Ride Through Vietnam
Who wouldn’t want to go and see and explore Vietnam, where it’s affordable, offers good food, and has amazing nature? And who wouldn’t want to do something more—far more—than just stay in resorts and get around by public transport? Traveler Lukáš Podiuk, along with a group of friends, went to Vietnam on their own and traveled the entire country on motorbikes. (Document here.)
When I saw the documentary and heard Lukáš’s narration, ‚a bug landed in my head.‘ This adventure sounded so tempting that I knew it would be just a matter of time before I could go and explore Vietnam by myself. Despite all the problems happening around the world, the right time finally arrived, and I could go for this dream ride! … A ride of dreams?
I got to know the true face of Vietnam, just as Lukáš said. And what is it like? Continue reading the story. Maybe you’ll be inspired, as the boys inspired me, and you’ll want to go to Vietnam too, or maybe not at all. Such an encounter with Vietnam is a venture into the great unknown, no matter how much you prepare in advance. You never know what you might experience, and believe that every journey will be different, whether you travel solo or with someone else.
The right time to release that Vietnamese bug finally arrived, just before my journey to Australia, where I am currently on a Work and Holiday visa. When I’m crossing multiple continents and time zones like this one, I like to make a stopover. A ticket doesn’t even need to be more expensive because airlines flying from Europe to the East have transfer stations in Asian destinations. Stopping halfway also helps with jetlags—gradually getting used to another time zone.
When I finally decided to go to Vietnam, I was in Morocco on the surf trip. Adventures like this can’t start any other way than by booking a flight ticket. I kept an eye on the prices for about a month and finally bought a one-way ticket with Qatar. I flew from Vienna to Ho Chi Minh City with a transfer in Doha. The next step was applying for a visa and making contact with Franta.
Franta is a Vietnamese who lived in the Czech Republic for 20 years and therefore speaks Czech well. In addition, he services and rents motorbikes right in the center of Ho Chi Minh. I wrote down the pros and cons and decided to ask Franta for a Honda XR150, even for a higher price. I was lucky because he still had one more, the last one, in ‚stock!‘ It was his personal one.
After returning from Morocco, I had a week to prepare not just for the trip to Vietnam but also for Australia. Several goodbyes with family and close ones, and on November 4th, I’m getting on a train in Olomouc, officially starting new adventures. Czech Railways and RegioJet did not disappoint me again. Despite a one-hour delay, I got to the airport in Vienna with enough time to catch my flight. The whole relocation, including a 3-hour layover, lasted about 15 hours.
It was funny to get a seat next to a Moroccan who was flying to Vietnam to work as an English teacher and had never been to Vietnam before. We had a nice talk, and because of that, the flight went quickly.
Landing in Ho Chi Minh City and getting out of the airport at 2 PM, buying a sim card, and ordering Grab (a cheaper taxi). The way to the hostel was my very first Vietnamese experience. For the first time in my life, I saw four people riding on one scooter, as well as motorbikes overloaded so much that the bikes themselves were barely visible. But the person who was carrying about a 3-meter high tree just behind him killed that.
An hour after my arrival at the hostel, Franta sent a message that he is already waiting downstairs with the motorbike. We got to know each other, went for dinner, and managed the administration regarding renting the motorbike. It was getting late, so we said goodbye for now, and I went to look around the city center, which was currently swaying in a Friday party rhythm. The center itself, named Bui Vien Walking Street, is one big party universe.“
The next morning, I packed all my stuff on the motorbike, hoping that everything would fit as I planned. I went with Franta for Phở Bò, and he gave me a few more tips and advice before my departure. Midday struck, and I left Ho Chi Minh City for my first 220 km, riding solo for the first time in a foreign country.
The main part of the route stretched straight in three ways, with speed restrictions constantly changing between 60/80/100 km. I didn’t pay enough attention to those signs and drove according to the navigation, which was showing 80, but I was actually at 60. After about an hour of riding, I had to stop for the first time involuntarily when a policeman waved at me with some white stick.
