…cross the road?

Ho Chi Minh City has10 million people. And 6 million motor bikes. All of them, it seemed, were heading towards us.

We wanted to cross the road. Footsore and weary after the morning’s sightseeing in the blazing sun, we could see our goal – one of those chic, charming cafes, all French style and Vietnamese charm, cold drinks, warm welcome. So what was the problem?

Motor bikes, that’s what. Lots and lots of them. Here as elsewhere in Vietnam the motor cycle is the workhorse of transport. We saw one loaded with a ladder, loops of wires and a box of tools, another with a wardrobe, others with seemingly impossible quantities of flowers, of plastic boxes, of those mouth watering baguettes we couldn’t get enough of, of brooms and baskets. Taking your song bird to the park in the morning so for singing practice? Simple, load the cage onto your motor bike, and off you go.

And the people: little girl in school uniform, wedged, satchel on her back, between Dad and big brother. Three giggling students, mother and daughter in matching pink helmets, two men in black martial arts gear. We overheard another foreigner’s awed tone: ‘I saw a bike with a family of 5 on it yesterday…’ The central streets resonate with calls ‘you motobike you’, as drivers of the ubiquitous motorbike taxis, the ‘xe om’ (literal translation from Vietnamese is ‘hug vehicle’) tout for passengers.

Now, all of this is OK. After all, the city boasts wide streets, plenty of traffic lights, strategically placed zebra crossings. However, as we rapidly discovered, the lights and crossings and traffic signs appear to be, er, guidelines, rather than obligatory. Which brings me back to our roadside. And the sea of traffic between us and our destination. Cars, taxis, a few trucks, a tourist minibus, and that unending stream of motor bikes. Driving through red lights, down one-way streets the wrong way, turning (illegally) to right or left… We’d laughed when we heard about foreign tourists standing at the side of the road for an hour waiting to cross, then giving up, or booking a taxi to drive them to the other side of the street. Suddenly it didn’t seem so funny.

But…that café. That cold drink. And we’re at a crossing, surely that must mean something, and there are no cars or buses and look, there’s a local stepping out into the fray… What had we been told? ‘Let cars and buses go first. Take it slow and steady. Whatever you do, don’t change direction. And don’t stop. Whatever you do don’t stop. They aren’t deliberately targeting you, you know.’

So off we went. Deep breath, launch into the stream of bikes, steady now, hold your nerve. Eyes on the traffic, don’t flinch…and yes, the flow of motor bikes parts for you and then- then there we were! The other side of the road, unharmed. Ready for that drink…