Ryan grabs breakfast without me, so I head up to the hostels free breakfast alone. I see one of the guys from our tour, so I join him. He is a young Ukrainian who grew up in Israel. He tells me he hits all the movie theaters when he travels, so we bond immediately. I mention we are going to the Crazy House, so he offers to join us.
Crazier Than The Crazy House
We decide to make the short fifteen minute walk to the famous Crazy House in Dalat instead of riding there. Kostya shows us a cheap spot to grab pizza and other things and we continue to the house. As we are all walking, we hear a cracking noise from the street and come to a stop in unison. A taxi van goes spinning into a concrete pole and bounces off of it back into the street as three bikes burst into plastic pieces and their riders go flying. This is not the first accident I have been feet from in my life and Kostya had just finished his Israeli military time, so the drill is pretty basic. Call for medical help and make sure no one moves anyone involved in the accident. This is easy if you know the emergency contact number and all of the people involved speak your language. Kostya tries to tell them not to move any of the people, but the crowd of Vietnamese ignore the English. We make sure no one needs help that we could provide and continue walking. The Vietnamese rarity of wearing a full helmet is on full display as we see some of the resulting aftermath of the accident. Talking to our hostel owner later, we find out that another car had been driven by someone high from marijuana and swerved into the wrong lane, causing the bikers to swerve in front of the van and causing the chaos. We also found out that high drivers have caused several traffic deaths in the past few months at red lights. Luckily, this post will go out once we are done riding in Vie
We arrive at the Crazy House, made by the designer of the Maze Bar. The Vietnamese woman who created it traveled to Russia to learn about architecture and came back to design these crazy maze like buildings. This one is a hotel and rooms are spread out throughout the maze. The price is a bit exorbitant but it is only two dollars to walk through, so we check it out.
On the way back, we hit the pizza place and smash a ton of delicious food for the lowest prices we have seen in Dalat. Kostya and I hit the gym after and I am joyful to be sore. The three of us decide to hit a gaming cafe for a few hours since we are tired and pay twenty cents an hour to game. Life is good.
The Silver Lining
Our plan for the day is to eat breakfast, check out and take off to the coast at La Gi. We eat and check out. My bike refuses to start. The mechanic is about fifty meters from the hostel, so I walk it over. They unscrew the side plate and show me that the fuel valve is shut off and chastize me for it. I acknowledge that it was closed, but I don’t have a screwdriver and only rode the bike the fifty meters to the hostel, so I don’t know how that happened. We load up our bags and take off. A few minutes later, in the middle of an intersection, my bike dies again. I thank a higher power for powerful legs and push my way out of the intersection. Ignoring my current state of rage and still without a screwdriver, I pull the side plate open enough for my hand to squeeze through. I reach in, flip the fuel valve and pull my now bleeding hand out. I start the bike back up and take off back to the mechanic. It dies again in the middle of a busy roundabout. More cuts on my fingers, we arrive at the mechanic.
Conversing in a language you don’t speak is hard, but hand signals cover most of the things you say in basic interactions. Most things are universal. Google Translate does a decent job of covering things harder than that. Conveying complex thought is unfortunately still not easy. Trying to explain that this never happened before they touched my bike and now when I am riding it dies and I have to flip the fuel valve is not the easiest thing I have ever done. I regret not spending more time playing charades. Finally they get the idea and I ask them to fix what they broke. They explain that the fuel valve “has wear and tear” and wire the fuel valve open. Wiring things does not make me the most comfortable. I demand a screwdriver and we head off.
Ryan and I decide not to risk it and hit another mechanic to have it fixed correctly. I hit a Yamaha dealership and they tell me that the bike is too old for them to service. I just ask them to look, as that is a basic part of a bike. The mechanic sees the wire, laughs and immediately shuts the bike. They point me to another mechanic. I call Mr.Phung in Hanoi and have him talk to the mechanic who tells him that he is too busy. We hit four more mechanics, who are all either too busy or just wave me off without talking at all. At this point, my frustration is to the point where I just want to sell the bike on the spot and take a bus to Saigon. We stop and get some pizza and I do some research.
Mr.Phung says it should be good to ride, and worst case, my bike just dies and I just stay conscious not to aggressive pass anyone in case it dies out. I open the bike and secure the wiring job the young mechanics had done. They have a lot of experience, but I am sure a physics lesson would do them some good. We have burned a few hours now and won’t make the full ride, but we can at least knock out the two hours of horrible highway driving.
We ride for an hour and I stop to check the valve, it is slightly shut. I look and it has been wired to the air intake, which is not bolted into the bike and is just bouncing around. I contact Mr.Phung and he explains that that is fine and you could ride without an air intake. I explain that since it is wired to the valve, it would be better if it couldn’t move since the tension is what is keeping the valve open. He agrees to explain to a mechanic when we find one.
We finish another hour of riding and hit the town we will be staying in. I hit a mechanic and show him what I want done. He laughs and says it is okay, because he knows that it doesn’t matter if it bounces around. Then he points at the wires and shakes his head no. At this point, I’d just prefer a socket so I could do it myself but that doesn’t work. The next part is the most confusing and happened with a few mechanics earlier in Dalat. I called Mr.Phung and tried to hand the mechanic the phone. He repeatedly stared at the screen in confusion while I motioned to him for him to put it up to his ear while saying “Vietnamese” in Vietnamese. He hit the end call button and handed me back the phone, as if Vietnamese mechanics are scared to talk on the phone. I have Mr.Phung message me the sentence to show them and we head off.
