The best live-music event I've ever attended in Saigon took place this past Sunday. Saigon Outcast, a creative collective housed on a plot of land across from a trio of luxury apartment towers in District 2, features a half-pipe, graffiti-covered walls, a grill and a bar, an eclectic collection of seating and a couple of shipping containers stacked on top of each other where people can hang out. Outcast opened early last year and has become very popular among young expats and Vietnamese. There have been quite a few events that I intended to go to, but I had never actually made it out until this weekend. Unsurprisingly, this type of alternative, youth-oriented place hasn't gone without controversy, though the source of the complaints is rather surprising: expat mothers. A couple of months ago a group of (apparently French) moms tried to get Outcast shut down since they claimed it was a hotbed of drug use and underage drinking. And I thought the French were supposed to be open to stuff like that?
All photos courtesy of neeveedamo.com.
Anyways, on Sunday Outcast hosted an event called Extinction that featured three local bands and a two-man Indie rock outfit from California called The Dodos. Live music is one of my favorite social events, and anyone who has read this blog for a while knows that I think the music scene here blows. Fortunately, finally, things are changing.
Two of the local bands that played consist of expats - Brian Wilson's Brain and Joy Oi! I had seen both the previous Saturday and really enjoyed their shows. They are both rock-based with a bit of an experimental edge, though they have very different playing styles and lyrical content. Instruments include the usual staples of guitar, bass, and drums, as well as keyboards and newer technology like iPads and computers.
Brian Wilson's Brain
Joy Oi!
The third local band was Time Keeper, a post-rock all-instrumental group consisting of two young Vietnamese guys. They have built up a bit of a name for themselves recently, and their guitar & keyboard/computer based songs are unlike anything else you'll hear in Saigon, or all of Vietnam for that matter.
One half of Time Keeper
These bands played through the afternoon, and the headlining Dodos took to the half-pipe somewhere around 8pm. I knew nothing about the band going it, but they were fantastic. The stripped-down set consisted of nothing but drums and an electric guitar, as well as some great vocals. There was a lot of energy, and the crowd was great. It was obvious that everybody was enjoying the show.
The Dodos
These types of events are exactly what Saigon needs. There were over five hours of music, and every single song was original content. For most of the 30+ months I've lived here the music scene has consisted of little more than lukewarm cover bands. There are some very talented musicians and a handful of underground scenes, but it's tough to get exposure when the authorities are still so intent on dominating culture, older Vietnamese are suspicious of anything involving tattoos and guitars, and most young Vietnamese only listen to complete shit. We seem to be at a turning point though. Extinction was fantastic, and over the next few months Q4 is hosting a handful of promising international acts. A year ago the list of biggest acts to hit Saigon included the Backstreet Boys, Big Bang and Taio Cruz. It's time some respectable artists with actual talent started getting added to that.
Here's a Dodos song for your listening pleasure. I recommend you get your hands on a few of their albums.
The only disappointing part of the night was when I nearly ripped the nail off my left big toe with my moto's kickstand as I got ready to leave District 2. Sometimes I wonder how I've made it this far in life without killing myself.
After a brilliantly sunny, completely dry Tuesday this week, Wednesday brought a miserably gray, rain-soaked morning and afternoon. I was in my room, bored and putting off a ton of writing I need to do, so I got out my rarely-used zoom lens and snapped a few moody black & white shots just before another storm moved in.
As luck would have it, after a dark day nightfall brought a ton of light with it, in the form of an epic heat lightning storm to the south and west. The lightning was distant, and there was a lot of urban light in the foreground, but I was able to get this decent long-exposure shot from my living room (as well as a short video).
Went out to a Vietnamese nightclub with a bunch of friends last night, and was instantly reminded of how ridiculous these places are. The joint was called Lava, on Nam Khi Khoi Nghia. Upon walking in we were greeted to the usual sight at such establishments: an empty dance floor surrounded by overly dressed people with their arms crossed and gallons of hair product on top of their heads. Next to the sink in the men's room sat a communal comb and bottle of styling gel. There was a table of girls in painted-on dresses and bored faces tapping away on their iPhone 5's, waiting for Mr. Right to show up. Or just anyone with a bunch of money and a nice motorbike.
The wait staff, dressed in black pants and white long-sleeve shirts, stood around aimlessly. The huge assortment of leather couches sat empty, since you had to buy a bottle just to use them. There was more security staff than in the White House. At one point I was accidentally walking towards the women's bathroom, and one bouncer roughly shoved me in the right direction. They were not happy campers.
