Ch-ch-ch-ch-changes
- krolesh
- Aug 31, 2023
- 18 min read
Yeah ….. life’s moving on.
And I’ve been thinking.
I’ve realised how difficult it would be for me to move around the world like I’m currently doing without being fully carried by other people.
By the unswerving kindness of complete strangers.
And by the regular love and support of my friends and family.
The number of times I’ve been blessed by acts of blatant generosity by random people on this trip are far too numerous to count. It happens to me every day, sometimes more sometimes less.
Sometimes the acts are small, like gorgeous smiles, greetings, and the waves of kids and adults as I pass them while I walk around, or the many loud friendly calls of “hello!” from all sorts of people on the side of the road, every single day.
Sometimes the generosity is more grand, and it blows me away. Sometimes I’m offered food, drinks, gifts, accommodation, and any manner of things. People constantly want to extend their hospitality, and to make me feel good. Friends and family send me good wishes, support my writing, give me gifts, do all manner of things to make me feel good. It's so incredibly soul and heart warming.
And then there’s the times when I really need help, and people are there. They’ll go out of their way to help me. Or find someone else who can. Special things I need to get hold of. Bike breakdowns. Heat. Thirst. There always seems to be someone there, offering to help, or to make my life better or more comfortable in some way.
You know, spending long periods of time away from home teaches me important things.
Or, should I say, re-teaches me.
It makes me appreciate the amazing friends I have in many places, and my beautiful family.
Well, families.
I’m also constantly reminded of what an incredibly beautiful and complex organism humanity is.
But despite the magnificent diversity of culture and landscape that we’re all a part of, it’s amazing how universally similar we people are in some ways.
It makes us feel good when other people feel good.
We love it when they love our place, our part of the world, our little village, our city, our country, our hospitality.
The nations, the places, the landscapes, the people, they all change.
But the generosity remains.
What an infinitely precious blessing it is to be on the receiving end of such naked, unabashed goodness.
Lang Minh Mang
Today I rode about 10 clicks out of the city of Huê, to the most beautiful and huge mausoleum complex, an incredible set of temples, pavilions, lakes and gardens. It was built in the 1840s, to store the sacred body and artefacts of the second emperor of the Nguyen dynasty, Emperor Minh Mang.
The scale of the place makes me realise how grand the Viet kingdom must have been, and the incredible wealth and resources that the imperial family and the nobility must’ve had at their disposal.
If the dead Emperor is still floating around in the afterlife, he certainly has heaps to do around his mausoleum. And armies of animal and human deities to serve and protect him.
Within the complex there’s stone guards and guardhouses, pavilions for him to rest in, gardens for him to float through, designated places for him to read books, hang out with his concubines, get fresh air, contemplate nature, frolic with his celestial deer, or go fishing.
The guys who designed and built this place really had their feng shui down pat. It really is a masterpiece of Vietnamese imperial architecture, and an absolute pleasure to explore.
There was hardly anyone there, it was overcast and so a little cooler than it’s been, and it was a perfect afternoon for a slow dreamy exploration.
It was a beautiful cycle out to there. It doesn’t take too long to get out of the city, and pretty soon I was amongst the rice fields again.
And hit the dirt.
A beautiful ride along the meandering upstream reaches of the Perfume River.
The complex is surrounded by an outer wall, and you pass through numerous gates as you make your way towards the inner sanctum.
One of the outer compounds, with its requisite guardians.
This single piece of carved marble is much bigger than it looks, and is inscribed in classical Chinese script (Vãn Ngòn), stating all the incredible attributes of the deceased Emperor.
There must have been a lot of them.
Compare that to the smallest book in the world, The Complete List Of Endearing Qualities of Donald John Trump.
Yeah, I know.
I keep picking on him.
Do you blame me?
Speaking of Vietnamese script, prior to the use of Latin in the written language, all imperial writing used classical Chinese script, but the vernacular was written in Nôm, a combination of standard Chinese characters (Hán) and local Vietnamese script.
I know how much you wanted to know that.
