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AN ADVENTURE MOTORCYCLE TOUR

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VIETNAM

_______________________________

A country where once the roads were turned

into a sea of bicycles has now become a

country with huge waves of mechanical

scooters. A country that was ripped apart and

sustained brutal killings during the later 60’s

and early 70’s. Since then, this country has

changed in so many ways but still retains

many of the age old traditions and is a

provider of some of the most delicious food

as well as fantastic landscapes in all of Asia

Vietnam is an awe inspiring country, with little

funding and government support the inhabit-

ants of this land have learned through gener-

ations to fend for themselves. Most of what

they eat is harvested from their own land,

they make their own alcohol and even gener-

ate their own income, a remarkable feat you

will agree given the poverty that this country

has experienced over many decades. They

have adapted and adapted well.

But what makes this country even more spe-

cial is that provides a phenomenal stomping

ground for touring on by motorcycle. Every

corner, every hill climb and every mountain

pass offers endless neck twitching scenery

and impressive sights. It should be one of the

top five places to visit on a motorcycle on

everyone’s bucket list.

____________________________________

www.guidedmotorbiketours.co.uk

Worldwide Motorcycle Adventure Touring

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4 am, I'm up and desperate for coffee. My

flight leaves Heathrow at 10.50am. The

coach from Bournemouth was prompt,

comfy and hassle free, leaving for

Heathrow at 5am. Arriving at Heathrow Terminal

4 I grab some food. Coffee, Pancakes and bacon

did it's job in waking me up. Now fed, I realise I

can check in, even though it's only 7.50am and 3

hours before lift off. The next couple of hours I

watch a film on my phone that I had downloaded

previously. Sat in departure lounge I was able to

make use of the charging point, just as I sat down a

mouse ran across the floor and under my feet, bit

unexpected, still, might find it on the menu in

24hrs!

The flight was delayed and we didn't get off the

ground until 11.30. Shortly after take off food was

served, dry chicken in a creamy sauce with mash

and broccoli plus all the usual extras, chocolate

mouse, crackers and cheese. I started watching a

film on the 10" LCD panel on the back of the

headrest in front of me, there were plenty to

choose from. I was desperate to try and get some

rest but it was proving very difficult. By 3pm in

the afternoon British time it was pitch dark out-

side. Odd really as I've only seen what felt like a

few hours daylight today. The plane is noisy, alt-

hough I bought my own earphones the plane sup-

plied headphones, it drowns out the noise of

screaming kids and inconsiderate groups of teen-

agers who fail to see that others around them aren't

quite so energetic! I arrived in Kuala Lumpur

around 7.30 and had my next flight to catch at 9.30

so I made my way to the terminal by catching a

monorail into the opposite building. On route I

grabbed a Satay chicken wrap and a fizzy can of

drink. The wrap was fiery hot which I wasn't ex-

pecting.

Without hardly any fuss I was back on a plane and

heading for Hanoi. This plane being smaller, was

very cramped.

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F inally I arrived in Hanoi, got through

border control in minutes, collected my

luggage as I came down the stairs and

straight through the sliding doors out of

the arrivals lounge and into Vietnam. Ngọc was

there waiting for me as I exited the terminal and we

headed over to his 4x4.As we drove though town on

our way to his garage I was amazed drivers and rid-

ers didn't die every second. It was chaotic to say the

least. There seemed to be no traffic system or give

way priorities. It was a case of beep, look and

move. Everything just kept flowing like a pre re-

hearsed stunt. Somehow it just worked. We arrived

at the garage, talked about motorbikes and drank

green tea, which tastes oddly like grass water. From

here we head over to the shop and talked more

about motorbikes, had some more green tea and cof-

fee. Plus I got to see some really cool 4x4's. We

both stop off in the old quarter of Hanoi, where,

remnants of when the French occupied the city

many years ago remain. After being treated to my

first bowl of noodle soup made with a traditional

broth I'm finally taken to my hotel in Hanoi central

where I get chance to shower and have a stroll

around Hanoi city.

