Into the mud

With sadness but also big expectations we left DaLat and the wonderful Dreams hotel this morning, heading for Nha Trang. We were told that the road was new and therefore not included in all guide books. 30 km downhill was waiting, sometimes as steep as 30% according to rumour. Will we master this I wondered silently. 

Well we did. Actually it was the view, the wind and the rain that became our main problems. And one or two busses wanting our lane at the wrong moment of course. 

Later that day the importance of eco-driving became obvious when one of us all of a sudden had a bike that not wanted to move any further. Becky simply refused. The only problem we are able to fix is what we in Swedish call "soppatorsk", an embarassing situation that always ought to be avoided. We found a mobile petrol delivery man and Becky was with us again.

But what about the title? Well, we ended our day taking a mud bath ouside Nha Trang. We had a full body peeling, talked about density and had a great time. Very funny indeed, relaxing, grey and contempary.

//Stefan

Towards the beachfront

As we set of from Dà Lat had Gretchen got a new look. Strapped to her side was a “Give me some attention”-yellow flag which was a bit too tall and certainly turned a few heads. Foreigners and locals alike stopped and starred as the convoy of Swedish stupidity passed, each one with a stupid flag waving in the wind. Team Dad and Gretchen had adopted Green and Yellow for their overall screaming look while me and Becky had settled for the more sensible Blue and Red.

My mood was not on top as we searched for the exit from Dà Lat. A headache had troubled me all night and Becky had sympathetically develop similar symptom. She was tired and low on power, just like me, but this was soon to change as we headed up in the mountain on twisting roads. Our spirit raised for each turn and soon we blasted off, up and down the snaky roads, until we, eventually, reached the clouds.

Cloud or fog, the sight grew shorter and the roads slipperier. Pretty soon was the sight limited to the bike in front, and shortly after that disappeared as well. Alone in the mountain, barely capable of making out the the side of the road, me and Becky soldiered on at decreasing speed. We tried the horn but no one answered. We tried the phone but no connection.

Later, hope returned. Gloriously erupting from the fog was the yellow flag of Gretchen, soon followed by Dad and our team was reunited again. The clouds dispersed and the sight grew longer. The majestic sight that soon followed made me howl of joy. Down towards the see this vivid green mountain tumbled in endless twists and turns, massive gorges on one side and beautiful waterfalls from huge hilltops on the other. We could see the yellow flatland spread out in the valley far below. It was undisputed the best ride so far.

//Nisse

... and let's slip the dogs of war!

Once again the battles have been raging on the muddy roads outside Dà Lat. Bike versus Road, Man versus Nature, and unlike yesterday; today there were casualties. We've been scuffling around in the hinterlands most of the day, struggling up and tumbling down steep hills while avoiding pot holes and chickens. It's been a lovely rough day and everything where going so well until Dad lost his bike keys in the middle of nowhere. Our struggle across this beautiful country was going so well and we were rapidly collecting points, because it's always important to collect those points, but now the scores are closing in. Let's have a look at the score board:

1 - 0 Bike and Man opens up strong with surviving Ho Chi Minh

1 - 1 Road and Nature counter with classical "Nail in Tire", making the poor travelers miss their over-night goal.

2 - 1 Bike and Man pushes on strong and makes it to Dà Lat before sunset and without any major difficulties.

3 -1 The lead increases as Bike and Man fool around the entire day without breaking a sweat, figuratively, as both Road and Nature weakly tries to hold them back.

3 - 2 Pride goes before the fall and Man makes a fatal blunder when loosing his keys, rendering his bike useless. 

This gives the Man and his Bike a slight lead still, but tomorrows ride east could easily tie up the scores. While heading towards Nha Trang we will pass through Da Chais and Khanh Vinh, or Pass of Evident Suffering and Road of Endless Peril as we've suitably renamed them, before hopefully reaching the coast. We've adapted to the local custom of naming everything endless times, giving me and Becky, also Blue Bullet or Barbara, a distinct advantage against the Road and Nature, probably. Bets are still up and anything can happen!

//Nisse

A busy day in Da Lat

We reached Da Lat yesterday, in accordance to schedule. It is a nice crowded city in the Vietnamese alps having a population of approx 200.000. The city is so lovely that even the fighting forces avoided it during the Vietnam war. Here we spend a few relaxing days travelling without any luggage on the vehicle. What a difference, as we may sit wherever we want on the saddle.
Today we managed two pagodas, one flower garden, the old railway station, a palace, a crazy house and all this just because of easy transports on the motor bikes. The day continued with maintenance ordering, tires, backmirrors, brakes, bulbs etc and a successful search for a new helmet. It is my forth so far, a nice white one with possibility for eye protection as well. And no, I haven' t smasched the others. They just become too small after a while.
Tomorrow we plan to climb a hill and the day after we are going down to the beach of Nha Trang. For those of you of my age, you might remember the feeling driving a scooter, Push Alabama in my case. The freedom, the wind, the speed, the excitement, never to be forgotten. This trip is just the same, although changing roads and conditions, slightly faster, much longer and even more exciting then when I was fiftheen.
//Stefan

Adapt to surrounding conditions

What a vacation. This is completely different from my ordinary way of living and I believe that vacations  shall be different to normal routines.

We have neither tennisrackets nor MLI coats with us. We try to do it the way the people living here does. We have pre-loved bikes, we eat on the streets and we rest in hostels. Helmets are by law, but they look in many manyndifferent ways. No formula 1 equipment for sure, nothing bought in Sweden. It is warm, it is humid, and when it rains you had to take cover. Rapidly.
And we love it ...

