Tam Dao National Park Part III

After spending a couple hours poking around Tam Dao village, the clouds started moving in and it began misting.  Afraid misting in the mountains might mean downpours on the route back to Hanoi, we decided to head back.

Fortunately, after a couple of minutes back down the mountain, the clouds broke and the weather cleared, so we stopped in a nice forested area at a roadside "cafe" for refreshment.  That meant two Red Bulls and a sugar cane juice. 

The juice was fresh squeezed with this handy grinder.  Off to the right, you can see a groom in white who was there with his bride who was getting her hairdoo touched up before they disappeared into the forest for their photo op.

At this point, it was well-past midday and Mr Thanh and I were both getting pretty hungry.  We talked while we rode about what we wanted to eat, but it was difficult to hear what he was saying given the wind and helmet and all.  I've decided that talking to each other while riding is pretty much just nodding and smiling because you really can't hear a thing the other rider is saying.

Anyway, we slowly drove by a couple of "interesting" looking spots before Mr Thanh decided on this particularly "interesting" looking spot. 

I'd have sooner driven my car inside to have it serviced than sat down for a bowl of pho, but that's exactly what we did.  The owner, I presume, leapt up from his spot on the floor in the back where he was watching a ping pong tournament on a flat screen TV which you can see hanging on the wall.  Frankly, I was a little nervous about this place.

Mr Thanh ordered up two bowls of beef pho, "pho bo", and a couple of minutes later, we were served.  It was the best pho I've had.  Big huge slices of tender beef and a delicious broth with a strong hint of ginger.  As Mr Thanh would say, "it was fantastique!"

On the left is the giant pot of broth the owner had brewing.
Underneath is a drum with oil can size brickettes which keeps the broth warm.

After we finished, the owner went back to his resting spot on the floor and finished watching the ping pong tournament.

Because we were travelling in a relatively rural part of Vietnam, we regularly saw loads of corn being moved here and there.  Mr Thanh asked if we had corn in the US so I told him that all summer long, Americans eat tons of corn on the cob with butter and salt and that whole states (not the least of which were Wisconsin and Minnesota) grew nothing but corn as far as the eye could see.  He was pretty surprised to hear this it seemed.

Shortly after, we came to a long stretch of highway were there was stand after stand of cornsellers who had fresh corn for sale.  Unlike the Midwest, however, they also had freshly cooked corn on the cob for sale.

'Corn's a-boilin' in the center pot with husk and all.
We ate it plain and it was good, but nothing like fresh sweet corn from home.

Our scenic roadside stool view.

On the way back, just before crossing over the Bac Thang Long bridge, a torrential downpour began.  Fortunately we had our trusty ponchos with us (as you must at all times around here) so we threw those on and continued through buckets of rain.  By the time we reached the end of the bridge, it had died down enough for us to finish the trip home.

I'll close by saying that at this point, I'm not surprised by anything I see folks around here toting around on their bikes. Someone said there's even a coffee table picture book with nothing but photos of Vietnamese scooters and their amazing loads.  It's definitely something I'll be looking for on Amazon. 

In the meantime, I think I found an excellent submission for Volume II.