Day 13 20th November Chau Doc to Can Lau 107Km

Day 13 20th November Chau Doc to Can Lau 107Km (planned distance was 85Km)

After the events of yesterday I was still on a high - I really did not think that I was going to get into Vietnam through that border. I woke early and strolled over to the restaurant for breakfast. In the early morning the temperature was very pleasant and at 6am there was someone to take my order in the restaurant. I chose bread and jamas we had a large meal the night before. I was a bit surprised to see someone who looked suspiciously like my waiter go cycling off, to return a short while later with a bag dangling from his handlebars. I think that he had been to fetch the bread, it was certainly fresh. I also had iced coffee, I think I was pushing my luck there, a small filter coffee on a cup turned up along with some ice, in the end I drank the coffee hot, it seemed too long a wait for it to melt the ice.

Both Tom (the Cycling guide) and Huang, who drove the van were experienced in dealing with cyclists and cycles, the van was clean and had fixing points for bicycles to be properly stored. They also worked together to load and unload the bicycles, taking care to treat them properly. In Jim's case he was concerned when we loaded his bike onto the van the previous night, but both Tom and Huang took note and treated his bike carefully.

Here is the pond that I crossed in order to get to the restaurant. There was also a little wooden bridge across it.

The four of us had three rooms around a single entrance and foyer, it was quiet and seemed well kept. We were on the ground floor.

During breakfast Chris kept suggesting that we detour to cycle a small hill nearby, he was quite adamant, actually it did have its benefits. It would help to make up for some of missing cycling from yesterday and it would certainly provide some great views of the Vietnamese countryside. Apparently the border can be clearly seen in the difference between the green Vietnamese fields, which are well irrigated and the brown Cambodian fields which weren't. Tom was a bit concerned that we might have problems with motorcycles speeding down the hill. Apparently it was a popular spot for the locals to perform their daily exercises, sufficiently refreshed they would then zoom down.


Before we set off we had a quick look at the bikes, I oiled mine, checked the seat height and tightened the brakes. I also had a look at the chain and various cogs. The chain was knackered - not a cycling term but you get the idea. I could get my finger between it and the front sprocket (cog). Hum - this did not bode well for the day, my high diminished slightly. We set off - we cycled into the nearby town, swarming across the junctions just like all the others (cyclists, motorbikes and cars). It was around 5Km to the top and as we got closer we realised it was pretty steep. My bike gave me a hint of things to come, it seemed that most of the gears were not working, It kept slipping, just about tolerable on the flat, but almost impossible to cope with cycling up a hill. As it got steeper the only usable gear was the granny gear. The gearing was so extreme and the hill was sufficiently steep that I had to sit in the saddle and lean towards the handlebars to prevent myself from tipping over backwards.

Jim and Mary sped off, I and crawled along after them. Normally when cycling up hills I like to stand and pedal, it helps to stretch the legs. It was impossible, if I tried to get any other gear it kept slipping. At one point the back wheel lost traction (because of the granny gear) and I had to jump off. The only way to carry on was to wheel the bike off the road at the next corner and get some momentum before the road steepened again. I finally reached the top, hot bothered and very unhappy with my bike.

The views were great though, unfortunately it was a bit hazy so the pictures were not brilliant. We did not spot the border. My GPS reckoned the hill was about 240m high (750ft). It certainly felt like it.

Here are Jim and Mary sitting waiting for me to get to the top. Neither Tom nor Chris reached the top, they both gave up at the first sign of a slope. Whilst it was a great view and definitely worth it, I think they just wanted to tire us out. In Tom's case his knee problems worried him and that is why he was trying to put us off. When he realised he could let us go up on our own he was happier. In the event we only saw a few motorcycles and they all treated us with courtesy. You can also see Mary's bandage, out here it seemed prudent to ensure any wounds were kept clean and dry. The first few days after Mary's accident her cut did play up.

As we headed down the hill it took me a while to sort out a decent gear and given my unhappiness with the bike I did not dare get up any speed. By the time I had reached the bottom the rear brake was practically useless. At the bottom Tom and Chris were having a drink, I virtually slammed my bike on the floor (but didn't - it had some of my components on it) and we had a look. The rear mech - the swingy thing that moves the chain to different cogs was pretty sticky, even after some oil it was not much better.

