The FINAL leg....

The last 10km of road in Cambodia to the border with Vietnam was terrible. It was unsealed, bumpy, potholey, hot and dusty, a taste of what all Cambodian roads were probably like 5-10 years ago. It was hard going on the bikes and our heads. At the end, in a dirty, dusty, non descript Cambodian border town, we had a meal that came out of the kitchen with a halo of deliciousness steaming from atop of a pile of stir fried vegetables. The best meal I had had in Cambodia served with steamed rice and a smile. A half an hour later we were through immigration and in Vietnam.

It got a whole lot worse than this

Our ride from theborder into Ho Chi Minh was not quite the Mekong Delta dreaming I had hoped for. The roads from town to town, whilst following the mighty river, were very busy and a far cry from the much quieter countryside roads of Cambodia. The towns were not quaint villages, they were more like small cities with concrete for miles and miles, noisy traffic and many people. And as Kit was really unwell with food poisoning, it became very important to get to our destination before the afternoon heat descended, so we were riding fast.

As we were making good time, we decided to go across to Phu Quoc Island for a few days of lazing about on beaches touted as a 'tropical island paradise'. Unfortunately for us, it literally rained from the minute we cycled the 15km from the ferry into the main town until the minute we strapped our two bicycles to the back of a scooter and made a mad dash to get the ferry back to the mainland. And when I say rain.....I mean rain like it was the wet season in Vietnam and we were on an island 2 hours off the mainland.

Sometimes you gotta have a little faith

From here we went to Can Tho. A great little riverside city where Travel Rule #1 was broken : Be wary of those that speak good English. Needless to say my error of judgement (I blame the long ride and the heat) resulted in another dismal attempt at an island experience, Vin Long Island. Whilst there was no rain this time, there was a pre-paid homestay that comprised of a wall less bamboo hut on stilts above a mosquito infested pond, with beds of canvas stretched over a bamboo frame. Hardly ideal sleeping conditions for someone still trying to regain energy after being ill. So we stayed for lunch. Jumped back on the bikes and made yet another mad dash to catch the last ferry in an attempt to reach My Tho by nightfall.

Our last photo on the road

Once over the river we began riding quickly as we were still quite a way off from our preferred destination. As we crossed the bridge leading into a town, before us was a beautiful rainbow. The rainbow was perfectly timed and we could see it from end to end. It felt symbolic, like a finishing line. And it was here as the late afternoon sun was beginning its descent that we got off the bikes and hitched a bus the remaining 20 or so kms into My Tho. This was to be our last day riding and whilst we were happy to have completed the journey we were also a little sad that it was ending.

Our finishing line

In Ho Chi Minh we lived it up like any other backpacker. We shopped in the markets, wrote postcards, ate Western food (we felt entitled to it after so many days only eating steamed rice and soya sauce), bought metres of fabric with dreams of sewing summer skirts and dresses, mingled with other foreigners, drank happy hour cocktails and felt sorry for all the poor mugs who were lugging around giant, over stuffed backpacks whilst thumbing through their Lonely Planet guidebooks looking for cheap hotels.

I know, I know....but I was so hungry for
something other than noodles

But amongst all that tourist normalcy, we still could not resist taking the bikes out to cruise the manic streets of Ho Chi Minh. More crush than cruise, it was totally insane and completely exhilarating. Whatever crazy roads we had been on throughout the rest of the trip were nothing compared to Ho Chi Minh. All the same rules (or lack thereof) apply, yet the intensity and number of vehicles multiplied by at least 10x. Crossing the roads on foot in that city gets the heart pumping so you can imagine how much the adrenaline kicked in trying to bicycle around a four lane round-about ...no such thing as slowing down and giving way to your right in this city. Still Kit believes that she felt safer on those roads than she does at times in Melbourne, as even though it seems like complete chaos it does all somehow work and there exists much greater bicycle awareness and far less aggression. Go figure.

This power pole not disimiliar to the chaos
on the streets of Ho Chi Minh

So after our venture out and survival on the mad streets of Ho Chi Minh we packed the bikes up ready for our journey back to Melbourne. Kit flew home four days before me and I headed further up north to see some countryside and the beach.

Boxes for our bikes cut to size

The ROADS in Vietnam

Allow me to attempt to describe to you the roads that we have been riding along here in Vietnam. I say attempt, as my skill with the pen/keyboard is very limited and I am extremely tired after an 85km ride today. As I sit and write, the traffic continues to whizz by. An endless stream of buses, trucks, cars, scooters, bikes, carts and people on foot. All tooting and jostling for space. I am definately far far from my home where passing 5 cars on my daily drive to work is a busy morning.

