Sometimes in life you just have to say "Fuck it"- you throw caution to the wind and deal with the consequences later. I have never been that person. However, when given the opportunity to spend three days on the back of a motorbike with a man I didn't know, how could I refuse?
What I am referring to are the "Easy Riders" of Dalat in Vietnam. Dalat is a sizable town up in the Central Highlands. The surrounding area is full of delightful mountains, waterfalls and many minority villages. The service the Easy Riders offer is unique in that they take you on a guided tour of the area on the back of a motorbike. The idea is that you can have a more personal tour and see more of the country with someone who knows about it.
When we first arrived in Dalat we were approached by a Mr Phuc and a Mr Thien who encouraged us to take their tour. After they'd followed us to our hotel and waited outside we felt we should hear them out. We saw that they did a three day tour to Nha Trang (our next destination) that took us to many exciting places along the way and the opportunity to stay overnight in one of the villages. They were both very enthusiastic about the trip and convinced us that the three day tour was our best option.
We handed over a deposit and agreed to start the trip the very next day. Although we'd only just arrived the initial part of the tour took us around the vicinity of Dalat and then beyond.
Although we had happily agreed to the tour we still had concerns; I had never been on the back of a motorbike before and worried about falling off; Lizzie worried it wouldn't be fun; I worried we'd be raped and murdered; Lizzie worried she'd burn her leg on the exhaust; I began worrying I'd burn my leg on the exhaust. But the Easy Riders had been recommended by guides and other travelers alike so we spent the night in Dalat convincing ourselves all would be well.
When Mr Phuc and Mr Thien met us at our hotel it seemed I would ride on the back of Mr Thien's bike and Lizzie would ride with Mr Phuc. There seemed no problem with this as both had seemed perfectly nice the previous evening and I was comforted by the fact that Mr Thien's English was slightly better.
It was clear after the first few hours that our guides were very different.
Now that we had handed over our money Mr Thien saw no need in making small talk or in fact talking to me at all. The only times when he would speak were to explain a point we'd stopped at or berate my choice of clothing. During that first day Mr Thien huffed every time I climbed on the bike because I was wearing jeans and this meant I had to stand on the foot rest to throw my legs over meaning that the bike would tip every time I did this. I tried to explain it wasn't the jeans but the fact I was too short. He ignored this and said I should wear something more appropriate tomorrow.
By comparison, when Lizzie rode with the smiley Mr. Phuc his phone went off. The ringtone was Barbie Girl by Aqua and he then proceeded to sing along. He also said that in his next life he would like to be a pig. Lizzie understandably asked why to which he replied, "All they do is get fed by women and sleep. I think it would be nice". Mr. Phuc was both adorably sweet and unknowingly funny. Mr. Thien was neither.
On our first day we visited the "Crazy House"- a hotel designed to look something like Alice in Wonderland meets a Dali painting- the Dragon temple, the Elephant waterfall, a flower farm and many villages. Despite the unfriendly nature of my guide both men were very good at explaining each visited spot and the importance in Vietnamese culture.
Over the three days we kept stopping in villages inhabited by Vietnamese minorities. Although interesting it was exceptionally awkward. Mr. Thien would lead us around showing us the differing designs of the houses and the farmland they owned. This was fine. It became uncomfortable when we went into a few people's houses and while it was amazing to see how differently people lived we couldn't help feeling we were looking at these people and their lives like animals in a zoo. It didn't help that Mr. Thien encouraged us to take pictures saying, "They don't mind they happy". This was empahsised when Mr Thien showed us a Ho Chi Minh trail bike which could carry an 300kg. He dressed Lizzie up in a conical hat and made us both pretend to push it. We felt like we were violating the culture somehow.
By the end of a brilliant but very long first day we were offered the opportunity to do a homestay in one of the villages. By "homestay" we had understood that we would be staying in a family's house. We were lead to a cabin on stilts where, inside, was an empty room of about 20m by 8m except for two mattresses with mosquito nets and electric fans. This was our room for the night. Rather surprised, and a little confused, we quickly fell asleep and only woke the next morning to the sound of tractors, cows and the constant crowing of the cockerel.
I started our second day with renewed enthusiasm thinking that maybe Mr. Thien had just been having an off day before. He hadn't. He was still rude and still unfriendly.
We stopped at various places again along the way but most memorably another waterfall surrounded by jungle where we swam for a few hours.
It was a really stunning spot with crystal clear water that we welcomed after the intense heat of the morning. The only thing that worried me was when Mr Phuc (who had just done an over-zealous butterfly stroke across to reach us) said that an Easy Rider Driver had died here a few years before. Dumbstruck with horror Lizzie tentatively asked how. Mr Phuc went on to explain, laughing as he did so, that the guide had gotten cramp and the tourists that were with him didn't understand what was going on until it was too late. We tried to express our condolences but Mr. Phuc just seemed to find it funny. We couldn't begrudge him though- maybe he thought his friend was now happier as a pig?
After "gracefully clambering" as Lizzie put it, back up the path to the bikes we carried on with our journey.
We stopped at a few more villages and several spots where the effects of Agent Orange were most prevalent.
Mr. Thien explained how the Americans had sprayed the chemical to kill off all the plants and crops of their enemy. What we didn't realise was that more than thirty years later the land would still be effected by it. It looked like patches of the hillsides were bald where things still couldn't be cultivated. More importantly it means that the small villages surrounding it are even poorer than the ones we had previously seen because they can't grow food to feed their families. I was just happy that the Vietnam War was one that Britain had decided to stay out of.
That evening, we were glad to be staying in a little hotel that both guides proudly told us had 2 stars. We were surprised by the level of luxury it gave us; it had a TV, a bath (granted no plug but I still sat in it) and air conditioning. We felt very taken care of. We all once again ate together at a restaurant and Mr Phuc made good company where as Mr. Thien went and sat at a different table once he'd finished.
We quite happily passed out in our huge beds and were a little sad at the prospect of spending our last day with Mr. Phuc and wondering if I could casually push Mr. Thien off the bike. Not so he seriously hurt himself just a scratch or two maybe.
On our final day we had a lot of ground to cover to get to Nha Trang and so a majority of the day was spent on the bike. We still managed to stop at a small basket market, a rubber tree forest, a cocoa plantation, a pepper plantation and a brick factory. These may not sound the most exciting things but we had never seen cocoa pods growing or peppercorns on a tree or even see people make bricks and so it was interesting if anything just to see a little more of the country and the work people do.
Even with these stops we still spent a lot of time on the bike and after a while my bum lost all feeling. Mr Thien seemed even less happy when I tried to shift my weight, as I had done before, and managed to make the bike almost veer off the road. Our relationship was never going to recover after that.
By mid-afternoon we arrived in the beautiful seaside resort of Nha Trang and were sad to say goodbye. Despite Mr. Thien's continual rudeness we had really enjoyed ourselves and definitely seen more of the country we could have ever of otherwise hoped for.
Lizzie wrote a stellar review for Phuc in his comment book. I was more reserved with my opinion. Mr. Thien reminded me three times to write a review for him online. He even said that he would be going on the next day to check and "Hoped he would see my review on there". I have yet to compose exactly the right phrasing for such a review all I know is that it will contain the words "bad-mannered" and "arse".
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