I continue through an off-the-beaten-track coastal region, where I discover the world’s healthiest ‘truckies lunch’.
Cycling the Nghe An province coastline
The day started with the smell of dried fish, but fishy smells weren’t such a bad thing.
I was on the coast!
It felt great to be strolling along the seafront in another random and good-natured village.
As an orange sun rose over the opposite headland the locals were busy spreading trays of fish out to dry.
Large ceramic jars signalled that the drying fish was being transformed into fish sauce, so integral to Vietnamese cooking.
Speaking of cooking, I was going to do some for breakfast.
Vietnamese restaurants are not at all set up for solo diners, so the only way to get some rice with my dinner was to order an enormous serving of fried rice. This was now going to double as my breakfast.
My host at the guesthouse was luckily all over this situation, and explained enthusiastically that I could store the left in the guesthouse family fridge and cook it in the kitchen.
Deciding to jazz things up a bit, I first headed to the market to buy tomato, egg and coriander.
It was lovely then to cook all this up on the stove and sit in the neat kitchen opposite the family’s eight year old, eating pho.
The eight-year-old and I solemnly shovel food into our mouths until it’s off to school for her, and off to cycling for me.
It’s pleasantly hectic in the kitchen, with everyone getting off to work and school, and a group stopping off to buy bottles of the guesthouse’s famous home made fish sauce.
Cycling Nghe An province
The road out of Hai Binh was quite weird. In stark contrast to the coziness of the village I soon came to an enormously wide four lane road, completely devoid of traffic.
I can only assume it had been built to accommodate workers going off to one of the factories in the area.
This vast, empty, desolate section of road even had a separated cycle path – the only I’ve seen in Vietnam.
An industrial area before forests return
Now I would love to pretend that cycle touring through the length of a country exclusively takes you through pretty countryside with jaw-dropping views, but this reality is of course impossible.
If you think of Vietnam as a dragon-shaped country, I’m now in the ‘neck’.
There is a narrow strip of land between sea and mountains, and to avoid repeating the nightmare of highway one, I’m taking the coast road.
For about an hour or two, this means going past an oil refinery and other large scale industry.
It’s not terrible, and at least the road here is smooth and fast.
After a while, forests (mostly) replace factories and I relax and start to enjoy the blue skies and cool breeze in my face.
Coming to a messy highway intersection I pull in for a roadhouse lunch stop. The target market is drivers, and the vibe is rough and ready. I ignore the pointing and laughing with lots of eye-rolling and get some food
All I can say though is that Vietnamese truck drivers must be the best fed in the world.
I choose from a selection of dishes to have on a mixed rice plate, as always with a side soup, and everything is delicious. This is home style food, and a super important way for me to as a traveller to get veggies into my day.
Leaving the card-playing truckies behind I continue on country roads, eventually reaching the faded seaside resort area of Quynh Bien.
The beach is grey, dirty and underwhelming, but at least there’s a modern hotel and a friendly restaurant overlooking the ocean. The balcony to my silent room overlooks a whispering Casuarina tree forest.
I take a sunset ride across the nearby countryside and watch white birds float lazily across the fields.
Unfortunately the purpose of this ride was to seek out a vaccination clinic for my third rabies shot, adding an extra 25 kilometres on to my day, along with an unwanted visit to the nightmarish Highway One.
Arriving back to seaside I have dinner at a large open restaurant where a friendly group of local teachers offer me grilled quails from their overflowing dishes. They’re out celebrating a birthday with piles of food
(I think it was quail – or some kind of bird. The fellow made a flapping motion with his elbows when he gave it to me).
A gigantic orange moon rises up over the water and another day is done.
