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I came to Vietnam for the traffic. When I first visited five years ago, I fell in love with the extreme sport of crossing a street, stepping off the curb into a wave of oncoming wheels -- cars, trucks, mopeds and bicycles.

Green and red traffic lights are mere ornaments here. Moving at a steady, even pace toward the distant sidewalk is like swimming through a school of motorized fish; magically, as if Moses were directing traffic, the stream parts and flows around you.

The "Crossing the Road" section in Footprint's Vietnam Handbook suggests that the concept of abandoning responsibility for your own life and placing it in the hands of the masses "is the closest Vietnam has ever come to true communism."

In any case, I was back, and this time I would be joining the traffic. I figured that if I was going to perish in a collision of buffalo-drawn carts or get slammed by a dragon-fruit vendor, I might as well do it in luxury. So I signed up with Butterfield & Robinson, a Toronto-based walking and cycling outfitter, for an 11-day bicycle trip from Ho Chi Minh City to the northern capital of Hanoi. That's almost 1,600 kilometres, but we would be cycling along carefully selected routes in scenic and culturally rich areas, in between hopping up the long coast by plane and minivan.

Our group of 15 gathered and met our guides at 5 a.m. on a monsoonal morning in Ho Chi Minh City before flying to the hill station of Da Lat. Our head guide, Anh (rhymes with "mine"), was an unflappable Vietnamese who has been heading up B&R's Vietnam cycling trips for seven years. His sidekick was a perpetually cheerful, curly haired local named Tam.

By 10 a.m., in Da Lat, we were introduced to our bicycles: sleek imports made by Rocky Mountain in Delta, B.C. It was love at first gear change as we whizzed through pine and bamboo forests, where couples in full wedding regalia posed for photos, leaning against guardrails on precipitous curves.

The highland air was cool and dry as mopeds stacked high with bales of freshly cut roses and gladiolas overtook us. But as Da Lat has an elevation of about 1,500 metres, by the time we pulled into a farmhouse along the way for lunch, we were all gasping to catch our breath.

Lunch, as it would be most days, was simple yet delicious, with ingredients fresh from the morning market. There were squares of fried tofu stuffed with minced lemongrass, morsels of beef wrapped and grilled in local la-lot leaves, venison on sugar-cane skewers, barbecued tuna wrapped in banana leaves, and -- everyone's favourite -- sautéed morning glory, a water-grown vegetable similar to spinach. Half of us hailed from Canada, including our 36-year-old guide, Chris Hakes, a witty vagabond who lists his home address as a storage locker in Toronto.

At breakfast the next morning in the Da Lat Palace Hotel -- a French colonial enclave of claw-foot tubs and cathedral ceilings -- I confessed to a couple of travellers in my group, Toronto chartered accountant Cheryl Smith and B&R staffer Anne Zakula, my long-term addiction to café sua da.

Promptly, the two were also dripping Vietnamese espresso onto dollops of sweetened condensed milk. The mixture is then stirred, poured over ice and injected into the neurological system through a straw. Fuelled on iced coffee, I surged into my first roundabout, a type of road junction where traffic has to follow a curved course. Everyone jostled to merge or exit at various spokes on the asphalt wheel.

There were points along the route where we could mistakenly veer off toward Cambodia, but at each point, a member of an army of moped-riding local helpers employed exaggerated arm-swinging to help steer us in the right direction. As a geographically challenged female, I came to love those full-body semaphore guys.

The following day, we exercised our braking technique, tackling 24 kilometres of downhill switchbacks. We descended into the hot, humid coastal climate, where we would spend the rest of our trip.

Near Nha Trang, which is known for its beaches, we spent two nights, as we did at every location. At the decadent new Evason Hideaway spa, we each had our own butler, plunge pool and wine cellar in our beachside bungalow.

