Long Way Round

Day 51: Hanoi (VN) – Pom Coong (VN). Drawing closer to the truck, I became smothered in clouds of dust and diesel as it struggled to make head way against the steep incline. The road bent to the left giving a perfect view of what lay ahead. I stabbed the gear lever with my left foot, the bike responding immediately, propelling me past the first truck and then a second. In front of me Karen disappeared from view as the mountain pass snaked sharply to the right. I gave a little push on the inside bar and the bike instantly banked to the right, narrowing the radius of the turn. As the sun emerged from the other side of the mountain, the apex of the bend came clearly into view, allowing me to give it a little more gas - instantly, the bike stood up and I had Karen in my sights once again. We were riding motor cycles through the mountainous jungle region of North Vietnam and we were having an absolute hoot (you all knew we would didn't you?)

Having left Hanoi shortly after rush hour, Khanh our Vietnamese guide for the next three days, quickly got us on the the quiet back roads to the North of the capital city. Riding through sleepy villages, rice paddies and untouched rain forest, the bikes provided the best possible perspective to view this stunning landscape. Far from the beaten track we seemed to be the star attraction in every village we entered: Children waving hysterically, adults smiling their friendly hellos and other bikers nodding appreciatively.

With all this attention, it was easy for Karen and I to become complacent, but these roads needed absolute concentration. In addition to the usual biking dangers , poor road surfaces and roaming livestock at every turn gave these road an extra challenge. Indeed, such were the conditions, that after 6 hours solid riding we had covered just a little over 100 miles, a distance that would have taken about an hour on our bikes back in the UK (Sorry, officer I meant 2 hours!)

Eventually though, after perhaps the most memorable day of our trip so far, we arrived at the little village of Pom Coong, where our guide had arranged for Karen and I to be the guests of the Chung family, simple farmers belonging to the Muong hill tribe. Their traditional wooden stilt house overlooking the rice fields provided the perfect place for us to catch our breath, try some delicious home cooked Vietnamese food and drink a glass or two of rice wine whist we listened to the hypnotic sound of the jungle as day gradually gave way to night.