Saturday, February 1, 2025

Viet Nam, Cambodia and Thailand cycle tour - lessons learned

Between 27 December and 17 January, Sarah and I completed a 2285km cycle tour between Hanoi, Vietnam, and Bangkok, Thailand.  This is the second of three posts about that trip, the first being a captioned photo-series of some of the quirkier things we saw.  

This point-to-point ride involved two border crossings and we covered ground twice using local transport.  Rather than litter what I hope to be a good travel yarn with logistical elements, I thought I'd pull out some of the "lessons learned" from our trip, flagging both things I'd do differently next time, and those I'd do exactly the same.  As well as a useful reminder for me, I hope this might help others planning a point-to-point, multi-country cycle tour.  



Flights

When I first started looking at flights, we were committed to spending Christmas Day in NZ, and so there wasn't much thinking necessary to book the outbound flight.  On the other hand, absent the pressure to return to work, there was a fair bit of uncertainty around the duration of the trip, and without thinking too carefully about any negative implications, I booked flights to Hanoi only.  I've had another look at their online International multi-stop itinerary builder, and I can see why I avoided it - pricing options aren't nearly as transparent as the standard return-trip engine, and I don't see any way to mix service classes (e.g. a nicer seat for an overnight leg).  When I eventually got around to booking the return from Bangkok, I had to book using Air New Zealand's Singapore website (priced in Singapore dollars).  Next time, at the very least I'll price up the entire trip using both approaches.  


Border crossings

Travelling on an NZ passport, we needed visas for both Viet Nam and Cambodia.  

I'd organised our Vietnamese visas in advance, using what I thought was a government website.  A few days before leaving I'd gone to print them out, to discover that the attached files were actually links to documents on a web-server somewhere, and that the links no longer worked.  As I tried to resolve that, I discovered that I'd overlooked that the .govt.vn website only seemed to be a government website, and that the correct suffix was .gov.vn.  The question remained whether I'd merely been tricked by a genuine broker, or completely scammed.   I rang the phone number associated with the website, and got a recorded response in Vietnamese, which, by virtue of it being Sunday might have been "we'll be back in the office tomorrow", or, it might have been a "this number does not exist" message from the phone company.  I couldn't tell.  To my relief, someone at the end of their email address did respond quickly, with our visa documents attached.  I printed them out, and hoped that if not legitimate, they looked suitably genuine that someone at the border would take pity on us, and promptly guide us through the correct process (if we managed to get as far as the border).  As it was, we had an overnight layover in Taipei, so it wasn't until successful check-in for our final hop that we were able to completely relax.  

I'd read that not all border posts between Viet Nam and Cambodia accept e-visas, so had not applied for them.  When we arrived at the crossing between Moc Bai and Bavet, we left Viet Nam without issue, and at the Cambodian side were directed towards a small office.  There, we filled out a short form, paid the advertised fee of 35USD each in cash, and took a seat in the shade to wait. Within ten minutes or so, our passports were returned with a visa sticker inside, and we were ushered into an adjacent building.  There, our forms were taken from us, and we were asked to fill in an identical form each - the only difference appeared to be that this time we could write in the visa reference number from our passport. My sister-in-law, travelling on a Mongolian passport from Thailand a year earlier, had been required to pay an "additional fee" at this point.  While we were being served, a fellow butted in, and we could clearly see cash inside his passport.  He was ignored while our processing was completed, and we left glad to have been treated properly.  

Judging by the flags, Sarah's about to ride over the actual boundary between Viet Nam and Cambodia

Entering Thailand was a piece of cake, relatively speaking, and the only challenge was ensuring our bicycles didn't get stuck in no-man's land.  Once our passports were stamped, we had to backtrack through what was usually a one-way system.  I got the sense we were being closely monitored by folk hidden away, as the only way back down to our bikes was an up-escalator, and this was already off by the time we reached it.  It wasn't always clear what we were meant to do, but moving slowly and paying close attention to whoever might be trying to steer us (aka prevent us from going where we appeared to be going), worked perfectly well!


