Lost & Found

I think I just cycled through a wedding. Sabine, the owner here at Dragon Boat Rock Homestay on the outskirts of Ninh Binh, has a bunch of old bone-shakers that she lends to the guests so they can get themselves around. Now, it’s been a while since I rode a bike, but early this morning I accompanied Sabine and another guest, Susi, on a short cycle ride to the local market. And I loved it. Especially as there was zero traffic, I was in a brand new landscape, and the sun had just risen over the village. So, after breakfast and a 30 minute top-up snooze, I decided to go and do a little more exploring on my own. Truth be told, I wanted to practice my cycling skills without anyone looking. And with Googlemaps in my pocket and a full water bottle in my basket, I was good to go.

It’s so pretty here. The roads are completely flat, although sometimes strewn with drying rice resulting in maybe only a foot or so of road between the rice and a drop into a paddy-field. And in the distance the limestone karsts of the Trang An landscape form a stunning and multi-layered backdrop. Just behind the homestay is a lone karst in the shape of a dragon boat, and on my ride I found the well-worn steps that led to its summit. I was a hot, sweaty mess by the time I’d climbed up and back down again so was relieved to find my bike still where I’d left it. But I don’t think bike stealing is a thing in Ninh Binh.

By now I was feeling emboldened and I decided to get lost. It’s pretty difficult to do around here but having no sense of direction I knew I was in with a good shout. I suppose, geographically, I did get lost but was much more focussed on having found myself in an endless stream of movie moments. Just like I had done in India. I peddled between paddy-fields and along the river, past smiling, waving women in rice hats and pyjama suits. Of course I smiled back but cycling-novice that I am, I haven’t quite mastered waving on a bike yet. Which also makes indicating fairly difficult, but like I said, no traffic. And then there were the old men on scooters wearing khaki pith helmets and sporting Ho Chi Minh beards. Most of them nodded acknowledgement although their smiles were more measured. I was in heaven.

As I cycled on, through another small village, or more likely the same one from a different angle, I found myself approaching what I thought might be a dead-end. There was a group of women standing on the corner and, as I got closer, they looked up and smiled and waved me on through. I saw a circle of chairs and a huddle of men gossiping and feasting on sunflower seeds. It was time to dismount. These were serious obstacles. And then, before I really knew it, I was under a marquee with guests lined up at rows of tables. No one seemed at all upset by my entrance but I was certainly a source of amusement. A man in a suit, who I’ve now decided must have been the groom, came towards me and put his hands over mine on the handlebars and bowed deeply. I’m not kidding, he genuinely seemed pleased to see me. Everyone laughed. I kept walking, pushing my bike, smiling, bowing, and apologising. As I made it out the other side, I turned and waved and, with a wobble, rode off. Then I laughed. And laughed and laughed.

That was Tuesday morning and now it’s Thursday morning. In between I’ve done some sitting. But I’ve also been rowed through the Cuc Phuong wetlands in a tiny bamboo boat and am now one of the lucky few who has seen langurs bouncing through the trees high up on the monolithic karsts of the Van Long Nature Reserve. I have moseyed around Tam Coc, visited the Bich Dong Pagoda and stood in awe of what has become known as King Kong country. And I have arranged my travel south.

Today I’m going to Hoi An. I was still undecided when I woke up yesterday and was happily considering another night here at the Dragon Boat Rock. It has been beautifully peaceful, the company has been lovely, Queyen’s food is delicious, and, best of all, I managed to find sleep again. So I figured I’d just have to wait for a sign. And then it came in the shape of a nudge from Halong Bay Patricia. Who you don’t know about yet because Halong Bay hasn’t been written. But soon she could be Hoi An Patricia, so perhaps it’s just as well.