From nearby Cam Ranh Bay airport, we flew to Da Nang, stopping in the rain by the pounding surf of China Beach. We stayed 32 kilometres to the south, in the charming old world city of Hoi An, famous for its low, tiled-roof wooden architecture and narrow streets, where 6,000 tailors can whip up anything from made-to-measure suits to silk cocktail dresses in 12 hours or less.

Northward, in the old imperial city of Hue, we loaded our bikes onto small wooden boats and were shuttled across the Perfume River. We toured the Forbidden City, which was once home to Vietnamese royalty, and elaborate imperial tombs for emperors who had the time and stamina to entertain 500 concubines. Each morning, we covered an easy to moderate 22 to 52 kilometres, finishing up in early afternoon. We cycled atop levees between rice paddies, on cobblestone paths alongside canals and by fish farms, where flocks of ducks scattered upon our arrival.

We teetered, dead slow, through chaotic fish and vegetable markets and swerved around mushy speed bumps left by herds of cattle, which created frequent traffic jams. Riding through rural villages, everyone shouted in greeting as we passed, and sometimes entire schools and daycare centres emptied onto the roadside for students to wave. We induced everything from titters to guffaws with our pod-like helmets and spandex shorts, and our mutilations of the Vietnamese word for "hello": xin chao ("sin chow").

"If your tone inflects upwards at the end of chao instead of down, you're actually asking for a bowl of soup," Anh informed us, sharing one of the intricacies of his wickedly difficult six-tone language.

On our ninth day, we flew into Hanoi. If the feverish economic engine of Ho Chi Minh City is the country's Toronto, laid-back Hanoi would be its Montreal. Set around small Hoan Kiem Lake, it is an elegant city rich in culture and tradition.

We toured the old quarter by letting a driver do the pedalling for a change, in a cyclo, a type of buggy. We saw the sites at a shopping pace, but were disappointed that the grand Ho Chi Minh Mausoleum was closed. Apparently, Uncle Ho's embalmed body was getting its annual Moscow makeover.

One of B&R's trademarks is treating clients to cultural experiences they would otherwise never experience. One evening, we were served dinner in a private 1930s French villa in Da Lat.

Another night, in Hue, we traipsed blindly down a dark alleyway to arrive for dinner at the traditional home of a successful businessman and his wife, a princess. Their antique, wood-frame house was inlaid with shells and coated with a paint created from ant's wings, which made it termite-resistant.

Our last night in Hanoi was no exception. Long after it had closed its doors to the public, we were welcomed into the Museum of Natural History and given champagne and hors d'oeuvre as we toured the landmark at our leisure. Dinner was served in the courtyard under the stars.

But despite the culture, the food and the disgusting taste of a pick-me-up elixir made from geckos and seahorses, the most enduring memories of the trip will be cycling across the spectacular Vietnamese countryside, waving and shouting out to laughing locals to "please give me a bowl of soup!"

Pack your bags

GETTING THERE

Currently a visa is required for entry into Vietnam, but that is slated to change this year. Contact the Vietnam embassy in Ottawa for details by calling 613-236-1398 or visiting www.vietnamembassy-canada.ca/html/service.html.

WHEN TO GO

The best time to visit is October through March.

OUTFITTERS

Cathay Pacific Airways has daily connections to Ho Chi Minh City via Hong Kong from Vancouver and Toronto. Economy fares from Toronto are about $1,705 plus tax; from Vancouver, about $1,500 plus tax. Cathay Pacific also offers an All Asia pass for as low as $1,599 for on-line registrants (http://www.cathay.ca). The pass is valid for 21 days and allows travellers to explore more of the region.

Butterfield & Robinson offers a variety of packages, including cycling and walking trips. For the second year running, Vietnam has been among the company's most popular destinations, so it's wise to book early. Trips are 11 days and 10 nights, start in Ho Chi Minh City and terminate in Hanoi, and are all-inclusive except for international airfare. The cost is about $6,900 a person. For more information, visit http://www.butterfield.com or call 1-866-551-9090.