It’s becoming a routine, wake up, have some breakfast, pack our bags, strap them to our motorbikes, and hit the road. What’s not routine are the startling views that hit you with a punch around every corner (or maybe that’s the jolt of nerves when there’s another speeding motorbike coming at you).

 

 

 

With every curve in the road comes some beautiful new landscape that’s more gorgeous than the last. The winding roads lead you up and down mountains, through rice terraces, corn fields, villages and onto the high ledges of rock faces.

 

At one moment you’re driving through jungle like foliage and the next you’re looking out at a valley that extends for miles in every direction, with a green river snaking between the mountains.

 

 

 

For good reason, this is a UNESCO Global Geopark. It also is home to 17 ethnic minority groups (some of which you’ve already seen in the blog). Tourism is just starting in this area, only really having foreigners come for about 5 years now. I’m very happy that we’re getting to do it now because the more people find out about this beautiful place, the more it will change. You can already see some signs of change. We were stopped on the side of the mountain and some children were coming down on a bicycle. They stopped when they saw us and we attempted to have a conversation with one of the kids. He wasn’t interested, only saying “Mun hee” and rubbing his fingers together. In an instant, the innocence of the situation vanished. Luckily this is a rare thing, as all of the other children we have stopped and spoken to have been interesting, friendly and overall quite delightful.

 

 

A short post, but really, photos say it better than anything (and even they don’t do it justice).

 

 

 

 

 

Although the internet is a wealth of knowledge about where to go, what to do and see, there is something to be said about going out with no plan and seeing where the road takes you. With motorbikes at our disposal, cheap gas, and no plans, we left our bags at our hostel and started out on a road. It may seem like a strange thing to do but here you really never know what’s on the other side of the mountain.

 

High in the hills near Meo Vac are small villages nestled among jagged rock jutting out of the mountains at such angles it looks like they’re razors coming out of the earth. If it’s not hard enough to believe that they live here, then imagining FARMING here. It really depicts the resilience of humans. Corn, tea, herbs, and long leaves are grown and harvested, dried and carried for miles on the curvy mountain roads on the back of small, disfigured women. Cows, pigs and chickens can be found on the road, tied to something near the front door of their houses.

 

Our road of choice lead us to a H’mong village. Where the road ends is the entrance of a school. I think we happened to arrive shortly after school was let out. We caused a bit of a ruckus, two white people arriving on shiny, new motorbikes. The children were very shy, heavily starring from afar. Maybe one in 15 would wave back at us when we smiled and said “Hello!”. Small kids played with rocks on the road, trying to break them in two, or in the dirt in front of their homes. They wore traditional H’mong dress of brightly covered skirt and pants, and many of the children had World Vision jackets (so I am assuming they are sponsored by them).

 

Enamoured by their shyness we found a small shop, bought candy and went back to distribute the sugar. We know children can’t resist that. And such was our very own Halloween; Except we were the ones who looked funny and everyone stared at, and we were also the ones giving out candy.

 

With the candy the crowds grew bigger. Some were very open to taking candy from our hands, while others we had to place at their feet before they would touch it. Almost all of them were very hesitant to get their photos taken, either running away or turning their backs when I brought out my camera.

 

In the end I think we won them over, candy will do that. We smiled and waved as we sped off on our bikes, smiling that maybe our presence will give them something to talk about around the dinner table tonight. I’m sure we’ll be talking about it for many years to come.

Dear Mom(s),

Sorry. We’ve decided to rent motorbikes and explore the Vietnamese countryside. It all started with a 6 hour bus ride from Hanoi, Vietnam. Winding our way through the mountainous terrain, the bus driver spent most of his time in the wrong lane. He beeped and flashed his high beams incessantly. Most of his focus seemed to be occupied by his Vietnamese Idol show or one of his two cell phones. At one point he had both phones…I’ll just skip the details, you get the idea. We made really good time though, beating Google’s predicted duration by 30 minutes even with a half hour dinner stop. Cheryl, Happy Birthday. We realize this likely isn’t the gift you were hoping for. The timing is totally coincidental.

Ha Giang is in northern rural Vietnam and has become a haven for motorcycle enthusiasts brave enough to travel its roads. The roads range from rough to treacherous. The landscape in this region is breathtakingly beautiful as you will see from the photos. Jagged cliff faces, rolling hills, steep mountains, lush jungle foliage, and fantastic views. We rented small (110cc) but adequate motorbikes. Leaving Ha Giang in our dust we made our way through the villages and hamlets that make up this region. It seemed our bus driver was not unique in his driving style. The local buses here are like battering rams that plow their way through everything. They have a specific honks, sounding similar to a turkey gobble. Their appearance is weathered, ragged, and worn. Often large portions of them are held together with cardboard and clear tape. When you hear that distant gobble, you find a shoulder to hide on until they pass.

As we ascended into this province, the temperature dropped and the air became clean and crisp. Wood stoves are used for heating here and the smoke leaves a nice smell. Everywhere you look are rice paddies with ducks, yaks and attentive farmers with a bamboo hats. Rivers snake through the jungle and trickle freshwater into the green fields. It looks like something out of a storybook.