I can’t help becoming mesmerised by the way the

traffic seems to constantly flow, hardly ever stop-

ping even to let pedestrians across the street, zebra

crossings around here mean nothing, there is an art

to crossing the road, either close your eyes and hope

for the best or re-enact the 1980’s arcade game,

Frogger.

I grab some food from one of the local restaurants

as I am feeling uncomfortable eating from one of

the street food stalls, I am not sure my stomach will

cope with the lack of hygiene just yet. Walking

around the town I am constantly approached by

street sellers and opportunists. There are a lot of

scooter taxis as well constantly asking if you want

to be taken somewhere on the back of their bike,

they even supply a cycle helmet for your safety,

very considerate! I make it out of the hectic city and

back to my hotel. Its been a very long couple of

days and the travel is starting to take its toll on me

so I make it an early night, it's been 48hrs since I

last woke.

Hanoi:

The capital of Vietnam -

Hanoi, is known for its centuries-old architecture

and a rich culture with Southeast Asian, Chinese

and French influences. At its heart is the chaotic

Old Quarter, where the narrow streets are roughly

arranged by trade. There are many little temples,

including Bach Ma, honouring a legendary horse,

plus Dong Xuan market, selling household goods

and street food.

Area: 3,345 km²

Founded: 1010

Population: 7.5 million

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N gọc arrived at the hotel at 08.00 sharp

to collect me and take me to the shop to

pick up the bikes. I will be riding a

Honda XR250 and Ngọc will be riding

a 125 equivalent. I strap my rucksack onto the back of

the bike, usually they go in the 4x4 support vehicle.

We have a quick coffee and then head off through

town. It's manic, chaotic, crazy and fun at the same

time. I quickly realised you must use your horn to

warn people, it's considered polite. I also realised that

there is no real consistency as to traffic control or right

of way, it would appear, if you beep first the other per-

son should wait, but doesn't always work that way.

Young boys 2 up on 50cc plus scooters wheeling down

the dual carriageway for a good few hundred yards and

then weaving in and out of cars as if though it was a

normal day. Crazy. We head West out of the city to-

wards our destination for this evening. On route I

quickly realise how poor the country is, there seems to

be improvement by the government but it's still not

very noticeable, at least not on the roads as the condi-

tion of some stretches is appalling compared to Eu-

rope. The road will often suddenly change from rela-

tively smooth and safe tarmac to uneven gravel and

large pot holes or big troughs in the road, often the

road turns into a track all together, throwing the bike

up and down and making me fight for control to keep

upright yet alone in a straight line. At times it becomes

really tiring and mentally exhausting.

We soon need fuel and for about £0.30 per litre it

doesn't cost much to fill a small tank on the 250cc XR.

Every once in a while we'll take a gravel path or track,

drainage pipes often run across the path or track and

they can be heavily raised, if not careful they can easi-

ly catch you out as one did when Ngọc went over it, or

rather flew over it, his real wheel left the ground and

bounced approx. 2' in the air, he later found out he'd

damaged the screen on his laptop from the bump!!

DAY 2

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As the day went on we came upon the rice fields,

acres and acres of them with the whole family help-

ing to plant new crops now that the winter is almost

over. We arrive at our home stay accommodation,

it's in a small village run by the whole family. In

fact they occupy all 6 houses on the same stretch of

the village and own 100's of square meters of rice

fields. Their main income is rice. They can harvest

as much as 40 tonnes keeping 10 to themselves the

rest goes to market or is exported. The lady owner

and her husband were very friendly, the accommo-

dation is also very nice and accommodating and

clean. We were fed well with dishes consisting of

chicken, goat, rice and chips. I wasn't too keen on

the chickens head and feet though!!

