A bike ride to Hiep Phouc

The original plan was a ride out to the Mekong delta and an overnight stay down there.  Nobody was up for it ( except me and the organiser ) so we agreed on the softer option of a ride out of Phu My Hung into the countryside. 

There’s masses of building work going on here and the first part of the ride was through vast, under-construction towers.  One day this area will be occupied by the affluent escaping the cramped conditions in HCMC but right now it’s a world of construction traffic grinding along in a cloud of grit and dust, not the most pleasant of riding conditions.

But that soon gave way to a smaller village strung out along the single carriage road.  Shops, cafes, hairdressers and motorbike repair shops on both sides selling the same stuff as everywhere.  The going was better here with less traffic to dodge.  Some of the local kids waved at us.  They must think we are mad, why aren’t we in air-conditioned taxis like all the other foreigners?

Eventually the road ran out  at Hiep Phouc a sleepy village on the banks of one of the main rivers.  We looked at the river, had a rest and coffee before exploring a little further. The whole area here is a watery maze of rivers and tidal channels, all murky brown with a collection of floating debris being washed backwards and forwards with the tide.

The land is very flat and criss-crossed by muddy ditches between fields that look like they get a regular flooding.  Some of the village houses are simple wood and corrugated iron affairs and some are huge villas guarded by heavy gates and barking dogs.  The divide between rich and poor reaches down to this little village from the city quite easily.

We rode back on a different route, past an industrial estate and through more local districts before returning to Phu My hung and it’s fancy shops, restaurants and luxury housing.  After 4 hours of cycling I was exhausted.  I need to spend more time on my bike getting fit.

Bills

I paid my bill the other day for water and for the maintenance of the block, it was about £12 for the month.  They put a bill in your post box next to the entrance to the underground car park.  Mine is labelled F16-7 and I have a key for it.   You pick up the bill and take it to the site office under 2E.  The counter staff there happily take your money and stamp your bill for you.  You have to go to a special bank for the electricity bill and to a special building on the edge of Phu My Hung for the phone and internet.  It's a one story building set in the middle a small green and looks like a motorway service station.  No automation or online payment available here, just me walking around the local area with a clutch of bills in one hand and a wad of cash in the other.

The service charge is worth the money.  They take away the rubbish, keep the lifts going, do the gardens and run the security.  Security in the car park can be annoying as I’m only allowed to enter and leave on my bike by one of the entrances as I don’t have an electronic ticket.  They give me slips of paper, one half for me to keep in my pocket and one half for them to staple to my bike.  When I leave they just collect the two halves but never check them.  Maybe I should hot wire one of the fancy 4X4’s that live in the car park and try and get out with that.

Every morning the small army of workers who run the place squat outside the site office chattering and eating their breakfast.  They wake me up and I know by their sounds that it’s time for me to go to work too.  They work long hours and are constantly collecting rubbish, weeding the gardens and the other day, there was one cleaning the grout between the tiles by the lift.  That seemed a chore too far to me and I’m sure the worker would much rather be sitting in the shade beside the site office eating another breakfast.

On my bike

It's slightly ironic that only a few months ago I was getting rid of a bike and now I'm buying one. I had this cheap, heavy, clunking thing that I'd bought a few years ago when I didn't live in London. It was fine at the time and all I could afford. Once back home the idea of peddling uphill on the Archway Road with buses and cars grinding past me and then lugging the thing up four flights of stairs finally convinced me that cycling was not for me.

I sold it in the end, with an ad in Gumtree that got a massive response. A young guy came round and for £45 he got the bike, a lock and a bag of tools. What he didn't know was that I was ready to dump the thing outside Sainsbury's and let it get stolen. I hope he's getting his money's worth and doesn't read this and find out that he could have had it for free.

But times have changed, I live in a very flat part of the world and my block has an enormous car park where my new bike now lives. Well, not new but new to me as I bought it from an Australian who lives nearby. And I've upgraded from heavy and clunking to light and swishing, I have bought a Trek mountain bike. What's prompted me? One of the teachers is planning a cycling weekend into the countryside and I really wanted to go so I got onto craigslist and found myself a bike. The gears click professionally, the saddle fits comfortably and the breaks stop me dead, even if they squeak when they do it.

Tonight I bought a lock and a leg for it to stand on when it's not going along.  Now it's in the car park at the bottom of 1F, my building. Tomorrow it'll take me to the university and back. The traffic is mad around here on the main roads and I hope I survive the experience. The motorbikes are shoals of fish, dodging out of the way of the bike in front that suddenly changes course. Every day I see another student in plaster or with cuts and bruises on their faces, arms and legs. Perhaps one day I'll be brave enough to get a motorbike and risk my life on the crazy roads but for now I'm happy to be on my new bike.

The first of the first two thousand and eleven

I'm sitting on a beach, it's 8:40 pm and the waves are slapping at the sand in the dark. I've eaten fish in a restaurant across from the slightly run down resort I'm staying in for the weekend. I have Monday off because of the New Year holiday so I've got out of HCMC and am in Mui Ne, a fancy beach resort 5 or so hours out of the city.

I was up at 6am and into a taxi from Phu My Hung to catch my 8am bus to the beach. It's a refreshing break from normal life even just for a day or two. The bus turned out to be a sleeper bus and anyone who read my previous blog will know how I feel about them. The passengers were a mix of backpackers and Vietnamese people and it crawled it's way for hours through the northern suburban sprawl of the city eventually finding the countryside and then the coast.

Mui Ne is classic seaside resort territory with a long long strip of hotels, restaurants, shops and holiday bungalows catering for all pockets. As I'm habitually mean, and not yet used to my current high salary, I'm not in the 4 star resort complexes surrounded by gifts shops and bars but my place is fine, it has a pool shaped like a teardrop and its own private beach. Across the road there's a great restaurant where two ladies squat by the roadside and barbecue fish for you. There's windsurfing, jet skiing and jeep safaris to be had just like back in Europe. Sadly no hammocks in the grounds of the resort, which are otherwise lovely and tropical. There are coconuts floating in the water and little crabs scurrying up the beach and popping into their tiny holes in the sand.

Tomorrow I plan to rent a bike and explore, or maybe not, just doze by the pool.