North Vietnam has some of
the best motorbike routes in the world. Duncan Forgan saddles up on a battered
Honda Win to plot a thrilling route through the mountainous countryside around
Sapa.

Mysteries
abound in the mountains of northern Vietnam and fresh insights are precious. In
deep river valleys and sky-scraping passes, minority tribes like the Hmong and
Dzao guard their independence fiercely, sticking doggedly to traditions that
have evolved over millennia.

A village marker in the northern mountains outside of
Sapa, Vietnam. Photo by Aaron Joel Santos.

That’s
why I feel doubly privileged when Thi, my Dzao friend and reigning pool
champion for the evening in the Hmong Sisters bar in Sapa, takes some time out
from annihilating backpackers on the green baize to help me plan a motorbike
route for the following day.  



“You follow the main road to here,” she says, marking out a junction on a crude
approximation of the highway between Sapa and Lai Chau. “Then follow this road
up to the right. Just remember, the marker says Ban Xeo.”



As a lover of southern cuisine and banh xeo (sizzling Vietnamese crepe) in
particular, I have little difficulty remembering Thi’s directions. After
enduring the dusty backwash from the many trucks that ply the main highway, it
is a relief when the marker reveals itself.

Hiking among the terraced rice fields in the mountains of
northern Vietnam. Photo by Aaron Joel Santos.

With
the bulk of Mount Fansipan, the highest mountain in Indochina, to my left, I
climb out of one valley before stopping at the crest of another to catch my
breath and admire the scenery. Unfurling before me is a generous valley nestled
in an amphitheatre of mighty peaks. Back in Sapa, the harvest is nearly
complete and most of the rice paddies are a forlorn shade of brown. Here,
however, the work is ongoing and the valley glows with vibrant yellow hues.



A stray dog has joined me at my perch at the head of the valley to enjoy the
view. But man’s best friend has a rival for my affections: the battered, but
still beautiful, Honda Win I am piloting around the countryside for the day.
    



Anyone who has dodged Vespa, Hondas and Suzukis in Hanoi or Ho Chi Minh City
will know about Vietnam’s inexorable link with motorbikes. Yet while the
teeming streets of its main cities can test the patience of even the most
committed biker, its spectacular countryside offers limitless manna for those
who want to live out their Easy Rider fantasies.

Young men ride motorbikes up a dirt path amidst the
mountains of Sapa in northern Vietnam. Photo by Aaron Joel Santos.

The
Ho Chi Minh Highway, which dissects the country from north to south, has its
advocates, but true biking connoisseurs tend to hit the heady heights of the
far north.



Here, in remote provinces such as Ha Giang, Cao Bang and Lao Cai, you’ll find a
wealth of minority tribes, some of the globe’s most inspiring landscapes and
even the odd tourist attraction such as the UNESCO-accredited Dong Van Stone
Plateau in Ha Giang and Sapa itself, a former French hill station that has
become the de facto base for exploring northwest Vietnam.



While Sapa, with its numerous hotels, restaurants and bars, is no stranger to
development, out here in the countryside change occurs at a much more stately
pace. Of course, modernisation is inevitable and it’s impossible to begrudge
the pylons bringing electricity to these remote outposts, even when they do
encroach on the frequent photo opportunities.

A Hmong woman overlooks a valley in Sapa,
Vietnam. Photo by Aaron Joel Santos.

Nevertheless,
these landscapes remain timeless. With just over half a day to play with, I
don’t have an awful lot of time. Luckily, the 33 km route between the main junction
and the tiny village of Ban Xeo is easily negotiated in a leisurely morning’s
ride. The fact that the road turns out to be so scenic is another stroke of
fortune.



The journey is replete with visual and cultural highlights. As the road snakes
down from the valley head in a series of sharp bends — many bookended by
surging waterfalls spouting down from the high slopes — the sun burns off the
day’s remaining mist.

A rainbow on the mountainside of a small village in Sapa,
Vietnam. Photo by Aaron Joel Santos. Photo by Aaron Joel Santos.

Outside
the village of Ban Khoang, a work team of Dzao men are hard at work in the
field, their waiting Hondas loaded up with straw by the side of the road. A
little further along in a clearing overlooking yet another beautiful valley,
their womenfolk sit in a circle taking turns to puff on a thuoc la (wooden
tobacco pipe) as their children lark around them.



The ride itself, meanwhile, is an absolute joy. Shorn of fume-belching trucks —
the scourge of Vietnam’s highways — the only hazards on the road are occasional
potholes and the odd meandering pig or two. It’s easy, therefore, to discount a
zealous application of driving skills and focus on the ever-evolving and
ever-magnificent scenery.

Ethnic minority farmers in the mountains of Sapa in
northern Vietnam harvest their rice fields. Photo by Aaron Joel Santos.

By
the time I reach Ban Xeo, I’m reluctant to turn back. A right turn will take me
to the Red River and the border with China. A left will take me even farther to
the north. As enticing as they seem, these new routes will need to wait until
another time. There are always more mysteries to uncover by motorbike in
Vietnam.

Source:
vietnamtourism.vn