Hanoi to Mai Chau

I arrived in Hanoi the morning of April 26th, and left the morning of April 28th on what was to be a ten day journey on a motorbike by myself to the Northwest section of Vietnam, said to be some of the most beautiful sites in the country.

Before I leaving Hanoi for my epic motorbike journey, I was able to walk and cycle around the busy metropolitan and ever-traffic-laden town- around Hoan Kiem Lake, through the Old Quarter where I am staying, visited the Ngoc Son Temple located across the Huc Bridge on the Lake, and after trying ice cream at the famous 'Fanny's', I took in a Water Puppetry show at the Municipal Water Puppet Theater. I also had some very tasty barbeque at an outdoor Vietnamese BBQ restaurant where you grill your own meat on the table, in the company of an old highschool friend's brother who happens to be living out in Hanoi teaching English! Hadn't seen him in over ten years, and this was probably our first one-on-one conversation we'd ever had, and yet in the middle of a Vietnamese city on the other side of the world, it felt as natural and familiar as anything. Good 'ol east coast connections and memories!

Throughout my explorations of the city, it was also my mission to get ready for my Northwest motorbike tour that I estimated to be 6-8 days. My to-do list for my motorbike trip:

Buy:
-proper hiking shoes
-medium-sized backpack
-toilet paper
-floss (never found this one)
-map
-motorbike (rented through my hotel)

I wound up renting a Honda motorbike, probably 100 or 125cc, or somewhere in between. I was a bit skeptical upon first viewing the vehicle, wondering if it would get me up through the mountain roads that awaited me. I had heard through people and travel books that the Russian Minske was the bike to take on long distance and rugged road travel in Vietnam, but all of the Vietnamese men I spoke with told me that the Minske had many problems, and that unless I was a skilled mechanic, I should opt for the Honda. I took his advice, as my mechanical skills are slim to none. As it turned out, the Honda was an EXCELLENT bike, and took me through hell and high water over the next bunch of days of rough terrain.

Day 1: Hanoi to Mai Chau, 135km
I woke up, had a good breakfast in my hotel, and made my way out of Hanoi. Leaving the city took the good part of an hour, as I wove in and out of morning traffic and finally out of the noise and hubbub of the city. About 2 or so hours into the journey, I stopped at a Pho restaurant on the side of the road. A few minutes later I passed a pair of Westerners stopped with their motorbikes, and made a quick U-turn to go back and talk to them. There I met Loic and Peter, two Belgian guys on their way to Mai Chau, and on a mission to Ho Chi Minh from there. Within the first minute of talking it was determined that we would ride together the rest of the way to Mai Chau, and I tell you, it was a blessing that I found them, as the next half of the day proved to be quite intense and would have felt a whole lot scarier and stressful if I had not been accompanied by these Belgian Adventurers.

The next hour or so was fun and easy, making our way through various towns, stopping for drinks and hard-boiled eggs, when it started raining. At first it was just a drizzle, but as we found ourselves navigating up and down steep mountain curves and hills, the rain began to come down harder and harder, until I couldn't see the road from the rain stabbing sharply into my eyes. We pulled over once, and tried driving again. Finally, we decided to take cover when we spotted a hut just off the side of the road, and pulled our bikes up next to it. There was an elderly lady inside this hut, and she invited us to come inside and sit down, and wait out the rain. Her grandson was in the room, deeply immersed in his cellphone, uninterested in the three foreigners that had invaded his bedroom/living room. The lady and her grandson spoke no English, and we spoke no Vietnamese, but we managed to communicate nonetheless, with smiles, laughs, gestures, and facial expressions. Perhaps the occasional word from an English-Vietnamese dictionary, and some cookies purchased by the Belgians from the lady.

We stayed in that hut for about one hour, during which time we had our first experience of observing the Vietnamese bamboo water pipe. At first I thought it was a musical instrument, and naively cried 'Oh! She's going to play some music!' when she pulled out a lighter, and began puffing away from this large bamboo pipe. She smoked from the side of her mouth, and with each exhale she made eye contact with me and smiled a devious smile. It made me laugh and we all enjoyed watching this mysterious ritual.

The rain finally calmed down, and we made our way back out to the road. The rain came and went many times over the next hour or so, but as we climbed many more mountain hills, we were all shivering from the cool mountain air that was hitting us at 40-50km an hour from our moving motorbikes, and we had gotten wet from the rain before putting on our rain ponchos. We took cover at a Pho stand at the top of a hill, and thought we ordered 3 bowls, but as we warmed ourselves by a fire for 15-20 mins, we realized that there was no food on its way. We were cold and hungry, but we determined that it was going to be dark soon, and we still had a ways to go, and much more climbing to do.

The views we passed were breathtaking, with fog encapsulating the mountain peaks and the green of the trees glowing from their perches, but as the rain returned, and the roads were curvier than ever, there was no possibility of stopping to take photos. Just as darkness fell upon us, we slowed down into a town, and were approached by an eager group of people, telling us to come stay with them in their home. I remembered that this was the town where 'homestays' are the only option for accommodation, and now my question about how that homestay was to be found was answered. We followed the main guy on our motorbikes for fifteen minutes in the dark, not knowing how far we were going, or if this was really how things worked around here, but just crossed our fingers and hoped it would all work out, and that there would be food and a hot shower when we finally arrived at our unknown destination.

The homestays in Mai Chau are Traditional Thai Stilted Houses, and this is where we stayed that night. Downstairs is where the family lives, in the back, with a dining room area in the front, open-air. Upstairs are bamboo woven floors and walls, where travelers sleep on thin mattresses under mosquito netting. The view from the upstairs dining area (also open-air) was beautiful, even in the dark. The insects and frogs were filling the humid air with their night songs, and I felt my heart leap with joy at our newest destination. The Belgians negotiated a good price for the three of us that included dinner, sleeping, and breakfast, and on my way to a hot shower, I already knew that I would not be leaving the next morning, as this place needed to be explored, and while the next three towns I was planning to ride to remained mysterious in nature/setting, I had a strong intuition that this town was special, a treasure not to be missed.