Teeuwsen.com

Hi all,

I’m back in Nha Trang. The bicycle is fun but also destroying. When I got up to Dalat, the mountain town I was headed to, I collapsed into a hotel and barely had the energy to drag myself over to a reasturant where I ordered two meals. It took me three and a half days to get up there. The first day was good, just flat roads and plenty of people around. As night neared some people on motorbikes pulled up beside me to chat. They said they would show me to a hotel, so I rode alongside them for the last ten km of the day. They wanted to hangout and practice their English, so I had them into my room and poured some drinks from a little bottle of whisky I had. When, the one guy looked really excited about it, the girl said no and their friend made a face at his first sip I began to susspect their age. It turned out all 16. I don’t usually try to booze up minors so I felt pretty silly, but it was only one drink, so even though it was strong I think it was alright. I’m such a terrible judge of age…..

I got into the countryside the next day and spent such a sweet night camping out in the jungle, with my hammok, a flute and all the tangled noises of a wild place that both, scare me a little and get my imagination going a lot. The next day started with my first great down hill of the road. It was following a tight river valley with tall trees and vines whizzing by. Shortly after I got my first huge and punishing uphill. It kept going and going for 11 kms. I was dizzy peddeling up in the bright sun and sweating all the salt out of me, but I got up eventualy and had a little help with the last km. I held on the back of a slow rolling truck; a trick I learned from the tricycle days. I know it’s cheating, but I’ll sacrifice my sence of acomplishment for a few of my dieing breaths back.

The lady who ran the shop I ate in that night didn’t like the idea of me sleeping outside and offered me her couch. It was a little akward sittling in her families living room that night, with me having almost nothing to say because I haven’t learned much Vietnamese besides counting, but they were nice. I slept well and headed out early in the morning. It was quite hilly most of the next day. I was so happy when I saw the road marker 12 kms to Dalat even though the road was turning up hill again, but then it kept going up and up and didn’t stop till I pulled into the hotel. Hence the collapse and the over eating when I arrived.

The jungle had changed into pine forrest as the elevation rose. It was great being some place dry and cool. I hung around Dalat for a day. There’s a cool water fall near town and some fun single track bike paths around (Somewhat reminicent of Jasper biking, Dan). I finaly got my rewarding downhill as I left Dalat the next day. There were great views of the lowlands as I neared the coast and a gorgous sunset sharpening the features of the rice patties and kids on their way home. I sat down to enjoy it all, but I didn’t get any pictures. I had decided to just soak it in, rather than frame it up. I pulled back into Nha Trang quite a bit later in a cool night rain which was exactly what I needed. I had a bad pain in my left akilies tendon and constant pins and needles in my right hand from leaning on the handel bars(i won’t get into how much I hate my new nemesis the bicycle seat, which was laughing at me the whole way for not buying bicycle shorts), but I made it with enough time to chill out with my friends from Taiwan for a day before they left for Paris so I was happy.

It’s a couple of days later and I’m still in Nha Trang and I still have pins and needles tickeling my right hand which is a bit unnerving, (pins and needles, unnerving… get it? HA!I’m so funny) I just searched the internet about numbness in the hand from bicycling and a few articles came up talking about exactly what I had. It’s nice to know it’s pretty common and not carple tunnle. It’s some other tunnel. They gave some tips on how not to agrivate it, so it should be alright.

I’ve started reading a couple old favorite books likeCatch-22, 1984, On the Road, and Still Life with Woodpecker(4 at a time is new for me, but I already know what’s going to happen so it’s easy to keep track). Actually the last one got cut short. It dropped off my bike on the road near Dalat. I turned around a little ways down the road after a truck passed and I saw someone getting off their motorbike and picking up my book. ‘Hey, Thanks!…wait, don’t get back on your bike, hey that’s my book, hey! you proabaly can’t even read English…. jerks…’ They totally made off with my book. I was shocked. And the book was just getting so good… the mad bomber was in the middle of seducing a princess who wanted to build a piramid and was marrying an oil rich Arab for the money. ah well. I have read it before.

(most of this text was stolen from a previous letter to a good friend, I’ve appologized for this kinda thing before. I’m too lazy to write the story twice 😉

I hope all is well and there are preperations for a monster of a party comming up in the house of Teeuwsen. I wish I could be there for it. Cheers on your B-Day Mom. I’ve just reached quarter century and you’re hitting a half. I wonder if it’s polite to broadcast that to the whole WORLD WIDE WEB (big, scary and full of possibility, i know), but I just can’t contain myself. I think it’s darn cool that I’m exactly as old as you were when you had me. Wow, you were a uncontainable, 3 kids by 25. And tough, I don’t think I could have delt with all 4 of us boys and done such a good job of it. I love you!

Steve

This entry was posted on Monday, February 27th, 2006 at 11:52 am and is filed under Uncategorized. You can follow any responses to this entry through the RSS 2.0 feed. You can leave a response, or trackback from your own site.