Sweet Potato Moment - Sun 22 Jan

At the end of our 40Km(!) first day, we are rewarded with a boat journey along the Mekong river, drinking fresh coconut juice and watching the stunning sun set. As we reach the home of the family we’re staying with, I’m prepared to commit serious crime for a hot shower (and a cold beer). Even though there is no hot water, not even a shower for that matter (really more of a tap and a bucket), the sensation of pouring water over aching limbs feels blissful. I may have cheated a little though. See, Ben, my Aussie biking buddy wasn't feeling very well and really didn’t want to brave the cold water. So when he asked for some water to be boiled for him, I may have been slightly over-solicitous: “Yeah Ben, you should totally get hot water. Don’t want you getting sicker!!!”. So what if I took a little of it (it was very little. Really!)?

By the second day, we pick up the pace and I’m doing exceptionally well, much thanks to the encouragement of my travel companions. As we cycle through the lush green fields of sweet potatoes stretching for kilometers to the eye, everything just falls into place. Any worry (no matter how trivial) I was feeling just melts away. I am having a perfect moment of happiness. A perfect sweet potato moment!

On our way to the (basic) hotel the second evening, I think of the beautiful Pina Colada that I am NOT having tonight. This does not prevent me from unleashing Becky (my occasional alter ego) on my travel companions. Becky typically makes incredibly shallow and out of context remarks in a high pitched voice such as: “OMG, I’m like so hitting the Jacuzzi tonight” and “will you look at my nails? I sooo need a mani!”. It’s entertaining to watch their faces as they decide whether or not to take me seriously. Thankfully humor flows in abundance and the decision is easily made with Aussie Chris chiming in: “I’m so booking a massage by the pool”.

By the third and last day, I am cycling right behind Hao, our guide. I’m all: “Come on people! We have a schedule to keep!”

After three intensive but amazing days, I have become a seasoned almost amateur biker in this “Tour de Fruit”. Hear me roar (or at the very least ring my bell)!

Tour de Fruit - Sat 21 Jan

My biking buddies are very cool and relaxed. There are six of us: American Erin, German Stefanie, Argentinean Flo, Aussies Ben and Chris and me. While they sympathize with my plight, a spark of humor ignites as they reconcile the idea of “Dutch Me” not being able to operate a bike very well! By now, undoubtedly, my friends back home, reading this, are cracking up and mercilessly making fun of me: “Really Paula? A biking tour? Who are you Paula? What were you thinking” Very soon this familiarity will extend to this bunch but for now, they are very considerate of the group’s weakest link (yours truly). We agree to slow down the pace and after a brutal morning’s adjustment, things pick up (my outlook, not the pace). In fact, things just keep getting better. By mid day, Flo politely suggests: “Ermmhh…Paula, perhaps, maybe, if you shift your gear to a higher one, you wouldn’t need to pedal as much?”OMG Flo! That’s the best tip ever! By the end of the day, Erin recommends to stand while cycling on uneven ground and relax my arms instead of tensing them up after each bump. This relieves the saddle discomfort and tension in my back. THANK-YOU Erin (my ass thanks you too), that’s the second best tip ever!

The landscapes are beautiful. The narrow paths that skirt the river are shaded by so many different trees and there is this fragrance very similar to jasmine (but it’s not) in the air. The villagers are friendly and the kids yell “Hello” each time we cycle by. Most of the houses are in very good shape, some are beautiful. Life is good for these people who so easily live off their land. Hao, our guide, takes us through different “Kingdoms”, as he calls them, of fruit. The tree branches are heavy with fruit, ripe for the plucking. We are treated to so many different kinds! From Durian (stinky but good) to Jackfruit to Pomelo to Mangosteen to Rambutan and many more. There is one particular fruit that cracks us up and inevitably elicits many jokes among us. It’s called Star Apple which in Vietnamese translates into “milk from the breast” (Vu Sua). You’re supposed to massage the fruit (beautifully round) until it becomes tender so that the juice mixes with the meat of the fruit to become a sweet substance that looks like breast milk. You drill a small hole at the top of the fruit, lift it to your mouth and drink the flow as a baby sucks milk from its mother's breast. It sounds so wrong but it tastes soooo good!

Mountain Biking 101 - Fri 20 Jan

“What the hell am I doing here?” This thought screams in my mind as I frantically pedal to catch up with the rest. My helmet keeps sliding over my forehead, which is covered in a sheen of sweat. The sun block I meticulously applied earlier this morning found its way into my right eye which is now burning and tearing up badly. I have no idea how to work the gears on my mountain bike and am pedaling (as I later find out) way too fast on a gravel and uneven dirt path which constitutes our trail. There is a steady stream of curses that threaten to burst out of my head and shortly thereafter vocally carry out their threat. Since I am eating everyone else’s dust though, no one gets to enjoy my rather eloquent litany of profanities. So here am I, cycling through the Mekong Delta, with just one good eye, the other shut tight, dirty and sweaty in the blazing heat, cursing out loud, pedaling at a ridiculous rate without seemingly getting anywhere fast! My only consolation is the letter of complaint I am, as we speak, drafting in my head amid expletives. “Dear Mr f&*%ing LeVietnam Sh*&ty Tour Group. What the F&#K?? This is not what I signed up for.” Sure, when I spoke to “Tung” over the phone just the day before and enthusiastically cried out “Sign me up!”, I had a different picture in mind. I envisioned myself cycling on one of those pretty lady bikes (you know, the kind with the cute basket in the front), at a leisurely pace through newly paved, even roads shaded by coconut trees and fragrant, colorful flowers bordering the paths (ok, ok, perhaps I exaggerate a tad but you get the point). Reality slaps me hard in the face. Anyway, I finally make out the back of someone’s helmet in the distance and relief sweeps through me. As I race towards it, I learn a very valuable lesson (one of many) in mountain biking: when speeding down a steep and sharp sandy slope, it is not wise to suddenly use both brakes. The imminent fall propels me out of my (uncomfortable) saddle. I manage to veer off to the side and land into a patch of grass. Now I am pissed! When our tour guide finally stops for our first break of the day, I am fuming (and not just from the heat). Controlling my rage, I try to find a diplomatic approach to the matter.

Me: “How am I expected to enjoy the scenery at this speed?”.

Guide: “Yes”

Me: “How?”

Guide: “Yes?”

Oh, right, my guide’s name is Hao.