. Anyway, here are a few for you to enjoy. For more go to this Picasa link:
http://picasaweb.google.com/linh.nguyen.59/HoiAnAbstracts?feat=directlink

Hoi An-abstracts

2009-12-03T00:47:00.000-08:00

Another reason for loving Hoi An has to do with it’s inspiring architecture. The city was founded a long time ago in the 16^th century as Vietnam’s first port town. As such, the first foreign visitors setting foot on its land left their individual cultural landmarks in the shape of its buildings. They are either old Vietnamese, Chinese, Japanese or French, all mixed in with one another in a medley of randomness.

Over the years the paint as cracked and faded with some getting refurbished and others left to patina with time. The colors are vibrant as to inspire bright thoughts on a gray, cloudy day.

Walking the town’s narrow alleyways allows one to get up close and personal with these details. And this little film was made with this in mind.

Hoi An-Abstracts from Linh Nguyen on Vimeo.

Hoi An-Trip #2

2009-12-02T23:28:00.000-08:00

As far as sites to see in Vietnam are concerned, Hoi An is right up there at the top of the list. For me it might even be number one.

The city has the old charm preserved in its architecture, its food and its people. I’ve been coming here at least once a year for the last 10 and if I’m lucky, I will have visited Hoi An three times this year alone.

I’m still traveling with Mike, Nancy and Megan. Joining us is another American friend Mike Ayon, also a climbing buddy. Like us, Mike A also loves to eat, making him the perfect companion on these trips.

Before coming here Mike A had expressed that, through his research, he wanted to be here for the Full Moon Festival, or what locals refer to as the Old Town Festival. It happens once a month but not on the actual full moon as we know it or as it’s often depicted on a Julian calendar. One needs to refer to the lunar calendar that Southeast Asian and Chinese Buddhists use. The operative word being “Buddhists”. This calendar has 28 days per month and Hoi An’s Old Town Festival falls on the 14th day.

It is a small but a very important detail. Mike A ended up missing the festival because of this, and I’ve made the same mistake in the past by asking my Catholic relatives which day the full moon falls on. Now I know better but this is what Mike A missed:

Full Moon Festival from Linh Nguyen on Vimeo.

Fluorescent lights are turned off and only incandescent bulbs and candles illuminate the town this night. Motorized vehicles and bicycles are banned on the streets of the Old Town allowing for only walking traffic. And the music heard is that of the traditional Vietnamese countryside.

So on this evening the four of us, without Mike A, strolled the streets of the town, took a boat ride on the river and had desert in one of the colonial French houses. Oh yes, we also released candle lanterns into the river.

Some may think that this place is too touristy. There are only two real bars in the old town and they shut down about midnight or one AM at the latest. At any given time one could be inundated by schools of tourists crowding the narrow streets, clad in requisite matching hats or shirts and led by a native tour guide. Too many storefronts sell the same familiar collectable wares-Bia Saigon t-shirts, bamboo bowls and silk scarves.

But if you look past these inevitable signs of progress for a people needing to put more on their table than just food-like education for their children, you will see that as they require an increase in quality of life they too want to preserve the virtues that got them here.

For example, yesterday we had lunch at Ba Le Well, a place serving the local specialty of BBQ pork and shrimp, fried egg rolls and Vietnamese crepe all self wrapped in rice paper with fresh vegetables and dipped in an amazing savory soybean sauce. (Not to be mistaken with soy sauce.) The proprietor came over and showed us how she rolls them then proceeded to hand us roll after roll of perfectly proportioned wraps. But, as we ate and ate it never seemed like we were making a dent in the portions. Because in our frenzied chow session, like sharks feeding on their prey, our eyes too were rolled up in our brains blissfully unaware that the owner kept ordering more and more meat and wrappers.

“What makes me happy is that you are enjoying the food?” She said to me. “And however much you eat the price is always the same-60,000 VND.” For all that food, it only cost us $3 per person.

She is proud of her food just like the other locals here who are proud of their city. And pride is shown through a willingness to share. And sharing makes visitors feel welcome. This is why I keep coming back. This is one reason why I like this place so much.

