Wednesday, December 27, 2006

Unlikely Neighbors on Harmony Street

In the morning, I wake up to the gracefully lilting call to prayer emanating from Kampung Kling Mosque down the street. I roll out of bed and talk down the street to visit three unlikely neighbors: a mosque, a Hindu Temple, and a Chinese Temple within two blocks on the same street, nicknamed Harmony Street. The peaceful coexistence of these three houses of worship in such close proximity over hundreds of years testifies to the religious tolerance in Melaka and Malaysia, even as the same groups of people have been at each others’ throats in other parts of the world.

The ornate Cheng Hoon Teng, dating back to 1646, is the oldest Chinese temple in Malaysia. Incense smoke wafts throughout, the temple has been restored to its original glory: the beautiful calligraphy in gold inlaid set in shiny black lacquered panels, delicately carved windows and offering tables with gold trims, ceramic deities sitting atop curving eaves. No details have been overlooked. Sitting down at a cool spot, I admire the temple, listen to the Buddhist chants, and watch dozens of tourists come in to burn incense and make offerings.

Next I walk down the street and, just as the Buddhist chants are out of earshot, come upon the green-roofed Kampung Kling Mosque. This is one of the oldest mosques in Malaysia. Built in the Sumatran style instead of Arabic, the main prayer hall has a double roof instead of a dome. The minaret looks more like a pagoda than the slender minarets at other mosques. Compared to the Chinese temple, the mosque is downright spartan. With graceful Arabic calligraphy over the entrance, the mosque is quiet. As non-Muslims are not allowed to enter the prayer hall, I would have to be content with walking around the open areas.

Literally right next door is Sri Poyatha Venayagar Moorthi Temple. Again, it is one of the oldest Hindu temples in the country. Hindu temples are always a pleasure to visit. Visitors are welcomed by a riot of colors. Throughout the temple, a myriad of statues of deities in vibrant colors stand in various poses in front of walls painted in bright pastel. Fragrant garlands adorn some of the statues, and some are locked behind close doors, open only to people making offerings.

After visiting these temples, it is now time to sample more of the local cuisines!

Cheng Hoon Teng, the Oldest Chinese Temple in Malaysia

Roof Detail

Main Gate of Cheng Hoon Teng

The Sumatran Style Kampung Kling Mosque

Entrance to the Prayer Hall

Sri Poyatha Venayagar Moorthi Temple

Praying

Door of Another Hindu Temple Nearby

Ornate Ceiling of the Temple

Monday, December 25, 2006

A Melakan Christmas

It's Christmas Day, and in Melaka, it's steamy hot. Following last night's delicious dinner, I get out to explore the town and my stomach waits for the coming gastronomic party.

The day’s agenda consists of walking around town and sampling Melaka’s various cuisines.

The rich history of Melaka is partly reflected by the buildings around Town Square left by the successive colonial rulers: the Portuguese, the Dutch, and the British. In the morning, I amble down the quiet lanes and come upon Stadhuys, the fiery-red Dutch-built former town hall and governor’s residence that is the main tourist attraction in Melaka today. Trishaws richly and creatively decorated with vibrant artificial flowers line up along the water fountain dedicated to Queen Victoria in front of Stadhuys. Tourists, both domestic and foreign, mill around the trinket shops and pick their favorite trishaws for a ride. Walking up the small hill behind Stadhuys, I see the ruins of St. Paul’s Church built by the Portuguese. At the bottom of the hill on the other side sits Porta de Santiago, the only remaining part of the Portuguese fort. The narrow lanes of Chinatown are lined by shophouses in various stages of decay and renovation, some showing serious signs of weathering and some have been restored to their former splendor.

Melaka’s history is also partly reflected by its cuisines: Indian, Chinese, Malay, Nyonya (a Chinese-Malay fusion), and Portuguese (I guess the Dutch and the British didn’t care much about food). Following a breakfast of roti masala in Little India, I wander down the street and come across a soymilk stand and have a bowl of freshly made silken tofu in ginger syrup. Later, I wander back to Chinatown for a bowl of a trademark Melakan fare, the mildly-spiced and rich Nyonya laksa. For snacks, I wash down sumptuous tofu rendang (yes, tofu can be sumptuous, believe it or not) with sugar cane juice, and later, roti canai with teh tarik. Despite having all these food, I have worked up a good appetite by dinner time from walking around town all day. So I head back to Little India and have a meal of vegetable curries piled around rice topped with generous helpings of daal, all served on an environmentally-friendly disposable plate, a banana leaf. A big glass of thick lassi serves as the perfect accompaniment.