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S owing new seedlings for the next rice crop. This is often

a family affair where they all have a certain task to fulfil

roll up their trousers and all get stuck in. Its hard work,

harder than it looks bending over all day standing in 6 to

8” of muddy water

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DAY 3

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W e head further West today, our

first part of the journey is 40km

long trail with deep ruts made

from the lorries. The mist was

heavy so it had made the clay soil very slippery, the

inevitable happened, the front end slipped and I

fell. I wasn't going anymore than 15km p/h but I

landed with a thud so much so I broke my helmet

cam. Undeterred, I hopped back on and carried on up

the slippery wet trail contributed by the fact they have

had their longest ever winter here in Vietnam since

they can remember. February isn't the best time to

come, October and November are good

months. Towards the end of October just before

they harvest the rice crops the scenery is magnificent.

Lashes bright green plantations all across the

hillsides.

o the road did get better by late morning as we head-

ed up into the mountain climbing to 1000m, however,

the weather didn't. A thick dense fog came down and

reduced visibility to a mere 10m if lucky. Trucks and

cars overtaking on mountain bends without ant

consideration to what might be coming the other way.

It seems as if they didn't even notice the fog, they

didn't even have lights on. We finally reach the top

and grab a much needed coffee. Cold, wet and now

muddy I was questioning myself as to why I am do-

ing this.

Warmed slightly from the luke warm coffee with

water served from a flask we head down the moun-

tain. Eventually the weather improves and the sun

even made a brief 10 minute appearance before

we finally arrived at the hotel, parked the bikes and

get cleaned up. Ngọc my guide cleans the bikes

whilst I go and shower. He looks after them like

they're his children but I guess you would if they

were your livelihood.

The hotel was comfy, clean and the food was terrific.

We ate a 300 year old recipe, fish that had been

cooked for hours, free range cow, rice and some

pumpkin leaf washed down with a beer. Yum.

Early night tonight. Been a long and exhausting day. I

return to my room and finish washing my clothes of

the mud. Hang them up to dry ready for morning. It

was that cold my kit didn't have enough heat to dry

out so I resorted to using the hairdryer. It worked, just

about. We tie our kit on the bikes and head North into

the mountains. The roads today were magnificent.

Long sweeping bends, ascents and descents with

magnificent views. I was in biker heaven! We stop a

couple of times in the day for coffee and a rest, each

time I can't help being mesmerised and intrigued by

the Vietnamese culture. How the H’mongs (cats) live

in the north and how the Thai people live so separate

lives. It's an interesting culture it really is and so

worth researching and reading about them.

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The women are skilled at crafts and embroidery, you see them sat in the street in the nearby city selling their crafts

such as rugs, bags, hats all made in bright colours. The rice fields in the Highlands are amazing. Each layer is one

generation.

The fog at the peak of the mountains was very thick and heavy. At times we were only able to see 5 meters ahead

of us, keeping your eyes peeled for overtaking vehicles coming straight at you was tiring

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The rice fields in the Highlands are amazing.

Each layer is one generation.

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A s we begin our decent into Sapa the temperature doesn't lift as I'd hoped. It's very cold, around

10°c and will get colder as the sun drops to about 6°c. The traffic is heavy, at a standstill, so we

filter through between the small gaps between the buses dodging taxis head on. Finally we find

our hotel. Again, clean, smart and friendly similar to a European 3* hotel. The view from the

room is lovely.

After a shower and change of clothes Ngọc and I head into town. It's Saturday and the last weekend of their new

year celebrations, so it's packed with Thai people enjoying the last of their holiday. We stop to eat in a Chinese

restaurant and then head further into town to sample the local food from the food market. It's a whole new expe-

rience and one I was apprehensive about to be honest. Nonetheless, we sit down, drink Apple Rice wine and

pick on pig guts, aubergine and pork meat cooked on a barbecue surrounded by hundreds of people socialising,

chatting, laughing and joking. its a really happy welcoming atmosphere, none threatening or intimidating in any

way.