Ninh Binh

2009-12-02T09:09:00.000-08:00

A couple of weeks ago, my good friends Mike, Nancy and Megan Tsoi came over for a visit. Mike and I are old climbing buddies and at a time when I was homeless-being that I didn’t want to have my own apartment from too much work travel, he took me in. On his couch I was surfing for quite some time. Anyway, he met Nancy and decided to sell his condo to go traveling and out I went. Shortly thereafter they got married and soon bore this little angel name Megan.

This I believe is the Tsoi family’s first international, real traveling experience. Vietnam and I are very to lucky to have them. The goal was to see the sights and eat. The sights are first and the food segment will appear in a later post.

The first stop on the traveling itinerary were the sites around the city of Ninh Binh, less than 100k due south of Hanoi. The guidebooks describe this area as being very picturesque, the Guilin of Vietnam and Ha Long Bay on land.....They are so right!

Trang An-Ninh Binh from Linh Nguyen on Vimeo.

On day one we were encouraged by the hotel staff to visit Trang An, a labyrinth of caves and grottos connect by a crystal clear waterway. Our immediate impression was how spotlessly clean this park is. The boats are human powered so the water did not have that oil slick sheen. Our boat had a trash can and the local operator was adamant that waste be disposed there even though we had our own trash bag. When we set foot on land for a brief hike up to a viewing spot high on the mountain side, there were signs everywhere extolling the virtues of keeping the park clean of trash. I was astonished. Still am. Only if these standards are imposed throughout Vietnam this country would be even more beautiful!

Anyway, this trip through what Megan referred to as “time-tunnels” was fabulous, a must-not-miss when visiting the sites around Ninh Binh.

Day two dawned foggy but by the time we drove over to the township of Tam Coc, the sun began to peek through the clouds. The boat landing was a bit more touristy than the boat launch at Trang An. This is a much older attraction and has had time to “develop” the tourist support system, i.e. open more gift shops and vendor stalls. But after about a dozen pulls of the oars we were in a dreamlike state floating amongst limestone towers that are thrusting up through the swampy landscape. This trip did not have as many caves. Three in all really. But between the caves are vast expanses of craggy hillsides and lakes. The left over scattered, thick clouds from the morning fog made for incredibly dramatic lighting.

Every once in a while mountain goats could be spotted prancing the hillsides. Gaggles of ducks were seen waddling on nearby shores then hopping into the glassy lake. Women were scouring the lake bottoms for snails while men were trolling for tiny shrimps, waist deep in the water. All around them danced rays of the sun, dabbled by the clouds. Heck....you can see it all right here.

Tam Coc-Ninh Binh from Linh Nguyen on Vimeo.

Towards the end of the boat ride we began to acquaint ourselves with the two local rowers, family members of Tam Coc village . They like many families in Tam Coc are registered with the local tourism board on a lottery system. Over 500 families have permits to take tourists out on their own boats, costing $300, for a measly $3 per head. The boat ride takes two hours and because there are 500 families they are lucky to receive three callings per month. I found this out when I asked if they ever get sick of this wonderful view. “Well we don’t see this all that often.” They replied. They normally farm rice and on the side they do embroidery work. And fine work they did two. We were more than happy to give them our money for all their hard work.

The price to pay for all this beauty is rather inexpensive.

Cuc Phuong National Park

2009-12-01T07:39:00.000-08:00

Just south of Hanoi is Vietnam's very first National Park. Established in 1962 and christened by Ho Chi Minh himself, Cuc Phuong National park was mostly a tropical jungle teeming with wildlife once upon a time. Now it's filled with with the bloodsucking critters such as mosquitoes and leeches.

My fellow victims to these vampires this go around are Daria, Kim, Kristi and Vianney. With four motorbikes we braved the outskirts of Hanoi to find beautiful roads through a picturesque landscape of limestone hills and river ways,as you can see on the video.

Cuc Phuong National Park from Linh Nguyen on Vimeo.

The weather had just begun to cool in the north making for perfect motorbike touring temps. So, when it came time to rent out bikes there were none to be had. Kim and I searched for the entire week prior to leaving, and it wasn't until the night before that I was able to secure one.

