"Wow" Must Be Fun to Say: Day 1 riding in Vietnam

"Wow" I said. I was indeed happy to have found a jug of filtered water to fill up with. It was at the side of a vender of white buns and a group of smiling men lazed about it. They were quite interested in us foreign bicyclers; "wowh" they repeated after me. While I eagerly filled my water bottle, Mr. Bun handed Lady Elise and I two bags of the soft little things. "Wow!" I said again.

"Wowh" they all repeated, laughing all pleased amongst themselves.

We handed Mr. Bun money for the water and buns but he refused. Oh, so involuntary, there I go: "wow!", I said a third time. "Wowh!" they all went again.

"Wow" must be fun to say. Those good old "w" sounds. Mr. Bun then added, "Vietnam goooood" all smiles. I pedaled away laughing and tingling from generosity and human interactions.

(this helps assuage the unhappy finding that someone stole the collapsible tire pump from my bicycle--bummer)

Today was our first day riding in Vietnam! We pedaled out of the city of Saigon, in the lahar of buzzing motorbikes, my personal space shrunken and quivering. "Map check!" we'd call back and forth to each other, lost in the seething mass of 4-lane roads, huge bridges, impassable traffic, and pull over for a breather and to find out that we couldn't tell where we were. We wanted out of this noisy busy expensive city.

The sun was a papaya-colored orb and we headed due east towards her; my whole being unclenched markedly once we found ourselves on the map (Nuoc Duy and Nghu Nai or some such--recognizing and remembering road names I struggle so much with!) and Were Going The Correct Direction.

We rode through a marshy area, full of wide roads and industry. The cars had a lane and the motor bikes (and us) had a little lane, divided off all separately with a cement thingy. We rode a ferry for 1000 (about 5 cents) to cross a large river. Vats of steaming pho (my inaugural pho for this trip) were our breakfast for a dollar each: we chop-sticked fresh herbs into the bottoms of the steaming bowls, assuaging ourselves this would sanitize the greens just in case. Fleshy rice noodles, bits of chewy beef, flecks of green onions and lemon grass, and little oilspills of chili oil. I was hungry and it was perfect.

Passing through a town, markets spilling onto the roads. Flowers decorated the spaces outside people's homes, and the medians of highways were pink with bougainvillea. All this tending was such a change from Cambodia all was trash and empty dirt.

Also we went probably a whole 2 hours without being honked at. Sing alleluia amen!

Then, inexplicably, the population thinned out and we found ourselves ensconced on an extraordinarily wide road, smoothly paved and delicious for our tires. Completely alone. It was almost eerie. We couldn't find ourselves on the map but we bicycled east, not even that concerned we were "lost", but instead relishing the space and the peace and the trees. What a remarkable contrast from this mornings claustrophobic riding experience.

Our expansive road then came to a dead end. Just like that. I had no idea what this road was for, all smooth and delicious. Were they planning some huge development project? A support road for a certain agricultural harvest season? We turned down a red dirt track to uncoil ourselves from this dead end, threaded through a path in a field of cassava, and voila! Back on pavement. Pavement with a cafe.

So Vietnamese coffee, percolated fresh on our little plastic red table, mixed with sweetened condensed milk, and over ice. Not that this pleasure could be heightened even more, except that I drunk it under a thatched shade roof, in a hammock.

A hammock.

All in all, about 90 kilometers today, glorying in the good pavement and spacious country riding. "Dreamy!" Lay-DEE Elise kept exclaiming, and I sang out "la!" in complete agreement. We end tonight in the small town of Cam My, continuing tomorrow east to the coast!

Wowh!