Anton Swanepoel's Blog

Start of trip || < || >

For details of the places I visited in Vietnam along the Ho Chi Minh Trail, with GPS Coordinates, see my book Vietnam Caves.

For details on motorbiking in Vietnam and Cambodia, from buying and selling a motorbike, to border crossing, see my book Motorbiking Cambodia & Vietnam.

Having decided I am going to stay an extra day in Hoi An, a sleepy little town, I sleep in a bit. Last night’s bath was so cool, I actually fell asleep in the bathtub.

Hoi An actually used to be the port to go to, until Da Nang a few miles up replaced it. Below is a small piece from the internet.

“In the 18th century, Hội An was considered by Chinese and Japanese merchants to be the best destination for trading in all of Southeast Asia, even Asia. Japanese believed the heart of all of Asia (the dragon) lay beneath the earth of Hội An.[citation needed] The city also rose to prominence as a powerful and exclusive trade conduit between Europe, China, India, and Japan, especially for the ceramic industry. Shipwreck discoveries have shown that Vietnamese and Asian ceramics were transported from Hội An to as far as Sinai, Egypt.”

However, since Hoi An fell out of favor as a port, it soon got forgotten, and has changed little in over 200 years. Although the town is now starting to boom due to the increase in tourism wanting to see the old town, be at the beach, and just relax.

I lazily get up, and go find breakfast across the road. They have super fast internet, better than in my room (as seems to be a trend in the hotels I stay in, every floor but mine has internet). So I catch up on my blog update from the previous day.

Then I decide to go sight seeing. The lady that helped me yesterday with direction to my hotel, said that she sells suits, and I must stop by. I was like, yeh, who would buy a suit here. Then I come across a whole road full of tailors making suits.

I lazily drive arround, coming to a small port where the ferries pick passengers up, and take them across. I saw on the map that it shows them going across just to the other side. The ferries are much smaller than the ones I have been on, and is basically just a fishing boat. They want 30K one way, I try to get the guy down, but he refuses. I recon it is a fixed price, so walk over to a small roadside restaurant. There I see a lady I actually met in Saigon in the first hotel I stayed in. Funny that after two weeks, we would meet again in a different town. She has been taking the bus up from town to town. I have a quick chat, then decide I am going to go once across, then drive back, it is only $1.5.

I wait for another ferry to moor up, and get on. The captain loads my bike for me, and we wait for a few more passengers. Then we head off.

So this is how you moor a boat up.

The engine sounds like an old bus engine, that the captain controls with a piece of rope. Steering is by moving a large lever around. I took a video as we were crossing, just for the sound of the engine. Check it out here. I took another video of him docking, check it out here. I am now happily on a ferry, with no idea where I am actually going. But yes I can pay the 30K to go back if all else fails. By the way, locals only paid 1K.

Right, now offloading the bikes. Here they do not put a plank down, and you basically just drive the bike off. You got to time it right as the boats moves a bit away from the dock, so that your wheel does not slip in.

I drive the bike off, and immedialty realize, tourist trap. They have deposited my on a small island. There are a few shops in the start, but about two roads in, it is just houses and tiny roads.

I drive around, and come across this cool pagoda or house with a a pond next to it.

I am determined to find a way off the island other than the ferry, and use my map application on my iPhone. Astonishingly enought, it has the roads, which are basically now just walkways between rice fields. I plot out a course to where I see a road meets up with the main road, and go for it.

Suddenly I come to a traffic jam.

Having passed the holdup, I am in open roads again, and gun the bike, no ninja traffic cops around here. A local in the field that looks like he is asleep slowly lifts his head as a approach, gives me a quick glance, decides I am boring, then goes back to sleep.

I meet a fellow tourist who is walking around, and ask her if she is lost. She says no she is just sight seeing. (We are now past all the shops, she is lost.) I offer her a ride back to the ferry, but she declines. So I motor on. Soon I come to the bridge that I need to cross to eventually get to the main road.

Can you guys see a trend here, it seems I am crossing a lot of bridges lately, wonder if that is a reflection of my life.

