Vietnam - Easy Rider

As loyal citizens of the Old North State and avid sports fans, we have an affinity for the Carolina Panthers, and we ride the waves of their successes and failures every year.  I’ve been a fan since their inception over twenty years ago, and I especially enjoyed listening to the games on the radio in the early days because of the passionate play by play announcer, Bill Rosinski.  According to tales told by his color announcers, Rosinski was the consummate professional and was known for opening the window of the press box on chilly days at the stadium so he could “feel the game.” We’ve been in Vietnam for fifteen days, and we’ve witnessed the crazy, infamous traffic through car, train, and bus windows and marveled at the world’s largest game of chicken and the participants whose motto is “it’s all about me.”  Easy Rider tours are popular in this area of Vietnam, and they allow novice bikers to ride on the back of a motorcycle for a day or two and see areas of the country to which travel would be difficult by car or bus.  After a lot of research, Deena booked an Easy Rider tour with Mr. Tong and his crew, and we had a unique opportunity to “feel the game.”

The last couple of days in Hoi An have been a bit of a blur as we’ve been figuring out our new home and the surrounding community.  The manager of our homestay is a kind and helpful man, and his family has gone out of their way to make us feel welcome.  Our room is small, but the high ceiling, cream-colored walls, and large balcony make it feel much bigger, and we’ve been very comfortable here.  Because the homestay is located just outside of Hoi An proper, we can reach the city center easily with a two-dollar, ten-minute taxi ride down one of the narrow main roads lined with small shops and restaurants tucked into the groves of banana trees.  The highlands of Vietnam produce some of the world’s finest coffee, and the rest of the nation proudly sells it in coffee shops placed every twenty meters or so in the cities and countryside alike.  The espresso shop next door makes coconut coffee that is worthy of heaven, and Deena and I ditch the kids every afternoon around 5:00 to enjoy it together in the shade of the palm trees while watching the teams of water buffalo work the rice fields across the road.

The city of Hoi An is situated on the coast along the banks of the Thu Bon river which splits into numerous branches before flowing into the South China Sea.  The lime-washed ocher buildings and streets strung with colorful lanterns create a rustic lively atmosphere that attracts tourists by the megabus load every night, and we’ve joined the fray on several occasions.  The last night we were there, we hired a nice lady to take us on a lazy cruise down the main canal in a wooden rowboat, and we enjoyed lighting candles and setting them adrift in paper vessels that looked like large red and gold cupcake liners.  We had another flavorful dinner and walked back out to the street where a group of giggling young girls begged Deveny to join them for a picture.  They were thankful and couldn't believe their good fortune of being photographed with a real American princess with her long hair done up in braided tresses.  Hoi An is known worldwide for its population of tailors offering custom-made clothing for low prices, and we found ourselves in the Din Din shop where my girls indulged themselves with a fitting session for new haute couture frocks to ship back home.  

On Sunday, we managed to find a worship service to attend in a nearby village where we met a lot of nice people including a family from a city in South Carolina near our hometown.  It was good to hear a familiar accent, and we spent the morning worshipping with this warm group of people who have experienced a lot of difficulty lately finding a place to meet due to the many restrictions here.  The pastor delivered a sermon from Leviticus, which I happen to be reading now, and I appreciated the extra insight.  The service concluded with communion, and we stayed to talk for a while before searching for a place to have lunch. We found an uncrowded cafe with soft couches for seating and had a long lunch in the open-air dining area shaded by thick ficus trees.  Near the end of our meal, we were treated to a free animal show as a large gray rat went skittering across the floor next to our table eliciting screams from my girls and amusement from the staff.  I looked around for a health inspector carrying a clipboard, but curiously there was not one to be found.  

We were downstairs sitting in the courtyard early the next morning in the middle of a big breakfast of eggs and French bread when four motorcycles came rumbling into the driveway, and Mr. Tong greeted us with a big smile as he swung off his bike.  We quickly finished our meal, donned helmets, climbed on the back of the bikes, and zoomed out into traffic right at 8:00.  The guys took it easy on us starting out and didn’t drive too fast as they gave us time to adjust to riding on a motorcycle.  People driving cars, or riding scooters and bikes in Vietnam rarely stop unless they’ve reached their destination.  They don’t stop at intersections or for pedestrians, and if they’re forced to stop at a traffic light, their impatience is palpable.  They enter the road from driveways and side streets without looking, and it’s up to oncoming motorists to adjust to the latest entry into the swirling symphony of Vietnamese traffic with horns constantly blaring.  I think we all closed our eyes for a bit until we felt like we weren't going to die under the wheels of a wayward scooter and eventually started enjoying the scenery as we headed north to Da Nang.  

