Oscar 8
US Special Forces suffered a devastating defeat while attacking an NVA base deep inside Laos
- TV Appearances
Top Gear Vietnam Special: Behind the Scenes
Top Gear Hits Ho Chi Minh City
The initial plan for the Special was for the presenters to buy three second-hand cars in Saigon and then ride them into Cambodia and back to Vietnam. I was friends with the fixer and helped him scout the route in early 2008. The producers eventually decided to use motorbikes because Vietnam’s import/export laws were too complicated. I sold them the idea of using our 650cc Ural motorcycles. Three Urals were prepped so the camera operators and sound guys could sit backwards and film the presenters no matter how busy the traffic was.
Once on board, I was asked to do more jobs, like buying a Honda and a Minsk and making the bikes floatable/drivable on water. We spent about a month designing a way for the Minsk and Honda to ride on the ocean. If you want to see how we made the bike boats, have a look at this.
The shoot started at the beginning of October 2008 in Ho Chi Minh City. While driving from the airport to the Sheraton Hotel, I got a call that Jeremy Clarkson wanted his Vespa to have many mirrors like a London Mod from the movie “Quadrophenia”. I bought what I could, and then Diep, my mechanic, worked all night welding the mirrors to the Vespa. He had no welding glasses or protection, and his eyes were painfully red for three days. Members of the UK crew refused the job, citing safety regulations.
I entered the Sheraton and saw Jeremy drinking alone at the bar. I shared a room with Nick, the fixer. He showed me the three shoe boxes full of Vietnamese money that had been used that day for filming purposes. It rained heavily all night, worrying the crew because cyclones typically hit central Vietnam in October.
The following day, the presenter’s bikes were placed on the curb at the end of a park in front of the mayor’s office on Le Thanh Ton Street. Nick and I stood to the side with our Urals. The presenters appeared wearing helmets made from buckets and colanders. Underneath were actual helmets. Jeremy had trouble starting his Vespa but was helped by a Swedish girl he’d met at the bar the night before. Eventually, he did a practice lap around the park and looked very unstable. The girl said, “He’s gonna fucking die”.
The main cameraman jumped on my bike, so I rode in front of Jeremy while we got out of town. For the rest of the shoot, I rode with Jeremy and became pretty tolerant of his antics. I must emphasise that he did pretty well, considering how manic the traffic was. The guy had balls to pull off the ride; the traffic was insane, he was a complete beginner, and his Vespa rode like shit. I buffered the traffic to make it slightly safer for him, but there was every chance something could have gone wrong right from the get-go.
The presenters drove out of Ho Chi Minh City through heavy traffic. Jeremy stalled at one intersection, and it was dangerous. He was scared, and the Vespa was an unstable bike for a newcomer to ride in traffic. Jeremy was like a bear on a tricycle. It was lucky he did not crash. They drove about 15 kilometres down the main highway out of town and then regrouped for drinks and snacks. About eight support vans followed the presenters while a truck carried the motorbikes when needed.
To the presenters’ credit, they continued on the main highway towards Dalat, which they naively thought they could get to in one day. The Vespa kept on shorting out, and the back wheel wobbled. As a riding novice, Jeremy did not know anything was wrong. The truth was that the back wheel was about to fall off because the producers refused to spend more than US$400 on the Vespa.
Jeremy’s Vespa was wobbly. He complained a lot, but I kept my mouth shut. I could not accelerate too much; otherwise, the cameraman could fall off the bike. We all stopped at a petrol station. Richard and James ate at a restaurant across the road while Jeremy ate at a road stall near the petrol station. I was reading a book. Jeremy asked me to order some food, so I got him fried noodles with beef. Jeremy made a joke that it was dog meat, not beef.
Once on board, I was asked to do more jobs, like buying a Honda and a Minsk and making the bikes floatable/drivable on water. We spent about a month designing a way for the Minsk and Honda to ride on the ocean. If you want to see how we made the bike boats, have a look at this.
The shoot started at the beginning of October 2008 in Ho Chi Minh City. While driving from the airport to the Sheraton Hotel, I got a call that Jeremy Clarkson wanted his Vespa to have many mirrors like a London Mod from the movie “Quadrophenia”. I bought what I could, and then Diep, my mechanic, worked all night welding the mirrors to the Vespa. He had no welding glasses or protection, and his eyes were painfully red for three days. Members of the UK crew refused the job, citing safety regulations.