I lie here in my bed between crisp clean white bed linen in a warm hotel room, my phone plugged in on charge

and I can't help thinking about the children I saw today, running around bare footed, bare minimal clothing

munching on sweetcorn sat in bushes beside the road or playing with fire. They looked happy, they smiled as we

rode past, most of them wave and shout "hello" to you, making you feel important making you feel acknowl-

edged but someone who has so very little. Something so insignificant to us could have made their day. But it

also made me feel great. They seem happy because they don't know any different. They don't have PlayStation,

phones, TV etc. They amuse themselves with what they have, their dog, running water, some old wood, and old

tyre or a wheel, it's so primitive to watch but so utterly simple, all they have to do is survive. They don't care

about cars, holidays or fashion. They exist only to live not to pay bills. I am beginning to genuinely think I need

to change my aspect on life. It's so peaceful here, if something happens, it happens, you can't change it or go

back in time, you break something, so what, why be upset and angry, what does that achieve?? Nothing at all.

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SAPA

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I t's Sunday, we leave the mountain resort in the north and head south, as we descend, the thick heavy

dense fog disperses leaving views across the lakes and surrounding mountain peaks all shadowing the

numerous rice plantations. The day starts off cold. At best I'd say the temperature was 10°c. We leave

the hotel and head straight into rush hour traffic and it is bloody manic. Cars, mopeds, taxis, lorries

and buses all fighting for the same space. One car even nudged me forward as he was so impatient and late

for work perhaps but no one seems to get angry, they just beep more.

Just as we're leaving a roundabout my clutch cable gives up. Shit! As I stand there with the bike, contemplat-

ing what to do and worrying if Ngọc will realise I'm not behind before he's miles up the road, I'm approached

by a H’mong woman and her daughter. The daughter who is at a guess about 16 years old dressed in their tra-

ditional attire, just stood next to me smiling and muttering something I had no idea what about. I didn't feel

intimidated, I just wanted to make sure Ngọc knew what had happened to me.

Earlier he had told me that many westerners come here and meet the H’mong women, they buy them nice

things, feed them and give them money, the H’mong woman then has sex with the westerner and the woman

gets pregnant. The westerner then returns home and the Hamong woman can't get a husband because she has

been spoilt. So she ends up alone with a child usually poor and begging. The H’mong people are not clean,

they rarely wash which is another reason why they are called "cats" aside the fact they live up high, they only

wash themselves a couple of times a month. They are often ugly and unappealing. At this point I'm wonder-

ing if the rush hour lunatics will actually run me over. At one point I have to lean the bike into the pavement

so a car doesn't crush it. Eventually I start pushing it up the hill. I'm on the high pavement with all the kit on

and then I see Ngọc coming towards me, I'd thought I'd lost him in the traffic but he realised I wasn't behind

and stopped just around the corner so Ngọc says "ride my bike and I ride this". I know riding without a clutch

on a bike can be done but during rush hour traffic in a place where everyone wants to run you over...

He jumps on and fires the bike up, lunging forward he's off, I follow and it's a battle to keep his bike in my

sight yet alone wonder how on earth he is managing to negotiate the traffic without a clutch. Despite a cou-

ple of near misses we pull up outside what I guess is a garage in a quieter side Street. He jumps off, says

some Vietnamese and then sets about removing a small package from his bike, as he does a lady sat on a min-

iature stool asks me to sit. So I do. Then she hands me some green tea and I sit there silent watching Ngọc fit

a new clutch cable. By the time I finished the green tea he's done.

Fixed the bike and we're ready to go. I thank the woman and

we leave. Just like that. As we get lower the temperature

shoots up to the low to mid 20's and I have to stop to re-

move a layer of clothing and also my waterproof trousers.

