Buon Ma Thuot to Kon Tum - 255 km

View Larger Map

This was a high mileage day, so we got up extra early, saddled up, and hit the road.  255 km, I estimated, was going to be nine hours of riding.  I estimated wrong.  My calculations were based on paved roads.  Not this rutted out, gravel strewn, water logged construction site they called a highway.

Potholes were about hub deep, and large enough to be a fish farm.

And to add insult to injury - riding a motorbike without a windscreen took its toll.  I had a beetle of some sort fly into my shirt, and lodge itself into my belly button.  At first, I felt a small stinging/itching sensation, and finally stopped a few miles later.  Took my gloves off, and basically smashed it to pieces and pressed it further into my belly button.  In the end, I basically had to scoop (what I hope) was the rest of it out with the motorbike key.

After seemingly endless miles of dirt, gravel (which is terrible and scary as hell on this motorbike), and the rear suspension constantly bottoming out - it finally happened.  Another part broke.  I knew something was about to let go, but I wasn't quite sure what it would be this time.  I had mentally gone through a checklist of all the parts that have been replaced. BAMN. One good pop, and we were down for the count.  Chain had popped loose, got caught in the rear sprocket - twisted the chain and chipped the sprocket.

With a limited amount of tools, all I could do was tighten the chain, and find the next mechanic.  No luck - chain popped off again.  Pushed it downhill, to a residence, and asked if they had any more tools, or could take me to a mechanic. But first, we inspected the bike, and straightened out as much as we could.

And this is what restores my faith in humanity.  They assembled as many tools as they had, and started working on the bike.  And these were complete strangers, whom we had met mere minutes ago.

After showing them that we needed new parts, Grampa got dressed, and took his own motorbike and told me to follow him to the mechanic down the road.  And he helped explained what was wrong, and I told the mechanic not to fix the chain, but just to get a new one, and new sprocket set.  Grampa waited there with me for over an hour as the mechanic went to fetch the new parts.

Here's the family - which we apparently are a part of now.

Left to right: Margaret, Daughter, Gramma, Grandaughter, Grampa.

We wanted to give them a parting gift, but didn't have anything on us.  We tried to give them money, but they wouldn't accept it.  Grampa saw that we had a couple of spare bungee cords, and he looked like he wanted - so I gestured him to keep it.  They said there was rain off in the distance, and said we should eat dinner with them, and stay over night.  We obviously could not accept yet another gift, and decided to make up some ground.

Losing over an hour and half, Kon Tum was not looking likely.  So we stopped in Pleiku (46 km short of Kon Tum).  That was a great decision, as it was dark, and no more than 5 minutes after checking into a motel - the downpour began.

The best part about this unexpected stop was that we found this really restaurant that sold delicious Hai Nam chicken - a friend variation of the Hong Kong Style Hai Nan chicken.  I could have easily eaten two plates.  The owner was really friendly, and brought us more rice and vegetables.

Heading into our actual destination, this is what our little rolling motorhome looks and sounds like.  110cc of raw power!

The route between Pleiku and Kon Tum was beautiful - lots of green rice paddies, rubber trees.  All quite lush.

Rice paddies as far as the eye can see.

A required selfie, of course.

And the mandatory Vietnamese coffee break.  Can't get enough of this stuff.  $0.50 goes a long way here.

Here is the flood plain, next to levy as we entered Kon Tum.

Margaret found this place called Eva Cafe, in her blog readings of Kon Tum.  The place is pretty neat - really artsy feel to it, with many of the pieces either built or designed by the owner.  

Lots of outdoor seating.  I found a nice quite corner and passed out for an hour.

They even have a tree house.

One of the local specialties is Cà Phê Trung - coffee with egg. It's sweet egg froth, almost like meringue that hasn't set on a lemon meringue pie.  It was delicious, albeit a bit spendy - $2.50.

Here's the owner - he had quite the conversation with Margaret on how to build a better fish pond that didnt' leak.

Kon Tum has a very unique history - The French had set up a colony here, with a heavy dose of Catholicism.  The missionaries traces back to the mid 1800's, and their legacy can still be seen today.

Wooden Catholic Church built by the French.

Even more Catholic Churches.

Right across the street from the white and yellow church above, here is where they held their outdoor mass.

