Northern Vietnam by Bicycle | Ho Chi Minh Trail to Ha Giang

In the coming days we are cycling the legendary Ho Chi Minh Trail along the Vietnamese-Cambodian border. After barely surviving an extraordinary heatwave, with reel-feel temperatures topping 50°C, we are back on our saddles and excited about the great adventures ahead. Expect mind-blowing limestone karst galore, rice, and a visit to the underworld! Riding another 800 kms we will explore Northern Vietnam, through super remote corners, the capital and all the way to Ha Giang in the  mountains up at the border with China,   where something really bad  happens to Mathias, but first: 17,000! That's a lot of cycling. 17,000 kilometers. Not bad, huh?  Well, my butt says otherwise, but… That distance is actually like cycling from  Germany to South Korea, our minimal goal,   and then back. At least had we  cycled in a straight line. Since we took a little detour here and there,  especially throughout South East Asia,   we are not quite there yet, but what  could possibly stop us at this point?  Oh, look at this!

Hello. Hello! Whoa… *Woman speaking Vietnamese* We enjoy the hands-on mentality of Vietnamese people. They are not too shy to say what they need. It’s early May, the start of the rainy season. Farmers lay their freshly harvested rice on these large blue and orange tarps using half, sometimes even the whole road. It started raining, so they needed to cover  the rice that had been drying on the street.  Apparently this family’s rice  is dry enough for storage.  We fill a total of ten 50 kilo bags, roughly half a metric ton total.  What we're helping bag isn't the white  rice you know — it's paddy rice. It’s straight off the plant, dried but  not yet ready for consumption. The next step is milling, but with the husk  still intact, paddy stores very well.  Half a ton paddy needs about 0.2 acres or roughly the size of two basketball courts to grow.

With two harvests a year that  does feed their whole family.  Farming rice is an extremely tough and labour  intensive process with countless steps.  Today an estimated 65% of rural households  still engage in rice paddy planting.  The whole street was quite frantically  busy getting the rice off the road.  We came at the perfect time for this family,  and they were so happy that we helped. Yes, it was a lot of fun. Following the Son river we close  in on a massive geological marvel.  Until now Mathias had always declined  visiting any caves along our way,  but that is about to change. Ahead of us lies one if not the world’s most impressive limestone karst systems, with well over 300 caves and grottos, among them the largest cave on earth, literally the gates to the underworld. Today we had a very easy ride.  But for the first time, we  were on the Ho Chi Minh Trail.

The following morning, to get to the cave of  our choosing we have to cross the river first.  Most people choose the relaxed boat trip through  the Phong Nha cave, just around the corner.  Given the funds one can also explore Son Doong Cave, the largest cave in the world, by volume. We take the much more budget  friendly option, the Paradise cave.  This is great, as I love nothing more  than cycling on our off-day as well!  Thank you. However, crossing the river quickly pays off. It’s very interesting. We are so close to a major tourist hotspot. But because most people take a boat or bus to the caves, the people here behave differently. Hello! Hello!  There is a massive difference between being  treated like a tourist or a traveller,   a business opportunity or a person.

To experience the latter you have to wander off the beaten path. The further the better. This almost feels like an equation: Added inconvenience or even discomfort equals  genuine interactions and meaningful experiences.  Here, a mere kilometre from the touristic town, the kids are still excited to see us, meaning we chose the right path. Oh my gosh, this is so beautiful! People so often asked us why on  earth we decided to do what we do.  Well, there are countless reasons of course, but this is as good as any. Look at this. This is the way. I mean, this is just the way to the Paradise cave, but it is magnificent and it keeps getting better! This is a traditional way to clean the rice. Because of gravity, the rice will fall faster, and the lighter stuff will stay on the top so she can scoop it out. This is the step right before  bagging the paddy rice, like the day before.