The bridge is basically a narrow cement bridge, with two main supports, and a bunch of tile like blocks.

at first i thought okay, short small bridge. But when i got to where the ground is again, i realize that oops, this thing is actually long.

Many of the blocks are sunken in, missing, or broken.

The locals only ride on one of the two main beams.

I check the locals, and they only drive on the narrow main beam, about the with of a white line painted on the road. I feel like Indiana Jones as I negotiate across the bridge. It is funny to see the local’s faces when they look up from concentrating on the road as we approach each other, and seeing a white dude in front of them. It is like, o no, we are going to crash, I am going to die. But then I miss them.

Half way across, and a sudden gust of wind across the river hits me, and I almost lose it and go bike an all over the edge. Just my immense experience and Superman speed saved me. (Actually prob because I was going slow and the bike has awesome brakes.) I manage to stop and want to put my foot down, and find nothing, where did the road ago. I almost go over the other side. Now I just proved that two halfs may may a hole, but two near misses does not make a hit. 🙂

Crap, where did the road go?

Right, movie on, scare some more locals, then get to the other side.

Scaring the locals.
From there it is just again small rice field roads whither locals farming (or sleeping).

I get it the main road and head back to the hotel as yes, I am hungry. However, along the way, I actually spot a place I saw yesterday as I came into town. I am now on the same road I used yesterday. This place looked cool, but I did not want to go in yesterday as I wanted the bike fixed.

It turns out to be an awesome restaurant, culture village, and museum. They started building it in 2004, and according to their website and brochure say that the museum would be open in 2013. The actually place is different than the pictures on the brochure, and looks far more stunning. I have a awesome meal, that interestingly enough is not that expensive given the place. In truth, this whole town is far cheaper than even the mountain town I stayed in, and almost half of what I paid in Da Lat.

They have wifi, so I catch up on some more writing. While eating, a waitress comes over and asks if I know how to use chopsticks. (And I though that if I manage to clean my plate without using my hands I am super cool.) my response is to hand her a new set of chopsticks from the table. She steps back in surprise, but recovers, and then shows me how to eat noddles with chopsticks. Basically just scoop it into your mouth. I am like no thanks, I will eat it properly, piece by piece not stuffing my mouth. She is very disappointed. I let her be and continue writing.

When done, I pay the bill and ask the waiter about the museum. He says they have no museum. I respond that the sign at the entrance says there is a museum. Nope, no museum. I shake my head and walk away, then a lady that I think is a manager comes over and asks if I want to see the museum. Off course. She explains that the museum is actually closed for renovations, but because I am a special quest, she will allow me a private tour. Cool.

I always knew I was special and one of a kind ha ha ha.

The lady gets a tour guide for me, that takes me all around the museum.

My tour guide

Making noodles in the cement oven in the back.

The places is basically build from actually houses, some over 170 years old, from far out country villages. They are actually houses people lived in and donated to this museum. It is amazing to see and experience. Check out the pictures.

After my private tour, I head back to the hotel and pass the floating boat restaurant. I decide that I will return for dinner. At the hotel I mosy around, and plan my trip for tomorrow, a long ass one as the next big town i am heading for is 324 km away. I decide to head out to the restaurant early and write there.

It is way cool, and the food is good, but the most expensive I have had in this town, but still less than the other towns. I am directed to the top, where yes, you guessed it, there is no wifi. The wifi is downstairs. Man, I do not know what it is with my luck and wifi. So I write basically this whole blog post on the ship, but have to go back to the restaurant across my hotel to upload the pictures to finish it. Pity, as I would have liked to do all here. The food is okay, and I am the only customer in the whole ship, so I feel like the captain. I am special remember. Ha ha ha.

As I walk out of the ship, the two ladies at the reception are sitting with their chairs turned around, their backs against the reception desk, their feet against the wall, playing games on their cellphones. So naturally I do the right thing and sneak up behind them and go, “You guys are really busy hey?” Both fall off their chairs and as they try to get themselves up from the floor as dignified as they can, I crack myself up for them. They give in, and join the laughter.

