[INDEX]|[2000 New Zealand]

Touring with Byercycles

Vietnam 99

After Sri Lanka with its Indian culture, that is so different to ours. Where can one go as

a follow up? The answer came later that year in the Cyclists Touring Club magazine. Every

December sees the publication of a list of cycle tours being organised by recognised tour leaders,

for the following year. There were six pages of tours, some in Britain others in Europe and a few

further a field. There was only one destination that was of interest to my man. During the fifties

the French had fought a war to stay and were forced to leave. In the sixties and seventies the

Americans fought a war for the south and were forced to leave. The early eighties saw the

countries own people leaving in small boats, to flee across dangerous seas to Hong Kong. The

country I am talking about is of course Vietnam, where else would you go for a holiday.

(Christine Byers)

Whenever we enter a strange land for the first time, an unexpected surprise is usually

forthcoming. The distance from the airport to the centre of Hanoi is 22 miles. At first the road was

busy but not crowded. By the time we cycled into the centre of Hanoi the traffic was dense, solid

in fact. There were hardly any cars at all, just motor bikes and pedal bikes, millions of them.

Fortunately the flow was slow and orderly, so our group of sixteen were able to stay together

without becoming lost.

The motorbikes in Hanoi

Back streets of Hanoi

Our first full day in Hanoi allowed us the opportunity to visit the mausoleum and pay

our respects to the most famous of all the Vietnamese people Ho Chi Minh. His body lies

embalmed in a glass casket. We entered the cool marble mausoleum that is guarded constantly by

soldiers who stand motionless with cold fixed stares on their faces. Slowly we walked in line past

the great mans body. Every year he is flown to Moscow for a check up and to be re-embalmed by

specialist of this art. A trip to the war museum in the afternoon was another worthwhile and

enlightening experience. It was the 31^st of December New Years Eve, we celebrated in a cafe bar,

drinking the locally brewed draught beer, poured from the tap of what looked like an old galvanised

water tank.

A two day coach excursion had been organised for us to visit the ethnic people’s

village of Mai Chua, up in the hills to the west of Hanoi. The houses in the village are all built on

high wooden stilts and were large enough to accommodate several fully extended families.

The house that we resided in for the night was specially reserved for guests and parties of tourists.

A tour of the village revealed all sorts of crafts. Men making roof tiles, a woman working at a

loom weaving material, and other women hand sowing the material into garments and bags. Our

evening meal was prepared and cooked by the village women, then eaten sitting on mats on the

bamboo floor. Later young girls came into the house to entertain us with their singing and dancing.

In that part of the world the local grog is rice wine. I think that they must be short of glasses, as it

is their custom to stand in a circle, around a large stone jug filled with the wine and suck it through

long hollow bamboo sticks. Not wanting to die from alcoholic poisoning most members of the

party treated this local moonshine with a great deal of respect. Mattresses were provided so we

could sleep that night on the same bamboo floor that we had earlier eaten our food on. Thankfully

as many people in the party were snorers the rice wine acted as an excellent sedative. It wasn’t long

before we all drifted off to sleep in this large communal room separated only by mosquito net

partitions.

Ethnic village house

The loom worker

The coach returned us to Hanoi on Saturday, then on Sunday we had our first full days

cycling to Ninh Binh 74 miles south of the capital. Train journeys have on several occasions played

an important part in our travels. Vietnam was no exception. The 11.45 train stopped at Ninh Binh

the next day. All sixteen of us with our bikes boarded this train and it departed for Hue. This city

is just south of what was the demilitarised zone before the country was unified in 1975. Trains in

Vietnam are very slow moving creatures. Our destination was 340 miles away, we sat on that train

for about fifteen hours and travelled at the average speed of 24mph, including numerous stops.

The seats in the coaches were a tubular steel frame with no padding; they were covered with

a plastic webbing material, similar to that found on a cheap deck chair, they were most

uncomfortable. I don’t think that I will ever again complain about our railway system.

There are many interesting sites to see and visit in Hue, and one full day was not

really enough time. The city was taken by the North Vietnamese army at the start of the Tet

offensive in 1968. The South Vietnamese forces backed by the American military fought for

twenty five days, eventually recapturing the city after a lot of heavy bombing that caused massive

devastation. Our visit was much more peaceful, with a dragon boat cruise along the Perfume River

to visit the tombs of Ming Mang and cycle ride back through jungle villages in the afternoon.

Da Nang 68 miles further south, also featured in new bulletins at the time of the war, because of

the giant American navel base that was built there. To reach it we continued our ride along

Highway 1, over the Hai Van Pass, five miles up and six miles down. Highway 1 is the main road

that connects Hanoi to Saigon, now renamed Ho Chi Minh City, where our cycle ride would

eventually terminate. For most of the journey the route was flat, crossing wide river estuaries,

passing through jungle areas, rice fields and coffee plantations. Many towns and villages were

dotted along the road, traffic was seldom light.

Drinking the rice wine.

In October 1998 a cyclone devastated the Central Region, causing great loss of life and

much structural damage. Long sections of the road surface were swept away by the floods that

followed. Four months later repairs were still in progress, as we were riding along. On wet days the

newly laid gravel base turned into a soggy porridge that completely messed up our bikes. The hotel

staff would kindly clean them for us each night. They would be spotless when we collected them in

the mornings and a few extra Dong would be added to the bill.

