As I sit on my idling motorbike, waiting for the traffic lights to change, there is a subtle sign that I am no longer in the city. The laid back folks here are waiting for the countdown to reach zero before accelerating away.
The Ho Chi Minh Road runs along the mountainous spine of Vietnam. For much of its length, the road is a quiet, well-made, easily accessible, two-lane highway which sees very little traffic compared to the other major north-south road, Highway 1.
After negotiating through a glut of vehicles leaving Buon Ma Thuot, the Ho Chi Minh Road cuts northeast, as straight as a landing strip, over an agricultural plateau. The red soil – somehow deeper and earthier than previously – is a dusty plague of airborne particles, making the air thick and hazy, especially with the addition of the exhaust fumes from passing trucks. The red earth even appears to have changed the pigment of local people’s skin: much of the population on this plateau are ethnic minorities whose skin tone is darker and more leathery in appearance than lowland Vietnamese, as they spend much of their lives working outside on the land.
The Ho Chi Minh Road is in excellent condition all the way from Buon Ma Thuot to Pleiku. This is a good thing, because it makes an otherwise uninspiring leg of the journey more enjoyable.
Pleiku emerges from the dusty highland plains, looking as if a bag of concrete has been dumped over a hillside and left to dry. As Kon Tum is only another hours’ ride north of here, there’s not much incentive to stay in Pleiku. On the way out of Pleiku, I venture down some of the backstreets to discover the rough and ready character of Pleiku. Biên Hô Xahn has buckets of character. It is a great location with a view across a small lake: shady and quiet, a great place to enjoy excellent food and drinks.
Between Pleiku and Kon Tum, the Ho Chi Minh Road is arrow-straight and the scenery changes for the better. Rugged mountains grow up from the plains, where rivers provide enough water for rice cultivation. Since I am making good time I decide to leave the highway to explore the Minority Villages of the rugged Central Highlands, a cluster of several Bahnar villages on the periphery of Kon Tum. The Jarai villages still practise traditional customs, such as the feeding of the dead in traditional cemeteries, as do the 'Hilltop' Bahnar. As I look for these graveyards in the first few villages, a huge storm rolls in so I skirt the remaining tribal villages and open up the throttle to find shelter from the storm.
Kon Tum has a fabulous position: on the banks of the Dak Bla River with mountains behind. Peaceful during the day and pleasantly abuzz in the evenings, Kon Tum is a very characterful highland town: colonial buildings, riverside promenades and views of the surrounding countryside are just some of its merits. Near a suspension bridge across the river, near the large, immaculate rong is the village of Kon Klor. In this little green oasis is the Konklor Hotel where I can shelter from the storm and enjoy some delicious food.
Kon Tum has a fabulous position: on the banks of the Dak Bla River with mountains behind. Peaceful during the day and pleasantly abuzz in the evenings, Kon Tum is a very characterful highland town: colonial buildings, riverside promenades and views of the surrounding countryside are just some of its merits. Near a suspension bridge across the river, near the large, immaculate rong is the village of Kon Klor. In this little green oasis is the Konklor Hotel where I can shelter from the storm and enjoy some delicious food.
Distance: 271.6km
No comments:
Post a Comment