(In the absence of a camera, I have substituted thousands of rambling words for the few pretty pictures I would otherwise have taken. Aren’t you lucky!)

They have a saying in Phu Quoc:

“Maps, road signs, mirrors, indicators, right-of-way, helmets and speed limits are for pussies. Ain’t nobody got time for that!”

Okay – well they should have a saying like that in Phu Quoc.

Combine all those challenges with 100% humidity, a glaring sun and the constant threat of a tropical thunderstorm and the obvious plan is to walk to a nearby beach and relax, knowing you can retreat to the bar for a cold beer if it does get too hot or start raining.

So obviously I hired a bicycle ($5 for a brand new mountain bike for the day), packed an already-disintegrating map (which turned out to be a map of a *fantasy* island only vaguely similar to the real one I was actually trying to cycle around), a large water bottle, the trusty SPF-50 and several chocolate bars in the backpack and set off on a mini-adventure.

I had no real plan when I set off but thought I’d follow the main road up the coast and head to a nice beach where I could relax for a while. Unfortunately my map had either been created sometime in the last century or by an extremely lazy cartographer, with only about 10% of the roads shown on map. Almost inevitably then as I confidently found the main coastal road and pedalled happily along I found the traffic thinning out. Then the tarmac stopped. Then the road turned into a dirt track. Then the dirt turned into a sand path winding between clumps of trees. Some would argue I was a bit slow on the uptake but at this point I decided this probably wasn’t the main coastal road and turned back.

After this 30 minute detour, I was back on a main road and even worked out which main road it was. For about an hour I cycled along a new, almost deserted dual-carriageway with a lovely wide shoulder for me which took me away from the busyness of Duong Dong and carved its way between dense forests sprinkled with pepper farms (see what I did there? Sprinkled…pepper. I’m a literary genius!). The only other cyclists were children in school uniform – inevitably chatting away as they casually cycled the wrong way down the fast lane of the dual-carriageway.

By the time I reached my turn-off, the water in my water bottle had already made it through my body, out my over-worked pores and spread itself throughout my clothing. I stopped at a roadside cafe for a coke and a plate of spring rolls. Here I befriended a very cute little shaggy dog who I named ‘Gus’ (I think the cafe owner just called him ‘Dinner’…).

The next stretch was a 20km dirt track winding its way through the forest, criss-crossing streams and rivers, all the way to the NE corner of the island. I was in a pretty remote are now – there were no houses or people about and I only passed a handful of motorbikes coming the other way the whole time. All around me the noise of the forest buzzed and hummed in the sweltering heat. At one point a large monkey dashed across the road just in front of me. I was vaguely aware that this would be a terrible place to have a puncture. Exhausted and with sweat pouring out of me now I took to stopping at every other km marker for alternatively water or a chocolate bar.

When I reached the other coastal road I looked a bit of a state. As I examined my sodden, tattered map a woman came over babbling away in Vietnamese, looking at my damp, filthy clothes. Presumably she thought I’d been lost in the jungle for several days. She directed me to another little shop where I bought more water and a Sprite. I was ushered to a chair where I awkwardly dripped sweat over everything while being watched by 3 or 4 curious locals.

The main road back into town was long but mercifully flat. The ‘fun factor’ was now provided by the construction traffic – huge monstrous trucks blasting their horns and thundering by every minute. There is so much development work going on here – they’re in the process of turning the whole island into a huge tourist resort. It was great to be here while its still fairly quiet – I shudder to think what it will be like in 10 years time.

But the construction trucks weren’t the biggest scare on this road. I was whizzing along a quiet downhill stretch. All of a sudden out of the corner of my eye I spotted something huge and leafy emerge from the trees beside the road up ahead. It started moving across the road towards me, carrying a large machete! My first reaction was ‘OMG its some sort of Tree Monster!’ – no joke, I was terrified. It was about a 7ft tall mass of leaves and branches, with the machete blade sticking out in front. And it was coming right at me! I slammed on my brakes and swerved round the Monster. Of course at this point the man carrying the pyramid of palm branches turned and gave me a cheery smile and a wave of his blade.

(I did eventually find the beach I’d originally been heading for, but it was high tide with just a strip of about 50cm of sand left *sigh*)

About six hours after setting off I was back in Duong Dong. Cycle touring tradition dictates that at this point in a ride it is essential to stop for ice cream. Its just ‘the done thing’. Who am I to argue with tradition? So, I located the famous ‘Buddys Ice Cream’ cafe on the scraps of map I still had left and with a second wind, rode excitedly to the cafe. Except it wasn’t there. After riding around all the neighbouring streets twice and asking four times for directions (side note: trying to mime licking an ice cream to a Vietnamese woman is somewhat awkward…) I discovered it was nowhere near where it was on the map (I should have known!). 30 minutes later, full of double chocolate and vanilla (inexplicably they didn’t have Hazelnut flavour aka The Best Ice Cream Flavour) I dropped off the bike at the rental place and staggered back to the hostel.

The End.