I had heard about some strategies for dealing with traffic stops in Vietnam, but I ended up acting naturally, and we spoke in English. They showed me a photo where they measured me driving at 78, and after about 5 minutes of discussion, they wanted to charge me about 5 million. I started laughing and told them I needed to find some more information. I found on Google that for exceeding a speed by 10-20 km/h, fines are around 500 thousand – 1 million Vietnamese dongs, so I offered them 400 thousand. They insisted on a million. Finally, after a few minutes of haggling, I offered them 600 thousand (roughly EUR 60). They accepted it without any other word, and I was able to leave without any further paperwork. Did I pay too much? Probably.
Just before sunset, I arrived at a beautiful place by the ocean, which the way itself brought to me unplanned. A bit of fun with the locals, the first ride on the sand along the beach, and then quickly to the accommodation, as it was already getting dark, and driving late in Vietnam is quite dangerous.
The next day, I woke up to the pleasant sound of waves hitting the shore, just about 15 meters away from my bed. I started the day with morning yoga, and after breakfast, I set off towards the city of Da Lat, where I was supposed to meet Oliver, an American with similar plans. We got in touch via Facebook before arriving in Vietnam and were looking forward to sharing part of the trip together.
After a few kilometers, when I had already left the city, an unpleasant incident occurred while overtaking a truck. I was revving a lot when the throttle cable snapped, my hand rotated, and the bike suddenly stopped accelerating. So, I pushed the brakes, let go of the truck, stopped, and wondered what to do now. After 5 minutes, I realized that I couldn’t do much without tools, and since I had been driving uphill the whole time, I couldn’t find anything better than to turn around, slide down in neutral, and ask random people. Luckily, it didn’t happen somewhere further away, in the middle of nowhere.
The first people I came across were not willing to help; they just waved their hands in some direction away from their property. So, I continued for about 5 minutes, and suddenly, a guy on a scooter appeared behind me, grabbed my handlebars, and pulled me with his scooter to the nearest mechanic. In just a few minutes, we were at something like a service station. The guy didn’t even stop; he just let go of me and waved. They fixed my accelerator provisionally, then I was able to go to the next service station, which was a little further. In this one, they changed the entire cable, and after an hour, I finally turned it back up the hill.
The way started to get a lot more interesting as I headed from the coast back inland, into the mountains. The road became curvy and twisty, with mountains appearing in the distance. It wasn’t far to Da Lat, another 220 km, and since I got delayed, which I didn’t expect, I had to use more throttle to avoid arriving late. With a smile on my face, I revved it again, now with peace in my mind. I won’t forget how it was when I had to drive another 1.5 hours to Da Lat. It was getting late, and the road led through an endless village, full of cars and bikers. I was passing them all like in some video game. It’s hard to describe, but I really enjoyed that; it was a great flow.
I finally arrived in Da Lat just after dark, and Oliver and I headed out to see The Flower Festival, which was ongoing. We had some drinks at a haunted bar. Finally, we got back to the hostel, exhausted and excited for what the next day would bring to us.
In the morning, we said goodbye to the wonderful, small, and smiling host, and set off on one of the best roads in southern Vietnam. The descent from 1600 meters above sea level to the coast, to the city of Nha Trang, did not wipe away our smiles and the joy of riding. The weather was great, neither too hot nor too cold. We stopped for photos, had a snack, and continued to the next turns. After about 2.5 hours and 100 kilometers, we both started to notice that our different paces didn’t suit us, so we split up.
The ride went well, and I arrived in Nha Trang, continuing to Tuy Hoa because I still had half the distance to cover. From Nha Trang, it was just a straight road, and it was pretty windy, but I didn’t mind at all, thanks to the great morning ride. In total, I covered over 250 km that day and arrived again just after dark.
Regarding this day and the entire trip, I would like to note that whether one decides to travel alone or with someone, it doesn’t really matter much, in my opinion. Being independent and following your own itinerary is just as good as joining someone, sharing the experience, and having a lot of fun. Anyway, I traveled alone, but during the journey or at hostels, I met a bunch of people who crossed my path, and I rarely felt lonely.
Upon arrival, I was greeted by a group of Vietnamese people celebrating the birthday of one of them, insisting that I join them. After a shower, I almost automatically collapsed onto the bed when the door suddenly opened, and the group came for me. Well, let’s go then. It turned out to be a lot of fun, with a few beers and, after a few shots of happy water (rice liquor), I even offered my cherry brandy that I brought along for special occasions. As for what happened next, I really don’t know for sure.
