CYCLE THE TOWPATHS

Cycle along the jungle trails, breezy waterside paths and lime-green rice paddies of V ietnam’s famed Mekong Delta for a ( mostly) tranquil two-wheeled tour

Following a dirt road beside a canal for as long as my bicycle can handle the rutted track, I wind deeper into the dense jungle until the path is almost invisible in the long grass. Amplified K-Pop music floats out through the thick leaves as I continue — now walking, pushing the bike beside me — until I come across a bemused farmer drinking a Bia Saigon lager beneath a palm tree. He points over my shoulder to a gap in the foliage and I plough towards it, eventually tumbling out of the undergrowth onto a tarmac road at a busy Mekong-side market. The shoppers regard me with surprise.

My cycle trip across the Mekong Delta began in in Ha Tien, a busy town on Vietnam’s southwestern border with Cambodia. I’d been glad to escape from the bustle into the lime-green rice paddies, making my way along a quiet highway to the serene, pretty village of Tri Ton where forested hills rise up out of the fields to obscure the horizon.

I hadn’t had high hopes of finding accommodation in Tri Ton, but it soon becomes apparent that the village is full of small homestays. A‡er selecting one I’m promptly given the wi-fi password — on the condition that I immediately Skype my parents to say hello.

My next destination is the touristy town Can Tho. I’d been advised to plot a route on Google Maps to avoid the traŠc, and am soon veering o‹ the highway, cycling along bumpy dirt tracks through quiet, humid villages, stopping only to buy bags of sugar cane juice from street vendors and drinking them in the shade of palm trees.

Late in the evening, I reach my destination: a homestay set in a cocoa plantation on the fringes of Can Tho. Wandering through the gardens, I inhale in the smell of chocolate on the evening breeze.

Come morning, it’s time to set out north for Tra Vinh, passing the famed Can Tho Market, riding through dragon fruit plantations and crossing tiny canals on rickety local ferries. The roads are largely empty, barring the odd scooter, and are overhung by palms growing in thick clusters. It’s a peaceful scene, and one that feels far removed from the busy, bustling roads

I’d been warned about encountering in Vietnam. The route takes me along quiet canal paths, through sleepy villages and past tranquil temples and busy street food stalls. I bask in the slow pace of Mekong life, spotting children paddling in the water and old men smoking cigarettes in the shade.

Soon, however, I’m back on the Ho Chi Minh Highway. The trucks and HGVs flying past are a warning that I’m almost at the city and, like the rowing boats and scooters around me, I’m forced to slow down. I end up making an unplanned stay in My Tho, a rapidly developing town on the outskirts of Saigon, happily soaking up one more night of river life before pedalling into the city.

Vietnamese women cycling along the Mekong Delta