After this day-long food orgy, I waddle back to the guesthouse and end the perfect day with a few pieces of the colorful and wonderfully flavored Indian dessert cakes.

Living in Melaka, every day can be like Christmas. It really doesn’t get any better than this. I gotta do it again tomorrow!

Flower Trishaws Congregate in Front of the Christ Church



Trishaw Driver Waiting for His Next Group of Customers


Looking Out the Window of St. Paul's Church


Shopped 'til She Dropped


Tough Modeling Job at the Orangutan House

"Give Piss a Chance"

Parking Spot

Sunday, December 24, 2006

Arriving in Melaka

With the month-long cycling trip over, I left Vietnam yesterday and flew to Singapore. My flight ticket allows me to have a stop over in Singapore before going back to Brisbane. Because I have no plans to do any shopping, Singapore does not really have anything to offer. And so I will spending the next ten days in Malaysia. I will first spend a few days in Melaka, then head up to Kuala Lumpur to visit my high school friend Andrea.

The bus trip from Singapore to Melaka consists of two segments: Singapore to Johor Bahru, then Johor Bahru to Melaka. It is relatively painless. The only hassle is crossing the Singapore-Malaysia border. After the bus from downtown Singapore gets to Singapore customs, we have to get off, clear customs, and reboard the bus. After getting taken across the strait on the causeway, we have to get off again, clear customs at the Malaysian side, then reboard the bus to the Johor Bahru bus station, where I get another bus to Melaka.

Arriving in Melaka in the early afternoon, I check into Sama Sama Guesthouse in Chinatown. Despite the really basic rooms, the small guesthouse has a lot of character. After setting my bag down, I go out for a wander around the wonderfully preserved Chinatown and taste the cheap and excellent food. I have dinner at the weekend night market set up along one of the streets of Chinatown. The diverse population of Melaka is a mix of Malay, Chinese, Indian, and Portuguese descendants. They have been doing fusion cuisine hundreds of years before fusion cuisine became hip. And what an amazing result! I know I will definitely hang aroud this town for a few days just to taste the myriad of foods it has to offer.

Texting

Waiting for Customers


Family Trishaw Ride

Walking Past Graffittied Wall

The Orangutan House

View from inside Sama Sama Guesthouse

Friday, December 22, 2006

The Reunification Express to Hanoi

So this is it! Seventeen-hundred kilometer in four weeks, Hanoi to Saigon. It has been a blast. Cycling in Vietnam has been such a pleasure, I would definitely do it all over again.

This was the first long-distance cycling trip I have done, and I definitely picked the right country to do it in. Whether for seasoned cyclists or beginners like me, Vietnam has all the right things for an enjoyable experience: nicely maintained roads with wide shoulder lanes, bus and truck drivers who know to pass cyclists with a comfortable margin, hotels and guesthouses that can be found in the smallest towns, the food and drink stalls next to all the roads, and the curious but friendly locals.

With the cycling part of the trip over, it is a perfect ending to take the train, the Reunification Express, back up to Hanoi. As the north-south train line roughly parallels Highway 1, the train ride will retrace my cycling trip in reverse at an accelerated pace.

With my bike handed over to its next owner, I now am really traveling light, with only my panniers and a small backpack to carry. I get to the train station with plenty of time for the 2300h departure. Getting on the train and finding my berth on the hard-sleeper carriage, I stow my bags and make the bed.

The hard-sleeper car has six berths to each enclosed compartment. The carriage is very clean and is similar to hard sleepers in China. But because Vietnam has narrow-gauge tracks, the trains are narrower than trains in China, thus lacking the fold-down seats in the corridor.

I share the compartment with an older Vietnamese couple who are also going to Hanoi. As the train pulls away from the station at exactly eleven o’clock, I get ready for bed. I will spend the next two nights and one day on this train.

I spend the next thirty hours reading and looking out the window. At quite a few places, I recognize the stretches of Highway 1 I rode on only a couple of weeks before. At Hai Van Pass between Danang and Hue, I get a different perspective on the breathtaking views of the South China Sea and the mountain from two weeks ago when I rode to the top of the pass.