I entered the Sheraton and saw Jeremy drinking alone at the bar. I shared a room with Nick, the fixer. He showed me the three shoe boxes full of Vietnamese money that had been used that day for filming purposes. It rained heavily all night, worrying the crew because cyclones typically hit central Vietnam in October.
The following day, the presenter’s bikes were placed on the curb at the end of a park in front of the mayor’s office on Le Thanh Ton Street. Nick and I stood to the side with our Urals. The presenters appeared wearing helmets made from buckets and colanders. Underneath were actual helmets. Jeremy had trouble starting his Vespa but was helped by a Swedish girl he’d met at the bar the night before. Eventually, he did a practice lap around the park and looked very unstable. The girl said, “He’s gonna fucking die”.
The main cameraman jumped on my bike, so I rode in front of Jeremy while we got out of town. For the rest of the shoot, I rode with Jeremy and became pretty tolerant of his antics. I must emphasise that he did pretty well, considering how manic the traffic was. The guy had balls to pull off the ride; the traffic was insane, he was a complete beginner, and his Vespa rode like shit. I buffered the traffic to make it slightly safer for him, but there was every chance something could have gone wrong right from the get-go.
The presenters drove out of Ho Chi Minh City through heavy traffic. Jeremy stalled at one intersection, and it was dangerous. He was scared, and the Vespa was an unstable bike for a newcomer to ride in traffic. Jeremy was like a bear on a tricycle. It was lucky he did not crash. They drove about 15 kilometres down the main highway out of town and then regrouped for drinks and snacks. About eight support vans followed the presenters while a truck carried the motorbikes when needed.
To the presenters’ credit, they continued on the main highway towards Dalat, which they naively thought they could get to in one day. The Vespa kept on shorting out, and the back wheel wobbled. As a riding novice, Jeremy did not know anything was wrong. The truth was that the back wheel was about to fall off because the producers refused to spend more than US$400 on the Vespa.
Jeremy’s Vespa was wobbly. He complained a lot, but I kept my mouth shut. I could not accelerate too much; otherwise, the cameraman could fall off the bike. We all stopped at a petrol station. Richard and James ate at a restaurant across the road while Jeremy ate at a road stall near the petrol station. I was reading a book. Jeremy asked me to order some food, so I got him fried noodles with beef. Jeremy made a joke that it was dog meat, not beef.
Jeremy Clarkson's Vespa Almost Kills Him
To their horror, the mechanics checked Jeremy’s Vespa at the gas station and realised the back wheel was about to fall off. The thread on the main engine shaft was 95% shredded and could not be replaced. We had a spare engine, but it was a modern 12-volt version, not a 6-volt version appropriate for the older Vespa Jeremy was driving. There were three mechanics, one a Vespa expert, but they all had difficulty swapping the engine and getting the rewiring right. The man who sold the Vespa warned them the bike was rubbish and offered them a safer but more expensive version, but Top Gear insisted on using the cheaper one because it fell within their US$400-per-bike budget. It was all touch and go. Filming was on hold. Luckily, they got the Vespa to work, just.
I rode in front of Jeremy for the afternoon in heavy traffic towards Dalat. The Vespa started to short out due to the voltage irregularities, and wires began to burn. This happened time and time again, putting the whole schedule on tenterhooks. Jeremy wasn’t happy. At dusk, the bikes were loaded on the truck, the crew got in the support vans, and we all drove 150 km to Dalat, arriving there around 10 p.m. without having dinner. The presenters rode a short distance into Dalat to make it look like they had ridden the entire route.
The snake restaurant prepared food for the crew but was too exotic (sparrows, eels, congealed blood, that kind of thing). Instead we all pounded beers while the snake was cooked. Filming the snake scene continued well past midnight, and further filming on the bikes ended around 1 a.m. We limped into the hotel around 2 a.m. I helped a very polite James find his bag. It was becoming apparent that everyone earned their keep and was prepared to put in very long hours.
The following morning, I was asked to buy a pink helmet for Richard because Jeremy had squashed his original army helmet. The Vietnamese minders were unhappy because the army helmet was manufactured by a company owned by the Vietnamese Prime Minister’s son. They filmed this sequence in front of the hotel. We then jumped in the vans and headed to an abandoned airport to film the sequence with the Vietnamese Stig.