Another interesting thing about Kon Tum is the large number of ethnic minority villages around town.  If they don't have a Vietnamese flag up front, you'll need special permission from the local police to visit them.  Here's their traditional ceremonial meeting house.  Given the pitch of that roof, you'd think it snows here!

Here are the villagers, kids included, as they process and package the vegetables planted out in the fields.  

In the middle of the day, even the cows take a break under the shade of a tree.

This is the Cau Konklor Bridge - 292 meters long, 4.5 meters wide.

This is NOT an old bridge - it was completed in 1994.  Seems like a coat of paint would go a long way.

Of course, no trip is complete without a great meal.  We found this place called Quan Com, on 572 Nguyen Hue.  Their specialty? Why, roast pork!

As you can see, that was a great spread.  

With all the different side trips, we ended up staying 3 days here in Kon Tum.

Lak Lake to Buon Ma Thuot, Vietnam - 54 km

View Larger Map

Due to logistics of our ride, our next stop to Buon Ma Thuot (BMT) was only a 54 km ride.  So, in Vietnamese riding time, that would take two straight hours of riding at a good pace.  (Out here, you bookmark 30 kph on average, and that’s moving at a good clip.)

That resulted in a lazy morning in Lak Lake, as we headed out toward BMT.  On the way, we stopped for lunch in a fairly large village for pho, a basic Vietnamese soup noodle that fills you up, and can be eaten for breakfast, lunch, or dinner – which is genius I tell you.

Here’s our noodle shop.  Typically we like to use crowd sourcing to find our restaurant.  Unfortunately, we had chosen to eat at an odd hour, so there was no one else eating to help us identify a place to eat.  (Typically, with crowds, that means there is high food turnover, meaning there is less food sitting around, and reducing your chances of food poisoning.)

After eating, and a quick pit stop out back, we couldn’t help notice the use of firewood for cooking.  Even in this modern age, lots of people still use wood fires as a primary heat source.

Here’s where the broth is cooked to all its beefy goodness for hours over the fire.

Even up front, where the smaller pot is used to finish the noodle soup, it’s still fueled by fire – this time by a charcoal stove.

Back on the motorbike for just another 30 minutes, it started to drizzle.  From past experience, we knew what this meant – torrential downpour and flooding within the next 1-2 minutes.  A quick check to the right revealed a hammock stand serving iced coffee (café sua da) and sugar cane drinks, along with plenty of hammocks.  This, by default (and luck) became our next stop while we waited out the storm.

The proprietors of the stand, as with nearly all the locals we have met here in Vietnam, were very generous.  They probably do not get a lot of tourists stopping by, so they knew that language was going to be a barrier.  Nonetheless, they still offered us slices of delicious jackfruit (so far, my favorite fruit in SE Asia – and a pity we can get this back home).  Needless to say, I was happy tornado in a trailer park, and graciously accepted seconds when she offered me more.  I had my coffee, my jackfruit, and my hammock.  That, my friends, is the life.

Margaret made me sit up for this photo.  Before that, I was gorging myself on jack fruit while laying comfortably in my hammock.

How all truck rest should be back home - lined with hammocks and cold drinks.

As the rains petered off, we made our way to the hotel that Mr. Chan had recommended, and where him and Oliver were staying.  Running into them in the lobby, we asked to join them for dinner, and they were okay with having a plus 2.  Mr. Chan found us a fresh spring roll place in town:

There’s Margaret, with our new friends, Oliver and Mr. Chan! The best part about traveling is meeting new friends.  Cheers!

And here’s the spread.  All the food was great – so great, in fact, that we ordered seconds.

Walking back through town, we couldn’t help notice more propaganda. This time, in the shape of a tank, in the main traffic circle in town.

Thinking if I can't hot wire that tank, and let 'er rip down the street....

Da Lat to Lak Lake (Jun Village), Vietnam – 170 km

View Larger Map

It was an easy 170 km ride out of Da Lat to Lak Lake.  I was a bit hesitant to leave the fabulous weather (Read: Cool and Less Humid) that Da Lat offered.  That, and the breakfast spread.  Alas, we had to continue our trek up north.  

The ride out of Da Lat was easy.  The roads were decently paved, with no road construction.  With only 170 km to cover, we had time to stop, take photos, and enjoy the day.

