Roughly 20km outside of Halong, the heavens opened and I got caught in the mother of all downpours. The rain lasted for near enough the whole journey and I arrived Hanoi looking and feeling like a bit of a drowned rat. Although everything was soaked right through, spirits weren't dampened and it was a great, albeit slightly emotional, final journey. Just as the case has been for the last four weeks, the bike kept on going, despite Mother Nature throwing everything it had at us. Once again, it took me a lifetime to find the hostel, tucked down a side street, off a one-way road. Like most capital cities, the traffic here is hectic and hard to negotiate. Hanoi's however, is probably the most chaotic I've ever experienced and I'm quite glad that I didn't start my trip here as I'm not sure I would have made it out alive without any previous biking experience.

Unfortunately I haven't had the chance to get to know this city very well. A combination of a fast expiring visa, torrential rain and obviously, a bike to sell, has meant time for exploring has been hard to find. But from the bits I have seen, it feels like raw Vietnam and I like it. It's a contrast to Saigon and I've certainly noticed a change between the cosmopolitan South and the traditional North. From what I remember, the South was clean, liberal and in the process of modernising. The North seems to be staying truer to itself and its roots, and it's easy to picture it as the home of the Viet Cong. There are Vietnamese and communist flags all over the northern towns and cities- along the sides of roads, above shops and homes. There's also a noticeable amount of statues depicting soldiers and workers of the communist regime. It's the 'untouristy', take it or leave it attitude that seems to be most prevalent here- the kind of roguish charm I've grown to admire.
There's one particular example that has stuck in my mind the most- in Saigon, I would occasionally see a dog on a spit roast or a couple of dogs in cages being taken to a restaurant. Eye-opening enough but people would often try to hide it or tell you it's a pig. Here, in Hanoi, the are no such pretences. There are trailers filled with dogs and restaurants that only serve dog. Barbecued dogs stacked up, ready for the hot plate.

And my bike....well where can I start? It's been my partner-in-crime for the entire trip and taken me to places that I never thought I'd see. Before I came to Vietnam, I was apprehensive about biking. I'd never driven a bike before and I'd certainly never driven in Asia before. I never knew how good a motorbike tour could be but its exceeded all my expectations and more. I wouldn't have wanted to travel Vietnam any other way. I had previously heard a lot of horror stories about peoples bikes going wrong, trouble with the Vietnamese police and people getting lost in the middle of nowhere. An endless number of travellers tales that luckily, never became apparent for me. Instead, with a few minor repairs and a few near misses, I've travelled around 4000km and had an experience that I will remember for lifetime.
I thought I would leave this until I had actually completed my journey, in fear of jinxing it but it started in Phnom Penh, Cambodia. I met a Bosnian guy there, who had just completed his North-South Vietnamese motorbike tour and over a beer, told me his theory on traveller-bikers. He said, like a cat, we get 9 lives, 9 near misses and on your 10th, that was your last chance. It's only now that I can see some truth in what he said and I'm leaving Vietnam on my 5th chance. I feel leaving now, with 4 near misses left, is an appropriate time to finish my adventure.
This morning I sold my beloved bike which means this leg of the trip is officially over. It also means I had to book my bus to Laos- a 24 hour journey with a 3 hour border crossing. Having spent the last 4 weeks on a bike, with ultimate freedom, I'm dreading getting on a bus this evening.

Vietnam has been an absolute pleasure. I've made a lot of good friends and a lot of memories. Ones that I will look back on fondly when I'm tabbing across the Brecon Beacons, in the freezing rain, or being relentlessly marched around the Sandhurst parade square next year.