This is how they did it for hundreds, or rather thousands of years. It’s called winnowing and it’s how farmers separate the heavy, valuable rice grains from the lighter junk left after threshing. It might look casual, but it is a crucial quality‑control step. Getting rid of chaff and trash means less moisture, less mold, fewer insects, smoother milling, and more of the harvest turning into actual  food instead of ruined sacks of rice. Even with the help of modern machinery, rice  cultivation is still incredibly labor intensive.  The average European wheat farmer spends about 24  minutes in his tractor to make 1 million calories.  To produce the same amount of calories worth of rice 100 times more human labor is necessary on average in Vietnam. What you see here is probably mostly manual, resulting in 80-ish back breaking  hours spent per 1 million calories, or 200 times more human labor. Now, just think for a moment: How many minutes do you need to work to buy  one kilogram of rice in your local supermarket?

Look where you’re going.  Oh my gosh. Beautiful! Soon after the structural integrity  of the bridge’s open grid decking  had us slightly worried we reach the modern Ho Chi Minh Highway. The coming days we will follow this spectacular road north, but first the paradise cave. What you see here is easily  one of the most exceptional   limestone karst landscapes of our planet. Protected as Phong Nha–Ke Bang National Park it is a UNESCO World Heritage Site  recognized for its outstanding geology. These spectacular mountains and valleys were carved over more than 400 million years, making this also Asia’s oldest  large-scale karst region. Cycling up the Son river valley  our breath becomes heavy, and not just from the  ridiculous heat and humidity.

Looking at this really adds some perspective. But if you think this is as good as it gets, wait until we get underground! Karst might look like solid stone, but it’s really the result of a very slow, very patient chemistry experiment: slightly acidic rainwater and river water seep into the limestone, dissolving it grain by grain and widening the  tiniest cracks into tunnels, caves, and canyons, over the span of millions of years. In a tropical karst where warm, wet conditions feed lush forest and high levels of carbon dioxide in the soil, this dissolution runs on turbo mode, creating the steep cliffs, collapsed valleys, and vast underground rivers that now weave through more than 200 kms of caves beneath our wheels. After Mathias tried to dry his t-shirt, we finally made it to the entrance. Let’s go! As we tiptoe down the wet wooden staircase, the world as we knew it comes to a halt and a surreal reality takes over.

The air changes gear. It’s suddenly cool, thick and perfectly still, like walking into nature’s own air‑conditioning. It smells of damp rock and wet timber and just enough cave‑funk to remind us that this  place has been here for a long time. The Paradise Cave stretches for over 31 kms inside the mountain, with chambers soaring up to about 70 meters  high and galleries as wide as 150 meters. It is Asia’s longest dry cave. We walk the first kilometer on a wooden boardwalk suspended above the cave floor, winding between stone columns and frozen cascades of limestone. We are alone most of the time, which only  intensifies the otherworldly feeling. Carefully placed lights reveal the  formations without killing the darkness,   picking out towers, curtains, and terraces while the rest disappears into shadow, as if most of the cave is  still keeping its secrets.

Above us, stalactites drip from the  ceiling in needles and thick curtains; below, stalagmites rise to meet them, building  pillars, organ pipes and stone skylines that look like intricate palaces and deliberately  planned cities rather than random geology. I have a near‑spiritual experience while wrapping my head around the fact that nobody designed this. Just rinse and repeat for  millions of years, drip by drip. No architects, no CAD, no concrete trucks… just slightly acidic water, physics, chance, and more time than our brains can handle. What a beautiful day.

The cave was beautiful, and mysterious: I felt like I was in a fairy tale. And for a change, it was also very cool inside the cave, so I was even freezing a little bit. Not the case right now. Today we're leaving Phong Nha. We are on the QL15 highway, better known as the Ho Chi Minh path. And it was of course called the Ho Chi Minh Trail! A web of jungle paths and rough roads running from North Vietnam through the mountains and deep into Laos and Cambodia, then back into South Vietnam to move soldiers, weapons, and other supplies during the Vietnam War. It’s considered one of the great feats of military logistics and engineering of the 20th century.

Today’s modern paved highway roughly follows parts of that network through the mountains of western Vietnam. Accordingly for the coming days we will ride against  the stunning backdrop of the Annamite range. Beautiful. So today we're following this road. There's a mountain pass ahead of us. I think it's a 700-meter climb, which might be a little bit tough because it will be quite hot when we reach it. But what can you do? Well, for the moment enjoy the view. 35 kms in that direction begins Laos and we’re only 20 kilometres from the coast, riding still pretty much at sea-level. Then the jungle road suddenly  flattens out into a suspiciously wide, two‑kilometre straightaway of solid concrete.

