Dalat and Mui Ne, Vietnam, A Few Firsts.

We had a few firsts in Mui Ne. It was our first Vietnam beach town, our first moto hire, first puncture, first descent rip off and my first real desert experience.

To begin, the moto. Andy decided to give an manual a shot, and was surprised to find there's no clutch on these beasties. Is that the norm? Not sure. I always thought Harleys have clutches? Anyway, he took to it really well, and soon we were living our Vietnam easy rider dream thundering (as much as a little moto can) around the stunning coast line.

The freedom was great, we've been cooped up so much public transport and tours that I'd forgotton how grand it is to be your own master. We toured the countryside, stopping off at some local fishing spots to get a look see at the traditional painted boats with bold yellow, red, and blue stripes across the sides and two big eyes painted on the stern. There were hundreds of them. We also stopped at a cemetry facing out to the sea with stone plots painted bright blue, green and pink all pastel bursting out of the red sand earth. Stunning. The area reeked of kodak moments as awkward as we felt about it.

We continued our tour 25km out to the white sand dunes where you can hire plastic boards off local kids to ride the huge dunes on your belly. Unfortunately this is where our back tyre blew out! Andy did well to control the bike which fish tailed a little and brought it to a stop. SHIT. It was super duper hot and we were on top of a hill god knows where. Not a good feeling.

So we took it off the road and walked to the next town, luckily not too far off. Promptly we found a 'honda' shop - painted on a piece of cardborad hanging from a tree. It was a home made tin shack with a man sleeping in a hammock and a monkey chained to the side. Excellent.

20 mins later we were back on the road $200,000 dong lighter. It turns out it should have only been $20,000D but them's the breaks, I should have batered, I should have asked the man to call our resort to negotiate payment, but instead we were so happy to get it sorted we didnt really stop to think. Good news is $200,000D is about $15NZD and the hotel came to the party of a quater of this after some major battles.

So we continued on, out to the dunes along a dirt road with a oasis on our right, spattered with pink lotus blooms and palm trees, and another stunning cemetry on our left. A kid waved us down shouting 'whi san doon!' and we hired his mats and headed out to the desert on foot.

Worst call ever. It was noon, it was dry, it was hot beyond belief, and the dunes unknowingly were about 15 mins walk away. The walk out was hard, instantly I lagged behind Andy, my hobbit legs cursing my advance. every full step turned to a quarter as my feet sank into the sand. the sun pounded down, and the incline of the dunes was soon upon us. It was a stunning sight, cliffs of white sand against a bright blue sky, wind whipping over the tops making little sand fountains that curled around the peaks. Whatever. This was wasted on me as the sun had sapped my energy and patience along with it.

As we climbed the wind picked up and soon we were being thrashed by sand - yes girls - microderm abrasion, sun bedding and sauna all in one! Microderm abrasion on the eyeballs though, not so fun.

Soon we reached the top of the ridge and gave surfing a go. Andy started out really slow, tossing sand up making watching him impossible. I lay down on the slope, face first, but no movement. The sand was washing over me as the wind scattered over the top of the dune. It was about 50% air 50% sand. Eyes closed, mouth closed. I started getting desperate and flapped myself round like a dying seal to get some traction and get out of the sand stream. Woosh! Suddenly i was flying down with my feet out trying to slow it down! Andy was like a target in my sights, smiling away, till he realised the trajectory and leapt aside, a near miss.

It was fun for 15 seconds, but effort vs reward, no way worth it! Getting back out of the valley was harder still, the incline was greater, the sun was hotter, I was hotter, basically a sand crusted beast. On the second ascent I was pathetic, every two minutes i had to stop to let the energy return to my weakened thighs. It was a strange feeling, i wasnt tired, or panting, my sweat was dry by the sun and sand, but i had absolutely no energy or muscle to get up the hill, forced to move at a snails pace.

When i finaly did make it i resolved to retreat, Andy however decided to give it one more go after his dismal beginning. Bad call. When i saw him again at the top of the next ridge his face was red with blood, his eyes lost, his feet heavy. Way worse than i had been. My eyes were spotted with the begginings of a faint so we headed back. I am proud to admit during our exhaustive walk back i still managed to be a green kiwi and pick up the scattered cigarette packets across the sand. Some people eh, littering in the desert! i dont know.

When we made it back to the roadside stand, I collapsed and inhaled a big bottle of water. The kid took Andy around the back and cooled him Vietnamese style with buckets of well water. He even even soaped his head. What a sight!! I took photos but they do the moment no justice. I'm sure the kid thought it was all pretty funny. ...ha ....ha ...ha

Lesson - deserts are ridiculously hot and punishing, and desert sports are generally a bad idea. Go figure.