I was driving on a coastal road from Mui Ne to Vung Tau. Fishing villages and hotel resorts divided the stretch of beach amongst each other. I was pleased with my bike until about forty kilometers off Vung Tau. At this point, I heard a clicking sound. Twenty kilometers still to go, there was a loud bang from inside the Minsk, the drive chain had broken. As always in such cases, I pushed the bike to the next workshop. There the mechanic started to work, immediately. But instead fixing the chain, he worked at the clutch. After ten minutes, during which he had badly adjusted my clutch, he followed my suggestion and opened the right panel. Then he had his lunch break, not too bad, so I could eat at a restaurant, as well. About forty minutes after the end of my lunch break, the mechanics showed up with a new chain. The process of replacing the chain took forever and during it, my kick-start was heavily damaged. In addition, the chain was a bit too long, so from that point on there was a loud clicking sound when my bike was running.
The bike was working again but the repair was not satisfactory at all. The new chain was too long, my clutch screwed and the kick-start only working to a limited degree. My position on the repair didn't suit the mechanic. He was convinced, that he had repaired the bike. There was a tense atmosphere. The mechanic asked for more than a fair amount of money for his work. This brought me to the brink of physical assault. But instead of throwing punches, I threw the money in his direction and left.
In the early evening I arrived in Vung Tau. The people of Vung Tau must have heard my bike from miles away. The experience in the workshop had ruined my day. I limited myself to the basics (shelter, food, beer) and was glad, that my built-up aggression did not unloaded itself at some street vendor.
The bike was working again but the repair was not satisfactory at all. The new chain was too long, my clutch screwed and the kick-start only working to a limited degree. My position on the repair didn't suit the mechanic. He was convinced, that he had repaired the bike. There was a tense atmosphere. The mechanic asked for more than a fair amount of money for his work. This brought me to the brink of physical assault. But instead of throwing punches, I threw the money in his direction and left.
In the early evening I arrived in Vung Tau. The people of Vung Tau must have heard my bike from miles away. The experience in the workshop had ruined my day. I limited myself to the basics (shelter, food, beer) and was glad, that my built-up aggression did not unloaded itself at some street vendor.
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| No chance of getting tanned at the time I arrived at the beach. |
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