Today it’s just a quiet segment of the Ho Chi Minh Highway, but back in the early seventies  this valley had a very different job: under cover of darkness, workers poured  and levelled the concrete by hand. By day, they meticulously camouflaged  the fresh concrete with jungle foliage to blind overhead reconnaissance. Nearby caves served as bomb-proof hangars, keeping North Vietnamese MiG-17s safe  and surprisingly close to the frontline. On April 19, 1972, two jets starting here caught the US Seventh Fleet off guard, scoring a direct bomb hit on the destroyer USS Higbee. The first successful air attack of an US warship since WW2. On any other day I would love to spend some time  exploring this piece of history a little further, but I suddenly have some other  explosive matters to deal with. This is shit. Diarrhea in Vietnam, check. From then on roughly every 15 minutes later… Not exactly what one needs while climbing a mountain, but… At least I got a view.

Oh, that is so beautiful. Amazing. I think this is the quietest  road we've been on in Vietnam. We only hear the animals in the forest. Actually, no surprise. While the Annamite range looks spectacularly lush, it is a sparsely populated and cumbersome terrain, even or maybe especially so today. During the Vietnam War the US dropped between 2 and 3 million tons of explosives in these mountains to disrupt the Ho Chi Minh trail. That is roughly the total tonnage dropped during the entirety of WW II, both in Europe and the Pacific! However, the Ho Chi Minh Trail wasn’t a single road. It was an evershifting, 16.000 km maze-like web of dirt tracks, submerged bridges, mountain passes and cave networks. But not only the bombs were lethal: in the early years, as many as 10% of  porters reportedly died of disease, while hunger, sickness, floods, and harsh  jungle conditions were also major killers.

Around thirty thousand logistics workers died,  most of them teenage girls and young women. Stationed at high-risk choke points,  the Youth Pioneers defused ordnance,  

guided trucks through the night and filled bomb  craters by hand under the relentless aerial siege.  At Da Deo mountain pass this monument states that it was a key area of US bombardments from 1965 to 1972. I am glad to have made it to the top. Climbing in this climate takes an extra toll, especially with diarrhoea! However, it makes it a bit easier to imagine  the hardships of the Ho Chi Minh Trail and makes us even more appreciative  of the descent into the next valley. Often overlooked, over ninety thousand civilians were caught in the crossfire of carpet-bombing the North Vietnamese supply  routes, mostly Laotians and Cambodians.

They get killed and maimed until today. Some 50 years later, the lush rainforest managed to cover the superficial scars of war. During that time unexploded ordnance resulted in at least 185,000 additional casualties, many of them children. Today the landscape feels incredibly peaceful and innocent. The road surface is smooth  and there is virtually no traffic. If riding on quiet roads surrounded by nature is your thing, you might want to give this a try. Just keep in mind that along parts  of the modern Ho Chi Minh Highway, UXO can still be a danger, especially in areas close to the old trail. Stay on marked roads, follow local warnings, don’t pick up or move strange metal objects, don’t dig or wander off-road in unfamiliar areas, and never assume a crater or old shell harmless. It was a beautiful day on the Ho Chi Minh Road.

It was maybe the most beautiful road we've had in all of Southeast Asia. We just reached this guesthouse. Arev was even lucky enough to get a  massage for her shoulders and legs… A pretty good one apparently. Wonderful! As we are riding north the landscape is gradually changing.  To our surprise, we continue to  spot churches in many villages.  The backcountry appears  noticeably poorer than the coast  and we see very few young people. Some of the villages feel a bit deserted and we miss the abundant roadside eateries. When we reach a new valley there’s a bit of traffic again and suddenly... Oh well, oh well. I guess it’s raining!

The following day we decide to leave the HCM. Heading back towards the coast saves us two days of riding towards Hanoi,  where we have to take care of important stuff. While slightly further south the rice harvest is already done it is still in full swing around here. By the way: Cycling in the rainy season doesn’t seem as bad as we thought. Of course, every day we are washed down properly. It’s like the heavens open the floodgates… Waiting for the rain to end. But after just 15 to 30  minutes it is usually over.  Even though the humidity is through the roof, the cloud coverage and evaporation helps manage the heat. Or am I slowly getting used to it? Closing in on the coast everything gets a lot more lively again. The hoards of schoolchildren on the streets around noon is due to the split-school system.