My mobile, which I use for navigation, stops working in the rain. After a few kilometers, the road straightens out a bit, and I can stop—or rather, I have to stop, because the road suddenly disappears in front of me, leaving only a muddy, muddy mess. I get off the bike and go to check it out on foot. I really think the road ends here, and I have to turn around and go back up that infinitely steep hill. It’s slippery as hell, and after 10 meters around the bend, the road continues again, so I go back to the bike. I still really don’t know whether to go for it or not. What if there are more sections like this, even worse, and I’ll have to go back through this one, I thought. Oh well, I’ll take a photo of it to have something to show, and since I have the enduro with proper tires, and on the other hand, minimal experience with off-road riding… it’s at least 1:1, I’m going for it. (At that moment, the saying „A calm sea never made a skilled sailor“ came to my mind; I read it a few days ago in some post :D.) I managed to get through, I don’t really know how; I was so focused that I probably had a blackout. So, I continue on, hoping for the best. I hope in vain, after a while, I reach another place where I’m even more screwed. The road doesn’t end, but it continues beyond a pit, or rather, a „staircase like an idiot.“ And if I somehow manage to get down it, there’s no way back up, especially if I had to return. I decide to walk a bit further, and the road seems to be in better condition than before after this spot. I look at the stairs and the space under the bike, and again the stairs and my stomach… I shake my head, thinking that Martin, your common sense tells you that if the front wheel falls into that hole, you’ll be lying on your stomach at best, or at worst, you’ll fly over the handlebars. I look at the navigation again and realize that I’m only halfway through the journey before this madness reconnects to the main road. I also notice that I have no signal, and before the road connects, it also crosses a river. Is there a bridge? I have no idea, and I’m in total despair. By that, I mean I have no inkling of how to decide. I don’t want to go back to the mud-cross, but I also don’t want to go over the drop. Rain and fog, and so I sit there for about 20 minutes, snacking, watching everything that has happened, is happening, and could happen from all sides, angles, and heights, and I’m contemplating how I could hack it. What would you do?
Start: 14.6944685N, 108.3726114E, Finish: 14.7484996N, 108.3867198E, Total length: 8.3 km, Descending: 1km
Time demanding: 2.5 hours (For curiosity’s sake, it comes out to an average driving of 55 meters per minute.)
After joining the main road, there were only another 200 km to the city of Hoi An. Originally, I wanted to stay in the somewhat closer city of Tam Ky, but I received a message from Oliver, who was already in Hoi An, at the Mad Monkey party hostel. It’s a franchise with an outdoor pool, bar, and a super crew that ensures guests have a good time. On the way, I manage to have a bit of fun on the beach, and I arrive in Hoi An after dark. During the last few kilometers before the destination, it became pitch dark, and a downpour from storm clouds washed away the last traces of mud. My craving for a beer is unbearable, so I don’t even bother with a raincoat. In the end, instead of a beer, there were several drinks, karaoke, and a good party.
After a proper dose of sleep, I set out to explore the city of Hoi An. As I later find out, it’s considered one of the most beautiful cities in Vietnam by many. However, what captures my attention the most are the tailor shops that line every corner. Here, you can have beautiful suits tailor-made for various occasions. Unfortunately, I don’t have room for a suit and no upcoming opportunity to wear one. Once again, I bid farewell to Oliver, have a late lunch, and move on to the nearby Da Nang.
I’ve covered over 1200 km in total. I really like the city; it feels modern, the streets are beautiful and tidy – a bit of order after six days of chaos is a real relief. I come across countless restaurants of various cuisines and cafes with different concepts, so I automatically decide to stay here for a while and „recharge my batteries.“ I urgently need a new phone, which I end up buying at a discount, as it was something like Black Friday. After checking in and taking a nap, I can’t resist and set out to explore the surroundings. After visiting the local beaches, where surfing is supposedly possible, I head to a nearby peninsula, which, according to the maps, seems packed with tourist attractions. However, I realize that it recently rained a lot, and some roads are still not repaired. It’s getting late, so I turn around at the giant Buddhist statue and temple, heading back for dinner with a Czech guy who has been living here for a while. He takes me to an excellent Vietnamese restaurant for Bun Cha soup, which I had never tried before. It was delicious, and we had a good chat. Fully satisfied, I fall into bed and drift off to sleep without an alarm.
