Saigon to Bảo Loc - 4 Nov

 

Leaving Saigon at a remarkably punctual 0900, the team headed out to do battle with the vicious traffic.  Luckily enough the weather gods were with us and we managed to negotiate the myriad of car/bike lanes to get ourselves off the motorway after about 80 Km.  

Once traffic free we were joined by a new member "DB".  Danger Bandford (not to be confused with Danger Mouse).  Keeping up with rest of the team, no problem.  Sything hrough the hoards of school children on mopeds, dicing with ambuances and showing truck drivers who is boss......all in a days work for DB.

Once off the motorway and onto smaller roads the weather changed and so waterproofs became the order of the day,  like a fruit salad:  Girlie grapes, while the boys were all oranges and lemons!

The final 100 Kms involved a tricky turn over a foot bridge onto a winding mountain pass, superb views and great DB countryside.  

All that remained was to check in to the hotel in Bao Loc and have a superb fishy dinner with just a few beers to introduce DM to the team, only fly in the opintment was Terry's roast chicken.... It was dreadful!

Or as chat GPT says about it:

A 280 km Ride from Saigon: From Boring Highways to Mountain Roads and Unexpected Rain

Riding a motorbike in Vietnam is an adventure in itself, especially when you leave the buzzing streets of Ho Chi Minh City (Saigon) and head into the more serene, rural parts of the country. Yesterday was day 1 on the road: 280 km ride—100 km out of Saigon, a quick coffee stop, then onward into the mountains. Here's a glimpse of the day.

The First 100 km: The Boring Motorway

Leaving Saigon by motorbike, we quickly realized that I had underestimated how monotonous the first leg of the journey would be,,,, if it had not been for the suicidal moped riders and the antics of “DB”. The motorway to the outskirts of the city is wide and fast, a straight line of tarmac that stretches on for miles but with myriads of “bike only” rat runs. While it offers a certain sense of freedom—especially as the city’s chaotic traffic fades into the background—it's also pretty mind-numbing and terrifying all at the same time. The road was full of trucks, buses, and loads of motorcycles like ours, but it was more about speed than scenery.

The highway itself is lined with typical industrial areas, farms, and the occasional convenience store. It felt like a necessary evil, a means to an end, to get out of the urban sprawl. As we throttled through, I tried to focus on the horizon, feeling the wind on my face, but I couldn’t help thinking, "When does the real adventure begin?"

A Coffee Stop: Refueling for the Next Leg

After about 100 km of the motorway, we left the motorway an pulled over for a much-needed break at a small roadside café. These places are often the best part of a long journey—they serve as a reminder of how warm and inviting local culture can be, even in the middle of nowhere.  New favourite drink “247” caramel coffee.

The café, a tiny family-run spot with a few plastic chairs scattered under a tarpaulin, served some of the best coffee I’ve had on the road. Strong, sweet, and aromatic, the dark Vietnamese drip coffee was the perfect pick-me-up. The owners didn’t speak much English, but their smiles were enough to communicate the warmth of their hospitality. The breeze was cooling, and we took a moment to stretch my legs, check the bike, and rehydrate before heading off again.

On to Smaller Roads: A Taste of Vietnam's True Beauty

From the motorway, we took a series of smaller, more winding roads that lead me deeper into the countryside. This is when the ride started to get interesting.

The roads were narrow, sometimes barely wide enough for two vehicles to pass, and lined with lush green fields. Here, there were no more trucks, just the occasional scooter or farmer carrying goods to market. I passed small villages where the pace of life seemed slower, the air fresher, and the scenery more peaceful.

As I navigated through the countryside, I noticed how the terrain shifted. The flat landscape gave way to rolling hills, and the trees began to grow thicker. The road twisted and turned, following the contours of the land. Riding along these smaller roads felt like I was being guided deeper into Vietnam’s soul.

The Unexpected Downpour: Heavy Rain and the Struggle to Stay Dry

Just as I was soaking in the tranquility of the journey, the sky darkened, and the first drops of rain began to fall. At first, it was a light drizzle—a welcome cooling effect from the midday heat. But it quickly escalated into a heavy downpour. The roads became slick, and visibility dropped. we had to slow down and pay close attention to the road, but it was all part of the experience.

My gear wasn’t entirely waterproof, but I had my rain jacket and gloves, so I tried my best to stay dry. The rain added a layer of challenge to the ride, but also a sense of adventure. Riding through a downpour in the middle of nowhere felt oddly thrilling—the sense of being in the moment, completely absorbed in the environment, was unlike anything I’ve felt before.

The Rope Bridge: A Surreal Moment

As we continued on my way, the rain started to let up. we arrived at a small village, and just as I was about to pass through, I spotted something unexpected: a tiny rope bridge crossing over a deep turbulent river.

It looked like something out of a film. The kind of bridge you’d expect to see in the middle of nowhere, suspended high above the earth, swaying gently in the wind. The bridge wasn’t large, but it had an unmistakable charm and capable of 2 way bike traffic!  We crossed it carefully, and spent a few moments taking in the view below—the sound of the river rushing through the rocks was a soothing contrast to the heavy rain we had just endured.

It was a small, almost surreal moment in the ride, one of those unexpected gems that make motorbike travel so special.

The Final 100 km: Mountain Roads in Light Drizzle

The final leg of the journey took me into the mountains. The roads were curvier, steeper, and the drizzle had turned into a light mist. The air was cooler, and the view was incredible. The landscape was dominated by towering peaks, lush valleys, and tea plantations that stretched out for miles.

Riding through the mist, the sense of isolation and peace was tangible. There were hardly any other vehicles on the road, and I could hear the sound of birds and the wind rustling through the trees. This was the kind of ride that made the earlier boring motorway miles worthwhile—the sense of freedom was immense.

The last 100 km felt like a journey into another world. The drizzle added a mysterious atmosphere, making the roads even more challenging but also more rewarding. I could feel the connection with the land and the rhythm of the road, the bike moving almost seamlessly between the twists and turns of the mountain path.

Reflections on the Ride

By the time we reached Bao Loc, I was both physically tired and mentally exhausted. The 280 km ride had started as a simple, somewhat uneventful journey, but it turned into an adventure filled with small, remarkable moments: the coffee stop, the downpours, the rope bridge, and the mountain roads.

Riding a motorbike gives you the chance to experience places in a way that’s impossible when you're in a car or on a bus. You feel the elements, you see things up close, and you’re much more connected to the environment. This ride was a reminder of why we love motorbike travel: it's unpredictable, challenging, and you get to meet Danger Blandford.