Anyway, it was a great bike ride. We listened to the advice of Hanoian friends and took some detours around the larger cities. Most of the roads were smooth and comfortable but just before the park there were about 20 kilometers of rough riding. Then once inside the park we were rewarded with another 20k, but this time it was 20k of concrete perfection. It twisted, banked, climbed and descended through a paved path that cut through the thicket of jungle that at time encased the road in a canopy of green. I wished we had more video footage of this. Somehow most of filming was done with the camera off. Oh well. I hope you enjoy it anyway.

As you can see, we went on a little jungle trek with two Muong guides. Both were born within the park boundaries and naturally knew the terrain very well. All together we hiked for 8 kilometers, more or less. It was humid, a little buggy and full of leeches. The pictures of our pant legs tucked inside our socks was our protection from the blooksuckers, while the guides had their own special gaiters.

Up until we set camp, it never dawned on any of us that we might face inclement weather. Yet it began to rain. So, out of the two tents that the guides brought, they slept in one-the leaky one, and all five of us cramped into the other. What ensued was a night of tongue-twisting games to tease the lone Frenchman, Vianney and not too much rolling around in the small space.

For most of the night and into the next morning the rain came down in increasing intensity. The climax happened as we drove out the 20k to the park entrance. All of us agreed that it was the heaviest downpour that we had ever driven in. Good thing the park road was virtually empty.

For obvious reason, we don't have footage of the heavy rains. What you will see at the end of the movie though is the return of the good weather with the dramatic landscape.

Mom

2009-11-19T23:46:00.000-08:00

Untitled from Linh Nguyen on Vimeo.

In Vietnam, when a loved one passes away a poster is hung upon the door of the household of the deceased. It serves as both funeral announcement and brief biography. And, I’m sad to write to you to tell you of the passing of my beloved mother.

Vo Thi Bong was born in the southern delta region of Vietnam just a short distance south of what is now Ho Chi Minh City, the same town I was born in-An Huu. Her birth date was June 15, 1945.

She is survived by her husband and three sons, who were all by her side in her last hours. Also, by her side were her adopted son Marc, her daughter in-law Marcy and her nieces Diem and Phuong. She also leaves a wealth of friends and distant relatives. Her funeral will be at her Mission Viejo home on Saturday, the 14th of November.

She is best remembered for her warmth and kindness to everyone she came in contact with. It is not uncommon for me to meet someone for the first time to find out he or she is a close friend of my moms, even though they have only known each other for just a few weeks. At her side intermittently for the last two weeks were half a dozen of these good friends.

She is also remembered for her great cooking. She was a master of southern Vietnamese dishes and if there was something she had not made before, from that region, all that was necessary to reproduce the dish was to taste it. Her chicken curry was out of this world great. Fried rice, porridge, the multitude of stews and soups were also the very best. And, I’m not saying this because she was my Mom. Whenever she wanted me to come home she would simply call and say that she was making Bun Bo Hue-beef noodle soup from Hue. She knew that this was my favorite. Then again maybe this was how she kept all of us around-her fabulous cooking.

Over two years ago my Mom was diagnosed with ovarian cancer. The prognosis initially was not too bad but upon further examination it was determined that the cancer was more advanced. She battled two rounds of chemotherapy and a myriad of complications associated with the disease. Her fight ended last night at 7:45pm.

I’m happy though that her struggle is over but I will be forever sad that she is no longer on this earth to warm our hearts with her cheerful smile and her great food.

There is another Vietnamese term worth mentioning here-Chia Buon. It means to share sadness. The idea is that the more friends and family you have the more you can divide up your sorrow. So, please join our family in the mourning of my beloved Mother, Vo Thi Bong.

The One Minutes

2009-10-22T02:12:00.000-07:00

As you can see by now from some of the previous postings, Hanoi is an urban city. As such it is filled with artists from the strictly traditional to the wildly experimental. The coffee shop/bar I've been frequenting is one of the city's epicenters for Hanoian artists nationals and expats alike.

