The finger circles over the chicken drumsticks like an eagle
N 11°42'38.2'' E 107°08'21.4''
Date:
21.03.2017
Day: 630
Country:
Vietnam
Province:
Bình Phước
Location:
Ngã Ba Sao Bọng
Latitude N:
11°42’38.2”
Longitude E:
107°08’21.4”
Daily kilometers:
90 km
Total kilometers:
22,829 km
As the crow flies:
45 km
Average speed:
20.4 km/h
Maximum speed:
55.6 km/h
Travel time:
4:12 hrs.
Soil condition:
Asphalt / gravel
Maximum height:
350 m
Total altitude meters:
69.469 m
Altitude meters for the day:
846 m
Sunrise:
05:55
Sunset:
6:02 pm
Temperature day max:
34°C
Departure:
7:00 a.m.
Arrival time:
2:00 pm
(Photos of the diary entry can be found at the end of the text).
UuuuuuuuUUUUUUUUUHHHHHHHH! UuuuuuuuuUUUUUUUUUUHHHHHHHH!, the calls of the gibbons ring out for us for the last time today. We have been packing our belongings into our bike bags since 5:00 a.m., fortifying ourselves with a muesli breakfast and loading our bikes. The first rays of sun peek through the jungle trees and vaporize the remnants of the night’s tropical rain. The humidity is probably 100 percent, at least that’s what it feels like, because if I had a sharp knife I could cut the air into pieces.
It is difficult for us to have to leave Cat Tien National Park. Although we spent ten days here with our notes and a few tours, there is still plenty for us to discover. Nevertheless, we absolutely have to get going now in order to travel to Cambodia in time on our expiring visas.
Before we get on our bikes, the owners and staff of Bamboo Lodge gather for a farewell photo together. Xuan hands us two large bottles of water. “So you don’t die of thirst,” he says with a laugh. In the rear-view mirror, we see the entire crew waving after us. “A lovely stay,” exclaims Tanja. “Fantastic,” I reply. Just a few hundred meters further on, Google Maps shows me a small, inconspicuous path that runs between two huts. “That’s the shortcut Xuan told me about,” I say. It goes over a narrow suspension bridge, through fields and a large tree plantation. Each of the trees is full of overripe fruit that I don’t know. The sweet and sour scent of the fruit ripening in the heat is in the air and accompanies us for many kilometers. The small path leads us over a few hills. There is virtually no traffic here. The Dong Nai River, which forms the natural border to Cat Tien National Park, appears on our left from time to time.
“Look, that’s a huge plantation full of rubber trees,” I draw Tanja’s attention to the trees standing in rows. “There are so many beehives!” she exclaims. I immediately apply the brakes. Beekeepers are busy extracting the honeycombs from the forest bees. “Xin chào” (hello) is how the friendly beekeepers greet me. “Xin chào”, I reply and ask if I can take a few photos. They laugh and are happy about my interest. They immediately offer me some of the sweet honey. I thank them and when I say goodbye they want to give me some of their golden honey. “No room in the panniers,” I try to explain. They nod their heads in understanding and wish us a safe journey. We cycle through a few small villages. It’s break time in one of the village schools. A crowd of children stand at the barbed wire fence and marvel at our bikes, but especially at Ajaci. “Hello! Hello Hello!” they shout enthusiastically. Before the whole school gets into an uproar, we get on our saddles and leave the school behind us to loud cheers. Then we reach the main road again, which takes us in an arc around the Cat Tien National Park and leads us to its other side in the east. Although it’s only 8:00 in the morning, we are already sweating profusely. “Man oh man, I thought the cold in China was exhausting, but I think the heat is even worse,” I moan during a short breather.
Once again, an approx. 900 meter high pass lies in our path. We groan upwards meter by meter. Suddenly the asphalt stops. The road becomes a red dirt track that seems to reflect the sun’s hot rays. “You thought there were no more mountains here?” says Tanja. “I thought so too. But what’s even worse are the endless holes,” I reply. Over the next 15 kilometers, we are given a good shake. “It’s a good thing we have full-suspension bikes,” says Tanja. “Oh yes, imagine if we had to cover this distance on the cheap bikes in the national park.” “I’d better not imagine that,” she gasps behind me.
