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A Stunning Spot To Reflect - At My Hotel |
There's simply so much to talk about that I scarcely know where to begin! This evening I write to you while overlooking a vista that makes the hair on the back of my neck stand on end. It's like out of a postcard, or a dream. The temperature is absolutely perfect. A few whispy clouds caress the jagged 3000 meter mountains on the distant side of a cavernous valley. Much of the arable hillsides are terraced into swooping lanes of useable farmland. The evening light reflects from the standing water in the rice terraces, creating curved silver ribbons that stand out in stark contrast to to the darker, forested background. In the foreground, sloping away into the valley are a dozen row houses, each adorned with a well aged terra cotta stone roof. Interspersed among the homes are an unknown species of pine tree, banana, Norfolk Island pine, and a variety of other fruit trees under cultivation by the locals. Domesticated chickens and dogs roam about, tended by children. The scale of the space is enormous, and Sapa, Viernam is perched gently on a ridge overlooking it all.
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Accommodations on the Orient Express |
Last night I had the pleasure of riding my first sleeper train. The "Orient Express" is a route
that takes passengers from the capitol city of Hanoi, to the charming mountain village of Sapa. I'd like to send a big thanks to the folks at Flamingo Travel in Hanoi, who ran circles to get me the motorcycle I wanted. They went further, managing to score a booking on the sleeper train during this busy holiday weekend. They even had the bike shipped along with me on the next train! The Orient leaves Hanoi at 9pm, and arrives at 5:30 am the next day, over 300km away. I ran 'map my ride,' and you can see the train route below. What a mellow, soothing experience! The train cars in service look to have been around since the 1950's or earlier, but someone has been looking after them closely. The dark cherrywood details remain polished to a shine, while the exterior retains a fun, antique maroon and green paint job. I wasted no time letting the train car gently rock me to sleep.
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The Batmobile - Fresh Off the Train |
I awoke to an abrupt but polite wrap on the door, and all the passengers were up and out into the fresh mountain atmosphere. The cool, dry air was a welcome relief to the sauna that had been Hanoi. After some asking around about my motorcycle, I was politely informed that I would arrive on the next train, in only 30 minutes. Waiting around in a train station as a foreigner can be difficult, as nearly everyone has something to sell you. Every guy passing buy offers either a taxi or scooter ride, and every woman has some variety of tasty treat ready for you - and they are all quite aggressive! I took to pointing at the helmet clipped to my backpack, indicating "I have a ride, thank you!" All this happens before 6am - folks get up early here.
Right on time the "SP3" rolled into the station, and my big beast of a motorcycle was
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The Local Bikes Delight in Jumping On the Big Bike |
promptly unloaded. Locals began gawking at the bike started just as soon as the train door rolled open, and have not stopped since. It's hysterical - young men almost anywhere I ride the bike will stop in their tracks, mouth agape, and stare at this 'enormous' bike as I ride past. I get the feeling they RARELY see motorcycles like this. The Baja 250 is quite a small by US standards, but is rare here. Pushing the bike down the crowded train platform, I made my way through ticketing, and out onto the street. As I strapped my bags to the bike with strips of old inner tube, I noticed a crowd start to gather around me. First it was a nice vendor lady offering me coffee (bless her), then all the other vendors, then a big group of boys who all pointed and giggled excitedly while admiring the bike. Suddenly one of the young men looked at me, laughed, then grabbed the handle bars and twisted the throttle "VROOM Vrooom!" he growled enthusiastically, as his friends laughed and cheered him on. I smiled and encouraged him, feeling quite proud of my big beater Honda. He pointed at the seat to ask if he could hop on. "Of course" I indicated with a gesture. As soon as he hit the seat his buddy was on right behind him, jokingly flipping the bird to the camera as their friends barraged them with a stream of IPhone pictures. We all found it particularly amusing that once seated, their legs were fully a foot off the ground. I hoped on the bike, and rode off with a wave. I was worried that the police blocking the entrance to the parking lot would demand a bribe, but they simply smiled and waved me through. Friendly folks, and a great start to the ride!
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Boarder With Mainland China |
Finding myself a mere half-mile from the Chinese boarder, I couldn't help but zip over and at least take a picture of the sign. I wasn't much to look at, but it was cool to see mainland China in person. I stopped at a small boarder street vendor and ate a "smile, nod and point" breakfast of Pho noodles with a group of a half-dozen women and their children. They were very sweet to me!
Full of food, and caffeine pulsing through my veins, I hopped on the moto and strutted down the one main road in Lao Cai. Head held high, I felt thrilled to start my journey - nothing could stand in my way!
"Putttt putt putt, put put …..puuuuu….."
The bike stalled unenthusiastically at a stop light. "Uh Oh" I thought. I was barely a kilometer from the train station. After cranking the motor a few times I managed to coerce some life out of the engine, but it only stuttered across the intersection and died again. "CRAP!" I thought, wanting to kill the mechanic who rented me the bike. I felt myself start to sweat profusely with frustration, and
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Basic Troubleshooting |
the intense morning sunlight didn't help. I tried to calm myself by sitting up straight on the bike and taking 5 deep breaths……. inhale……. exhale……. inhale……. exhale………I felt the rage start to subside. Casually, I pushed the bike to the other side of the street, heading towards a shop i'd seen a while back. Almost immediately shouts of help started to come from almost every storefront I passed - all in Vietnamese, but you could tell it was genuine help. "Hello!" one woman piped, as she pointed to three one liter bottles of fuel tied to the top of a bamboo stick in front of her cafe. "Hihi!" She followed up. Pushing my bike onto the sidewalk, she quickly dumped two liters into the tank. I cranked the bike until the battery died and gave up. She shrugged and pointed me down the street. "Thanks" I cooed quietly in English, feeling a sinking sensation in my stomach.
