And Twan raised his bicycle seat
I'm coming to the end of my current contract and have to move out of the house I've lived in for the past six months. This should not have been difficult since all my worldly possessions in Vietnam fit into half a dozen boxes. So Saturday morning I packed everything apart from the stuff I'm taking back to the UK for Christmas and one set of bedsheets then I called a Vietnamese colleague who had volunteered to help me move.
He arrived on his bicycle, actually a woman's bike but a modern design with semi-fat tyres and 28 gears.
The plan was simple, we would get a large taxi (people carrier to you) and load it with my six boxes and two bedside cabinets and take all my stuff to the store room at work until I find a new house in January. I needed my friend to explain where the taxi had to go - a narrow street which a big taxi can only access from one direction. I also needed him to stand on the pavement whilst I brought the boxes out so the recyclers didn't take them away as fast I as put them down.
The first bit went fine, I put the boxes in front of a four wheel drive which was parked in the lane blocking half it's width. My friend stood in the road looking for the taxi. On my fourth trip from the house he was on the phone - "taxi won't come in" he said. A heated debate followed after which it appeared the driver had agreed to come up the lane. A small taxi appeared and parked opposite the boxes reducing the width of the road at that point by two thirds. I went for the last box.
When I returned the big taxi had arrived and swung into a gateway to turn round. He almost reversed into the small taxi which decided to make space by pulling forward. The two drivers exchanged words then the small taxi drove even further down the road. I indicated to the driver that he should reverse up to the boxes, on the same side of the road as the 4x4. Instead he reversed on to the other side parking opposite the boxes and leaving enough space for two motorbikes to pass in between. We now had to get the boxes across the gap with motorbikes flying through sounding their horns.
At this point a small taxi appeared from behind us. No way could he get through the gap. I moved two of the bigger boxes which were causing the biggest obstruction and the small taxi driver eased his way into the gap. Two motorbikes coming the other way stopped to let him come through (unusual) but then a young woman drove her motorbike passed the other two and into the gap between the small taxi and the parked 4x4 (usual procedure). She couldn't get through and now neither could the taxi. The taxi was not giving way; the woman just looked confused and the horde of motorbikes either side of the blockage began to sound their horns in unison. In less than two minutes we had achieved total gridlock. I focused on getting the rest of my stuff in the taxi.
A man walking by told the young woman to get off her bike and he physically dragged it out of the way. The boxes gone the small taxi driver attempted to complete his manouver but before he could do so a young guy on a motorbike tried to get through the even smaller gap and gridlock was restored. We got in the big taxi and our driver eased away, getting maybe 10 metres before another motorbike drove up to his front bumper and looked puzzled by the fact that he couldn't go any further. Such is roadcraft in Vietnam.
The rest of the trip was uneventful, my belongings were stored and we headed back to the house. There was time to spare so I suggested a beer at my local bia hoi. I also suggested that as my friend coverted my bike maybe we could cycle together back to his house and he could use my bike and I would use his. This was a good idea. We got our bikes and cycled down to the Bia Hoi waking up the owner who was sleeping between the little tables. My friend invited another colleague to join us and we sat drinking bia whilst waiting for the arrival. This other guy lived about 15 minutes drive away, but it took him over an hour to arrive by which time a few beers had been consumed. We drank a couple more and my friend said it was time to go.
As we swopped bikes he asked if I would like to visit the new house he was building as well. Conscious of an evening dinnner date I asked him how far it was. He said "my house is 15 minutes from your house and my new house is 20 minutes from your house" I thought, ok an extra five minutes is doable. And we set off. After 20 metres he said to me "your saddle is too high". His bike had the typical Vietnamese configuration - saddle as low as possible so I was cycling with my knees round my ears. He contiued to complain until we got on the main road. Then, as we picked up speed, he looked at me with wonder and said "this is better!". By the time we reached his house he was enthusing. "I will raise my saddle, it is so much better!" And it was, he quickly learned to step off the saddle as the bike came to a halt, he saw the benefit of being able to see over the motorbikes and cars, he could go faster because he was using the full stretch of his legs.
He needed to go faster because he had meant to say that his new house was 20 minutes from his old house, so our journey was 35 minutes including obligatory stops for fruit at his old house and a grand tour of the new house which should be finished in a month.