We set off back the way we came and headed towards a ferry, our country routes were to take us over a number of ferries over the next couple of days. This one was probably one of the the biggest ferries. Quite often they only loaded at one end and then did an interesting dance as they passed the ferry going in the opposite direction and reversed into their destination. Sometimes they would stop at two or three points during their journey across the river.

The country lanes were a wonderful way to see Vietnam. At first there were a lot of motor scooters around in the towns, but the further out we headed the quieter the roads became. Here are the team - Tom is in the snake-skin patterned top.

In general Vietnam seemed to be better cultivated than Cambodia, in part this was due to better irrigation systems, but I also felt that the Vietnamese were also better organised.

After a few kilometres we switch to a much bumpier track, it was being upgraded, but whilst it was being worked on that left even bigger ruts as the lorries came and went. At this point my gears slipped on every small bridge and virtually all the bumps,. When heading up a bridge you want to go quite slowly but be able to power over the top when you can see it is clear. For me that was impossible, even worse, on the bumps and ruts you need to be able to power the bike through potholes, because it was impossible to steer round all of them. In these conditions I did not clip in (allow my shoes to lock to the pedals) just in case I needed to be able to jump off. Some of the potholes can go very deep.

Chris seemed to avoid cycling with me as the bike got worse and worse, he was the supplier! The final straw came when at one rut the gears slipped completely and I ended up gashing the back of my leg, well it felt like a gash, it was a 2cm scrape plus bruise and runny blood (you need to have read the earlier blogs for that reference). I caught up with the others, jumped off the bike and fumed. I am ashamed to say that the poverty we were witnessing along with the welcome we were getting just washed over me at that point.

We had stopped near some wooden shacks on wooden stilts the other side of some water. The inhabitants were very friendly and wanted us to take pictures of them and of the insides of their houses. The chap in the middle was very welcoming, shaking hands with us and muttering something - which turned out to be give me your camera!

Jim and I followed one lady to her house, but after taking a look at the not so skinny Westerners she was clearly concerned that the "bridge" a wooden pole, would not take the weight of both of us. The way Jim looks it was clear he wondered whether it would take the weight of one of us.

Mary and Chris came back from their visit quite shocked, in the house they had seen two young kids, tied down to beds both foaming at the mouth. It was clear that there was something seriously wrong with them. It was easy to take a Western view of this and consider it as cruelty. However you need to consider that if the family does not work then it does not eat. They can't spare someone to look after the two handicapped children. There is not a health service or social support system, so they have little choice but to do what they do.

They did tell us that they had been informed and it had been confirmed by the Government that this genetic damage to the children was a by-product of chemicals arising from the massive use of Agent Orange to defoliate parts of the countryside by the Americans during the war. Obviously we had no way of knowing the cause, but none the less it was a shocking sight to see.

We weren't sure why they were particularly friendly to us, they did not ask for anything and we did not feel that they were at all hostile. Perhaps they just needed us to witness their plight.

It was also quite common to see duck farms in the water by the side of the roads. There were always people watching the ducks closely, to ensure that they did not escape and perhaps also to ensure that they were not pinched. Mind you, we never ate any duck whilst we were in Vietnam.

One noticeable thing is that these conical hats are very common in Viet Nam (as it is called here). This was the style of hat the hotel lent us during last nights downpour.

One enterprising duck farm owner had dyed all the ducks pink, they certainly stood out.

After the tracks we met up with the support van; Tom gave up on cycling for that day because of his knee and I swapped to my fourth bike of the trip. Fortunately for me the company that Tom and Huang worked for had a spare bike (well-maintained) which was more or less my size. Once again we switched over my bits onto the next bike. Although it had its own handlebar bag so I used that, I did switch over Custard though. The bike was a hybrid, a cross between a mountain bike and a normal road bike. As a result I sat more upright, it had smoother tyres and slightly rounded handlebars. The gears all worked and the brakes were sharp, for me it was a no brainer I would use it. As the rest of the trip was not going to pass over such extreme trails as in Cambodia its smoother tyres would also make it more efficient. The only challenge would be the additional wind resistance from the more upright position and the pressure on my wrists from a different handlebar position.