We find another mechanic and show them the sentence. They immediately start unscrewing the air intake. The message must not have fully conveyed what needed to be done so I start showing them. They grab some wire (they all love wire) and secure part of air intake that had cracked, allowing it to be secured to the bike correctly. We ride down the street and find some dinner and a hotel.
Clear Mind, Happy Thoughts
The bike broke down one more time, but this time I had been expecting it. It died the same way it had been dying before, but now I knew the immediate solution. The bike was back up and running in a minute. So either the fuel line was dirty and the dirt was just barely keeping the fuel valve open or it wasn’t fully broken yet and closing it to clean the lines finally killed the valve. Now I knew the issue, we had eight hours left of riding total and I didn’t have to worry about if my bike would die for good. With this, I would be able to sell the bike to another backpacker with a clear conscience, which only made me sad because I knew a mechanic wouldn’t give me anything for it, so I was just going to push it into the ocean, because I thought that experience would be worth more to me than whatever a mechanic would give me. We head off through the mountains and the ride is smooth. Winding up and down mountainous curves is again fun with my bike working and we are surrounded by beautiful views.
Two hours of mountains and we hit rows of dragonfruit trees and salt fields. We hit a cool suspension bridge and take off down the road. A short ride and we hit Coco Beach Camp, a beach bar where they have camp sites for travelers. One more hour and we hit Ho Tram Beach.
Part of Ho Tram each is covered in MGM Grand and Ramada, an attempt to make a mini Vegas strip. We find a hotel and head to the beach to pepper. The sand is nice but the sun goes down too fast and we end up peppering in front of a restaurant to use their light. We hit some restaurants where they stare at us like zoo animals before finding a small one. The waiter walks over with Google Translate out, the first time this has happened in the three weeks we have been in Vietnam. He takes our order and takes off on his motorbike to get ingredients. We tip him for the extra work and head home.
Goodbye, Old Friend
We have a three hour ride to Saigon, our last destination of the trip. I have been growing a beard since the trip started, and decided I have had enough. I pull my bike into a little patch of woods and trim the beard down to my usual scruff. Two hours of riding and we hit the chaos that comes with the Cat Lai Ferry. The usual route people take is to hit the highway into Saigon, but we decide to make like locals and take a ferry across the river into the city. As we enter the city, we see what looks like a Vietnamese Chicago, not what either of us were expecting.
We had originally planned on selling our bikes for what we paid for them and then throwing in the nice helmets for free. Looking through the actual market for people selling their bikes, this looks like it would require some work on our part, which is why we gave ourselves a few days. I weigh the pros and cons of getting that extra money, and decide I would rather sell the bike for cheaper and get rid of it immediately. We post the bikes for forty percent less than we paid and throw in the helmet for free. Within a few hours, we have buyers. We wake up, take the bikes for an oil change and run the girls buying the bikes through everything with the bikes. My disdain for the bike has faded and I am sad to see it go. It broke down a lot, but it took me over fifteen hundred miles. We say goodbye and hit some sights.
The sights in Saigon are your normal toursit sites, besides the Ho Chi Minh War Museum. That thing where I said Vietnam was the first time I have felt awkward about being American? It got a whole lot worse in this museum. The museum is surrounded by US Military vehicles and the outside has a replication of the prison conditions the Vietnamese were kept it. The first floor is dedicated to other countries protesting America being in Vietnam. The second floor contained weapons and tactics used by Americans. Third was the facts and effects of Agent Orange and the fourth was just a floor of statistics. I would say my intelligence served me well and I learned a lot in school, having a good memory of most of the things that I was taught. Most of the things I learned in the museum, I definitely did not learn in American schools (and I was also conscious that there is a high chance of bias from both sides). A quick chat with my Dad about it, and I decide that is enough history for one day.
I head down the street from my hostel to a gym labeled “MMA Gym” with a rock climbing wall up the outside. I walk in, receiving the normal zoo animal stare. The day price is three American dollars and the gym is five floors of rock climbing walls, ninja warrior obstacles, heavy bags, and standard weight room equipment. My dream gym with a top balcony overlooking the city. A workout with no fans or air conditioning and I hit the hostel to shower.
Wanting to be more presentable for our volleyball camp, I hit up a place to get a back wax, my first professional one ever. It went well before I realized the hostel room’s air conditioning was broken and I would spend all night sweating. I woke up with my back completely broken out. The price of vanity is steep. I book a hotel room closer to the airport and spend the day watching movies in air conditioning before heading to a gaming cafe for a bit.
Our last day in Vietnam, but I am still caring for my back. Grabbed some breakfast and wrote this blog post(meta) while watching some Netflix. New content is released for Apex Legends, so Ryan and I plan to hit a gaming cafe and play that for a good amount of the day, since neither of us will be playing for the next few weeks.
Next, we will make our way back to Koh Phangan for the training camp and to meet up with Aaron. We will relax on the island before Ryan heads home and I head to India!