The next morning, I head to a nearby waffle café for breakfast. It’s a coffee shop concept specializing exclusively in waffles, but in such a variety and combinations that I couldn’t decide which one to have and with what. Well, it continued like that, a treat every two hours. Each time, I was thoroughly satisfied, but later I began to feel that I might be overdoing it with the indulgence. With Jirka and his girlfriend, we went for burgers and beer in the evening, and at 9 PM, I went to see a show happening on the local bridge. The Dragon Bridge completely closes for 15 minutes, and the dragon’s head at the end of the bridge first spews fire and then water. I feel ready to move on, and when I open the maps in the evening, I find out that the Ho Chi Minh Trail awaits me. At that moment, I had no idea what it actually meant, but I had heard of this name, and my eyes lit up. After a bit of googling, I find out that it’s not the same as the Ho Chi Minh Trail that leads through Cambodia. I couldn’t find any map or much information about this trail, so I admit that venturing into such unknown territory could be a fatal mistake. Reading about the possibility of unexploded mines in the area around the trail, I immediately dismiss the idea; that’s too much even for me. I enjoy testing various limits, but this was beyond the line. Or maybe it’s a reason to come back someday? Satisfied, with rest and plans for the next days, I peacefully fall asleep.
The next day, as I leave the city for the last time, I wave to the dragon, and for the first section after Da Nang, I tackle the Hai Van Pass. It’s a very nice road that winds near the coast, offering beautiful views around each curve. However, by noon, I reach the city of Hue, where I stop for lunch and head inland, towards the mountains. Just beyond the city, the landscape begins to change, and despite occasional rain showers and fog in the higher sections, I thoroughly enjoy everything. Not many people travel this route; sometimes, I didn’t encounter anyone for an hour. It worried me a bit, considering the distances ahead, behind, and only me in between, but gradually, I got used to it and continued peacefully… and further. Before it got dark, it started pouring rain, pitch-black darkness set in, and the navigation said sorry, 20 km more, bro. These kilometers felt endless because I couldn’t go faster than 50 km/h, and I also discovered that my rear light wasn’t working. I realized that I might have overdone the break for lunch and a little piano playing. Fortunately, I arrived safely. However, at the hotel, where I didn’t make a booking, they were full. No problem, in 5 minutes, I found another one where they had the last spot for me.
In the morning, I’m drying my shoes with a hairdryer, and here it is—I’m leaving Khe Sanh, and the journey begins on THAT road, those concrete blocks where people rode during the war. Since then, not much has changed on this stretch, maybe some road signs, guardrails, markings, and a repaired bridge have been added. But it’s still a 200 km narrow winding road, just a stone’s throw from the Cambodian border, where you won’t find any shops or gas stations. Just a few villages where people live a very traditional way of life. I really enjoyed this motorcycle journey, including the beautiful nature around it. When riding a motorcycle like this, where steering doesn’t require much effort, everything just flows effortlessly, and you wish it would continue forever instead of reaching the destination. It’s about steering with your eyes and subtly shifting your weight. It’s about merging, flowing.
It’s as if it’s deliberately happening. Always after the best sections, there’s an afterparty waiting for me. Even though I arrive tired and almost collapsing after a shower, I convince myself to at least go for a welcome drink. Automatically, I engage in conversation with other travelers, and the energy is back. Karaoke, boom boom…
Phong Nha, the town I arrived in the evening, suddenly emerged amidst hundreds of towering rocky hills, much like my morning hangover. The town thrives on tourism, with its main attraction being breathtaking caves. Before I could even open my eyes in the morning, it was already too late to embark on a cave tour, and I didn’t want to stay for another day. Reflecting on how I would approach this motorcycle journey across Vietnam, I concluded that ticking off tourist must-dos isn’t my priority, so I continue on my way.
There weren’t many options for the next stops and accommodations, but I did find one: an eco-friendly cottage amidst islets where green tea is cultivated. Here, I encountered several other motorcycle travelers, and over a shared dinner, we exchanged stories and shared experiences.