I rode in front of Jeremy for the afternoon in heavy traffic towards Dalat. The Vespa started to short out due to the voltage irregularities, and wires began to burn. This happened time and time again, putting the whole schedule on tenterhooks. Jeremy wasn’t happy. At dusk, the bikes were loaded on the truck, the crew got in the support vans, and we all drove 150 km to Dalat, arriving there around 10 p.m. without having dinner. The presenters rode a short distance into Dalat to make it look like they had ridden the entire route.
The snake restaurant prepared food for the crew but was too exotic (sparrows, eels, congealed blood, that kind of thing). Instead we all pounded beers while the snake was cooked. Filming the snake scene continued well past midnight, and further filming on the bikes ended around 1 a.m. We limped into the hotel around 2 a.m. I helped a very polite James find his bag. It was becoming apparent that everyone earned their keep and was prepared to put in very long hours.
The following morning, I was asked to buy a pink helmet for Richard because Jeremy had squashed his original army helmet. The Vietnamese minders were unhappy because the army helmet was manufactured by a company owned by the Vietnamese Prime Minister’s son. They filmed this sequence in front of the hotel. We then jumped in the vans and headed to an abandoned airport to film the sequence with the Vietnamese Stig.
The STIG Cut from Final Edit
The vans and truck headed out to a nearby abandoned airfield to film an entire segment that never made it to the final cut. Before the shoot, Explore Indochina was asked to find a 5’8” person to be the “Communist Stig”. One of our team fitted the bill, but we were told he had to ride wheelies. Top Gear then shipped in an Aussie kid famous on YouTube for motocross stunts. They dressed him as the Stig and put him on a powerful Honda dirt bike. They set up a basic obstacle course to see which bike was the fastest. After completing the course, the Stig would race towards one of the presenters, skid and stop as close as possible to their crotch. The Vietnamese minders said this was too dangerous. Jeremy grumbled because it was his idea. The whole scene was pointless because the Minsk was much faster than the 50cc Honda, and none of the bikes could skid. The poor kid no doubt told all his friends he was the Stig, only to have the scene cut.
Meanwhile, clouds were beginning to fill the horizon. Again, there was no lunch, and now the van drivers were angry. Later that night, they threatened to leave the shoot.
The presenters got on their bikes and headed out to Nha Trang. I drove with Richard. It started to rain very heavily so I bought him a raincoat. It was cold, and Richard’s sparkplug cap got wet. I quickly fixed it but then got lost in the complicated streets of Dalat. We eventually regrouped outside Dalat in heavy rain and continued through the pine forest down towards Nha Trang. Jeremy and James were very wet and cold. They wore no rain gear and stopped at a roadside shop to dry off. I noticed a clutch cable on the Minsk was about to break, so I asked a local mechanic to fix it. The producers decided to introduce the little 49cc Chaly scooter with an American flag on the tank. It also came with two US flags, an Easy Rider helmet with a US flag painted on it, and a speaker system which played Bruce Springsteen’s “Born in the USA”. The Vietnamese minders did not let them use the US flags. From now on, Diep, my mechanic, would follow the presenters on the Chaly, and if any of the presenters had further bike problems, they would have to ride the Chaly. I still have the Easy Rider USA helmet, the Honda Cub and the pink Minsk at home in Hanoi.
We headed off towards Nha Trang at sunset. The road was very scenic, with a long pass down to the coast. Jeremy’s Vespa had feeble lights, partly due to the electrical problems and all the silly Quaddaphenia mirrors blocking it. He strapped a torch to his Vespa, but it was perilous. Surprisingly, the presenters bravely drove their bikes about 80 km in the dark to Nha Trang, with no filming, which was dangerous. Luckily, it warmed up as they got close to the coast. The cameras only came out for quick shots in Nha Trang’s streets. They reached Nha Trang around 9.30 pm and went straight to the Beach Club to shoot the scene where Jeremy gave Richard a large wooden sailing ship.
Many foreign tourists were drinking at the club, and they were all told to keep silent and stay back beyond a perimeter. I was back at the hotel, two streets from the Beach Club, talking to the executive producer, Andy Wilman. It was around midnight when the film crew, tired and hungry, started returning from the Beach Club. In the confusion, understandable at the end of such a long and tiring day, Jeremy was left behind and mobbed by the tourists. He had trouble finding the hotel, and when he finally returned, it was just him, myself and Andy in the hotel’s foyer. He was pissed off and went straight up to Andy and shouted, “You care more about the crew than me. I’m out of here, you cunt”. Then Jeremy spat in Andy’s direction and stormed into the elevator. Andy was stunned and turned to me and said he’d been Jeremy’s best man twice. It had been an extremely long day.
