Vietnam - Cau Treo Border to Than Hòa

Good Afternoon Vietnam!!!!

After a climb up to the Laos Nam Phao Border Checkpoint, we were directed to Immigration in an old looking building. Inside it was dark and the official was behind some glass in an unlit booth. We peered into the gloom. We could hardly see him and he seemed like he had barely enough light to see our passports, but we proceeded without issue.
We crossed into ‘no man’s land’ after a final quick check of our exit stamp and wheeled our bikes to the Vietnamese Border Checkpoint.
A large metallic silver edifice greeted us. A Soviet inspired megalith of a building, futuristic in vision when built. In reality, stark, reflecting the socialist architectural style. We had read unfavourable Google reviews of this Cau Treo border crossing. Tales of rudeness, extortion and petty officialdom of the border staff abound. With trepidation, we entered the large building that felt dusty and under used and approached the small immigration booth.
It turned out to be quick and easy! No questions, no requests for money and no checks on our bicycles. Even receiving a smile at my first attempt at a Vietnamese “thank you”.
After a final check at the barrier of our entry stamps, we were in Vietnam. - Country No.8.

Our first few days were a bit of challenge. Oppressive heat and humidity made the cycling harder despite being acclimatised after several months in hot conditions. However, Vietnam was more humid than Thailand or Laos. We found the timing of finding food a struggle and meat options outweighed vegetable dishes.
The traffic was chaotic and loud. Horns blared out on some new language of the road we had yet to understand. The people seemed brash, matter of fact and louder than both the Thai and Lao. Conversations between people were shouted, even if people were stood next to each other, and personal space was not a factor. Animal welfare appeared questionable as we noticed frequent live transporting of animals - in the heat, and in cramped conditions. Throwing all of this into the mix caused us to be a bit low.

On Day 1 of Vietnam we were welcomed by a socialist triumph of engineering. The QL8 highway (it was indeed high) and clung to the densely forested hillside. It was mostly empty, other than the odd car and a few big trucks that ascended slowly, or crawled slowly downward, accompanied by smoking brakes.
For us, a long wonderful descent was to follow. Nearly 10 miles of down from the Cau Treo Border at 2400 feet to the valley bottom far below.
We had crossed a watershed and the mountain range bordering Laos and Vietnam, passing from the drier, arid climate to a moist, humid one. The sun was hot and the distant hills appeared in faded layers until they dissolved into the haze. All around us large mountains covered in dense forest rose high above.
We freewheeled downward sedately, to the deafening noise of cicadas, as their chorus built to crescendo.

Amanda stopped to let a large truck past on a blind bend. As she continued she spotted that the truck had stopped further along in front of her. As she rode past, a hand appeared from out of the drivers cab and in it, a bottle of water! The grinning driver gave it to her in another act of kindness that we have been lucky to be the recipient of.
Reaching the valley below we followed the highway for a bit and then turned off onto a backroad, crossing over a hill and the along side the Nhan Pho River. Many Vietnamese flags, a yellow star on a red background, lined the roadside as we passed through villages.

We arrived at Tay Son, our first town and we tried to absorb the new sights as we rode along the main street to our hotel.
Pausing briefly to withdraw some local money (another country with excessively large denominations). We became a novelty for some local teenagers. They asked us a lot of questions, rapidly and loudly, shouting their enquiries as if we were deaf. “Where you going?””Where have you come from?”. “What is your name?” “How old are you?” etc.
Managing an escape, we arrived at the hotel, a tall thin white building, grand looking but seemingly deserted - we saw no other guests.

As dusk approached, so did a storm. The sky turned a charcoal grey and the wind picked up. We watched lightning strobe in the distance, counting as the storm moved closer. A crack of thunder and the rain came. Suddenly, all the power went off. I went down to reception and the man who checked us in was sitting on the stairs smoking. I asked him if the power was out. “Yes” he nonchalantly replied as if this was commonplace. “When do you think it will be back on?” I said. He mentioned 8pm which was over two and a half hours away. I later read that power outages in the hotter months are quite common due to demand, and reduction in hydropower generation from lack of water in the dry season.
As Vietnam is rapidly developing, so will its need for power supply capacity and accordingly in places, its infrastructure often struggles. The storm may have contributed too but the outcome was that we were to be without the luxury of lights, AC, hot water, a kettle and WiFi for a period.