Over a month ago, thru some thorough research, I'm told, the Dutch based group, The One Minutes, funded by the Dutch government and UNICEF came to Hanoi in search of artists to participate in their City One Minutes project and found itself at Tadioto, my local haunt. Here is info about the organization.

www.theoneminutes.org/a3...about-the-one-minutes#

Ever since forever, or should I say, ever since Eric was in film school at USC, I've wanted to do some film/video work. So, this was an opportunity I could not pass up.

Sander Lee from Holland, seen here with local artist Manh, directed this Hanoian filming project. He chose Hanoi along with Adis-Abba. And like this north African city, we were to shoot 24 films depicting each hour of the day. The idea is to give a brief look at the city and all together there are 100 cities worldwide featured in this entire project, which is to debut in its entirety at next years World's Fair in Shanghai for the Holland exhibition. So for 60 seconds each, times 24, times 100 they've got quite a long film. Here is a look at most of them:

cityoneminutes.org

Somewhere in here are the Hanoi films but below is the one I shot.

13-14 Linh Nguyen - Lullaby from Sander Lee on Vimeo.

The music is by local avant garde singer Linh Dung. (More about here later. I promise!) For me this was a very special first go at filming. I had a great video tutor in Sander and a great vocal collaborationist in Linh Dung.

The hour I filmed is 13:00, 1 pm or what many here refer to as "rest hour". It is the most quiet time during daylight where driving around is unlikely civilized, for the crazy taxi drivers-moto and auto are deep in slumber.

I hope you enjoy it and I look forward to making more in the future.

Ba Be National Park

2009-10-01T01:03:00.000-07:00

Ba Be National Park is about 250 km from Hanoi and is maybe one of the most underrated places in all of Vietnam..….So, don’t tell anyone.

Motorbike touring is one of best things to do here in the North. The countryside is mountainous and full of great vistas. So famous are the roads and towns among Hanoian expats that full-blown bike clubs have been formed around this activity. Hanoi’s Minsk Club specializes in going on these tours with Belarussian bikes of its namesake. Another club, with a much longer name, says it all-Zoom Zoon, Let’s Go To The Countryside.

Our little clan for this trip is made up of two Asian/Americans and five Swiss ladies. We took between us five motorbikes with two teams riding tandem. We spent two days driving-one day up and one day back, and two days enjoying the sites of Ba Be.

Ba Be means three tanks, or three bodies of water, which I cannot really see that well by the map. But I’ll take their word for it. What I do know though is it’s beautiful!

It felt like being in Yosemite for the first time. There is a big valley with a big lake surrounded by tall walls. And around dusk you can smell the scent of wood burning, not from campfires but from kitchen fires.

The local indigenous folks are White Tay, a gentle and likeable folk. Our guesthouse keeper is Tay and made us feel welcomed and comfortable. His place was the first guesthouse in the valley and it commands the best view, being on stilts and higher on the hillside.

http://picasaweb.google.com/linh.nguyen.59/BaBeNationalPark#

For the rest of the photos click the above links.

I wont bore you with too many of the details because the scenery will speak for itself. But I will enlighten you on a little bit of the logistics.

Firstly, it is unlawful for anyone to drive a motorbike in Vietnam without a license. But, I was told, when getting pulled over by the police in the North, just speak English. They will get frustrated after a little while and let you go. Not too many of the older folks in the North, especially the countryside, speak English. We never got asked to pull over.

Secondly, the roads are very dangerous outside of Hanoi before you’re out in the countryside. As a motorbike driver you’re competing with semi-trucks, kids on bicycles, farmers driving horse or cattle drawn buggies and bus drivers, the worse of the lot. Luckily I think other motorbike drivers know this too because they are also careful out here. God knows what would happen if motorbike drivers in Hanoi came out here and drive the same chaotic way they do in the city. Actually I do know. I think they’ve been scared straight with stories of death on the asphalt. We survived almost unscathed. Sonja got cut off within Hanoi city limits and hit the pavement. She escaped with minor scratches and bruising.

