And so once again I continue my story being stuck in the middle of nowhere. You ar e probably thinking I have the worst luck in the world. Believe me I thought the same thing but then remembered how much fun being rescued was. Or maybe you are thinking why haven't I ditched my bike and turned to the normal tourist bus route? But where is the adventure in that.
After awhile I decide that my bike might start. Maybe the little guy just needed a nap because he was worn out. Just maybe. I try it and no luck. But just then as if being rewarded once again for not giving up we can hear the sound of another bike. No way there is actually another bike out here. We wave down the driver who is dressed pretty nice.
We point and motion that the bike is broken. I'm getting pretty good at those dramatics now. This poor guy tries everything. He takes pieces of my bike and electrocutes himself!!! We both jump and realize this guy has no idea what he is doing but he is so determined to helped. Next he tries a running start. No good.
Finally he suggests by pointing that Morgan uses her bike to push me. Although locals have done this to me I can't see it happening the other way around. For fifteen minutes we fumble around not truly understanding. Next he turns and walks into the jungle pulling me with him. What?!?!
He hands me a vine. Ahhhh I get it. We around going to pull the bike with vines. Working together we pick out some strong ones. It's so strong we can't break it. I grab two rocks and place the vine on top of one and bash with the other. Slowly but surely it breaks through and we have a sturdy piece.
Tying it to the bike we are ready to give it a try. Morgan gives it some gas but too much. She lunges forward and the vine snaps. Finding a stronger one we trait again and success. We only have to make it 25 kilometers until the supposed repair station. I use my ponytail holder to hold the clutch down so that I can relax. While Morgan cautious used navigates the windy mountain roads with the weight if two bikes I get to relax taking picture. I'll admit to taking a selfie.
We lose the man but figure we will run into him at whatever lays ahead at 25 kilometers. About ten kilometers away the vine snaps on a super steep section. This time there are no vines around but an old abounded building. I scope of the building while Morgan started detaching pieces of her backpack to make a rope. The building proves useless but Morgan was successful. She attaches her end to the back of her bike with her bike lock and I attach the end of the rope to my small chain and attach it with my backpack lock. Surprisingly it works.
Approaching our goal we are surprised that it is only one house up on a steep slope. Once again we are let down by thinking we would be reaching a real town. With a running start we make it part way up the hill and push the bike to the shady underneath of the house.
A group of men stare at us. We are u sure now if this is where we were meant to come. Where are we? Two of the guys start to work in the bike while we sit there uneasily. One takes me across to another group of three and points for me to clean myself. Oh yeah I am covered in tons of oil. No matter how much I scrub there is still oil on my hands. Then I hear my bike start.
Yesssssss!!! But before we are allowed to leave we are told we will eat. We sit down together with nine men and a table of interesting food. Whole fish, fish heads, chicken curry, rice, and other things. First they have us eat the whole fish including the head. Hesitantly I close my eyes and bite into the head. It's actually really good. Before I know it little glasses have been filled with water.
Thank goodness! I'm so thirsty I grab the glass and start to drink before I notice the cant they guys begin. Within one gulp I realize I am not drinking water. I can barely swallow it burns so bad. Ughhhhhhh! They all laugh. From that point on when they do their cheers I politely decline drinking another single thing. When dinner concludes and the guys are laughing happily from their "happy water" at they call it we are invited upstairs.
In the upstairs the actually house sits above the parking and eating area. We come to realize these guys are the phong Nha park rangers! We must be close now. After studying the map we are lead into a massive open room with an old wooden bed. Turns out its nap time. I had forgotten that the Vietnamese take their siestas very seriously. Without having to be told twice Morgan and I jump onto the bed and pass out for two hours of deep sleep. When we wake we are refreshed and ready to hit the road.
Once again we wave our goodbyes and take off. The next couple hours are gorgeous. I'm filled with mixed emotions playing over the days events. I'm so proud of myself for sticking with it and staying calm, I'm happy I could experience these things, and I'm thrilled that it is all working out. The views are still beautiful and that never changes the rest of the ride.
We reach a bridge intersection and see four white guys sitting on the bridge. White people!!! Tourists!!! Ahhhhhhh! For an hour we recount our tale from the past day and they laugh at some of our situations. We also learn their bikes have had their fair share of breakdowns as well which is relieving. It's not just my bike that stinks. The best part is town is less than fifteen minutes away.
