Rather than try and arrange things coherently in this entry, I’m just going to string together some stories from my time on the road. Click on to read about getting lost looking for a cave, some small things I really like about biking, and the best way to get from Hue to Hoi An in Vietnam. If you’d prefer to read about candy, might want to skip this one and come back for the next one, because there’s more sweat than sweets here!

The road between Vientienne and Savannakhet in Laos meanders along the Mekong River for close to 400 km, occasionally providing glimpses of a relaxed river life for a few minutes, but mostly just a never-ending procession of dry rice fields, small and friendly towns, and lots and lots of waving, smiling “Sabadee” kids. These are the sort of towns where you stop for a chicken fried rice lunch, and get pulled into the traditional Laos “Woman’s Day” holiday - celebrated, apparently, with glass upon glass of free Beerlao, dancing, and karaoke with middle-aged Laos women. Every few kilometers stands press sugarcane for one quarter to make a sweet and energizing juice. The land is tranquil and friendly and, dare I say, a teeny bit boring. For this reason, I decided to take a slight detour to the famous Kong Lo cave, to get away from the flat river route and see some of Central Laos.

Based on my internet sources, this cave expedition looked pretty simple - just turn off the highway and go straight for 70 kilometers! I can handle straight. Of course, I failed to double-check the internet directions (after all, everything on the Internet is 100% factually correct!) and didn’t actually ever get around to buying a “map” for finding this cave. Maps, quite frankly, are expensive… and unnecessary when I have the INTERNET.

So, a few days ride from Vientienne, I turned left off the highway. My directions had mentioned a “killer climb” that ended 33 km into the ride but neglected to mention exactly when it started, so I was hyper-sensitive that every swell in the road was the start of a monster climb that would leave be begging for mercy. Nothing like going up an imperceptibly small hill and imagining it as only the beginning of a hellacious 25 kilometer climb. Fortunately, these were not the mountains of Luang Prabang and the “killer climb” was actually very manageable and only a few kilometers long - and of course incredibly scenic, with staggering limestone cliffs dotting the scenery and rising up between curves, trees blocking the sun and the buzzing of crickets and biting of mosquitoes providing that “jungle ambiance.”

Anyway, the best part of going up is, of course, coming down, and I was only too happy to speed down the curving road like a madman, grinning and gripping my brakes to avoid flying off the hill like ET. I love going downhill… the only problem is it takes approximately 1/10 the time to go down as to go up, so only too soon I was back on flat land, entering a valley town where all the residents called out the cave name and suggested staying in the guesthouse. But no! I still had 40 kilometers to go, according to my trusty internet, so after a quick stop for water and “Sabadee!” I head back on the road.

Only of course, to hit a second, much more difficult hill that my directions were worryingly silent about. Furthermore, rather than offering the shelter and sounds of the jungle, this hill is marred by an absolute lack of shade (why hello there burnt arms!) and the growl of endless bulldozers heading down the mountains to build a new dam. Well, eventually I did make it to the lookout tower at the top, where I staggered off my bike, my shirt drenched in sweat and my legs weak from the climb. Sitting in the shade of the tower was a perfectly coiffed Laos family, fresh and clean in the midday heat. Needless to say, I think I shocked them… especially when they ascertained that I had climbed the hill by myself! Traveling alone! They laughed at my sweaty shirt and hairy arms and then offered me some of their lunch: deep-fried chicken heads and sticky rice! I enjoyed the sticky rice but left the crunchy beaks and brains for the locals.

After another glorious downhill stretch, I arrived in my planned destination just as school was getting out for the day. Kids streamed past me piled on gearless bicycles, umbrellas protecting the girls from the shade and everyone in identical crisp white shirts. This was all against a backdrop of green rice paddies and limestone karsts and absolutely stunning. However, I was more worried about the fact that the promised guesthouse seemed non-existent than taking a picture. After all, my INTERNET said there was a guesthouse… why was I just getting blank looks when I asked about it? Even riding up and down the road, checking for the kilometer marker where the guesthouse supposedly lay was useless - and all of the children assured me that there was no “bahn pak” there. Just one another 30 kilometers down the road! Perfect, as the sun was already setting…

Eventually, I did catch a bus to a guesthouse, and found a motorcycle rider with an extra map. Imagine my happiness when I discovered that the instruction to “go straight 80 kilometers” had only put me some 50 kilometers off-course… This called for a change in plans, so I abandoned the cave idea and decided to just loop back south to Savannakhet via a secondary road and see what Laos is like “off the beaten track.” After all, especially with biking, it’s much more about the journey than the destination. Of course, that didn’t stop me from buying a map the next time I saw one for sale! (Oh, and as for how Laos is off the highways? The correct answer is “bumpy.”)

