Chasing Amy-Lou

The mountains, somewhere near Da Nang, Vietnam:

Today had by far been my favourite day in Vietnam. And even though at the time of writing this – still riding high from the endorphins of the afternoon – I felt nothing could top the experience, I knew for a fact that it was only going to get better from here on out.

The morning started with some deliberation. Did I choose the beach or a trip to the Marble Mountains followed by a scooter ride up Son Tra (a mountain just north of Da Nang, about 32kms from Hoi An where I was currently staying)? Choosing adventure over relaxation I opted for the scooter. And I’m so unbelievably glad that I did.

Jumping on a beaten-up looking red Yamaha that I’d hired from my homestay – a vehicle I had reservations would get me anywhere safely – I nervously set off for the Marble Mountains, some 10kms outside of Hoi An. Cautiously driving along the dirty, gravel-laden road, looking out for rogue bikes and mental drivers, I took my time as I got used to the scooter and how she handled under my control. It didn’t take long before I felt confident enough to up the speed from 30kms an hour to 40kms an hour and blend in with the local traffic. I was a speed demon!

Marble Mountains is the collective name for a cluster of mountains that are named after each of the five elements – Thoy Son (water), Moc Son (wood), Hoa Son (fire), Kim Son (gold/metal) and Tho Son (earth). I chose to take a look round Thoy Son, possibly the most famous and most touristy of them all.

The drive from Hoi An was pleasant enough. It wasn’t a very challenging ride and as I neared my first destination of the day I passed Mon Soc, a towering thing of beauty amid rows and rows of sculpture-houses and sculpture-studios where topless Vietnamese men carved and sanded, chiseled and blasted their way through mountains of marble to produce huge sculptures in many God-like images.

Turning the corner and I came face to face with Thoy Son, a gorgeous spectacle that somewhat overshadowed its smaller neighbour. Paying the entrance fee of 40,000 VND I began the slow ascent of the steep marble steps to the caves and Pagodas that lay waiting at the top (there was the option to take the newly installed elevator and walk back down but as I’m a sadistic bugger who thrives on making things more of an effort than they should be, taking the stairs under the sweltering heat of the 10:30am sun seemed like the best idea at the time).

Halfway up and dripping with sweat (that I later realised had washed all my sunscreen off so naturally I ended up with burnt shoulders) I began thinking the elevator might’ve been a more sensible approach. Especially when it came to what I can only describe as an unexpected mini rock climb in order to reach Heaven Gate and the peak of the mountain. Heaven Gate it was not. More like Hell Gate. Through sweat-stained eyes, inappropriate footwear and soaking wet clothes; a stand-off between a group of impatient and ignorant Chinese tourists, I made it to the top. And despite the arduous climb in the [very nearly] midday sun, the view was more than worth it.

Trying in vain not to slip on my way down and cause some kind of marble avalanche, I made it back to the base of Heaven Gate and began exploring the caves and pagodas – what I found were a vast array of sculpted Buddhist shrines and inscriptions sat neatly in the cave walls; and the colours, design and formation of the pagodas spectacular in their beauty.

Thoy Son was a thing of sheer magnificence; a cultural and religious site of preservation and a sanctuary for those still wanting to maintain their Confucius roots. Visiting just before noon was probably a bit of a mistake on my part as the mountain was teaming with hoards of tour groups; in hindsight an earlier visit at around 7am would probably have provided a little more solitude, a little less noise, and a lot less heat.

After leaving Thoy Son a hot and sweaty mess, kind of wanting to just strip my body down and tell my sweat glands to stop over reacting, I uhm’ed and ahhh’d about whether or not to take the scooter and continue on up to Son Tra; a mountain with twists and turns in its uneven road, a mountain known to house monkeys and other various wildlife, a mountain that overlooks Da Nang and boasts incredible views of both the city and the South China Sea. I threw caution to the wind, decided my clothes and sweat would dry in the breeze of the ride, and slapped myself across the chops for even having second thoughts about scootering up there.

The slap must’ve worked because an hour or so later I was riding along the beach road towards my final destination of the day; the base of the mountain at my wheels and a ruddy huge statue of Buddha just up ahead in the distance, perfectly positioned in the mountainside, gloriously white in colour, endearingly spiritual and picturesquely beautiful.

I’d no idea how long the ride would take, whether or not the scooter would even make it up to the peak, and if I’d have enough fuel. In the end I needn’t have worried because the old Yamaha did me proud. And what a ride it was.

If I were to try and describe to you every intricate detail of my journey up to the top of Son Tra I don’t think I could do it justice. No words can really replicate the feeling of pure exhilaration I felt on the way up there. The wind in my hair, the sea to my right, the city behind me, the lush green colours of the mountain laid out before me; and the shoreline, oh the views of the shoreline! It was liberating and refreshing; scary and exciting; and being a novice rider anyway, it was a challenge and an adventure.

Getting to the top of Son Tra and taking in the views from Ban Co Peak; breathing in the mountain air, soaking up the atmosphere, and thanking all the Gods for this precious freedom, was a proud achievement. At times during the ride I’d felt the scooter struggle up the long steep gradients and had wondered if she would make it to the next viewpoint. I’d also had doubts about my ability to control the Yamaha and her brakes, as the gravel maintained its rocky, loose texture under the wheels. But my anxiety was for nothing, as the intensity of the experience and the happiness I felt at having taken the journey outweighed any prior concerns.

If you ever visit Vietnam, can ride a scooter, and yearn for the freedom and solitude of the road, far away from the hustle and bustle of organised tourist trips and crowds of travellers, then I would definitely put riding up Son Tra on your list of things to do. You will not regret it.