Hell-holes on the highway

Sometimes the distances between nice places are too long to expect a 6-year-old to pedal, so an overnight stop has to be made in a random location. Last night this place was a particularly yukky motel on Vietnam’s outrageously noisy and unappealing highway 1. Just before arriving there was a gruesome dog-barbecue stand that left me haunted with an unforgettable sight… The entrance to our lodgings was flanked by concrete dinosaurs and the gatehouse was guarded by a ferocious madam with tattooed eyebrows and a weight-lifting bench. Without her protection we might have felt threatened by her ineffectual but deeply creepy husband. We were given the VIP suite at a competitive rate with a view of the muddy mosquito farm around which the dirty rooms were arranged. After a dinner of biscuits and fish-shaped crackers we settled down to  slumber to the lullaby of hooting and roaring vehicles. The kids thought it was great, Aran was entertained watching cartoons while Zev laughed his head off at his game of covering Aran’s head in ripped up toilet paper.

This rather crap day was given meaning when we arrived today at an idyllic guesthouse run by a truly lovely couple on the river in the city of Can Tho, and it was all the more enjoyable after the 48 hours we spent getting here. We were made at home and the owner made a great fuss of the kids and made us pick coconuts and open them with his machete, which was immensely enjoyable… We were then prepared a delicious home cooked meal and plied with shots of some kind of Vietnamese moonshine

Sometimes this travelling thing only makes sense once the days are all looked at together. The contrasts of the days really give extra value to the experiences.

Now I’m in a hammock while the kids snooze in their mosquito nets and old highway 1 feels like another world. It’s only been 8 days on the bikes, but it feels like a lot more thanks to all those sights and sounds and smells, both disgusting and marvelous!