Ha Giang to Bac Quang. High limestone karsts provide a dramatic backdrop to the eastern edge of Ha Giang, adding to the excitement as I set off on my journey south, day one of a two-month journey through Vietnam.
And this first day was a ripper, taking me through some wonderful off-the-beaten-track scenery and on to a very rideable section of Highway 2, before finishing at a truly authentic homestay.
My goal was to to take back roads wherever possible and planned out a route approximately 300km long. So right from the word go I took a a gamble on a tiny back road on the other side of the river.
The start was awful. Within about 15 minutes I was pushing my bike up a rocky, muddy hill and dodging slow-moving lorry trucks. But the trucks soon cleared, the road improved to be at least least sporadically rideable, and soon the most magnificent scenery emerged, cool green and delicious.
Soon I was riding alongside an idyllic valley where corn, ripe rice fields, thatched stilt houses and deep red hillsides made a delicious contrast with the green vegetation.
Sometimes riding, sometimes walking as the road got bad I found a banh my stall opposite a school where a lady grilled the bread and filled it with some pate and pickled carrots.
Gaggles of kids were hanging about waiting to start school and stood around gaping at the foreigner – none brave enough to have a picture taken!
Soon I came into a vast valley filled with rice fields, glowing in the sun which had just started peeking over the hills.
Yellow rice fields signal harvest time and farmers were out in the fields clearing the crops. I took a peek around a pretty little temple where the sound of chanting was coming from an unseen speaker.
At this point my navigation told me to turn off up a steep hill and join the highway, but by this point I was just enjoying the valley road too much. This is what cycle touring is all about! I decided to keep going on a route that Google maps said was possible, even if my navigation ap did not.
The result was, um, interesting.
A gravel road that was now clearly under construction (so much for avoiding construction) started winding up the side of another spectacularly scenic valley, this time dominated by a still, majestic lake and rimmed with jagged karsts.
I struggled slowly to the top on the dusty gravel, trying not to think about my bike mechanic in Melbourne who told me I needed gravel tires for Vietnam.
The struggle was rewarded with relief – thank god! Smooth road! I got my breath back and gazed wistfully at a white ribbon of perfectly smooth road below (clearly the way I didn’t choose).
Hopping back on the bike to cruise down the hill on this smooth piece of road I was in for a nasty surprise. The road down quickly turned into the worst piece of “road” I’d ever seen in my life. Oh dear. Fifteen more minutes of struggle ensued as I pushed a fully loaded bike down the rocks (hike a bike is waaaay worse downhill than up, trust me).
I was now about 20 kilometres into my journey and the south of Vietnam. It felt a lot, lot further.
Luckily the remaining ride into my destination of Bac Quang was smooth and uneventful. I fuelled up on chicken pho and got myself on to the blissfully smooth tarmac of Highway 2.
This highway was well-used by long distance buses and trucks and I was still happy to have avoided the roadworks section. Highways are never ideal but this one, at around 9 in the morning, wasn’t too busy and offered some very pleasant views as it skirted a large river.
Yeeeeaahhhh – felt great to be on the road and finding my rhythm.
Another crisis soon emerged however in the form of a coffee shortage. I managed to plug the gap with icecream and canteloupe (that an old man kindly gave me) but the situation became dire. Does no one in this region drink coffeeee!!!!!!?????? A whopping 50 kilometres of cycling passed before I finally pulled up at a cafe, and made everything right with the world.
Approaching the town of Bac Quang my bike was filthy and I could hear village mud grinding in the chain. I paid a guy about 70 cents to give it a once over with a pressure hose – and – ta da! Sparkling clean bike. Even my panniers got a pressure spray wash too, meaning I could rock up at my accommodation looking a bit less like a vagabond.
Accomodation for that night was at a homestay called Truly Bac Quang, where four generations live under the one roof in a traditional stilt house.
I had a grand old time joining the family dinner, helping strip leaves off a plant for the night’s soup and chatting with Gom, the 15 year old. Coming home from school bounded between looking after me, helping with dinner, visiting her great grandma, teasing her little brother, folding laundry and doing her homework. Then – at 6am – off to school again. I felt tired just watching.
This girl’s English was quite extraordinary and next week she would be representing her district in an English competition, having won the previous year. “My accent is a mixture of American and English, but I think it might be a little clumsy”, she said, as I gaped at her perfect pronunciation.
Quang, the nine year old, was a different story, refusing his families repeated urging to say hello to the guest, but (once no-one was watching) curling up on my bed to show me his computer games.
Day One – done!
