Journey on the silk road in Vietnam

Whilst in Hanoi we went shopping at a silk factory and decided we could not leave without purchasing at least one of those beautiful fabrics. They tallied up the cost and it came to a bit more than a million dong, which is actually not that much money, but I was unaccustomed to carrying a million in any currency in my wallet. “No problem sir. Hop on the back of my scooter and I take you to ATM.” So, in that ratbag sea of destruction that they call the local traffic, I am holding tightly onto the body of a twenty year-old dressmaker while she flies down the highway at great speed weaving around pedestrians brave enough to cross the road and dodging in and out of all the hundreds of other two wheeled vehicles. It is always a Grand Prix with these people. There is no such thing as a leisurely drive! It is a constant battle for position, the competition for space is intense.

The first ATM didn’t like my card. They sometimes get choosy these overseas ATMs. No problem, we try another one down another highway. Same problem. No problem we keep trying. Third time jackpot! The machine liked my card sufficiently to dispense a million dong. Job done, now back to base.

It seemed that the shortest and fastest route was actually the way we came so the girl at the handlebars took us, literally, back the way we came which is to say everyone else was actually driving towards us rather than in the same direction. It was scary enough traveling with the traffic but now we were traveling against it. I simply held on tighter and closed my eyes. The dodgiest move of all was the crossing, going against everyone else, at the major intersection. Bikes were jostling in every direction and here were we going the wrong way through all this chaos. I suppose that if there is chaos already, what difference does a little more chaos make?

Did I mention that motor cycles and even bicycles are used by the locals to transport everything especially, it seems, things that were never, ever intended to travel on a two wheeled vehicle? Cows, household furniture, structural beams, haystacks – all can be seen on the back of or all over a motorbike. Whole families ride on a single bike and Vietnamese families are not small. Some people fit more bodies on a motor bike than we do in a car. And no one wears a helmet. All the helmets ended up with bullet holes through them or half melted from exposure to napalm. 

In essence, the moral of this story is that there is absolutely no ends that a young Vietnamese seamstress will go to in order to secure a sale. Even risking her life! That translates to an incredible display of customer service.