After arriving in the town of Quan Ba we began looking for accommodation. When you get this rural the selection is limited; most towns will only offer home stays (a local family’s house). A home stay it is! We navigated a dirt path for 4km and finally reached our resting place. The home is situated at the end of a long, curvy driveway. It has large columns with a concrete foundation and is painted yellow. We are greeted by an elderly lady and what appears to be her grandson. They’re both dressed in traditional garb and the youngster is sporting a elaborately embroidered hat. Using Google translate (something we have relied heavily on) we managed to discuss the pricing and the boy’s mother shows us to our private room. The room is inside a mud hut which is situated at the top of a valley. The view is fantastic and is really a snapshot of all that is great with this place.

We are asked to join the family for dinner (for a small fee). We readily agree. Dinner consists of the whole gang – from grandma to baby – and the duck from the rice paddy. We gather around the table and begin with a cheers (sounds like “juicy quay” – Google says it means good health – we’ll take that). And then there are more “juicy quays”. And then more. We chase the rice liquor with spring rolls but they keep coming. We’re too Canadian to refuse the drinks so intoxication is our only option. For dessert we are served steamed peanuts and bananas. Greasy and full of peanuts and liquor we waddle back to our mud hut. It’s been a good day.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

A symphony of engines, humming a tune that crescendos as the light turns green and they speed on. Horns pierce the air like crashing cymbals. Exhaust fumes fill the air and mix with oriental spices leaving a specific aroma. A romantic way to look at the hectic, swarms of mopeds and motorbikes that makeup the streets of Hanoi.

Although it is sort of like a dance, watching them move about. Crisscrossing like square dancers, circle left, do-si-do and promenade, all moving somewhat seamlessly across intersections while dodging pedestrians, tour buses, taxi cabs, animals, and the onslaught of motorbikes coming from the other direction.

Mopeds are definitely the most popular and easiest way to get around. The streets are littered with them both on and off the roads. Motorbike parking takes up every sidewalk and storefront and in busy areas motorbike parking attendants will take your bike, squeeze it in somewhere and give you a tag like a coat check.

Sound like something that you would want to try? Well, when in Vietnam! Our AirBnB had an old moped for rent for $5 a day so we figured that we’d try it and if it’s too crazy, no harm done. Mark set off on his own for a while to get the feel of the roads before coming back to put me on the back. It’s not uncommon to witness one or more passengers dangling off the back of one of these things. The most I’ve seen so far is 4 people. Everything from two girls sidesaddle, a toddler standing up squeezed in between parents, cellphones, chickens, balloons and this kid (below) calmly eating an ice cream cone.

It’s not actually so bad. You follow the swarms, and you almost feel safer on the bike than as a pedestrian (thanks to Mark’s great driving skills). Trying to cross the road walking is a feat in itself. Even if there is a “walk” sign at a traffic light, that doesn’t mean the traffic stops. It never stops. As you look out into the typhoon of mopeds, you briefly consider living out the rest of your existence on this side of the road. Finally you summon the courage to slowly step off the curb and meander into the street, letting the hoards of bikes swarm around you like water around rock. The pace is crucial, too fast and they don’t veer in time, too slow they honk and don’t veer at the right angle. When all else fails, wait for a local and go when they go; we’re talking full on human shield.

A welcome relief comes every weekend, where some of the streets in the Old Quarter get blocked off and it becomes a pedestrian centre, with performers, stalls and food vendors. What it also creates is an excellent opportunity for young kids to go up to those foreigners wandering about and practice their English.

We were approached by a woman with two girls, who wanted to practice their English skills. Aged 6 and 13, these girls chatted with us for about 15 minutes using a binder of English/Vietnamese phrases as a guide. It was a lot of fun, learning about them and telling them about ourselves. So much so that we walked around more to try and get approached again. We did, this time by 3 kids about 12 years old, who lived in small village about 45 minutes away from Hanoi. They said they come into the city every weekend to come and talk with tourists to practice their English skills. These kids were much more advanced than the last, being able to speak quite freely with no assistance. Besides practicing with strangers, my girl said she watched Tom and Jerry cartoons and Mr. Bean to learn English. Her aspiration was to become an English teacher and her dream was to study at Oxford University in England. An obviously bright girl, with great courage and ambition randomly speaking to strangers in a foreign tongue. I hope her dreams come true.

Vietnam is a great place to arrive starving.

We left our hotel in Singapore around 6:30 am and with nothing but a small McChicken Egg sandwich from the airport McDonald’s many hours before, our stomachs were growling by the time we arrived in Hanoi.

First things first- FOOD! We left our bags and set out into the city, trying to navigate our way through the swarms of motorbikes to find something to fill our angry stomachs. With the scent of charcoal BBQ wafting through the air making us drool, we settled at one of the first places that we came to.  A beer to celebrate making it here, and then we devoured our noodle dishes so quickly that  I forgot to take a picture of the deliciousness.  Did we stop there? Absolutely not. In the course of 6 hours we ate: a pork BBQ baguette sandwich, 4 noodle dishes, 4 spring rolls, 3 beers, a fresh pineapple juice, 2 chocolate croissants, 2 sesame timbits, and a pint of ice cream.