The next morning, everyone took an early flight to Danang. In the final cut, the presenters are depicted riding to Hoi An, but this was neither true nor feasible. The van drivers were fed up and left back to Saigon while the truck carried the bikes to Hoi An. At the airport bookstore were some photocopied bootleg books written by Jeremy. I showed one to him, who said he’d already read it, so I quipped that I’d heard it wasn’t terrific. On the plane, I sat next to some Dutch girls and told them what was happening and where we would probably have dinner that night.
Meanwhile, clouds were beginning to fill the horizon. Again, there was no lunch, and now the van drivers were angry. Later that night, they threatened to leave the shoot.
The presenters got on their bikes and headed out to Nha Trang. I drove with Richard. It started to rain very heavily so I bought him a raincoat. It was cold, and Richard’s sparkplug cap got wet. I quickly fixed it but then got lost in the complicated streets of Dalat. We eventually regrouped outside Dalat in heavy rain and continued through the pine forest down towards Nha Trang. Jeremy and James were very wet and cold. They wore no rain gear and stopped at a roadside shop to dry off. I noticed a clutch cable on the Minsk was about to break, so I asked a local mechanic to fix it. The producers decided to introduce the little 49cc Chaly scooter with an American flag on the tank. It also came with two US flags, an Easy Rider helmet with a US flag painted on it, and a speaker system which played Bruce Springsteen’s “Born in the USA”. The Vietnamese minders did not let them use the US flags. From now on, Diep, my mechanic, would follow the presenters on the Chaly, and if any of the presenters had further bike problems, they would have to ride the Chaly. I still have the Easy Rider USA helmet, the Honda Cub and the pink Minsk at home in Hanoi.
We headed off towards Nha Trang at sunset. The road was very scenic, with a long pass down to the coast. Jeremy’s Vespa had feeble lights, partly due to the electrical problems and all the silly Quaddaphenia mirrors blocking it. He strapped a torch to his Vespa, but it was perilous. Surprisingly, the presenters bravely drove their bikes about 80 km in the dark to Nha Trang, with no filming, which was dangerous. Luckily, it warmed up as they got close to the coast. The cameras only came out for quick shots in Nha Trang’s streets. They reached Nha Trang around 9.30 pm and went straight to the Beach Club to shoot the scene where Jeremy gave Richard a large wooden sailing ship.
Many foreign tourists were drinking at the club, and they were all told to keep silent and stay back beyond a perimeter. I was back at the hotel, two streets from the Beach Club, talking to the executive producer, Andy Wilman. It was around midnight when the film crew, tired and hungry, started returning from the Beach Club. In the confusion, understandable at the end of such a long and tiring day, Jeremy was left behind and mobbed by the tourists. He had trouble finding the hotel, and when he finally returned, it was just him, myself and Andy in the hotel’s foyer. He was pissed off and went straight up to Andy and shouted, “You care more about the crew than me. I’m out of here, you cunt”. Then Jeremy spat in Andy’s direction and stormed into the elevator. Andy was stunned and turned to me and said he’d been Jeremy’s best man twice. It had been an extremely long day.
The next morning, everyone took an early flight to Danang. In the final cut, the presenters are depicted riding to Hoi An, but this was neither true nor feasible. The van drivers were fed up and left back to Saigon while the truck carried the bikes to Hoi An. At the airport bookstore were some photocopied bootleg books written by Jeremy. I showed one to him, who said he’d already read it, so I quipped that I’d heard it wasn’t terrific. On the plane, I sat next to some Dutch girls and told them what was happening and where we would probably have dinner that night.
Fun in Hoi An
Once in Danang, the entire crew went straight to a costly US$90 p/p breakfast paid for by Jeremy at the 5-star Anam Resort. This was payback for all the missed lunches. Jeremy’s credit card bounced because it was October 8, the day of the Great Financial Crisis. Richard quipped that he was debt-free, having just paid off his castle.
