Central Highlands, My Son, and then on to Hoi An – November 25, 2010

We had breakfast at the same restaurant we went to for dinner. It was there that we discovered that the French Colonials had left the Vietnamese people gifts other than venereal disease and the Guillotine… the secret of baking baguettes. The owner of the restaurant just happened to also have a bakery next door. This bakery used a wood-fired oven to bake traditional baguettes… crunchy-crusted, melt-in-your-mouth centred, hot from the oven – simply the best baguettes we have EVER had! They were so good, they didn’t even need butter or jam – you just ate them plain so that you could savour every single incredible morsel. Add a couple of cups of fresh Vietnamese Coffee and… oh man, I still have dreams about that breakfast….

Fresh baguettes and Vietnamese Coffee for breakfast, Prao.

Wood-fired baguette oven, Prao.

Baguette oven and owner of the bakery, Prao.

Ready to become the world’s best baguettes, Prao.

Our dinner and breakfast restaurant, Prao.

After breakfast, we left Prao behind…

“Farm vehicle”, Prao.

Leaving Prao behind.

A nice warm road to lay on, Central Highlands.

Mist over the valleys, Central Highlands.

Another butt-break, Central Highlands.

Over-grown wires, Central Highlands.

Double-happiness, Central Highlands.

Mountains and valleys as far as the eye can see, Central Highlands.

Boy at a roadside café, Central Highlands.

As we were coming down off the Central Highlands, our weather-luck finally ran out – it started to rain… then it poured; as it only can in the tropics.

Time to put on the rain-gear, Central Highlands.

Rained-on but still happy, Central Highlands.

Waiting out the downpour at a roadside café, Central Highlands.

Duc and Roger at the roadside café, Central Highlands.

Eron and Mr. Tu at the roadside café, Central Highlands.

Lady at the roadside café, Central Highlands.

More tourists taking refuge from the rain, Central Highlands.

Yet another tour group rides in, Central Highlands.

The nice thing about tropical rain-storms is that they usually don’t last very long. This one was no exception and started to peter-out within a hour. So, off into the lightening drizzle we rode. Then we came to a river crossing…

Approaching the river-ferry, Central Highlands.

Checking out the local river-ferry, Central Highlands.

Mr. Tu and Duc riding the bikes onto the river-ferry, Central Highlands.

Crossing the river, Central Highlands.

Sampan on the river, Central Highlands.

A dog is being brought to market, Central Highlands.

Mr. Tu rides off the river-ferry, Central Highlands.

Then Duc rides off, Central Highlands.

If you’re thinking, “Well, that didn’t look too bad.” I walked off the river-ferry right afterwards and my foot broke through the boards making up the “dock” and I almost ended up in the river.

The ferry-crossing route, Central Highlands.

Looking back towards the ferry “dock”, Central Highlands.

Now we’re out of the Central Highlands and on our way to My Son.

Eron’s view from the lead bike, approaching My Son.

Water buffalo and Egrets, approaching My Son.

Riding through the rice paddies, approaching My Son.

Riding through the rice paddies 02, approaching My Son.

3km to My Son

We’ve reached the world cultural heritage site, My Son (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/M%E1%BB%B9_S%C6%A1n). Unlike the bustling Angkor Wat complex in neighbouring Cambodia, My Son is eerily subdued. Eron and I spent hours wandering through the site, including walking in and out of various buildings, and we only encountered less than a dozen people – that’s including tourists AND their guides. We were told to feel free to explore as we pleased… the only warning was that we were not to walk into the bush. According to the staff; during the American War, both sides honoured the historical significance of the site and neither side bombed or shelled it. However, the areas immediately adjacent to My Son were heavily booby-trapped with military-grade mines and various Improvised Explosive Devices (IED’s). Since the end of the war, the site itself has been cleared of all explosive ordinance but the areas just outside the site have not. This was one tourist attraction where you used the official toilet facilities… definitely no running out into the bush to use the “VC Toilet”.