We woke well before the alarm went off at 6, as we were surrounded by a cacophony of birds. I opened the tent flap to see a cluster of quails hopping around – soon dispersed as I came lumbering out. The ground was wet but we were dry and it was almost sunny.

Oh it had been so tempting to ask for a room at the lodge last night with it’s lovely lounge, wood burner and hot showers but as the only people in this huge campsite in the early morning it was quite magical. I had been exhausted last night but felt invigorated.

Our routine of packing up camp fell back into place, fitting in 2 cups of coffee and honey flavoured porridge mixed with last night’s crumble – delicious. We had our packs back at the lodge by 8, ready to be taken down to the end of the trail and we were on our bikes and on our way again.

The trail passed through the bush and amazing forest.  The only people to be seen were the handful of bikers who had also started the trail yesterday, leapfrogging each other as we rested at different places – although the ebikers eventually were way ahead of us.  We were in no hurry, wanting to savour the environment, especially as the sun came out.  They say there is something different about the blue of the sky and the green of the land in New Zealand and it certainly seemed that way.  Maybe it’s the lack of ozone – an odd quirk of the climate catastrophe. 

I am not a mountain biker but was really enjoying the off road cycling.  Sometimes the trail was a narrow weaving track and more often today, a wider trail following the tramway where the logs were hauled out of the forest. It must have been lucrative business to justify the engineering blasting cuttings through rock and another series of amazing bridges across deep chasms to rivers below.  The old wooden bridges are now replaced with modern suspension bridges.  Not a fan of heights I kept by eyes ahead and peddled across them with a fixed stare – allowing myself more leisurely looks when safely the other side.

There was less climbing today, and generally the route was less steep, but my legs were still tired from the previous day. At the 70km mark though we started a glorious gradual descent.  I was more confident on the mountain bike and felt I could let the bike go. The forest gradually opened out into a wider valley with the last few Kms through meadows of grass, foxgloves and yellow broom.

Back at the car, our packs had arrived and we were off to stay in Turangi an hour or so away to rest up before our next adventure.  I was totally exhausted and was in bed by 8 but a brilliant ride and fantastic introduction to the amazing outdoors offered in New Zealand.

It seems a very long time since I last tapped away at a keyboard after a day on the bike, recording our travels and trying to make sense of the world.  A small explainer – I was fit and well in March last year as we left Vietnam and by January this year I could not walk more than 200m without huge difficulty.  It seems as if – for reasons that are entirely mysterious –  the arteries in my heart clogged up and I was getting less and less blood flow around the body including to my head.  The wonderful cardiology team at Wolverhampton sorted me out with a quadruple bypass in late January. 

Then it was a period of slow recovery, and gradually getting my fitness back.  By the summer I was back to walking and climbing mountains and a week ago we left for New Zealand to escape the UK winter and put my recovery to the test.  So that is why we found ourselves cycling mountain bikes along the Timber Trail in the middle of the North Island of New Zealand.

The Timber trail is an 84km long off-road cycle and walking route that was created by the NZ Department of Conservation and teams of volunteers between 2009 and 2013, when it was opened.  It is located in Pureora Forest Park and has 35 bridges along its route.  This is former logging country and the southern half of the trail follows a former tramway that was used to pull logs out of the forest called the Ellis and Burnand Tramway. 

We left our B & B early and met up at the end of the trail south of Ongarue where we picked up hire bikes.  Bernie’s brother had been kind enough to offer us their bikes but cycling around urban Wellington and cycling across the bush are wholly different and we decided to fork out for bikes that stood a better chance of withstanding the rigours of the trail.

A minibus took 4 of us from Ongarue to the start of the trail at Pureora.  The bus ambled through farmland with forest up on our right.  This is tough sheep and cattle country, as is so much of rural New Zealand.  It was overcast and rain threatened.  We had left the start of winter in the UK and it was spring here but definitely not yet summer. 

Our group included Anja from Holland, who was travelling on her own and a NZ man who was helping his brother and a friend who were walking the Te Araroa, the 3,012km walk from one end of Aotearoa New Zealand, to give the country its full name, to the other. 

Jackets on we started out on the trail – and that is what it was.  No roads here and just a meandering trail through the bush.  Tall podocarp trees flanked the trail with birds calling out to warn others of our presence, or maybe just calling out because they can.  There were occasional signs that is was an area of forest operations.  The peak of forestry was between the second world war and the 1990s, delivering timber to build houses throughout the country’s post war economic development. 