The presenters went into Hoi An to shoot the scene where they got tailor-made clothes while I was sent to buy pink spray paint. I showed Andy and Jeremy the videos of Explore Indochina making the Minsk and Honda ‘drivable’ on water. They were clearly excited, realising they could film a far more ambitious shoot in Ha Long Bay than their original plan. They called in a man from the UK, whom we nicknamed “Mr Wolf”, whose job was ensuring the amphibious craft were safe and seaworthy. He arrived in Hanoi a day or two later with $6K in cash and special foam that would make every craft unsinkable. I asked a friend, Markus Madeja to build a paddle-wheel craft capable of carrying Jeremy’s Vespa.
In the afternoon, we all headed to the beach in front of the Anam Resort, where Richard and James rode in the sand while Jeremy had a massage. I washed the seawater off the Minsk, causing something important in the generator to burn out. This meant Richard arrived late in Hoi An, where the producers had paid the town council US$3K to put on a floating lantern show, something only normally done on the full moon. Jeremy and James were able to enjoy it while paid musicians played in the background, but Richard, just a little late, was not allowed over a bridge by a security guard. There was much swearing, and someone said, ‘Just bribe the little cunt’, clearly audible on the walkie-talkies. Many tourists gravitating towards the presenters heard it, and there was a quick order for radio silence.
We all had dinner off-camera at the Cargo Club. The two Dutch girls from the plane turned up, ignored me and went straight to Jeremy, laughing at every joke he told. Richard confided that getting famous was fun, but being famous was not. As the shoot progressed, this became a recurring feature.
The presenters went into Hoi An to shoot the scene where they got tailor-made clothes while I was sent to buy pink spray paint. I showed Andy and Jeremy the videos of Explore Indochina making the Minsk and Honda ‘drivable’ on water. They were clearly excited, realising they could film a far more ambitious shoot in Ha Long Bay than their original plan. They called in a man from the UK, whom we nicknamed “Mr Wolf”, whose job was ensuring the amphibious craft were safe and seaworthy. He arrived in Hanoi a day or two later with $6K in cash and special foam that would make every craft unsinkable. I asked a friend, Markus Madeja to build a paddle-wheel craft capable of carrying Jeremy’s Vespa.
In the afternoon, we all headed to the beach in front of the Anam Resort, where Richard and James rode in the sand while Jeremy had a massage. I washed the seawater off the Minsk, causing something important in the generator to burn out. This meant Richard arrived late in Hoi An, where the producers had paid the town council US$3K to put on a floating lantern show, something only normally done on the full moon. Jeremy and James were able to enjoy it while paid musicians played in the background, but Richard, just a little late, was not allowed over a bridge by a security guard. There was much swearing, and someone said, ‘Just bribe the little cunt’, clearly audible on the walkie-talkies. Many tourists gravitating towards the presenters heard it, and there was a quick order for radio silence.
We all had dinner off-camera at the Cargo Club. The two Dutch girls from the plane turned up, ignored me and went straight to Jeremy, laughing at every joke he told. Richard confided that getting famous was fun, but being famous was not. As the shoot progressed, this became a recurring feature.
Hitting the Hai Van Pass
The following day, the presenters wore their new tailored clothes, and everyone headed to the Hai Van Pass. I saw firsthand how the general public acts when seeing celebrities. Every tourist bus we passed contained waiving people pressed to the glass taking photos. I began to realise that being famous was not all it was scratched up to be. Fortunately, the presenters were unknown to the Vietnamese public, so they had an enjoyable time being invisible for once, except on that road out of Hoi An.
While riding to the Ha Van Pass, Richard really did drive his bike too close to a rubbish bin on purpose, and it was lucky the wooden galley strapped to his Minsk absorbed the force and did not cause a nasty crash. I enjoyed telling Jeremy to “slow the fuck down” as he raced towards the pass. My safety concerns fell on Richard’s deaf ears when he purposely crashed into a sign at a toll gate.
Fortunately, the Hai Van Pass was very quiet in those days, allowing the crew to efficiently place four cameras in different locations, allowing just one up-and-back drive by the presenters to look like eight different drives. They filmed these drive-buys a couple of times. Food was finally getting organised properly, so we all enjoyed boxed lunches on the pass while the Vespa once again broke down.
While riding to the Ha Van Pass, Richard really did drive his bike too close to a rubbish bin on purpose, and it was lucky the wooden galley strapped to his Minsk absorbed the force and did not cause a nasty crash. I enjoyed telling Jeremy to “slow the fuck down” as he raced towards the pass. My safety concerns fell on Richard’s deaf ears when he purposely crashed into a sign at a toll gate.
