Cat Tien National Park (1/3/14)

As usual I wanted to get away early today to get most of the journeying done in the morning. I had previously been advised by Liam at Hanoi motorcycles to ride to Mui Ne after Dalat, but after chatting with a few people about Mui Ne I had decided against it. I’d been told that there wasn't much beach there and the small amount there was had been taken up by all the resorts along the coast so to get to the beach you had to be staying at one of the resorts. I had read there are some amazing sand dunes at Mui Ne to see and you could also race various vehicles (and animals!) there but I worked out I probably wouldn't have enough time to visit them anyway as I needed to get to Ho Chi Minh in plenty of time to sell the bike. Also I’d been told it was ridiculously windy at Mui Ne which is great if you want to try wind or kite surfing but again I wouldn't have time. The adrenaline bits would have to wait for another trip, or NZ if I can afford them there. So all in all Mui Ne was out, and I decided Cat Tien National Park was in as it lay halfway between Dalat and HCM and was a direct route. I tried contacting the Hotel at the National Park to book a room for the night but all my attempts failed and I decided to ride there and sort something once there. So I left my hotel about 8am and started my journey. I did my usual of checking Google maps every now and then at junctions and making sure the milestones said the right road numbers but Google maps wanted to take me on a highway at one point, that the road signs said bikes couldn't go on, and the bikes were arrowed a different way. This road seemed to parallel the highway but I'm pretty sure it wasn't as good condition. Although this was literally the only other road along this route and therefore very well used it seemed no-one had bothered to spend the time sorting it. Tarmac, yes, steamroller used, no. The tarmac had been laid and levelled by one man with a garden trowel many years ago. The vibrations through the bike were ridiculous. And when a brand new stretch of tarmac had been placed down it had simply been put over the old and the joint between the two pieces was just a sudden convex curved rise in the road about 10cm in height. So my front suspension got a hammering. As a result my exhaust tail pipe lost a mounting bolt and then snapped at the joint to the front pipe so was resting on my centre stand. But I didn't notice this till I stopped for fuel and wondered what was forcing my centre stand down to the ground. After refuelling I poodled along at the side of the road till I found a garage and pulled in. Without needing to say a word the mechanic nodded, rummaged through his bolt box, re-secured my exhaust and reached for his welder. 10 minutes and 60p later I was back on the road. Magic. My route soon re-joined the highway and after checking my phone at various points through one town I was soon on the road to Cat Tien National Park. Queue the road resurfacing plans taking place on this route. And this time I mean resurfacing. When resurfacing, the Vietnamese way is to completely remove all previous layers  along a complete stretch of road, and then replace that stretch in patches. Not one side then the other, just patches. And they don’t close the road either. So you’re riding amongst the vehicles. In this instance it was about 20 km so should have taken about half an hour normally. But this took me 3 times that because the vibrations through the bike were crippling. By the time I’d got about half way the whole front dash surround on my bike was held on by one screw. The rest had vibrated loose. And where a new cement road had been laid there was a 5 inch step to get the bike up to use it, and this whilst avoiding the steel rods that were poking out the front of the step that run through the road to strengthen the cement. Just a nightmare. About a mile from the park the road became pristine, freshly laid tarmac. So new it was still sticky. I think I was the first to ride on it. A journey of complete extremes! As I approached the park I realised my route was blocked by a massive river, on the other side of which I had to assume was the National park. The hotel was on the other side but I had passed a few guest houses on the way and thought I’d better choose one of these for ease. Opening my lonely planet for some suggestions I found only one suggested place to stay and upon calling found it was fully booked. Surprise! They did suggest another place to stay, a friend of theirs, right next to the park entrance where I was. I rode up the dirt track to the entrance of this suggestion and a girl came to open the gate. She asked if I had a reservation to which I said no, fearing this would be my downfall. She told me to wait and phoned her brother who’s English was much better. Once he arrived he said he only had about 7 people staying already and had room and it wouldn't be a problem for me to stay. Phew! Cost…420,000 VND, about 13 quid. A bit more than usual but the setting was beautiful. He took me to my room. It was a bamboo hut covered in bamboo leaves for waterproofing and privacy, with shower and toilet built in, and two double beds with mosquito nets to suit. This was a real jungle getaway. A few metres away was a platform that overhung the river complete with hammocks, and chairs and tables, also made from bamboo, on which to enjoy a nice cold beer. The wildlife was alive with sound. This was definitely a place to remember and to come back to for a longer stay some other time. I got my belongings into the room and went back to the entrance to fill out the paperwork that all visitors need to. I then ordered my late lunch, vegetables with fried rice, and a beer. By the time I’d finished that it was about half 3 and so still had time to take a boat over to the National Park and visit a few of the sights before dinner. I got some bits together like water, camera, snacks, phone and a head torch (just in case) and walked back down the dirt track to the boat ticket office. I found out the last boat back was at 8pm which gave me plenty of time to explore the Park. The boat took a while to leave as it was waiting for more people to make the journey