Near Death Experiences and New Friends

Before we begin - the first part of this adventure can be found here if you haven't had a chance to read it!

Now, on we go.

NEAR DEATH EXPERIENCES AND NEW FRIENDS

The whole thing happened in less than 15 seconds, however it felt like it happened in slow motion and lasted much longer. Lord knows the fear and panic that I felt course through lasted much longer. As we approached one of the various dangerous bends, with the road leading up to it being covered in gravel, instead of us to slow down, we attempted to power through. Lisa’s back wheel just said “no” and skidded out from under her.

As the bike skidded and skittered near to the edge of the cliff, I could feel abject terror grip my throat as I let out the most inhuman scream I had ever heard. The way I screamed her name still haunts me to the day. She neared that cliff, as the bike moved right towards the cliff, guided by the back wheel of her bike, her body moved left, where her helmeted head bounced 3 hard times off the ground. As she lay there unmoving, I jumped off my bike, uncaring of where it landed, running towards her thinking the absolute worst. I don’t know if I was trying to stop movement or what. The first thing I saw was blood. I didn’t know where it was coming from and I was shaking too much to check properly. Her open eyes reassured me just the tiniest bit, but not as much as when she got up and started shaking each and every single one of her limbs to see if there was a fracture of break anywhere (in hindsight probably not the best thing if she actually had broken something). A few deep breaths and stunningly shocked silence and then… she burst into tears. Horrible wailing tears that spoke of someone being so shocked and scared that they were unsure of what to do. Her fingers were bleeding profusely as were her left shoulder – the skin was practically gone, brown skin replaced by the white and pink dermis seeking deep red blood. Her inner left elbow had lesser road burn and her left hip was massively bruised as well.

We sat at that corner, me comforting her as she cried her heart out and I tried to patch up what I could with my meager supplies from the Boots first aid kit I always carried with my while travelling. All I could think of was what could have happened. A few extra inches and she would have went careering off that cliff and what would I have done? Who would I have even contacted? What would I say to my mother, who had trusted me to take care of my younger sister so far away from home? How would I have gone on living if my sister, who is the closest person to me on this earth, had so suddenly and tragically departed from it? All because I wanted to see mountains. I had been shaken to my core.

Eventually, after about 40 or so minutes we eyed our bikes, resigned to the fact that we needed to continue on. We couldn’t continue sitting at the side of the mountain. We still had the issue of Lisa’s declining petrol tank to sort out. Worse still, where I had discarded my bike, I could see liquid seeping to the ground where the petrol tank was. Of course. We set our bikes upright and set out, slowly, on our way. We crawled around mountain edges, and shied away from driving on the outer lanes, too shaken by what had happened to even try. Eventually, we came across a small town on our way to Dong Van that had petrol facilities. I say facilities because this person was selling petrol out of the front of their house. Their excitement and enthusiasm at seeing the two of us, two random black women, was enough to lift our fairly deflated spirits.

Tanks full, a mood a little higher, we continued on our way to Dong Van at a slow and steady pace, being hyper vigilant, but still taking in the beauty around us.

In no time we arrived in Dong Van. This time we opted to stay in the accommodation that QT had recommended for us. We were in low to mid spirits, tired and needed to find medical supplies fast as the covering for her wounds were already all soaked through with blood. After collecting medical supplies from a local pharmacy we checked into a private room at the Green Karst Hostel & Bar. After bandaging Lisa up properly, I wandered back downstairs to sort out our bikes. The hostel we were staying at were affiliated with QT and because of that affiliation, they would fix any issues on our bikes for free. Due to the way Lisa crashed her bike, the left foot peg of her bike had bent out of shape and was virtually unusable. I directed the hostel worker towards our bikes and off he went taking it around to their garage to fix the bike up.

Hours later saw us standing outside of the hostel ravenous and trying to decide where to go. Dong Van was the largest town we had seen since leaving Ha Giang two days prior, and therefore there was a large amount of food options available. As we began walking, commotion to our right caught our attention. A group of about 4 or 5 men calling out to us. I was confused and wary. They were sitting out on the patio on a restaurant drinking beers and obviously enjoying their evening.

“You don’t remember me?? I’m heart-broken.”