We were not alone on the trail, but it was never crowded.  Occasional groups of ebikers would (of course) pass us as they glided (seemingly) effortlessly along.  Most appeared to be NZ nationals but there were the inevitable Dutch riders.  Wherever we go in the world we meet Dutch cyclists.  The combination of cycling and travelling seems part of their national psyche.

This route is well marked and we were only aiming to do 39km on the first day.  But mountain biking is not like road cycling, there is far more rolling resistance, especially in the mud, and the trail went up to 917m at its highest point.  We reached the high point after 14km, and had the pleasure of cycling across the 115m wide Bog Creek suspension bridge, with its spectacular views over the forest below.

The track merged into an old logging road and gradually descended, but with some more steep climbs.  By this point we had got used to the foibles of the bikes and Bernie’s confidence was growing.  The bush was dense throughout the day and the overcast weather limited the views.  There were numerous signboards along the way pointing out local fauna, flora or explaining how the forest operated as a working forest. The boards were clearly put up when the trail was new and, of course, the forest changes and develops all the time.  That meant that some of the “views” were obscured by vegetation but that is a good thing as it shows the forest recovering from being plundered.

 Eventually we reached the end point of the day, Piropiro.  There is a lodge here where most trail riders were staying but we had elected to camp.  Part of the transport service we signed up to dropped our rucksacks at the Lodge and so we stored the bikes and walked the 500m down to the “campsite”.  This was a field with a pit toilet and access to river water.  The Lodge was not built until several years after the trail opened and so, at that stage, camping was the only option.  Now an expensive night awaits those who prefer not  to spend the night under canvass; which we discovered was almost everyone apart from us.  There was a second “glamping” option at Epic Campsite but we wanted to test out our camping gear before going on a 4 day trek and so opted for the basic campsite.

We got the tent up in the dry and then the heavens opened.  Sitting inside the tent with hail hitting the roof, we wondered about the wisdom of our choice but it was all fine when the storm abated.  We ambled up to the Lodge for a beer after a home cooked supper, but found that they could only sell alcohol to residents!  Ginger beer in front of  log fire was an excellent alternative. The residents – many of whom we had exchanged greetings with on the trail were just finishing their evening meal.  We fell in to chatting with a South African couple who were finding the trail hard, even on ebikes.  They expressed “surprise” we were camping and, a few minutes later the woman turned to us and said in a conspiratorial whisper that if her husband ever asked her to do what we were doing, she had told him that he would need to find a new wife!  It was unclear whether he took this as a threat or an opportunity.

The Lodge staff were really friendly even though we were not staying there, and they even offered us some left over apple crumble; and then, as we were leaving, the cook pressed us to take more apple crumble. Over catering has its benefits.   That turned into a marvellous breakfast but, for that detail, you will have to read on to tomorrow.

So we have arrived at our final cycling destination, the modern city of Nha Trang.  It was 50km, mostly along our “friend” the QL1 – or the “one and only” as we have christened it.  We have now covered about 3,140km since we left Bangkok on 8 January, some 10 weeks ago. Our longest day was 112km and the shortest cycling day was 23km (on Cat Ba island), but we have had plenty of days off the trikes.

Coming down the one and only we had the usual range of lorries coming a bit closer than we would have liked (but never too close) and motorbikes going the wrong way along the hard shoulder for no apparent reason (irritating but that is how things work here so bury the irritation).  We also had our fair share of motorbike gawpers – people who ride along side us looking at the trikes (or possibly us) in wonderment, saying nothing but getting so close to be a complete pain to both us and anyone trying to overtake.   None have caused an accident as the traffic here mysteriously weaves around anything in its way, and we have nearly got used to these inspections. But when I reacted to a particularly irritating gawper, Bernie accused me (justifiably) of being “Mr Grumpy”.  She was right – it is their country and they are entitled to gawp if they want, andI resolved to do better – even if I don’t quite make it to being Mr Cheerful.

At one point we stopped at a place titled “Motel and Coffee Land” and asked for coffee – but were told no, we don’t do coffee!  The fact that the title is “Coffee Land” is sort of irrelevant because everyone knows that we don’t do coffee!  Andfor all manner of reasons, that sums up part of Vietnam.