Picture this, we are on our bikes one ahead of the other, as close to the side of the road as possible. There is a sea of scooters to our left overtaking us and overtaking each other. Then there are the other bikes that are much slower than us that we have to overtake, plunging us into the path of the scooters. Then there are those pushing carts or on foot that the slow cyclists also have to overtake pushing us further into the centre of the road. Then there is the truck tooting its warning, telling us to move out of the way and generally there is another truck on the other side of the road trying the share the road that is only 1.5 lanes wide at best. If thats not enough there is always a mini van full of passengers trying to pass everyone.

But somehow that all seems to work. That is until the school kids are released from school at 9.30am and about every 300m for a couple of kms, about 200 kids on bicycles, all without helmets and carrying their plastic seats and generally two to a bike, all flock out onto the street. All chatting and not concentrating, they take up most of the road and are the most careless of the lot. That is generally when traffic comes to a standstill, if you are lucky. If not, it all keeps going and for about 500m they have added to the congestion ten fold.

We think we have worked out two rules to follow on the roads.

Rule #1 : Your right foot must always be kerbside. Which has taken quite a bit of getting used to. Often one of us has to yell out 'wrong side of the road' to the other.

Rule #2 : And this is the important one....There are no rules. Traffic lights are often ignored, giving way to oncoming traffic is often ignored, even riding on the right hand side of the road is often ignored (which actually came in handy for us when we took a one way over pass the wrong way). Night lights on bicylces are few. One man actually told Kit off and said the light was too bright in his eyes. Indicators are a novelty. Helmets are only compulsory for the scooter drivers, no need to worry about the baby that is sitting in the drivers lap. However much or however many you can load on to your mode of transport and keep it upright is okay. You only need to headcheck if you can be bothered and side mirrors are positioned for squeezing pimples whilst waiting at the side of the road.

Add to the mix copulating dogs, potholes, giant puddles, people in wheelchairs, food on tarps drying in the sun, rubbish, piles of coconut husks, drivers texting and talking on mobiles, sweethearts stopping on the bridge to look out over the water, chickens, elderly people trying to cross roads, children playing at the side of the road, young kids walking side by side casually chatting, people doing u-turns in cars, on bikes and scooters......the short of it is, it is just absolute madness.....

At the end of the ride you are just as mentally exhausted as you are physically. You can not take your eyes off the road for one second. Believe me, I did and it almost ended in a collision with an oncoming scooter. Not exactly the peaceful Mekong Delta experience I was dreaming of. We are riding along the Mekong but unfortunately it is on a main road between cities. But tomorrow we will veer off the main roads and hopefully we will experience river boats, rice farmers, fisherman and the quiter life of the river.....

The FAQ's

Tying the bikes in

Q : How quickly can 2 bikes be transferred from one station wagon to another without you knowing?
A : As quick as it takes me to say 'Kit, I will put your occy straps in my side pocket' and to look up again.

That is the driver second from the right

Q : How much can you fit into one small station wagon in Cambodia?
A : 2 girls, 2 bikes, 2 Cambodian toddlers, 5 Cambodian adults, 4 panniers, 1 driver and 1 gas tank

Q : Was there really an accounting university in Sihanoukville that went bankrupt?

A : Yes. The young Cambodian man was unable to look at the lighter side of his most unfortunate situation.

So this is our last night in Cambodia. We are in Kep, a seaside town where even the locals fear to swim. From Battambang we bused and taxied it to Kampot. The bus ride was interesting. The bikes were safely squashed in the luggage compartment. When Kit said 'that is not going to fit' the man just slammed the door shut with a 'can do' attitude. At least we knew they were not going to be moving around down there. Up on top, in the bus, Cambodian singing and slapstick was playing very loudly, keeping our fellow travellers very entertained whilst driving me crackers....I have a knack of always positioning myself right under the bus speakers.

Riding alongside the river in Kampot

Kampot was a nice riverside town and the roads leading into and out of Kampot were a real picture of rural Cambodian life. Today we rode about 40kms to Kep at a much slower pace than the previous days due to heat, fatigue from 12hrs on a bus yesterday and the fact that we have been living off noodle soup for the last 2 days.

The scenery between Kampot and Kep, Cambodia

Kep...ahhh well. Not such a flash way to end our time in Cambodia. But tomorrow we will be at a much nicer beach (hopefully) across the border in Vietnam.