When I first decided to come to Vietnam, the idea of a big motorbike trip was top of my mind. I wanted the cruise through rice fields and foggy morning air just like they do in the movies. I’ve loved riding on the back of Grabbikes, but after Matt’s motorbike accident, I didn’t really feel the need to take my life in my own hands. But, I also didn’t want to leave Vietnam without at least one big motorbike adventure. And Hai Van pass seemed like the right choice.
Hai Van pass is a mountain pass right on the coast. It connects Hue to Hoi An. Everyone loves Hoi An. It’s ridiculously touristy, but the old world charm drips from the colonial era walls.
So this was my big finish Hue (another tourist favorite), motorbike ride over Hai Van pass, end with a bang in Hoi An.
My homestay in Hue booked the motorbike for me. I’d found a bunch of companies where you could follow a guide on your own bike over the pass. I figured I know nothing about a motorbike, so if it breaks down, I’d like to have someone there. Or, you know, if I crash and die, someone can at least push my body out of traffic. The guy my homestay recommended was cheaper than the companies I’d found online and it was a private tour as opposed to a group.
The night before we left, I had a bit of a scare. Reader discretion is advised for this next sentence. Sparing any graphic details, I learned that I have worms. I’d been warned that about 75% of people who visit Vietnam contract some sort of worm. A lot of expats I’ve met take worm medication once a month prophylactically. It was a creepy feeling, but not a disaster. I could get the meds over the counter when I got to Hoi An.
So after a bit of a restless night’s sleep, I was ready for the big adventure.
The picked me up at 8am. After strapping my bag to the back of his bike, he asked the routine questions of where I was from and how long I was in Vietnam. He was delighted to find I was a teacher but surprised I didn’t ride a motorbike in Saigon.
The review of the bike controls was less than 20 seconds (“gas is here, brake is here, horn is here”) and then we were off into Hue morning commuter traffic.
Within about 30 seconds I regretted not getting a bike 8 months ago. The adrenaline rapidly dissolved into excitement. Granted, traffic in Hue was a lot lighter (although I feel like I saw more accidents) but it was such a fun feeling riding through the streets.
After looping through the city for about 10 minutes, we set out into the countryside.
Bouncing along on the cement one lane road was an adventure. We rode through fishing villages and rice fields. Rice grows in southern Vietnam, but the fields are not terraced like in the north.
Every time I saw a truck, I panicked a little.
Truck! I thought. Trucks kill people. And I’d hug the shoulder of the road till it passed.
After about an hour we pulled over in one of the fishing villages.
“I think you drive too slow,” my guide said. “I think when we get to the highway it is not safe. When I fast, you fast. When I slow, you slow.”
I apprehensively agreed. It didn’t feel slow to me, but it was more or less the same feedback I got in drivers ed 10 years ago. I thought about a ski instructor telling me about how I should go a little faster than feels safe since the momentum made balancing easier.
There was a little temple near where we stopped dedicated to a tiger god. The scenery was absolutely beautiful, and promised to be an awesome day.
We stopped just a few minutes later for petrol, and then got on the highway. I did my best to keep up, and we maxed out at a top speed of 70km/hour.
When we stopped at a roadside rest area a little later, my stomach was a little queasy. I took an Imodium so I could enjoy the rest of the day without a reminder of the worms or whatever else was living in me.
And then we were back on the road. I continued to think Truck! Trucks kill people! Every time I saw one. I thought the same thing about buses too. I think buses actually scare me more than trucks but I’m not sure why.
Our next stop was Elephant Waterfall. This hidden swimming hole has become a staple on expat motorbike trips along the coast of Vietnam. We motorbiked up the jagged dirt road, bumping over the rocks and erosion that scarred the trail.
I wasn’t sure I needed to swim in a waterfall, but my guide insisted that I did. I changed into my bathing suit. I debated skipping my Bodyglove but decided that I’d cover my pealing Thailand tan. In the end, I was glad I had it because the water was freezing cold.