I watched the rain bucket down from our window. The hubbub of the main street quietened as people headed for shelter.
A group of kids entertained themselves by throwing themselves across the shiny tiled forecourt of our hotel. An impromptu water skid pan!
Watching the three boys, their interaction with each other and childish mannerisms as they flung themselves with gusto, throwing shapes and posturing as they got soaked, was very entertaining.

Darkness fell and the whole town too was veiled in darkness. We ventured out to try to find something to eat in the dark. Picking our way along the street, mostly in the road, lit only by the headlights of vehicles, we peered into the gloom of shopfronts to determine if it was a place to eat, or someone’s business, or just a home - we couldn’t be sure.
Places to eat were of the no frills variety. Often outdoors or in front of a shuttered shop front, with a small open kitchen and some plastic low chairs and tables. A few had fired up a portable generator and lit their space by portable lights, bathing those sat around in a dim halo, highlighting families hunched over bowls of steaming phò, busily eating with chopsticks.
We eventually ended up back near the hotel, and managed to get food, including the largest portion of rice we have had on our journey so far. A struggle for the two of us to finish!

Day 2 was full of counterpoints. Our first Vietnamese Salt coffee was a good start. We were on the receiving end of lots of “hellos” from enthusiastic smiling school kids as they passed us on mopeds and electric scooters, making their way home from school for their lunch break.
Spotting our first conical hat wearing ladies, and of some stunning landscapes and bearing witness to a country with a difficult history.
An encounter with an unhelpful and very rude lady at a mobile phone store, where Amanda attempted to sort out a Sim Card, soured the day and that was the start of a bit of downward trend for our mood.
Our realisation that Vietnam has a long lunchtime - most things shut down between 12 and 2pm. Kids go home from school. Businesses close and the streets become deserted. We found it very hard to find somewhere to eat. Nearing 2pm and our desperation must have shown as a kind lady on a scooter asked if we needed help. She guided us to follow her to a sandwich shop, to get a bán mi (baguette style sandwich) but it was unfortunately closed. A lovely gesture by her, she then lead us to a grocery store, where we cobbled together a ‘picnic’.
Food is important as we have discussed before. Both as fuel and nutrition and also as a crutch and constant even if other things are going less well.
It was a something that we could not get a handle on for several days, as we passed through mostly ‘nowhere’ and food options seemed minimal.

Hitting the famous Ho Chi Minh Highway, running from Hanoi to Ho Chi Minh City (the former Saigon), we would follow it north.
Although we would miss the remoter, rugged and apparently, beautiful sections further south, we hoped the ride would be interesting.
What materialised was a two-lane highway without a hard shoulder. Without any direct alternative and no other route parallel for north-south-north traffic, the highway was very busy. Trucks of all sizes, along with vans, cars and motorcycles used this route. The common thread was the use of horns. Constant beeping to warn of approach, passing or obstruction and the driving culture was fast, give little quarter and what seemed to us, to have little to no consideration for any road sense, with frequent overtaking in stupid places.
Was this going to be the theme? If so, it was not going to be enjoyable.
Our mood dropped and the smiles and hellos no longer buoyed us. We replied through grimaced smiles, or not at all.