A DJ stood in his booth above the floor spinning what seemed like a cycle of the same five or six terrible remixes of already terrible songs. Deep bass rattled my chest, while the signature ear-splitting volume of Vietnamese clubs made sure that sign language was the only way to communicate. There were more lasers and strobe lights than The Empire Strikes Back.
The club advertised that every group of four girls got a free bottle of Belvedere, but even though there were around 10 girls in the group we were informed that only set of four would get the bottle. For some reason obnoxious, unappealing plates of fruit are popular at Viet clubs, and two were set down on our tables. The bottle arrived, along with a bunch of painfully expensive cans of lychee soda. Out of nowhere two depressed-looking girls in American flag bikinis began 'dancing' on the stage. Their performance was so dull we weren't even paying attention, and after a couple of minutes they returned to the dark recesses of the club.
A bunch of us then took our turn on the dance floor, much to the amusement of the staff (or chagrin, depending on who you looked at). Security surrounded the floor, making it feel a bit like a flashy North Korean prison camp. We soon discovered what wasn't allowed on the floor: drinks, not wearing shoes, having too much fun. As noted the music was atrocious, and I was probably bleeding from both ears, but we didn't really care because you can't help but be ridiculous in such a ridiculous place.
After plenty of terrible dancing we got the bill, and somehow it came out to almost $175. Jesus. How the hell does anybody afford these places?
We stumbled down the street to a new-ish bar called Emergency Room, which is decked out in pictures of impossibly busty anime girls and waitresses dressed as slutty nurses. Very classy. We had a great time, and the music was excellent - when we arrived Queens of the Stone Age were rocking out of the sound system. After staying there for entirely too long a few hardy souls, myself included, went for dim sum on Nguyen Trai. By the time I exited the taxi in front of my building it was 5am. Oops.
I've returned from H2H with a renewed sense of the things that make living in Saigon great. For some unknown reason I seem to be looking at things afresh. Perhaps this has something to do with the fact that a few people back home have expressed surprise that I've once again decided to extend my time here. It's tough to describe to someone who hasn't been here, but Saigon is at a nearly perfect crossroad where you can do all kinds of western-style stuff for developing country prices (while still clinging to its unique character, though parts of the city are beginning to look like just another city of chains and tourists).
Allow me to share my Friday. After finishing work at 1 I grabbed street food for lunch (rice, grilled fish and tofu for $1.50) before heading over to the original L'usine to meet up with a group of guys for a planned 'boys day'. In adorable, vaguely homoerotic fashion we browsed the goods in the store section before having a cupcake each. L'usine is famed for its cupcakes, and the red velvet didn't disappoint.
Afterwards we walked over to the Bitexco Tower and headed up to Alto, the recently-opened lounge on the building's 52nd floor. It was 5pm, time for happy hour. I ordered a Peroni, at $3.50 an eye-watering price for Saigon, but in the west an imported beer with this view would force you into bankruptcy. For a while we had the place to ourselves, and we felt like the lords of the city: hundreds of feet higher than almost any other building, with a sweeping view across several districts. And since Alto is connected to the Bitexco's (supposedly non-functional) helipad, we dreamed up Bond-like scenarios of crazy escapes. Eventually the sun faded , and as the city's lights came on we couldn't help but bask in the moment - very few cities offer you an experience like that for such a relatively low price tag.
I had dinner plans so I split and headed out to Tan Binh district for an airport chicken session with two other friends. The chicken was, as usual, amazing, and cost $6. So, an amazing day with a mix of local food and high-end treats for about $15. Even with the insane traffic and frustrating cultural differences, this city has an awful lot going for it.
On a slightly different topic, this morning I came across an amazing tool on The Atlantic's website. NASA, Google, and a few other organizations used 30 year's worth of satellite imagery to create a time-lapse of the entire planet. Go here, scroll down, and you can zoom in anywhere on earth and see what has changed over the last three decades. A number of startling environmental changes are noticeable, but what I find just as interesting (and equally worrying) is the massive growth of a number of cities. If you want your mind blown zoom in on Shanghai, for example, and watch how far it has spread in recent years. Just for fun, here is Saigon in 1984:
And 2012:
The difference is dramatic. In the first image there is almost nothing directly east of the airport. Now that is one of the city's most densely-populated, overcrowded areas. The city's flashiest areas today, Districts 2 and 7, simply didn't exist in '84. (2 is the area on the tongue-shaped peninsula in the center-right, 7 is at the bottom below that last canal.) Almost the entire frame has been filled in with urbanity. How much farther out will Saigon's development reach in another 30 years?