On the way back to the hotel i spot a harvester, and a girl with a girly helmet.

And also a truck with sudden death on it.

Start of trip || < || >

For details of the places I visited in Vietnam along the Ho Chi Minh Trail, with GPS Coordinates, see my book Vietnam Caves.

For details on motorbiking in Vietnam and Cambodia, from buying and selling a motorbike, to border crossing, see my book Motorbiking Cambodia & Vietnam.

 

Having had a nice rest, I decide to get out of town early. Although the next town is only about 140 Km away, it is still for the most part mountain passes, so i expect around 4 hours or so travel. In addition, that Hoi An, is a major costal tourist town, and I would like to see some of it, maybe even stay a day extra there as I hear it is a nice town.

With that, I head out to find some breakfast. Locate my favorite breakfast stands, that give so much rich experiences to me. 🙂 Even though this is a small town, it seems to be a major stop over point for backpackers, and they are no stranger to English here. I spot a mobile food stand, and the lady does not have eggs, but she does have cheesy wedges. So i ask for two rolls with cheese on. It is chilly, rainy, but beautiful in the mountains. So peaceful.
The lady actually puts the rolls on a small fire, and toasts them, wicked.

Roll being toasted.

Filled up, I head back to the hotel to check out. It is just before 9, and no sign of the other two backpackers. They where last night just going to take a shower and maybe meet me for dinner, but i only saw one when i came back from dinner. He said they fell asleep. So i wonder if they are not still sleeping, long distance riding on a motorcycle requires a different kind of fitness, ha ha ha, see how you guys are in 5 days. I head out, but before i leave the town, I spot this memorial. It turns out to be the same name as the town, so i guess he was a hero long ago as the memorial have spears and bows.

Turning around, I have a nice view of the river going past the town.

Cool, time to put the pedal to the medal, and turn the road into fudge.

I think this may be fare well as some other towns have it in english.

The scenery is stunning, and i pass a dam. At first when i rode to the town yesterday i did contemplate on skipping it and making the long trek like the other guys planned to the next large town at the coast. Now i am glad that i did not, for I would have missed all this beauty. And why else are one doing a trip like this but to see all around you.

Hammering the bike flat out, is not fun, as you constantly have to be on the lookout for strange stuff in the road like these.

Hold on man, I have an itch I just have to scratch first.

You lost something over here sport?

Soon I come to a bridge. Okay, it does not compare to yesterday’s bridge, but It looked cool on the other side, so I had to go and have a look. It turned out to be about six guesthouses or hotels, with two eating places. A nice mountain retreat, If you are half way and cannot make it, or want to sleep in the mountains away from every one else in town, this is the spot to go.

I see a sign with a coffee cup and a sunday ice cream on, and decide i am going to have ice cream. I stop, and point to the ice cream sign. The owner shakes his head. 🙁 Then I decide, okay, i will try the coffee. I love coffee, but try to avoid it and only occasionally have some. It has been a long while since i had any, so why not. The restaurant has a nice setting.

The owner, not one on giving up, actually finds me a fake cornetto, I accept, actually tasty.

There are about 5 guys playing a board game, and they leave it to come and see me map out my route on my iPad. I amaze them by zooming in and out, showing road names, then pan down to where I am going and zooming in there and indicating it is where I am heading. They are amazed, then leave for work.

Now my coffee arrives, not the coffee cup on the poster. I stare at it for a moment, not really sure what to do, as almost no coffee drips out from the bottom. My experience with these is you pour the water in on the top, then wait until it drips all though, but almost nothing is coming out.

So i use the spoon, and move the coffee around, and press down to get more water to go though. As the coffee in the glass starts to go solid, i think maybe i should dilute it with just water.

I stare at the monster I have created. But I am not afraid, I used to drink three triple expressos in a row when i was in IT. although that was a long time ago.

I go for it, and by the third sip, the hair on my chest is standing up straight, by the end of the cup i am Yoda the Jedi master as I float over the ground. Feeling indestructible, I head out and take on the mountain passes. I still have about 50 km to go, now mostly downhill as i approach the ocean.

