Good Morning Vietnam

This was a bucket list ride for me, and one I’d really like to do without he racing and mist.

Here’s what it was like for me.

Follow, follow, follow, follow, follow The Ho Chi Minh Trail – damn; as if it wasn’t bad enough I just could not get that irritating yet amusing Robin Williams line form Good morning Vietnam out of my head.

It was somewhere approaching mid-day and I was wrestling with my granny gear on the lower slopes of the Hai Van Pass. This was a place I’d read of for a decade or so, and had longed to ride; although I have to say this came with a whole lot of guidebook trepidation attached.

Reports of wild weather and death defying tour busses had me constantly glancing over my shoulder, yet I even didn’t come close to a skirmish or a dusting here, or for that matter during my whole time in Vietnam.

Organised chaos, maybe that’s one way to describe the traffic, or more over the urban and suburban roads. Yes, absolutely every single YouTube video of hornets nest like motorbikes hurling themselves headlong towards each other is true, and often terrifyingly so. But, not once did I see an accident, which is truly amazing.

Earlier that same morning I’d pedalled through Danang at rush hour. Danang is the seaside city made famous by debouched and fun seeking GI’s during the Vietnam War. To be honest, it’s far from the sweetest dish in Vietnam – but that’s all a part of the experience.

The traffic was in full fury. There was a whole swarm of motorbikes seemingly hurtling at full speed into a traffic abyss. It was mesmerising to watch, and the traffic lights appeared to make no difference at all.

Sometime around about then I realised that in one way or another I had to get across this road, and then across the one after that. Given that I’d seen more dodges and swerves than in a flyweight-boxing match, and without a single blow every beings struck, I just went for it. Hands on the tops, away from the brakes, full speed and head on. 

Even now it brings a nervous grin to my face just to think about it – having lived in Southeast Asia for many years now I can confidently say that had I tried this anywhere else I would be lucky to be alive. Somehow it seems to a part of everyday road madness here, and its kind of fun too, once you accept it that is.

Within minutes of the chaos I was out of this hornets nest and riding along a sweet coastal road, with the dreaded slopes of Hai Van Pass pinching at the distant horizon. 

All in the climb tops out at a humble snip under 500- meters tall. This may sound like a ride in the park; although I can assure that it’s anything but, and lives up to its hefty repute.