The train pulls into the Hanoi train station at 4:30 a.m. Still sleepy, I stumble down the train into the chilly morning and get a ride on a motorbike to Hanoi Backpackers’ Hostel.

And so I am back to where I started four weeks ago. I have one day to spend here before flying to Singapore tomorrow.

Hanoi Scenes II:

Guarding Motorbikes

Baguette Vendors

Reading in Front of Vietnam's First Emperor

Joy Rides

Chatting at Dusk by Hoan Kiem Lake


Taking a Nap

Wednesday, December 20, 2006

Saigon at Last!

As I am loading up my bike this morning, I discover a flat tire on the back wheel. Partly padding myself on the back for having bike trouble only now, I flip the bike over and start to replace the punctured tube with a spare. Chris walks up and tells me that he is going to take the bus to Saigon.

This is the last riding day of my trip. I have to ride to Saigon. I know there is not going to be any scenery to speak of, but at this point, the ride is about finishing the trip. I make plans to meet up with Chris in Saigon in the afternoon and, for the last time, get on my bike and ride into the distance.

This section of Highway 1 is like the vena cava that returns blood to the heart of southern Vietnam – Saigon. The relatively thin traffic going out of Gia Ray is gradually joined by more and more pouring in from small veins draining the Mekong Delta. By the time I get to Bien Hoa, a satellite city thirty kilometers outside of Saigon, the flow is somewhat hampered by bumper-to-bumper clots built up here and there. Motorbike traffic spills onto the shoulder lane and swallows me up.

While the heavy traffic makes the ride into Saigon a challenge, it is by no means the death-defying circus act that some people have made it out to be. Sure, going around traffic circles is always an exercise in balance, reflex, peripheral vision, coordination, and assertion. But amidst the madness, there IS a pattern. From a month of riding in Vietnam, I have learned the dance. My tentative and clumsy steps in Hanoi has transformed into confident strides, carving out arcs while I take part in the choreography.

After riding in the traffic for a while, I stop to ask for directions and suddenly realize that I have just reached the middle of Saigon, Quan 1. Getting my bearings, I head to the train station and get myself a hard sleeper ticket for tonight to get back to Hanoi. I find Chris at his hotel and we sit down for dinner. Afterwards, we take a walk to transfer ownership of my bike.

My bike is old. I don’t know how old, but old. I picked it up at a used bike shop in Brisbane last year and rode it around Brisbane for almost two years before taking it to Vietnam. It is not worth the hassle to take it back to Australia. So while in Hoi An, I mentioned to my tailor Lan my plan to leave my bike in Vietnam. Without seeing the bike, Lan proposed to exchange my bike for two pairs of tailor-made pants. I was to deliver the bike to her friend in Saigon at the end of my trip.

Chris and I find Lan’s friend and drop off the bike with a little note to Lan. In the note, I ask Lan to enjoy and take care of the bike. Leaving the bike is almost like saying good bye to an old friend. My humble but reliable bike has served me well. It has propelled me through blistering heat and drenching rain, up mountain passes and through bumpy country roads, all without any complaints. I have never attached any sentimental values to any of my material possessions, but this bike may have to be the exception.

With that taken care of, Chris and I sit down and share a jug of Bia Hoi to celebrate the completion of a trip. At ten o’clock, we part ways and I head to the train station for the 2300h train to Hanoi.

Stats:
Distance: 105.3 km
Time: 4h 45m
Average speed: 22.1 kmph
Maximum speed: 50.0 kmph
Odometer: 1695.4 km

Tuesday, December 19, 2006

Mui Ne to Gia Ray

I have to leave Mui Ne this morning if I am to make it to Saigon tomorrow night.

Chris is feeling much better in the morning, but still not 100%. After considering the options of either staying in Mui Ne for an extra day to recover or go with me, he decides on the latter.

We eat a light breakfast and set out early, before it gets too hot. Taking it slow, we pass the city of Phan Thiet and go towards Saigon. By ten o'clock, we have covered twenty kilometers.

As the day heats up, we stop frequently for fluids. Chris is still dehydrated and tired from the ordeal yesterday, so the breaks are crucial. Stopping every ten kilometers or so, we make slow but steady progress. The scenery today is pretty boring, just drab towns along the way.