I didn't make it more than half way down the block before four guys casually sitting in a shop yelled "HEY HEY HEY!," pointing at their sidewalk. I was hoping for something a little more official, but oh well. Trust in the goodness of people, right? Almost immediately all four of them began
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Advanced Troubleshooting |
pouring over every part of the bike. One guy pulled all the fuel lines, while another yanked the ignition system, fuses and electrical. A third produced a volt meter and started testing the spark plugs. The main mechanic who owned the shop was called "Dong," and this guy is GOOD! You can tell he's been wrenching on bikes for a long time. His fingers quickly dismantle, clean, and inspect almost every component on the bike in less than a half hour. I laugh as he pulls the fuses, and he shows me their condition: they have all blown in the past, but somebody simply wrapped copper wire around the terminals and kept driving! He chuckled while spraying the fuses with cleaner and casually stuffed them back into the box, clearly not as concerned as I was. Next he performed the most low-tech compression test i've ever seen; he simply pulled the spark plug, squirted some oil in the piston chamber, and stuffed the hole shut with a dirty tshirt! It was surprisingly effective! As his friend kicked the starter, Dong put his ear up next to the cylinder to check for leaks. I was VERY concerned when a big glop of the motor oil he put in the piston came squirting right out the side of the cylinder head. That's usually a BIG problem - like new-motor big problem. Again, he seemed undaunted. Off came the gas tank, seats, plastics. Within an hour the bike was down to the frame. I settled in for the long haul as they tore into everything. Suddenly my phone rang, and when I picked up a quiet-sounding Vietnamese woman began to speak to be in broken English.
" *……unintelligible……..* We like to do the right thing for the foreigners. He will do good job on motorbike. *……..unintelligible……..*
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Dong And His Buddy SAVED Me! |
It took me until about 3 minutes into the conversation to realize that Dong (who speaks no
English) had called his wife, and instructed her to call my cell phone and reassure me that he was an excellent mechanic. When I figured out what was happening I laughed out loud, and thanked her enthusiastically for the emotional support.
Surprisingly after a half hour or they called me over, put me on the bike and pushed me down the block and up to the top of a long, steep driveway. From the look of it they wanted me to roll start the bike, and so we did! I rolled 30 feet, dropped the clutch and cranked the throttle and amazingly the bike roared to life! These guys are miracle workers! I rode the stripped bike around the block a few times to charge the battery, and zipped back to the shop.
"VIETNAM!" Screams Dong with his greasy hands in the air. He's grinning ear-to-ear, clearly very pleased to have been able to help.
"VIETNAM!" I scream back, mimicking his body language. The small crowd of men at the shop laugh and follow suit with their hands in the air.
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Dong Insisting on a Gentleman's Handshake |
I was astonished when I asked how much he would like to be paid, and he would accept no money! I couldn't believe it, he had just saved my bacon, and he wouldn't let me pay him! Through a series of gestures and simple Vietnamese he let me know that all he wanted was for me to take the name of his shop, and his website back to Flamingo Travel and endorse his shop heavily. "YES YES!" I say pointing to the URL he provided. I dropped the requested 150,000 Dong (about $7 USD) to his assistant, and both seemed quite pleased. We shot some photos, and Dong insisted on a picture of us sternly shaking hands. (See below). Just before hoping on the bike, I tried to stuff 200,000 in his shirt pocket, but he squealed as he laughed as ran away. THANK YOU GUYS! You saved me! I'll never forget it.
My confidence in the Baja was now thoroughly shaken, but my trust in the goodness of people has never been higher! I spent the better part of the next hour circling the town, testing the motorbikes road-worthiness. After about 15 kilometers with no problems, I headed off on the windy road to Sapa. This stunning 40km ride rips up a steep, wide ravine, deep into the mountains. Absurdly huge trucks lumber and struggle up the steep mountain roads, often barely managing a walking pace. Vehicles coming down are just the opposite - steaming around
corners at a breakneck pace, feeling free to take 3/4 of the entire road and coming directly into oncoming traffic. Steady concentration is required, but the majestic vistas to be seen in every direction make this an exhilarating piece of pavement. Around 1pm, a number of children appeared on the steep, mountain road. Walking home in groups of 4-6, they all turn, wave and yell "ALO ALO!" as I ride past. They are SOOO cute, and SOOO sweet! I can't believe it.
When arriving in Sapa I was surprised by the apparent level of affluence and architectural beauty of the town in comparison to agrarian landscape that surrounds it. The town is crouched around a medium sized mountain lake, with many colorful hotels and restaurants gently peering towards the center. I stopped had a
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The View From My $10 Hotel |
bit of lunch, and watched through the restaurant window as the local boys crawled all over motorcycle on the sidewalk. One of them caught my eye through the glass and gave me a thumbs up - I returned the gesture, smiling. Delighted with my new wheels, I set off exploring the side streets of Sapa, admiring the exuberant colors that adorn everything. It wasn't long before a couple of young men buzzed up next to be on their scooter. "Hotel?" he yelled. Having not intended on staying in Sapa, but curious about accommodations, I nodded and followed them up a series of steep, curvy streets to where you find me now. They say a picture is worth a thousand words, so please see below. This is simply one of the most majestic places i've ever been. I feel genuinely blessed to be alive, healthy, and in the beautiful welcoming hands of Vietnam. :-)
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Playing Around In the Hills Surrounding SAPA |
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Playing Around In the Hills Surrounding SAPA |
Doug Lybeck