What? I had never met any of these men in my life. I was about to start moving on when Lisa started laughing and responded. At one of our rest stops on our first day, while I had gone in to get a drink, Lisa had met them. At the time I had stopped inside the store to recuperate from the heat and finish my drink and I had waved at her at one point. Lisa had waved back, but the Canadian guy and his friends had been there also and didn’t see me, thus thought she had been waving at them. They had struck up small talk at the Geo-Park while I had been focusing on lowering my body temperature. After some discussion, we decided to join them for dinner and drinks for the evening. What followed was an evening of getting to know these lads that had been thrown together on a tour, good food and all of us shot gunning cans of Saigon.

BACK ON THE OPEN ROAD

Our good luck with weather came to an end on our third day. But considering all that I had seen and all that had happened, I wasn’t too upset about it. Besides, the rain wasn’t exactly heavy, and it lent its own unique beauty to the Vietnam highlands. Day 3 saw us filling up our tanks and heading out towards our next location, a tiny town call Du Gia. 30 minutes of riding and the sights started to look the same. No, literally. I recognized where we were. Pulling out google maps showed that we had taken a wrong turn and were in fact retracing our steps out of Dong Van back towards Yen Minh, rather than heading towards Du Gia. Great. We re-retraced our steps back to Dong Van, took the correct turn and were once again, on our way.

The rain came and went as the day went on. Like the days previously, we stopped often to take in our surroundings. Our third day saw us ascend higher amongst the peaks than any of the previous days. The QL4C road took us through a dramatic and striking landscape of high peaks and troughs that had been formed over millions of years from tectonic activity and eroded limestone. At times were we so high that we were literally driving through clouds and condensation.

Looking from our perch we could spy other areas in the highlands that were raining and others where it was purely dry. It was a surreal feeling. We stopped at Ma Pi Leng Pass to rest and enjoy the views that the deep gorge offered us of the area. It, apparently is one of the deepest gorges in Southeast Asia. We continued on the QL4C driving through the sleepy town of Meo Vac and onward to Du Gia. In comparison to the day we’d had prior, day three was a cake walk. We drove through plantations and passed many local people who were transporting crops to places unknown. We came across a few travellers the we had seen at different points throughout our journey, acknowledging each other with a smile or wave. Being foreigners in a homogeneous area forged a tenuous connection between us and we all acknowledged it in one way or the other.

All too soon we were pulling into the tiny town of Du Gia to rest our heads for the night. Like with Dong Van, we just headed towards the recommendation made by QT, which in this case was owned by him QT Du Gia Guest House. We had an instant issue when we arrived. We had didn’t have enough money for two beds. We had spent so much (Vietnam wise) on medical supplies, petrol and our previous lodgings, that by the time we got to Du Gia, we had barely enough VND between us for one bed. Keep in mind that one bed was only the equivalent of €2.50. I don’t know where our heads were at. There were no cash machines in Du Gia, or in fact anywhere nearby. The whole town traded in supplies and the little VND they had. We needed approximately 450,000 VND (about €17) for our beds, dinner and breakfast and we only had 50,000 (€2) between us. After letting the staff know of our predicament, one of them went off to make a call, while the two of us tried to figure out what our next steps would be. It was getting dark outside and it definitely wouldn’t be safe trying to drive through those mountain passes. 2 minutes later and the member of staff handed me the phone. QT was on the other end. He said we could stay and not to worry about the money – we could give it to him when we got back to Ha Giang. He literally saved us from sleeping in the streets that night.

The guesthouse was definitely one of the more unique lodgings I had stayed in during my trip. The sleeping quarters consisted of one large wooden structure, and upon climbing into it, there were about 18 to 20 thin mattresses laid out with mosquito nets wrapped around them, to protect you from bites while sleeping. We spied two beside each other and got settled in. It wasn’t unpleasant. It was just… different.

Coming down for the family dinner, I saw some familiar faces from the road and previous guesthouses we had stayed in during our time in Ha Giang. We each shared stories of the injuries gained on the road, things that had been seen and things that had been experienced over beer and delicious spring rolls. Soon, we all retired to bed, ready for the next day ahead. For Lisa and I, it would be our final stretch back to Ha Giang. We knew that the conditions of the last stretch were less than ideal, and in some parts dangerous according to QT but even though we’d had some ups and downs we were still looking forward to it. Like fools.