The scenery at this point changes. Gigantic limestone formations jut out of the ground around us and we coast down the hills passing them. My breath is taken away and tears well up in my eyes. What have we done? Who does this? How had I just accomplished this? I'm not a scared little teenager anymore but a confident adult exploring the world. I'm getting to see one of the most beautiful sights in the world in the open air on my motorbike.
We can see phong Nha town and two things happen. First, Morgan speeds around a corner at the same time as a truck. They narrowly miss each other and scares Morgan to death. Second, my chain snaps on my bike. In her horror she keeps driving and I'm left to flag down yet another kind soul. This one pushes me with his leg until we catch up with Morgan on the side of the road. She tows me to town. The first mechanic we see is where I leave my bike to get fixed.
Walking with our packs on our back into the main part of village we discover everywhere is full. There is only one hostel and its full. The hotels are full. Then a family says we can stay there. Super nice of them but after all we have been through we needed a room and somehow sharing a bed with a family just couldn't happen this time. We find a place further down that is retry large but clearly not for foreigners. But we manage to get a room and that is good enough for me.
Exhausted and it already being
6pm we lay on the beds. I check my email to see a nasty email from the company that organized our cave tour. It was a lecture on how I should better plan my trip because I inconvenienced a lot of people. On and on it went and I felt terrible. Part of me was mad because let's take a look at what we just went through.... So sorry to upset you. It's not like we did it on purpose.
Instead of being angry I sent a nice email explaining the situation. I did feel really bad that they had planned for us but we never were able to confirm anyways. When the lady sent two emails the day before with no response it should've been a sign. Either way I sent an apology. Within minutes I had an email back saying they completely understood and sorry for the lecture but they get a lot of backpackers who just don't care.
Morgan and I head over to easy tiger hostel to book a new caving tour and get some dinner. We are sad to find out our hang en tour is only every couple days and its not possible for us to do it the next day. Settling on the Tu Laun two day tour we are a bit disappointed but still excited.
The guys from earlier appear at the hostel and we sit down for dinner. I have been eating strictly traditional food from each country but feel like I need some western food. The waitress brings me fries and an Australian meat pie that taste like heaven. Thins are great.
Then the lady from the tour desk walks over apologizing. She messed up the booking for us tour and its now too late to get us on the tour. We beg for her to get us on any but with luck. Everything has to be booked before seven the night before. Now I'm really heartbroken. Although its been an adventure these past hours I can feel myself getting grumpy instead of taking it all in stride.
Not even five minutes later I get a message that crushed me. I no longer will be in my Kindergarten classroom at Mendon. All summer I have been bragging to my travel friends about the perfectly themed jungle room I was going to have. I told them all about the purchases I made towards my room, the cave with waterfall for a coat closet, the palm trees made from pool noodles and paper bags, and my desk made into a jeep. Why?! Everything was already measured, planned, and ready! I never even knew this was an option.
Without a word and a sick stomach in my feeling I walk alone to the corner of the common room and burst into tears. For the second time in one day I uncontrollable sob. That's only the second time in almost two months that I have cried out of sadness and they were both today.
After a long time I go back inside. Everyone asks what is wrong and I briefly tell them. They are all concerned but no one really wants to be with a grumpy pants. I apologize again and again as I don't really listen to their conversations. Morgan had already left to go back to the room and I sit and talk to a teacher from Holland for awhile. We chat comparing educational systems which was very interesting. Finally admitting that no matter how interesting anything is I'm not mentally there I dismiss myself saying goodnight.
As I make the walk down the night street I think back to these thirty hours. I don't even get a little bit in before I remember how the dogs change at night. I hear the growling from each of the buildings I pass. With my breath held and posture straight I try to not show fear as I make my way back. I get a few barks but stand my ground. Almost there!
I can see my hotel and the surrounding fence is closed. I look for a bell to ring. Nothing. The only way in is to scale a high metal fence with pointy spears on top. Carefully I begin to climb. When I make it to the top a dog appears at my feet on the street side snarling. I swing one leg over. The dog begins to jump and snap his teeth. Please let me not fall. I do not want to get stabbed nor do I want to getting ripped to shreds. I lift my second leg up and carefully swing that one over. Whew! Last I have to hold on to the bar and slowly lower myself down.
I run straight to my room and jump in bed. As I lay in bed I try to think how I process the last thirty hours mentally. They are wonderful, sad, exhausting, lucky, and disappointing. The timing of everything had to be so perfect for the next one to work out. I should be overjoyed that I could experience such a thing. But I stead I am overwhelmed and once more I cry myself to sleep.