So what are my reflections on the past few months?  We are both significantly stronger and slimmer than we were on 6 January.  The trikes have been tricky to maintain at times but overall a real success; we cannot imagine touring now on conventional bikes.  They can be a bit slower when climbing, do attract a bit more attention and the gawpers can be irritating (there is me being Mr Grumpy again) but this is far outweighed by the comfort, the smiles, the thumbs up and general expressions of approval.  They are great on the flat, fast downhill, stable and the scenic view is far better for most of the time than on a bike.  However, perhaps the biggest benefit for those of us who reluctantly admit that we are nearer the finish line of life’s race than the starting blocks, is that they are kinder on the body.  Fewer muscle aches, no neck aches and a more comfortable seat.  

We have not camped a great deal on this trip and done no wild camping.  This is not surprising given how many hotel rooms we have secured for less than £10 per night, but perhaps we are getting a little soft or maybe a tad less hardy in our 60s.  I still love waking up in our little tent with the dawn streaming in, but real wild camping only works where there are long light evenings.  When it gets dark by 6pm, it can be a very long time without light before dawn and a tent is a small place to spend those hours!  

The best book I have read on this journey is, without doubt, “A history of loneliness” by John Boyne, which is a study into the mindset of those who closed their eyes and minds to clerical sexual abuse in the Catholic Church Ireland in the period from the 1960s.  It is not so much about the mindset of the abusers or even those who directly covered up known abuse (evil as both groups are), but focuses on those who sort of knew but put their heads in the sand to ignore the obvious signs amongst their colleagues and said nothing.  The book is about those in the priesthood in Ireland, but as a lawyer I have seen the same behaviour in teachers, those working in other contexts with children and in relation to other forms of sexual abuse in other contexts.  It is not an easy read but wonderfully written.  Perhaps, trips give us the time to read books which are not an easy read and the cycling gives us time to dwell on the insights of others, be it in literature, in politics or in art.

There are so many fantastic places we have been that it would be invidious to single out any one place and say that this was the highlight of the trip. The Gibbon Experience will live long in the memory, as will the fantastic rock shapes of Halong Bay.  But one of my strongest memories of this trip will be the loud laughter of the nurses on that terrible evening when they were putting stitches into Bernie’s head wound after the stove exploded.  That memory sticks out because, applying our British (or even European) approach, it was so inappropriate.  Laughing at pain is inimical to our way of thinking but equally it was so typical of the approach in Laos.  Our experience is that the Lao people laugh at virtually everything, are masters of the practical joke and see the funny side of any tradegy.  They are a poor people who objectively one would have thought do not have a great deal to laugh about.  But happiness, jokes and fun are hard wired into the national psyche and come out all the time – even when stitching up a head wound in hospital.  It is a great way to tackle adversity and reminds us of the importance of laughter – and we have done a great deal of that in the last 10 weeks. We have laughed a lot – between ourselves and in company. It is a habit we must not loose when we get back to the UK.

Some of the temples –  largely in Thailand – were also trip highlights, mainly because they were places of calm contemplation and beautiful artwork in the middle of frenetic cities.  They were soulful in places where we struggled to find souls! We were also suprised by the extent to which Vietnam is a catholic country – there are churches everywhere but we have not seen a single mosque. That seems astonishing given that it is so close to other countries that are deeply Islamic.

We also noted that there are virtually no Vietnamese men with beards. We wondered why and the internet provided two answers. First, the genetic makeup of most men here means they do not grow extensive facial hair but just in the chin area and upper lip – hence a more modest confusian type of beard. However a better answer is the Vietnamese saying “ram rau sau mat” which roughly translated means women see men with beards and deep eyes as “barbaric, cruel, uneducated and likely criminals”.

This has been a different trip to previous cycle tours because my work as a working barrister (like a trial lawyer) has come to an end, and so I have not been worrying about cases and answering emails as I have gone along as been the case with all previous trips.  This has given me an intellectual  freedom to read, think and write which I have not had before.  I come back to the UK with the yoke of practice removed from me – like having the albatross taken off my neck.  Day to day life will certainly be different when I get back.  I will just be a part time Judge now – not a full time barrister and part time judicial office holder – so not quite a pensioner but on the way there.  