Currency

While we used ATMs in each country to get local currency, we did take a swag of USD for use in Cambodia.  This was essential at the border, and came in handy elsewhere from time to time.  Before we managed to get some Riels (KHR), a small store wouldn't take USD, but often times, shops accepted either.  We noticed some supermarkets would price in both USD and KHR, though change was always given in the local currency.  ATMs would generally give the option to withdraw KHR and USD, and I had failed attempts at each.  We only successfully withdrew KHR, on one occasion at the third machine I tried.  

Cash goes in a coin-baggie, which I generally have to repair after a week or so.  On this trip I took a couple!  


Comms and local apps

We've used e-SIMs on most of our trips in the last couple of years, previously bought from etravelsim.com.  This time we bought one from airalo.com, which as advertised, worked in all three countries.  

I've increasingly enjoyed being disconnected, plus I do need to haul reading glasses these days, so incessant checking of my phone is a thing of the past.  Consequently, we bought only one e-SIM, installed on Sarah's phone.  When we stopped for more than a few minutes, I'd typically request internet privileges, and she would turn on her hot-spot for me.  All the accommodation we stayed at provided WiFi, and many coffee bars and the like en route would have free WiFi as well.

We used an Uber-altenative called Grab a couple of times to get between our hotel and a city centre, and this was fantastic.  The girls use Uber a bit at home as a cheaper alternative to taxis, but I reckon this mechanism really comes into its own when there's a language barrier.  Some of our drivers did speak English, but sorting the pick-up and drop-off points and payment online, plus the transparency of it all, really made it a stress-free transaction.  

In Bangkok, our friend Roland recommended Bolt, which was half the price of Grab to get to the airport.  


Mapping and accommodation

My go-to for Garmin GPS base-map data is BBBike.org/.  On this occasion, I wasn't quite careful enough, and the road information on my unit stopped abruptly an hour or so from our final destination.  I'd hand-drawn the edges of the map, and hadn't included enough of Bangkok to cover our approach.  Luckily I had the route mapped, and even though it was literally the only thing I could see on my map screen, it was easy to follow.  (Google Maps would have been the necessary backup.)  

I devised daily routes using Strava's Route Builder in my phone app, typically in the evening for the following day.  This involved juggling Google Maps (for driving and/or walking distances), booking.com to see what accommodation options might be available (using the Map view), and a bit of hand-drawing on Strava to see what a ride length might be.  Last minute availability tended to be both plentiful and heavily discounted.  

In only a couple of instances we set off without a confirmed booking.  After a week or so on the road, I developed a hunch that Nhà nghỉ was Vietnamese for guest house, and sure enough, this was confirmed once I had my glasses on and internet access.  Judging by the signage, these were both plentiful, and obvious, though we never did attempt to secure a night in one.  Nor did I try to reconcile what we were seeing on the ground with what Google Maps shows, but on the couple of occasions we had to find somewhere to stay, things were exactly where they said they'd be.  

Not only "Recently viewed", but recently used

While accommodation availability determined where we'd be overnight, in the flatter parts of Viet Nam particularly, we had a lot of choice as to the specific roads we'd take.  Strava's heatmap data, which shows in the route builder, has great potential, but I'm not sure I always chose well, and began to crave an ability to filter on tyre choice, and/or ride type (e.g. among cycle tourists averaging 100-120km a day on fat tyres, what was most popular route?)!  We did spend a fair bit of time on highways, and while on the fly I'd dive off these to take parallel (and quieter) routes, often we favoured the simplicity and high quality surface progress of the main roads.  While busy with traffic, we felt well cared for by the other road users, and in particular trucks and busses would always give us a warning toot before passing by (generally with acceptable space).  

On our final day into Bangkok, I drew the first 200m of the ride myself, and the last 200m, and let Strava fill in the 130km gap.  It mostly did a very good job, though we did make a few tweaks to avoid an increasingly major highway, and it was a bit of light relief from my usual responsibilities.  

We noticed regional differences in what was available in the base-map.  The "paths" along the rice paddy walls all seemed to be in the map data, which was astonishing to me, given how minor some were.  On the other hand, many dirt roads we passed in Thailand didn't show up on my map. 

I'll persist with Strava, and in future pay a little more attention to how I'm choosing the moderately used roads.


