Today as with many of the remaining days of the trip, I rode mostly by myself.
Communist Monument
Surf at a Beach North of a Small Mountain Pass Along the Coast (near Minh Duc).
The View North Along the Beach.
The Tunnel Under Ngang Pass.
Fishing Boats.
UNESCO-Funded Water Towers.
Entering a Town Along Highway 1A.
New Highway Overpass.
I stopped at the beach in Dong Hoi (of course!) and sat on the sand dunes. The affects of the typhoon were still apparent. Because they didn't have many hotels on the beach where I took these photos, the damage didn't seem so bad.
Surf at Dong Hoi. Brown, but not Bad.
As I was sitting on the beach eating some cookies, an older man came up to me. You can't sit in one place in Vietnam for long before someone comes and joins you. I told him that I was riding my bicycle through Vietnam. I had a really hard time understanding what he was telling me. I think he may have had a better time understanding what I was saying. He eventually left me and walked towards the surf where a person was working.
After he left, I realized what he was telling me: the typhoon had also been through Dong Hoi and he was collecting drift wood on the beach with his wife (or female companion). The old man walked to the woman, pointed at me and started to tell her something. He may have told her that I was travelling throughout Vietnam by bike. He may have told her that I was from Mars. In either case, she just shook her head and told the old man to get back to work. As I left the beach, I saw him drag a tremendous bundle of wood over the sand dunes to his bike.
A couple stopped me as I left the beach. They indicated that I should follow the muddy path towards some buildings if I wanted to return to the center of town. Although this path was not the most direct, it did give me a brief glimpse into life in Vietnam (without everyone yelling "hello, hello, hello"). As I turned towards my destination I passed houses where the TV was on, dinner was being cooked, and the family was going about their evening routine. I passed a bunch of kids with their slingshots at ready while they harrased the village idiot or a drunkard.
Terry and I arrived in Dong Hoi at about the same time, but since we had ridden separately throughout the day and we hadn't made plans to meet somewhere, we couldn't find each other. Fortunately, I had his cell phone number. I found a hotel that would let me use their phone, I called Terry, and we arranged a meeting and found a hotel for the night just south of an ancient fortress wall.
Quang Binh Quan. Part of an Ancient Fortress Wall.
10 Times a Day...
...I fell in love. Riding on the main highway through Vietnam, I saw all types of people. And they saw me too. When I would come riding into a town, everyone would turn stare and most would say hello (and "hello" and "hello" and "hello" and then one more time for good measure, "hello") and some other things that I can't translate (or even understand).
Because I passed so many people during a typical day, I passed at least ten slim attractive women smiling and saying hello. Many were wearing nice outfits (a.k.a, hip hugging jeans and 4-inch heels, even on a motorbike or buying vegetables from the Market. Sometimes while working in the field.) Being a stranger in a strange land; being tired, muddy, slightly irritated by the culture shock, and weather, I wished for friendly people. Seeing these women, my heart skipped a beat.
Marry My Daughter?
In addition to falling in "love," there was another "love"-related problem: marriage! I was offered a woman's hand in marriage many days in Vietnam. This typically happened at the hotels at which we stayed, the shops at which we stopped for food and water, or at the restaurants.
On today's ride, I stopped at a restaurant when I was thoroughly tired and hungry. There were three couples eating at this small restaurant/house. Two of the couples were sitting at the same table. They were a group of friends. At the other table was a attractive sexily-dressed woman with an unattractive man. Maybe the woman was a something else. I wouldn't know, I'm not familiar with the cultural conventions when it comes to Vietnamese dress. The table with the two couples seemed to be saying bad things about the beautiful woman and ugly man.
In the meantime, I had orderd food and tried to explain that I was vegetarian ("an chay"). The table with two-couples came over to help and look at the stranger with a bike. We clowned around for a while. I tried to speak Vietnamese. They tried to speak English. I ate. We took some pictures.
The following photo shows some of my eating companions for lunch. The woman just out of the frame is the restaurant owner's daughter. Of course, someone, as usual offered her hand in marriage (that would be the woman in the center of the frame). But, my Vietnamese is not very good.
No, I Don't Need Desert.
Random offers of marriage are one thing, but meeting a hotel receptionist this day was quite another thing. I thought I was really in love this time, but alas, nothing came of it.
The receptionist was wearing a white áo dài (a traditional tunic slit down the sides and worn over pants). Because I always look at the hotel rooms before selecting a room, I followed her up the stairs as we went to look at the first room. Where the slit came together above her pants, I could see some skin. Gulp! She showed me the first room. It was acceptable. My heart was aflutter. I was having a hard time focusing.
I came back downstairs, told Terry that the room would work, and Terry and I took our stuff upstairs. I went slowly, trying to get an opportunity to spend more time with the receptionist. At one point, we were standing together talking (as best as we could). She was making this shy coy circle with her foot. I blushed. It must have been my imagination. I sprinted up the stairs to my room and later I heard her walk by our room singing a viet pop tune.
Our Hotel - The Song Son.
Our Hotel Was Behind The Building with the Nokia Sign.
Surf at Kilometer 637.
Hong Nhung 2 - Good Food. Nice Service. Everything you would want from a Vietnamese restaurant: rice (co'm), dumplings (bun), and noodle soup (pho). The owner's youngest son thoroughly enjoyed himself as he ran around taking orders, hamming it up, and serving guests.
Day 51 - Thieh Cam to Dong Hoi - 150 Kilometers