Lastly, leave early. On our way out we left Hanoi late and ended up getting to Ba Be shortly after dark, which was little scary as a storm was brewing. On the way back however we left early enough to make several stops to enjoy the countryside. We had sticky rice prepared several ways at a few roadside stands. One version was cooked in bamboo and a couple of the others were wrapped in banana leaves and stuffed with meat. We even bought local bananas. And because we were early we could afford to be lost, driving thru a local Tay market and being the town spectacle for a brief moment. (You can see this on the video.)

Remember. Don’t tell anyone about Ba Be.

Lan Ha Bay/Cat Ba National Park

2009-10-01T00:40:00.000-07:00

This area, a few hours East of Hanoi, is gorgeous!

It would not be totally fair for me to say it's Ha Long Bay, but Ha Long Bay is right next door. The two areas are separated by an invisible line through the limestone islets. On our first trip, we even went into Ha Long Bay proper to climb and kayak for a morning.

Anyway Lan Ha is just as beautiful and from what they say it actually has many sandy beaches while Ha Long has a few. I've posted a some pictures here and to get more go to my Picasa link.

http://picasaweb.google.com/linh.nguyen.59/HaLong809#

My friends here in Hanoi have jobs during thee week so these trips were done over the weekend. We'd wake up super early on Saturday morning, at 4:30 am, to catch a bus to port city Hai Phong. From there we transfer to a smaller bus to the hydrofoil terminal to catch said hydrofoil to Cat Ba Island, where we once again get on a small bus and drive to the town of Cat Ba. The trip takes about 6 hours. By 11 am we're on the rooftop of the boat floating amongst the islands, trying to get our heads to stop spinning.

We rent an entire boat for ourselves. They cook for us and take us to wherever we'd like. At night we anchor in a small bay amongst local fishermen and their floating houses. There might be one or two other tour boats nearby, unlike Ha Long where one would find a fleet of tour boats in a small bay singing Karaoke all night.

The first trip was mostly deep water soloing and the second was spent climbing on the nice beaches. It is very relaxing out here and no one wanted a mention of chaotic Hanoi. It is nice to know that we have a such a great escape.

Untitled from Linh Nguyen on Vimeo.

Here is a little video I made. There is no sound because the music is copyrighted. (Other videos from here out will have sound.)

For the next two months or so the Bays will still be nice-the air cooling off and the water warm. Come December and January, the air temps and water temps cool off enough that swimming can be uncomfortable for all except the hardy Northern Europeans. Feb, March and April will fill the bays with midst and fog. So, we're enjoying it now...while we can.

*Photos courtesy of Kim Sanders

2009-10-01T00:12:00.000-07:00

Hoi An again. Yes!

I love this place. It’s historic. It’s near the ocean. It’s got great food. And, I have many friends here. In past trips, I’d stay for at least a few days but on this particular one I could only afford two. I have to rush back to a good internet connection in Hanoi for the beginning of my online English teaching course.
Still getting out of the bustling city for a couple days was a great welcome. The weather is cool and there is an ocean breeze.
I’m here with Daria, Cecilia and Julie. All are Swiss friends. Cecilia and Julie are on vacation from Europe while Daria, living in Hanoi, works for the UN. Daria loves it here too. This is her fourth or fifth trip since being “in country” as of February.
Anyway, here are some older shots of Hoi An.

These though are of a peninsula in Da Nang that was a former army base now opened to the public. Julie had read somewhere that there was big Buddha statue near here. I knew nothing of the sort until we, my friend Minh and I, drove around the corner of the peninsula. (Some of you may remember Minh from last year’s trip. His father, my good friend, Duy past away last year.)
This is Quan Am, Mother Goddess of Mercy-one of Buddha’s many forms.

If God, Buddha, Allah or whomever or whatever it is that you worship is willing, you too can one day enjoy this beautiful view in person.

