The way to Mui Ne followed highway 28. Any relationship to the word highway is in this road out of place. It is in places only wide enough for one car and steep switchbacks guaranteeing low truck traffic. Good conditions for motorcycle riders, if they do not have to deal with a gearlever coming loose, again. Somehow, I managed to drive 40 km in third gear. Then I got lever welded back in position.
Saturday afternoon I arrived at the beach resort of Mui Ne and found a guest house. My sleeping place cost me $5, including a balcony with sea view. The restaurant area of the guesthouse was attractively designed and food and drinks were cheap. While I was there, I chatted with the guesthouse owner and her son, who had come to visit.
A walk along the beach and a swim in the sea, where I was hit by the full force of the surf more than once followed the talk. In the evening I went into one of the open-air seafood restaurants across the street from my guest house to get dinner. Good food, cold beer and the view over the waves, dimly lit by the moonlight - it could have been worse.
On the second day I went to the sand dunes in the wider Mui Ne area. First I wanted to go to the farthest dune. But my spark plug went loose more than once, leading to some unintentional stops. Eventually I started to get bored, the idea to test my Minsk on a sand track popped up in my mind. Downhill, I could keep the bike on the slopes well, but in a flat part it stopped running. I had to bear the consequences and push a heavy white Russian motorcycle up a sand road under the merciless sun. After this experience, I turned around and stopped at the first dunes. A cold beverage, an action movie roll in the sand and a few photos later, I drove back towards Mui Ne. On the way to Mui Ne, I stopped twice. The first stop was to satisfy my spontaneous curiosity. I saw a row of small fish sauce factories, and wanted to know what exactly went on in there. With a little gesticulation I could explain what I wanted and was allowed to take pictures in the factory. The second stop was in Mui Ne; there you can follow up a river to a waterfall. Once all the children, that market themselves as guides, left behind the place stands up to its name (fairy spring). The river is not more than forty centimeters deep, and flows through a valley of dunes, sand stone and lush growth of plants.
In the afternoon I was again talking at length with the owner of my guest house. Eventually we went from my current job status to her son. He had the best qualifications to compete for a job at a bank in Saigon, but only got the job after a sum of $3,000 went to the director of the bank. His mother's savings were gone.
Before I left the next morning, the guesthouse owner read the future from my palm lines. It does not look bad for me, after all.
Saturday afternoon I arrived at the beach resort of Mui Ne and found a guest house. My sleeping place cost me $5, including a balcony with sea view. The restaurant area of the guesthouse was attractively designed and food and drinks were cheap. While I was there, I chatted with the guesthouse owner and her son, who had come to visit.
A walk along the beach and a swim in the sea, where I was hit by the full force of the surf more than once followed the talk. In the evening I went into one of the open-air seafood restaurants across the street from my guest house to get dinner. Good food, cold beer and the view over the waves, dimly lit by the moonlight - it could have been worse.
On the second day I went to the sand dunes in the wider Mui Ne area. First I wanted to go to the farthest dune. But my spark plug went loose more than once, leading to some unintentional stops. Eventually I started to get bored, the idea to test my Minsk on a sand track popped up in my mind. Downhill, I could keep the bike on the slopes well, but in a flat part it stopped running. I had to bear the consequences and push a heavy white Russian motorcycle up a sand road under the merciless sun. After this experience, I turned around and stopped at the first dunes. A cold beverage, an action movie roll in the sand and a few photos later, I drove back towards Mui Ne. On the way to Mui Ne, I stopped twice. The first stop was to satisfy my spontaneous curiosity. I saw a row of small fish sauce factories, and wanted to know what exactly went on in there. With a little gesticulation I could explain what I wanted and was allowed to take pictures in the factory. The second stop was in Mui Ne; there you can follow up a river to a waterfall. Once all the children, that market themselves as guides, left behind the place stands up to its name (fairy spring). The river is not more than forty centimeters deep, and flows through a valley of dunes, sand stone and lush growth of plants.
In the afternoon I was again talking at length with the owner of my guest house. Eventually we went from my current job status to her son. He had the best qualifications to compete for a job at a bank in Saigon, but only got the job after a sum of $3,000 went to the director of the bank. His mother's savings were gone.
Before I left the next morning, the guesthouse owner read the future from my palm lines. It does not look bad for me, after all.
 |
| Fish sauce factory I |
 |
| Fish sauce factory II |
No comments:
Post a Comment