How pleasant it was to fall asleep and wake up in such a windowless cottage surrounded by nature. I bid farewell and set off towards Ninh Binh. In this region, regarding the roads, there isn’t anything too interesting. So, I simply rode through the landscape I had become accustomed to, where rice fields alternated with villages, and occasionally something else. This continued until I entered a muddy area. I had to navigate through a substantial downpour because the entire 30km stretch, including the village lining it, was completely covered in mud. The locals didn’t seem to mind much; they continued cheerfully as if it were normal. Even the children were enjoying it, and no one seemed too concerned about clearing away the mud.
As I arrived after dark, I had no idea what awaited me the next morning. The views directly from the accommodation were amazing. So, I spent the entire good afternoon having breakfast, occasionally taking care of some tasks on my laptop. However, my attention was dedicated to the beauty surrounding me, and I couldn’t get enough of it. In the afternoon, a group of Indians arrived, and I struck up a conversation with them. Together, we took a trip to Ninh Xuan – a hike to a viewpoint with a dragon at its summit, offering views of the local landscape. We concluded the evening at an Indian restaurant, deciding to extend my stay for another night.
The next morning, as I was contemplating, a bus full of Vietnamese teachers arrived, celebrating the Vietnamese Teachers‘ Day. After a while, I grabbed my camera, and the teachers started posing. Eventually, it turned into a good hour-long photo session. I processed the photos and shared them. They thanked me with a communal lunch. I packed up, took a farewell photo with the hostel management, with whom I had a good laugh. I set out, just 2 hours, 100 km, and I was in Hanoi. It was Friday, and I felt like socializing, so I chose Central Backpackers – a party hostel again. As I approached Hanoi, I started to feel a terrible smell from the even more terrible traffic. The closer to the center, the worse it got. Preparations for the evening markets were in full swing, so I navigated my bike through the urban jungle. When I arrived at the hostel, they immediately sent me away – no parking. Overnight parking for the bike outside was not a good idea at all, so I searched for a good hour in the vicinity until the owner of a pastry shop approached me, offering to leave my bike in her house for 30,000 VND. I wasn’t entirely sure about it, so I continued searching for an alternative for a while. Since I didn’t find any, I returned to the pastry shop, left the bike, grabbed my bags, and went to the hostel. Finally arriving at the hostel, I checked in at the reception, and one of the biggest fuck-ups occurred. They couldn’t find my reservation, and they were fully booked. How is that possible? The day of the reservation is correct, but the month? Hmm, instead of November, December. When I confirmed the booking during the morning photo session, I clicked wrong. Fuuuuck, Friday, hidden bike, other accommodations in the center sold out, and that also meant no party. So, I went back for the bike and headed to a more distant place, luckily with available space. In the evening, I returned to explore the markets, and with Elvis, a Spanish guy I met a few days ago, who happened to be at the same accommodation, we went for a burger. After all that, there was no energy left for anything else. zzzZZZzzZZZZz
I didn’t want to linger too long in Hanoi because my journey would only end when I had covered the entire north. A few more days of adventure and exploration awaited. My morning task was to buy a ticket for the night train to Lao Cai and find some clothing because it wouldn’t be as warm where I was heading. Following the advice of travel websites, I headed to the train station early in the morning to ensure a spot for both myself and my motorbike. However, the lady behind the counter refused to sell me a ticket for the motorbike, claiming that the train wouldn’t transport motorcycles today or tomorrow. When I asked why and when it would resume, I kept getting the same nonsensical response, „motorcúú úú paaanééě.“ It all seemed strange to me since, according to the official website, this train does transport motorcycles. So, I called the information hotline, where I learned that the tickééét is at the staátion, sir. I wasn’t going back to that lady, oh no, but what now? First, coffee. During my coffee, I studied the map, examining the 300 km winding road that runs alongside the highway. I couldn’t ride on the highway. I was looking forward to making it a bit easier on myself and taking a break because my backside was starting to hurt from the daily motorcycle rides. What options did I have now? No train, ride the entire Vietnam, no scam. And I have to leave today to make it there tomorrow. Before I leave Hanoi, I have the bike serviced, enjoy some Bun Bo Nam Bo, and get a massage. In the late afternoon, I’m finally ready and heading to Ba Vi. A bit later, the navigation directs me to the highway where motorcycles are prohibited. My inattention suddenly turns into maximum concentration as I have to navigate the next 12 kilometers between trucks. Alone, a lone motorcyclist with a still non-functioning taillight. So, I let the turn signal blink continuously. Utter madness, a few slaps, please!