One of the things which always astonishes me is the fact that, almost however uninteresting the landscape is, we rarely if ever get bored during the long hours in the saddle.  It is partly the need for physical effort the whole time, partly that there is always something to see and partly because we both, to an extent, live in our heads when we are cycling.  By that I mean that our minds freewheel whilst our bodies are doing the work.  This produces an effect that Bernie and I have observed on far too many occasions for it to be a coincidence – one of us will say “I was just thinking X” only for the other to confess to having a near identical train of thought.  It can often be about something pretty obscure, but it happens at some point most days.  So I think what is happening is that we are thinking pretty solidly for much of the time when we are cycling, but not just about the passing scenery but about our children, family, friends and wider issues in our lives.  And yes, we are going to explore getting a treehouse when we get home!

The trip has had ups and downs of course – physical, emotional and psychological.  The exploding stove was a low point but we were just (if not more) as affected by seeing Bien and his wife grappling with the terrible consequences for their son of developing a serious and difficult to treat autoimmune disease which developed quickly and came from nowhere – but for the luck of the draw (or the grace of God), their anguish could be any parent in any part of the world.  We continue to hope for the best for them.  If we were people of faith, they would be in our prayers but we are not so we can just have hope for them.  

So we come to an end of another fantastic journey, and hope you have enjoyed following us on this blog.  We write it for multiple reasons.  In one sense, it is selfishly for us – capturing memories so we can re-read it at home and it will bring great times back to life when the bikes are packed away and the flabbiness has returned.  But it is also for our family and friends – to persuade them we are still going, share thoughts and persuade them that, whatever the hardships, we are enjoying ourselves. 

And the blog is also for people we have never met but who might get some benefit from reading about our travels.  We hope that Jack and Kiera – who of course we have met – will find it useful for their trip  – they are the lovely couple we met yesterday who are battling the winds to cycle north – doing much of our trip in reverse.  Maybe it is also of interest to people who have never packed a pannier or cycled off into the unknown, but who just fancy the idea of it or want to follow someone’s travels from an armchair. This blog is for you too. 

I am signing off now – hasta la vista until the next trip.

Today was a better day than yesterday which, we felt, was not that difficult.  The hotel was like lots of travellers hotels in this part of the world – clean but basic.  Judging by the cars in the ground floor area, a few people had arrived late but we saw no sign of other visitors.  We made porridge on the balcony, packed up and were ready to leave at 7, but were detained by a cloudburst that started just as we put the panniers on the trikes.  Rain here can be proper “stair rods” rain – loads of water falling for maybe 10 minutes and then just drizzle.  So we sat out the stair rods and took off in the drizzle.

Our route took us on the QL1 (main road from Hanoi to Ho Chi Minh city) for about 10km.  We carefully stuck to the hard shoulder, only moving out (and then gingerly) when there was a parked lorry or someone was driving the wrong way – something that is far more frequent than one would expect.  The convention appears to be that the person going the right way along the road moves out and lets the person going the wrong way have the inside lane.  I cannot imagine that working on the M25!

We then had a delightful 12km across flat farmland – and it would have been even more delightful if the rain had not resumed with some gusto.   We stopped at a cafe and put on full raingear – with the inevitable watchers-on.  One of the things we have noticed here is that people with mild (and more) learning difficulties are not hidden away.  They are often part of the family running a cafe and, often having less inhibitions than others, come up to us and try to speak.  Today the man who watched us put on our weather gear could not speak full words of Vietnamese and equally could not understand how we could not fully understand what he was saying – or trying to say.  Language is not a complete barrier and we got some messages back and forth, mainly about how mad we were in trying to cycle in the rain!  On that we tended to agree with him.

The rain did not last long but this gentle section of the route came to an end after 10km when we rejoined the QL1.  We stopped for coffee in Thanh Duc, a fishing town with a good coffee shop.  10km more on the QL1 and we bare our farewell to this arterial road and went onto smaller roads for the rest of the day – some of dubious surfaces that slowed us up and others of which were fine.  The route took us south, along the coast but we found that we almost never saw the sea, as there was almost continuous development or wooded areas next to the shore.  At one stage we went through a fishing town, Thanh Xuan, where there were hundreds of small fishing boats in the harbour, as well as fish drying on the side of the road.  Fishing is a major industry here and fishing is done at night, with the boats having a range of lights to attract the fish.  To us, almost all the boats appear tiny (or at least we did not see any bigger boats).  

The road took us across another major river, this time the Song Loi Giang, and we hit a section where a line of East-West mountains comes right down to the seaside.  That means the road has to climb through the end of the mountains – and we needed to get out our climbing legs again. These were two tough, tough climbs. Only 150m and 120m, but the slopes were up to 17% in places and this was the heat of the middle of the day.  I abandoned my helmet and even my sunglasses as the salt from the sweat was hurting my eyes.  It was tough climbing but we got up them.  We saw no other cyclists – what a surprise!

