Travel blog: Easy Riders on the Ho Chi Minh Trail

Nick Claxton has never ventured outside of Europe before but a combination of too many years in London, a lack of proper responsibilities and an unhealthy admiration for Michael Palin now means he is spending a year travelling the globe. A terminally-disorganised 24-year-old taking on the world - solo. Here is his 23rd blog entry:

Mui Ne's brilliant sunshine faded behind us as our bus started to climb the languidly meandering roads towards Dalat in Vietnam's Central Highlands.

I was travelling up from the coast with Nik and Ciaran - two fellow Brits I'd first run into back in Malaysia. After meeting up again in Thailand and then in Phnom Penh, we'd somehow fallen into step on our travels around south-east Asia - at least partly due to a shared affinity for alcohol.

Happily, this meant I was getting to enjoy another side of backpacking.

Travelling in a group is really quite different from going solo - you naturally trade off a little freedom, but your shared experiences mean you become fast friends.

After months of hitting the road by myself for the vast majority of the time, to be honest I was glad of some company!

And as it turned out, if it hadn't been for these guys, I'd have passed up on something in Dalat which turned out to be my best experience in Vietnam by far…

Four hours down the road from Mui Ne, we were driving through jungle-covered mountain ranges accompanied by light rainfall and a refreshing breeze. It was all so reminiscent of Darjeeling and other lush areas in India's north - dramatic scenery, cool climate and a bit off the beaten track.

Since India tops my list of much-loved places so far, I could only hope Dalat would compare favourably!

As we neared town, the dense forest gave way to coffee plantations and the rain stepped up to a steady downpour.

We'd planned to scout around Dalat for accommodation after arriving, but we were enticed into taking a look around the guesthouse just across from the bus stop.

Thankfully, the Thang Long Guesthouse had some shared rooms on the top floor which were huge, with great views, and only $20 [£15] between the three of us - plus it also had the added bonus that we wouldn't get soaked by traipsing around town!

We unpacked and soon the rain let up and the clouds began to lift - unveiling a picturesque view from our tiny balcony of lush green slopes stretching off into the distance.

I dug out my jacket from the depths of my bag for the first time since Nepal and we headed out in search of a bite to eat before dark.

After some really good rice noodles at a little street restaurant up the street, we wandered down the hill to the lakeside to grab a few beers.

We'd become used to standing out, but I think three white guys from England were even more of a curiosity here.

I guess meandering walks through undulating hills, a peaceful atmosphere and some charming views naturally makes Dalat appealing to couples - most of the bar's clientele were Vietnamese honeymooners!

We weren't made to feel unwelcome, however. Even after Nik's slightly inebriated attempts at singing Celine Dion - that peculiar decision only made him unwelcome at our table…

As we made our way home a few hours later, we were accosted en-route by a man with a big grin, a bright blue jacket and excellent English who plunged into a well-rehearsed sales-pitch.

This was our first encounter with the Dalat Easy Riders. This group of motorbike guides offer tours around Dalat or as far as you'd like. You ride pillion and leave the driving to your guide who fills you in on all you need to know as you go.

Local tours are about US$30 to US$40 (£20-£25) and have proved a popular way for travellers to see the hills around Dalat.

However, this success has led to fake Easy Rider groups trying to cash in on their reputation while providing much worse service.

Wary of falling for a scam, I politely declined a one-day tour from the grinning man - I think his unimpressive spiel and unchanging smile made me doubt his authenticity.

But at breakfast the next morning we were approached by two more blue-jacketed chancers… who then turned out to be the real deal.

Kenny and Son had books full of positive recommendations from previous travellers but also showed us their Easy Rider registrations straight away - quelling my suspicions.

However, I still took some convincing. I didn't want to just drive around Dalat, so their suggested five-day tour up the Ho Chi Minh Trail to Hoi An looked fantastic. But I just wasn't sure it would be worth the $70-a-day fee.

Thankfully, Nik and Ciaran worked out the cost of travelling up there by bus - it would have been undoubtedly cheaper, but we'd miss out on so much by going via the coast.

So at 8.30am the next morning my bag and guitar were strapped to the back of a bike, I jumped on behind my Easy Rider guide Sang and our little convoy rolled out of Dalat towards the village of Lak.

The scenery en-route offered something more glorious after every curve and we also stopped off to taste fresh Vietnamese coffee, visit a silk factory and peek into the quiet villages of the montagnard hill-tribe.

We'd pass through a succession of different hill-tribes during our bike journey. These villages had been somewhat connected up to the rest of Vietnam by the road built along the Ho Chi Minh Trail after the war, but they retain their own customs, dialects and dress.

After maybe six hours gliding up and down hills - including numerous rest-breaks and picture-stops - we arrived in the M'Nong minority village of Lak which was built out over a large lake and surrounded by rice fields.

It immediately seemed a tranquil place. Dogs and pigs wandered through the village, fishermen cast hopefully into the lake, kids played in the streets, and a constant thump-thump-thump resounded from the rice-husking machines.

Our home for the night was one of the open-plan longhouses used by the villagers for everything from sleeping and eating to socialising.

These buildings reminded me of village huts in Cambodia which are similarly raised on stilts to avoid flood damage, while also providing shelter to the dogs and pigs that sleep underneath the floorboards.

After fantastic dinner of barbecued pork, noodles and rice, we got to know our guides a bit better over some cards, some beers and a few shots of Vietnamese rice wine known as ru¿u g¿o.

That stuff packs a bit of a kick - especially when teaching our guides drinking games. In return, they gave us a rousing Vietnamese singalong on the way home. Thankfully, Nik couldn't remember Celine Dion this time…

Nicolas Claxton