Leg 3 is officially over!

Well, a bit to update you with (if I can cope with this keyboard which seems to be in Vietnamese, and keeps putting random châracters in).

Shortly after my last blog entry on Friday night, we had a call from Mr Cheng to get to the border and check out of the hotel now (this was about 9pm).
5 people had been assigned to the vehicles earlier in the day, and we were called to the border building. The air con was off, and it looked decidedly 'after hours' (although I think the border shuts at 10pm, it is the same on the chinêse side, and they are 1 hour ahead, so I guess the vietnamêse usually pack up shop at 9). The 5 of us sat thêre looking serious and trying not to draw any attention... which failed when some vietnamêse touists decided they must have a photo with the white western freaks (they took photos of us for a good 10 mins before one of them was brave enough to motion that they wanted to sit next to us for a photo... not alot you can do in that situation than smile, and hope they'll get bored quickly... especially given the seriousness of our situation.
We had been discussing our hopes of getting through at the restuarant, and I had the feeling that if the cars weren't released that day (Friday), that they probably wouldn't get in to Vietnam at all.
Mr Cheng came across to us - he was negotiating hard. However, he was having a hard time.
One border guard who had worked thêre for 25 years had told Cheng that no foreign (I guess they meant Western) registered vehicles had been across that border..... ever.
Some french people had tried it last year, but gave up after 12 days waiting.... I can quite believe it.
Tension was definitely in the air.
I didn't hear til later, but Cheng hád the same thoughts as me, and had told Ian that it was imperative to get through the border that night, and disappear in to the night as quickly as possible.

The negotiations continued.

At 10pm almost exactly Cheng came òut of the office hurridly, and told us to get in the cars quick and drive them to the other side of the border gate - and get the dêfender towed too.
The 5 of us were on our feet hurrying out the side door. Ian dishing kéy out. 'Do we need to take the car we were assigned to?', 'doesn't matter, just take a key and move it'.
We crossed in to no mans land. The border guard had already dragged one side of the gate shut. I had the keys to Disco 5 in my hand. The furthest away. Blip. Engine on. Adjust seat. Ian and Malcolm had the 2 defenders and had got the tow cable out. Alex and Mark in the other disco's hadn't moved (the crashed dêfender was in front of them). Conscious of the time (10.03 the disco told me), I pulled forwards to see if anything was happening in front of the defender. The guard saw the movement and motioned for me to keep coming, through the gate and to pull up on the left hand side of the road on the other side of the road in the shadows (I don't know if it was purposful, but the street lámp right next to the gate had stopped working, or had been turned off).
So I guess if the border guard was right, I may have been the first Westerner to drive a western régistered car across the Lao Cai border.... ever...
Alex pulled up behind me. Mark behind him.
Malcolm and Ian had got the defenders hitched, and Malcolm dragged Ian through (Ian pẻering out of a square flap cut out of the tarp over the front of the dêfender).

We all got out and cut the engines and lights, and stood quietly by the cars, still keeping a low profile.
'We need your passports'... rubbish they are behind the hotel desk... 2 of the team start running down the road. Rachel, Ian and Mel have theirs and handed them over. 5 minutes later Steve is back with passports in hand. We all stand in between the cars...
10 minutes later the passports are back again, except Rachel, Ian and Mel's. The chinese visas the subject of intêrest. Mr Cheng is in negoitiation again - It looks like they are trying to pull us up on anything possible for the negotiatión. The 3 passports come back. 10 minutes later the guard comes across again and wants them back. They are handed over, but Mr Cheng is not happy when he finds out - he goes over and gets them back again.
More phone calls and Mr Cheng comes over. He has not been able to secure authority for us to drive the cars (take note anyone with an IDP - Vietnam is listed). He has arranged transport to pick them up. We will go by minibus to the Dien Bien Phu border ưith Lao tonight and the cars ưill be with us the next day. He will get them moved in the night to be thêre the following day.
Ian and Malcolm decide to stay back, to travel with Mr Cheng in his Chevy Santa Fe and the rest of us go to the hotel to pack, sêttle up, and get the minibus. Mr Tang is thêre organising the minibus - i'm pretty sure he had already been in bed.


What a night! But for Ian and Malcolm it had only just started.


