Ninh Hoa, technically a little short of my goal for the week, but at 500 km amidst some technical equipment distractions has been an excellent place to stop in for my rest day, and my first helping hand from a business here in Vietnam to support my charity cycle tour for Cancer.ca. Thank you Khiem, your Hoang Son motel has been an excellent place for a rest day.

Along the way down here from Da Nang, a few things have stuck out in my mind amidst the mountain views, long drawn out horizon much like our prairies, and how much better a day feels when you outrun the rain.

There is still danger on this holiday, and it was very apparent lately.

Riding on flat road once again, after having pushed my bike up a series of mountainous grades, breathing in a different atmosphere and perspective up on the top of jungle high ground, I was once again a fair distance from the small town population of a fishing community. Rain soaked and well irrigated rice fields were squared off in sections like shallow swimming pools and for miles out of sight, and quartered by motorcycle trails a couple of feet wide which had somehow kept their dry and dusty appearance.

Off in the distance I could see a group of people  moving about, in a manner of activity that seemed unusual to the behaviour of reserved farm hands. As I arrived closer and closer, the energy level appeared to disappear and life was once again back to normal. I saw on the road, a pale green rope that could’ve passed for a skinned sapling if it hadn’t had several curvatures alone it’s length. I decided to slow down and stop for a bit of water, the people had spilled out over the right hand lane due to the previous commotion and I wanted to let the traffic pass by.

Xin Chao, as I greeted so many other groups, where I could feel people looking at me, with a wave and a smile completing the trifecta. Only this time it wasn’t my beard of my bike they were interested in.

Code-rah, Code-rah. A man exclaimed casually, as he pointed to the ground where the skinned sapling was laying on the road. It had me startled for a second. Mostly because this wasn’t a stick, but also because the farm hand wasn’t saying Code-rah, but Cobra.

I felt my eyes open widely, and suddenly life became serious if only for a minute. This decapitated snake was a ball park ten feet long, overturned so that its pale underside was now exposed. Thin, narrow scales on its belly were sharply outlined and segmented for it’s entire ten foot length and it appeared a fully grown adult, due to the thickness along its midsection.

The Honeymoon was over for the rest of the day, that scene is still fresh in my mind even now. How would I react if I’d ran that thing over when it was still alive and my tires kicked it up into my lap? I’m in territory that doesn’t belong to me, and that I’m very unfamiliar with, until now I had no thought to danger outside of traffic or losing my passport.

I don’t go off the beaten path too much, and I play it safe. But all the precautions in the world can’t save you all the time, you can only do what you can do.

In other news, I met another cyclist, Anna, from Germany. She will stick mostly to this part of Asia including Cambodia and Laos, Thailand perhaps? We met on the road and rode through the dark a few hours and stayed at possibly the nicest and most affordable hotel in the known world. Pho and a couple more friends for a late evening toast that night wrapped the adventure up nicely. Met up again down the road in Qui Nhon for a seaside get together and I’m now ahead of her by some 90km. Good luck to you Anna, enjoy your adventure.

One thing I didn’t expect, and that I’m used to now, is sharing nearly every hotel room with a Gecko or two. These guys seem to be everywhere, and are harmless, good thing. How they stick to the ceiling when some of these rooms are already quite damp is impressive.

Just another reason to appreciate being somewhere different with different rules and new perspectives on what you need, want, and can live without.