French missionaries were largely responsible for the Latinisation of Vietnamese writing. No wonder the pronunciation rules are so bloody random.
The fact that Laos and Cambodia, also French colonies, didn’t widely adapt Latin script in their own written languages, was largely due to the fact that the Vietnamese Nguyen dynasty heavily promoted the use of Latin script, through various imperial decrees in the early 1900s, particularly in the educational sphere, but Laotian and Cambodian leaders didn't.
As I progressed through the mausoleum complex, I passed through numerous gated and walled compounds, pavilions, and other buildings, on the way to the main temple, and to the tomb itself.
A pic of the exquisitely laid-out complex from 1932
Died at 50. Reigned for 20 years.
Hangin out in the 20s.
1920s that is. They look so bored. Probably not enough screen time.
The exquisite Sung An Temple, dedicated to the Emperor.
Walking through portal after portal took time. Lucky there was a portal loo.
Elaborate ceramic brick work
So many beautiful trees
Towards the final resting place
This 285m long round wall protects Huyen Cung, which is actually an incredible underground palace, where Emperor Minh Mang’s body was finally laid to rest. The coffin was brought to the palace via a tunnel, and after the ritual rituals, everyone left (except the dead Emperor), and the tunnel was sealed off permanently.
No one has been in there since.
Incredibly, they wouldn’t even let me in there, even though I told the guardians all about my globally recognised imperial Polish heritage.
When they refused I threatened to have them beheaded, then cut up into little edible meat cubes, and fed to hungry vultures.
It didn’t work.
Then I threatened the two ignorant fools with personally ripping out and juggling their eyeballs without dropping any of them. Not even once, despite how slippery and gooey they’d probably be. (I knew they wouldn’t be able to see if I dropped one anyway).
But still their spears barred my entry.
I had no option but to huff and puff for awhile, and eventually just get back on my chariot and ride off, not sparing the donkeys.
The Tiger Arena
Yeah, I know it sounds like a football stadium.
But it isn’t.
From the 1700s at least, fights-to-the-death would be waged in imperial Vietnam during royal festivals, between, wait for it, elephants and tigers.
These battles were staged in fields, and weren’t put on just for the spectacle, but also as a way of training elephants for future battles.
This was a pretty dangerous business, not just for the animals, but for their handlers as well. Courtiers were sometimes attacked by the animals, on one occasion a courtier fell into the fighting area and was killed.
Another time a tiger somehow broke away, dived into a river and tried to attack the Emperor, who was looking on from a boat. The Emperor managed to fight the tiger off with an oar. What a guy!
As a result of all these incidents that very same Emperor decided to build a fighting arena specifically for these events, to make the whole thing considerably less stressful.
For humans that is.
Exterior wall
And guess which animals always won the battles?
I was surprised to discover it was the elephants.
Well, surprised until I found out that they actually removed the claws and the main fangs from the tigers before the fight.
I bags not doing that job.
An illustration from the net of one of the Vietnamese battles, the “Circus Games”. Annam was what the French named Vietnam
The animals were led through these gates onto the pitch.
Notice the concrete animal water trough on the bottom left. So nice of them to treat their animals so well.
The gate to the upper viewing area for spectators was locked when I was there, but an old local guy motioned for me to just climb over it, which I did. Great to see a bit of a rebellious glint in his eye.
Most Vietnamese tend to be quite rule-abiding, I’ve noticed. Compared to some other Southeast Asian countries that is. I mean, there’s way less rules here, but those they have tend to be obeyed.
I took this pic from the Emperor’s viewing spot. It hasn’t been used for awhile. The last fights took place here in 1904.
Dong Ba Markets
The main markets in Huê are quite large, and bustling at certain times of the day. It’s another mad maze of tight corridors and walkways, wet slippery floors in the wet market part (surprise surprise), and loads of interesting things for sale.
The woman on the right is weaving palm leaves
Shrimp, pickled in a chilli or two. Gaggishly smelly around these stalls.
One of many gold jewellers
New hat
Bananas in pyjamas
Melon camp, with super large avos.