THE SUPPOSED EASY ROAD

Our journey was coming to an end. We had spent 3 days riding through the Northern highlands and we were about to spend our fourth and final day riding through, making our way back to the town of Ha Giang. We began our journey early and the weather was good. Not too hot, and no rain in sight. We finally came across an ATM and withdrew some money to sustain us until the end of our trip.

After a few hours of riding, we noticed that the roads were becoming less than ideal, but that was ok. We were anticipating that. All too suddenly, there was an absence of actual roads. Instead, there were long jagged rocky passes that were masquerading as roads. Navigating through them was hard work and had us paying extremely close attention to how our bikes moved. I made a vested effort to avoid particularly jagged rocks to avoid getting a flat tire. The last thing I needed on this trip was a flat tire. Especially given where we were.

I got a flat tire.

Of course I did. It’s me. We sat there staring at it. Willing the tire to re-inflate itself. Now was really not the time. There was no way I was going back over those rocks to the previous town as it would take too long, and I had no real knowledge of what would be ahead of us. After careful deliberation we decided to push onwards, hoping that something would appear in the short term to help with my predicament. Back on the bike I went, and I slowly navigated onwards with my flat tire.

Eventually we came upon a small town, and the nice family filled my tired up for free. Success. We were back on it, ready to continue on our way back to Ha Giang. All to soon however, Lisa told me to stop… my tire had gone flat again. At this stage I knew there was no point in turning back because the nearest mechanic was at least an hour drive backwards. My only hope was to continue going on towards Ha Giang and hopefully along the way, there’d be a mechanic handy to fix my tire. As I wrote that, I just reflected on all of the things I did wrong in this situation. I should have called QT straight away to get his advice on what to do as I had paid for insurance on the bikes and things like this were covered in the policy. Instead we continued on, driving slowly, through rocky roads, streams and mountain passes. Eventually we had to stop. The bike wasn’t going any further, the wheel was done for.

At this point I was about 3 hours away from Ha Giang and was out of ideas (though, it wasn’t like I had any good ones in the first place). 5, 10 and then 15 minutes passed while we sat at that mountain side trying to deliberate on our next option. Noise to our left alerted us that somebody was coming towards us on a bike. I ignored the person, however, Lisa flagged him down. He stopped and looked at us, clearly mystified at what he was seeing, while Lisa motioned towards my bike, trying to get him to look. He looked at the bike, looked again at us curiously, then pulled out his phone and began a conversation with an unknown person. After hanging up, he spoke to us in Vietnamese, nodded and then hopped on his bike and left. We had no idea what had just happened, and I didn’t really want to stick around to find out.

I called QT immediately (as I really should have done in the first place) to explain our predicament and he tried to find a solution for us. While he did that, an unknown Vietnamese man drove up to us, seemingly knowing that we were exactly there and motioned for us to get off our bikes… it was an interesting development. And also, vaguely terrifying. I called QT back and told him what was happening, and he asked me to pass my phone to the unknown man. A few minutes later and the phone was passed back to me – QT confirmed that he was a mechanic and that it looked like the man that Lisa had flagged down had called him and told him what was happening.

Within 30 minutes, more Vietnamese men appeared with different components to fix my bike and we sat there watching them work. All too soon they were finished. They had replaced the entire wheel and took only €9 for doing so. Off they went, leaving Lisa and I behind with their handiwork. After a few minutes we moved off and continued onward back towards Ha Giang.

WELCOME BACK TO HA GIANG

The rest of the route should have been easy. However, several times, we misread the map, ending up driving through areas we shouldn’t, missing turns and in general, we ended up turning back multiple times to retrace our steps to find out where we were going wrong. A drive that should have been two hours, stretched into four. My patience was stretched thin, and more than once, I felt hopeless. It seemed like we were lost more often than we were on track, and I was doubting our ability to make it back to civilization before dark.

Eventually, we found ourselves back on track and we hurried to make it back to Ha Giang before dark. We raced through the beautiful mountainous valleys and peaks of the north and weaved in and out of traffic that piled up as we got closer and closer to the North’s capital. Soon we were ourselves back in Ha Giang, saying goodbye to our bikes. The simple and easy trip around the North turned out to be not so simple. In a horrible twist, one of us nearly died, we spent more time lost, than knowing where we were going, my flat tire debacle could have gone an entirely different way and Lisa very nearly lost all form of identification. If not for the continuous kindness of the locals in the Northern regions, who knows what would have happened to us...

Until next time..

Barbara