Stalker Cyclos

The disparity between our tans is lessening. Gregg's reached a fair level of brownness and is no longer glowing white. His arms and stomach are a lot darker than mine. I've never been a good tanner though. Gregg claims I'm getting whiter as the trip goes on.

A couple of interesting things I omitted from previous posts: While returning from our 14 KM trek on Cat Ba Island, a young boy and girl met us on the road with a large machete. As I passed them, the boy hit my water bottle with the large blade that was the length of his arm. All he wanted was water, and I wasn't about to refuse a small boy with a big knife.

Also, we saw some interesting things when we were cruising on our motorbike in Ninh Binh. We noticed a lot of paper blowing on the street in the midst of the traffic. It was fake US dollar bills and we realized they were coming from a van at the front of a procession. I think it may have been a funeral. On another road, we had to drive over a bunch of harvested barley laid out to dry on the road. People were raking it to speed up the process and didn't seem to mind us driving through. We also saw sidewalks and other available pieces of concrete used in similar fashion.

When we climbed onto the tourist bus bound for Hue, we discovered that it wasn't much of a tourist bus with the seats mainly occupied by Vietnamese. We woke up a couple of foreign guys and made them share their seats. Gregg's new buddy was a guy from Montreal with a broken arm while I was stuck with a tall German with limited English who intends to study human rights in Bangkok. The seats had no leg room even for my rather short legs. I tried to sleep with them slid under the seat in front of me, but the occupant of that seat would periodically stretch and push his seat further back, whacking my knee with molded plastic. Gregg had even less room than I did. We managed to sleep by twisting our bodies and slinging our legs into the aisle. It was a long thirteen hour bus trip. We did stop to go to the bathroom. Gregg made use of a garden while the girls were relegated to concrete stalls with drains on the floor and no doors.

When we woke up in Hue and unloaded the backpacks from the bus, mine was sopping wet with water running out of the side pockets and contributed to my poor mental state after the lengthy bus ride. Gregg kept his cool once again. After being swarmed by guys advertising their hotels, we were put in cyclos and taken to a brand new hotel. The promised room was not available, but we managed to get a room with AC, fridge, TV, hot water for only 7 USD. The hotel had only been open for two and a half months. It was pretty nice.

In the heart of old Hue, there is a crumbling old citadel that used to be home to the king. Inside a moat, there is a massive brick wall with an enormous flagstaff where the yellow starred red flag of Vietnam flies. Inside the brick wall is another moat and another wall. This was the imperial part of the citadel. And further inside was the Forbidden Purple city where only the royalty were allowed. Much of it was destroyed in the American war, but a few buildings still exist. Stairs and ruins remain of what used to be a spectactular sight.

Hue is a lot more laid back than Hanoi, but still the motorbike drivers are persistent. Even more persistent are the cyclo drivers who would pedal behind us in a stalkerish fashion. When Gregg wasn't with me, they'd even touch me to try get my attention, convinced that I always needed a ride. At the market, we tried to look at some shoes. I barely picked up a pair and a woman was making me try them on while another was poking my side and saying "Madame, Madame" and thrusting another pair in my face. The aisle was small and other shoppers were running into me. We left quite quickly.

May 19 is Ho Chi Minh's birthday. He would have been 115 this year and to celebrate this day, we got up insanely early for a tour of the DMZ - the demilitarized zone that once separated North and South Vietnam. Neither Gregg nor I are scholars on the war or Vietnamese history, but we're learning a little. The Geneva Agreements of 1954 divided the country in half at about the 17th parallel. For five kilometers on either side of a river, it was considered the DMZ. If part of a family was on the other side of the river when the division took effect, they did not see the rest of their family for twenty years. We stopped at this river and took some pictures. We drove for hours on a bus to a few sites important to the war. There was "Rockpile" - a mountain that the US used as a lookout and to shoot long range artillery. There was no way up there - everything was airlifted. We also saw villages belonging to the "ethnic minority". This people group lives in stilt houses and historically had no family name. Because they respected Ho Chi Minh so much, they all took on the surname "Ho". We stopped at a bridge along one of the five branches of the Ho Chi Minh trail which the North Vietnamese used to transport goods to their forces fighting in the south. The bridge was funded by the Cubans. We visited Khe Sanh base along highway nine that connects Vietnam, Laos and Thailand. The Americans had several bases along this route. On display were some helicopters and pieces of smashed up plane. Inside the museum were homemade weapons that the tribal people made to fight the Americans and pictures of female militia sharpening their weapons. Most disturbing were the pictures of the American soldiers as they tried to flee the base as the North Vietnamese "liberated" it. It seemed like it was intense battle and we intend to read up more on it. I can't imagine the hell that the soldiers on both sides went through.

The day was mainly spent driving. The roads are agonizingly slow. The speed limit on the nicest roads in the country is a mere 35 - 50 kilometers . The bus drivers have a system of signals that they wave to each other in meeting to tell if cops are on patrol or not. We had a learner driver who periodically stalled the bus and often would lurch to a stop. He took no risks as far as speed went so we watched buses and buses pass us as we lost feeling from sitting so long.

The absolute highlight of the day was visiting the Vinh Moc tunnels beside the South China Sea. An entire village of about 300 people lived underground from 1961 - 1964. It took 18 000 days of labor to chisel out the 6000 metric tonnes of rock to form the three layers of tunnels. To hide the digging, they would bury the rock under the beach. Gregg thinks the layers of tunnels were 15m, 23m, and 35m deep. Entire families lived in carved out rooms the size of closets and at least 17 children were born underground during that time. The tunnels averaged about 5 feet in height and about 3 feet wide. The entrance to the bomb shelter was a slide in order to save time. The tunnels were strategic for shipping stuff further south. Goods were smuggled out to an island 28 km away and then taken south. When outside the tunnels, the people walked in trenches to avoid being seen.

Banners were hung all over Hue to celebrate Ho Chi's birthday. The bridge was lit up with alternating colors. It was like slo-mo fire works. We ate at a family run restaurant where there was a party going on in the back. Men were singing and drinking to celebrate the occasion. We sat long after we finished eating just to enjoy the party.

Today we made yet another bus journey. Our trip is winding down and we know we don't have too many bus journeys left. Between Hue and Danang, there is a range of mountains along the sea. Our bus wound its way up steep switch backs, quickly gaining impressive elevation. At the top of the pass, we got out to admire the view. The ocean was far below us with sandy beaches stretching for miles and fading into the mist of the horizon. From both sides of the pass, we could see the coast. On a clear day, you could see a long ways.

We drove through Danang. We'll return there on Tuesday to catch a flight to Bangkok. The city itself doesn't have much to offer, but it was interesting to see city built on sand. Sand was everywhere and it looked like the houses were simply built on it.

South of Danang, we stopped at the Marble Mountains. The mountains themselves aren't overly impressive, but inside they are amazing. We wandered through a large cave with a cathedral roof. A hole in the roof let brilliant beams of light in. It looked like what I imagine Jesus' baptism did when God spoke from heaven. The impression was marred by the idol decorated with Christmas lights. We climbed up a series of steep ladders to what we thought would be a lookout over the ocean, but found only another mountain and the roofs of shantytown instead.

In the afternoon, we arrived in Hoi An, famed for its old city and overabundance of tailor shops. We decided to forego quality in favor of economy and have been fitted for some clothing. I hope it turns out. We'll have a fitting after we spend the day at the beach. Hopefully we can sleep in.