worthwhile. A group turned up after a while who looked like they were staying at the hotel as they had suitcases. One of the group members was particularly intriguing. It was an, I think, Vietnamese bloke wearing Hugh Heffner style pyjamas which were turquoise with dark blue dots on them. And they were too small. The trousers swung around his shins and the sleeves somewhere between his elbow and wrists. This was odd enough but he was also wearing a white motorbike helmet with no sign of a motorbike. And the laughable thing is that no one seemed to bat an eyelid. It all seemed perfectly normal. Of course we all know that appropriate daily attire is a pair of silk pj’s with motorbike helmet. I stifled my laugh but this made it harder, I still had tears in my eyes. I had to look out the boat for the entire crossing to stop myself sniggering and to hide the corners of my mouth curling up. I wish to god I could have taken a photo but it would have been too obvious. The helmet stayed on the entire time! Once on the other side I went straight to the information centre to find out what I had time to walk to before dark and to get a map. It was now 4pm and I found out that I would be able to visit the rapids on the river and the giant ancient tung trees on the way. So I set off. The path to the tung trees left the main concrete track and wound its way into the forest. I followed it but soon arrived at a fork that wasn't indicated on my map. Hmmmmmm. Ok I’ll risk the left fork. Fortunately this was the right one and I soon discovered the giant trees. To be fair you couldn't really miss them! They were indeed giant. The air was so hot and humid and the wildlife buzzed around me, it was almost deafening. There was tweeting, buzzing, clicking, an alarm. Yes, one of the unknown animals sounded like a constant alarm. But I couldn't see a single one. I’ll try and upload a couple of sound clips. After a few photos I continued along the path further into the forest. According to the map the path was supposed to loop back round towards the main concrete track but it didn't feel like it was. After a long amount of time I was starting to get a little worried I’d gone the wrong way but soon burst out onto the main track and breathed a sigh of relief. I headed along the track towards the rapids but saw a sign for some botanical gardens off to one side which I thought could be worth a look. Worst case scenario I would be between the main track and the river and could turn either way to get to one of them should I need to. The path was paved and so followed it very easily. But I came across a sign on a tree that said do not enter between midnight and 6am. I decided I wasn't there between these times and my curiosity got the better of me. Against my better judgement I left the paved walkway to follow a track through the forest hoping to see some wildlife. The track was fine, meandering here and there, and at times I could hear the rapids off to my right hand side. This sound spurred me on expecting to find a path going across my route directly down to the river, but none came. From the entrance the rapids were 6km away. So at a fast pace they could be reached within an hour and a half easily. I’d been walking for this long already. And then the path stopped. It just disappeared and my plan for heading one way or the other to the river or main track was impossible because the forest was so dense. I fought my way through the undergrowth and found another path, thank god. But then that one disappeared. There was no sign of anything. It was now starting to get dark in the dense forest. I could hear the rapids but couldn't see anything through the trees. I fought on none the less picking the clearest route possible and trying to keep up a good pace and finally pushed through some bushes out onto a wide mud path with tyre tracks. Deep sigh of relief and time for water and a snack. That’s it I'm not leaving the main path again. Up ahead was a sign for the rapids and so I made my way to them. To be honest they were entirely underwhelming for the effort required to get there but took photos anyway. I’d only seen one couple the whole time I’d been in the park and wondered how many people had got lost in its history. It was now about 6pm and with the light fading rapidly I started my journey back. I stuck to the main mud track which soon joined the original concrete track that I’d started my walk on. I passed a hotel on the way back and stopped in to get some water as I’d run out and got chatting to the Vietnamese woman behind the bar. Her English was good and she said my accent sounded British. I told her I was from London and she asked which part. As it turns out she lived in Beaconsfield for a number of years and knew exactly where Harrow was. Unbelievable! After my surprising discussion I left and continued to the Park entrance. I arrived at 7pm just in time to see the boat disappearing back to the other shore. I am DEFINITELY being filmed! Not wanting to shout and disturb the wildlife I elected to flash my head torch at the boat in the hope the driver would turn round and see it as it was now dark. It only bloody worked!!!!! I did wonder how else I’d have got a lift across if the boat was already on the other side. He slowed the boat, cut the engine and shouted “You want lift”, “yes please” I replied relieved. I was soon heading back to the other shore looking forward to my dinner. It had certainly been an adventure in the Park. Once back I dropped my stuff off to the room and went to the lodge entrance to get some food.  There were 3 other people already sitting there and so I got chatting to them. It turned out they were doing the opposite route to mine and so we exchanged stories about things we’d seen. The group consisted of one French girl, one German bloke and one Scottish bloke. No not the start of a joke. They were all about 20 and had met in Australia whilst travelling. We spent the rest of the evening chatting on the river deck over beers and I showed them on a map the route I’d taken and the things I’d seen that weren't in the lonely planet, which they were grateful for. But after what felt like a very long day I called it a night and headed to bed.