The hills were gradually getting steeper, although we were still mostly riding down. Often a climb or descent would carry a signpost showing a gradient symbol labeled with "10%" - and only ever 10%, regardless of how steep the road seemed to be. I'm not sure the average non-English speaking Vietnamese person would even know what 10% meant, and we started to think that they only had one kind of sign, until much later in the trip we rode past a couple that said 12% (which we took to mean that the hill must be exceptionally steep)("oh no - look a 12% sign...").
We were tearing down one very long and enjoyable descent when Ryan decided to demonstrate how worn down the tread was on our bike tyres. I almost lost control coming round one steep, off-camber, slippery corner, only to hear Ryan skidding out behind me - in full view of half a dozen local people working on the roadside. Luckily, the road was so slippery that he managed to slide along without taking any skin off. We both rode a little more cautiously after that...
Along the way we stopped at a small ceremony being held at the roadside. Apparently there was someone ill in the adjacent hut, and the medicine man (don't know exactly what he was called - shaman???) was conducting a ritual to induce the person's erstwhile spirit to come back into their body. He had constructed a bridge for the spirit to cross and had part of a large pig sacrificed next to him on a small table. As we were standing there, a couple of villagers brought up the pig's head suspended on a bamboo pole between them. The men who brought the pig's head were fascinated by our bikes - particularly Ryan's. We saw plenty of bikes being ridden by villagers - these all had skinny tires and one gear. It therefore became common for our bikes (mountain bikes with front suspension, knobbly tires and multiple gears) to be viewed with much curiosity. It was also a favourite for the locals to try and sit on Ryan's seat - most would end up only being able to perch on the top tube and even then only just being able to reach the pedals.
More and more people stopping to see our crazy Westerner bikes
We stopped mid-morning in one small town for a coffee break. Here I had my first real Vietnamese coffee - with water dripped through a percolater perched on top of a glass of condensed milk. The ratio of milk to coffee was about 1:3 - it was incredibly strong, thick and sweet. In fact, it was almost undrinkable. But it definitely had a kick.
Our guide offered to take us along a slightly longer back road rather than continuing along the main road, and we were all eager to give it a try. The first few kilometres, though, were rough cobblestones - none of us were sure we would be able to manage rattling over 25km of the stuff. Fortunately, the cobblestones soon ended. Unfortunately, the road became very muddy and chopped up. But fortunately the local scooters, by all riding the same path, had made a narrow, compacted ribbon of track through all the ruts. And this was heaps of fun to ride (still downhill). The road took us through some isolated villages surrounded by tea plantations, and turned out to be one of the highlights of the trip.
Cobblestones
Tea plantation
Lunch is worth mentioning because one of the dishes we consumed was fermented pork. The fact that it was eaten with fig leaves (which our guide said were a good preventer of diarrhoea) maybe should have given us some forewarning for what was to come...
There is a scooter under there somewhere
After lunch, we continued along the main road beside the river. The riding was flat and fast. I had a very close call with a buffalo's rear end at one point, after a handful of buffalo cut in front of a truck and caused a sudden traffic jam. We were trying to ride through the mess without getting hit by either when one buffalo came to a sudden halt directly in front of me. I don't think I will need to get any closer to a buffalo's bum in my life. Ever.
Our accomodation for the night was a homestay in a local village. This was in a traditional stilted house. Upstairs, the house was one large room which had curtained-off alcoves all around the edge containing mattresses. Our guide and driver had been sharing rooms up until this point - it was funny to see the guide position himself across the room as far away from the driver as humanly possible in an attempt to escape his snoring :-) The Vietnamese family slept in a separate house next door. Our host cooked a meal for us which ended with slices of the most (apparently) delicious orange Ryan had ever tasted. In fact, I think this orange remains the highlight of his entire trip (and I'm not just talking about food...)
Our homestay
Wandering through the village
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