Mr. Minh and the motorbike

I really should start by mentioning the Russians. In Halong bay. So there I was, I managed to make it the entire way through Russia without anyone offering me vodka, well anyone except for a really drunk girl from Belfast which I refused. But in Halong Bay, the Russians, a couple, i can't remember their names, whipped out this bottle of Vodka and insisted that everyone did a toast after dinner. It was fiery stuff and sent half the contingent into karaoke overload and the other half into bed. It did neither to me, the Karaoke overload was the reason for my departure to bed. But anyway I digress.
I said au revoir to Hanoi, and following some mis-information from my travel agent and took a flight down to Hoi An, scene of recent crocodile breakout and cholera outbreak. There was little sign of the floods, no sign of the crocodiles and other than a head cold no symptoms of cholera. I stowed away in a Mercedes which had been sent to pick up three Canadian girls from the Airport. The airport is actually in Da nang which is a 35 minute drive from Hoi an. The driver didn't notice until the Canadians got out of the car and then he started waving his hands in the air and saying three three. It was a nice break from the usual halloo. I gave him a $ and he drove me to my hotel. I quickly checked in and immediately jumped in a taxi, just like a local, not. And headed to a bar to meet up with Ewan, the English guy I had travelled through China with. That was fun and it was great to catch up; i was a little jealous because he had both a travelling companion, who's name I believe was Torture, and a better sun tan than I.
Hoi An would be lovely if it hadn't recently been flooded and I wasn't dying of a head cold and generally feeling a malaise towards all things touristy. That night i slept like a baby and woke up with a new sense of vigor. Enough of this lying around sniffling it was time that I stuck a cocaine enema up the ass of this trip and did something wild.
You see comfort zones are very strange things. We all have them. An intangible but impenetrable wall that runs around our lives keeping most bad out and ensuring that there's safety and warmth within. When I stepped out that door on the the 2nd of September I walked out of my comfort zone, away from all my friends, my family, my apartment and my life. But the weird thing is that once you walk out of a comfort zone, you immediately starting constructing a new one for yourself. It's especially easy here is SE Asia, there are so many tourists, back-packers, or all ages from 18 to 73 all doing the same thing. You can follow the well trodden path, book the over night sleeper, stay in the comfy hostel, drink beer with other English speakers and talk about where you have been. Of all the creatures who travel this planet, the back-packer must be one of the most annoying. The "do" countries. How do you "do" a country, that just doesn't make any sense. They tick boxes and check cities and sites off lists most of the time barely aware what country or city they are in. I met a guy last week who told me that he was going to go and hang in Vietnam until the storms were over. I told him that he was in Vietnam and he stood up, said "fuck you" and walked away. Hmmmm ... anyway again i digress.
Mr. Minh and his motor cycle. Well with all the above in mind I went to the travel desk to get some advice on how to get to Da lat which I had heard was beautiful. I could fly to Na drang, or get a train and a bus or just a bus. Blah blah blah, or I could hire a motor bike driver to drive me for 5 days through the mountains, down the Ho chi Minh trail and into Dalat. The little voice in my head, the same one that tells me to stop drinking, was yelling no but ... WTF?