Day 15: How to Cross the River?

• From – To: Thai Tam Motel – Bao Lac Sunny Homestay

• Distance: 87,2 km, 3:11h

• Routes: QL4C – DT217

• Accommodation: Bao Lac Sunny Homestay, Double room with A/C 12 Eur per night, no breakfast

Before departing from Dong Van, I decided to wash my Winner. Directly across from the motel was exactly what I needed – a Rua Xe. This sign indicates a place where Vietnamese people wash motorbikes. My Winner was treated to a blast from a local Karcher copy, a soapy sponge wash, another round of water, air from a compressor to blow water from hard-to-reach areas, and a final dry-off with a rag – they even wiped the wheels. This 15-minute service cost just 20K VND (0.80 EUR). They could have charged 100K (4 EUR) and I wouldn’t have thought it too much. But no – such work in Vietnam is valued at less than one euro. It’s hard for someone used to European prices to believe this is possible.

Past Dong Van, the road spirals upward, and after about 5 km, you reach the Ma Pi Leng mountain pass. Throughout my fifteen-day journey, I had seen many wonders, but here I was again, driving with my mouth agape, stopping wherever possible to soak in the breathtaking views. The road through Ma Pi Leng rises to an altitude of 1.500 meters, with mountains soaring a kilometer into the sky on one side and a kilometer-deep river valley on the other. It's no wonder this part of the Ha Giang loop is acclaimed as the most spectacular. It's an unmissable experience.

A narrow, winding road descends to the river, where you can take a boat trip. I was advised against it, as the boat gets crowded with local tourists heading for a half-hour photo session near steep gorges, followed by a café visit only accessible for a fee. Not interested in such a scripted experience, I decided to continue on the main road.

Most Ha Giang loop travelers continue on the QL4C road past Meo Vac. Danny suggested I take a left before Meo Vac and head to Bao Lac via the DT217 road. He mentioned it would be quiet, offering splendid views of karst mountains, but the highlight was crossing the river on a bamboo raft after 25 km. Danny's advice to 'think outside the loop' was truly valuable, but why didn't he mention that there was no road before and after the bamboo raft? This was far more 'outside the loop' than I had anticipated.

Initially, Google Maps led me to a dammed river with no ferry in sight. It was a picturesque spot, so I stopped for some exercise and photos. Checking the map again, it directed me back up the hill and to the left. When I got there, all I found was a Vietnamese yard. I had turned too sharply... I drove on until the path became so narrow that I had to backtrack about 20 meters on a mountain slope to turn around. I got back to the main road and, through Google Translate, asked locals for help – how does one cross the river? Surprisingly, they pointed to a path that was invisible to me. It looked more like a footpath. But they insisted I go that way...

The muddy path required an off-road motorbike, not a Winner with tires meant for asphalt. And certainly, an experienced rider. The first hundred meters were somewhat manageable. The next hundred meters made me realize that I wasn't controlling the motorbike; rather, the bike and the terrain were dictating my movements. After the previous day's rain, the mud in one turn hadn't dried properly. My front wheel hit a deep rut, and before I could react, I was thrown onto my side, with the 122 kg Winner (plus the weight of fuel and my belongings) pinning down my left leg.

I was in first gear at the time of the fall, moving at a minimal speed, and thankfully, the meter-high grass on the sides cushioned the impact. My concern was for the motorbike lying on top of me and my trapped leg. Sturdy boots and trekking pants protected me from serious scrapes and injuries. Had I been in shorts and flip-flops, like many foreign tourists, I would have certainly sustained injuries to my left ankle or thigh.

This was my second significant mishap in my 23-day journey across Northern Vietnam (the first being the climb to the Bamboo Forest in Mu Chang Chai). I was relieved that it ended well. I lifted the Winner and continued my descent to the river, wondering what other adventures awaited me. Upon finally reaching the river, I realized the journey was worthwhile. The bamboo raft was on the other side, with a ten-year-old boy standing on it, pulling himself toward my bank by tugging on a rope stretched across the river. The scene seemed straight out of a movie (I can't recall which one), and I had to pinch myself to believe I was really there.

The river crossing cost 20K VND (0.80 EUR), and I gave the boy an extra 20K note as a tip. Two paths ascended the hill on the other side; the boy pointed to the right one, and there I was again... on a road that barely existed! This went on for about 5 kilometers until I reached the top of a mountain. But even there, I found no proper road – for 10 or more kilometers, I trudged along a bumpy mud track. Eventually, the mud gave way to gravel, and later I reached a new bridge under construction, beyond which the road improved, allowing me to shift into third gear. Finally, I hit a fresh concrete section and realized that DT217 on this side of the river was under renovation. If the construction continues, in a year or two, it will be a very decent road. But until then, anyone considering this route should be prepared for such adventures.

With 20 km left to Bao Lac, I noticed locals on scooters wearing plastic ponchos. Deciding not to wait for the rain to start, I stopped to don my poncho and shoe covers. As expected, it started pouring a few kilometers later.

It rained all evening, so after arriving at Bao Lac Sunny Homestay, I showered, changed, and went for a brief walk under an umbrella. The journey from Dong Van had been long, and darkness was falling. I decided to visit a barber to groom my two-weeks-untended beard. At the first barbershop, two women shook their heads – no, they don’t do beards. But nearby, I found another shop where a young man was actually excited about my unkempt beard. Through gestures, I communicated my preferences. In 15 minutes, he had trimmed my beard, evened out my sideburns, cut around my ears, and shaved my neck. When I asked about the price, I was astounded – he only asked for 30K VND (1.20 EUR).

Having gotten a haircut so cheaply, I contemplated finding Bao Lac's best restaurant and ordering the most expensive dish. But then I heard a shout from above – on the second floor of a street-side restaurant, a group of young Vietnamese waved me over, inviting me to join them. On the table was a steaming Lau, and the youth quickly filled my glass with 'happy water.' Then came a toast... to Lenin!

I asked why I was hearing such a toast for not the first time. Was there a joke I wasn’t aware of? Why Lenin? Three guys and two girls explained in understandable, though not fluent, English – they love Lenin. With all their heart! Lenin is a symbol of freedom for the Vietnamese. Without Lenin (and Ho Chi Minh, whom they called Lenin's pupil), Vietnam might still be a colony of France or China, and the Vietnamese wouldn't be the free people they are today.

Everything I said about Lenin sounded to them like jokes from a quirky tourist from an unknown country (only one of the three teachers I spent the evening with over beer in Son La knew Lithuania). Initially, I stubbornly tried to correct their views on Lenin. But I quickly realized that I wouldn't change their minds in one evening, especially when they firmly believe that Lenin brought them freedom.

When I stood up to leave, the group thanked me for the enjoyable evening and insisted on paying for me. It was the second time unknown locals had covered my dinner. As I've said, one of Vietnam's marvels is its people's immense hospitality. And it doesn't matter that I speak nonsense about their Lenin.