After a short time we make it to the Chinese border. I have

to walk on foot the last 100m as the road is closed for a fes-

tival. Ngọc stays with the bikes. I don't actually cross the

bridge, which is one of 3 main entrances from Vietnam. In-

stead I stand and take a photo, so I can't claim I have been

to China but nonetheless it's likely to be the closest I get to

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We stay mostly on the flat planes now, the road is winding with obstacles around every corner keeping you on

your toes, everything from dogs, hens, kids, lorries you name it, even plenty of Buffalo shit, It's like a gigantic

mole Hill in the road.We pass endless rows of wood stacked along the roadside. Leant against the embankment

and stacked like playing cards would be at the lower level of a card tower. It turns out to be eucalyptus tree. They

cut the tree and feed it through what can only be described as a planer. Shaving them into ply sheets. It's then

stacked separately to dry and finally collected by lorries and taken to factories where they make plywood for

cheap furniture.

Further on up the road there is what looks like construction works but it is heavy plant machinery excavating

marble for statues. They also excavate limestone. Some of the work they produce is spectacular, every piece

carved by hand.

We pass through numerous small towns like the one below. The architecture is intriguing, it has a French colonial

look about it. Vietnam was, many years ago occupied by the French and there is still evidence of it today, from

buildings to the language. In Hanoi, there are many French buildings, an area called the French Town is predomi-

nantly French influence even though they moved out the previous century.

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The people here are so friendly. Every-

where we've been we are greeted with a

smile and they offer you a seat. Then

they hand you a small tea cup with green

tea and they sit with you. Obviously I

don't know the language very well, at all,

so they tend to just sit and stare at me.

Having a beard (partly ginger) and blue

eyes must be a novelty, that and the fact

I'm probably twice as heavy as them at

16st they think I'm a boxer or a Buda.

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I also notice how friendly and happy

the kids are, as I wait for Ngọc to go

an check out our home stay for the

evening a young boy is sat on some

wood string at me through the vege-

tation. He sees that I've noticed him

and becomes shy, so I pull my cam-

era out and ask if I can take his pho-

to by pointing the camera at him. He

peers around the post, I take the shot

and then put my thumb up, he re-

turns the thumb gesture.

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W e finally end the day at our home stay. The place is beautiful, set in a small village and

owned by and older couple. The lady owner greets me by taking my hand and holding it

clasped between her hands. She is small and skinny, frail looking with teeth in a poor

state, black as if from tar. She wears black with colourful embroidery work. As she

walks back into their living quarters accessed by several steps she takes 2 at a time, like some young child

sprinting up the steps and amazes me. Clearly she is a spring chicken. They are very healthy people. Eat

healthy food, drink healthy drinks and are always busy doing something, anything.

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In the evening we sit and it with the elders children, two sons and a daughter. The son is 28, married with

2 children, the daughter is 20 and not yet married, she says she has no time for marriage and the third

child is an adopted son.

The children prepared the food for this evening as the elders had been invited to attend a festival. The el-

der is the villagers fortune teller, like a shaman. He is also a well respected man and an ambassador for

the village. Later that evening he shows me a very old book made of rice paper and written in Chinese, it

was the knowledge of his father and as such he learns from it, taking this knowledge to pass on to the

next generation.

The food was a feast, soya soup, fish soup, wild boar meat, pancake roll, fried cabbage, rice, potato and

rice cakes, homemade crisps were the main dishes. It was absolutely delicious.After we had eaten the el-

ders arrived home. The father and mother sat with us upstairs in the living area. The father asked me to

drink wine with him, so I obliged and we had several toasts of ginger rice wine. We also had a beer to-

gether. He was a very likeable man, always happy, laughing and smiling.

The mother, she would chew on cocoa leaves rolled in limestone paste, it gives them a bit of a high and

usually they start doing it in their 30:s. The downside is that it turns your teeth black as if you have a seri-

ous dental health issue.They are incredibly hospitable people, the father had returned from his fortune

telling with a cooked whole chicken in his satchel and requested his son chopped it up and serve it to us

despite the fact We'd just stuffed our faces.