Half of the kids attend the school in the morning and the other half in the afternoon. We love meeting them, as they always greet us enthusiastically. What’s your name? Oh!  I guess right. I am not sure if I am on the right route right now.

I need to check the map. No. This doesn't seem right. Hello! *Vietnamese* Uh, no. Okay, this is a dead end. We need to go... another way. The farmer living here seems  irritated about our presence, but the kids happily lead us out of their hamlet. Hello! This man demonstrates the traditional  Vietnamese bamboo waterpipe or farmers pipe. It is used to smoke Thuốc lào or nicotiana rustica, a tobacco 9 times more potent than typical tobacco. This seems remarkably unhealthy. Today was a pretty tough day. We rode about 80 kilometers, and well, we didn't expect a headwind, but we had a headwind all the way. So that took quite a bit longer than anticipated.

But we reached the goal, a Ngha Nhi. So, in Vietnam, this is a motel… Sometimes it's also kind of an hourly motel, but this looks quite promising. How is it? It's a very simple, basic room, but  with no window and no mosquito net. It's also only 117,000 Dong. Oh, that's great. It's a very good price, I think… So, happy! Let's go. Where are you from? Germany.  Germany, I see. The great thing is, we can ride our bicycles directly in front of the room. So this is the window. I'm not sure why, but maybe it's because  of the humidity or something. If they had a proper glass window, maybe they would get  mold too quickly or something. I don't know. Anyways, this is the room. It is actually an unbelievable value for money, but we would love a mosquito net and a slightly softer mattress! We have a guest.

We have a roommate. It’s huge. What do we do? And by we I obviously mean Mathias. If there is one thing I’m  really afraid of, it’s spiders!  I hope that it doesn't come back. Arev was of the opinion that we should ride back. Morning! First challenge of the day. Get  to the other side of the road. Beware of the lorry! It is the only way to get onto the road.

Time for morning coffee on the side of Asian Highway 1. They always have the coffee already prepared, in this bottle. It’s extremely strong… Then they pour tons of… Condensed milk! And they mix it up pretty well. And then with a ton of crushed ice… coffee! Actually, it's so strong we need to water  it down because it's too intense. Since we just had quietly winding mountain roads we now take the loud, straight and flat main road. We want to get north quickly.

We also adapted our riding schedule to the changing conditions. Here in northern Vietnam we really miss the hammock cafes of the south which we used for our extended heat breaks during the middle of the day. Instead we now push hard during the first half of the day and check in a room early. Finally, we are in the city of Thanh Hoa, and we will rest here today. We are very tired after cycling, I don't know,  65 or 70 kilometers flat today.  And now we are trying to find a room... maybe get something to eat and rest. *speaking Vietnamese*  A room? *speaking Vietnamese* Mathias will go quickly check the room.  He was able to bargain a little  bit, so we get a night for 200k.

Okay, yes? The room is nice. Pretty big. Old but clean. So perfect. Getting a room earlier in the day has the added benefit of taking a shower and getting into dry clothes asap. My sore butt really likes that too! To find very cheap accommodation we  usually check on online platforms first. In Vietnam Agoda or Booking work fairly well. Google maps is also surprisingly helpful, especially remote and less touristic places. However, most of the time we do not book through any app, as we often get better rates cutting out the platform. Only if we are extremely tired and arrive very late or at very touristic places we tend to book a room in advance. Back on the road! But we can’t leave Than Hoa without visiting our favourite restaurant one last time. Banh Xeo, but vegetarian. Finding the awesome Buddhist vegan restaurants of the south  has also become increasingly difficult, but this was a good one!