A little after five o'clock, we get into the town of Gia Ray. I ride in front and Chris trails behind. As we come to a fork in the road, I hear the sound of bike hitting concrete and a yell from behind me. Stopping and turning around, I see Chris and his bike flat on the ground. I run back. Chris lies on the ground, cursing. Apparently, fatigued and riding in the fading daylight, he ran over a rock on the road and completely wiped out. After a while, he gets up, and checks to make sure that he hasn't broken anything. Miraculously, he hasn't. While his helmet is cracked open, Chris comes out a little stunned but relatively unscathed, with only superficial scrapes on his arm and leg. A bunch of women sitting across the road in front of a bridal shop run over. They help him push his bike to their shop and start to bring out little bottles of solutions to clean his scrapes.

With Chris' road rash taken care of, we thank the women and walk for what seems like an eternity to the only hotel in town. Knowing that they are the only game in town, the receptionist tells us that they only have single rooms for 200,000 dong each. After such a long day, Chris is in dire need of a good shower and some basic level of comfort. With no other option, he checks into the hotel. I walk down the street to find a room at a very basic guesthouse down a dark alley for a quarter of the price.

By the time we settle into our respective places, it is already late. We will see how we feel and decide how to get to Saigon in the morning.

Stats:
Distance: 114.3 km
Time: 5h 49m
Average speed: 19.6 kmph
Maximum speed: 47.5 kmph
Odometer: 1590.1 km

Monday, December 18, 2006

Food Poisoning, Episode 2

I wake up in the middle of the night to the sound of retching in the dark. "Chris?" I call out. "I guess I got it this time," he mumbles from the bathroom. I turn on the light. The only thing I can do is to offer him some water and activated charcoal pills. Having gone through the same thing only a little over two weeks ago, I know the only thing we can do is to let it run its course, so to speak. Climbing back onto bed, I search for tinges of cramping or discomfort in my stomach. None so far, but am I going to get it too?

In the morning when I wake up without having my stomach turned inside out, I am a bit relieved. Having been up all night, poor Chris is exhausted and dehydrated.

Last night we had dinner at one of the countless restaurants lining the road going out of town. Chris had beef, I had squid, and we shared vegetables. It could be the beef, it could be a local bug that I've gotten used to, or it could be what Chris had for lunch; we will never know.

Riding is out of the question for Chris. Our rest day will have to be extended, but only by one day. I will have to get to Saigon, two days away, by December 20 if I were to take the train back up to Hanoi. We will see how Chris feels tomorrow morning. I may have to go by myself.

While Chris is holed up in the hotel to recuperate, I ride out to the sand dunes for a quick look.

Waitress at a family cafe

The sand dunes at Mui Ne extends to the sea

Rippled Sand

Sunset at the fishing port

Afterglow

Coming Home

The Day's Haul

Local Cyclist

Sunday, December 17, 2006

The Little Firewall of Vietnam

I almost forgot that Vietnam is still a one-party dictatorship that censors the ways people access information. So when, after I left Ha Long Bay, it became impossible for me to update my blog time and time again, I became really annoyed and blamed Blogspot. I sent them an email to express my displeasure.

Then it dawned on me that maybe it's because blogspot and other blogging sites are blocked in Vietnam. I did a search of discussion boards and, what do you know, my suspicions were true. Vietnam has set up its equivalent of the Great Firewall of China to control access to websites that may potentially be damaging to those in power. Blogging sites ... dissidents ... open and free discussions ... The government wasted no time to set up a filter to block them. I got onto a proxy server and there it was, my blog, just sitting there doing nothing.

Apparently the filter isn't working all that well, considering I was able to update my blog in Hanoi and Ha Long City. But it works well enough that I haven't been able to access it for more than two weeks. Now I'm in Mui Ne, 200 km northeast of Saigon, and by luck I came across an internet cafe that gives me acess to my blog again. Well, not quite - a lot of characters are not being displayed properly.

For the last two weeks, I've been emailing blog entries to myself. After I get out of Vietnam and find a reliable internet connection, I'll post the back-dated entries with pictures.

Saturday, December 16, 2006

Ca Na to Mui Ne

Despite being next to Highway 1, the hotel in Ca Na is surprisingly quiet. Just like how I fell asleep last night, I wake up in the morning to the sound of small waves crashing onto the beach. The fishermen are out on their basket boats for their morning catch as the sun comes up. The sea is calm, the breeze cool and the sky blue, it is going to be another good day. Leaving Ca Na, I make a mental note to return to this delightfully empty beach town if I ever come back to Vietnam again.

