If you travel around Vietnam you will hear about motorbiking around the north, it’s the done thing to do. What you’ll likely hear about is the Ha Giang loop. It’s a well established 3 or 4 day loop with amazing scenery and zero stress. There are loads of guesthouses that arrange tours which include an ‘easyrider’, a local guy (I didn’t see any women doing it) who drives the motorbike while you sit on the back. As part of a group you’ll tour around the loop, staying at homestays with lots of other people doing the same thing. It’s social and fun. Rosaline and I did this together and had a lovely time. In contrast to this touristy loop, I also did the Cao Bang loop, a little way to the east of the Ha Giang loop. This was a completely different experience. I drove myself and did it all alone (this was whilst Rosaline was doing her exam in Hanoi). I met other tourists only at one homestay and for the rest of the time I didn’t meet anyone other than locals. I had no plan and drove and stopped where I fancied, checking out weird villages and tiny roads that cut along lakes. Here’s an overview of the two experiences.
The Cao Bang loop
Not touristy, drove alone.
My trip got off to a slow start when it took several attempts to find somewhere good to hire a bike from and to get some advice about where to explore. It was the beginning of the afternoon by the time I finally set off, taking just a small bag with me and with a banh mi and some pineapple stored in the seat compartment for lunch. Immediately I felt amazing. The joy of having complete freedom and no plan! The roads were smooth, the bike very fancy and the scenery beautiful. As lovely as it had been to travel with Rosaline, it was exciting to be alone again. I stopped for lunch at the ‘Mountain Eye’, pausing at the top of the hill in surprise at how cool it was. A huge mountain with a hole in it, very Jurassic park looking. I found a rock to perch on and ate my food, watching the buffalo graze and taking in the view. I tried to follow a trail but it quickly disappeared and I eventually had to cut down through a crop field and over a wall to get back to a clear area to walk along. I meandered my way along the roads, taking a turn down a paved track to get a better look at a lake surrounded by the tall hills and came across lots of kids on bikes. They all shouted hello and raced me along the track. I rejoined the main road and continued to a homestay, arriving with lots of time before sunset. The owner didn’t speak any english but refused to let me stay. From what I could understand I needed a special permit from the police to stay overnight in this specific homestay because it fell within an autonomous border region, and it was too late to get the permit that night. Unsure how big this autonomous region was I set back out on the bike feeling a little stressed about finding somewhere I could actually stay - the downside of no planning! Realising that I would make it somewhere before it got properly dark I relaxed into the drive, and actually enjoyed the faster more purposeful driving. The homestay I settled on was lovely, with a huge outdoor terrace directly alongside a river. My dorm room was actual a little private one, albeit a very simply one with the mattress on the floor, a mosquito net and fan. I enjoyed a nice enough meal with two Australian guys. We drank cold beers and relaxed all evening, sitting on the little bamboo raft that was attached to the river bank. The evening was brought to a close when a dog stole my sandal (we got it back don’t worry!).
After a picturesque breakfast, the other tourist at the homestay, an American Malaysian lady called Annie, asked if I wanted to join her for a hike. It sounded like the perfect way to spend the day so I agreed. We hiked for 4 hours, setting off along a gravel track into the hills. Every turn revealed more beautiful scenery. The clouds had drawn in and it drizzled with rain the entire time, a nice reminder of walks back in England. After 2.5 hours of walking we emerged from the hills and joined a small road which we followed back to the homestay, passing through several villages. Here we witnessed rural Vietnam. It was poor. The facilities were similar to Nepal, showers outside for example, but the pride in the home wasn’t there. Peering inside the houses were undecorated, unfurnished, and untidy. There were older farm houses made of wood, and newer ones made of the concrete blocks which looked half finished. There were dogs everywhere and we armed ourselves with sticks and rocks. The people were friendly once spoken to, but gave suspicious looks before this. We saw a wedding and heard lots of karaoke. Annie told me about her 8.5 years in an ashram in India and I enjoyed her advice and view of the world. Arriving back in the late afternoon I drove a little way to a stone village which seemed to be exclusively homestays. I picked one and drank coffee in a cave until dinner. Being the only guest this time, I ate dinner with the family, obliging to the shots of alcohol they gave me. They didn’t speak any english and didn’t seem interested in trying to communicate so it was a quiet meal for me, listening to the flurry of conversation between them and their neighbours.
