Much harder day. Hilly. Rainy. Muddy. Foggy. Could be the UK. Except for the banana trees. And loads of other stuff.

Foggy day. Great views. There, but not seen. Spots are not serious. Does rather sum up the day.

The Horse river.

Millions of bamboo chop sticks.

Welcome Break. Top of a big hill. Almost warm.

Rice fields, with no rice as it’s winter.

Muddy Zan. Great guide. Jolly fast up hills.

Paul with interested kids. We seem to attract this sort of attention. Must be our humour and good looks.

Banana pancakes and omelettes for breakfast, doesn’t get much better.  50% chance of rain forecast. We lose the bet and it’s wet for our 8:00 am kick off.  Gentle off-roading through the beautiful village and paddy fields before our first big climb.  Thai minority villagers are so friendly, and expert at weaving colourful clothes. No space on the bikes, sadly. Passed through villages processing bamboo into chopsticks. It’s a big industry. Could probably be automated, but it employs large numbers of people, although using big saws to chop up the bamboo isn’t without risk to fingers. Health and safety isn’t so strong here.

14 Km to the top of the mountain, sheer drops to the side but couldn’t see them as so foggy.  Very little traffic or sounds as we pedalled upwards.   Lunch before our downhill cruise, perched on stools in a roadside shop where we were provided  with a thermos of hot water to make our coffee. Grand.  Added a couple more layers before heading down through the fog.  Feel we’re missing out on some amazing scenery but the cool temps make the cycling so much easier than in the summer heat and humidity.

Huge stretches of newly tarmac’d road make for some great cycling in between the construction lorries.  Final transfer on the bus, close to the border to a big new hotel.  Bit worried about the wedding party next door but were reassured they would be finished by 9pm.  Hadn’t anticipated the karaoke across the road, right outside our hotel window (think of the worst of  X factor contestants, amplified. A lot).

It’s now 9.30 and the Karaoke is getting noisier, and even less tuneful, if possible.

Hey ho. Might go and join them. Probably not.

Tam Cuc to Cuc Phuong national park. Harder day, but lovely park. Some birds. Yea.

There be dragons.

Exit of a 10C Pagoda. Used to be the capital of Vietnam.

Baby rice, in their kindergarden. Planting out is starting now.

Planting out.

One fat, two thin.

Langur, resting, as finally safe behind the fence.

Turtle, also safe from soup.

Big tree, the sign said so.

Breakfast at Yen Nhi hotel, definitely not The Marriott.  Paul’s very accurate description of the coffee – ground up burnt varnished door steeped in warm water (tea, marginally better).   Topped off with cold fried egg, sweet bread and sour pineapple.

On the bikes at 8:00 am for short cycle to the 10C pagoda, capital of Vietnam for 40 years until moved to Hanoi cos the King saw a vision of a dragon rearing out of the Red River.  Strong drugs, but a big decision. Hanoi celebrated it’s millenium as the capital in 2014.  It’s spent it’s history defending itself mainly from the Chinese.  The Vietnamese like the French and Americans, now, but seem to deeply mistrust China. Odd that.

A 50 km ride to Cuc Phuong national park, a grey day and slightly drizzly, temp average 15c.  Brochure promises sight of “maybe one of the 95 mammals who inhabit the park”.  Sadly, the only ones we saw were in the primate centre for the langurs, gibbons and loris.  Some of them are saved from smugglers, re-homed and occasionally released into a national park where they may be protected from the insatiable desire of the Chinese for weird medicines or questionable dishes.

Staying in a guest house in the park. A bit functional, but a warm shower. Bliss.

Now for a beer. Again.

Our route. Some by van!

Catholicism sitting comfortably with Buddhism.

Beautiful Karst limestone scenery, and many cement factories.

Cruise through caves.

Our captain. Feet are stronger than arms.

Karst’s, a bit grey. That’s the day, really.

14c Buddhist shrine. Vietnam’s take on Buddhism.