Health

I'd been to Ho Chi Minh City once (maybe 15 years ago) for work, and had a truly miserable experience on the flight home, firing violently at both ends for much of the long flight (a crab meal seemed the likely suspect).  Sarah had a similarly unpleasant experience on the way home from a 2019 visit to India.  We set off with some nervousness about having to hunker down mid-tour to let a bout of a tummy bug work its way through our system.

To mitigate the risk of this, we were quite disciplined about only drinking bottled water while on the move, though some hotels provided water in re-usable (typically glass) bottles for environmental reasons, and we did tend to use that.  On the other hand, the local coffee was so good, we invariably bought from street vendors, rather than canned convenience store coffee.  

We often ate both breakfast and dinner in our hotel, but we ate on the street plenty of times as well.  The traditional banh my would generally contain at the very least coriander and cucumber, which had the potential to have been washed in dodgy water.  However, we concluded that not partaking in the street food opportunities would have been missing out on one of the lovely cultural aspects of being in the region, and decided to put our trust in the vendors.

As it turned out, this trust was well placed, and we had no tummy issues at all, at least not of their making.  

For a few days , Sarah was really off her food, but we eventually diagnosed the problem as one of her own making, namely taking anti-inflammatories on an empty stomach and/or without plenty of water.  A short break, and a three-day course of gut repair medication from a pharmacy had her right as rain.    

We wore sunscreen a lot of the time, though occasionally went without it when the air quality was particularly bad, figuring the smog would do the job of the sunscreen.  We had no trouble with mosquitoes, and besides, hadn't taken any insect repellant with us.  Undercarriages coped well with the time in the saddle, in no small part aided by Sweet Cheeks Butt Butter, which I mostly applied when bib shorts had only been hand-washed the night before.  Sarah took gloves but stopped wearing them after a couple of days as they were irritating her around her wedding ring.  I finished with some pretty good calluses, and occasionally had a bit of numbness on the bike which didn't amount to anything lingering (I've read having electronic shifting helps quite a lot in this regard).  


Security

We quickly discovered that our bikes were treated as if they were motorcycles.  Hotel staff generally were aghast at the suggestion of them going inside, and we were almost always directed to park them alongside the scooters.  On night one of a three week tour, this felt very uncomfortable, but we began to draw the conclusion that whatever our temporary hosts were comfortable with should be fine by us.  Outdoor hotel carparks tended to have an overnight security guard, and on one of the rare occasions the bikes were moved indoors, I think this stemmed from the hotel's sense that they couldn't guarantee their safety outside, so at their initiative rather than ours.

Whenever we stopped to visit a tourist attraction, we'd get the same advice, i.e. to park with the motorcycles.  Given how quickly we were accosted and given these directions, we were confident that the parking area was well monitored.  The going rate to guard a $10000 bike in Vietnam tended to be 2000 Dong, which is worth about 15 cents in NZ.  Despite that, the service provided was consistently top notch, and each and every time we returned to our bikes, we found them unmolested (often with all of our luggage left on them, apart from the bag I kept our passports in).  

We carried a short lock, and we would use it, but my strong hunch is that it was totally unnecessary.  

They spent about 2.5 hours sitting here on their own, while we took a boat ride and visited a couple of caves.  


Gear (including note taking)

Often in trip reports, I'll allude to an old Gear List, which I will likely have glanced at just before leaving home.  It is a decade old, so I thought I'd do a bit of a run down of our current approach.  

My fully loaded rig

For this three week trip, I went with a five bag setup on my bike, while Sarah had a smaller seat bag and a small handlebar bag.  With the exception of the latter, all our bags are by Revelate Designs which in NZ can be bought from Bryce at https://www.cyclewerks.co.nz/ (tell him sifter sent you!).  Our seat bags are old models, but my Mag Tank (bolt on top tube), Tangle frame bag, Pronghorn handlebar bag, and add-on Egress Pocket are all current.  

