Born To Be Wild

I've never learnt to drive.  As a teenage-boy I never had posters of high-performance cars on my bedroom walls and I never mithered by mother for lessons nor for a car.  I guess a psychologist or a social anthropologist would define this lusting for 'wheels' as a struggle for independence - the chance to strike out alone.  For me, however, it was motorbikes rather than cars which held that position in my psyche.  That doesn't mean that I can name the various parts of an engine or even pretend to know anything about the machines.  I'm not an engineer and as anyone could attest, I'm not the kind of guy who gets excited about technology and mechanics.  Simply put, a motorbike is like any other mode of transport which gets you and your cargo from A to B.

No, what set motorbikes apart from cars in my eyes were the logistics.  Growing up, cars journeys involved lots of people in a confined space arguing about bathroom breaks and compromising over which music cassette was to be played.  Riding on the back of my grandfather's bike felt like liberation.  Whether he was taking me to rugby practice or a ride around the villages in the nearby countryside it didn't matter as I always eagerly anticipated the chance to go for a ride with him.  So, naturally, when I got old enough I opted for two wheels over four.

Since I left home as a teenager, I haven't had my own vehicle.  In Manchester, the public transport system was always sufficient for me and then when I hit the road I never really needed anything.  Living in Vietnam was the first time in a long while that that changed.  I loved my crappy little bike and the independence I felt again while on it.

Whenever you think of Vietnam, one of the enduring images is of the chaotic melee of motorbikes on the roads of Saigon or Hanoi.  Observing this can be quite a spectacle and wincing every time two motorists come within inches of colliding can make your eyes hurt.  I've been to a lot of places where the locals have 'boasted' of how crazy their drivers are and they would have been right.  However, Vietnam is the only place I've been to where I actually lived in fear of losing my life.  In fact, the World Heath Organisation officially has the country down as one of the most dangerous countries in the world for road-related fatalities; over 12,000 deaths a year.  With a population of 85 million people, this can be hard to put in to context.  So if you were to compare it with the UK (pop. 65 million), where there are around 600 fatalities, you can see just how much of a problem Vietnam has.  Many of these deaths are the result of people not wearing helmets, despite them being readily available.  I've even seen people riding along with their helmet tucked under the arms!  The other major causes are speeding and, of course, drink-driving, both of which happen as part of the norm.

Which brings me to Ty.  I met Ty coming out of the train station in Da Nang, his glorious mustache setting him apart from the others.  Usually, I am wary of being approached by touts and taxi drivers as I always feel I've been marked for a scam.  This time, I was feeling relaxed after my stay in Lang Co, and was open to his spiel.  I only wanted a lift to the bus station, but I allowed him to talk me into taking me to my final destination.  The price he quoted was only a little more than the bus ticket and after seeing his 'big-boy' bike and how comfortable it looked I gave him the chance to impress.  Ty was not only that rare thing in Vietnam of being a safe driver (using the horn when appropriate, not driving too fast, slowing down on blind bends, etc), but he also had good English and would give tidbits of interesting information along the way.  He even found a hotel for me and negotiated a cheap price (usually, you pay extra for commission when a taxi takes you to a hotel).  I looked at the room-rates board at reception upon arrival and saw that I had been given the non-foreigner price.

In Hoi An, we sat down for some food at a street stall and feeling satisfied with his abilities on a bike, we discussed a possible trip to be taken after my stay in town.  I was short on time and money, so the 6 days journey along the Ho Chi Minh trail was out of the question unfortunately, but we came to an agreement on a one-day trip.

I had set my expectations low in order to not be too disappointed if it turned out to be bad.  I needn't have worried.  Riding through the villages and the countryside, along the rivers and rice fields that made up the landscape I could remember the feeling I had with my grandfather.  In one village, we met a woman who was eager to show me how to make rice paper and in another place I met a family who conveyed, through my guide, that I was the first foreigner they had ever seen in person.  The old woman couldn't stop touching me to see whether I was real and attempted to marry me off with one of her granddaughters.  Along the way I got to sample the Ho Chi Minh trail for a couple of miles before turning off and got to meet a guy who had never left his home town in the Mekong before.  He was journeying up to Hanoi for university and stopping off at various places he had read about in books.

One such place was My Son, home to Champa ruins which had stood for centuries until the Americans bombed them to Kingdom Come during the war.  What is left is a small collection of ruins that survived the onslaught, but still give a good enough impression of what the area looked like at the time of their inception.  You could walk around the entire complex in about 30 minutes, but the backdrop of mountains and greenery made it a pleasant 2-hour stopover.

The trip ended later that evening after a long day on the back of a bike.  My legs were aching and I had caught the sun, but it had been well worth the money.  That morning I had happened to glance at the date and I had realised that it was actually the day of what would have been my grandfather's birthday.  It seemed a fitting way to spend the day.

For anyone looking for a safe and reliable motorbike guide in Vietnam, I highly recommend Ty.  He has a decade of experience and would be a great choice to add another dimension to your trip.  His number is 0905194373 and it's one that he has used for 12 years so it's unlikely to change.