Local coloured rice varieties, and various beans
Home Is Where The Art Is
Huê is overflowing with creativity.
Along the riverside, a number of beautiful galleries display masterpieces by well known Vietnamese artists, the riverside parks are adorned with many amazing sculptures, and there’s a beautiful sense of aesthetic around the centre of the city.
The French fostered a tradition of art education for talented artists, and some have achieved success both here and in Europe.
Berets off to the French for that.
The Lê Bá Dâng Gallery is a collection of works by the famous Vietnamese artist of the same name. Born in 1921, Lê Bá Dâng moved to Paris when he was just 17, to study art in Toulouse. The year after he arrived the Nazis invaded France, and he joined the French Resistance.
He spent most of his life in Europe, but was always strongly connected to his homeland, saying
“The river flows into the sea, but always remains faithful to its source.”
I know exactly what he means.
His work is known in Europe and America, as well as in Vietnam, where he has also supported many emerging artists.
His work in the gallery is stunning, and varied.
Definitely too much screen time
Lê Bá Dâng was part of a group of intellectuals in France who tried to educate the French public about what their army was doing in Vietnam, and they called for the government to withdraw their forces from the country. Of course they were ignored.
Outside his gallery
Beautiful calligraphy exhibition of famous imperial poems, in another gallery. Wish I could read them.
Diêm Phùng Thi is another famous Vietnamese artist, a sculptor, who also moved to France after studying medicine in Hanoi. She ended up marrying a Frenchman and became a very successful artist in Europe.
Her gallery.
The masteress at work
Stunning
Amazing works by young local artists in the gallery
Diêm Phùng Thi died in 2020. There’s a shrine to her inside the gallery.
Amazing shots from a photographic exhibition in the park.
Monumental park art
Sound and light show near the river
The Cost Of War
Huê is only about 50km south of the Demilitarised Zone (DMZ), the zone that was set up to separate North and South Vietnam after the defeat of the French in 1954.
But as the American War, which actually commenced in 1955, built in intensity from the early 1960s, the city, unfortunately, was right in the firing line.
In January 1968 the North Vietnamese launched what became known as the Têt Offensive, a series of major surprise attacks on many military and civilian command and control centres in South Vietnam.
A major component of that offensive was in Huê. Many US marines were on leave for Têt, which is the Vietnamese New Year holiday, and North Vietnamese forces attacked and quickly overran the city.
Many North Vietnamese soldiers expected the civilians in Huê to support the takeover, but this didn’t happen. Power and water was cut off in the city. The population assumed the South Vietnamese and US armies would counterattack, which is exactly what they did.
When they took over, the North Vietnamese immediately rounded up many people, including South Vietnamese soldiers, civil servants, political party members, local religious leaders, schoolteachers, American civilians and other expatriates.
In what came to be known as the Huê Massacre, many of these people were executed. As the South Vietnamese and US counterattack began to achieve success, the executions became more rapid, with an estimated total of 4,000 people murdered in four weeks, nearly ten percent of the entire population of the city at the time.
Eventually the South Vietnamese and US forces retook the city, in brutal urban warfare, street by street. It was one of the longest and bloodiest battles of the whole war.
The city was left in ruins, an estimated 80% of it was completely destroyed. The Americans bombed much of the historic imperial old city area too, because many North Vietnamese troops were holed up in there.
So sad.
So futile.
These bloody politicians sending in their boys with guns.
After the war, the new communist government neglected to repair or maintain imperial sites anywhere in the country, deeming them symbols of a political system they completely rejected.
But everything’s changed now, and for the past couple of decades the government's been spending a lot of money renovating historic sites, and some are now back to their former glory.
But the history, the scars, and the trauma in the city remain.
Beautiful pagoda
And more stunning imperial architecture
Full moon. I’ve cycled through another cycle. This one’s a super moon in fact, when the moon’s orbit is closest to the earth at the same time as it’s full.
A regular fave café spot of mine. The best place to hang in the afternoon.
Coconut and jackfruit stop.
Quiet cycle paths, for a quiet cyclepath.
