Hanne

Twenty four hours in Viet Nam have finally convinced me that yes, poppy the ax hundy IS a real bike after all. Here the streets are ruled by scooters, ranging from top of the line ones decked out with ‘Repsol Honda’ stickers to the scrappiest little buckets you could imagine. Some even have replica Yoshi systems to make their ‘bra braaa’ into more of a ‘brA brAAA’ (although it is still a ‘bra’ and has not yet graduated into being a ‘broom’). Poppy wouldreally be in her element on these streets, amongst the 4 million other motorcycles that zoom up and down and around the streets and footpaths and building lobbies. Maybe she could be friends with the Winnie The Pooh vespa that parks outside our hotel…

My first introduction to Viet Nam’s fascination with two wheels happened on the way to our hotel from the airport. A queen sized mattress strapped to the back of a wee 125 scooter and another wee hundy with three dress mannequins as pillions should have been clues that this is a different world entirely when it comes to rules of the road. Although some things stay the same between countries and tonight we saw a man with five crates of ‘Bia Saigon’ strapped to the back of his bike. I seem to remember similar events occurring amongst certain circles in NZ (uni bike club party, anyone? :P).

We arrived in Ho Chi Minh city yesterday and at first neither Stephen nor I wanted to leave our room. Serenaded by the orchestra of horns from below, our rumbling bellies finally persuaded us to gingerly venture out onto the street. Very gingerly. We had been warned in advance about traffic in Viet Nam and how the road rules adher to some kind of magic system that pretty much boils down to ‘I’m bigger, I win’. This can be rather intimidating when you want to cross the road. All guide books seemed to advocate the same system: wander out slowly and once you have started, don’t stop until you are across: Predictability is key. Every time I have tried this in Auckland I have been almost bowled over by a bus, so I was rather sceptical at first. It was quite intimidating to trust those printed words in ‘Lonely Planet’ and put our lives in their hands, but it worked. You pretty much put yourself into lala land then hum a song to yourself while your legs move. Easy! Still, we had to stop for a high five after crossing our first road.

Neither of us have been brave enough to try a ‘xe om’ motorcycle taxi yet, but I did notice that Stephen was rather taken by the helmet stand at the market. He was paying particularly close attention to a black floral army style hat, so watch out NZ, he may be hitting the mean streets of Auckland with a style revolution. Or our garage for a photo shoot on the GN125, which is probably what these helmets are more suited to. There will be plenty of time for posing while over here too, I am sure, and plenty more weird and wonderful sights, both two wheeled and wheeless. I will end this entry with a shout out to my bike, Poppy the ax100: I am sorry that I doubted you! Your 100cc are indeed mighty and your clouds of blue smoke trump any puffs that may grace the streets of this motorcycle crazy city.

PS. Magua will be pleased to hear that the police ride mighty cb200s here. We can take a picture so you can paint yours up like a real cop bike