Someone we met told us that if you don’t have a motorbike in Saigon you don’t exist so we have finally joined the ranks of the living and got ourselves some transport. Last week I went off in search of a bicycle; with the memory of forgetting which pedal was which on a quad bike and subsequently finding myself underneath it I decided that pedal power was probably my best option. Finding the sprawling bike shop was easy by taxi and the purchase of a slim green push bike went smoothly. As the little basket was attached, money exchanged and the vehicle placed under my supervision I realised that I would now have to get it and me home. Standing on the side of the road, looking at the bikes pouring by in the direction I wanted on the opposite side I wwas distracted by the constant stream of traffic flowing past me, barring my way. As the Vietnamese shop owners and Tim looked on nervously I got on and did what all sense told me not to do, I pushed my bike directly into the oncoming traffic. Surprisingly no horns were sounded in alarm, no shouts of horror at my actions were heard and feeling like Moses I parted the sea of motorbikes and wobbled off in the direction of home, leaving Tim to wonder how he was going to pay the rent on his own.
Despite how chaotic the driving style the Vietnamese favour seems from an outsider’s perspective once you are in the traffic it all begins to make sense. There are two rules that should be remembered to survive on the roads of Siagon:
1 – know your place. There is a distinct hierarchy that should be abided by and depending where your chosen mode of transport comes you need to get out of the way of those above you in the pecking order. Bicycles land firmly at the bottom of the pack, with only despicable pedestrians below them, and so should be prepared to get out of the way of anything moving faster than they are. Motorbikes in their vast numbers come next followed by the irratic, bordering on insane, driving of the taxi drivers and if anyone hears the blast of a bus horn they should get out of the way pretty quickly, this is especially convincing if the bus is careering toward you down the wrong side of the road, happily beeping its horn at all in its path.
Once I was riding along in the right direction the joys of travelling in Siagon burst upon me. The sun was shining and it soon dawned on me that riding a bike gives you permission to traverse the city as if it were a stage of a computer game. If there is too much traffic in your way it is perfectly acceptable to drive on the pavements, pedestrians are fools if they think that pavements are designed for walking upon and if you feel like the right hand side of the road is not for you on a particular day then there you should feel no compunction to drive on it, despite the majority of others doing so.
My presence on a bicycle caused much hilarity as it was obvious that I was old enough to drive a motorbike and I was clearly a Westerner so I could afford one so my decision held much confusion for the locals and for some bizarre reason this translated into random shouts of ‘Oh my god’ in my face as I was peacefully cycling about.
Following my cycling success Tim plunged into the deep end head first and rented himself a shiny motorbike. Following some tentative and stuttering starts he was soon singing ‘get your motor running’ at the top of his lungs and plunging into the traffic without concern for etiquette with the best of them. Our first stop was to purchase helmets. As previous form would have suggested Tim opted for a cheap option, one of the few that didn’t make him look like he was wearing a space helmet, while I, feeling more safety conscious, have ended up looking like I’m riding on the special bus.
So our adventures continue, now a little bit more speedily. I am psyching myself up for my first jaunt out on the motorbike. Tim and I both thinks its best that this experiment takes place in the dead of night when there will be fewer innocent by-standers.
xx
PS. We have purchased masks to protect us from the developing countries emissions but think we may be taking our protection a little too seriously.
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