Rain and Fog

The call of the road, that's the true thing. 

You feel the shiver of the departure when you start your motorbike in the morning.

Everything is still covered with dew,

the tent is a bit wet,

cows wake you up,

you surface and in two minutes you're driving in surrounded by mountains and paddy fields.

The call of the rain, it's a bit harder.

You feel the cold water going right through your clothes while you're driving your motorbike in the morning.

Your shoes are still soaked from the day before and are making weird noises when you walk,

your clothes have a rate of 100% humidity.

There's more water than cotton in your underpants,

your hands are numb,

you prefer not to think of the moment you'll have to pitch the tent in the mud.

The call of the bus, it's a bit more dangerous.

You don't really hear it coming and it appears suddenly in front of you, honking and overtake in a bend on a mountain road.

You don't really fool around when you're stuck between two trucks on a slippery road, neither when you're driving in the fog in a mountain where there is certainly oxes crossing the road just for fun.

We've seen death, but it's ok.

We've been close to it...still ok.

We caressed it...it was sexy.

After that we were friends and came closer.

Finally she's not really good company so we ran away !

 

We stopped our engines at Da Nang and unwillingly sold Loraine and Le Tavernier, then we took the night bus to Saigon.

Dear Honda Dream II, we won't forget you ! We'll think about you next week, when we'll be around Darwin, Australia to look for new companions with wheels (or turborocket).