After the thrills of Angkor Wat and with my tiger stripes fading fast, it was time to head onto our next country, Vietnam. The constant temple trekking and sapping heat in Cambodia had left us longing for some beach fringed coastline. So we headed for the very southern tip of Vietnam in search of Phu Quoc Island.

Crossing the border this time was surprisingly simple. We caught a bus to a Cambodian town near the border, and then hired some moto-taxis (it is what it sounds like) to take us the rest of the way. They took us the last few kilometers to a ramshackle hut, which doubled as Cambodian customs and then through to Vietnamese immigration. Here we were greeted by an official who asked us to fill out an arrival card (having pre-obtained our visas in Cambodia). Once the arrival cards were completed the official asked that we give him US$1. I still have no idea what this dollar was for, perhaps a smile. Having obliged, he quickly processed our passports and then we were back on the moto-taxis racing through the gate and into Vietnam.

After a night on the mainland we caught a ferry to Phu Quoc island (off the southern tip of Vietnam). Here we hired some motorbikes for $5/£3 per day. The bikes were a necessity for getting the most out of our stay. The island is made up of a myriad of red dirt roads which lead to many hidden beaches. However, some of the roads have been washed away by small rivers making for a very interesting ride…

Each beach, different from the last pressed us to keep exploring new parts of this beautiful island. Having grown up on the east coast of Australia we always had the setting sun in the back of our minds. Nothing can beat the sun setting over the ocean, and on Phu Quoc’s quiet coconut palm lined beaches it certainly didn’t disappoint. For this, I will let the pictures do the talking.

The following day, now addicted to two wheeled exploration we headed off again. On this day however, we discovered the pitfalls of the island roads. Racing down a red dirt road I hit possibly the largest, spikiest rock for a few kilometers. It lifted me into the air, and I landed with a twisted jolt on the uneasy surface. Clutching the brakes hard, the wheels locked up and skidded out of control. Searching for traction, my instincts kicked in and I put my feet down. This caused my thong to have a blow-out (for the English: my flip-flop had a blow-out. I hope I didn’t have you worried….) before I finally skidded to a stop.

Straight away I knew I had a flat tyre and with Joel burning dust into the distance I held my finger on the horn. Eventually, our friends riding with us that day Sophie and François heard my horn. To my relief they turned around, and finally so did Joel. So after assessing my now completely flat tyre, it was up to Joel to search for some help. I was stuck on the side of a dirt road in the middle of the rainforest just waiting. A few kilometers down the road Joel came across a collection of shacks. Quickly glancing through them one appeared to have alot of bike parts lying around and a man who looked like he knew his way around a motorbike. His english however, was non-existent. So Joel entered into a game of charades trying to explain that a bike down the dirt road has a flat tyre. From Joel’s description there was alot of pointing and hissing noises.

Finally it became apparent that the charades was pointless and the man had no idea what Joel was talking about. Luckily though, Sophie and François had a Vietnamese friend who we got on the phone and acted as translator. Within a couple of minutes the man was ready to go and Joel came back to collect me. From there I rode the bike very carefully for about 2km before arriving at the shack. Here the man quickly fixed the tyre, and within minutes we were riding into the sunset…