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Our itinerary says that today's ride is split into two contrasting sections. So we start with a boat trip to the floating market at Cai Rang. This is a wholesale market where people come to get supplies to sell in their village. Larger boats are drawn up in the river selling mostly fruit - mangoes, pineapples, guava, watermelons, jackfruit (looks a bit like a large slug with goose pimples. Tastes better I assume. Slug is one of the few creatures we have not been offered here. Yet.), bananas; but also garlic and onions. The fruit here is gorgeous - really tasty. Especially the mangoes that are currently in season. Smaller boats from the villages are piled high with bags of various produce - piled so high that they look as if they are sinking. For the first time since leaving Saigon we see some other Westerners, but we will see no more again after this.
After leaving the market, we go to the house of the snake wine man. The Vietnamese consider snake wine a great delicacy and recipes are held as family secrets. Apparently the snakes have to be venomous - the more so, the better the taste. The wine is made by steeping the snake (or snakes) in rice wine, together with medicinal herbs and other animals, such as scorpions and/or birds, and left to mature for at least a year. It is drunk in small shots and tastes more like a liqueur. Needless to say it is supposed to be very good for you, curing everything from farsightedness to hair loss. It is also known as the 'Vietnamese Viagra' and it was this aspect that the maker, a man of 77, concentrated on, using several graphic gestures to indicate that Kate and I would have a good time tonight.
Maybe we will, but first we have to cycle 60 or so kilometres. The morning is very similar to yesterday and after a couple of hours we reach our lunch stop. A lovely dish with beef, rice noodles, herbs and garlic. The food in Vietnam has been very good. Varied fresh ingredients and always prepared to order. After the beef, we have durian. Known as the 'King of Fruits', and the most expensive of locally produced fruits, it is best known for its smell. Described as a mix of almonds, rotten onions, turps and sweaty socks. It's so bad that it is banned from scheduled air flights and many hotel rooms. The flesh, by contrast, tastes of custard with a strong hint of almond. Anthony Burgess said that eating durian is like "eating sweet raspberry blancmange in the lavatory." Actually, the one we had didn't smell that bad and the taste, whilst pleasant, wasn't indescribably good, as many people say it is.
Then it was back on our bikes and we set off, cycling along the riverbank. The river is many things to the people here: bathroom, laundry, larder, market, road, and playground. This afternoon we cycled right alongside for the whole time but wherever we've been, the river is never far away.
The mud came shortly after lunch when we came across a stretch where it had been raining and the consequent mire was made worse by dredging from the river being dumped on the riverbank. Before long, we were slipping and sliding, getting muddier and muddier to the point where it became almost impossible to ride our bikes. Just like mountain biking in Northumberland!
Eventually we made it on to dry land and continued through a much more remote area. We were cycling along a narrow riverbank through villages where the only brick structure is the local school, if there is one. On one side is the river and on the other iridescent green rice fields stretching to the horizon. Huge storm clouds gathered overhead and there were ominous rumbles of thunder. However, the rain held off and we reached a small town where we were able to get our bikes, and ourselves, hosed down.
Continuing on we now had the strengthening wind behind us. After a short river crossing we flew down the centre street of a small town. All day people had been calling out hello to us but here it seemed as if the whole town was lining the street waving and shouting. It was just like the 'Tour de France'. At the end of the street I saw a new combined harvester proudly parked on someone's front drive.
After 35 kilometres, we met up with the minibus. After a much-needed drink, we drove to our hotel, the Hoa Binh 1 Hotel in Long Xuyen. It turns out this is run by the Vietnamese Army (the Military Command of An Giang province to be precise). You can tell its run by the Army because alongside all the usual toiletries in the bathroom is a small tin of shoe polish. We climbed out of the minibus, sweaty and muddy in our cycling gear right into the middle of a large wedding party. Whilst the immaculately dressed bellhops did not bat an eyelid at our appearance, several of the wedding guest looked at us askance. I don't think we'll be getting an invite to the disco later tonight.
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