Lake BaBe was really nice and peaceful. Another location where I inadvertently took a vow of silence due to my inability to communicate to any other humans in the area. A local dog looked after me and accepted me into his pack. He would accompany me on walks and sit by my feet while I wrote and relaxed on the porch. He wasn’t too interested in my scraps either, not sure what he ate, but it wasn’t table food.
The family was nice but I think were more confused by me than I was them. The dad didn’t talk much and scowled at me when I elected for a coke over a beer. I don’t think he liked me much after that. I definitely stayed longer than expected and was funny to hear “why are you still here?” while attempting to be polite and communicating in their non-native tongue.
Wasn’t much happening in the village but observing the characters plowing the fields planting rice shoots which made for an excellent sitcom. Sometimes the farmer would be too busy with the tractor and wouldn’t notice the ducks getting loose from their pen. Other times a water buffalo might sneak up behind a woman planting the rice and feast on her hard work. To say it was lit would be an understatement.
As peaceful as it was, I would have taken a pots and pans wake up call over the sounds of pigs being slaughtered for the day. They sound strangely human and is uncomfortably frequent.
I’m still not a veggie but I’ve opted for veg meals from time and again after my time here.
Home stays are always an interesting dynamic. You’re a paying guest, but you’re also a guest of the family, but you’re not, and coupled with a language barrier, it can be difficult. There are boundaries that need to be laid and frequently are not. Sometimes they are advertised as restaurants but with a fixed menu and meal times, they are nothing like a restaurant.
I was invited to eat with the family on the last night of my stay opposed to by myself. I think they forgot I was still there and didn’t have time to fix a foreigner meal for me. We sat around a small table and enjoyed a spread of various foods, most of which I hadn’t seen yet. We video chatted their daughter who lives with her husbands family and ate together through the screen of the phone. I learned during that meal to ask what I was eating only after finishing dinner to avoid losing appetite. What I thought were little fried chicken wings were the noisy toads from the night before and the beef jerky was sliced pig eyes. Wasn’t a huge fan of the pig but the frogs weren’t bad.
When packing up I realized it was my last big day of riding for this trip. 6 hours to Hanoi and that was it, over. It was a nice day and made sure to stop and enjoy the scenery. While I wanted to keep riding I felt confident that I covered as much as I could. I am happy with the progress and the ground covered.
Originally I planned out 5,000 KM across Vietnam, Cambodia, and Laos. After 77 days on the road, 7 oil changes, 2 border crossings, 1 failed border crossing, 4 Police stops, 1 attempted robbery, 183 liters of gas, 1 flat tire, 2 countries, 3 drops, and 7,043KM I had arrived in Hanoi at the end of this leg of the journey.
Arriving in Hanoi about a week before my departure allowed me time to sell the bike and get organized. The week in Hanoi was awesome. Randomly ran into a hodgepodge group of great folks I had met previously throughout the past three months and we had a blast gallivanting around the city.
Activities included paint balling, VR video games, arcades, zorb soccer, cake fights, eating Bahn Mi, and running red lights in formation. It was so much fun and so many great memories. I’ll miss that group. It was the first time since Thailand where I was with a group of people who were comfortable, friendly, and kind for an extended amount of time. We all cared about each other and it was difficult to say goodbye. I’ve started to appreciate hard good-byes, it means they were special and are worth the subsequent feelings of sadness.
The two stressful events of the week were the organization of the next leg of the trip and selling the bike. Selling the bike took a bit longer than expected but ended well. The next leg of the trip required a serious pivot. Long story short, I am not going to the Iran. Pretty devastated about that one but shit happens and I guess it wasn’t meant to be.
The entire year long path around the world was built around those two weeks in Iran. To watch them incinerate was an event I didn’t think was in the realm of possibility. I planned too well to allow any risk but I guess not well enough. The process to make that trip happen could be part of a movie. I enjoyed the process, the planning, and research but lost it on the one-yard line. While my mom and friends are relieved the trip is dead, that was a bucket list event for me.
I was left with a decision to make; where the hell do I go now? Not that I was over Vietnam but I had mentally prepared for a new adventure. I am a bit sick of rice and I felt Vietnam was complete, I have no regrets on how I spent my time in Vietnam or this side of the world in general. Laos would have been nice but Northern Vietnam was remarkable and left a lifelong impression.
It was time go and in-reality I only had to kill two weeks. So I looked at my budget and decided on a new course of action. With my credit card in hand I ordered a ton of new motorcycle parts and a one-way ticket back to Denver. I remember when I started and considered coming home before a year to be a failure. How times have changed.
There were times while riding I thought about South America and how travel will be different. I love riding motorcycles. I did not want to go back to bus travel. So I decided to go back to Denver and spend a month modifying the bike I already own and ride it as far south as possible. Patagonia and the end of the Americas continent is the new goal.
It’s a long way with a lot more variables. Round trip from Denver to the tip of Argentina is ~25,000 miles. That’s LA to NYC and back to LA three times plus some. Assuming everything goes well, I will start south at the beginning of May.
After 5 months on the road I am happy to return to Denver. It feels like the end of a school year. Happy/sad/nostalgic, the school year is over but looking forward to summer break all while being happy/scared/anxious for the upcoming adventures that a new school year will bring.
- Joe