We did not make it to Bao Loc today, halfway between HCMC and Da Lat. but we were close when the light went out. A flat tire in the late afternoon somewhat spoiled our plan. The tire was repaired by the second house on the right hand side, there is a mechanic in at least 20% of the houses. And the roads are crowded by bikes. Fascinating and not that scary, because the speed is rather limited.

Tomorrow we continue to Da Lat at high altitude. If the good weather remains, we most likely stays there a few days. Looking forward to that.

We spend money. Dinner took another 40000 away.
//Stefan

Eat my fumes!

Madness would probably summarize this day rather neatly, all the way from the five-lane motorways in Ho Chi Minh to the tiny mud roads between Tân Phù, or Phú Son as everyone called it, and Madaguoil, also “commonly” known as Da Huoai. We've been able to pronounce absolutely nothing today besides, possibly, the word(s?) for Thank you. It's close to the Swedish word for old, so Dad, feeling a bit old, took this close to heart. It only accumulated laughter, but that probably means point for trying.

We'd planned to set off at sunrise but there was some short delays. We took our time with the breakfast, carefully strapped our bags to the bikes and then rearranged the reception when one of the bikes decided not to participate in the exercise. I payed what the raging bike had broken and then we set off. Like two new born horses we staggered out in the mayhem, dodging crazed buses and blending in the schools of bikers. By chance did we stumble upon a road leading out of the city and soon we flew down a highway, hopefully heading somewhere close to east. By then had our talent on motorbiking grown immensely.

“The plumbing doesn't work!” Dad yells from the bathroom. We never made it to Bao Loc which had been the goal, but settled for a village somewhere in the mountain. Dad dragged on to our caravan a flat tire just as the sun was setting and even if a mechanic was found within 20 meters was it still time to get some shelter for the night. This village provides some noodle soup and a surprising amount of 50s traveling cases, so tomorrow I'll have an entirely new look on the baggage-arrangement. Tomorrow I'll be a legit road warrior!

//Nisse

Cry Havoc!

'I'm the road warrior!' My voice blasts over the roaring traffic, somewhere in fairly central Saigon. It's still unclear whether it's called Saigon or Ho Chi Minh, but tomorrow that'll be a problem of the past. We've got our bikes, we've seen the museums and we're ready to leave this ant-hill of a city. I imagine we can finally get some peace and quite on the roads heading to Dà Lat.

Our bikes, suitable named Blue Bullet Barbara and Green Goblin Gretchen, works brilliantly. They were sold to us by two jolly good British fellas who'd already rode them here from the north. There was a slight problem finding the funds for the purchase until we learned that only 1 in 18 foreign-exchange shops do exchange both ways. The jolly good fellas preferred the transaction to be carried out in US dollars, but even this road block was soonishly passed.

Since then we've bought flags, because if you're as handsome as we are with our sweaty t-shirts and sandals, then you want to be seen. We've also unsuccessfully searched for a mechanic, lost the keys, bought some key chains and had a few beers. Sitting at the bar we then pondered the fact that we'd withdrawn 12.000.000 today and that this basically had bought us our freedom. Tomorrow we're taking our freedom for a ride!

//Nisse

Ho Chi Minh city

Staden myllrar av liv. Och den är översvämmad av motorcyklar. Man korsar gatorna med stort mod och utan ett sådant kommer man helt enkelt inte över. Som kontrast kommer dessutom ibland ett par gamla gummor medckarakteristisk konad hatt på cykel.
Vi letar nu motorcyklar som bäst och vi har bytt till Vietnamesiska simkort. Om någon måste nå oss är e-post fortfarande bäst. Men det nya numret är +84 120 441 1428
Det skall regna idag på dagen, något som vi också måste lära oss hantera.

//Stefan

Sheremetyevo

The trip to Moscow was shorter than we expected, and the five hours waiting will get smooth as we already are at the right location. All worries about not having a transfer visa is gone as we (ought to) have left the last passport checkout. A long journey is in front of us and then we land in the crowded Ho Chi Minh city.

//Stefan

Daddy have been educating granddad on the usage of computers for more then a few years now, it's not unusual  that granddad calls for help when he for example accidentally unplugged the keyboard, but for the past months they'd been practicing Skype so we can maintain contact from around the world. Now when reaching Sheremetyevo Airport can't Daddy get his own Skype to work so that's all for nothing. He's a bit disappointed.

//Nisse

Delay

The fall caught up with us in Sweden and the cold is slowly taking a hold of Stockholm. I like the fall, the colours on the trees shift in beautiful nuances and a general cosiness sweeps over the population in the north. The big comfy winter clothes are taken down from the attic, but I'd expected to be somewhere else by this time. We've been delayed two weeks from our travel to Vietnam, due to massive chaos and death all around the Vietnamese coast caused by insane rainfall and wind probably reaching far above the known scales to measure. It didn't really seem suiting to go on a holiday in a country more in need of doctors and engineers then two lost tourists making a mess in the wilderness but now the calm have returned after two weeks. The tickets are bought, the backs are packed and we're ready to go.

Boarding that first plane away from Sweden have been the only thing on my mind for the past month and in the extra two weeks I've become desperate. Someone told me that there's a difference between looking forward to something and obsessively longing and waiting for it to happen, but I've been struggling to put the trip on hold and focus on making something happen back home. After many long goodbyes with friends I couldn't take up contact again just to take of again in a few days, meaning I've lived undercover these days. Instead I've retreated to adventurous documentaries and silly games, hidden in my room without dignity.

I've also reminisced about previous travels and the amazing things I've seen. Themes from Lord of the Rings tend to play in my head while picturing these amazing sites; mountains above the clouds, corals crackling with life, the most distant national parks or the windiest costs, but tomorrow, finally, I get to share this experience with my father.

//Nisse