Relieved to turn off late afternoon to head to the Homestay where we arranged to camp, we turned off the highway onto a dirt track that led through terraced tea plantations.
As the gloaming of the setting sun painted the sky orange, we arrived to the site of a traditional house on stilts, a couple of cabins and what looked like an terraced area with tables and chairs,
Greeted by a couple of English lads, Jordan and Ed, we realised we were at the right place and the lady that owned and ran the place appeared. S
The four of us were the sole guests. Amanda asked if we could set our tent up on the seated area, which was flat and under cover (and hopefully creepy crawly free!).
After making ‘camp’ and showering we joined the chaps for a communal meal. A hearty home cooked variety of food - rice, vegetarian spring rolls, stir fried greens and tofu! It was fantastic and we had our first Vietnamese beer along with it.
Jordan and Ed were touring by motorcycle. They started in Hanoi where they each bought a bike. They were aiming for Ho Chi Minh City, where they would sell them. They noted it was more cost effective than hiring motorcycles and that they would lose no money on the bikes. Ed said it allowed them maximum flexibility of route and stopping places on their journey.
The place had an incredible variety of insects. Small and large. Moths, beetles, crickets and fireflies flitted about. We were in wonder of the biodiversity and had never seen so many! They were attracted by the lights and landed on our tent. A particularly large beetle, 2 inches in length landed on Amanda, giving her a start! Clambering into the tent, we hoped for no further close encounters!

Day 3 and we had breakfast early as we wanted to get as much morning riding in before it got too hot.
As we cycled along, we started to see vehicles with live animals being transported. Chickens, ducks, pigs and cattle, all carried in cramped and painful looking conditions. It was very hard to witness. Temperatures were in the mid to high 30’s.
A vehicle approached from behind us, its loudspeaker playing a recorded message in Vietnamese, on repeat. As it passed us, we saw a motorcycle and fixed to the back pillion were three cages. Small, like fishing creels, formed of chicken wire. In two of them were dogs. With no room to move, the cage wire digging into them, each dog confined to its own wire cell. Squashed in, their expression pitiful and heartbreaking to see. Dog meat is consumed in Vietnam, and although less popular with the younger generation it is more common in the north.
How it made me feel and why this was any different to eating other animals was a recurring thought in my head for many of the ensuing miles. Confronted with the open lack of concern and compassion for animal welfare has something to do with it. This occurs at home in the UK but it is hidden. The world of factory farming is present but one does not have to face it. This is why it made me feel s**t. I was a hypocrite.
We were unfortunate to share the road and follow the motorcycle dog catcher on and off for over an hour and a half. Travelling slowly, we frequently overtook it and got away from it, only to have it pass us as the vendor pulled over to stop, or turn into a side road to ply his trade in the roadside houses and villages off the highway. He would appear again, this time with one less dog and then later, with another different dog.
The repeated encounter made me feel like my eyelids were being forced open to watch what I didn’t want to witness.
I can’t really describe it further and want to forget those first few days for many reasons. I apologise if this is upsetting to read but I want to remember how upset I felt.

The cycling again felt dangerous. It made us anxious. We focused on riding and less so the experience and landscape. We found that our focus became blinkered, both toward the physical riding and also toward our feeling for this country.
We were less enthusiastic to respond to the hellos we received and young boys thought they were clever by zooming past on moped and flipping us the bird or making other rude gestures.
Although we were very much engrossed in keeping an eye of traffic, potholes and the inconsistencies of the road we were riding on - having to weave in and out to avoid something, this was of no consequence to traffic behind us, or in front.
Whilst focusing on behind, the bigger hazard was that approaching. I won’t say any more but it was hairy on a couple of occasions.
The thing I couldn’t rationalise was that the smiles and friendliness of people is that of the same people who drive and who seem unconcerned about the safety of themselves and other road users. What seemed to us as lunacy may be a cultural trope and attitude to driving here and one we may not ever be comfortable with.

We arrived in Tân Ký at Kilometre Zero of the Ho Chi Minh Highway, a historic landmark and commemorated by a large obelisk, plaque and some military vehicles parked outside. At our hotel we enquired about a room at the desk. We couldn’t figure out the pricing structure. The receptionist told us one price that was different to that advertised and she wouldn’t give us a room with a double bed, despite trying to request one.
We surmised that the double bed rooms were being ‘saved’ for those wanting a bit of “how’s your father” as the hotel was most likely a ‘love hotel’. A common occurrence, these hotels act as a safe place for dating couples to go since doing so at home may be frowned upon and difficult in a household of multiple generations, with little to no privacy.