I round a sharp bend, slack off, then take a reasonable uphill. As i give the bike gas, my heart almost stops. Suddenly, like a switch was thrown, the bike has no power. she still manages to run 45km/h up the hill, but it is not that steep a climb. Not sure if it is the coffee and i may be misjudging the steepness as yesterday on some i could only manage 40km/h, i wait until i hit the downhill. Here my fears are realized, as the bike even on the downhill has no power, and just feels out of breath. At that point i miss my turn as it actually goes through a very small town where the main road just continue on, if it was not for the GPS i would not have known. As i stop to turn around, I notice what i first thought was houses (did not give them much attention as i have bigger things to worry about now), turns out to be a mass graveyard. Great, 50km from nowhere, bike on the edge, at a graveyard.

I turn back and ride the 3km back to the turn, my head in high gear as i am thinking. the next bit is a bit boring, but welcome to my technical reasoning. Cool thing i was rebuilding earthmoving machines, souping up cars and so on from since i could walk.

The bike still runs, she just feels weak, but still manages to get up to 60km/h.
The bike only needs three things in correct quantity and timing to run.

Air, well i am still alive, so a giant octopus did not just suck the air out of earth, a bag could not have gone into the air take as it is to protected and the engine is not bogging down with a suffocating sound. (mechanics will know).

Spark or electronics. Well she still runs, and the power loss although sudden, is constant. Since the bike is carburetor, it is not the fuel injection computer, and these bikes have a fixed sensor, so the timing could not have gone out. There could be a short, but unlikely as the bike performs the same through high and low speed, bumps in the road or level.

Fuel. This seems to be the more likely culprit, as two days ago i ran flat out uphill, and the bike suddenly bogged down, then as i released the gas for 10 seconds, she went again at a lower speed. This indicated blocked fuel filter or carburetor. However, now it is constant loss of power, and even if i keep the bike flat out for a distance, she does not bog down. This indicates possible dirt in the main jet of the carburetor, as it feels like I only have half throttle. My suspicion gets stronger as i drastically see the gas drop faster than should be. (easy to see on a 5L tank). Running a bike flat out on to lean a mix actually uses more gas.

I pass a few towns, but they are small, and decided that the bike is still running, I am unlikely to get it fixed on the road, and every mile i get closer to where I want to be, is better, so i just go for it.

Along the way, I spot a ship that has been converted into a restaurant.

I get to town, and drive around trying to find my hotel, but the numbers are strange. A local stops and directs me. I soon find out that you cannot go by the numbers on one side for the other side, they run independently. For the one side is in the 300, and the other side in the 100. Soon I find my hotel, and like it. I have a nice room for $13, with balcony and a bath. I decide to stay an extra day here. Go down, and hand my washing in. I ask if I can get it express for the same evening as I have no more clean clothes, and they refuse, 24 hour service. I say I will pay extra, but nope, you are forced to stay another day in town. Was going to in any case, so I just leave it. Find a place across the road to get a quick bite, then head off to find a mechanic. Now here the fun starts.

the next part is funny at times, but mostly technical and me struggling with a mechanic that knows little.

I find one that looks like he has a decent shop, and he speaks no english. But the restaurant next door does, and the lady translates. However, this guy just does not want to do what I ask him to do. He has taken the bike for a ride, and yes the power is down. But, as I have discovered in Cambodia, few mechanics actually know much about the workings of a bike. They are just basically replaces. In that they just go out and buy the usual suspects, replace it, and hopes it solves the problem. And since they went out and bought it, you are forced to pay for whatever they come back with. I have ended up having to pay for a new battery, voltage regulator and coil that was replaced the day before, just because of a lose wire. And lose wires are common on bikes that have been worked on for a common method of fixing things is just to randomly cut wires and short them out against the chassis to see if there is power. In the end you end up with a bunch of connects that just gets twisted together, and later pulls out.

