The Road Less Traveled

     On our last full day in Hoi An we rented bikes from the woman across the street from our hotel and biked the four kilometers to the beach.  The bikes were much better than the ones in Hue and the traffic much tamer, so though it was cloudy and drizzling it was a pretty pleasant ride.  The beach was wide, sandy, and deserted and we walked for a long time on it right on the edge of the really warm water.  A group of girls were playing on the beach and they beamed and said 'Hello,' to us before asking for a picture with my dad (the beard, maybe?).
      The next morning we had to wake up before six to catch the bus to Kon Tum.  It was more like a van than a bus and there was the tiniest bit of legroom, so when it turned out that this was it for the day we were alarmed.  Luckily we switched buses at eleven, unluckily we had been going nearly the opposite way we wanted to and had to backtrack.  Unluckily it filled up quickly and was the same kind of bus as before.  Unluckily we sat in the way back and the luggage from the trunk pushed the seat to lean forward.  Unluckily it filled in quickly and since we each took an end seat seat to maximize leg-room we weren't sitting next to eachother.  My dad was fine in his row but, I think it's a cultural thing, the woman who sat next to my mother and the person who sat next to me were practically sitting in our laps despite ample room between them.  I guess they put their bags there, but still.  It was an unpleasant couple of hours, practically leaning forward thanks to the back of the row (these are bench seats) and leaning into the window (and away from companion) as much as was physically possible.  A couple of times he grabbed my iPod and played with it for a little while, showing me his phone, speaking in rapid Vietnamese, and making various unintelligible hand-gestures.  Maybe there were a reason that no other foreigners were on our bus or any of the others that stopped for lunch where we did.
     Around two we stopped for lunch at a roadside collection of stands and had some pho.  The woman sitting next to my mom had gotten off and we had rearranged so I could sit between a different window and her but it was still a huge relief to get off for a little while and stretch my legs.  For the first time I could see the roadsigns but it was disheartening to see that Pleiku was still fifty-some kilometeres away and Kon Tum seventy more beyond that.
     The bus let us off a half dozen blocks from our hotel and we left it pretty soon after for a walk around the city and a vegetarian restaurant we found on the brilliant site Happy Cow.  Both the veggie restaurants in Kon Tum are on the same street and it was a pleasant walk.  The city is not, by Vietnamese standards, very polluted or crowded and it's quite a bit of the beaten trail so while people shout hellos at us they don't follow them up by 'You want to buy something?'-s.
    For no real reason after peeking into both restaurants we went with the first.  There was one dish offered and it, various faux meats (so tasty... I wish we could get these back home) and vegetables on a bed of rice, was very similar to the place in Hoi An.  We think that it might be some sort of religious thing but when we returned and there was an English-speaker there we forgot to ask.
     After trekking over to the travel agency to find that nobody spoke any English it was decided that we would take motorbike taxis with two people from the UK and a guide around to some of the nearby ethnic minority villages.  I would like interrupt the narrative here to assure my various relatives that, yes, I did sit on the back of a motorbike no, it wasn't at all irresponsible of my parents because I wore a helmet, we were on back roads, and the driver wasn't at all reckless.  Would this be a good time to break the news that we might be doing a motorbike loop in Laos in which case I would be driving my own bike?  Exciting.
     The gravel kicked up by the bike stung my legs and dust got in my eyes but it was nice to travel slower and get to take in the countryside.  Away from the sprawl there actually is countryside, contrary to what I feared after the ride to Ninh Binh.
     The first stop we made was at a corrugate tin Rong (meeting house) and soon after at a traditional graveyard.  Once a week people bring rice wine to the dead people and leave them TVs and bicycles. Graves are reused so the graveyard wasn't huge.  Each grave had a tin roof over a small area where gifts were left, surrounded by chickenwire.  There were ceramic pots in many graves but apparently they have the bottoms broken out of them so nobody steals them.  Our guide for this expedition was really great, speaking fluent English and obviously interested in what he was telling us.
     Our group of motorbikes was joined here by some kids touring the villages too but they seemed more interesting in taking pictures and video of the Foreigners.  They didn't even try to be disrete!  Or ask!  I guess I'm getting used to it, but when they follow you around for a couple of hours how many pictures do you really need?  Apparently you have to take them constantly for over an hour to get enough.
     Most of the houses in the villages are cement Vietnamese houses now but we stopped at one that was a cement traditional house--raised off the ground.  It felt  bad to be standing in somebody's yard and I'm not sure they were thrilled with it either but we didn't leave soon enough.
     Along the road there were rows of trees on a rubber plantation.  They take a long time to grow and there were a ton of them, each wrapped with a plastic cone a few feet of the ground to deflect water.   
___At two we regrouped to go to three other villages.  The first was right in the city and unimpressive, the second out a ways.  At the third village there was a funeral at the Rong and we skirted it not to intrude.  The dirt roads between the houses on stilts were filled with pigs, cows, piglets, dogs, and of course puppies.  Unsocial ones, but I got some pictures.           
                                                               ____Our last stop before lunch was at a place by a lake where we were shown manioc roots and walked around for a few minutes.  It was the heat of the day and quite dry so we were dropped back at the hotel and walked back to the street of veggie restaurants.  We tried the second one but were less impressed than with the first.  I'm getting a little sick of these fake-meat-rice combinations, though the meat at this one was realistic-looking and we had a moment of not really wanting to try it.  Afterwards we stopped for che at a stand on the road.


 

Manioc roots

          The river had a muddy and rocky bottom but the brits swam and we waded.  There were cows on a sandbank on the opposite side of the river and they decided to swim home while we were still there.  The waded most of the way but at one point it was too deep and now I think I see why they are land animals.
     We got snacks for dinner and treats from a bakery.  I was tempted by a green thing because it was green and it was a cake-like thing covered in a stretchy green thing.  It tasted really good but the pictures came out unappetizingly so I won't include them.
     For breakfast this morning we went back to the first veggie restaurant for pho and afterwards looked for a well-reviewed cafe called Eva Cafe for some real coffee for my parents.  It was a hike to get there but a lovely place, not really set back from the road but seeming to be out of the city.  The owner, Mr. An, was very nice and talked to us about a tour he runs.
      In South America people were so delighted I had a name they could pronounce that I went by Anita most of the time, here I am apparently 'An', which is apparently a boy's name.  Don't any of you dare call me anything but Anna when I get home.
     The bus to Pleiku comes every hour and leaves when it's full but it didn't take too long to fill up after we schlepped over to where they picked people up.  Everybody was really nice, helping us pack our luggage in, figure out where to get off, and get a taxi despite the absolute language barrier.
     For lunch we went to a hotel that was in the process of a major remodel and, judging by the chunks of cement and layer of dust carpeting it, was not open.  We found a second cab and went to a different hotel for indifferent food and this evening for our last night in Vietnam we are celebrating by not going anywhere and eating cashews and fruit.  Cambodia tomorrow!