Breakfast at 8:00 AM was similarly delicious to yesterday. Then we had a date with the Easy Rider bikies. We had arranged to be picked upby then easy Riders for a tour of the countryside. Yes, even Jill. Mind you, she did tell them that she was a bit scared. Consequently, she was allocated a bike with a backrest and was allowed a helmet with just a strap (not full face). Our bikies for the day were Tony Blaire (we guessed that wasn't his real name :-), Le, Vu and Khoi. Le was in charge. He has a wife and sons, 5 years and two weeks old. The others were younger and all studying at university. Tony Blair was studying to be a teacher and was a bit worried because he likes to wear his hair long (frowned upon) and has a habit of using bad language. When he finished studying, he would have to go back to his province to teach.
Our first stop was Lat village, where we were shown a Catholic Church. It included the traditional beliefs of the Lat people. There were a couple of sets of Buffalo horns on a totem pole, pictures of fish, birds on the walls and surprisingly quite a large sound system. Apparently some people walk for two days to get to Mass here once a month. This village does weaving, and of course, we were shown to a shop. Bought a bed cover for our bed and a little zippered box. We were also shown a traditional stilt house (probably only about 600 mm off the ground) - a fairly open space with a fireplace in the middle that the whole extended family could gather around and then sleep near to keep the mozzies away.
Back on the road, we rode through an area with lots of greenhouses. Stopped at one full of gerberas and roses - just beautiful. There didn't seem to be any bugs, so we wondered if they spray. We have seen men in the rice paddies with knapsack spraying something. No rice up here, though. Further on, there was lots of coffee grown. The coffee can be grown on the steep hillsides with no need for terracing as they do with vegetables. Coffee beans were spread out to dry on all the flat surfaces around the houses, driveways, and even the road edges. Evidently it's robust coffee.
We stopped for lunch where they grow coffee. They served us some very strong coffee with condensed milk. It wasn't too bad once we asked for extra hot water. Lunch was amazing. As usual, fish (which half an hour earlier had been swimming around in an aerated tank at the front of the house (it seems the fish are relocated here from the dam at the bottom of the hill). There was also pork and lots of vegetables. We wondered if they kill their own pigs, as three fat pigs were sleeping in very clean pens under the house when we went to check out the rice wine making. It appears the pigs are fed the "dregs" when the fermented rice is distilled. Were they permanently drunk?
Next stop was Elephant Waterfall, so called because a baby elephant is said to have fallen over. It was pretty spectacular but unfortunately spoiled somewhat by the amount of litter about. "In the villages they don't worry about rubbish". We particularly noticed as Da Lat is really clean. There are even recycling women walking around with squeezy whistles collecting recyclables.
A silk factory was next. Wow!! Such beautiful cloth but so noisy - both the machines that spun the silk and the huge machine weaving the silk into cloth. Jill bought a scarf in the exact pattern they were making and also bought a skirt. Many people in the village raise silk worms and then sell the cocoons to the factory. The factory keeps going seven days a week.
On to a mushroom farm where we saw Cat's Ear mushrooms sprouting out of bags of 'stuff" that comes from rubber trees. Then another house where we saw how the hung flat baskets that the silkworms and then their cocoons are stored on.
Passed a school. Just stopped outside. The kids were pretty excited to see us as they were coming out and maybe going in. No school for us today, though.
Our final destination was a technical school we thought we could visit. But when we arrived, we were told no because the students were having exams r some such thing.
