My Buddha Buddy

A motorcycle outing in any part of SE Asia is a scary thought - especially in Viet Nam. Scooters and motorcycles outnumber cars and trucks by at least 100 to 1. In Thailand and Cambodia traffic usually paused to let pedestrians to cross. In Viet Nam they Do. Not. Stop. Our previous guide Bo taught us to clump closely together and chant “sticky rice” to remind us to stick together and walk through the intersection. That gets the group across tho not without a chorus of beeping horns. 

Traffic laws in N America do not apply here. Lights and signs and lane markers are mere suggestions.  Maybe no laws.  Seems there’s an 8 seconds of grace when your light turns red. Just carry on. Every stoplight clearly shows the time remaining. And the people stopped for red jump the gun by 3 to 4 seconds. Directional lanes have little meaning as you get a lot of scooters coming towards you in your lane. The sidewalk is an alternate path for impatient drivers. Look out pedestrians!!!!

Today’s motorcycle tour of Hué was a rodeo. Imagine these actual scenarios - our sticky rice group of motorcycles is zipping along but soon other riders are intermingled within and at an intersection some of the interlopers need to turn left, some right so mayhem ensues  We come to a roundabout. Vehicles are entering and exiting but no do not pass in roundabout code We have 8 metres to charge through to the innermost lane, then another 8 to get out to an exit.  Vehicle doors open randomly. And on and on. Yet the drivers all seem to be telepathically linked and it’s a bit like a fast motion ballet. While my motorcycle had two uncomfortably close calls (by North American standards) and one hair raising moment, we all survived. My scares were more like a “Buddha has granted me another day of life” shrug of the shoulders to the locals. My cowboy kept yelling “Ye Haw” when we passed other tour riders.

4 stops on the tour:

The first true local market of the whole trip

The last Vietnamese Emperor’s tomb. It took 27 years to construct. The guy lived for 13 years after it was finished. He had 110 concubines but no children as he contracted smallpox as a young boy. It’s a huge acreage. The tomb itself in not at all ornate. Our guide said the statues were the height of the actual people back then.

Lunch at a Buddhist pagoda.

A pagoda that an Emperor built because a street lady said she dreamed he did. In 1973, the head Buddhist monk of Saigon drove his car to a public square, sat in the lotus position, doused himself with gasoline and self-immolated to protest the Diem government’s crackdown on Buddhism. Our guide said when the fire burned out his hands were still held in prayer and his heart was still beating. I remember seeing pictures of that scene. His car is venerated at the pagoda.

I was thankful to my Buddha Buddy for two reasons. It was 13 degrees and had rained for three days. Despite the forecast of 80% POP we only had a few spits. I have no jacket, just a sweater. Jesse texted that he and Carl were enjoying 80 degree sunny weather in Southern Thailand. Secondly, we all survived the motorcycle mayhem. 

Tonight an overnight train ride to Hanoi.