In the frame bag, I carried 3 tubes, a roll of duct tape, a decanted tub of Butt Butter, a tube of suncream, a first aid kit (some bandage, sterile wipes, nail clippers, anti-inflammatory spray, some nurofen, panadol, and anti-histamines) and some decent sized zip-ties.  The most used item was a Chux Wonder Cloth which I keep damp inside a plastic bag - absolutely essential when riding gravel or dirt roads as otherwise the dust builds up real fast.  In addition to a small clamp-style pump mounted on one water bottle cage, I also have a screw-on Lezyne Micro Floor Drive pump, which is light and efficient.  Finally, I carry a couple of pairs of brake pads, a spare seat post clamp, a spare rear derailleur hanger, and a spare Di2 battery.  In the side pocket, I have a couple of N95 masks, and it was a convenient place for the fridge magnets we bought en-route!

In the top tube bag, I have a tyre boot (a section of old racing tyre), tyre lever and puncture repair kit, and a small bottle of Finish-line chain lube (I use an old lid which doesn't have the child-proof clutch mechanism - I had one of the latter fail on me once, leaving the bottle essentially open).  I bundle a Blackburn Wayside multi-tool (which is heavy, but whose Allen keys are detachable and have the rounded ends - perfect for any fiddly reassembly tasks post-flight, and sure to reach the difficult to access bolts if need be), a Leatherman Squirt PS4 (pliers being the critical addition, though I also used the knife and one of the screwdrivers - to tighten my reading glasses - on this trip), and a Blackburn Pro Plugger tubeless tyre repair kit (which has a great valve core remover - or more critically, tightener - in one of the caps).  If that isn't enough, there's even room for some bog roll and a small bottle of hand sanitiser, and a bag of Fisherman's Friend, since I once got a dry throat!  

Most of that stuff I'd be happy not to use, but it generally turns out that a lot of it does come in handy at some point.  The only thing that does seem in the wrong place is the sunscreen, as we generally apply that only once a day, before rolling out, and it would be nice to have access to it in the hotel room.

In my handlebar bag (which is big enough for a pair of Allbird slip-ons, as well as storm gear), this time we had two sets of swimming togs, two Shakedry jackets, and two Macpac Nitro Fleece hoodies.  I was attracted to the latter by the fact that the fabric is light, breathable and warm when wet, originally invented US military for these same qualities.  I carried a buff also, because I hate having a cold head, something I shouldn't have worried about on this trip.    

Hanging off the front of the Pronghorn was the Egress Pocket, in which were our passports, a new-to-me portable keyboard (I wanted to keep trip notes as we rode), a couple of power-banks and a USB-C cable, a pen, a stash of USD, and a paper copy of our Vietnamese visas.  When I'm thinking ahead, I carry a Sea-to-Summit Ultra-Sil daypack, which as advertised, is a 20L backpack that "packs down to the size of a tennis ball and weighs just 72 grams", yet is rated for up to 7kg of groceries (or whatever else you choose to cram into it).  I'd sandwich my jandals between the pocket and the handlebar bag.  

There were a couple of days where I thought we might end up riding in the dark (including when getting of an overnight bus), so had my helmet-mounted Exposure Joystick light stashed in this easily accessible bag.   Rear lights hang out on whichever of our seatstays is closest to the traffic, and Sarah had a front light available also.  

Folding Bluetooth Keyboard (and phone stand) got occasional use, and I was glad to have it

In my saddle bag, I had one pair of undies, no spare socks, some shorts, light-weight long trousers, a merino t-shirt, a Macpac Eclipse short-sleeved shirt (made out of a technical fabric that dries quickly and doesn't seem to get smelly), and a Ground Effect Baked Alaska.  I used everything I'd taken, and the only thing I really missed was a second pair of socks on a couple of occasions that our riding gear was at an overnight laundromat.  As well as the clothing, I took responsibility for a bag of charging cables, as well as a selection of regional plugs for our Belkin BoostCharge device which is both a USB-C and USB-A wall charger (with travel adapters), and a power bank when you're on the move.   I'd sometimes carry some of Sarah's gear as well, and had ample room for it.  I have a Q-Spear bungee on the top of the bag, and this secures a range of things throughout the trip.  I also carry a 50cm long Abus lock, which is long enough to tie the two bikes together, and if we're lucky, to something that's tied down. The key for it goes on one of our GPS unit lanyards. For this trip, I also decided to haul a bottle of deodorant.  

