Planting rice in Vietnam
2006 год (Китай–Лаос–Вьетнам–Мьянма–Таиланд–Малайзия–Индонезия–Австралия–Новая Зеландия–Австралия–Япония–Корея–Россия (Владивосток)–Монголия–Россия)
Near the border, as usual, changed flags – Lao to Vietnamese, and another flag of Vietnam taped to the front of the motorcycle. It’s probably a psychological thing. And it works just 100%! It is evident that people’s eyes light up, there is a keen interest that is supposedly for white biker with our flag? Very respectful I am. But, by and large, it is still a tribute to the people and the instinct of self-preservation. I think that if I’m in Africa and just went by country with their flags, most of all, I wouldn’t have a problem in Tunisia, when they put me in the dungeon to determine the identity. I have not finished the 4th stage of the rally, but now I can clearly imagine that I will “finish” Africa-and start from there, from where I was deported (Tunisia). Fundamentally!
The procedure of crossing the border is simple: filled in the Declaration, issued a temporary import of the motorcycle-and go! On the Vietnamese border, I was allowed to take photos and shoot videos. They (border guards and customs) as one all perefotografirovalis on my bike on their cell phones. The road to winn – continuous mountains and very difficult visibility. Mountains over kilometers through the 70s, it became easier. But the quality of roads is terrible! I have, as on trajectory down-Thailand, Laos, Vietnam. Moreover, Laos is worse than Thailand, and Vietnam is worse than Laos. But I’m still going to Cambodia, and there, they say, even worse than in Vietnam. Let’s see…
Stopped in the village of NA PHET – hunger is not my aunt. Immediately noted that the cuisine of Vietnam is very different from the cuisine of Laos. In General, there is not – nor salty, neither bitter nor sweet. All meals are served unsalted. Given that kind of seasoning, very bitter and smells like swamp. Ate rice, drank Pepsi Cola. Maybe even in the city, eat like human beings. Drove into this very town-VINN, found a hotel and immediately, without wasting time, I say to the taxi driver: come, they say, show your memorable places. Agreed that 2 hours will give him 10$ and feed.
We went to the memorial of the victims of the war with the Americans. The Ho Chi Minh monument. In their Church. Then the taxi driver sticks his fingers in his mouth – say, it’s time to eat. Took me to my favorite place to eat. Ran up the cook and started to offer different meals (they were either dining, whether dining at home, where they fed their guests). I trusted the taxi driver, he ordered a full table – and all ate one! I again settled for drinks. Then we went to the outskirts of the city to see the life of the peasants. Just live in poverty. I went into their huts: bunk, table and a lot of children…
When I was driving from Laos to Vietnam, my friend Vixay said that in Vietnam people another and can easily run into local thugs (racket). Of course I all of this envisaged, times this there is in other countries, then why in Vietnam and Laos (here I have was “roof” – guide Visay) should not be these elements? It happened, I had to have a talk with their “brother”. When I went in search of maps of roads of Vietnam, in the same area I was approached by a few people and one in English began to ask, what are you looking for and where they came from. I immediately realized that it was for the guys, plus they at first thought I was American (because of my hat). I told them where I was from and I gave them my beautiful cards. Their senior with me was photographed, and then gave me the motorcyclist, and with it I without problems found the card. In General, I then explained that it was types of looking for order in the city. Ah here is, now friends I have became more… But the most interesting thing is, when I arrived at the hotel in the evening, I was waiting for the head of the Communist party Committee comrade bounma Phet SAI Yong. He hotel administration reported the arrival of the biker-world wider from the former USSR.
I was touched! There was the press, television, dinner at their expense. We spoke to him at length on various topics. From our conversation I understood that this is a Communist of the old school. But most of all, he has trained his Russian language (for 20 years was not in Russia). He told me that I could not get to Cambodia normally, because there is a continuous repair of roads. Like, it is better to get to Cambodia through Laos or Thailand. We sat with him until one o’clock in the morning. He gave me an escort in the morning, and we went to the rice fields (I wanted to see how they work) and the abandoned villages of the American bombing. The first impressed me more when we drove up to the rice fields, I already knew that I was ready to provide all possible assistance in growing rice. The villagers are stunned when I dropped the bike, took off his shoes and went into the field. The feeling is indescribable! And the Vietnamese were thrilled with what I did. They showed how to plant seedlings, cut, run the water, carry it to the tank. A whole science! In-General, rice is their bread.
When I walked barefoot on the field, knee-deep in the water, I thought it was heaven. Such bliss that I didn’t even notice how all smeared in mud. They all laugh, take pictures with me.
Washed up, a little dry, though, and decided to go to Cambodia. But after 100 kilometers, I realized the futility of his venture and decided to return to the capital of Laos. The night caught me when I reached the border 200 km away. the villagers have long pondered, what am I supposed to be spending the night. Well, there is a bike here and go with God himself… Try to explain that I’m tired and want to sleep. In General, sleep in some outhouse, but again, as in the jungle, there was no heat, no stuffiness (which I was so scared) because the houses are made of bamboo. To undress afraid. Fell asleep immediately. In the morning I was given tea, and I host – $ 10 for hospitality. Was not able to find one glove (seen at night, some four-legged creature dragged), and I had to leave the second.
Again these mountains, again these tiresome kilometers. Caught in a heavy tube, I thought that the accident in the mountains. But no, it’s the police that kidnaps everyone. I didn’t even check, waved a hand supposedly pass, and I to them as a greeting decided to honk. That’s just pressed the wrong button and I have joined a police siren. They were stunned, and I was scared, I thought, will force to remove a siren. But nothing, looked in a mirror – for me not go.
On the border are the same guys-from Laos, from Vietnam. Ask, that so quickly, that even week not was on a visit in Vietnam? They don’t know that I have a very large route, and therefore for a long time impossible to stay anywhere else.
- Category : 2006
- Запись 1 : Из Алматы не на байке, а на самолете