The rain is back. It isn't full-blown monsoon season yet, but several recent afternoons have been marked by massive thunderheads drifting over the city. Oddly, my neighborhood hasn't actually seen much rain, but I've watched from my bedroom window as other areas have gotten soaked. Two days ago I got caught in my first storm while driving this year - combined with rush hour it wasn't particularly pleasant.
This rain has reminded me that, after last year's wet season ended, I vowed to leave before the start of the next one. Indeed, I've been saying for several months that I would be heading out in July/August. I'm here to tell you that that won't be happening. Between my thumb operation a few months ago and expenses on H2H I've blown through a significant portion of my local bank account. I'm still fine, but I'd prefer to have more saved up before I pack up and move again (and I don't mean back home). So I need to work at least a few more months to make that money back and more, which is fine because I really like the work I'm doing. Currently putting together the June cover story of AsiaLIFE, and I'll share that once it's published. I also have a few freelance projects I'd like to try to work on.
And, after all of the bitching I've done on this page about there not being anything to do here but get drunk, Saigon's cultural scene is really starting to pick up. There are things going on that I wouldn't have dreamed of in 2010, or even 2012. Loud Minority, a newly-created music promotion group, is bringing several good international acts (Little Barrie, Cub Scouts, Japandroids) to Q4, which I hear is the best music venue in the city. More local bands are popping up as well, and places like Decibel and Saigon Outcast now consistently host interesting, creative events. On June 1st there is even going to be a New Orleans-themed jazz festival. Can't wait to see what that's like. It seems that things really are starting to change here.
So, there it is - my departure date has once again been indefinitely delayed. A few friends are talking about cycling South America in January, so maybe that will be it. I have no idea. I am planning on traveling with my roommate Anthony before he heads back to the U.S. - we're thinking motorbiking in Ha Giang Province and then two weeks in Myanmar, late July/early August. Looking forward to that.
There should less negativity from me moving forward, largely thanks to the above reasons (except for the rain), so let me know what you think. As always if there's something you really want to see discussed or photographed just let me know.
Fortunately, following the disaster in Lien Son, there were no further hiccups as we inexorably made our way to Saigon. I knew I would be stuck in rear van for the remainder thanks to my pulled quads, and I had resigned myself to that fact. This didn't make not riding any easier, but I had accepted that there was nothing I could do. At least on this day I would have some company, as Andrea wasn't riding since she was still feeling the impact of her accident.
The team rode 110km to Bao Loc, a town I had really enjoyed last year. The weather was great for much of the day.
Watching 'The Avengers' in black & white at a drink stop
Unfortunately a major storm rolled in shortly after we arrived, meaning we wouldn't be able to hang out around the town's lake. We did find some great bo kho and a cafe with awesome desserts, so at least the evening wasn't a total wash.
The next day was a 70km cycle to Dinh Quan, our last stop before the end. Shortly after departing Bao Loc we hit the huge downhill that drops you out of the Central Highlands and into true southern Vietnam. This would be the last of the good scenery, as these are the mountains that continue up into Da Lat. Once we hit the bottom we would almost be in the seemingly endless sprawl of Saigon. Everyone was excited for the big descent after all of the climbing we had done, but people were also a little nervous about the traffic. Minibuses going back and forth from Da Lat are notoriously insane, and no one wanted to be run off when there was no shoulder.
downhill stances
Here is the 16-minute downhill as seen from the GoPro attached to Andrea's helmet:
Everyone made it down safely and carried on towards Dinh Quan under the blazing late April sun. After a brief lunch stop we hit the town, which is little more than a stopover on QL20 in between Saigon and Da Lat. We did find a nice little cafe though and enjoyed a number of beers on our last night. It was hard to believe that there was just one day left - the last week or two of the ride had absolutely flown by, and we had mixed feelings about it ending. Yes, it would be nice to get back to the familiar (and hamburgers) in Saigon, but we had bonded as a team and there's something alluring about being on the road every day, exploring the unknown on a bicycle.
The next morning, after one last group stretch, the team headed out for the final 110km to Saigon. There wouldn't be any scenery worth looking at, there would only be thickening traffic as we neared the country's biggest, most chaotic city.
