Day 3. Sunday. Sunday was Wedding, Market and Propaganda Day. We saw five weddings (no funerals) and like yesterday, everyone, absolutely everyone, says hello. Weddings and villages stop to clap and encourage those stupid tourists riding in the rain. I tried to learn the local lingo with Sin Chow! (“Hello”) in Vietnamese. That got our guide going. It turns out if you say it with too much Aussie cheerful inflexion, what you are actually saying is “Can I have some black pudding please”. Many a village must have thought me mad (or hungry, or ignorant!). We would have ridden 10 kms before our guide corrected me with a cheeky glint in his eye. “Trail off the Chow. Not chowwW. It’s CHOww”. I went back to just shouting “Hello”. Experiment was over.
As we travel further north towards Cambodia, the roads improve allowing for a higher average speed on the day. When I say roads, imagine wide concrete bike paths that we would experience in Australia, but winding through rice paddies, banana trees, markets, villages, bread fruit farms and corn fields.
The humidity also increased explaining the greener rice fields. Vendors on motor bikes traversed up and down these lanes, selling everything from electronics, meat and fruit from the back of their bikes – with pre-recorded street cries on tinny speakers . I tried not to think about how the meat would endure in the heat, but the fresh ice cold sugar cane juice just before lunch was a godsend.
Today was also market day. In fact, most days feel like market days, but today the route took us right through a couple of bustling events. Imagine riding through the Queen Victoria Market in Melbourne. That’s how it felt, but without anyone batting an eyelid – just trying to sell you chickens….
Travelling further north also bought about a change in ambience. Remnants of an older regime. Public radio announcements broadcast from yellowing bakelite or bashed up metal speakers for kilometers on end, setting the scene for our destination, particularly in the misty rain. Long Xyugen had ghosts of eastern Europe about it. Our hotel felt like the one in “The Shining”. Kylie and I both felt it was a bit unsettling. All it was missing was Jack Nicholson. “Here’s Johnny”.
Day 3 was our longest day in the saddle. Just a tad over 56 kilometers. Again, dead flat. Only 77 meters of elevation and that would have been over the myriad of bridges that we crossed. Venice doesn’t hold a candle to the Mekong Delta when it comes to water crossings. Speaking of water, the day did start at the floating markets of Can Tho as promised in Day Two. https://thecyclingbuzz.com/2023/09/24/vietnam-to-cambodia-day-two-tra-vinh-to-can-tho/ A dwindling phenomenon due to the success of road transport in the country, easily navigated without the help of our bikes.
Tomorrow is the last day of the tour on the bike. Heading to the border with Cambodia via the Vietnam Killing Fields in Ba Chuc. A piece of history that I’m not sure about experiencing. 150 kms done, 50 odd to go. Been a trip of a lifetime thus far.