Some beautiful colonial buildings
Huê Cathedral, built in the 60s
My local florist was always making something amazing
Party celebrations in my laneway. I missed the party, somehow.
DMZ, the biggest party house in the city. Yeah it’s definitely Babylon, it even has the hanging gardens.
Another nightclub cave
And another veg feast. The grey pastey stuff in the little bowl was, I thought, maybe some type of beany dippy thing, but when I tasted it I almost gagged.
It’s fermented tofu, a local delicacy called chao.
Yeah that’s right. It’s basically tofu that’s gone off. Really off.
And it smells and tastes like fermented armpit jam.
According to a local website, “if you are first-time taster, chao is hard to be accepted.”
Well that’s a bloody understatement.
However, knowing how good it is for me (it’s super rich nutritionally), and, being the hero that I am, I ate it all up every time it was served, and have now, surprise surprise, acquired a little bit of a taste for it.
Or, I guess I should be more honest and say that I’m sorta getting used to it.
I’m in training actually. One day I may need to stomach fermented mare’s milk in Kyrgyzstan, which, I’ve heard, can be pretty hard to keep down.
So you’d better watch out next time to you see me.
My breath will probably smell like fermented death.
And I might suddenly dive on you and hungrily start licking your smelly armpits.
Pedestrian malls are called Walking Streets in Southeast Asia, although I’ve never actually seen any of them walking.
This guy was good. I would’ve donated some silver, but there’s no coins in this country, and anyway he looks like he’s got enough. I gave him a note instead.
It’s actually true. I really do love this city.
And now it’s time to leave it.
Which isn’t a surprise at all.
I always seem to eventually leave whatever it is that I love.
Helter Swelter
Shit, it’s really hot.
I tried to find the drop-down menu option, Feels Like …. For A Cyclist On A Radiating Bitumen Road Going Uphill With No Cloud Cover … but I couldn’t find it. I think I need to update my app. I’m sure it would’ve been about 47 in that category at that moment, no exaggeration.
And those hot winds are blowing hard. Right at me.
My sweat’s dripping like a leaky tarp, and I need to stop a lot to cool down and replenish my body fluids.
Luckily these cool hammocked side-of-the-road drink spots are the best place to do it. They’re an absolute Buddhasend.
Apparently photos like this are called art
Looking up. Real leaky tarps.
Yeah, the strong winds of change are blowing. I’m on my last leg of this part of my Vietnam trip, heading towards Laos.
Amazingly, this isn’t the first time I’ve cycled on this stretch of road. I did it in the 90s as well.
My German friend Wolf and I cycled through northern and central Laos back then, and when we got close to the Viet border he turned around and went back to Thailand, and I carried on alone.
This is the only pic I have of that trip.
We hardly ever took photos on long trips in those days, because you needed to get the film developed, it cost a lot, and then you’d be left lugging around more and more paper photographs, or fragile rolls of film, which would slowly disintegrate on the road anyway.
Yep, there's a guitar up there on my bike too.
You may be wondering why I’m wearing jeans. I’m asking myself the same question. Maybe the pic was taken higher in the hills, and it was colder. Yeah, I don’t really know, but that’s my excuse, and I’m stickin to it.
And the hat? No comment.
Lots of beautiful small river crossings today
I spent the night in Quang Tri, a beautiful town which also has a bit of its own imperial history.
This bombed out school has been left as a testament to what war does to the places you love.
Model on right: “What the fuck am I doing in this ridiculous costume?!”
Model on left, sighing: Yeah look Bián, I know you’re right, but what other options do we have? Everyone wears this shit to get married, even in this country. Just look on the bright side. At least we don’t have to pay for it.”
Vietnamese Spam (cured meat). Lali’s fave.
No it’s not. She vomits just at the thought of it.
Buddhist paraphernalia
Wedding hall, for expensively dressed happy couples and their broke parents
Riverside fairy lights
Grand pier building near the Quang Tri citadel, from where the Emperor would board his swanky imperial boats
Dodgem cars, Vietnamese style
More imperial architecture
Dancing With The Stars set
Peaclock
The text means "kind regards to our customers."
