Helen and the Art of Motorcycle Balance

It is Friday here in Vietnam so I know that this post will go largely unnoticed. Posting on the weekend is like shouting into a long empty corridor knowing that no one will hear you but wanting to shout anyway. And I am happy with the attention of even one person so here I go.

I believe that I posted this morning to say that I was going on a motorbike trek today. And sure enough I did. Here in Dalat there is a loose knit group of bikers who act as tour guides under the name Easy Riders. Just as the guide book predicted, I met one as soon as I left the hotel last night and, again as the guide said, he got out his notebook full of recommendations from previous satisfied customers. Sounded good to me though at twenty dollars it was not the cheapest tour on offer. I signed up and arranged to meet him at 8.15 this morning.

Since I am staying at quite possibly the noisiest place in the entire world it was easy enough to be up at that time. In fact, I had been up long enough to have a shower, breakfast and post on here and still get there early. Binh was standing next to his battered old 125 and greeted me warmly, checked I had my camera and suntan lotion (one I am never without the other, well you know that story) and off we went.

I have to admit to being a little nervous at first. Some of you know that I am a big girl's blouse when it comes to stuff like fairground rides and rollercoasters- even the carousal can be a little too much for me if the horses go up and down as well as round and round. So imagine me clinging for dear life to this machine as it speeds through the mountains. I did shut my eyes a couple of times.

Now we have done so much today that I am hard pressed to remember in what order we went. Hum, I think that we went into the country first so that I could see where the forests used to be before being napalmed out of existence during the war. Now some of you already know that the war we in the west call the Vietnam War is known here as the American War. If I get a little confused when writing about it you will understand why then. Binh himself is North Vietnamese and talks fondly of the three years he spent in East Germany as part of his military service. He studied Architecture at University only to discover later that he would end up living in an area where the houses are built of bamboo.

Ah no, I remember what we did first. We went to the Crazy House- a guesthouse which is a little crazy, as the name suggests. It reminded me of Mu Bar in Seoul, a maze of staircases and huge metal spiderwebs. Each room has a theme such as the Kangaroo Room, the Bear Room, the Tiger Room and the Gourd Room. Several of the rooms have mirrored ceilings and walls. If I hadn't already chosen to stay in the noisiest hotel in the world I would have stayed there. Binh tells me that it is noisy because of all the tourists looking around during the day but at least there didn't seem to be any clog wearing hippos there that I could see. It was very cool and photos will be posted. The designer lives there and her father was once the President here. She studied Architecture in Moscow though the Crazy House looks anything but Soviet austere.

Then we went into the country, bear with me, it has been a long day. Then onto a silk worm farm where a group of small children showed me the silk worms lying on woven mats and gorging themselves on mulberry leaves. Apparantely each worm produces a kilometre of silk in a month and then is eaten- hum, silk worm larva, wonder if I know any other places that might like that.... They also grow mocha coffee there. Binh tells me that 70% of coffee production in Vietnam is shipped to Brazil. So that Brazilian mocha that you are drinking maybe more Asian than you think.

Next we went to a farmer's house in the hills. He produces rice wine. I was shown how it is made and then given some to drink. SOJU! And way too early in the morning even for me to start to tipple. The farmer had three daughters and the youngest held my hand the whole time and we spent some moments tickling each other. I saw a huge pig with her very small piglets. Binh, me and the family sat down for a cup of tea before heading off to the next place.

We went to a larger silk farm. This time I saw the worms covered in the silk (and got given one of their little cocoons- a kilometre of silk tightly woven as nature intended), then a handful of them being placed in hot water and the silk taken off them by machines. Then the now homeless worms lying on the floor before being taken to market to become bundaegi- or whatever they call it here. I saw the silk being woven on huge looms into elaborate patterns and the products were sold at the front of the shop.

But we had no time to stop and got back on the bike again and off to a mushroom farm. Which is basically a large thatched roof with polythene bags hanging in it. Through the holes in the bags grow the mushrooms. Cool.

Then we went onto some waterfalls known as the Elephant Falls though the elephants are long since gone. It was hot there and I was quite worn out by walking up and down the hill. I sat in front of the waterfall and watched the spray glide across the rocks and then went behind it to get soaked by it. It was refreshing after the climb. There were several other backpackers there and they all seemed to be on longer trips than me- either to Mui Ne, Nha Trang or Hoi An. Interesting thought.

Next. We went to an Ethnic minority village. I watched some girls weave some silk scarves anc couldn't resist buying one. Since Binh found out that I was an English teacher he has been getting me to assess everyone's English. In the village, known as the Chicken Village, he took me to see the schoolroom, a battered building next to the Red Cross clinic. He told me that most of the kids in the village only go to school for a year or two before just quitting. Having seen the school, I am surprised that they last that long. It was dismal but I guess better than nothing.

By this time it was raining. Well, it is rainy season. Binh had bought a couple of cheap one-use raincoats so we put them on. It was like climbing into a whole body condom, with short sleeves. Needless to say, we got soaked. So we just made a couple more stops, one for hot chocolate and the other to see the Dragon Pagoda- so called because of the massive Dragon in the garden.

I took my shoes off to go into the Pagoda and walked barefoot up the wet steps to the tower. Several people followed my cautious figure and seemed to be staring at my feet and pointing them out to each other. They all had socks on and certainly weren't as dirty as me. I hoped that I wasn't causing any disrespect and tried to wipe the worst of the mud off when they weren't looking. The pagoda was awesomely decorated with bits of broken pottery and dragons everywhere. It was still raining hard so after the pagoda we decided to head back to Dalat as both of us could do with getting warm and dry.

Somewhere along the way I must have got bitten by the Easy Rider bug- not that I am implying that they have bugs- as I have signed up for another three days of it! Yikes! It is certainly not the cheapest way to see the country. One hundred and twenty dollars for three days to get to Nha Trang versus the bus at five bucks and a day. But even after just a few days on the bus I have wanted to get out and see some of the villages that we pass through. Stop and take some photos. There are only so many photos you can take through the bus window. Plus I think that I will learn more in these three days than I would in five weeks and hundreds of guidebooks on the bus.

Bugger it. I am not going to justify it to myself anymore. I am off on the back of a motorbike for three whole days through gorgeous mountainous countryside and down the beach. I think that I am staying in Dak Lak (which sounds like my friend, Renee, trying to order extra duk in the dak galbi restaurant) tomorrow night and then onto a National Park the next night where, I am told, that I will be able to sleep in a traditional longhouse with the cows, pigs and chickens. Do holidays get any better than that?

I guess that the longhouse may not have internet connection so if you don't hear from me for a couple of days don't worry that I have fallen off the back of the bike. I am probably just playing with the silk worms somewhere.

(Ner- dongdongju is a whole bunch of alcoholic nastiness in a bowl, similar to mukkale, it is served in a bowl and then ladled out into smaller bowls for the intrepid drinkers. I am not a fan, in case you can't tell)