The next day, I keep riding, kilometer after kilometer alongside the highway, passing and overtaking it… until I reach the turnoff to Sa Pa. I’ve only visited the Vietnamese Sapa in Prague so far, but now I’m heading to the original, the highest place in all of Vietnam, and not for a market. The ascending, winding road leads me to the village and thousands of rice fields nestled between the mountains, especially captivating as the sun sets. The highest peak, Fan Si, reaches up to 3,143 meters above sea level. I put on an extra layer of clothing I bought yesterday. Finally, I arrive at the last short corridor that ascends to the accommodation. This was a very demanding conclusion as my bike skids in the turn, and I fall for the first time, on my elbow and knee. After taking a moment to catch my breath, I gather all the remaining energy to lift the bike back up and finally let us both park and rest for the day. The locals notice me struggling and rush to help because the slope was so steep that Franta didn’t manage to get up, and I couldn’t turn around either. I’m here, and the Vietnamese train can go get packed! A shower, a grand family dinner, and a good dose of sleep follow.
When I wake up in the morning with a sore knee, plans change once again. I wanted to leave Franta with Franta for at least one day and go for a hike to one of the local peaks, but with this knee… Fortunately, it doesn’t hurt that much, and I can continue on the motorbike. The views here are really worth it, ohh, I really wanted to climb some hill and see everything from a higher perspective. So maybe next time. I set out to explore Sapa, arriving at the O Quy Ho Pass viewpoint. Here, I meet the first Czechs, exchange a few words, take photos of each other, and then head towards Bac Ha. Northern Vietnam starts to enchant, one road after another and one curve after another in its prime. I stop for a photo and stay for the sunset. Adam arrives, and we share this magical moment. We exchange contacts, and in the evening, we meet up for a beer. We have the same plans, both of us looking forward to the best that Vietnam has to offer to motorbike enthusiasts. Adam is a bit younger than me, studying to become a doctor and currently on study leave. He is from Italy and started a few days ago in Hanoi, also riding through the entire Vietnam.
However, from Bac Ha, I set out early in the morning alone because I’ve gotten used to getting up early and arriving at my destination before wandering around in the dark. It’s a good thing I did because the road from Bac Ha to Ha Giang was in the midst of complete reconstruction. Riding through mud and even waiting for an hour as they cleared rocks from the road. This is something you wouldn’t encounter easily in Europe. Instead of the 4 hours the navigation indicated, it turned into a day-long ordeal on a road that, thanks to Franta, my enduro, I rather enjoyed. Adam had a tougher time, with seemingly more waiting, and his bike, well, let’s say it wasn’t as suited for off-roading as mine. But we both made it, and in the evening, we toast with Czech beer at the hostel, which I managed to get ahead of time at a nearby convenience store. However, Budweiser Budvar with the label „original Czech lager“ was far from the taste of a genuine Czech lager; it tasted like rice. Even Adam noticed that it tasted strange. Nevertheless, after a day like that, any beer is welcome.
In the morning, it’s drizzling, so we don’t rush anywhere. Several guided groups set out from the hostel where I’m staying, also beginning the Ha Giang loop. However, we’re seasoned riders, going on our own, haha. After a while, the rain stops, and before leaving the city, we stop for service. Not far from the city, we catch up and overtake these groups because they are going at about 40, maximum. We wouldn’t enjoy that pace. After a while, a few kilometers outside the city, nothing else captures my attention except the environment we are in, the curves dividing it, and the hills all around, including the ones we are tackling with Adam and our bikes. The first stop is at the Quan Ba Heaven Gate. I think, Vietnam, it’s hard to top this. We let ourselves be carried away by the view for a while, take a photo, and as the approaching groups arrive, so does the fog, covering the entire view like porridge in a pot. And so, we continue. Of all the kilometers I’ve ridden on the motorcycle, these are some of the best, and I’m thoroughly enjoying them. There’s nothing like sharing this joy with someone else. As the kilometers passed and time flowed, we became hungry. Just as Adam and I ordered food, Anna and Mike arrived. We exchange glances, smiles, words, and instantly start chatting, laughing, and connecting. It was immediately clear that we would all continue together, so we promptly book accommodation together.