Every war produces its share of atrocities often perpetrated by all sides, as reprisals

and revenge attacks degenerate into bloody massacres. Quang Ngai is a town on Highway 1 where

we had a one night stop in a smart newly built hotel. Seven miles to the east, along a quiet country

lane towards the coast, is the small village of Mai Lai. In April 1968 this village was surrounded by

a platoon of American Marines searching for Viet Cong infiltrators. During that terrible day the

Marines systematically tortured, raped and murdered the inhabitants of the village. Men, women,

children and babies were massacred and their bodies were left piled high in a ditch. It was one of

many atrocities committed in that war, by both sides. However because of its enormity, news of

this one leaked out and it became a major media story throughout the world. Today the village has

a memorial, engraved stones and wooden plaques mark the spots where the houses stood and the

families died. Lieutenant Calley the man in command, was later court marshalled and sentenced to

life imprisonment for twenty two murders. He appealed against the conviction and was held under

house arrest. Three years later after the intervention of President Nixon he was allowed to go free.

It was such a very sad place to visit, we walked slowly around the site, sometimes it's difficult to

comprehend how or why these things happen. We returned on our bikes with our thoughts, to the

main Highway 1 in the rain.

The Mai Lai memorials

An incident occurred as we were riding away from the Town of Quy Nhon one

morning that was to trouble us all for the next three days. Since an accident in Poland whenever

possible we have avoided riding in groups. Firstly because it can cause accidents and secondly we

like to ride at our own leisurely pace. The two of us were riding together when two teenage boys

came alongside on a motorbike. They ask all the usual obvious questions," Where do you come

from? What is your name? How far are you going?" They never caused us too much bother but we

did feel slightly threatened by their presence and were pleased when they rode off.

Another couple Roger and Elizabeth who were about the same age as us. Left the

hotel sometime later and were approached by the motorbike in the same spot. This time the boys

were a bit more aggressive. The rear pillion passenger reached out to pull the bags on Rogers bike.

His actions caused Roger to wobble and then collide with an elderly lady who was walking along

the roadside, he fell off the bike onto the lady injuring his arm. As well as receiving cuts and

bruises, the lady suffered a much more serious head injury and was concussed. The two boys on

the motor bike rode off immediately. Malcolm a third member of our party to witness what had

taken place, also stopped at the scene. The lady was taken to hospital, shortly after the police

arrived Roger and Elizabeth were taken to the police station. Malcolm rode on to inform the rest of

our group, who were already miles in front what had taken place.

Roger and his wife were questioned about the accident and kept at the station all day.

The police refused to believe the story of the motorbike boys. Insisting that Roger had been riding

his fast western style racing bike in a careless and dangerous manner. Thus making him the prime

cause of the accident. A demand was made by the police for a payment of 1,000 American Dollars

to pay for the ladies hospital treatment. Believing that the lady would not have been the only

beneficiary of such a large amount of money. This demand was flatly refused. Towards evening

they were allowed to return to the hotel where we had all stayed on the previous night. Passports

and Visa’s were taken from them and retained by the police, who told them that they would visit

them at the hotel the next morning.

Malcolm never made contact with the rest of the party until he reached the hotel that

had been booked for the night at Tuy Hoa. Maurice Wilkins a very competent tour leader

immediately informed the British Consul in Hanoi. The Consul official had words with the police

officer in charge of the case at Quy Nhon. Following that intervention and after a much reduced

payment of $75 for the ladies medical expenses. The couple had their travel documents returned

and were allowed to go on their way. It was fortunate that the railway follows the highway along

the east coast. Roger and Elizabeth were able to board a train and catch up with the rest of the

tour at Ninh Chu three days after the incident occurred.

A strong sense of relief existed amongst our group of cyclists as we left Ninh Chu the

following morning. Roger and Elizabeth has survived their stressful ordeal without any visible

signs of trauma. After rejoining Highway 1 and riding for a short distance, it was time to turn right

and take a shorter route towards Ho Chi Minh City along Highway 20.There is always a price to

pay, the route may have been shorter but it was also very mountainous. We climbed all day to

Dalat where there was a rest day to take in the City sights. One more days cycling was needed to

reach Boaloc a town 80 miles from Ho Chi Minh City. At Dan Giay 40 miles from the Southern

Capital the road becomes too congested to cycle in safety. There a coach was waiting to take the

party and bikes the remainder of the way into the city centre.

Working on the Perfume River.

It was four days before we were due to fly home so there was ample time to look

around this bustling city that appeared to be more commercially prosperous than Hanoi in the

north. The Palace of Unification is a tourist attraction that must not to be missed. During the

previous American backed regime is was called The Palace of Independence and used as the

Presidents residence. Another coach excursion was made to the southern tip of the country, to take

a boat ride around the waterways of the Mekong Delta. Without doubt the most fascinating day,

was a tour of Cu Chi tunnels and dugouts that were used by the Viet Cong during the War. In an

attempt to destroy them, the American Air Force carpet-bombed this area north of Saigon on

numerous occasions. The bombing did not succeed because the tunnels had been dug to deep.

When the infantry went in the Viet Cong soldiers could disappear and hide with ease. The

American soldiers who were built much larger were unable to squeeze into the narrow tunnels to

find them.

That day brought to an end our Vietnam adventure, we had cycled 700 miles from

north to south. It had been a very eventful three weeks in a country full of amazing sights and

historical interest. Well worth our efforts.