I can drive a motorcycle. Now, you might be thinking yes, we know, you live in Hanoi this entry is already boring, but don't be confused. In Hanoi, all the time, everyday - I drive a motorbike. Now, I can drive a motorcycle. What is the difference you ask, well, I am sure there are many specifics in Mr. Merriam-Webster, himself, but I am going to tell you what I personally have perceived the differences to be.
Number 1: It has a clutch - where the left hand used to just hang out on the handlebar of my motorbike or in my pocket if it was cold and I forgot gloves, it now has a job. It is in charge of the clutch.
Number 2: It can drive up hills without making you feel terrible for dragging it through such a distressing hardship. On a motorbike, if the hill is steep, I am crawling along at speeds that I could walk faster than all the while listening to the engine growl and groan and continuously threatening to give up not only on the hill, but on life itself. Once I finally coax it to the top, it is such an admirable feat to slowly roll over the summit and start to tip downwards as the bike and I sigh with content and the wind is welcome again on my sweaty face. (Now we don't have these kind of hills in Hanoi, but I have taken my little Yamaha Taurus outside the city and this is what I have encountered.) A motorcycle is totally different. I can go up hills at whatever pace I want.
Number 3: I look entirely badass on a motorcycle and entirely mundane on a motorbike. I have inserted pictures to help you understand. This is the same bike in both pictures and notice how badass I look. This also translates to how I feel on each. I used to feel super cool on my motorbike when it was new and I couldn't think of any girl back home who knew how to drive one. I had successfully added a new skill to my set of skills and it was a cool one. Then, I lived in Vietnam for three years and driving a motorbike became quite routine because all of my friends here have one, so I am no longer anything special. But then, I made the leap to learning how to drive a motorcycle and boom! I once again felt cooler than other people. Now, this comes with a side effect that I didn't see coming. Once going back to my motorbike after driving a motorcycle for four days - I now do not only feel regular and bland, but also feel like a complete loser on it, nerd even. It suddenly seems tiny and more of a scooter than ever before. Plus slow. But alas, I must drive it as it is my own, and I do not own a motorcycle.
These are the three most standout differences to me personally. I am 100% positive that if you asked someone who is a professional at comparing the two, he would not agree with my top three. But, since this is my blog, this is what we have to work with.
Anyways I have recently gone on a jaw-dropping motorcycle trip to the Northern most province of Vietnam, Ha Giang. I have been hearing many things about this formidable province ever since I first moved to Hanoi and was not about to leave the country without seeing it myself, so as it was my last vacation before the end of the school year, to Ha Giang I went. Along with one of my co-workers, my friend Kiley and her girlfriend and some other people I know from Hanoi and some other people who know the people I know from Hanoi plus my boyfriend.
Yes, I now have a boyfriend. This has not happened once since I started the blog which makes a lot of sense because I am quite a nomadic person and moving to new countries somewhat frequently does not always make for the perfect relationship. Well, I have now found someone who shares the same interest in travel as me and is open to moving new places with me as well. I'm gonna give you some fast facts about him.
He is Irish and named, Lee. It took me nearly a month to understand him with ease after he first moved here, but now I know all the Irish jargon and his accent is much more manageable. It has even been Americanized a bit just like my accent has changed as well. I would have never noticed, but when I go back to America, my friends always do.
He is 25, which is three years younger than me.
I brought my parents to his cousin's (my good friend's) wedding in Ireland this past summer and they got to meet his entire family, which consists of one older brother and two younger sisters plus mom and dad. Our parents got along splendidly and they had a good time in Ireland.
He is also a teacher here in Hanoi and works at a different international school than me.
He is into sports and plays Gaelic football and soccer.
Anyways, that is Lee. I imagine he will be in most of my blogs from now on. We have already been dating a year and have gone to five countries together: Vietnam, Thailand, Philippines, Croatia and Ireland. Plus we have stood and looked into China together from a lookout point in Ha Giang, which leads us back to the bike trip.
We took an overnight bus from Hanoi to Ha Giang. These are awesome because they are tiny little pod-beds instead of normal seats. You stick you legs and feet down in a little cubby that actually goes under the person in front of you and then you can lean your seat back to a sleeping position or stay sitting up right. These buses have three rows of these (two on the sides by the windows and one down the middle plus there is a second level that is about head-height that you can climb up to with the tiny built in ladders provided. This photo is not from that exact bus, but from a different trip, similar bus.
Once on the bus we get organized with blankets and start drinking some beers after happily noting a bathroom is located at the back of the bus. Soon all the "beds" are full, but more Vietnamese are getting on the bus. They proceed to lay down in the aisles that are comfortably padded and not dirty because everyone is required to take their shoes off at the entrance of the bus and put them in a small bag. So now, the bus is literally as full as it can be with everyone being able to lie down.