I killed time so I got to the Ban Gioc waterfall at 11am, the best time to visit as it was when the Chinese stopped diverting the river to the hydroelectric plant. The waterfall was incredibly strange, with China on one side and Vietnam on the other, boats of tourists being launched from both banks. I popped myself on a bench and people watched for a while, finding the whole atmosphere bemusing with its loud music and staged horses for photos. I tried roasted chestnuts for the first time and loved them, stopping frequently on the long scenic drive to admire the view and eat a few more. I had read online about a ‘foraging’ village in the area so visited this. It took an embarrassingly long time for me to realise that it was in fact a forging village and I’d misread the article. Finally the swathes of knives for sale on the road made sense! What gave it away was the chorus of clanging metal and every single elevated house having a little forge underneath it. A whole village of forgers, how strange. It seemed diversifying industry really hadn’t caught on here when the village my homestay was in turned out to be an incense village. Every household here made incense sticks, visible in pots alongside the small tracks. I really enjoyed walking around these tiny villages, watching what was going on and being generally nosey. Two old woman sat making, unsurprisingly, incense sticks gestured for me to join them so I did. They showed me the facebook live video of someone singing that they watching, giggling away like little girls as they worked, sharing their snacks with me. It was so lovely to simply sit in their presence, even if we couldn’t communicate. I had a disappointing dinner with one of the dishes being literally a bowl of hot water with potatoes and carrots floating in it, not a flavour in sight. Again I was the only guest, but was sat on a separate table from the family which felt odd and unfriendly. The house was notably bare inside. My accommodation was very pleasant, in a wooden elevated structure with a nice balcony. Sadly, looks were deceiving and I had a traumatic night. The first warning sign was when I noticed the little chocolates I had placed on the table were gone, how confusing. As I settled into bed I was startled by a scuttling sound near my head, then above me along the top of the wall, then under the bed. It dawned on me what had happened to my chocolates - there was a rat! It freaked me out a lot, and I tried to scare it away by turning on the light and thumping the bed. It worked for a bit but then it returned. I gingerly placed my foot on the floor, leaving the safety of the bed, which sent the rat scurrying off, and hurried over to my backpack. I placed the pineapple I had brought for breakfast safely inside and moved the bag up onto the chair (because obviously rats can’t climb right…). I tried to sleep but the rat continued to terrorise me and freak me out. I felt so stressed out by it, cowering in the centre of the bed under the mosquito net which I hoped would also be rat proof, watching the room and the flashes of the rat. I slept with the light on and some music playing for a bit, hoping this would scare it away or at least block out its sounds. Neither worked. I did not get much sleep. Waking early the next morning I put the awful night behind me and enjoyed the gorgeous view out of the door and over the balcony, with the morning mist settling into the crevices of the hills. I went to pack my bag and realised I hadn’t survived the night as unscathed as I’d thought… The rat had chewed through the zip on my bag and had completely broken it, meaning it would no longer zip shut! Feeling exasperated and stressed I informed the owners who couldn’t have cared less and I left in a huff. Over the 45 minute drive back to Cao Bang I tried to not agonise over the rat and the bag issue with little success. I had a bad feeling that something else was going to go wrong that day so was very relieved to return the bike safely! I had a delicious breakfast with the super friendly lady who I rented the bike from and started to feel positive again. On the bus back to Hanoi I realised that it was my fault for the rat issue really, having taken the pineapple up to my room, and that I was very lucky to not know that it was a bad idea, having never had to worry about rats before. Turns out I wasn’t completely wrong with my bad feeling about the day, and my motorbike lift from the bus station to the centre of Hanoi was horrific and I totally thought I was going to die. The old man driving me seemed drunk and chaotic was an understatement for his crazy swerving, shouting and constant spitting and snot rocketing. When he dropped me off at the wrong hotel I didn’t even correct him, leaping off the bike and walking the rest of the way instead. Luckily, I needn’t have stressed about my bag being broken. I found a street full of repair shops and got the zipper replaced in 15 minutes and for a cost of £2. It’s not the best job in the world but it’ll last the rest of the trip.