This paragraph is dedicated to a particular moment, as after setting out together to conquer more kilometers, I felt like the road ahead was being painted by some Picasso himself. The road suddenly descended into a narrow gorge, disappearing beyond the horizon, with beautiful hills in the distance. The entire scene was complemented by swirling mist and the time, half an hour before sunset. We looked at each other, filled with anticipation, and eagerly moved forward to find out what awaited us. The road twisted like a snake, and out of nowhere, we suddenly stood in a parking lot, gazing at the stretch we had just passed through, where an indescribable atmosphere permeated us. „What is happening here?“ Adam asked. Children playing strange musical instruments I had never seen or heard before. Girls with baskets full of flowers. All of this together created one of the most magical moments I experienced in Vietnam. We have to go; it’s getting dark. We still have about 40 minutes to accommodation. We drive carefully, slowly, into the mountains, and it’s getting colder. Mike has been running on reserve for a while. We contemplate what to do about it, but our indecision is interrupted by the incoming rain, so we rush to our lodging, hoping the gas will last. „It always works out somehow, something will be figured out, I’ll handle it somehow for sure“ – these and similar mantras will accompany you through Vietnam whether you want them to or not. Without this mindset, one might go crazy… At the lodging, a smiling Vietnamese awaits us, with whom we confirm a shared/family dinner. After a shower, we take several shots of cherry liquor, and finally, starving, we sit down for dinner. The tastiest Vietnamese dinner I’ve ever had. We take more shots and enjoy a lot of fun together.
Waking up well-rested to a rainy morning, we indulge in delicious pancakes with fruit for breakfast. Our energy seems boundless – we continue to share stories and laughter even in the incessant rain. It’s only after two hours, following our agreed-upon plan for the day, that we pack up, bid farewell to our fantastic hosts, and head towards the Chinese border. The first challenge is the lack of gasoline, which the locals couldn’t help us with. They don’t have gasoline here. Perhaps they don’t even have motorcycles; why would they need gasoline, huh? They describe the way to the nearest store, but their directions are incomprehensible to both of us. After dozens of random kilometers, we finally stumble upon something like a convenience store, with a few dirty glass bottles of gasoline priced three times more than usual. With no other options, we purchase a few bottles, „refuel,“ and hope it will work. IT WORKS! The rain has finally completely stopped. Once again, it’s an amazing road, great sections, and breathtaking views where we stop to take in the beauty of the local landscape. We traveled 40 km on winding roads before reaching the northernmost point of Vietnam, which also serves as the border with China. Several Chinese structures are present, but don’t expect anything like the borders or checkpoints we know in Europe. The road simply ends, and there’s nothing beyond that. After climbing to a partially constructed Chinese palace that offers a nice view of the surroundings, we realize that this border is just kilometers of inaccessible forests and hills, without any wall or fence. There was an unknown atmosphere at this place, likely stemming from the realization that I am indeed stepping into China, a country about which I know absolutely nothing. We’re hungry, so on our way to accommodation, just a few kilometers from the border, we stop for food. It’s already late afternoon, and a few minutes after receiving our meals, someone from the restaurant brings a live pig, tied to a motorcycle, which squeals loudly. We look at each other in disbelief, hoping this won’t really happen. While we were in the midst of our meals, they started slaughtering the pig right in front of the restaurant, just a few meters from our table. It was a truly raw experience that Vietnam wrote itself. The hunger we previously felt quickly turned into satiety, and some of us felt nauseous. However, we finished our meals because they were actually good, and everyone had vegetarian dishes. But even if not, at least one would know what they were eating.
We arrived at the accommodation already in the dark, once again soaked. We parked quickly and went to bed. The next morning, our paths diverged. Mike and Anna are heading back, completing the entire Ha Giang loop, while Adam and I have one more day with a shared route to the east. We were truly a great team, and I wished we could spend more time together; the thought lingered in my mind. At the same time, I realize that unlike Adam, my adventurous journey is ending in just three days. However, I don’t intend to be sad because every minute, experience, and adventure on this journey is the main goal, and looking back, it has been quite pleasant and smooth.
