A rollercoaster to a waterfall? What a good idea.

This morning it was cold. I mean about 15 degrees and it was raining. How unfair. I had put off my motorbike riding on a perfectly sunny day and now just one day later the weather had turned.

I was grossly unprepared, I have no cold weather clothes. So I put on almost my entire watdrobe in strategic layers, and finished off my stylish look with a gigantic green see-through raiproof poncho. Nice.

After trying out a couple of rundown motorbikes, I selected one which started OK but later, I would find, had a broken speedometer and fuel gauge and would cause more problems to come.

Off I set.

On todays agenda was locating the tourist office that was holding my passport with a freshly approved visa extension within. After numerous attempts to find this elusive office, including a helpful local who pointed in three directions and said they would all take me there, I found the street. It was number 4. Easy. Actually, every building on this long and winding street was numbered either 4, 5, 6, and 7 with an occasional letter attached (A, B, C, D and even an E). Just as I was giving up to ask at a hotel their it appeared like magic. Unfortunately my passport had not arrived yet, though I had already given them an extra day. 'Later, later' he said nonchalantly but as I left to go I noticed him making some frantic calls.

I headed out to explore the countryside. Next was a little waterfall called Datlana, jsut 5 km from town. As I veered into the parking area I noticed the car park was filled with many large pink tourist buses. The closer I got to the entrance the more I realised this was a number one destination for vietnamese tourists. Dalat is very popular with Honeymooners and so it seems vietnamese holiday makers in general. I wa the only white foreigner and i stuck out with my hideous wardrobe and messy hair. The place was swarming with activity. After finding the ticket booth, a basket shaped statue that did not look like a ticket office, I stepped into a wonderful and strange theme park world. Kids were screaming and yelling out 'hello' to me as I passed, parents tried ineffectually to control them. Excitement was in th eaor.

I love waterfalls too but why were the kids so excited? That question was soon answered when I stumbled upon a rollercoaster, self-driven that can take you directly to the falls. I was there, pushing and shoving the kids as they were me. I finally sat in my own little caboose and set off. Sadly I was directly behind an old couple who crawled at a snails pace down the would-be thrilling ride. Every time I stopped to clear some space for a big run-up someone would yell at me to go or one of the many officials would blow his whistle at me. Killjoys.

Once at the watrefalls a million kids ran to and fro. Couples with their own personal photographer would angle for a shot of them and the waterfall minus anyone else. Impossible. A man dressed as a cowboy stood holding a white horse for photos- of you pay of course, a man/woman in a bear costume almost camouflaged in the rocks posed with people for photos. You could hire minority costumes and pose on the wooden bridge with fake flowers. And the gift shops were everywhere and to top it off they were playing Britney Spears. Oh Meka, if only you were there. I wanted to jump up and down with excitement. This was Vietnamese kitsch at its best. The falls were quite nice too.

Next was a little village known for its gigantic chicken statue, well, it WAS on the way. How could I not? I made it down a long and windy hill but could not find the village and fearing it would start to rain heavily I turned back. I was right, half way up the hill it started pouring. If other bike riders were not already wearing a poncho, they pulled over and put one on. Cars and buses tore past me bleeping and honking in the rain with their musical horns pushing me onto the very side of the road. A little later my bike started to wobble dangerously along the road and I had to slow down to a crawl. Occasionally I would stop and examine my bike like I knew what I was looking for but could see no problem. I made it back to Dalat slowly and wetly (yes, that is a word) and cruised down the main road until I spotted a bike mechanic. In ten minutes flat and for just 50 cents he diagnosed and fixed the puncture. I was on my way. I tipped him for his amazingly speedy work. He was pleased. I was pleased.

I then wanted to find the 'Valley of Love' or even 'The Lake Of Sighs' as I knew this would provide me with some more unique Vietnamese kookiness but my map didn't cover the area so I just cruised around the streets looking at things and avoiding traffic accidents. I thought I was getting close to one of these sights but quickly realised while setting off to the north, I was returning from the south. I had somehow circumnavigated Dalat and was back to almost exactly where I started- damn these curvy streets. I had some lunch and returned to the tourist office requesting my passport. 'Not here yet' he kindly explained, 'The man in Mui Ne, he make mistake, he not send it'. Great. I asked them to send it to Saigon. I really hope it will be there to meet me or I am in some trouble...