They are so generous. I am told of a story whereby when they travel to the poorest locations, the guide

takes cake and drawing paper and pens to give to the children. Some of them as young as 2 or 3 are left at

home to play in the road whilst the mother and father go off to the fields to work, it becomes the older

brother or sisters job to look after them but the young children get hungry and they eat scraps from the

road amongst the rubbish.

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I am woken early by a Cockerel, again. I manage to get back to sleep but then woken by a dog barking

an hour later. I did try and use my earplugs but I bought the wrong ones and they're too uncomfortable

to sleep with. By 6.30am I am wide awake as it sounds like the whole household are too. Whilst they are

very quiet going about their business it was still a reminder that we need to get up and get going.

Breakfast was served. The elder ate with us and he was served meat, rice, chicken and soup, Ngọc had noodle

soup and I was offered pancakes and honey

which was delicious. A cup of coffee later and

we are preparing to leave. I had sadness inside

as the stay here was so warm and inviting and I

didn't want to leave so early. The older children

had already left to work on the farm. I sat finish-

ing my coffee watching the elder mother groom-

ing her hair from their private area. A reminder

of the simplistic way of life, as she squatted and

brushed the very long hair.

The children play and it is a joy to watch, they

don't have fancy electronics or hi tech games,

just each other and whatever is around them to amuse themselves and yet they seem very happy.

It's time to go. I am feeling sad.

I say goodbye to the children and the two elders. They are such wonderful people, they have looked after us

well and they will be missed.

As we set off down the bumpy, dusty track to join the main route once again, I am thinking deeply about how

simple life is here, I understand its a whole different culture out here but can't help thinking that I live in such a

hectic country with such disrespect for family, love, happiness and simplicity try and put it in the back of my

mind and concentrate on the riding.

Every stretch of road has some sort of hazard as I've said before and you have to keep your wits about you. We

pass more farmlands and I have dodge and weave around branches placed across the lane to stop people riding

or driving over their seeds, corn or beat lying in the road to dry. At the end of the day they come and pick it all

up and it's placed in sacks. Some they keep and some they sell at market, to the locals or on the side of the

road. The farmers always seem to be working hard. We continue along the riverbank and come to huge mounds

of sand and grit, scooped up by big barges on the river. It's used for all manner of building works. That's the

thing about this country, other than some vehicles, virtually everything is farmed, made or manufactured here.

They are incredibly self sufficient people. They do however export a lot of goods, vehicles and clothing. You

will probably have seen a lot of it on Ebay. I love the fact they still use primitive tools and machinery to

achieve everyday tasks. Some farmers still use water buffalo and ploughs, whereas the younger genera-

tion have been tempted by the use of motorised vehicles making life easier and quicker but the farming princi-

ples and traditional methods remain.

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their home in the corner. We continue south for the last leg of the journey into Hanoi. Suddenly we end up

on a motorway, the twist is that the moment is still being built and the surface beneath us is nothing more

than excavated rubble, gravel and dirt. It's uneven and incredibly bumpy, precarious in fact and I'm begin-

ning to wonder if this is a good idea.

We weave side to side in an effort to avoid the largest of the holes, some are as deep as 12" or more. When I

finally see ahead that the road appears to change to tarmac there is a giant mound of dirt blocking our exit. It

would be foolish to try negotiate it so we turn around and back up a few hundred yards before finally finding

a gap in the embankment with slope hopefully not steep enough for our bikes to get up. We make it and after

a bit of weaving we end up on hard surface. That doesn't mean to say it's much better, just not as precarious!!

Here the woman is feeding a young baby and serving customers

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My last farewell's to the homestay fami-

ly who provided me with such wonder-

ful hospitality, comfy bed, delicious

food, what more could you ask for

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W e finally arrive back in Hanoi. The exact same location from

where we started 4 days ago. It's almost overwhelming to arrive

back and to be greeted by a waiting party of Ngọc''s friends, Co

workers and family.

I take a huge breath of relief and feel like I have just accomplished an adventure, for

me it was an expedition, and a journey I know only a few people have been fortunate

to make.