Sarah typically carried her own clothes, jandals, and toiletries in her seatbag, and carried the Di2 charger in her handlebar bag. 

We had some Frooze Balls from NZ sprinkled around the place, many of which got eaten during the trip (or given away to inquisitive kids), and I returned home with at least one One Square Meal bar (I think we ate two others on the road).  

The list above is pretty tried and true, and while pretty much each trip has its own variations (especially if cold weather is more likely), the core above doesn't change much.  

I've not had a lot of success with our drone when we have taken it, and Viet Nam's official line was that you need to potentially pay a hefty import fee, and apply for permission for every flight.  Reading travellers' online accounts suggested that if flying into Hanoi, it was a pretty safe bet that it wouldn't be picked up at the border, but I did read about some people getting theirs confiscated.  All things considered, including the possibility that I'd not fly it even if we had it, I was comfortable leaving it at home.  

Finally, I rode in bibshorts and lycra jersey every day.  I swear by my Giro Synthe helmet, in large part due to the sunglass ports which keep my glasses secure and out of harm's way when I'm not wearing them.  I wear a cotton cap underneath it, both to prevent chill, or in this case sunburn, but also to prevent sweat from running.  I had to buy a new pair of shoes shortly before the trip, as the soles of my Shimano XC300 shoes have become unacceptably warm.  Recalling a sometimes brutal wearing-in period, I instead chose a pair of Giro Ventana shoes.  The sole is a little bit stiffer than ideal when off the bike, but having ridden in them for 3 weeks, and spending a fair bit of time mooching around on foot, I am really happy with them.  Sarah wears a pair of XC racing shoes, and I give her a hard time about them constantly!   


* * *

A bit of a lengthy brain-dump, but hopefully a useful resource for someone other than me!

Saturday, January 25, 2025

South-east Asian Curiosities - as seen from the road

Between 27 December and 17 January, Sarah and I completed a 2285km cycle tour between Hanoi, Vietnam, and Bangkok, Thailand.  This is the first of three posts, this one celebrating some of the more curious sights on our travels, themed, rather than sequenced as we saw them.  Next cab of the rank is likely to be a summary of some of the logistical aspects, followed by a more typical story about the trip.  In the meantime, I hope you get a few chuckles out of this lot!  


Food



The coffee culture in Viet Nam, and the coffee itself, was a real highlight.  These are "salt coffees", and Down Under this froth would likely have ended up in a pavlova (egg white).  The coffee is black and treacle-like, delicious, and cheap as chips

Something like NZ's huhu grub were fairly commonly available in markets.  Nearby were often roasted crickets, and once (in Cambodia), I saw snake.  

On the coast of Thailand, we saw horseshoe crab for sale.  Much less meat in this fellow than you might expect...  Caveat emptor!  

On our first morning, we got breakfast at a local market, and were slightly shocked to see one stall selling spit-roasted dog!  This was far from common though, and every other dog we saw was alive and kicking

Working the land


We crossed two borders, and we instantly noticed differences in how the land was being worked.  This remarkable contraption was fairly common in Viet Nam.  

Another model, high and dry

For about a 10km stretch in Cambodia, and nowhere else, many road-side sheds had a whump-whump-whump sound emanating from them, which in turn came from a very-localised engine-driven pounding contraption.

We saw a great many people wearing military-style clothing, and assumed that these were taken home at the end of military service, rather than purchased for casual and/or functional wear


Roading


The vast majority of the road we rode was in excellent condition. Some stretches, like this one, were eerily quiet, leaving us to wonder had we time travelled into an apocalypse, or had we maybe missed a memo somewhere and shouldn't be there.  Surely they're there for a good reason, and sometimes are jammed with vehicles, but in the state we saw them, it was often hard to believe?

Infrastructure on the Vietnamese coast between Hanoi and Hue seemed also to have been built for peak loads which were hard to imagine.  This magnificent 10-lane-plus-shoulder (used by motorcycles - and cyclists - in either direction), was effectively a 14-lane street, and for most of its length, we struggled to see an average of one vehicle per lane before our eyesight failed to cope with the distance!