We escaped the utilitarian room and went to a cafe, a couple of doors down and then dinner at the small family run restaurant adjacent.

Day 4 and relieved that the nights hotel business was quiet to nonexistent, we diverted through the town next morning g to grab some rolls and fruit for lunch, and circumvent the ‘dead zone’ a phrase we coined for the the daily lunchtime shutdown.
Another day, another bit of highway and acceptance of an ‘A to B’ ride.
Let’s just get there. The heat made it a struggle. The humidity was back and the sun was strong although fortunately the sky was hazy, giving some respite.
Passing nothing much in the way of food-stops, we called into something that looked like it might serve food. A sort of leisure park with a man made lake, some swan pedalos, a small ‘cafe’ and cabins.
We were in luck and ate on a floating pontoon on the lake, along with a raucous group of families who we think were on some kind of work outing. A basic meal of egg and rice was all that could be mustered up in this meat and fish heavy country (based on what we had seen so far).
Fuelled, we departed and as we rode along, the landscape became a bit more striking. Lush hills pockmarked with limestone crags reared up either side of the road as it undulated through a region that seemed to be based around an agricultural economy.
Arriving late at the small motel and welcoming by the young English speaking son of the family, a forestry consultant by trade, he helped us check in. We paid 200,000 Dong (£6) for a room!
This cheapness showed. Dark, gloomy, dank, musty, dilapidated, mosquito ridden and smelling of drain are all descriptions that could be applied. However, what do you expect for 6 quid?
We set the tent up as a makeshift mozzie net, to aid undisturbed slumber on what was a very hard bed!
Lady luck was absent for me that night as this is the night that I happened to throw my guts up, and expel from the ‘other end’ in violent fashion.
Food poisoning from our lunch stop? Who knows? Amanda and I both ate the same rice. Was it the egg, or something else? Whatever bacteria or virus it was, it was horrible, made more memorable by the lack of sleep and grim room. Not terribly nice for Amanda either!
The morning after and lacking in energy. I felt very lethargic and not feeling like I could cycle the normally easy 35-40 miles (a modest day for us).
I couldn’t keep anything down so Amanda revised our plan and found another hotel 12 miles further on and splitting one longer day into two shorter days - chipping away at the distance but moving forward at least and in hope of somewhere less unpleasant to be ill in.
We set off and I toiled for the short distance but Amanda patiently paced us as I needed to rest often. With no appetite and nothing in my tank, I managed to drag my carcass along and we reached the newly built small modern hotel in the middle of nowhere. It was clean and comfortable and a provided a chance to rest up, as were arrived just after lunchtime. Still struggling with keeping things down, I ate little and drank little but we agreed to continue next day and hope that I could manage the distance and the heat.

Day 5 and we reached Than Hóa mid afternoon and called in at a Pharmacy to get some electrolyte powder to try to replenish salts that were lost to the porcelain.
Checking in to a tall, ornate, white hotel that looked relatively new, we pulled up, and met Neil, who arrived as we did. He rolled up on his slick titanium road bike. Lightly laden and not camping, he was travelling with minimal baggage. Originally from Yorkshire but living and working in London, he was a self employed crane operator by trade. He told us he had a Chinese wife and a house in Thailand and spends two months each year travelling by bicycle. He first visited SE Asia in his 50’s and had toured in other countries prior to that. Now close to retirement he plans to do some longer trips in Asia with the advantage of the base of his Thai holiday home.
He loved Vietnam and raved about it, evangelical about it being the best place he has toured. We didn’t have the heart to disagree, based on our feeling and experience of Vietnam up until now - including the traffic, driving, food, attitude to animals and at our current low ebb. We would have placed it below our enjoyment of Thailand and Laos.
Amanda chatted with him a while longer. I had to rush off to get to our room and throw up in privacy, so found it hard to concentrate and have a good quality chat as I tried to hold back as long as possible 🤮

We hoped for a good nights sleep and that I would awake next day with a bit more energy and reclaim my appetite.
Amanda too was a low and we both wanted to ignite some enthusiasm for this country. One that I have always wanted to visit. Roll on Day 6.Read more