Many of the rivers here in Vietnam all appear to be very silty.  Not necessarily dirty, but high concentrations of brown silt.  Not sure if this is from improper resource management, but that looks like a lot of erosion somewhere upstream.

We thought the ride would be all downhill (literally) from Da Lat, since it was the central HIGHlands. That was the case, until our third hour into the ride.  Then, the road started climbing again, challenging the poor Honda.  By the time we crested the top of the hill, both the bike and the riders needed a break.  We stopped at an mediocre looking truck stop, and hoped to get some food that had not been sitting since yesterday.  To our surprise, it was one of the better meals we’ve had – a huge spread.  But even better than the food, was the view out of the window.  Perched on a hill top, we were able to see the entire valley we had just ridden up.  All the while enjoying our lovely meal.  That goes to show you should never judge a book by its cover.

That's the name of the restaurant.  Definitely stop by if you're ever in the area.  They've included a flag in case you miss the only restaurant at the top of the hill.

The lunchtime view from our truck stop dining experience.  Views of orchards and valleys in this scenic rolling landscape.

All fed, rested, and ready to cover more ground.  

We’ve learned that riding the motorbike takes lots of skill, patience, tenacity, and knowing when to take breaks. Reading other blogs, we found that other people have experienced the same excruciating pain of sitting on a saddle designed by the same person who sketched out medieval torture devices.  They had appropriately named this “N.B.S.,” which stood for Numb Butt Syndrome.

As we rounded a corner, we found a coffee and hammock stand, a pulled in.  Unknowingly, we had run into some new friends, Oliver and Mr. Chan of the Da Lat Easy Riders.  (More on them in the next entry.)  We chatted a bit at the hammock stand, traded stories, and talked about where our next stops were.

While planning our trip, Margaret had found a blog site that talked about a homestay in Lak Lake, just south of Dak Lak.  After doing some homework, we found that the homestay was arranged through Mr. Duc at Duc Mai Coffee in Lak Lake.  As luck would have it, Oliver and Mr. Chan were staying there as well.  They helped us reserve a room, and made dinner arrangements.

Continuing to Lak Lake, we came across a floating community just underneath a newly constructed bridge.

Floating villages along the river. May be a bit difficult to move during the low season, when the rivers and lakes are so low.

You can even see that they have garden plots in between the homes!

One of the few times we have a photo of the both of us together.  Thanks Oliver!

It was late afternoon when we rolled into Lak Lake.  We looked for Mr. Duc’s shop, Duc Mai Coffee all through town.  We thought it was on the main road through town.  After doing a few laps back and forth, we stopped to ask for directions.  Remember about smiling and nodding from earlier entries? Well, the same happened here, where the locals pointed us down the road, and said turn right.  A couple more turns, and we were right back where were started, no closer.  This time, we called Mr. Duc, and his son answered.  We gave the phone to the locals to describe where we were.  And luckily, he was able to come meet us, and we followed him to the Duc Mai Coffee.

Here is the elusive Duc Mai Coffee shop that took us over 45 minutes to find.

After checking in – Mr. Duc’s son took us down the road to this traditional longhouse.  He gave us two towels, and pointed to the mattresses on the floor, and told us this was where we were sleeping.  It was a really awkward situation, as we weren’t really introduced to the family members who lived there, what the customs were, do’s and don’t, etc.  So, all we could really say were “Hi” and “Hello” in passing.

Here's the longhouse where we spent the night.

Examples of other longhouses in the village.  Note the satellite dish!

Beautiful rice fields surround the village.  

The view of Lak Lake from behind the longhouse.  Evident in the photo, the lake was extremely low, as it was towards the end of dry season.  

On the way out the next morning, I had noticed that the rear end of the motorbike had started to make some glorious metal-on-metal noise.  After tightening every bolt, adjust the slack in the chain, nothing was left but the wheel bearing.  Off to the mechanic again.  After unbolting the rear wheel, the bearing had wallowed out the hub.  Originally, the “mechanic” was going to use a bear can as a shim, to keep the bearing from spinning. I said no way, you need to machine out the hub, and find an insert.  Well, that took two hours, but it looked more legitimate that the beer can shim.  $5 for the insert, machining, and new bearing.  As we were off.