It has for the time being, changed my outlook on life and made me realise how self-

ish we are as a nation. I never once on this trip encountered any hostility towards me.

Vietnam has a lot of history and many stories to tell. It has been through some awful

times during the war yet they still welcome westerners with open arms. Either be-

cause it is their income or because they are simply genuinely loving people, either

way they choose to embrace our willingness to visit and learn about them.

The new generations of Vietnamese have a different outlook, they want to use mod-

ern materials and techniques and I think the older generation have become to accept

it more easily. Vietnam had followed the same traditions and practices for many hun-

dreds of years and it is only really since the war that has made the country edge

forward into modernisation.

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It's my last full day in Vietnam. Having been woken by the sounds of beeping horns, engine revving and

shouting, I realise I preferred being woken by the sounds of Cockerels and dogs. The horns are a stark re-

minder you are in the city and not the countryside. After breakfast, consisting of hot dog sausages and rice

on the top floor of the Diamond Hotel. I head off to the North of town to visit Ho Chi Minh Mausoleum. As

I'm leaving the hotel, I bump into Ngọc in the reception. He kindly returned my SD memory card that I'd

lost at one of the home stays a couple of days ago. He called them a day earlier and asked if they'd seen it.

It's tiny, the size of a fingernail but they somehow found it under the table I sat at. They have better eyesight

than I have. He also gave me a set of canvas saddle bags in army green colour. I said to Ngọc I liked them a

lot and would really love a set so he kindly gave me some.

I decide to take the backstreets to the Mausoleum, I often find its where all the best bits are, locals living

their daily normal life away from the chaos of the tourist rat race. I end up walking into what I think is a

wedding, a barbers shop and some traditional Street food vendors. As I near the Ho Chi Minh Mausoleum I

am constantly asked by moped taxis if I want a ride. I get bored of saying "khong cam on" (No, thanks). I

pass the military museum, visible from the road side is an aircraft from the 70's during the war and some

other small military vehicles….

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I keep walking with the intention to visit on the way

back. It starts to rain, or rather spit. A light drizzle

but all of a sudden all the scooter riders (90% off all

traffic) start to put their waterproof sheets on. It's

more like a poncho that goes over them and the front

of the bike to keep them dry. Finally, after slipping

and sliding on the smooth polished marble pave-

ment, now that it's wet and I stupidly decided to wear

flip flops, I arrive at the Mausoleum. As I look for

the entrance I am told to carry on walking several

times by arm guards.

I walk past the building for the Ministry of Affairs, a

heavily guarded property painted in mustard yellow.

I keep walking with the intention to visit on the way

back. It starts to rain, or rather spit. A light drizzle

but all of a sudden all the scooter riders (90% off all

traffic) start to put their waterproof sheets on. It's

more like a poncho that goes over them and the front

of the bike to keep them dry. Finally, after slipping

and sliding on the smooth polished marble pave-

ment, now that it's wet and I stupidly decided to wear

flip flops, I arrive at the Mausoleum. As I look for

the entrance I am told to carry on walking several

times by arm guards. I walk past the building for the

Ministry of Affairs, a heavily guarded property

painted in mustard yellow.

I keep walking, and walking... Finally after 1.5

miles I find the entrance next to a coffee shop. The

temptation was too great, besides I'd walked for over

an hour and built up a thirst. Coffee drank I head for

the entrance, only to be told it's now closed!! It only

opens between 8.30-10.30 weekdays. Brilliant.

It seems if you want go sightseeing places of interest

in Hanoi you need to shit the bed! I head back to the

military museum, turned away, it's now closed! I

head back to the hotel and decide to get something to

eat on the way, taking a different back Road route

this time. I love spending time off the main routes,

the tourists don't venture this far off the main roads

so I get a chance to see the "real Vietnam" and not

the glitzy tourist tack.

I come across a Ducati pengalle cafe racer

And see a Harley Davidson of all places

I head back to the Hotel.