I did make it for my dinner date, but as we separated and he disappeared off down another road I couldn't help but feel my major achievement of the day had been capacity building in the area of cycling technique.
He arrived on his bicycle, actually a woman's bike but a modern design with semi-fat tyres and 28 gears.
The plan was simple, we would get a large taxi (people carrier to you) and load it with my six boxes and two bedside cabinets and take all my stuff to the store room at work until I find a new house in January. I needed my friend to explain where the taxi had to go - a narrow street which a big taxi can only access from one direction. I also needed him to stand on the pavement whilst I brought the boxes out so the recyclers didn't take them away as fast I as put them down.
The first bit went fine, I put the boxes in front of a four wheel drive which was parked in the lane blocking half it's width. My friend stood in the road looking for the taxi. On my fourth trip from the house he was on the phone - "taxi won't come in" he said. A heated debate followed after which it appeared the driver had agreed to come up the lane. A small taxi appeared and parked opposite the boxes reducing the width of the road at that point by two thirds. I went for the last box.
When I returned the big taxi had arrived and swung into a gateway to turn round. He almost reversed into the small taxi which decided to make space by pulling forward. The two drivers exchanged words then the small taxi drove even further down the road. I indicated to the driver that he should reverse up to the boxes, on the same side of the road as the 4x4. Instead he reversed on to the other side parking opposite the boxes and leaving enough space for two motorbikes to pass in between. We now had to get the boxes across the gap with motorbikes flying through sounding their horns.
At this point a small taxi appeared from behind us. No way could he get through the gap. I moved two of the bigger boxes which were causing the biggest obstruction and the small taxi driver eased his way into the gap. Two motorbikes coming the other way stopped to let him come through (unusual) but then a young woman drove her motorbike passed the other two and into the gap between the small taxi and the parked 4x4 (usual procedure). She couldn't get through and now neither could the taxi. The taxi was not giving way; the woman just looked confused and the horde of motorbikes either side of the blockage began to sound their horns in unison. In less than two minutes we had achieved total gridlock. I focused on getting the rest of my stuff in the taxi.
A man walking by told the young woman to get off her bike and he physically dragged it out of the way. The boxes gone the small taxi driver attempted to complete his manouver but before he could do so a young guy on a motorbike tried to get through the even smaller gap and gridlock was restored. We got in the big taxi and our driver eased away, getting maybe 10 metres before another motorbike drove up to his front bumper and looked puzzled by the fact that he couldn't go any further. Such is roadcraft in Vietnam.
The rest of the trip was uneventful, my belongings were stored and we headed back to the house. There was time to spare so I suggested a beer at my local bia hoi. I also suggested that as my friend coverted my bike maybe we could cycle together back to his house and he could use my bike and I would use his. This was a good idea. We got our bikes and cycled down to the Bia Hoi waking up the owner who was sleeping between the little tables. My friend invited another colleague to join us and we sat drinking bia whilst waiting for the arrival. This other guy lived about 15 minutes drive away, but it took him over an hour to arrive by which time a few beers had been consumed. We drank a couple more and my friend said it was time to go.
As we swopped bikes he asked if I would like to visit the new house he was building as well. Conscious of an evening dinnner date I asked him how far it was. He said "my house is 15 minutes from your house and my new house is 20 minutes from your house" I thought, ok an extra five minutes is doable. And we set off. After 20 metres he said to me "your saddle is too high". His bike had the typical Vietnamese configuration - saddle as low as possible so I was cycling with my knees round my ears. He contiued to complain until we got on the main road. Then, as we picked up speed, he looked at me with wonder and said "this is better!". By the time we reached his house he was enthusing. "I will raise my saddle, it is so much better!" And it was, he quickly learned to step off the saddle as the bike came to a halt, he saw the benefit of being able to see over the motorbikes and cars, he could go faster because he was using the full stretch of his legs.
He needed to go faster because he had meant to say that his new house was 20 minutes from his old house, so our journey was 35 minutes including obligatory stops for fruit at his old house and a grand tour of the new house which should be finished in a month.
I did make it for my dinner date, but as we separated and he disappeared off down another road I couldn't help but feel my major achievement of the day had been capacity building in the area of cycling technique.
posted by Marvin.. at Sunday, December 14, 2008
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