The bikes, dood, the bikes! YeGods! We knew we weren’t the only ones who thought doing the Ha Giang loop would be a great way to spend a few days, but we never imagined…
They were everywhere. Hundreds of the bleeders. We got to the first viewpoint on today’s route, and we couldn’t get near it. Millennials and their Vietnamese riders. Unreal. We’ve seen tourist overload before, but this was on a whole new level.
And if it was bad at the viewpoints, it was worse on the road. There we’d be, pootling along minding our own and admiring the scenery, and another pack would appear – a dozen or more, zhooff, zhooff, zhooff, zhooffzhooffzhooff, zhooff, zhooff, zhooffzhooffzhooffzhooffzhooff, zhooff, zhooff. And then five minutes later, another 15 coming in the opposite direction. Madness! And unrelenting. Just about the only thing making it all bearable was the immense feeling of superiority: all these young rebels pillioning around while we old timers DIY’d it.
And then we lost them, and everything improved immeasurably. We went somewhere interesting and beautiful, and quiet: the Hmong King’s Palace. The Hmongs being one of the many ethnic groups in this area. The palace, so called, was a simple and modest construction of white walls and wood, most unpalatial, but with a quiet dignity, a warm, human, feel, and a pervasive smell of old timber seasoned with wood smoke. Everything was a bit random, a bit dusty, a bit worn, and we loved it all.
Sanity restored, we continued our journey towards Dong Van, pulling over every now and then for a particularly stunning bit of scenery or to watch the people working on the slopes. They were easy to spot, because they really do dress in the most gorgeous, exuberant clothing, all rich greens and blues, purples, oranges and reds, whether they’re working the slopes or carrying great loads of firewood strapped to their backs along the side of the road.
Before too long we reached Dong Van, found a nice room for the night, and decided we would after all take the little side-trip up to Lung Cu – a watchtower on the Chinese border, which means you’ll always be able to say you’ve seen China, even if you haven’t actually been. Turned out it wasn’t quite as little as it looked on the map – the best part of an hour’s serious hairpinning each way – and we missed a turning on the way back just for a bonus – but it was well worth the ride.