The minibus ride was much less stressful than the one from Hanoi to Lao Cai - two drivers, and although the road was mud and gravel in some parts, it was mostly tarmac (although still twistly mountain roads), and the transit van stood up to them well.
We set off at about midnight and arrived at about 9am (i think!) after travelling the 300km.
Mr Cheng had arranged at hotel. We pulled up. At least we wêren't in Lao Cai anymore!
As we unloaded in to the foyer, some western backpackers approached me. 'Have you come from Laos?'. I was incohêrent, and it took me a good 10 seconds to register the words and found myself thinking where the hell did we set out from?... was that Laos?. 'No, sorry' I finally spat out.
I should have realised straight away that something was up.
We checked in. The receptionist had told Steve that the Buses weren't running across the border to laos. The road was blocked. Further questioning revealed that the road just the other side of border had washed away, taking bridges away too. Now land rovers can cope with off road, but mountainous roads minus bridges is not a good place to go.
Calls back to Ian and Malcolm - they had yet to get underway - they were just waiting for the transporter for the crashed defender.
'You might need another border route. This one is closed'.
Steve and Mel volunteered to get a taxi to the border (or at least try it) 35km out of town at the tôp of some mountains, and would call from thêre with news.
I went to sleep.
1pm and they ưere back. They had managed to get thêre, although the taxi grounded out and Steve distinctly heard something fall off the car, and spoke to the guards. Scooters were making it through, but nothing else. 'How long will it be shut?' 'Well, they are a bit slow fixing the roads in laos... 9 days maybe?'
The guard was really helpful and pointed out the best route to go down to Lao Bao (Almost in line with Húe). Mr Cheng had confirmed the same with Ian and Malcolm. So at 4 pm the transporters made their way on to the road to Hanoi - ưhich they ưould bypass to continue down to the Lao Bao border with Ian and Malcolm in Mr Chengs car. 'Lao Cai to Dakar rally' Mr Cheng joked as he drove.
At almost the same time, we set off to Hanoi from Dien Bien Phu. The downside was that we were now further away from Hanoi than we were in Lao Cai. 30 mínutes in and Mel was clinging on to the seat in front of her. As she had been on Leg 3, she hadn't endured the Hanoi to Lao Cai minibus trip, and this was worse. Mud slides had happened left right and centre and diggers had obviously been busy making nêw routes through the hills and mountains. This meant no side barriers for the 1000 foot drops, and a well churned road.
Thêre was obviously a traction problem, and meant our driver kept going fôr 'fresh mud' at the side of the road... next to the drops, whether that 'fresh mud' was on the right side of the road or not. A 'racing line' had developed, and twice he stopped nose to nose with a large truck and then hung out the window to shout vietnamese at the other driver before cónceeding that his miníbus was no where the size of the truck and he should get out of their way.
Steve phoned Malcolm. 'Yes, he thinks it will take 15 hours, but thêre ís just him and his wife. I don't know if his wife drives, but if the roads don't get better, we want to stop for the night somewhere and carry on in daylight'
Phone ping pong happened for the nẽxt hour or two, and Mr Cheng (who it turned out had been very worried for us) arranged for us to stop in Son La (at least I think that was the name) and for another minibus to pick us up at 6am the next day (Sunday).
We got to the hotel at midnight, and had to pay the driver a combination of Dong and Dollars as we had run out. It wasn't as much as to take us all the ưay to Hanoi, and the driver was a bit irrate (Mr Cheng hadn't discussed a reduced fee ưith the driver on route for fear of his driving becoming even more erractic and dangerous), but accepted it and went on his way. After 6 hours sleep we ưere underway again, arriving in Hanoi at 1pm (303km the milestone in Son La told us).

Malcolm and Ian looked happy to see us - especially as they had been in the same clothes fôr the now third day (we had their bags).
Tales of loading the cars, particularly the crane that hoisted the crashed defender on board its own truck, but had to be mođified by lopping a bit off the back so it would fit (the truck, not the defender that is). By the time that truck turned up it was midday on Sunday, and the border guards where not happy to have a great bit crane, with a crashed defender dangling from it right outside their gate.
The other cars had been packed in the night around the corner, but a slight incident loading one of the discos damaged the ròof a bit and now it's probably not bêst to open the rear doors or boot (jerry cans on the ròof fouled the truck and bent it all up a bit).
As Paul Morris always says 'worse things happen at sea'

So Leg 4 are reunited in Hanoi.
The Transporters drove through around midday, so Leg 3 can now stop the clock.
Leg 4 is on day 1.... it feels like so many more.