After a few hours of brutal heat (not for me in the air conditioned van, obviously) and relentless honking trucks and buses we convened at McSorley's, an Irish bar in District 2 for a beer before the final push into central Saigon. My friend Johnny was there on a motorbike and I hopped on the back with the camcorder to film the last moments of the journey (that will be shared later). We headed over the Saigon Bridge, past The Manor and Saigon Pearl in Binh Thanh District, and then over the canal to the entrance of the zoo, where we had a final regroup before riding down Le Duan to the front gates of the Reunification Palace. It was awesome watching the team celebrate their accomplishment, and seeing the reactions of confused drivers we passed. A raucous crowd awaited us at the Palace, and bedlam ensued. I was immediately handed a hamburger, a lemonade, and a beer, and the celebration began. Bewildered security guards looked on, and eventually people started filtering home. The ride was over.
Here is a GoPro video of our arrival, as filmed from the top of Emma's helmet:
Also, H2H is still fundraising until the end of May. We've raised roughly $35,000 so far, and any further donations would be massively appreciated. I am just $75 away from reaching personal goal of $2,000. If you'd like to donate please visit: https://www.firstgiving.com/fundraiser/michaeltatarski/h2h-charity-bike-ride-2013
Finally, I'd like to share one of my favorite videos from the ride - at the roller disco in Thanh My, Mike W. took part in what he thought was a dance-off with a shirtless construction worker. The ending was quite a surprise. As filmed by yours truly as I skated in circles around them.
This day probably ranks as the most insane in H2H's four-year history. The team was set to ride 110km from Lien Son to Lam Ha. They had set off, and I was sitting in the rear support van, waiting to leave our hotel, my injured quads leaving me unable to ride.
Around 8:15 I got a call saying that Andrea had been in an accident, and she would need the spare bike, which was in the van. We took off and soon arrived at the scene, since the team had only gone 6km. Andrea's bike and a motorbike were lying in the middle of the road. The moto looked alright, but Andrea's front wheel was snapped and the frame was obviously bent. A bunch of locals were crowded around, while our team was standing around farther down the road.
I learned that Andrea and Adam had been riding out front when they saw that their entire lane up ahead was covered in rice grains being dried in the sun. This is a common enough occurrence, and we always ride around the agricultural products. This being a narrow two-lane country road, Andrea had no choice but to cross the centerline into the oncoming lane (something that people do all the time here anyway). The only traffic coming was a woman on a motorbike, and they made eye contact while they were still a good 50 meters away. Andrea stayed as close as she could to her lane, while the woman kept coming directly at her. As the distance closed she made no effort to move, and the next thing Andrea knew the woman drove straight into her in a direct head-on collision. Somehow Andrea stayed upright, but the woman fell over. A crowd formed immediately and took the woman away to a hospital before the rest of us even arrived.
Adam called the police, and we all stood around wondering what on earth was wrong with the woman on the moto. Both Adam and Andrea had noticed something odd in her eyes, and they guessed she may have been going through some sort of seizure while driving. Whatever the case, she quite intentionally slammed right into Andrea, who suffered some bruises and scrapes but nothing worse.
The cops arrived and immediately began asking questions. Andrea and Adam explained that the rice (which had been quickly swept away immediately after the crash) was covering their lane, etc. The cops were doing a lot of random wandering around, and one guy was even inspecting the road surface for skid marks. There were none because the woman didn't brake. Through the translation skills of Vien, a Vietnamese-Australian rider, Adam and Andrea described everything.
Then, things started to get entertaining. In some bizarre CSI imitation, the cops created spray-paint outlines around both bikes, as if they were bodies at a murder scene.
Andrea had moved her bike to the side of the road after the crash, though someone moved it back onto the road later. The cops asked her to put her bike EXACTLY where she had placed it. Then they sprayed an outline there.
Adam, Vien and Andrea wondering what the hell the purpose of all this is
Then they busted out a tape measure and began measuring all sorts of distances - how far from the crash point to an electrical pole, how far from the crash point to a random spot in the grass, how far from the crash point to where Andrea moved her bike, etc.
One cop (who looked like he was 15) noted detailed calculations based on the measurements.
The cops then asked the farmers nearby to lay their rice grains back out on the road so they could re-create the accident conditions. By this point the rest of the team had taken off since they had a lot of distance to cover, leaving me, Andrea, Adam and Vien with the rear support van. Though it was blisteringly hot out we were still in good spirits, as seeing this sort of Keystone Cops shenaniganry had us laughing in bemusement. They then measured the rice.