After almost 90 kilometers we reach the village of Ngã Ba Sao Bọng. “There’s a motel over there,” I shout. “Hm, looks pretty easy. But I think we should stay,” Tanja suggests. “Yes, I agree with you. Hope they accept Ajaci.” We roll the bikes into the shade of a long canopy. “I’ll check out the store,” I say, putting my bike on the stand and walking through the open door. “Hello! Hallooo!”, I shout, as there is no one to be seen for miles around. Because some of the doors to the empty rooms are not locked, I take a look inside. “Simple but okay,” I say when I get back to Tanja. Suddenly a young man appears and greets us in a friendly manner. We get the room with air conditioning for just 200,000 dong (€8.22). Because Ajaci is accepted, we move into the small room.
It is already pitch dark. Secured with our headlamps, we walk along the dark roadside in search of a restaurant. Road trains thunder past, rumbling loudly. “That looks like a pub over there,” says Tanja. We enter the simple, well-frequented pub. Four out of five tables are occupied by heavily intoxicated men. Most of them bare-chested. They greet us with cheers. Two of them immediately jump up to shake our hands. The owner of the pub serves draught beer in large one-liter plastic containers. “How much is the beer?” I ask. “15,000 dong.” (€0.62) “Wow, that’s cheap,” whispers Tanja. “That’s right. If it tastes good, that’s certainly the reason for all the drunks around us.” We really do like the beer. Yes, I would say it’s the best beer we’ve had in Vietnam so far. Tanja orders a tofu dish, while I want grilled chicken drumsticks. We are just about to start eating when three of the drunken Vietnamese join us at the table. They immediately start shouting in our ears. Not that they are aggressive, quite the opposite. They try to break through the language barrier by shouting at us at extreme volume. Unfortunately, this doesn’t work, because despite the ringing of our eardrums, we still don’t understand Vietnamese. Anyway, my neighbor is closing in on me. He hugs me like his best friend. He occasionally shouts something incomprehensible and strokes my chest with his hands, probably to show how much he loves his new best friend. Almost desperate, and extremely hungry, I try to grab one of the delicious-looking chicken drumsticks. My neighbor misinterprets the movement and immediately shakes my hand vigorously. Since he won’t let go of her, eating is simply out of the question. Tanja laughs and looks at me a little sympathetically. “It’s not funny,” I say, unable to wring any fun out of it after a 90 km long, crazy hot day of cycling, over a 900 meter high pass with a clay track to boot. Again I try to reach for one of the chicken drumsticks, which are now getting cold. This time, another man’s hand shoots across the table to shake mine. “I’m going mad here,” I say, trying to manage a smile. One of the loud men is now waving his dirty index finger over my hopefully tasty chicken drumsticks. I watch in horror as the circling eagle finger swoops down and pokes one mallet after another. I carefully push his hand away and take the opportunity to grab one of the mallets. It may only be lukewarm, but it tastes fantastic. The man next to me rests his head on my shoulder and slurs something. “I think he wants to pay for our meal,” I say to Tanja. “Really, do you really think so?” “I’m not sure, but I think you should go to the innkeeper and settle our bill quickly. We don’t want the poor guy to wonder where his hard-earned money went tomorrow.” While Tanja walks to the counter, the young man next to me fiddles with the string that dangles a large boar’s tooth from his tanned chest. “That’s for you,” I understand him. In order not to let the situation tip over, I try to diplomatically refuse the gift, which is certainly very well-intentioned. But it’s no use, as he seems to have taken it into his head to give me his great piece of jewelry. Suddenly he notices Tanja handing the landlord a few banknotes. He immediately jumps up and staggers to the counter. “Let’s go quickly,” says Tanja. We say a friendly goodbye to the men and before they are able to say anything back, we have left the store. “I’m so hungry”, I moan on the way back to my hotel room, as I’ve only managed to eat a few of the delicious chicken drumsticks. “And the beer was really great. The best on the whole trip so far. Really a shame.” “If you like, I’ll get us another mug. We can drink it in the room,” Tanja offers. “Really! Super! I’d love to drink another tasty hop juice like that,” I reply…
If you would like to find out more about our adventures, you can find our books under this link.
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