Randy’s Coif (and a few road stories)

Distance today: 57km
Total distance to date: 128km

View the stats on Strava

We saw an unassuming barber shop on the side of the road in the middle of nowhere. Just a l’il ol’ space where Randy thought he’d get a quick haircut and be he on his way, zippity zap fast. I mean afterall, what sort of coif can he really even expect? The well-coiffed-himself barber seemed enthusiastic and next thing you know he made a Project out of Randy’s hair. That hair virtuoso set about like Edward Scissorhands, sculpting his masterpiece out of Randy’s abundant hair. Scissors, comb, and clippers were a flyin’! We were both enormously impressed. I go wait outside—should just be a few minutes I’m sure. I peek in and he’s got a straight razor out, and having shaved Randy’s entire face, he’s now meticulously refining the hairline all around his forehead and I’m thinking this guy’s an artist! I return to my waiting spot outside and a short time later I hear Randy, sounding all vulnerable and scared “Anita! Come here—I think he’s cleaning ear wax out of my ears!” Lo ‘n behold, Mr. Hair Virtuoso has a 6-million lumens headlamp on his head, peering into Randy’s ear and what looks like a collection of dental-like instruments in front of him. He’s not only trimming ear hairs but Randy’s not leaving there with ear wax. Swish, scrape, poke, prod, repeat. His fight or flight response was activated and I think he might have been whimpering but won’t admit it. It’s a thing here in Vietnam when you get a proper haircut—don’t flinch! Cost of the Hair Project: $2.75 (plus he gave a $5 tip) Time spent on Project: 1-hour.

Back on the road—the Garmin navigational wizard took us down raised pathways in between rice paddies, along lumpy bumpy footpaths, and through tiny villages that time seems to have forgotten. Cows randomly graze and loiter at the sides of roads, including edges of rice paddies. Two big—pointy-horned bovines entitled themselves to a leisurely rest on both sides of the path we were travelling, too close for our comfort. Are they docile? Maybe. Maybe not. We did a U-turn.

While sitting roadside snacking, a young boy (11-years old) rode by us a few times on his bicycle. The third time he stopped in front of us. “Hello. what. is. your. name?” He asked. Very sweet. We could see he wanted to try out his learned English on those interesting looking foreigners. He rode away and reappeared minutes later “How. old. are. you?” We told him 58 and 63. “Ohhhh. You. are. very. old”. (Try not to laugh) We think he wanted to stay and look at us longer but didn’t know any more English questions to ask. As we were leaving he passed by us again with his baby sister on the back of his bike, likely wanting to show her, too, those foreigners.

PS: Randy thinks he can hear a little better now.

Pho. Fo breakfast.

The well-coiffed Hair Virtuoso

The unassuming barber shop in the middle of nowhere.