It was a short ride to lunch, we sat out in the open in the shade of a tree and enjoyed Pho, which to my untrained ear sounded like "fur". Essentially is it a beef and noodle soup with several herbs (four in our case) on the side. Then each person can add as much or as little of the herbs plus sliced chillies and fish sauce as desired. I think that there was also a sliced lime and some salt that are mixed up into a paste as well. It is a traditional dish that can be eaten at any meal time. It is good for (non-vegetarian) cyclists as it is easy to digest, a good source of energy and delicious.

At this point I felt that it might be a good idea to use the toilet (or bathroom as some prefer to call it) and not just to empty my bladder! Nothing urgent, I was not suffering from dodgy ice or strange food. Tom asked and the proprietor led me to a small room made from corrugated iron around the back of the cooking area. At this point I was rather confused. It was quite dark (I should have brought a torch with me), but it looked more like a laundry area, there was a pile of damp clothes and a washing basin. In the corner of the room was a small hole that led to the outside, although just what bit of outside I was not sure.

At this point I decided that perhaps I had better leave it, if I was right and it was a laundry area then it would certainly have made the owner thing that we western cyclists would somewhat barbaric defecating in laundries. Instead I took an Immodium Instant to slow things down and ensure that the rest of the ride was comfortable. It certainly seemed to do the trick, although I did not run a control experiment and certainly not a double-blind test. Later on after discussing this with Tom he was not much the wiser, it was indeed a laundry , but perhaps weeing out of the corner was allowed.

After lunch we had a short ride and then caught another ferry. For some reason my saddle kept slipping and after the ferry Chris and I stopped to tighten it up. We lost the Van and the other two following it. (Tom was in the van as well). We came to a large junction and Chris rang Tom on his mobile to get directions. Up until lunchtime Chris had been tracking the route on his GPS system, but for some reason it was playing up and so his was not tracking our position but had a map of the area, mine was working but I had not downloaded maps for the area (I had tried but could not find any free ones).

Anyway Tom gave us the direction and we set off, the wind behind us and a river to the right of us. After a while Chris was a little confused as he was expecting the river to be on the other side. So we rang Tom again, it turned out he had given us the wrong direction. None of us knew where we were, so Chris handed the phone to a local garage owner and some discussion followed in Vietnamese, I am not sure it totally resolved our position but Tom and Huang eventually found us and offered to put the bikes in the van and take us up to where Mary and Jim were waiting. Since it was only around 5Km. We thought it would take more time loading the bikes than cycling them so we set of back whilst Tom and Huang tried to shuttle between the two groups of cyclists supplying water and directions at key points on the journey.

Things seemed to be going smoothly, at one point we were only about 5 mins down the road from Jim and Mary so I tried to step up the pace with Chris drafting behind me. I would slowly increase my speed, but as I approached around 32Km/h (20mph) Chris would drop right back. We stopped for water and Chris explained that he just did not have the energy. I did not really want to set out on my own,. I didn't have my mobile phone with me, nor did I know the name of the hotel or the town even. But in the end I could not dawdle at Chris' pace so set out on my own. It was a lovely day, quite warm, but nice for cycling.

As I cycled I must have misheard the expected distance at the last stop because I was expecting to come across the ferry crossing at around 35Km after the lunchstop, but saw nothing. I was pretty sure I was on the right road as I could see the river intermittently and there were bursts of traffic coming the other way, surely an indication of a ferry load being put ashore? I decided to go on for another 5Km to 40Km, at one point I was run off the road by a bus overtaking a lorry, I had no choice but to cycle onto the verge. This was the most blatant opression of cyclists I'd experienced during the B2S Challenge. I have had the same thing happen in England - only then I think it was lack of attention, in this case the bus beeped at me to ensure I got out of the way.

As I cycled through the towns it seemed that the rice drying also seemed to be on a much larger scale in Vietnam compared with Cambodia.

At around 40Km I passed a small ferry, but since the van was not there I decided to carry on, I thought I could see something further up the river, but by now was getting a little concerned. Had I just gone past the FERRY, but such a small ferry would hardly carry our van let along other traffic. Just as my resolve was starting to weaken (again) I cycled into a larger town and saw Tom waving at me. Jim and Mary were in the van getting some rest. After a short while Chris also came into view and we all caught the ferry to the other side.

It was a short ride of 5Km into the town and our next hotel - a larger Provincial Town hotel.