Why thank you kindly.
Cam Lô
It wasn’t a long ride today, maybe only 30 clicks. I took it a little easy.
Well, easier. That strong wind was still blowing right at me all day.
I also hardly took any pics.
Funeral procession heading out of Quang Tri
Cam Lô’s main drag. It’s a 6 cow town.
Translation: Learn Good Things Here. Follow the Ideas, Thoughts, Meditations and Ethics of the Ho Chi Minh Style
Khe Sanh
Yeah, Cold Chisel’s biggest hit, (and every Australian battler’s unofficial national anthem), was named after this town.
As someone said in a comment I found on the net about the song:
“you know you’re a true Aussie if you don’t know the second verse of our national anthem, but can belt out every word of Khe Sanh.”
Yeah, as a pub singer in the 80s and 90s, I can totally vouch for that. I sadly witnessed many a quiet punter releasing their inner Barnesy and screaming out the melody with teary (drunken) passion.
The lyrics are pretty tragic actually, the song’s about the huge struggles Australian Vietnam vets had fitting back into society after the trauma and brutality of the war.
Many Australians absolutely did not support the government’s decision to send troops to Vietnam. The images and footage of the horror of the war, regularly broadcast on television, outraged large portions of the population.
So, when the government finally bowed to pressure and the troops were pulled out and returned home, they really copped it from some quarters. This was a double-tragedy, as most of them were conscripted anyway, and were forced to go against their will, and then they had to participate in the most brutal of conflicts, for reasons most didn’t even understand.
The psychological toll on those guys was horrific.
Khe Sanh itself was the site of a major South Vietnamese/US base, where a huge battle took place in 1968. The North Vietnamese surrounded and laid siege to the base, but couldn’t quite take control of it. But the siege held, and eventually the US/South Vietnamese were forced to withdraw, and the North Vietnamese took over. Around 20,000 people were killed during that one battle. Unbelievable but true.
These days Khe Sanh is a large town right on the top of a range of hills that, I might add, is a bloody tough climb on a bicycle.
Which actually shocked me, because about a month ago I came up the very same road by van, on my way to Laos, so I could leave Vietnam and re-enter it for visa purposes.
Before heading up in the van, I made a mental note to check out the hills as we travelled, just to get an idea of the height change etc. for my return on my bike.
Well, the thing is, Leah was in the van, and we pretty much chatted the whole way, and I was so completely distracted that I didn’t notice at all how much we were climbing.
So I came away thinking there wasn’t much climbing to do at all. Funny that.
But it was a beautiful bike ride, and yeah, the last hour was leg busting, not only because of the hills, but also because I had a massive head wind. Which is all fine really, I just had to go slow, and take it easy. But I was DOA I can tell ya.
The unrelenting wind
And a relatively quiet road, considering it’s the only road to a border crossing in this whole region.
Heading for those hills
Beautiful rivers
The sign basically says the road’s been upgraded by your amazing government, always serving the people, blah blah.
Well actually, having said that, most Vietnamese that I’ve spoken with are quite supportive of the government, believing them to be quite open (compared to some governments in the region), and to have the general well-being of the people at heart.
The economic system here is generally described as a socialist-oriented market economy, and, in practise, large state-owned enterprises are the main drivers of the economy.
It’s a similar model to China’s economic system, but, unlike here, cultural openness in China has definitely changed direction in the past couple of decades, and the government is becoming more and more controlling of people’s economic, moral, and political choices.
Beautiful old bridge, way nicer than the upgrade
Haven’t seen many of these around
But, unfortunately, too many of these
As I got higher and higher, it started to cloud over a little, and to cool down just a couple of degrees. What a blessing.
The pass is just to the left of the towers on the left, just out of the pic
Not a lot of economics happening in the Special Economic Zone
Sun drenched war memorial in Khe Sanh
Cute church
Locals playing xiangxi, a strategy game, a bit like chess apparently
So I found a hotel in town, washed and cooled down, and, although super tired, went off down the street, looking for food.