So, not everything went smoothly on my solo adventure around Cao Bang, but I loved it. It was so much fun to have complete freedom. The scenery was stunning (a given in Northern Vietnam it seems). Having the opportunity to explore tiny villages, observe local life and interact with people was wonderful. It was the only time in Vietnam that I felt like I really experienced local life. After being surrounded by travellers for so long it was also refreshing to get away from the backpacking trail for a few days. The homestays were disappointing compared to the ones I’d had in Central Asia, with the families having no interest in socialising and being unfriendly even. Overall, an imperfectly wonderful few days!
The Ha Giang loop
Touristy, did as part of a group, was a passenger.
After hearing lots of stories from other travellers who had already done the loop, Rosaline and I decided to go with Mama’s house hostel and to both get easyriders (mine was called Ning). Whilst I was happy driving a scooter now, I hadn’t tried a semi-automatic which was needed for the loop and had learnt that I struggled to both admire the view and watch where I was driving! We opted for the four day option (as opposed to the three day one) which cost £150, with all of the accommodation and food included. For comparison, in Cao Bang I spent £50 for four days so it’s a lot cheaper to do it yourself, unsurprisingly. We had a very confusing and disorganised start but once we set off in our group of 13 it calmed down. The next four days were spent sat on the bag of a motorbike, listening to Rosaline and I’s spotify blended playlist under our helmets, enjoying the most magnificent views and often holding our arms out like we were on the Titanic. We drove in our group the whole time, stopping frequently to look out from viewpoints, walk to the Chinese border, swim at waterfalls and eat ice creams. After mid-morning on the second day our group did fall to 11 members after one of the people self-driving had a crash which saw her cut up her chin pretty badly and chip a tooth. Luckily it wasn’t more serious! She and her husband left for the hospital and sadly didn’t return. The rest of our group was made up of two guys from India and all of the others were dutch and of a similar age to us. This was great for Rosaline who could chat away in dutch with them all, but less great for me. It was actually the first time in my trip where I felt isolated because of language, with the people around me not switching to english to accommodate for me. On one hand, I’m glad I got to experience that isolation so I can be more sympathetic to others who aren’t super fluent in english, and it made me realise how fortunate I am that people have always accommodated me in the past. On the other hand, it was isolating and did start to get to me a bit after four days. Luckily, in the evenings we combined with several other groups to create a mega group at the homestays. Whilst most of these people were also dutch and stuck to speaking dutch, there were other nationalities too so I could speak english with them. The evenings were passed by socialising, eating basically the exact same meal and playing cards. Oh, and also drinking rounds and rounds of ‘Happy water’, a rice wine spirit that left a lot to be desired. It was a lot of fun but did give me school trip vibes sometimes. Whilst the social side wasn’t exactly the best experience for me, the scenery really was. Blessed with perfect clear weather everyday, we were treated to far and wide views of tree covered karsts, snaking roads, deep valleys and terraced hillsides. Unlike in Cao Bang, we were often above the scenery here, looking down on it from brilliant viewpoints. The colours were vibrant even against the bright sun. The driving was enjoyable and the roads were good, with the exception of day three where lots of it was on a dirt track under construction. We got covered in dust and it was hairy at times. But after this was my favourite bit of driving. It was golden hour and the sun was just beginning to set. We flew down a long, steady hill to descend into a valley. The views to the left were stretching and drenched in that soft glow. We overtook each other on the bikes and you could tell everyone felt the same - in awe at the surroundings and exhilarated by the drive. We arrived to our final homestay on this high and enjoyed the fact it had a pool, watching the rest of the sunset from here over a cold beer. Whilst driving through the villages we saw lots of sights, including a huge live pig being transported strapped to the back of a motorbike. It was really interesting to drive through these places and be able to look into the eyes of the people there as you drove past. We saw children playing, happily shouting hello to us, some even stretching their hands out to high five. We saw children with the saddest eyes I’ve ever seen, walking alone along roads in the searing heat or sat under umbrellas selling things. We saw women together, laughing. And we saw a woman sat crumbled on the ground looking utterly defeated. It really made clear the different sides to rural, village life in developing countries. We never stopped and interacted with people in these villages sadly, I felt a lot more like just an observer than in Cao Bang. So that was the infamous Ha Giang loop!