We drove all
day towards a goal without a name. Everything sounds more or less
similar, two days ago we where in Nha Trang, yesterday we passed Da
Trang and hopefully, tomorrow, we'll reach Da Nang. No question we
get confused sometimes. Some names stick because they sound funny,
like Binh Dinh or Bien Dong, but apart from them we only learn the
names of the cities we've passed.
Today Becky wanted some extra attention
and tore of a valve. Maybe she was jealous that Gretchen had got so
many pit stops, maybe she wanted a rest from the scorching sun. If I
had to guess, then my bet would be on the big intercity buses that
roam freely on the highways and mud roads alike. With a demonic
screech from the deepest reaches of hell they horn at you when they
pass at a speed of the Roadrunner. I have myself sought refuge a few
times if only to get a breather from the stress they put on everyone
in the vast vicinity of where they roam.
So it's been slow progress on the road
today, with many stops for petrol, oil, water and food. We don't seem
to make the distance we once hoped for, but little does that matter
with such friendly people. It's possible that they just make fun of
us, but there's always someone coming up to us, not always to talk
since the language barrier is like a massive Berlin wall between us,
but just to make contact in any way. It's also always done with a big
friendly smile. I like that. It's nice. It's probably not healthy to
get this much attention, but for now is it nice.
Dad seems to have fun with it. Soon
after lunch he tried to marry me of to some local diner owners
daughter in the middle of the jungle. I was less keen.
Quote of the day: "Let's have a shot of something local!" - Stefan, age 56, before dinner.
//Nisse
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