We were informed that the state police were now on their way from Buon Me Thuot, since foreigners were involved. More local cops kept arriving, all in uniforms of various shades of green. Locals kept popping up as well, with the occasional random person chipping in their two cents. After about three hours of standing in the sun we were told that we would need to go to the police station back in Lien Son to finish whatever paperwork was needed. There was no word of the woman on the motorbike, and her family had done nothing. An uncle had showed up at some point, but he left after hearing what had happened.
We went for lunch and then arrived at the police station at 1:30. Andrea and Vien were immediately sat down in separate rooms to begin preparing accounts of what happened. Adam and I were left to bake outside, where a young cop who spoke broken English tried to converse with us. A little while later an older man in civilian clothes appeared and seemed very excited to see me. I figured he hadn't seen many Westerners, but then he explained that he had seen us at a restaurant in town the previous night. During dinner we had done rice wine shots with some Vietnamese men, and he had been one of them. Turns out he was the police commissioner of Lien Son.
He invited Adam and I into his office for tea, and we were happy to oblige because it was air-conditioned. People came and went and the afternoon slipped away, and we had no idea what was going on with Andrea and Vien because they wouldn't let us into their rooms. Our amusement was slipping into annoyance, and when the cop with bad English suddenly blurted out, apropos of nothing, that he thought the accident was Andrea's fault, the mood descended into anger. He said she should have stopped, or that she should have just ridden over the rice, and listened to none of our counter-arguments.
After this we walked into Andrea's room and found that the statements were done. Vien had had a problem with his because at one point it said Andrea 'caused' the accident. The Vietnamese word for cause has a couple of meanings, but he wanted it changed since it implied that she was at fault. They changed it in his statement, but Andrea's said the same thing and she had already signed it (it was all in Vietnamese). Vien then demanded that he be allowed to change the wording. The cops refused, and he threatened to rip the statement in half. The translator kept repeating why Vien couldn't do it, to which he replied with, "Shut. The. Fuck. Up. I hope that's clear enough for you," before striking out the word for 'caused' and adding something else. Adam and I were looking at each other nervously, fearing that Vien's outburst would lead us into an episode of 'Locked Up Abroad.' Luckily for us the cops didn't really seem to care.
By now it was around 4pm, and we had no idea where this was going. Andrea was demanding that they let us leave by 5pm, but they countered that we now needed to visit the woman from the accident in the hospital, which was two hours away in the wrong direction. We refused, saying we were on a schedule and that we had to be in Lam Ha by that night, not to mention that we had 16 other riders to worry about and nothing but the clothes on our back with us. They told us that the woman was bleeding from one of her ears, and that she was sleeping.
We were in the station courtyard bickering when a storm moved in, and we all sat down in another room in another building. We had moved beyond discussing the accident and the cops were completely focused on what we needed to do to help the woman. It was clear that they were placing all of the blame on Andrea. They asked her, "Why didn't you stop?", "Why didn't you ride on the rice?", "Why were you in the wrong lane?", and other incredibly stupid questions. Their incompetence was frightening. We argued that the road had a broken centerline, meaning you can cross into the wrong lane if need be. They countered that you can only do that when you are passing somebody. Well, we said, she was passing the rice. And by the way, have you seen how people drive here? Every day we were almost killed by retards in tour buses passing other tour buses. They get away scot-free. Not to mention, Andrea was on a BICYCLE. How is she in the wrong in an accident with a moto? We might as well have been talking to brick walls, for they ignored everything that came out of our mouths.
By now all four of us were close to the breaking point, and we had all blown up at different times. It was almost dark and I was getting phone calls from other riders - people had been stuck in a storm, there were flats, people were stranded on a mountain miles from town with the light fading and our main support van stuck in town 110km away with us. The rest of the team was now in danger because these moronic cops were taking so long. We told them that more people were about to need a hospital if they didn't hurry, but this was ignored as well.
Finally Vien got on the phone with the woman's husband to find out what they wanted. He wanted to meet face-to-face. The cops had been insisting that, according to Vietnamese law, parties involved in an accident meet in person to reach an agreement. This was laughable, as we have all seen accidents where someone just drives off after knocking another person over. And we all knew that if this accident had been inverted, with Andrea lying on the ground and the woman OK, she would have taken off without thinking twice and no one would have cared if Andrea was in the hospital. Sadly, leaving immediately after the accident happened is probably what we should've done. It wouldn't have felt right morally, but it would've made our lives much easier.
