5/6/25
Jonathan was keen to do some light bike maintenance in the morning. He could still feel a grinding through his pedals. However, there was a thick cloud of mosquitoes everywhere. A quick clean the drivetrain had to suffice. It didn’t help. We went a few kilometres before we stopped for coffee. Frankie’s brakes needed tightening as well.
We were next to the Red river and the railway. The latter was a single track line that went to Lao Cai. We think the train went once a day, maybe twice. It was our backup plan. Groups of women were harvesting the rice. Plucking the plants, then carrying them back on a shoulder pole for processing. Manual labour was alive and well here.
The road was intermittently quiet. We found ourselves shaded by trees at some points. It was ‘only’ 30C. It was a blessing. Heavily sweating now only occurred when we stopped. We filled up with some water and ice. Frankie thought she heard 4k but it was actually only 14k. After crossing a busy intersection we were back on another quieter road. The trucks crossed the bridge to the busy highway on the other side of the river, or most of them did. Sadly some still chose to use our side.
We tried to go to a vegan restaurant, but it was shut. It was a frustrating outcome to our detour. We tried another one that didn’t exist. At least it didn’t exist, on our actual route. We decided to stop at the next possible food source which turned out to be next to the railway tracks.
When the train was due two women came out to shut the barriers. It was more efficient, in terms of timings, than in Italy. We stood by watching, eating some banana chips, roasted crispy rice and a big bag of lychees. Only 15k a kilo for the latter, as opposed to the price in Hanoi of 60k.
We were entering the valley which would lead us all the way up the river to the border. The hills surrounded us again. If we were more adventurous and had time on our side we should probably have been in those hills. Beautiful as they were, we were taking the express route. Hopefully with minimal elevation. We finally entered a more peaceful place. We could see why it was called the Red River. It was coloured by the silt that made it incredibly fertile. basin at Hà Nội was the 5th most fertile on world. There was ask some kind of lumber industry here. Very thin pieces of wood were drying.
As we were climbing a hill, we could see the beautiful hills extending into the distance. Hundreds of metres tall. As we were having to put more effort in, Jonathan vocalised how pleased he was that his bicycle was now performing without creaking. Frankie retorted “I wish it wasn’t!”
After a few difficult hills we tried to stop for water. We say tried, as when we stopped outside the shop a man started harassing us. He seemed to be demanding that we go to his house. He was excessively forceful and physically grabbed our arms. We said okay, thank you. Then just rode off as he shouted after us in the street.
The next shop turned out to be a much more pleasant experience. Several women gathered around we chatted to them about where we were headed. They liked to know if we’re married and had children. We discovered that China has a very different name in Vietnamese, ‘Trung Quốc’. One of the women was very insistent. Frankie’s legs were burnt, not tanned. They cannot understand why anyone would wear shorts and allow themselves not to be white.
We decided not to push too much further. The Sun was coming out and it was getting too hot. We went 5km to the next Nha Nghi. After we’d checked in and started to shower there was a loud knock at the door. The local police had told our hosts that they wanted to copy our passports. Unwilling to part with them Jonathan rode pillion to the police station with the passports. It was an extremely long winded and bureaucratic process. The policeman tapped in the details into a crudely formatted document.
It took a while to get a taxi back to the town we’d passed through earlier. We’d seen some Xanh SM cars but they were reluctant to accept our journey now. The hotel owners couldn’t get one either. In the end we finally managed to get an electric app taxi.
We wandered along the market street. Locals clearly bemused by our presence. We did a lap before we bought chips, tofu and salad. Also some fruit. Bananas, dragonfruit and pineapple. The taxi driver on our way back had his son, unbelted, in the front seat.
Surly They Won't Make It 