You can see the "mechanic" working on making the shim - before I realized what he was doing and told him to stop.

Cat Tien National Park to Da Lat, Vietnam - 193 km

View Larger Map

Cat Tien National Park to Da Lat was decent haul, at 193 km.  Not only that, a 6,000 foot pass stands between these two places.  For an eight horsepower motorbike, the two of us, and our bags, it was quite the feat.  You could tell that the elevation was putting a hurting on our poor little 110cc bike – likely choking it down to 5 horsepower.  At this point, first and second gear was the norm.  It was a narrow, one and a half lane highway over the pass.  Which meant that two vehicles couldn't get past each other without the other one stopping and pulling off the road.  But dangerous passing doesn't just exist on the mountain roads - it's an epidemic everywhere.  Just look at this video below that shows a Vietnamese lady on the motorbike ahead of us nearly collides head-on with a bus passing another vehicle.

Due nearly all Vietnamese drivers seemingly all in a rush to get somewhere, we saw a truck hauling about 40,000 pounds of bricks in the ditch, and likely a bent front axle.  One of the dangers of overloaded trucks, excessive speed, blind corners, and likely not enough brakes. 

Once we cleared the pass, the road into Da Lat, highway QL 20 was such a great change of pace from the dusty, dirty roads. This was perfectly paved asphalt, smooth as silk. And it even had a motorbike lane to boot.   The last small grade into Da Lat, we started to notice that the flora had started to change.  We saw evergreen trees – something you would never associate with the hot, humid, tropical weather in SE Asia.

Da Lat is different from the rest of Vietnam. Part of the central highlands, the climate is actually quite palatable.   The highlands are known for growing coffee, avocados, strawberries, and artichokes. Who would have thought.

Evergreens, in Vietnam?

Artichokes!

We stayed at Dreams Hotel, owned and run by Mrs. Dung.  She is a wonderful woman, who speaks perfect English.  And the all you can eat breakfast spread? Simply awesome!

Walking around town, it never ceased to impress us with what people carried on motorbikes.  This one, sold gold fish!

Further down the street, I found this great example of an old Willy's, likely left over from the Vietnam War.

We wrapped up that day with a visit to the lake in Da Lat.  The area was quite westernized, as it even had pedal boats in the shape of swans.

After we finished exploring the town, we decided to head out of town for a day trip.  Taking a loop on highway TL 275, we found it was under heavy construction.  We've taken construction zones back home for granted, with cones, people directing traffic, etc.  Here, you're out to fend for yourself, with swinging excavators, no clear road markings, and rocks and rebar everywhere. 

After the construction, it was a great opportunity for a break from riding.  We had some local coffee at the Me Linh Coffee Plantation, complete with civets for special civet poop coffee.

Coffee shop overlooking the plantation.

Civets in their cages.

Here's the "pre-processed" coffee - that somewhat resemble chocolate peanut clusters.

Continuing on the counterclockwise loop, we went to look for Elephant Falls.  I had a rough idea where it was, but was not sure.  We kept riding, and tried asking for directions from the locals, which was not very helpful.  They just smiled, nodded, and pointed down the road...so we hoped for the best.  Eventually, we saw the sign for the falls, and turned in.  And also marked it on Google Maps.

It’s quite dangerous, really slippery, and the handrails look like a Rube Goldberg contraption.  Once you make it down, the views are quite spectacular.

From the bottom of the falls.

Walking towards the back of the falls!

Back in town, the food was quite good.  Margaret had found a place where the locals grille meat using the U-shaped clay roof tiles over charcoal.  That’s definitely a worthwhile stop.  It's called Quan An Cu Duc.

There's the roof tile, angled, so that the drippings run into the bowl.

Da Lat had heavy influence from France from its days as a colony.  This town was originally conceived as French resort  – evident from buildings all over town, including the historic train station.  This particular line is no longer used for long distance travel – only for tourists to get a ride up to see the temple.

Da Lat Train Station.

Margaret next to the locomotive.

Photo of the city from the top of a ridge. Note their version of the Eiffel Tower in the background.

It's been nearly a week since our motorbike went down.  Here are some photos of the damage.  We're still lucky we walked away from it.