We told the husband we didn't have time to meet in person. I even offered to buy them bus tickets to Saigon so we could meet after the ride, but this was ignored. So, the uncle who had been at the scene countless hours earlier returned. The family wanted 3 million ($150) for medical bills. Though none of us wanted to pay since this was just straight-up extortion because we were the foreigners, we agreed because we wanted to get the fuck out of this stupid town. I went to an ATM and got the money. Then the husband called back and said that, all of a sudden, she was bleeding more from her ear! Make that 9 million, whitey! We nearly flipped a table over, and they lowered it to 5 million ($250). I went back to the ATM and almost punched the screen in in my fury.
We handed the money over and then laid into the translator. He thought we were mad about the money - "But she is from a poor family, and medical expenses will hurt them!" We said we understood, but what made us furious was the way we were treated. The cops basically treated us like dogs. Not once did anybody ask if Andrea was OK, even though she had visible wounds, or mention that her bike had been destroyed. Not one of our arguments was listened to or considered. All responsibility and blame was placed on our shoulders. The woman's family had to do nothing but come and take money from us like parasites, while we had to deal with unprofessional, incompetent, and downright racist cops for 12 hours. There was no understanding of why were angry, and they didn't seem to care anyway.
If we had been Vietnamese this would have been a completely different story. This day was my worst since moving to this country, and illustrated many of its most serious problems. The way so many people see foreigners as walking banks is horrible (and I realize that isn't something unique to Vietnam), and the way tragedy is monetized here is even worse. I've seen countless stories about a local government giving a family a few million dong when a baby dies in an accident. How will people ever move beyond naked greed in a system like that? We explained that we weren't just bumbling tourists, that we are here trying to do good things, that we were riding for charity, that we all live in Vietnam, and that we were trying to make things right with the woman. Our reward was to be treated like sub-humans.
Around 8:30pm we finally piled back into our van and left the station, escaping a 12-hour black hole of bureaucracy and insanity. We returned to the restaurant we had eaten lunch at and were, thankfully, reminded of why this country can also be so great. We had a few great plates of mi xao bo and pounded a few beers while joking with our drivers and fawning over a baby. The owner, an older woman, was happy to see us, and we thanked her for charging us real prices and being a genuinely good person. We told her we would recommend the place to future H2H rides, and she was beaming. That was exactly what we needed after such a confusing, infuriating, mind-bending day.
We finally arrived in Lam Ha at midnight and immediately crashed. Thankfully the rest of the team had arrived safely hours before. What an experience.
EDIT: I forgot to mention this at first. Two days later we called the woman's husband to check on her and he was very vague and contradictory. First he said she was unconscious, then he said she was eating breakfast. We asked if she could speak, and he said she was passed out. Then he said she was communicating. We asked what she said about the accident, and he said nobody had asked her about it. It is entirely possible that this an elaborate ruse to get money from foreigners, that the woman kamikaze'd herself into Andrea's bike knowing she could get money from us. Or she may have actually been hurt. We have no idea.
I still have a fair bit to cover from the recently completed H2H ride (I am currently lazing about in bed after eating dangerous amounts of food over the past two days). I will post the rest over the next week, including a surreal 12-hour journey into the black hole of Vietnamese police bureaucracy, but right now I'd like to share something that requires less typing.
My friend Joe recently finished editing a film on last year's ride, and it's brought back some amazing memories. Give both parts a watch and let me know what you think. I loved it. (And the soundtrack is killer.) H2H 2012 Video Diary Part 1 from Joe Piechura on Vimeo.
H2H is also still accepting donations - we've raised around $35,000, and you can donate until the end of May. I need to raise $105 more to reach my goal of $2,000. I am currently sporting a thick one-month beard, and as an incentive I will allow the person whose donation puts me at 2 grand to choose a facial hair style. Photographic evidence will be provided. Donate here: https://www.firstgiving.com/fundraiser/michaeltatarski/h2h-charity-bike-ride-2013
The 80km ride from Ea Drang to Buon Me Thuot (BMT) was unremarkable, for the most part. The rough roads I had remembered from last year seemed even rougher, with severely potholed roads leading to bone-shattering riding, and moronic drivers causing numerous close calls. Luckily the weather was nice, and we made good progress to Buon Ho, where we had a drink and a quick bite to eat before carrying on.