After a few hugs and good luck wishes, Adam and I, the best partners covering each other’s backs, set out to discover what Vietnam had in store for us today. The plan includes a bit of off-road, crossing a river on a bamboo raft, and continuing somewhere in the hills near the Chinese border. In the last few days, the rain mainly fell overnight, which was better in one way but turned normally passable roads into slippery tracks. The road leading to our designated point, where a boat should take us across the river, began to resemble the „Mr. or Mrs. Eagle“ path. When we reached the turnoff, which should lead us down to the river in a kilometer, we agreed that this probably wouldn’t work. The road ran along the edge of the hill, all muddy. Despite doubts, I decided to give it a try. As the saying goes: you won’t really know until you try. So, tackling about 100 meters back and forth took me 20 minutes, and I returned covered in mud but with a smile on my face.
We decided to explore the surroundings a bit more and then head back. Crossing the river was the only way to continue. As we were heading back and Adam was waiting for me, his foot slipped, and he fell on the left side with the motorcycle. Nothing happened to him, but the entire clutch lever broke, making it impossible to shift normally. Adam called the rental agency and sought advice on the nearest service. However, it was the weekend, and as promised, no one called back within the next half hour. There was nothing else to do but let it roll downhill, shift without the clutch, and ride somewhere with at least some civilization. Fortunately, on our way back, we stumbled upon a mechanic in a small village who had almost identical spare parts. He enthusiastically embarked on the replacement. However, it took him 2 hours as he had to replace and adjust the cable and clutch. We spent a large part of the day waiting. The Vietnamese charged only 150 CZK for all his efforts, but Adam, extremely grateful, gave him a tip. I would have done the same. Unfortunately, we don’t have much time left; we try in vain to find something good to eat, and the navigation still indicates arrival after dark. Eventually, we receive a response from the accommodation that they can prepare dinner for us. Tired, we look forward to eating and sharing the last beer and happy water together.
Another day passed like water. Now, in turn, I bid farewell to Adam. It was a fantastic ride, buddy, and thanks for letting me share it with you. With words that we’ll undertake something together again sometime, I set off. I start early in the morning because I anticipate a longer and more challenging ride to reach the destination on the penultimate day. And I did well because just a few kilometers away, I stop and wait as they are repairing the road again. Today will be the last kilometers in the Vietnamese mountains, the last kilometers of the best bends that never get boring. The highlight of today is the Khau Coc Cha Mountain Pass, a cascading, winding road carved into the rock. Thanks to this connector, I could climb over the saddle, and only a drone photo reveals what a great sight it is. Sometimes I felt like Vietnam was just a dream, the omnipresent green color of nature, mist in the hills, lakes, rivers, and clean air. I constantly experience recurring feelings of gratitude as this unfolds before me. The landscape begins to change in the afternoon, with more towns and roads and fewer beautiful hills. I buy fruits and chocolate donuts, which become the main dish of the day.
Franta, my motorcycle, has had enough on this day. The front brake pads were worn out a few days ago, and now the front brake doesn’t work at all. The rear one wasn’t much better, so the engine became my main brake. I noticed the lack of oil in the front shock absorber a few days ago, and now there was none on one side, so I had to ride in a crouch to at least somewhat absorb the shocks of the bumpy road. Despite all this, Franta manages to bring me safely. Franta, you’re a champ!
The following day is the last day, concluding this Vietnamese journey from the South to the North, from the West to the East. Riding through the final stretch leading to the coastal city named Ha Long, I’m taking it easy with Franta. Both of us have had enough. Franta needs an overhaul, so I at least treat him to a final oil change, and for myself, some Vietnamese KFC. I feel like I’m starting to catch a cold, so I look forward to seeing the sea, having a drink, and being able to relax for a while. At this moment, I already have my flight tickets organized, and I have a few extra days to absorb everything before flying to Australia. Ha Long is the best place I could choose as the end of this journey. It’s a very photogenic city with promenades and beachfront cafés.
After two nights in Ha Long, I hop on the motorcycle for the last time and head to Hanoi, where I return Franta. The next day, I fly to Ho Chi Minh, where I meet Franta’s dad, share my journey and experiences with him. And then, after a good night’s sleep, after 24 days, after 4400 kilometers on roads, off roads, through jungles, and essentially everything possible and impossible, I leave Vietnam.