The section of road between the two hills was right along the sandy beach, and was totally unspoilt.  We stopped and took in the sheer beauty of the surroundings.  It is captured on this video and pictures.

Following the last descent, we started to look for food and found a tiny market – but with everything we needed for supper.  We filled our panniers and then headed to the “homestay” we had identified as our destination for today, located on large inland lake.  This had great reviews but we noted they were all pre-pandemic.  We had called ahead and spoken to the owner (who spoke English) but he said he was “elsewhere” and his mother would sort us out, which she duly did – again googletranslate and the son on the phone making it all happen.  

The homestay is well set up, on the shores of the silver lake, but it had a slightly run down feeling.   There was some developed area for visitors, including walkways into the lake, boats which may have been for hire, places to swim and some fun structures – including an English red telephone box!

But we were the only visitors today and had the impression we may have been the only visitors for some time.  It was unclear whether the business has been mothballed (possibly as a result of the pandemic) or only operated in the summer months.  This is supposed to be peak tourist season at the moment but it is unseasonably cold.  The rain we have cycled through is not supposed to start until May, but the climate appears to be changing, and it does not give the appearance of a place for peak “winter sun” tourism.  Anyway, we arrived early enough to relax in the light, walk to the lake, take some silly pictures and then Bernie cooked a lovely meal.  

This time next week we are due to be in HCM airport, waiting to board our flight home.  It has been an amazing trip so far but, as we go into the last week, our thoughts are starting to head for home, the family we are looking forward to seeing and our friends who we miss.  However, we are determined not to wish away the last week but to make the most of everything.

Mindful that we had a long day today and we got very hot yesterday, we set our alarm clock early(i.e. 5.30!!). So we woke in the dark for the first time in a long time and were on the road by 6.30 in the cool of the morning (light by then). We were outside the Royal Palms Hotel and saw that they had put the name of the hotel on the benches outside – except that it said “Royal Pams” instead.  We should have got a photo but I thought – “good on you to every Royal Pam –  whoever you may be – that is your bench”.

Tuy Hoa was already busy but we were soon on a quiet, if slightly dull road, but enlivened by multitudes of helicopters taking off and doing circuits over the sea.  May Tuy Hoa is a helicopter training base, or it might be more sinister. Some dark clouds threatened but these cleared to a beautiful day. We were taking the ‘long way’ round a headland as the main QL1 now had the benefit of a tunnel through the mountain – from which cycles are barred.   Not that we wanted to follow the QL1 more than we had to or brave a long road tunnel. There was nothing in the guidebook about this area but the squiggly line on the map turned out to be one of our most scenic rides of the trip. 

The road had quite a few ups and downs but none were too steep. The views were spectacular out across the sea and across a large bay, Vung Ro Bay. There had been no coffee stops thus far so we were just thinking of stopping to brew up ourselves when we passed our first touring cyclists in Vietnam. As always it was great to meet fellow cyclists, who understand what we are doing and we can share stories. Soon we invited Keira and Jack – who are from Eastbourne – to join us for coffee and had a great time chatting to them while we brewed up and they played on the trikes.  They were 10 days into their trip doing pretty much the reverse of our trip. I hope they have as good a time as we have had, avoid any exploding stoves and we wish them well on their travels.

All good things come to an end and our beautiful road also came to an end as we had to join QL1 for a section. We managed to divert off onto a parallel road for a bit where we managed to have our first ice cream of the trip. 

I don’t know why we had waited so long! Then back for another 13km on QL1 as there were no alternatives, with the mountains coming right down to the coast. The road was actually quite quiet and we had a brisk tail wind pushing us along (we felt for Keira and Jack who were going South to North and so have been battling a headwind so much of the time). Once we turned off for the last few Kms to our destination, we hit the wind and realised how lucky we had been with the wind behind.

We arrived at Doc Let beach, which had been given a good write up in the guide book as a pristine, unspoilt beach of white sands. I would say in general we have been slightly disappointed with the beaches in Vietnam (although we are not really beachy people it must be said). Doc let was probably one of the better ones and it did have 10km of whiteish sand lined with palm trees. At one end of the bay though there is now a big industrial complex which rather ruins the view but if you look to the other direction it is picturesque. The sea was shallower and calmer here – most of the beaches so far have have been windy with rough waves.  That, combined with reports of strong undertows meant we have not been tempted to swim. However with the more benign and warm sea here, we did go for a brief swim and spash in the waves as the sun went down.