As Chris and I start riding, the sun beats down unimpeded, warming up everything around us. The dry air blows across the arid landscape; and the land rapidly heats up. We are still riding through the driest area of Vietnam. The road first goes up a few gradual climbs, which are relatively easy if it weren't for the heat.

We stop at a stall selling watermelons at the top of one of the small hills. Sitting down, we maul our way through a small watermelon. This becomes a recurring theme for the rest of the day. Every half an hour or so, we would stop for fluids: mineral water, watermelon, coconut juice, sugar cane juice, etc. With the frequent breaks, the heat actually becomes tolerable.

At the town of Luong Son, we turn off from Highway 1 and go down the new road to Mui Ne. The road goes over a plateau, requiring some decent climbing. The road is obviously new - the lane markings look as if they have just been painted yesterday. In excellent condition, the road goes over undulating hills and through a couple of small villages. It sees so little vehicular traffic, the only thing I have to watch out for are goats or cows crossing the road. Going onto the main traffic lane, we push up hills, coast down to the bottom, ocassionally breaking for animals, and continue on like this for forty enjoyable kilometers.

As the sun sets, we pass a string of upscale resorts and reach the nondescript town of Mui Ne. The more reasonably-priced hotels are just beyond the town. We check into the first hotel just past the town.

As the sky darkens, the air cools with the breeze blowing in from the South China Sea. Time to give our legs a rest - tomorrow will be a rest day.

Stats:
Distance: 113.5 km
Time: 4h 37m
Average speed: 24.5 kmph
Maximum speed: 59.5 kmph
Odometer: 1414.6 km

Friday, December 15, 2006

Ba Ngoi to Ca Na

The hotel in Ba Ngoi where Chris and I are staying the night is right on Highway 1, so the traffic never really dies down at night. The night is punctuated by sounds of trucks and buses barreling through the town. One advantage of doing a cycling trip is, even if a typhoon hits, I can still sleep throught the night like a log.

In the morning, the combination of sunlight streaming through the window, animal noise, and the increasingly louder traffic noise works better than an alarm clock. After the morning rituals, we are off again.

Five kilometers south of town, we come upon a swanky-looking restaurant and decide to stop for breakfast. Although totally outside of town and next to Highway 1, it is quite a nice place. With real furniture and what looks like a concerted effort in decoration, the restaurant wouldn't look out of place in any big Western city. Prices on the menu are steep by Vietnamese standards but are still a bargain by Western standards. Chris and I order a couple of cheap breakfast items. Soon we are on our way again.

From the moment we get on our bikes, a generous tailwind starts to push us onward. During some stretches of the road, I wish I have a higher gear. This has got to be the most effortless day in the whole trip. The wind propels us at speeds up to 44 kmph over pancake flat roads.

Gradually, the landscape changes from lush green fields to arid, desert-like terrain. The population starts to thin out. Cacti start to appear at the side of the road, the air gets noticeably drier, the hills and mountains start to lose their green covering and become rocky. With the hot sun beating down from the cloudless sky, it start to feel like we are riding in the American Southwest rather than Vietnam. I never knew Vietnam has an area like this.

Assisted by the tailwind, we fly through this strangely un-Vietnamese landscape. Before long, we start to see little shacks appearing at the side of the road. A pungent smell hangs in the air despite the wind - or maybe the smell has already saturated the shacks and is now being blown about by the wind. It is the unmistakable smell of fish sauce. Every shack has bottles upon bottles of the golden nector of the sea for sale.
And with this introduction, we reach Ca Na. It's not much of a town, more of a collection of shacks with a few hotels in between. We become aware of how undeveloped the town is when every place in town that can afford it turns on its own generator as night falls.

Ca Na has a very nice beach - and it's deserted. We check into a hotel right on the beach, jump into the ocean for a swim, enjoy a quiet sunset, and have dinner at the excellent restaurant next to the hotel.

At night, I sit on the beach, enjoying the gentle breeze, the soothing rhythmic sound of the waves crashing onto the beach, and the blinking lights on fishing boats in the distance - what a way to end a day.