Buon Ho is home to one of the most beautiful churches I've seen in Vietnam.
The last 20km into BMT were brilliant, on a beautifully-paved, mostly empty road that allowed us to simply smash the distance. We convened at the KFC at the edge of the city and pigged out on shitty chicken before heading to our hotel and beginning our second (and final) rest day. That night consisted of a good Vietnamese meal and a sprawling search for a karaoke with English songs. Horrific singing ensued. The following day saw little more than most of us lazing around the pool at the 3-star hotel down the street.
Riding day 21 soon arrived, and I was nervous. Last year I badly pulled my left quad shortly after leaving BMT, relegating me to the rear support van for the remaining five days. I still don't know why that happened, and the incident was on my mind as we headed out on the short, 49km ride down to Lien Son.
I felt fine at first but, sure enough, about 15 minutes in I started to feel a frighteningly familiar sensation in my left leg. I shifted into a low gear and tried to pedal out of it, but the pain wasn't going away. I stopped and waited for a few minutes, but I could tell things weren't improving. In disbelief and pure frustration I threw my bike into the van and took a seat, wondering how the hell this could be happening again. I had been crushing most of the ride, feeling fresh every day, and my legs felt fantastic. I was in great shape and felt confident that I could handle the rest. Now here I was stuck in a motorized vehicle again, completely disheartened. Considering how much work I put into organizing and leading H2H this year I felt even worse than in 2012. The fact that I wasn't able to finish last time was a big motivating factor in my decision to ride again, yet here I was facing the exact same goddamn problem. Unbelievable. The team was just as shocked as me.
Everyone else cruised through the ride and we arrived at Lak Resort in Lien Son, where we had stayed last year. Located on Lak Lake and with a pool on the grounds, we were excited to have a full afternoon here. Unfortunately, this turned into a perfect example of the joke that is Vietnam's service industry. The pool was empty thanks to a drought; there was no wi-fi in the rooms (though it said there was); there were no TV channels; and the restaurant had been moved 800 meters away. We asked for a discount, since the rooms cost around $15 a person and we were getting no amenities, but of course they said no. We made the easy decision to simply leave, perfectly unsatisfied by another encounter with the tourism sector. After settling into a hotel down the road we spent the afternoon relaxing and shooting the shit. I was still amazed that I had suffered an injury again, but the team camaraderie really helped me stay positive. Unfortunately this wouldn't last long, as the following day would turn into my absolute worse since moving to Vietnam.
In other news, I haven't shaved since H2H began a month ago, and I'm sporting a pretty thick beard. I am $170 away from meeting my goal of raising $2,000 for H2H this year, and I will let whoever puts me over that amount decide which facial hair style I should sport once I start shaving the beard. To donate please visit: https://www.firstgiving.com/fundraiser/michaeltatarski/h2h-charity-bike-ride-2013.
It was a beautiful dawn at the Thien An orphanage outside of Pleiku, and I took the chance to wander around for some pictures.
the football pitch that is being built
Eventually more riders joined me, and at one point we took part in a morning stretching class, which greatly amused everyone involved. Afterwards we enjoyed an amazing breakfast of bread baked fresh on the grounds, fruit, and cheese and cold cuts brought up from Saigon. After weeks of little more than pho and banh mi op la for breakfast this was a welcome treat, and we stuffed ourselves.
After a few group pictures we set off on our 115km ride to Ea Drang, a small town down the Ho Chi Minh Highway. Fortunately the major road construction from the previous day wasn't an issue, and we cruised through the first 60km fairly easily. After lunch, however, things got more difficult. It was a brutally hot day, though that didn't affect me as much as it did some of the others. What really slowed everyone down was the wicked headwind that kicked up with 25km to go. Normally I can cover that distance in an hour, but I was crawling, and I was getting frustrated. With 5km to go I stopped at a shady drink stall and downed a gigantic coconut, which really gave me a boost for the last stretch. I rolled into town alone and found our guest house. As other riders arrived the verdict was that this had been one of the toughest days, simply thanks to the heat and wind of the last quarter of the ride. We were all exhausted, and this was a perfect illustration of how one or two factors can completely change the complexion (both physically and mentally) of a day. Luckily the following day would bring us to Buon Me Thuot, where we were set to have our second (and much needed) rest day.