As we have important business in Hanoi and again only a limited amount of time to remain in the country we continue pushing the QL1/AH1 main road to Trang An. But why Trang An, you might ask? Is it not just another UNESCO World Heritage, and on top of that a limestone karst landscape, again? The answer is yes and no! It is also even more touristic because it’s so close to the capital. And because of that I sort of didn’t want to go, but luckily Arev insisted, and here we are. Even the approach is beautiful. Cycling through green rice paddies, wondering what this woman is harvesting in the water, with the majestic limestone towers standing in the background. Between them, a few cement factories chew away at the karst, a brutal reminder that not  everyone came here for the scenery. We pass a funeral procession and decide  to circle all the way around Trang An

to reach our guesthouse, leaving the  best bits for the following day. We see pagodas tucked into the hillsides, a sprawling temple complex rising from the shore of a lake with a massive stupa at the top of the hill, and this is only the surrounding area. Little boat tour in Trang An. I let the women do the work obviously. Faster, faster! The scene is absurdly layered.

On one side, jagged karst walls shoot straight out of the water, covered in jungle so dense it looks like someone dumped green paint on the cliffs and called it a day. A myriad of waterways and  little paddle boats everywhere. Every few minutes, a pagoda appears, on a tiny island, tucked under an overhang, or perched halfway up a slope. Then suddenly you stand in a temple a millenia old! Top tip, remember the number of your boat! It is rush hour. We are trying to reach our boat, with the number 918, but she can't find a parking space. It’s important that you get back into the same boat, as there are multiple routes through Trang An. Luckily the parking situation resolves and with all passengers aboard we can continue, together with dozens of boats around us. As we duck into a cave the  headroom drops dramatically. Sometimes the cave roof is low enough that everyone instinctively crouches and laughs nervously, then we pop back out into another flooded valley where the karst towers rearrange  themselves into a new skyline.

It’s strangely social and strangely  intimate at the same time.  From the drone’s point of view, we’re  just one tiny dot in a chain of boats   snaking across the water; from the boat, it feels like we’ve been dropped into a liquid maze of emerald lakes that only locals and limestone seem to fully understand. We drift past temples where  incense coils slowly burn; we stop on small landings to climb  a few steps, wander among statues, and then sink back down onto the wooden seats  as the rower pushes us into the next passage. What makes Trang An different from other “nice  boat tour” places is how complete it feels.  It’s not just views and selfies. We’re gliding through a place that has also been a shelter, a fortress, a religious centre and now, by some twist of history, a slow three‑hour loop for people in orange life jackets. By the time we circle back toward the pier, the choreography of boats, cliffs, water and pagodas has done its job.

Our fantastic boat tour comes to an end. I was quite surprised that I actually really liked it. And a different activity… Yeah, some upper body strength. We don't have a lot of that. But we would probably do well in a pedal boat. The strongest person on the boat. She's doing this all day. That's crazy. Today we're leaving Ninh Binh. And we have to make it to Hanoi today because we need to apply for the Chinese visa. We hope we can finish the process in about one week, otherwise we run into issues.

That’s why after all that tranquility, we are hitting the Asian Highway 1 again, leading into Vietnam's second biggest city, the capital Hanoi. Our first visit will be the Chinese visa centre. Yes, China started granting 30 day visa exemptions, but for the route we have in mind, we need more time. Welcome to Hanoi! For a proper paper visa we need to  create a detailed travel itinerary,   hotel bookings and proof of transport for entering and leaving China. That is usually plane tickets, so there is one problem. As we’re no ordinary tourists and did not have a Chinese visa before, it’s going to be a little tricky. After filling many papers and starting the visa process we explore Hanoi and there are many great things you can do, like: Visit the opera. Watch a man shave his dog.

Or get nearly overrun by a train  having your morning coffee. I also weirdly enjoyed watching the  neverending traffic from the roof of our hotel,   but other than that… We’ve been quite busy. We went to the dentist to check  our teeth and get them cleaned... And recently both of our hard drives failed, both the storage drive and the backup drive, which created huge problems for us.

So we had to go to a data recovery company. They did not manage to recover  everything, but most of it. Overall, a very good day. So I'm hungry; I need a banh mi. We applied here for a Chinese visa… And now we got the email that we can get our passports back. So we hope that the visa was approved. If you see us crying, then we didn't get the visa. We just got the Chinese visa! So, it's time. We are leaving Hanoi. We had a pleasant time. We have the visas, we have everything we needed. And now… This! Our next goal is the upper end of Vietnam. It's a little over 300 kms to Ha Giang, a town in the mountains next to the border with China. After over a week in the capital we are looking forward to riding through rural Vietnam and Oh well well This is a very quiet road… *chuckling*  Almost through… One moment we’re still cycling through the bustling metropolis, and suddenly traffic is down to one water buffalo.