Bridges like this weren't common, and in hindsight, we should have taken a lap!

More huge road devoid of people.  The hotel in the background may literally have just had us for the night.  We were certainly the only people in the restaurant both for dinner and breakfast in the morning.  We were offered all-you-can-eat a la carte, in place of the buffet!

One element of the Vietnamese highway network that I was glad to see the back of were these rumble strips.  Before every pedestrian crossing, there'd be a pair of them, and even with the fattish tyres, they became really tiresome.  There weren't many single kilometres without a pedestrian crossing...   GRRRRRR....!

Vehicles


In the big smoke(s), you'd occasionally see cars in skirts

Water appears to be abundant in Viet Nam, at least.  These setups were truck-wash facilities, and were fairly common (and often in use)

We generally felt really safe on the road - cars and trucks had plenty of experience with locals on motorcycles and bicycles, and as strangely dressed foreigners, we probably got a wider berth than most.  Every now and then we had to take evasive action, as with this fine fellow.

By the time we got to Cambodia, we were well used to seeing a lot on a single motorcycle - a whole family, furniture being moved, gas bottles, you name it.  The parts of Cambodia we saw were dead flat, and it was pretty common to see small motorcycles towing a decent sized shop

This truck was using old bicycle frames as wall-extensions, presumably so that the truck could be overfilled and the load more safely secured.  Innovative repurposing of something past its use-by date

Tuk-tuks were pretty common, and at times we got the sense they were being used for medium-distance travel - there were very many on the Viet Nam side of the border with Cambodia, and often in the towns.  This e-beauty was in Phnom Penh, which was an impressively modern city, given the relatively recent trauma the country went through

We struggled a bit to find transportation between Phnom Penh and Siem Reap, with many bus outfits balking at our bikes.  When we went to load our bikes into the back of this minivan, we were surprised to see a motorcycle already loaded!

Ummm, yeah, about that earlier trailer...  That was one of the punier ones!  This was the grandest I saw, and still boggles my mind 


Buildings


In a relatively short stretch of the Ho Chi Minh Highway, we saw a few dwellings in this style, reminding us very much of some of our pacific island travels

Cambodians have a nice practice of throwing a marquee up on the street, usually blocking one lane, but sometimes closing the whole road

Buildings like this were common in Viet Nam and Cambodia.  Curiously, they all have a speaker mounted in the eaves playing a bird-cheeping soundtrack, which may well have come from the same studio.  I'm guessing they are grain siloes, and that the bird-call is of something that eats rats and mice 


Language


It is what it says on the can.  Most of the public toilets in Cambodia and Thailand had urinals outside on the back of the building.  Not all were so eloquently sign-posted as this one

As we approached our first Cambodian hotel, it was fun to catch a reminder of home, namely the classic Wellington road ride, the Mākara Loop, and the Mākara Peak Mountain Bike Park, which I did a decade's volunteering in, and now get to relish in Khulie using it a few times a week (not least when I'm invited to join her)

Not sure about this as marketing genius.  It sounds like eating it will make you fat.  Or maybe become aroused.  (Maybe the explanation is in the untranslated fine print?!)  Either way, I didn't want it


Miscellaneous


I was impressed to discover some street food served in someone's old maths homework!


From time to time the loo paper couldn't be hung on a traditional dispenser

We passed two windfarms in Viet Nam - one small one on the Ho Chi Minh Highway, and a massive installation near the coast north of Hue, pictured here.  The turbine blades had a very distinct rearwards curvature, which seemed unusual compared to those I recall from NZ and elsewhere

In Viet Nam particularly, you could buy stuff on the roadside almost constantly.  But, along a stretch of road, everyone seemed to be selling the same thing, be it marble garden ornaments, seafood, firewood, incense, or even mortar and pestle sets.  We think this was probably something "medicinal"

Very occasionally we were able to properly launder our clothes.  This hotel room had a nifty clothes line stuck to the window

The were plenty of cool looking water buffaloes and regular cows in Viet Nam.  These long-eared long-legged weirdoes were Cambodian

Speaking of weirdoes, this strange bloke was out and about in socks and jandals!