Had been keen to get to Hanoi but keener to leave.  Not sorry to escape the aggressive horns and hectic pace.  This is winter and the temperature and humidity is pleasant.  Hard to imagine what it feels like in the middle of summer.  A short transfer in our bus to reach the outskirts of the city before riding our bikes along the Red River delta.  Very flat, bordered either side with fields of vegetables and fruits.  The road is very quiet but dusty with no tourist traffic, only the occasional truck or moped.  After 50 km, another transfer along the main highway to reach Tam Coc.  Followed narrow country lanes leading to the river and the entrance to the limestone caves on our boat ride.  Still sad to see so little wildlife, only spotted a few kingfishers in the park and one or two egrets.

Zan, our guide is great. Good English and looks like a cyclist should – ie not at all like Paul. He may well be dragging us up the hills in coming days. We are sure he can. Hung, the driver is also great. Stopped at motorway service for lunch. Loads of rice and tasty pork. Beer warm but welcome. Ice offered, er, no, ta.

Tomorrow is a bigger day. So to prepare: beer!

Hanoi coffee shop – Post it!

Great views.

Walk over the Red river. 2km bridge.

Old and new. Downtown.

Hanoi.

‘Yummy’ lunch, dishwater and noodles. £2. Not much of a bargain, actually.

Proper fresh satsumas. 15p each. Free delivery.

What a lot.

We way prefer our noodles.

Last chance for fresh coffee before we leave the city.  Thank you Ha for our guided tour across the huge Red River and the view of the “naked island” (some chaps like to pop over, take their clothes off and play football, apparently).

We have now met Zan, our guide to the Laos border.  News!  The other members in our group consist of….no-one else!  Group meal in Au Lac House. Yummy.

Then back to bed, for an early start. Both keen to get back on our bikes.

Hanoi, during a lull in the traffic.

Working ladies, in a good way.

Exercise and beauty – flowers and cycling.

The bicycle evolves, backwards.

Dragon breath

Crabs, still alive, just.

Dried fish and prawns. The smell…

Soft shell turtles. Alive and, well…

Toad bile juice. Yep, its true. Used in traditional medicine.

Lunch, on its way.

Lunch. Are we sure this is safe?

Best meal in Hanoi. Thanks Simon and Ha.

Great evening.

Leaving Ngoc- Nhem homestay was a mixed blessing. The excitement of our first city in Vietnam, but it’s bonkers Hanoi. We were both looking forward to a few days of a little bit of luxury, like lights and a choice of food.

We arrived late afternoon and Hanoi was in full swing. Just walking on the streets in the old quarter is a challenge, crossing the road needs serious planning. Once you are in tune with the city, it gets much easier: Just walk, the mopeds, generally, will avoid you, probably.

A day of wandering around a wet market, shops and life generally, all lived at 100mph.

Food was street meal, £2.50 and a beer for 50p. And it was good!

Lovely to meet Linda’s godson Simon and his wife Ha, who are both Hanoi residents now. A few local beers costing £1 and a G+T costs £1.50, in a smart bar. Great! Sadly the ice wasn’t so good as Linda spent the next 36 hrs very close to the (thank goodness) en suite.

Next, to wander around a bit more!

Another Health Warning, for 6th photo down. We are getting used to the local ways.

Home for 2 nights. Luxury.

Our beds.

Harbour where we pick up our cruise ship

Our cruise ship

New Muong home – everyone helps, unusually chaps lending a hand too.

Considered auspicious to have doggie dinner while building new home.

For Rob Carter and Nick Adams. Great surface and only route to our homestay. Yea!

Floating supermarket, inside a large boat.

Cheeky boys, following us everywhere.

Primary school

Nhem’s fish lunch

Nhem’s granny

Hot pot with the family (and a few glasses of “happy water”)

Taking veggies to market.

So lucky with the weather.  Woke to a sunny day which warmed up to 30c.  Sadly the wet towels don’t dry in our “stilt” bedroom in the overnight cool air.  Linda woken by some winged thing flapping around the room at 5:00 am, Paul barely slept, so in tune to differentiating between the local cockerels, not helped also by a couple of cockroaches dropping onto his head.