I want the guy to replace the fuel filter, and strip and clean the carburetor, as I suspect there is where the problem lies. He starts by taking the air filter box apart. I get the lady to explain it has been replaced 200 miles ago, and cannot be the air filter. His reply (translated) is that he needs time to find the problem, and I can get my bike the next day. I am no, I am staying, for now I know I know more about bikes than you.

He is unhappy, but continues. I let him open the airbox, and see his disappointment on seeing a brand new genuine Yamaha air filter. Next thing he starts tuning the carburetor. Now I am fuming. What is it with every mechanic at they always want to tune the carburetor. It has just been tuned by Yamaha. And the loss of power happened suddenly, not over time as I came down from the mountain. By the time I get the restaurant lady to stop him, he has tuned the carb out so far the bike dos not want to start. Since the bike now does not want to start, he decided that there must be something wrong with the plug. (Nothing to do with him playing with the carburetor.) he removes the spark plug, and find it brand new, but decide he is going to go over to a amaril wheel (fixed grinder with a wire brush wheel on one end) he is now going to polish the spark plug. I explode as you never do that. The wires going at high speed over the plug electrode magnetically charges it, causing the spark plug not to work right.

I get the lady to explain, and he is like okay I can pay for a new one if I do not like the cleaning. I am like okay, fine just put a new one in. With a new plug in, and some fiddling with the card, the bike starts, and he runs it up and down the street and comes back it is fixed. By now my patience are tested to the limit, for no nothing has been fixed. I now know it must be fuel as with the standing, the dirt in the line or carb must have run back, opening the blockage. So I know it will happen again.

I have Simon my friend I made in Saigon put his mechanic on the line to explain to him I want the fuel filter replaced and the carb cleaned. After the phone conversation, the local mechanic just continues to put the bikes fairing back. I grab a half carburetor lying around and show him I want mine taken apart, and cleaned. (Take a paint brush used for cleaning lying around and brush it over the half carburetor.) the mechanic shakes his head yes, and climbs on his bike and drives off. I am like, maybe he is getting someone that knows carbs, for it is clear he does not know where the fuel filter is. (In. Asia, when they do not know, they rarely say it, they just give nervous laughter, and this guy can be a standup comedian).

Ten minutes later, he comes back, gets the restaurant lady, and informs me he cannot get a new carburetor. By this time I just had it and grab some tools and strip the bike and carb myself. There is some dirt and sand in the carb, and we blow it out with a compressor. (He now decides to help a bit).

However, the fuel filter seems to either be inside the fuel tank, or deep inside a mess of boxes. I however see a vacuum pipe, connected to the airbox, and has a vacuum switch. Basically the petcock for the bike is controlled by vacuum. As you crank the engine, the vacuum opens the petcock, letting fuel run from the tank. This prevents fuel leakage when the bike is not being used. The pipe is cracked where it attaches, and I wonder if that could be a problem, so I run electrical tape over the end.

We put all together, and the bike starts and now revs nicely. He now starts putting fairings back. Something says to me to just check that the bike starts again, but I ignore it. When the mechanic is finished putting the fairings back, he tries to start the bike, and it refused to comply. Now this guy is almost in tears.

But, he holds out, and starts with the likely suspect (tuning the carb). Actually by this stage, about four locals have come into the shop, grabbed a flat screwdriver, and tuned their bike’s carbs. Finding no solution in tuning, he moves to the spark plug. No spark. Ahh, getting somewhere. Taking the one fairing off again. Now the bike starts. We check the wiring to the coil, but all seems fine. All we can see, is that the spark plug wire has rubbed against the chassis. I saw that earlier, and wrapped electrical tape as far as I could around it. He pulls it out and wraps some more around it. It is possible that the plug wire did rub through and shorted out against the chassis. However i did not see that, and although it would cause the bike not to start, it would not cause the consistent loss of power, while going over bumps and through turns.

So with the bike running again, pulling strong (but idling to high) I leave. $8 poorer, not knowing what actually was the problem, and with a bike I now have to go tune again myself. O well, that is life.

We will see tomorrow when I go sight seeing, how the bike runs.

place I had lunch. And dinner, very nice, and relatively cheap.

view from my balcony, other backpackers getting ready to go.