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I'm determined not to let the memories of this

journey drift away like almost every other trip or

adventure. Understandably I live in the western

world and the western world is a far cry from the

simplicity that exits here. The majority of Viet-

namese people have very little in comparison, yet

they are incredibly social, happy people with no

further outlook on life that the day they live. They

exist to feed themselves, look after their family

and have good friends around them. They family

orientated, unlike the Brits, they have big gather-

ings and spend much time as a unit, simply enjoy-

ing life and their beliefs. Buddhism is the main

religion here and they pray for prosperity, happi-

ness and health.

They have many traditions to which westerners

will snub at. I think it's because we simply don't

understand and have been educated in a different

way. They also have Catholics here, around 10%

are. As I stand at my hotel window looking down

at the busy Street below, I watch the locals shout-

ing, yelling, stopping to talk to one another, ex-

changing goods, buying vegetables and so on, the

atmosphere, although a little hectic in my eyes, is

a joy to watch, there is a definitive vibe, an easily

recognisable buzz of happiness and we'll being.

People happily greeting each other and smiling,

laughing.

This is nearly the end of my short journey. I came

to Vietnam to meet a new business partner, to

form a relationship thousands of miles apart span-

ning many continents and with such completely

different cultures. I was apprehensive, unsure if

what I would discover and if I would feel compe-

tent alien in this far away country that holds so

much history especially with the westerners. I was

anxious about the reception I would receive from

people, would they be inquisitive or hostile. I have

enjoyed every moment of being on my 2004 Hon-

da XR250 even if the seat was the size of a chop

stick. I do admittedly have a very sore backside,

actually, I think it's become deformed. The bike

did well, very well. The terrain we have travelled

across has at times been only fit for serious moto-

cross bikes, but each time the machine surprised

me. In fact I surprised myself that I didn't die at

times. Across hundreds of kilometres the only re-

pair to both bikes was a thin cable when the clutch

snapped but was fixed in lightening fast time by

my guide.

If you have read this and you feel inspired I

strongly suggest you book a tour to Vietnam.

Surely this story of my journey is enough to in-

spire. www.guidedmotorbiketours.co.uk provide

several options and cater not just for British people

but anyone in Europe who wants to join our ad-

venture are also welcome. It's such a humbling

experience, it isn't an adventure where reading

about such experiences of others is enough to truly

make you understand how powerful the memories

are that you are left with. I want to return to the

UK with this feeling and inspiration to change cer-

tain aspects of my life. How long it will last before

I am thrust back into my own reality of Western

living will soon be determined. Leaving the hotel

in the car provided for me by them I begin to feel

sad. I feel I have only just smudged the surface of

this country and can't wait to return to explore

more. I am also happy to be returning to my

family, I have missed them. One thing is certain

for sure, this is just the begin to discovering the

world on two wheels, I realise how simple it is in

today's

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Last words

I sit in the airport watching the world go by, people scurrying from one flight to the next, Asians and Indians,

Muslims and Australians, even French and German all milling around like ants. An English couple catch my

attention, they seem tense and nervous, almost stressed. They become obnoxious towards the woman who is

serving them tea., telling her off in their stammered English because they misunderstood her. It's often funny to

listen to foreigners who don't speak the same language, they begin speaking the same as the foreigner with poor

broken English as If it's going to help.

The two guys belonging to a group of 4 are now literally sweating at the brow, becoming more agitated by the

woman who doesn't understand their English. Perhaps if they spoke normally she may have understood but their

patronising accent seems to have done the job on confusing everyone.

For some reason When British travel they make themselves stand out so much. Just be natural, wear natural

clothes and do research. Above all, respect them as they would you, the Vietnamese are friendly people, if at

times understandably nervous but overall I had an overwhelming welcome from everyone I met.

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Thank you for reading

If this inspired you why not join us on one of our adventures

Get in touch

Www.guidedmotorbiketours.co.uk

hello@guidedmotorbiketours.co.uk

+44 (0)330 111 0112

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