I soon have to pee before the bus has even left the station so I step over some people carefully placing my feet on the bottom rungs of all the ladders and make the final stretching step into the bathroom. I pee (nothing more) and then search for the flush. I press it, but no result. I didn't think much of it, as most toilets in Vietnam are to be desired and I have peed in way worse circumstances and in more broken toilets. So, I leave and strategically step back to my pod.
Soon after, my friend Kiley also gets up to go to the bathroom, but while she is moving the box of waters out of the way that is purposely placed in front of the door (the box which I stepped on/over and didn't even notice or take it as a sign), someone yells from the front of the bus (the driver), "No, no NO! Can not!" I now realize that the toilet is out of commission and that I need to stop drinking these beers if I am going to have to wait for the bus to pull over to make a bathroom break. My friend Kiley pees anyway, knowingly playing the foreigner card or just blatantly not caring, and then soon the bus sets off.
Eventually, without too much difficulty, I was able to fall asleep in the little pod and miraculously woke up once there. The perfect travel. However, the bus arrived to Ha Giang at 4:30 AM, which was an extremely confusing situation. I woke up when the subtle blue bus lights came on, but none of my friends were awake. About half of the bus had alighted already and the rest were all fast asleep. This made me wonder if we were at our final destination or not. I looked around and saw a bus station which told me that we had arrived, but why wasn't the driver waking everyone up? Finally my friend Kiley checked Google Maps and it said we were in Ha Giang, so the eight of us slowly meander off of the bus half delirious half uncertain still about the remaining 15 people sound asleep. Maybe they are allowed to just sleep until the morning on the bus, which we may have done if we realized that was an option. The bus driver honestly was giving zero fucks about getting the people off of the bus. We hopped in two cabs and checked in to a guesthouse until morning.
The plan for Day 1 was to drive from Ha Giang to Dong Van. It was about 140k. Sorry I no longer function in miles. Anyways, once awake the first thing we had to do was organize our motorcycles from Johnny, the guy we had called a week earlier to reserve them and who came on a recommendation from multiple friends. His place was right next door, which was not done by accident. Most of the girls rented motorbikes, but Lee, Kiley and I had reserved motorcycles. So as I was having a strong Vietnamese drip coffee across the street, Lee and I were scoping out which bike would be whose.
Kiley was learning how to drive a manual that day, which was quite ambitious and impressive, but she did great and was comfortable almost right away. I took one look at the available bikes and assumed Lee would get the massive orange bike as I probably couldn't even reach the ground if sat on it, but to my surprise the shorter, less intimidating bike was the faster of the two so Lee got the black bike, which was 180cc and I got the Orange Monster, which was 150cc. (I could touch the ground, but just my toes; I could not be flat-footed.) This bike was not a certain type of bike. I think Johnny just used many different parts from other bikes and kind of made a Frankenbike out of it, but it was awesome. It had thick tires with great treads perfect for the mountain roads, so I could go over any bumps or potholes with ease by just standing up and riding right over them.
After we all strap our backpacks to the back of our bikes, the nine of us set off. We had met my co-worker, Tamir, in Ha Giang as he drove his own Motorcycle up from Hanoi - so now we are nine.
We didn't all stay together the whole time because people drive at different speeds, but if there was ever a turn or anything tricky the lead person would stop and wait for everyone to catch up. Right away the scenery was stunning. I expected it to maybe be a little boring the first day, but no. There were already mountains crowded all around us staring down, threatening to fold right over and swallow the tiny road we were attached to like ants. But we could also see distant mountains looming off in the distance awaiting to be discovered in the next turn or pass.
Vietnam and (Nothern) Southeast Asia in general have very a specific type of mountain that I have never seen anywhere else which are so strikingly beautiful. There is always a sense of surrealism while existing as a tiny speck amongst them; unworthy of their presence, but yet they are a powerful force that still exhibits a sense of humble wisdom as if you are the honored guest. They still hold secrets that have yet to be exposed by tourism or photography. This makes you feel as if you alone have driven these roads and every turn a new gift to be unwrapped with your name on it.
The mountains are all entirely green. There is no rocky or snow covered tips and the luscious vibrant green covers everything. Sometimes clouds or fog will block the tips, but this is only welcome as it adds to the fantastical landscape spread out in every direction. But, the most unique part about these mountains is how jagged they are. The rises can be skinny and individually rising out of a valley into harsh pointed peaks and the best part is that they are never ending. Layers and layers of jagged green mountains can be seen in every direction.
This proved true for all four days in Ha Giang province. Unfortunately the pictures I have just do not do it justice. I am unsure if my memories even do it justice. Only being there, lost in a sea of green, surrounded by neon rice paddies, happy farmers and waving children is the only true way to perceive the mountains in all their glory and grant them the respect they deserve.