Stats:
Distance: 78.5 km
Time: 2h 44m
Average speed: 28.6 kmph
Max speed: 44.0 kmph
Odometer: 1301.1 km

Thursday, December 14, 2006

Nha Trang to Ba Ngoi

I want to get to Saigon by the 20th at the latest and Chris is ready for some riding, so we get up at a decent hour and slowly get started. We are taking today easy, with only sixty kilometers on the agenda.

We have been informed of a brand new road out of Nha Trang south to the new airport that later joins Highway 1. A few kilometers south of town, we get on the new road. Besides the occasional bus or truck, the road is mostly empty - I call it Cyclists' Delight. After passing a couple of new housing developments in the suburbs of Nha Trang with what looks like villas for the upper class that wants to escape the city, we ride on the billiards-table smooth blacktop out of the city proper. The road hugs the coast for a while and goes up a gentle hill, giving an expansive view of Nha Trang and its outlying islands surrounded by turquoise water. For the next thirty kilometers, the quiet road snakes through a couple of hills and small sandy areas before straightening out into a broad boulevard heading toward the new airport. The whole way, there isn't one drink stall or vendor. Perhaps this is due to the road going through uninhabited areas, or it could be that the road is so new, people haven't yet had a chance to set up their stands on the side of the road.

After a long strech without seeing any place for food or drinks, we finally spot a restaurant over a large pond by a river. Hungry and thirsty, we stop for lunch. Walking past groups of men in business attires eating expensive-looking dishes, we sit down at a table. I see a waitress grilling what looks like squid on a little charcoal grill. I ask how much it is for a plate of rice with the squid. "Twenty thousand dong," she said. That sounds good, so we each order a plate. After a while, two plates of fried rice with white strips on top come out. We take a closer look - the white strips are tubular, looking more like worms than squid. The waitstaff, not speaking a word of English, can only tell us the strips are called "xa sung." I take a bite, it's chewy. After a lot of hand-waving and pointing to the pond by the waitstaff and a customer at the next table, we can only gather that it is something that lives in the mud at the bottom of the pond. Also, it is supposed to be "one of the five foods that are very good for you," according to the customer at the next table. I don't want to ask what the other four are. Well, we ordered it, and it doesn't taste bad, might as well eat it. I start to eat while Chris picks around the worms. Whatever "xa sung" is, it had better not give me some kind of parasite.

With that bit of drama over, we cross the bridge next to the restaurant and come to a drink stand with coconuts on the ground and hammocks strung up on poles. Here I introduce Chris to the pleasure of enjoying coconut juice while swinging on a hammock - perfect antidote for a hot day like this.

Just for a perfect ending for the first day of riding together with Chris, a nice tailwind makes the second half of the ride effortless. We reach our destination of Ba Ngoi just before the sun sets.

Stats:
Distance: 58.5 km
Time: 2h 49m
Average speed: 20.8 km/h
Maximum speed: 58.5 km/h
Odometer: 1222.6 km

Wednesday, December 13, 2006

Dai Lanh to Nha Trang

With a pretty and deserted beach, Dai Lanh is a nice place for hanging around a bit, even with the prostitutes in front of every other shop trying to get business. But I have to head down to Nha Trang to meet up with Chris for the rest of the ride to Saigon.

I walk out of the guesthouse and see the bright sunlight beating down on the courtyard of the guesthouse. This is the first time so far in Vietnam with not a cloud in the sky. Glad that I won't have to face the prospect of riding in the rain anymore, I say goodbye to Adrian and head down the road.

A strong headwind greets me as I start, and it stays for most of the day, making it one of the more difficult days. However, this is compensated by the spectacular scenery along the way, with mountains to the west, the ocean to the east, and rice paddies flanking the road on either side. The road goes over a few small mountain passes and undulating hills. Add the strong sun beating down into the mix, and that makes a perfect day for swinging on a hammock and sipping coconut or sugar cane juice.

Ninety kilometers and several long hammock breaks later, I roll into Nha Trang and pass the inviting beach and broad oceanside promenade where locals hang out in the late afternoon sun. I check into the hotel where Chris is staying and we go to dinner.

After quite a few days out of touristy places and already gotten used to the much cheaper prices of small towns, I brace myself for all the trappings that come with a big tourist drawcard like Nha Trang: inflated prices for everything and the constant call of "Motorbike?" by drivers hanging out on curbs.
Stats:
distance: 89.7 km
time: 4h 35m
Avg: 19.5 km/h
Max: 49.5 km/h
Odometer: 1164.2 km