And then today we decided to go to the gym… We did CrossFit regularly for the last 9 months before heading out on our trip, and we are currently in pretty decent shape. Trying to maintain that while we’re gone (with our current eating pattern) is proving to be a little challenging. So today, we found a gym and put together our own CrossFit workout. It remains to be seen how sore we will be tomorrow.

Of course, after our big workout we needed nourishment! More food! If you are a fan of Anthony Bourdain and his show “Parts Unknown” in which where he travels the world  meeting people and eating food, then you may have seen the episode in Hanoi where he sits on a little plastic stool in a small restaurant in Hanoi with none other than Barack Obama. Well, if it’s good enough for them, it’s definitely good enough for us. Bun Cha is a Hanoian specialty, made with grilled pork, white rice noodle, fresh herbs, and served in a fish sauce based dipping sauce.  It served as a kind of “do it yourself” model, so you can adjust all of ingredients to your liking. It. Was. So. Good.  With photos of Obama lining the walls, and his stool and table now protected in plexiglass, it’s taste is good enough that they don’t need to advertise that Obama ate there ( but they heavily do).

Although the title is PHO-nomenal, we haven’t actually eaten Pho yet, a Vietnamese soup similar to Bun Cha. Our Vietnamese food bucket list is long, but we’re definitely up for the challenge.

 

Disclaimer: This is intended to be unbiased and completely nonpolitical. I encourage readers to do their own research on this interesting subject.

You’ve heard of Vietnam and you likely associate it with negative things. Take all that baggage and check it at the door until the end of this post. To do this place justice requires some background and an open mind. I am only touching ever-so-lightly on a very complicated and intricate history. So, here we go:

Modern day Vietnam was part of Imperial China for around a millennium. About 1000AD, the Vietnamese people fought a war with China and won. They became their own country and various dynasty’s came and went until around the 19th century. Then along came the French. They saw what everyone sees when you look at a map of Vietnam: *Toronto real estate agent voice* location, location, location. That and a society less developed, both militarily and politically, than their own. Resulting to brute force they slowly began conquering Vietnam and southeast Asia.

The French weren’t quite the deal makers the English were when it came to colonization; there was bloodshed and things got very messy. They inserted puppet leaders (something the British did with finesse) but conditions were rough for the locals under French rule and resentment simmered among the Vietnamese population. Eventually, the French held all Vietnam, Laos, Cambodia, and a portion of Thailand. This portion of land was named French Indochina and became a jewel in France’s colonial crown. The French held this land for roughly a century and in that time left a lasting influence. Vietnam’s main cities have beautiful colonial architecture and their language and food are a unique fusion of East and West.

“Hanoi Hilton”, as American POW’s nicknamed it, was a French built jail which has been converted into a museum. John McCain’s pilot suit was saved during his crash. He was imprisoned here.

Enter in a young man named (one of his aliases) Ho Chi Minh. He’s smart, driven and deeply patriotic to his country. He travels to Europe and studies in France. He learns about Marxism in the Soviet Union and this resonates with him. He moves back to northern Vietnam and puts in motion the beginnings of a new political party. Along comes WW2 and shakes the world to its core. France falls to Germany and France’s colony’s, all of whom had suffered brutality, begin flirting with the idea of independence. Come the end of WW2 and Europe’s in shambles and two major players have arisen to new heights. Those being, the United States and the Soviet Union. Their political beliefs are polar opposite and they’re in full military mode.

France desperately tries to hold onto the remnants of its dwindling empire. It pours men into French Indochina to regain sovereignty but Ho Chi Minh uses guerilla tactics and drains France’s willpower to continue. During this time, China becomes communist and gives support to Ho Chi Minh. This resource brings an end to France’s colonization of Indochina and leaves a unified north Vietnam. The United States begins to fear the whole continent of Asia will fall to communism and provides support to the south Vietnamese. Things intensify and become more polarized between the north and south Vietnamese people. Two decades pass of a politically driven proxy war between the major powers of the world and Vietnam is the battlefield. The Vietnam war is horrendous to all involved and the suffering and lasting impact is almost impossible to measure. The war is extremely controversial in the United States and spurs important civil rights movements that change the nation. At the conclusion of the war, Vietnam emerges as The Socialist Republic of Vietnam and begins its march to brighter days. In recent years, Vietnam has been financially successful with impressive growth and modernization.

Ho Chi Minh is regarded as the unifying force of Vietnam and for that he is exalted. His remains are in the Ho Chi Minh mausoleum located in the center of Hanoi. The Vietnamese people seem to have moved on from the war. Society hums along and it seems that all are happy about peace and independence. Their country has forever been changed by powers larger than them. The people here have suffered greatly for a long time. Now is their time to live freely and try to give their children a better life.