I immediately met Thuat, who stopped his motorbike and asked me (in good English) if he could help me with anything. Such a lovely guy.
We chatted, and within a minute or two I was on the back of his motorbike, and we zipped off to his place. He told me he was an English teacher, and that his students would love to meet a foreigner to speak with.
And so began another amazing experience of incredible warmth and hospitality.
Thuat’s amazing wife Ná, (nah, that’s her name), cooked me up a veg dinner while I went off to speak English and sing ballads to his various classes throughout the evening and the next morning.
The kids loved it (as did I). It’s rural Vietnam. They don’t get to meet foreigners ever. They were so interested and excitable, they wanted to know everything about me.
One asked me my age. I told her to guess. She said 80. Another kid said 70. Fuck! Come on kids, show a bit of respect, and at least lie if you need to.
After each class the kids came up excitedly and shook my hand, and we had many photos taken (the usual celeb stuff, ho hum).
I taught the kids the chorus to a few songs, one they particularly loved was “Let It Be,” the chorus of which they belted out at the tops of their lungs. It was priceless, enjoying those kids enjoying themselves so much. Ná recorded it all, I’ll have to get the vid off her.
After one of the evening classes one girl came up to me and said, very quietly and sincerely, in English, “it’s so good to meet you, I really like old people.”
The thing is, she wasn't being a cheeky little upstart, she really meant it. There’s such a respect for older people here, from really young kids, to teens, and then all the way up the tax brackets. The older you get, the more respected you are.
I like that idea, we really should try that in the West.
After the evening classes Thuat and I got to know each other up on his balcony. He’s an absolute music lover, and is really inspired by Western music, especially all the 60s, 70s and 80s classics. We drank beer. We jammed. We chatted. He’s a lovely, generous guy. And we really connected because we both play guitar and love music. We've been in touch a lot since then.
I would have stayed with him for a few days, but my visa was expiring, and I had to get out of the country.
Grins with the groms
When in Khe Sanh. Thumbs up is the thing to do ‘round ‘ere. Except for scissors girl. These guys were the best English speakers of the lot, the senior students, and we had a great time. I sang a few English tunes again, and the girl with the guitar also sang a Vietnamese ballad. She was good.
And That’s That
Vietnam’s been such an amazing journey.
I rode in from Cambodia, explored Ho Chi Minh City, and then went down to the amazing food basket of the Mekong Delta.
Then darling Lali came, and we did a loop, from HCMC to the coastal city of Nha Trang, up into the hills of Dalat, then back down to the coast.
She left 😢, and I’ve slowly ridden north, right up the coast, and am now close to the western border with Laos.
My Viet journey. Just so you know, I actually went along the coast pretty much the whole way up, not exactly on all the roads marked.
And this is the bigger picture, my journey through Thailand, Cambodia and Vietnam over the past few months. (Malaysia and Indo wouldn’t fit on the same map, due to layering limits).
I’ve done a lot of pedal revs so far, I don’t have a bike computer fitted to know exactly how far I’ve cycled since I started this trip, but I do know it’s def over 5000km.
And that’s just the actual cycling.
For comparison purposes, it’s the same as me riding from Perth all the way to Melbourne, turning left, and then riding all the way up to Brisvegas.
Or, if that means nothing to you, it's like riding from Paris to Istanbul, and then onwards all the way to Tehran, (which, btw, is another 2000km down the track).
Or from New York to San Francisco, and then down to LA.
It's actually quite a long way, when I think about it.
But I have to be honest and say again that cycling around isn’t that hard, generally.
By this stage of the game I have fit chicken legs and a properly evolved armadillo butt.
And anyway I don’t cover ground as quickly as some cycle tourists, I love breaking it up with rest times, and with meeting up with friends or family.
So anyway, enough of that, now yet another country beckons, one of the least "developed" in Southeast Asia. Yay!
Laos is across the border, and I’m itching to get there (and not in anticipation of the fact that I already know from experience that some of the dodgier guesthouses there have bedbugs).❤️
Comments