We traveled the main northbound four-lane boulevard, which was built up with huge hotels, retreat centers, and golf courses with many other large constructions projects underway.  The city of Da Nang borders a large bay off the South China Sea, and the downtown area spreads out along the Han River.  There is a long stretch of beach along the shore of the bay with a strong surf of aquamarine water in front of the jungle-covered Annamite mountain range sweeping up behind.  It’s an impressive sight coming into the city made more intense viewed from the back of a rumbling motorcycle.  I spent the majority of the trip into Da Nang trying to catch glimpses of my family in the throes of traffic to make sure that they were managing to stay on the back of their bikes, and I was relieved when we all made it to our first stop of the morning unscathed.

We pulled into a hangar-sized area in front of a marble factory that was protected by a corrugated metal roof and chain link fence three meters high.  In a pit beside the concert floor, craftsmen noisily whittled at huge chunks of marble with dremel tools the size of machine guns. We were then escorted into the showroom past marble sculptures of lions, buddhas, and naked ladies.  The factory sat at the base of one of the five Marble Mountains, and it was a convenient spot to stow the bikes as well as a chance for the factory owners to try to sell sculpture to the tourists.  There was no pressure to buy, and after resisting the temptation to ship home a one ton happy Buddha, Mr. Tong escorted us across the road, paid our admission, and gave us one hour to tour Thuy Son, the largest of the Marble Mountains. In addition to astounding views, the Marble Mountains are home to Buddhist shrines and caves used by the Viet Cong during the war with America.  After climbing steep stairs cut into the marble substrate, we had a great time exploring the mountaintop. We felt we were on the set of an Indiana Jones movie as we followed jungle trails opening up to ancient shrines and huge caves filled with altars and sweet smoke from smoldering sticks of incense.

We rejoined our crew of bikers at the base of the mountain, saddled up, and took off toward the seashore and our second stop of the day.  During the Vietnam War, Da Nang was the home of the busiest airport in the world, and on March 8, 1965, two thousand Marines landed on the beach to protect the airport and had the distinction of being the first American combat troops deployed in Vietnam.  We hopped off the bikes briefly to visit with some fishermen who were sitting in the shade of plastic tarps while they sold their morning catch to local restaurant owners.  There were big plastic tubs spread around the beach full of crabs, shrimp, and cuttlefish all kept alive by oxygen bubbling from hoses into the tubs.   From there we headed farther north up the coast until we reached the stretch of sand where the Marines landed fifty one years ago under the shadow of the mountains in the bend of the bay.  Mr. Tong gave us time to walk around here, and I had a feeling similar to the one I felt when we visited the beaches in Normandy.  While the Marine landing at Da Nang wasn’t close to the magnitude of the D-Day landing at Omaha Beach, it was still an important moment of American and world history, and I was glad the children could learn about the event in the place it happened.

From the beach, we spent an hour ascending five-hundred meters above sea level to the Hai Van pass in the mountains, an area that physically divides Vietnam into north and south just as it did politically in years past.  Our crew stopped at several scenic locations and gave us plenty of time to take pictures of the incredible views.  We saw some of the scenery from the our train berth window a few days ago, but the elevation was lower, and the views from higher up were breathtaking.  We reached the summit of the pass around 11:00 AM, and Mr. Tong walked with us as we toured the remnants of an American bunker which was used as a command post during the war.  The area was full of tour buses, and their passengers were milling around the snack shops and making their way up the hill to the bunker where we were standing.  Mr. Tong swept his hand around and told us that several years ago, this place was mostly deserted and only a few tour buses came through.  Thanks to several documentaries produced over the years touting the beauty of Vietnam and more relaxed visa requirements, tourists are pouring into Vietnam.  Mr. Tong explained that Hoi An and Da Nang didn’t have enough hotel rooms or nice roads to accommodate all the new visitors, but the government has spent money improving the infrastructure which explains all of the new construction in booming Da Nang.

Mr. Tong is about fifty years old but doesn’t know his birthday since his mother said he was born in 1969, and his father says it was 1967.  Either way, he was a small child when the war ended, and his family from the south was placed into a concentration camp run by the communists.  Along with other boys, he had to collect scrap metal left over from the war in the form of land mines, shells, and bombs, and in some cases, the ordinance was still live and had to be emptied of gunpowder.  “Very dangerous work,” said Mr. Tong, “Many people die from explosion, but we have to eat.”  Even with that kind of memory playing in his mind, Mr. Tong is proud of his country’s beauty and history, and he’s thankful for the visitors coming to spend time here.  We boarded the bikes and took a long time descending the mountains on the way back into Da Nang for lunch.