Hanoi-Street Food

2009-09-29T23:25:00.000-07:00

If you were here with me, we'd be eating out almost every meal because it's way cheaper than cooking. Breakfast, lunch and dinner cost about 75 cents each. Here are some samples:

Bun Cha is a Hanoian staple-BBQ pork,a la bacon, and beef patties with rice vermicelli noodles, a garden medley dipped in a sauce made of lemon juice, fish sauce, sugar, lime and vinegar. This last bit, the sauce, makes one Bun Cha dish better than the next. Luckily for me, this shop is within short walking distance from my house and is better than the famous Bun Cha shop found in the Old Quarter. This was lunch with Sam, english teacher and one of my roommates.

This is Bun Rieu-a crab/shrimp soup base noodle with vermicelli rice noodles. The protein ingredients are pork sausage, pork blood cake, a la cubes, snails and fried tofu. The condiment that sends this dish over the top, depending on how you look at it, is fermented shrimp paste. So you can imagine by the name that it's an acquired taste.

Pho is of course ubiquitous here in Hanoi. And since this is where the dish originated, you'd think that it'd be hard to find a bad pho house. You see, I've been compiling a list of street stalls and restaurants on a google map that I will attach later. But when I asked for the best pho houses in the city I discovered that there are too many to list and it would be better to warn of the bad ones instead. Above is chain store that recently arrived here from the South. Now, usually anything food related from the South would be tastier than here in the North, Pho 24 however is not. It's watered down and tasteless. And as you can see, it's not really street food but a restaurant, completely sheltered from street life.

Another breakfast favorite of mine is this Vietnamese version of steak and eggs, cooked in a iron skillet and served with a demi-baguette. The version in the central part of Vietnam is better mostly because the bread is better down there and they pour on top of everything some kind of stock, giving the dish a moister flavor. Still, it's great to have this dish nearby. I'm enjoying this with world traveller and buddy Devin, from the states. (More with him later.)

All of these dishes above and a few more that I will share with you later are individual servings, a bowl or plate for each person. As it is you can enjoy these by yourself, so it is more common among Vietnamese that these are eaten in the morning, because lunch and dinner are dedicated to eating with your family, where you all sit around a table each with a small bowl of rice, dipping your chopsticks into plates or vegetables and meats in a communal manner.
More food later....of course!

Hanoi-Traffic

2009-08-10T12:26:00.000-07:00

Here are few videos of Hanoi's streets. Now don't get me wrong. This looks rather tamed, when in reality it's total chaos! More on that later when I get actual footage.
At the time of these films I had not yet gotten out into the streets on a motorbike myself. But now I"m a seasoned veteran. Mixing it up with the best of them. So, enjoy these for now because later it will not be so nice.

Hanoi

2009-08-05T23:55:00.000-07:00

Hi Everyone,

Sorry to have taken so long to get back to you all via email. I wanted some time to live here, experience the place to be able to report properly.

It's been a little over a month now, the longest time span I've had in Vietnam and the longest I've stayed in one place outside of Long Beach. (Not counting the 3+ weeks I had in Salt Lake that year when I was stuck waiting for my van to get fixed from hitting a deer.)

My first impressions have remained. It's crazy busy here! I would dare say that it's Saigon busy, too. There are way more motorbikes and cars now than last year it seems. To top it all off, it's the height of the tourist season.

The Old Quarter is packed with tourists and locals. On weekend nights, two of the streets are closed off to motorized traffic and are opened with stalls for what is a "Night Market". (If you've ever been to Bangkok, it's like Khao San road.) No pictures here, sorry. But when I was down there one night I was overwhelmed-the mass of humanity and the heat!

Needless to say, I did not decide to live in the Old Quarter. Instead, I took a room in a shared house just 15 minutes south of the Old Quarter.

It's got a balcony looking down onto the alley way and new construction of a neighboring lot. The noise is manageable at this point. Otherwise the noise level in this neighborhood is really quiet. More about the neighborhood later.

The weather is hot! When it got hot in the states, sticky and steamy, I used to refer to it as "Saigon Hot". I'd now use the term "Hanoi Hot!" Luckily there is rain. The kind so torrential that the city's drainage system gets clogged. Leading to this:

I look forward everyday to the rain, for while it rains the temps are cool. And after it rains, even if the sun is out, the temps are cool. How cool, you might ask? Only "Saigon Hot."