we have spent the last week exploring the mekong delta by bike. first impressions were that it was a plastic laden swamp surrounded by urban sprawl, and that all of the mystery and interest that surrounds the last stretch of this awesome river system had been pillaged and raped by the last 3 generations of inhabitation by the virus with shoes. the first 2 days were spent trying to get escape from the traction beam of highways motorbikes and communist era construction that surrounds saigon. we reached mytho, the first big town out of the city, and the town with the most corrupt police force in the country (thereby making it one of the poorest towns in the country). we stayed at a hotel that was the strangest i have ever experienced. our room was on the second floor, and was massive. about 12X12 square metres. it had concrete walls that were covered for most of the room by rows of old doors with a glass pane and veneer panneling. the floor was of the same red and white tiles that are present in S21 in cambodia (the prison where 30,000 political prisioners were held, beaten, and killed), giving the place an eerie feel. the roof leaked, and in the bathroom the shower water flowed backwards into the bedroom into a drain in the corner. we had a small room next to the doorway that had a massage table in it for some reason, and there was a solitary loudspeaker hanging on the wall with nothing attaching it to anything useful. we did manage to find a place to have icecream though, so had desert and watched the bats circling in the roof of the small cafe next to a big lake. people who are on a one day tour of the delta only get to see this town, which is really sad because its shit. cantho, the next stop, is a little better. we found a cool guesthouse (where we stayed for 3 days cause i got a little ill, and i only discovered the hot water on our last morning), and much western food because i think this is a major tourist destination. we signed up for an 8 hour boat tour of the canals in the region in our weakened post biking state that the guesthouse owner took full advantage of.
awoke at the prescribed hour of 6am to a full tropical downpour. we donned our john ponchovies that we bought on the ride out and waited for our no english words guide to show up. when he finally appeared the rain had stopped so we ventured tenderly out into the murk and onto his wooden boat. we spent an hour cruising the market, drinking coffee from green plastic cups with straws (the first coffee ive ever purchased on a boat from someone on another boat... whole new cafe idea there) and eating bread before our guide headed us off up some random canal. when the stilt houses thinned out a little, the trip began to take on the appocalypse now type surreality that i was hoping to find so i sat on the prow and watched the palms and plantations glide past. we had lunch at a small place on the bank and lay in hammocks till it was time to head home. the trip back was definately worse, as the pollution in some of the canal networks is really bad. our propellor blades got fouled by plastic bags 5 or 6 times. each time he stops the engine, picks the shreds of plastic off then throws them back in the river. i would have thought he would at least realise what caused the problem and take them home to put in the bin. not so. people here really have no idea, and the sad part is that there is no hope. the kids throw rubbish in the river just as much as adults do, so there is obviously no concept of environment, even among those who go to school. kinda makes me pray for holocaust.
next day, rode to long xuen (or something) which is pronounced long shun or shin (or something), still cant make myself understood. i say "long shun, this way?" blank looks. "long shun." point this way. blank looks. point to long xuen in the book. "oooooh long shun." goddamnit thats what i said. well its a boring town with 2 good things. a mall selling fruitjuice cashews and chocolate. ooooooh yeaaaaaaaaah. and a church that looks like a cheap version of the temple of nod (C&C) without the legs. i took a photo at night that gives it a reddish glow, and makes it look most nodlike. instead of the scorpion tail, there is a long concrete arm reaching straight up that grasps a cross. the whole thing looks grotesque, but at least its something different. next day we rode to chau doc, our destination on the delta. we found a cool guesthouse with a restaurant right on the river, and had some food. many package tourists on intrepid tours, but not much else going on. we packed up our bags the next day and i attached a massive bag of our washing to my handlebars (off balancing my bike considerably) and we set off to check out a new guesthouse that looked the shit and was sposed to be 6 km out of town and 200 metres up a big hill called sam mountain. there was no guesthouse. there wasnt anything except a big fuck off hill. after riding 4 km up that with our full panniers and a bag of washing swing unpredictably from my bars we reached the top expecting another road down the other side, and just maybe a guesthouse where we could get some breakfast and do our washing. nope, only one road up and down. we looked at the view (which seemed entirely unworthy of the energy exerted in lugging 20kg each of shit to the top of the hill) and said a final goodbye to cambodia which lurked somewhere in the distance then cycled back down, stopping every 200 metres to spray water on our brake discs to cool them down. went back to our old guesthouse, and gave them our washing. couldnt be fucked riding the next day, so we rented a motorbike and burned out to 2 million dollar hill. that was a bit of fun. never ridden one before but i picked it up pretty quick and only scared the crap out of lissa a couple of times with my "dodgy" driving. this hill is thus named because the americans dropped 2 million dollars of metal and stuff on it during their little conflict. we visited the VC base which is really cool. the hill is a natural fort. its a maze of boulders and caves, some boulders 30 metres across. the americans would storm in, lose heaps of troops neutralising the place, then leave. the VC would then reoccupy their old positions. seems a simple tactic, yet apparently the yanks didnt grasp it because they had to capture the hill a few times. this is evident by the huge while letters painted on the rocks up the hill to show rally points or captured positions i guess. the letters have been crossed out in black paint by the reoccupying VC. must have been really demoralising for the americans. i tried to climb to the top but only got about halfway up cause i didnt want to fall into a chasm and set off a landmine or boobytrap. (and i was shit scared of big spiders and snakes). the extent of the attacks is ovbious from the damage to the rocks. in some places the massive round boulders have huge chunks blasted out of them and the scree and rock debris lies everywhere between them. there is the necessary firing range nearby, and communist flags flying all around the hill, so that you have no illusions about who won the battles.
back to saigon by bus this morning. it was a painless (by comparison) 7 hour journey, and we arrived to another downpour. it seems that every time we ride into this city it has to be raining. we managed to find our way to the backpacker ghetto much easier than the first time, and followed a random guesthouse tout to his family guesthouse that has a really cool room for really cheap. tomorrow get the bikes fixed up. have to fix some spokes and hopefully pick up our new disc and brakepads. hopefully. i have an alternative plan though, because i think the chance of them getting everything right is about 19%. after that, bus to dalat in the highlands. that way we get to ride downhill to na trang. thats the idea anyway...
aux.