My guide showed me the best place to enter. As soon as I slipped in, the cold sucked the breath from my lungs. I swam out into the current of the waterfall and road down the three little eddies into the larger swimming pool at the bottom. It was cold, but it was a blast. My guide filmed me, and I have the most elated smile on my face as I sailed down the waterfall.
As I dried off in the sun, Matt texted me. We caught up about Taiwan and Hue. Then I changed and we were back on the bikes.
I decided that the little cement roads in towns were my least favorite to ride on. They were narrow and full of blind turns. I think it’s a coin toss between highway and dirt roads which I liked better. The speed of the highway was amazing, but the bobbing and weaving of the dirt roads was fun.
But for this next stretch it was all about speed. And as we cruised up into the hills overlooking the lagoon, it felt like pure freedom. I didn’t care about worms or flights or homesickness or the past 8 months or life when I get home or what comes next. It may be cliche but it truly was just me and the open road.
At one point, we were crossing a bridge. There were a lot of trucks going both ways, and, as we established, trucks kill people. There were too many trucks in oncoming traffic to pass the 18 wheeler I was behind. I don’t know if it’s because I’ve ridden so many grab bikes, or if it’s because I’ve just grown ballsy, but after careful consideration, I knew what to do.
I blared my horn, I accelerated, and I passed him on the narrow right shoulder between the truck and the railing. Thinking small thoughts, like I have a million times on Grab bikes, I whipped around the truck and sped off into traffic.
I am so Vietnamese I thought proudly.
The next stretch was Hai Van pass. Now if you think about it, this was my third time riding a motorbike. Going straight for the mountains is a bit like taking a new driver over the Rockies on their third day behind the wheel. The switch back turns freaked me out a bit but the hardest part was actually keeping my eyes on the road as I drove. The views along the coast were enchanting. It was a bit smoggy so I couldn’t see all the way to Danang but it didn’t matter. The coastline was beautiful and the aspens along the the trail were the first familiar foliage I’ve seen in 8 months.
On the other side, we stopped for lunch. We had Mi Quang noodles with beef. They aren’t my favorite Vietnamese food, but they are definitely a tasty dish. I’m sure my guide’s job is easier for someone who is just backpacking Vietnam. Having been here for 8 months, none of his tidbits or tips were new to me.
Riding through Danang was interesting. There was a funny juxtaposition. It was in Danang about 2 months ago that I started to hate Vietnam. I felt so scammed by everything in this city and it really started to jade my view of the whole country. Following that visit with the terrifying hike, and then frustrating experiences in Hanoi, and disappointing views in Halong bay, the homesickness and frustration started to grow. But then we hiked in Sapa and it was beautiful. And we went to Thailand and I missed Vietnam. And coming back and rediscovering the food and the unique brand of crazy has been fun. And seeing so much history in Hue was amazing. And this bike ride over the pass was magical. Danang was the keystone in my frustration with Vietnam and now I get to come back to it loving Vietnam!
On the flip side, traffic in Danang was terrifying. There were so many one ways and red lights and four to six lane roads. My guide didn’t seem phased by it as we kept our 70km/hour speed zooming through town.
Hoi An was about 30 minutes passed Danang. The road opened up again just out of town and we clipped along. At one red light as we entered Hoi An, my guide pointed out how to get to the beach.
Hoi An is famous for fashion, with silk and leather being huge exports. Many people buy cheap suits and jackets here. My guide introduced me to his sister who is a tailor. She gave me her card and I told her I’d come back.
We left my bike at her shop and my driver took me the last 9 minutes on the back of his bike to my homestay. It was a little outside of town in the most suburban looking neighborhood I’ve seen in Vietnam.
In the end, riding the motorbike over the pass was everything I’d hoped it would be. It was one of the most memorable adventures I’ve had traveling. I will definitely come back to Vietnam to do it again.
Blue Suitcase Adventures 