Like so many places we have been, it seems out of season here – at least on a Tuesday afternoon/evening. We are not quite the only people in our quite large hotel but it’s not exatly buzzing. I guess we try to get to out of the way places and are then surprised that there are not many people here!  However, the level of building along the coast is enormous with what looks like 2 large hotels here under construction among several large resorts already here so they must expect a good number of tourists at least at some parts of the year.  We read somewhere that there were a lot of Russian tourists but none in evidence at the moment.

All the beach side restaurants looked closed or cavernously empty and we did not like the look of a number of small ‘sea food’ places (not wanting to get food poisoning at the 11th hour of our trip). We resorted to our old favorite Pizza feeling that it was very difficut to go too wrong with Pizza and unlikley to result in ill effects as it is blasted in a hot oven. David found a place on google maps with some photos but no reviews. We walked around feeling increasingly dubious that it existed when we saw a sign and walked into someone’s front yard.  Yes, they did Pizza and produced a handwritten menu. We had the best Pizzas of the trip so far! A good end to our last full day cycling for this trip.

Today was the second to last full day of cycling, and was about the hottest weather we have experienced, but nonetheless was a lovely day in the saddle (or on the comfy seats of our trikes which can hardle be called saddles).  We are significantly further south than Bangkok and into the “two seasons” part of Vietnam.  The north part of the country has four seasons and the south has two – a wet and dry season.  I am not quite sure where the divide is but we are south of it.

We breakfasted at the Haven Hotel – which meant a slightly later start.  The first 400m was winding through the narrow lanes of the village (just about enough space for a motorbike but no cars) and then up a 17% ramp to the main road.  The road was undulating across a series of headlands – none too steep but a sequence of 30/40m climbs and the descents.  On one descent I was travelling about 50kph and noticed a huge pothole ahead.  Fortunately the road was quiet so I could maneuver around it but it would have been more challenging if it had been busier.

There was lots going on in the villages we passed – shops, schools, police roadblocks (they never stop us) and general activity.   Vietnam does not appear to have a problem with under-employment – where people are not “unemployed” but do not have enough to do.  It seems a busy, motivated place where people are constantly economically active.  One of the things we have noticed is that practically all buildings here appear to have been built since the war (which ended in 1975).  Spotting older buildings is difficult but they are few in number.  This is a country where economic success has been relatively recent and has followed a population explosion.  It has a population today of about 100M people, but was 47M at the end of the war and so has more than doubled in less than 50 years.  In contrast, the UK had a population of 56M in 1975 and is 67M now.  

The population is still growing – this is a young country – but at a much lower rate.  There is considerable external investment, political stability (this is a one party, “communist” state with a capitalist economy) and GDP has doubled since about 2010.  All of which explains why many now regard Vietnam as a developed nation as opposed to being a developing nation – but it is a matter of semantics.  To us it is an economic success story where the benefits of increased wealth have, to some extent, been spread beyond a favoured few.  It seems clear that if you are a middle class, employed person in this country, life has the potential to be very good.  There is poverty, but on nothing like the scale we saw in Laos – but there is a huge job to tackle environmental pollution and to create sustainable waste systems – no doubt tasks that the government here is well aware of.

That digression arose because cycling through the country gives us an opportunity to see, take in and examine things in slow time in a way that is not possible from a car or even on the bus.  That is not to say that this level of economic development justifies a single party system – as South Korea and Japan – both functioning democracies are still by far and away the most successful economies in this region.

We had coffee in a delightful little fishing town, Son Cau, and then headed to “the bridge”.  Bernie had discovered a motorbike/footbridge which crossed a causeway and saved us about 15km cycling. But there was a catch – it was rickerty as hell, collapsed and was “rebuilt” last year and crossing it’s 1km length was a trial in itself.  I will leave the video to tell the story but we survived, though Bernie confessed that she was terrified all the way along.

After the bridge, the “road” disintegrated and was just a pitted, sandy track.  This is where the trikes are great because they are so stable – even with one front wheel about 12 inches higher than the other!  Eventually a concrete surface emerged under the sand and we went through more fishing villages.  There was delightful scenery but it was midday now and getting hot – in a “mad dogs and Englishmen” sense.