For some weeks now at least once if not  twice a day the sky opens the floodgates. It did not bother us too much as it mostly stopped reasonably fast. However, that seems to change… which seems sensible, as today  the rain doesn’t want to stop.  Ready to cycle! It's been raining since last night. So what can we do? We have to get to the border because  we need to do a border run again.  Just some slight rain. Unfortunately under the raincoat it’s like a steam room. We’re getting soaked either way. It’s just water, water, water. It seems like it will not stop raining until tomorrow noon, so we decided to make it a short day.

It's now 2pm, we are in a guesthouse and try to dry up and get some work done. And as most of the time we were lucky again and found this amazing restaurant with these variety of dishes for just 30,000 dong which is a little bit over one Euro. So we got some pickled something, beans, kale, filled bamboo sprouts, rice and some pork I imagine with olives. That's very interesting. Yesterday we reached Ha Giang. It was not a very good day. I had a flat tire. Arev was sick, she had to throw up, some problems with the stomach. Maybe she ate something wrong. And then later we went to do a border run. We rented a motorcycle to get there faster. But the fuel ran out, so we had to  push the bike for a while and then we arrived at the border very late. And then it turns out Arev couldn't do the border run, because she's on an e-visa and she cannot use that border gate.

So only I was allowed to cross the border,  but it was very very late. Then on the Chinese side, even though I told them specifically that I do not want to use my Chinese visa, they still stamped my visa. I had to tell them: Please! I need the visa in one month! Because I can enter China on the German passport with a visa exemption. Well, that took another 15 minutes or so during which the Vietnamese border closed for the day. Eventually they told me I can use the visa again and I was able to go back. And now we are on the way to a different border, Lao Cai. It’s 200 kilometers. So again we are on the motorcycle. That's a hell of a ride. It's like four hours one way. We are still 70 kilometers out. Hopefully Arev can pass to China and come back.  So that we can stay another four weeks in Vietnam and use both our visas for China after that. We had no idea our border run to  Lao Cai would turn into a nightmare.  It started pouring right after that rest stop.

As if 400 kms through the mountains in a day wouldn’t be tough enough. Soon the engine kept stalling  due to the heavy rain. I struggled to keep the bike going and the engine running again. Crossing to China and back took Arev another hour and it just kept pouring. Rain was hitting my eyeballs as the helmet had no visor. Visibility was bad and kept getting poorer. After nightfall I could barely see the slippery road winding through the mountain range. When we returned to Ha Giang late in the night, soaked, cold, exhausted and terrified, I swore to myself to never do something so stupid again. Anyways, the remote and very mountainous Ha Giang province in the far North of Vietnam is known for its dramatic limestone karst landscapes, the road loop by the same name, and the laid back mountain folks, with an incredible variety of indigenous ethnic cultures. The following weeks we stay in a guesthouse at the outskirts of the provincial capital. As it’s the rainy season, it is almost empty and fairly cheap.

We work on our videos, and explore the surroundings. We visit the market, the butcher, a small waterfall, and a much bigger waterfall too. Together with a fellow traveller  we visit some subsistence farmers   that live in the jungle up the mountain. As their mother is busy working in the city, the kids stay with their grandparents over the summer. At least that is our understanding. Translation apps don't work well in remote regions, especially without cell service, as people speak heavy dialects or even distinct local languages. It is quite impressive what they built here.

