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E-bike expedition part 4 Vietnam - Online diary 2016-2017

Mouse baby as a marker pen – In the fairytale world on the Mekong

N 10°41'50.7'' E 105°07'35.9''
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    Date:
    26.03.2017

    Day: 635

    Country:
    Vietnam

    Province:
    An Giang

    Location:
    Châu Đốc

    Latitude N:
    10°41’50.7”

    Longitude E:
    105°07’35.9”

    Daily kilometers:
    74 km

    Total kilometers:
    23,208 km

    As the crow flies:
    61 km

    Average speed:
    22.1 km/h

    Maximum speed:
    32.6 km/h

    Travel time:
    3:20 hrs.

    Soil condition:
    Asphalt / gravel

    Maximum height:
    14 m

    Total altitude meters:
    70.321 m

    Altitude meters for the day:
    97 m

    Sunrise:
    06:00 a.m.

    Sunset:
    6:10 pm

    Temperature day max:
    37°C

    Departure:
    8:00

    Arrival time:
    1:00 p.m.

(Photos of the diary entry can be found at the end of the text).


LINK TO THE ITINERARY

In the morning we are glad to be able to leave the grotty room. We enjoy the pleasant early morning temperature and continue our journey through the beautiful Mekong Delta. Even at this early hour there is a lot of activity. Perhaps the people living here are also taking advantage of the tolerable temperatures to get their work done before the coming midday heat?

The small road in front of us is suddenly closed. A contingent of police officers tries to regulate the traffic. Progress is slow until we see the completely demolished moped lying next to a track gate. A large pool of blood around a lifeless body bears witness to a tragic accident. A policeman tries to draw a marker on the hot asphalt. As I slowly get closer and realize what he is holding in his hand, my eyes almost pop out of my head in shock. It is a baby mouse whose tiny body he squeezes onto the road to draw a line with the little blood. Surely the policeman is not a pervert who prefers a mouse to a piece of chalk for his marking work. It is more likely that he has forgotten his tools for measuring accidents in the office and is now helping himself to a living being. However, I will never understand why he was given a mouse instead of a pen.

After the accident site, we follow a road whose residents have planted beautiful, currently blooming flowers in their small gardens. In contrast to the mostly dirty, dreary forecourts of all the houses in South Vietnam, it looks really well maintained here. The Delta inhabitants continue to give us a friendly wave. Sometimes we stop at a roadside store to buy fresh water for our empty hydration packs.

At a crossroads, I’m not sure which direction to take. I ask a moped rider. “I’ll show them the way!” he says and darts ahead. When we reach a mighty arm of the Mekong River, the road ends. “We have to take the ferry,” explains the friendly Vietnamese man and pays for the tickets. When I want to give him the money, he vehemently refuses. “I’m happy when I can do something good for them,” he says with a laugh and rolls with us onto the steel planks of the old barge. On the other side, he shows us how to continue, says goodbye and disappears into the traffic.

Suddenly a never-ending line of rickshaws comes towards us. Each rickshaw driver carries a massively overweight woman or man who is either laughing loudly, shouting something at each other or taking photos of each other. “They’re crusaders,” says Tanja. “Crusaders?” I wonder. “Yes, didn’t you see the huge cruise ship on the crossing?” “Nope, I was probably looking in the other direction the whole time.” “The ship sails under the American flag,” says Tanja, which in turn explains why the tourists suffer from insane obesity due to the overconsumption of fast food. I raise my hand to greet the foreigners. None of them notice us or react to the well-intentioned gesture. “They’re in their world. They see white people on the ship all the time. We don’t stand out with our bikes and dog,” explains Tanja.

We turn into a side street that leads us along a small branch of the Mekong. As if we had passed through the gateway to another, long-gone world, we suddenly find ourselves in a pristine Vietnam. “It must have looked like this here two hundred years ago,” I say enthusiastically. Green, sprawling trees bend their sometimes mighty branches over the narrow, unpaved path. People sit in front of their wooden huts, drinking tea, chatting or discussing. Others lie in their hammocks and watch the goings-on in front of their little house. Some are eating lunch or watching an old television. In front of some huts is a cattle shed made of bamboo or wood, where the local inhabitants keep their greatest treasure, a cattle or water buffalo.

Longboats chug up and down the tributary of the Mekong. Every few hundred meters, a powerful diesel engine rattles to pump water from the river to the nearby fields. Wooden or steel suspension bridges cross the river at irregular intervals. Mopeds, loaded with everything imaginable and unimaginable, use this opportunity to get to the other side. As the small track is not on the map, I navigate more or less by feel. One reason why we often change sides of the river to see if and how we can continue on the other bank. At a canopy under which three men are chopping up a huge, once beautiful tropical tree, I ask for directions again. The surprised carpenters point to one of the bridges on the other side. I say thank you and jet onto the construction hanging over the river. On the other side, the road descends steeply and ends in a tight bend. I’m waiting for Tanja. She also drives down the sloping bridge. As she comes around the bend, she is very slow. She loses her balance and can no longer hold her heavy bike, which tips onto its side. Miraculously, nothing happened to Tanja. Apart from a few abrasions on the saddlebags, the bike didn’t suffer any damage either. “I’m glad you’re all right,” I say with relief, and we continue our journey through the Vietnamese fairytale world of the Mekong Delta.

At 37 degrees in the shade, we reach our accommodation completely sweaty and tired, but safe and sound. Because we have made faster progress than planned, we have a few days in the interesting town of Châu Đốc before we tackle the last 100 kilometers to the border town of Hà Tiên. And so an unforgettable time for us in this diverse, tragic and at the same time beautiful country comes to an end…



If you would like to find out more about our adventures, you can find our books under this link.











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