Detour #179: Tackling the Hai Van Pass on two wheels, Vietnam
If Clarkson, Hammond and May can manage it then so can you.
The best way to experience Vietnam is on the humble motorbike as Top Gear viewers will well know. You can ride all the way from Dong Van near the Chinese border to Ca Mau on the southern tip if you want. However, there are plenty of shorter stages within the 1500-mile journey.
Hoi An to Hue and back is a road trip that one can fit into a weekend — even an overnight. This route takes you through three provinces in one journey and covers less than 200 miles with the round trip. Hiring a motorbike is cheap and easy in Vietnam. You can get on the road from as little as five dollars a day and some companies even offer one-way rentals.
My journey begins as I depart the Unesco World Heritage old town of Hoi An on a rented 2002 Yamaha Nouvo, leaving behind lanterned streets, wooden pagodas, and temples through the misty morning dreamscape of rice paddies.
The coastal road north to Da Nang is only a stone’s throw from the East Vietnam Sea, which is mostly hidden by layers of trees, homes, and guesthouses that pepper this extensive stretch of coast. As I near Da Nang, the golf course to my west is the first real sign that old Vietnam is in my back mirror; the modern, tourist-ready Vietnam lays ahead. The rest of the roadside is flanked by high-walled resorts and beach clubs that cast a shadow over the casual traffic.
On the beach road along Da Nang Bay, there is less construction blocking the sea views, and morning sunbirds are out for yoga sessions, surf school, or a stroll along the white sands. A fleet of circular fishing boats lies moored at the fringes of the shore.
At a leisurely pace it takes over an hour to reach the foot of the mountainous outcrop north of the beach. Up above looms the Hai Van Pass; beyond, another 45 miles to the north, lies the former Vietnamese capital of Hue.
The Hai Van Pass is a snaking 13-mile road coiled between the province of Da Nang and Thua Thien Hue, signalling the official divide between the north and south of Vietnam. This location is poignant for obvious historical reasons, though I am far too concerned with staying on the road at this point.
I am now climbing the winding switchbacks that hug the mountainside. To my right, is a dizzying spectacle of tropical jungle valleys over the ocean; above to my left, hulking, green mountains that form the end of the great Annamese Range — the spine of the entire country.
I look forward to the parts of the road that jut out toward the sea, but wary of a close call with a local pickup truck, I stop whenever a layby appears so I can enjoy the view. You cannot rush this one.
High up on the provincial border is the mid-journey point with a tourist-trap chicane where you can dismount and hike up to a viewing platform. Below, oxide-covered gun towers signify the end of the old dynasties and remind one of the turbulent decades that followed.
The descent towards Hue is equally impressive; the switchbacks continue, skirting over secluded beaches with jade waters on the other side of the headland. This route is not only for riding: there are waterfalls, hiking routes, and multiple picnic areas along the way.
It is incredible how quickly the gradient changes in Vietnam. I descend from the mountain pass and suddenly, I am in the lowlands. The estuary and lagoons here are majestic with the misty peaks framing the background.
This is where heavy traffic from the bypass highway tunnel meets the Hai Van Pass traffic. I cross the bridge over the Lap An lagoon, which sits beside the sprawl of Lang Co beach where hotels and tour companies compete for space and money
The road to Hue is smoother, though more dangerous than the last 60 miles. Now, full-on juggernauts thunder past as I try to keep a decent pace towards the city; my bike is a mere flea to these mammoths.
The drive around Cau Hai Lake with paddies and mangrove swamps on the other side is mesmerising — it’s also the perfect stop for a banh mi and iced coffee before the final few miles into Hue.
I feel cleansed of city life as I squat on a tiny plastic chair and breathe in a panorama of mountains, fish farms, and milky blue skies that shimmer across the lake. I seriously contemplate looking for a teaching job in Da Nang.
The total journey to Hue takes me four hours and twenty minutes one way, though this is with photo stops, refreshment breaks, and at a snail’s pace. I am almost sad when I pull up to my hotel and look forward more to the drive back than the day of museums and temples I have planned in Huế – even on a battered 20-year-old bike.
Words Ben Rice
Photography Akash Ramdharry