There is no electricity, nor running water. Nature sets the pace. We feel like we're set back in time. They don’t seem to own one single thing without an important practical use. But they also don’t seem to miss anything. Obviously this life is very tough,  but also extremely peaceful. Arthur, a young man from Belarus, visited the family several times before. His dream is building a hut in  the forest to live in as well. Personally I am not 100% sure about the potential neighbours,

even though she might become soup in the evening. Still, we can’t wait to explore even deeper into the region. We decide to wait another week, before cycling the Ha Giang loop. There had been flooding and landslides due to an abnormal amount of rain. Climate change! In the meantime we give our equipment some love. Mathias insists that I need a new front tire, as it's starting to disintegrate. We did not find a Schwalbe Marathon Tour Plus, but we found an original, new Schwalbe Marathon tire, which is good enough. We also replaced a broken rear spoke on the drive side without the proper tool. It was a mess and we’re glad that there is no footage of it. By destroying a new hat Arev adds sun-protection to her helmet. Unfortunately the zip tie of my frame bag is completely… Well… It's done.

But I manage to find the same frame bag in a Vietnamese online shop, and after fried egg toast breakfast number 30 it is time! We are setting out to Vietnam's #1 road of  roads, the 290 km 7,500 metres elevation gain Ha Giang loop. I mean, well, over 2,500 metres of elevation gain per 100 kms might sound bad, but how hard could it possibly be? We’ve cycled through plenty of mountains. The Taurus range in Turkey, the Caucasus in Georgia and Armenia, the Zagros mountains of Iranian Kurdistan, and of course the almighty Pamir Highway. Just look at this beautiful scenery, the road is smooth along the river, what could possibly stop us? You will not believe what just happened. No.... So I think we did maybe 5 kilometers. And that's it for the Ha Giang loop.

Because there is no way I  can ride with this saddle.  And there is also no way that I  will find a proper saddle here.  So it will take us at least a  week or so to get a new saddle. We’ve been in anticipation of  riding the Ha Giang loop for months.  Can’t duct tape hold it together? It’s super remote, and without any bicycle shops around we try to pull off a MacGyver. How does it feel to be on the saddle right now?  Not very good. It’s way too soft. What's the problem? I can not span it. It's super soft now, which means it's terribly uncomfortable. You think you could cycle on it for like 2-3 days? No! And also it might just rip again. Yes, I am pissed now… *in German* Okay, let's see if we can  find a saddle in Ha Giang.

I'm pretty sure they had one Brooks B17 in that bike shop in Hanoi. So, maybe they can quickly  deliver it here in one day.  Because I would rather do that, actually. After riding back to the guesthouse the manager immediately starts making calls. Unfortunately I realise a much bigger problem… So… I guess it was a good thing that the saddle ripped yesterday. It just happened when I was cycling,   it just ripped through. I think because of all the crazy   amounts of sweating the last few months. That was not good for the leather. Luckily that happened not far from Ha Giang. In a crazy action we got a second  hand, almost new, Brooks saddle. The guy from our hostel was  really really helpful with that. But I had also felt the problem in my knee like a week ago. I slipped going down the hill, walking, of all things.

And I didn't think much  of it at the time, it was a little bit painful. And I put some Diclofenac gel on it and then  it kind of went away and I didn't think of it.  Then after the short ride,  yesterday that was maybe…  That was less than 20km in the flat, I immediately started feeling a   little pain in my knee again and I also can hear a cracking sound.  So, today I went to the hospital here in Ha Giang. They decided to do an MRI. Obviously I can't see anything on this. The judgement is that I need an operation. What? They say that it’s not the meniscus, but it's the ligament that is ripped  through halfway, it looks like.  And they said there's no other  way than having an operation.  But also, the main specialist for this  kind of stuff, he was in an operation,  so they told us to come again  tomorrow, to speak with him.  The good thing is, I mean… Now it was really worth paying for the health insurance I guess. And the ridiculous thing is that we cycled 18,000 kilometers halfway around the world.

And what's going to stop me is not cycling but walking down a hill. But it’s only the ligament, so this is good. I think soccer players have this all the time and eventually they will be back on the field. So… That's that. We’ve made it so far, overcoming countless obstacles. We did not realize it at the time, but I guess making it over Ak-Baital pass and the Pamir Highway cleared any remaining doubt that we will reach South Korea on our bicycles. As you might imagine, this injury came as a shock, but don’t lose heart. We submitted the MRI scans to several doctors we trust in Germany, for a second, third and fourth opinion. This is not the end of our journey, be sure of that! If you love what we do please share our videos with other people that might like them too. We show the world as we see it, in over 50 episodes and counting. This is only possible because of your support.

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