Banana pancake breakfast then a hosted boat trip on the enormous reservoir.  Only spotted one bird perched on the fishing nets.   There are rumours that some fishing is done with dynamite, or electrocution. Both are illegal, but we are a long way from anywhere.

Karst limestone backdrop is stunning. Some small villages only have access by boat. Remote.

First stop to a  house being built, then to Tay village, some of which was floating on the lake. All hugely welcoming. Apparently they only see 10 or 12 westerners in a year. We felt a bit like the pied piper at times with the children following our every step.

Only 30km but really hard work. Still took us 7 hours.

Amazing views of high mountain paddy fields. Great roads, very quiet.

Homestay welcoming, open one year and again, no English, at all.

Bloody punctures -thank goodness for the doctor and his repair kit.

Muong lady, red lips and black mouth (considered very sexy) from chewing betel nut

Peaceful villages – only see women working. Men sit, smoke and talk.

Great views for picnic lunch – sticky rice and boiled eggs.

Traditional stilt house

Gosh, a good day on the bikes. Only 35km but ‘up and down’ doesn’t do it justice. From our homestay, 2 1/2 km, 270m up, so average over 10%. Not easy with a fully loaded bike and cold legs. Then 12% down, followed rapidly by 12% up, and repeat. It’s a hill, just get over it! Worth it for the views, which were in general superb. Good temp for cycling, maybe up to 28c, we can not imagine doing it in 37c and 95% humidity, i.e. ‘summer’.

Cycled through the Ba Vi national park, to Da Bia, Da Bac commune, which is home to some of the Muong Minority. Very friendly, subsistence farming. Again, not a word of English.

The homestay is comfortable, ish. Every house has chickens, ducks, pigs and a veggie patch. The chickens are bloody noisy, competing from 11.55pm until dawn to see who has the best “cock-a-doodle doo” Each one is different, and all wake us up. Especially Paul, who is now officially grumpy. Hope chicken is on the menu soon.

Food is interesting, but the veggie stuff is generally more to our liking than the “meat”. Memories of andouillette, which may account for the taste and smell.

Missing a comfy sofa and beds that are not made of concrete.

Our route. 70 Kms. Lovely.

Our first day proper cycling.

6 year old lad home for lunch. All wear similar uniform.

Us arriving for coffee produced this reaction: so friendly.

Drying corn. Hope it doesn’t get run over by lorries, or cyclists.

Memorial to the fallen VC soldiers in the American war. Still not sure who won.

Stunning morning view. Da Ba lake.

Doesnt give the true steepness. Jolly steep.

Thong takes us to the best places for lunch.

Not lunch, yet.

Lovely Muong lady, 56, widow with a son. You learn so much about a person so quickly. Very happy to chat (via Thong!)

5 star luxury. They forgot the bed.

Our homestay. Traditional stilt house.

Harder day on the bikes, 71km and some proper hills meant a 7.30am start. Our guide Thong (pronounced “Tom”!) is very knowledgeable, great English and has a superb sense of humour.
Stopping for coffee (not great, even though Vietnam is a major producer of coffee) we are surrounded by the coffee shop owner and all her extended family. Tradition requires that shoes be removed on entering a house. Linda was an honoured guest and this rule was relaxed. Not sure if she just looked very hot, and they were worried about the state of her feet. Again, not a word of English.

We are getting a bit anxious about the time to come without a translator. Neither homestead we have stayed in so far looked in any way like a place that had rooms or any form of hospitality. No signs, no receptions etc, and certainly no wi-fi.

We will pick Thong’s brains for useful vocab and advice.

Some talk about the Vietnam war, although for obvious reasons they call it the American war. We passed a memorial for the war, and also the guarded mausoleum for Ho Chi Min. His  body was held in state for some years.

Today’s tradition is still for the eldest son to bury his parents (ideally waiting for their death first) and then allow the body to decompose. 3-5 years later the body is interred, bones cleaned and then re-homed into a smaller casket. Many parents live with their eldest son and his wife. Often 3 generations in one house. Children be warned. We think it may be a good idea.