***

After a break in Savannakhet and a quick run to Bangkok to visit my sister, I decided to head east towards Vietnam. This part of Laos is also Ho Chi Minh Trail territory and was heavily bombed during the war, with occasional craters dotting the countryside and remnants of bridges and banks. One town I went to, a few km off the main road, was mostly relocated post-war, and it was amazing today how peaceful and bucolic and beautiful the small village still there was. The streets were full of butterflies and the only hint of violence was when one would suicide-bomb into my bike. Everyone, as everywhere else in Laos, was very friendly - lots of little kids yelling out “HELLO BYEBYEBYEBYE” and even older people, alive during the war, smiled at the farang crazily biking through the area.

After those last few days in Laos, I crossed the border to Vietnam. I originally didn’t plan on going here, as I’d heard the people could be a little more “entrepreneurial” ie bloodthirsty about extracting money from tourists. However, so far I’ve had a great time, especially riding my bike: I raced two little boys on bicycles and then gave them cookies at the end - they were yelling “Tank you very much, OREEEOOOS” - very cute. Later that day I waved hello to this old woman in the emblematic conical straw hat, smoking a cornhusk pipe and she nearly dropped the pipe out of shock, then she just had this huge gap-toothed smile and waved back - like she was 1) shocked to see me and 2) even more shocked that I’d actually waved. When I got thirsty I stopped at this tiny little store that just sold a few kinds of drinks and got a 20 minute lesson in Vietnamese from the children there.

It’s this sort of interaction that I really like about cycling. I feel like in one day of biking I actually meet more local people than in a whole week of backpacking, and generally the people I meet aren’t cynical about tourism yet. It’s kept me from getting too cynical myself. This, of course, is in addition to the actual physical exercise of biking which has grown on me over the last two months. I’m even starting to, if not like, at least appreciate hills!

***

The road between Hue and Hoi An in Vietnam is famously beautiful. Passing along beautiful, clean beaches and mist-capped mountains, jungles and small market towns, bright green rice paddies worked by women in those conical straw hats, I shared the highway with water buffalo and mooing cows (and of course one million motorbike drivers.) I overnighted in Lang Co, a small beach town not mentioned in my Lonely Planet. As a result, I had 2 kilometers of perfectly maintained beach to myself. I’ve discovered I’m not really a beach person, but it was still pretty incredible to be walking on the beach by myself as the sun was setting.

The next day was a big one for me - the Hoi Van pass - a 10 km climb to about 500m (ouch!) which, for those math majors out there, means an average incline of about 5%. Still easier than Luang Prabang, but quite a bit harder than the flat coastal routes I’d been taking lately! Fortunately, the entire length of those 10 km overlooks the curving beach of Lang Co, which was excellent for my morale. As I slowly (very slowly) pedaled up, I could just look down and see a great view at any time. I did make it to the top eventually (slower than I wanted to!) and was greeted by a small army of saleswomen trying to get rid of water, coconuts, souvenirs, and who knows what else at two or three times the going rate!

This overcharging occurs regularly at tourist sites, and can be a little annoying. It’s definitely something other travelers complain about, but luckily 90% of my purchases are NOT at places that commonly see white faces, so I’ve managed to avoid the brunt of it. Yet another reason biking is superior to bussing! Oh, and I still had plenty of water left so I opted to just explore the top of the pass and then ride down the hill to Danang and cheap water and sugarcane juice in glory.

Then, on to Hoi An! I took a side road… or attempted to take a side road, and ended up spending an extra hour meandering through rice paddies and small towns on “roads” that could barely fit a motorbike. Eventually I did get my bike pointed in the right direction and arrived in Hoi An with just enough time to find a hostel. It definitely wasn’t my favorite destination, as it was a little too full of farangs (hmm, I’m not sure how I’ll adjust to being back in the US!) but the road to get there was a lot of fun!

***

AND… whew! I have lots more to type - like about a little (failed) expedition into the center of Vietnam that ended with my being politely kicked out of a city and sent back 80 km due to my being a foreigner, and then discovering the best way to go uphill - hitching a ride on a passing motorbike! But I think I’ll leave that for another day. So remember, always bring your map!