American bunker

With Mr. Tong on top of the bunker

I couldn’t pronounce the name of the restaurant, but the reason we were there was to try a dish simply called mi bo, or noodles with beef.  My family was the only group of westerners there, and Mr. Tong explained that the restaurant was the favorite of the locals for its quality and cheap price which enables the establishment to sell over four hundred kilos of mi bo every day.  The servers brought big steaming bowls of egg noodles and beef to the table, and we added clumps of salad from platters piled with mixed greens.  Next, we mixed in crumbled pieces of flat rice crackers fresh from the oven and dotted the whole mixture with fiery chili sauce.  The resulting flavor was intense and immensely satisfying, and we understood why the restaurant was packed with locals hunched over their bowls.  We had plenty of time for lunch and for talking with our biker crew about their families. They also asked us a lot of questions about our life in America.  With full stomachs, we were off again heading west of Da Nang into the Ba Na hills anticipating the prospect of visiting several waterfalls.

The outlying streets of Da Nang were interesting to drive through, and I saw many forms of heavy industry right next door to small houses, businesses, and schools, and no matter the level of development in these areas, there were always a few cows and chickens wandering out into the road.  Outside the city, the terrain changed to rice fields bordering the rivers snaking through the countryside, and they seemed to stretch all the way to the base of the mountains far in the distance.  Tall palm trees stood like sentinels all across the plains, and there were thick groves of bamboo and banana trees along the road.  As we got deeper into the Ba Na region, the hills began sweeping upward, and we began to follow a wide, swiftly flowing river strewn with huge boulders and the banks thick with jungle growth.  We pulled off the main highway and followed a gravel road for several kilometers until we reached the visitor center within the boundaries of the national park.  

Mr. Tong and crew took a break and gave us an hour to hike along the river, and we had lot of fun trekking through the jungle and discovering intense waterfalls that over the boulders and filling large emerald green pools.  The sand at the bottom of the river reflected gold in the sunlight, and viewing it through the green leaves of the jungle beside the steep vine-covered hills made it seem like we were the last people on earth.  Joseph braved the cold water and swam around at the base of one of the falls while the rest of us stuck our feet in the water and just enjoyed looking around.  We used our entire hour and hiked back to the visitor center, where our bikers got us ready for the final leg of the journey, and we took off one more time headed back to Hoi An through the countryside.

The ride home was long, so our bikers stopped numerous times in areas where we could take pictures and they could talk to us about farming and life in the Vietnamese countryside. We traveled on narrow concrete roads through many kilometers of rice fields with water buffalo and cattle trudging alongside the canals with their handlers right behind wearing their conical hats and wielding long whips to hasten the pace of the animals.  As we got closer to Hoi An, the signs of civilization began to appear in the form of farm houses mostly hidden in banana tree groves, and villages became more prevalent with dirt roads full of chickens, cows, and small children with their parents sitting by the side of the road cooking dinner on small charcoal fires.  As we arrived in Hoi An, we joined the traffic game again, but having spent the day with our intrepid bikers, we no longer flinched as children walked into the road without looking and scooters zoomed head on with no intention of swerving aside.  The guys delivered us back to our homestay safely, and there were hugs and handshakes all around as we said farewell to four kind men who shared their country and their lives with us on a very full day in central Vietnam.

Needless to say, we slept a little later the following morning and after a breakfast of beef noodle soup and bananas and spent the early part of the day completing school assignments and catching up on computer work.  We grabbed a taxi and headed back into central Hoi An for a 2:00 cooking class at Cafe 43 where we enjoyed a fabulous dinner a few nights ago.  The cafe is a small open-air restaurant located down a busy alleyway with glass-topped tables surrounded by the ubiquitous pink plastic chairs.  The food at the cafe is famous in the area for its quality and flavor, and the cooking classes offered are inexpensive and well-reviewed all over the internet.  They also have beer made fresh daily and available for thirteen cents a glass, and at that price, one could enjoy several glasses, theoretically.  We had a private class taught by a delightful and patient young lady who enjoyed working with Joseph and Deveny as they cooked all the meals while Deena and I did the prep work and took notes on the recipes.  The meals turned out perfectly, and the fact that the kids cooked them made the food taste even better.  We have two days left in Hoi An. Our time in Vietnam is flying by much too quickly as we continue to enjoy the culture and the people in this beautiful country.