Spluttering inland

Would you hold it in, or use these 'toilets?'  There comes a point when ya can't hold it any more on a jittery motorbike, so I fumbly managed to arrange myself (or as the French may say, 'install myself') to get the job sorted.

If you have any tips for toileting in Asia, we'd be super grateful.  One tip we've already picked up is to have tissues and sanitiser at the ready.  The locals use all forms of paper, note paper, shopping lists, magazine pages to wipe their delicates.  It was news to me, and almost unbelievable, but the photo below is proof. 

After lazing under Mûi Ne's delightfully hot sun, the journey north along the coast was spectacular ... vast ocean views one side, terracotta-orange sand dunes the other side, and the cool sea breeze.

We pulled into a remote roadside tin-roofed cafe (more of a lean-to on the side of a house), that had little piles of dusty chip packets  as well as drinks stored in a chest freezer.  Lying in hammocks, drinking a lemonade and a Vietnamese iced coffee (to be discussed on another post!), and escaping the heat felt great.  There might be lots of helmet hair photos coming up!

Next to our bikes another local bike had parked up.  Irony galore - he also travelled the same rickety roads, had his load bungy-corded on the back, and was getting about his day.  Same as us.  It speaks of how resourceful people can be, his bike was probably ripe for the rubbish pile a few decades ago, yet he's still patching it up and it's useful to him.  The irony is that even with our newly serviced bikes and flash gear, our local mate would end up further down the road on his number eight wire steed.  The average Vietnamese income is 150 US dollars a month.  I was about to type that just the clothes on my body were probably worth more than that, then I realised that my pounamu alone was more than a month's Vietnamese salary.  (Not to show off, but it is a mighty fine pounamu!)

Riding through the paddocks of rice, dragon fruit, and lush green crops allowed us to breathe real air again.  Green surrounded us as we left the flat plains of the lowlands, and started spluttering inland. In all fairness, our bikes are loaded to the gunnels, and we were heading up 10% inclines at some spots.  

Blandy fashioned herself the new suncho, kinda like a poncho, but to keep the sun off her already sun-kissed shoulders.  Worked a treat, we might sell them via TradeMe!

The mountainous inland route was often less actual road and more a series of pits and craters, with the occasional buffalo herd thrown in for good measure. We were accompanied for one short leg by a small hairy black pig who thought it was a race. We weren't exactly hoofing it, uphil in first gear, but we still thrashed him over the finish line like a pair of proper champions.

Hills of green, fields of corn, cucumber gardens, passion fruit crops and coffee plantations kept the air sweet as we motored along.  The air cooled the higher we went, bringing with it the threat of rain.  We popped rubbish bag raincoats onto our packs and we made it into Da Lat before the grey clouds emptied their contents over the whole region.  Da Lat reminded me of Geneva as we rode in. Lake front, rows of patriotic flags, flowers everywhere.  The French had started this town as the resort of French Indochina back in the day, so there is a heavy European influence in architecture, layout and style. The cooler climate also gives it a different feel, we need to remind ourselves we're still in Nam sometimes! Definitely worth the six hour sore bum ride we experienced on our way here!  The markets are buzzing, activity is inescapable.

This street vendor sells from her little stove near the steps to the main market. Vietnamese pizza is made on barbecued rice paper, topped with chilli, green onions, egg and onion.  When she's done, she'll take her little restaurant somewhere else, and entice others to her fare.