We rolled into Tuy Hoa at about 3pm – having covered 85km.  This was a modern, well developed town of 200,00 people – not in any of the guidebooks.  It has numerous hotels but we were not sure why.  There is a lovely beach but, when we walked on it, it was virtually empty apart from near the Sala Grand Hotel (rooms are 2M dong per night – about £75).  We walked from the beach to the commercial centre and had a lovely Vietnamese meal, then reverted to our hotel by about 7.30pm.  We are both pretty tired and know we have a long day tomorrow, so its a case of blog and bed!

Today was mainly an A to B day with not a great deal of interest on the way, although we ended up at a lovely hotel right on the beach with waves crashing outside our window. 

We packed up as the sun rose over the lake and were soon on our way back towards the coast. We turned south through a few villages then took a route down a peninsula which we thought would be pretty, although there was little on the map. We were wrong about the road being pretty and right about there being very little on the road, which was largely an empty sandy spit of land. We chugged along a minor road feeling pleased that the wind was still behind us. 

We then had one of those bizarre Vietnam experiences when, in the middle of nowhere, the road turned into a smart dual carriageway. It looked newly built with some care planting up the central reservation but there was no traffic apart from a few motorbikes and the road seemed to come from nowhere and go nowhere. We have had this before but usually after a short while the road reverts back to something minor or we turn onto a new road. This thought went through our minds but the road confounded us by going on for kilometer after kilometer. The road surface was good, the wind pushing us along and legs going like metronomes, so we ate up the kilometers at a good rate. 

We crossed a bridge at the end of a peninsula and thought things would change. The road got marginally more interesting but the dual carriageway persisted. Now were were between the sea and some high hills. The clouds over the hills were black and dumping down rain as the moist sea air hit them but luckily we stayed dry.

Finally after 40km we reached a larger town, at Cat Tien, and we stopped for coffee. Although advertised as ‘espresso’ we were brought the usual Vietnamese coffee with the blob of condensed milk in the bottom. It was OK, as long as you don’t think of it as “coffee” (as we understood the term). What we did not realise at first was  is that the town of Cat Tien is the place with the largest sitting Buddha is South East Asia. Building started in 2009 and was only completed in 2017. There are 600 steps up to the Buddha but we decided to sit at the bottom and drink coffee and gaze up to the Buddha instead. I suspect that earlier in the trip we would have been more enthusiastic and tackled the steps!

Whilst we were in the coffee shop we noticed that a group of about 10 men of all ages (some quite young) in the back of the cafe were sitting, listening intently to the noises made by about 10 or a dozen songbirds who were all in relatively small cages, which were hung up at head height.  At regular intervals, a man would get up from his chair and move a cage from one hanging place to another, beside a bird.  At the time we did not understand what we were seeing but a little research later showed that songbirds are kept by about one third of Vietnamese families, and there is a tradition that they bring good luck and prevent men from descending into vices such as alcoholism or gambling.  The men bring the birds together to show them to friends and, in particular, to allow them to learn songs from other birds.  So what we were seeing was cages being moved so that a bird who only had a limited repertoire was moved next to (and hopefully learned from) a bird that had a wider range of songs. This was not a display for Western tourists (who may well have views on wild birds being kept in small cages) but was a tradition being carried on which we happened to stumble across.  

Back on the dual carriageway again down another sand peninsular. One side had wind turbines (the only ones we have seen). On the other side we saw lots of cranes to start with, and then later on a grand entrance to ‘Nhon Hoi New City’ but little evidence of anything there. Another project that does not seem to have got off the ground although perhaps they are starting to build again now – there are some very swanky signboards and websites showing mock ups of what the city will look like and enticing investors. 

At the end of this peninsular we crossed a 3km bridge over to the city of Quy Nhon. I had scoffed at David at breakfast that we would be there by lunchtime, pointing out that it was 70km, but I had to eat my words as we had covered ground so quickly. Quy Nhon seemed pleasant with tree lined avenues and parks. We did some shopping and had a picnic lunch on the promenade overlooking the sea.

We only had 12 more km to go – but this included a very steep climb out of the city then ups and downs across headlands but we rolled into the tiny village of Bai Xep. Almost literally rolled as the small road dropped precipitously then turned into some narrow alleyways. We struggled to find our hotel, Haven Vietnam, as it looked as if the alleyway dropped into the sea but a sharp turn took us into the hotel which was perched on the rocks over a small sandy bay. We have a lovely room with waves crashing outside – I hope they lull us to sleep tonight!