Fortunately, the Hai Van Pass was very quiet in those days, allowing the crew to efficiently place four cameras in different locations, allowing just one up-and-back drive by the presenters to look like eight different drives. They filmed these drive-buys a couple of times. Food was finally getting organised properly, so we all enjoyed boxed lunches on the pass while the Vespa once again broke down.
Painting the Pink Minsk in Hue
Once on the other side of the Hai Van Pass, the bikes were put into a truck, and we all headed to Hue, where we stayed at the Morin Hotel. James and Jeremy were drinking heartily at a small restaurant opposite the hotel, waiting for the Minsk to arrive. Richard tried to rebuild his galley in the hotel’s foyer. He really did lift it into the spinning ceiling fan; it was lucky nothing broke.
While painting the Minsk pink, Jeremy and James riffed out some slightly drunk dialogue, and a chef walked by while a random lady stole a can of pink paint to paint her bike. I filmed the whole sequence with a handy cam, which took about 17 minutes. In the final shot, it’s edited to under a minute. That’s the secret of the presenter’s on-screen presence – having an editor to cut out anything boring.
The three presenters had the gift of the gab and were quick with their banter and wit. They would typically adlib a sequence, and if anyone said something genuinely funny, they would riff that same joke a couple of times to get it right before moving on, kind of like a jazz jam session. The cameramen were always careful to shoot anything the presenters referred to, so the editor had something to work with. It was all very professional. So, while a basic script was followed, all the dialogue was improvised, and the crew were quick enough to catch anything off guard. All the script said was, ‘have fun painting the Minsk pink’.
While painting the Minsk pink, Jeremy and James riffed out some slightly drunk dialogue, and a chef walked by while a random lady stole a can of pink paint to paint her bike. I filmed the whole sequence with a handy cam, which took about 17 minutes. In the final shot, it’s edited to under a minute. That’s the secret of the presenter’s on-screen presence – having an editor to cut out anything boring.
The three presenters had the gift of the gab and were quick with their banter and wit. They would typically adlib a sequence, and if anyone said something genuinely funny, they would riff that same joke a couple of times to get it right before moving on, kind of like a jazz jam session. The cameramen were always careful to shoot anything the presenters referred to, so the editor had something to work with. It was all very professional. So, while a basic script was followed, all the dialogue was improvised, and the crew were quick enough to catch anything off guard. All the script said was, ‘have fun painting the Minsk pink’.
Death by Acetone
I almost died a horrible death the next day. Pink paint covered the lens on the Minsk’s camera. Diep, my mechanic who rode the USA Chaly, went to buy some acetone and returned to the hotel with it in a water bottle. It was hot, and we were in the middle of a briefing when Diep passed me the bottle. I thought it was water and took a swig. Luckily, I did not gulp it down, as it would have burnt its way through my stomach and into my lower intestines. Instead, I sprayed it out and screamed, gagging on tap water. The briefing carried on.
The day was easy as there were set sequences at the former Imperial Citadel followed by a fake driving test and some riding around Hue. The driving test was set up with paid Vietnamese actors in the class. We then headed to Hue’s primary market while one crew and I headed to KFC.
The day was easy as there were set sequences at the former Imperial Citadel followed by a fake driving test and some riding around Hue. The driving test was set up with paid Vietnamese actors in the class. We then headed to Hue’s primary market while one crew and I headed to KFC.
Party Time on the Train
We loaded everything into the trucks and headed to Dong Hoi to catch an overnight train to Hanoi. An entire sleeping carriage and a third-class cabin for filming were booked just for us. There were many cases of beer in the sleeping carriage, which half the crew got stuck into immediately. The presenters also hit the cans and were filmed slumming it in their fake third-class carriage while making bad jokes, all of which ended up on the editor’s floor.
Eventually, everyone returned to the private sleeping carriage, and it was game on. For the first time, everyone had nothing to do. The entire crew, along with James and Richard, gravitated to one room, smashing beers and listening to the Ramones. There were 16 of us on four beds, and it was pure gold. Jeremy was trying to sleep in the room next door. The train was very bumpy, so people took turns banging on the joining wall, shouting, “How’s the sleep, Jezza?”
We managed to stack the empty beer cans vertically from floor to ceiling. Jeremy barged in and shouted, “Shut the fuck up”, just as the last beer can was put in place. There was silence for two seconds, then he slammed the door shut, and everyone burst out laughing; James snorted, two of us practically wet our pants, and Richard had tears coming out of his eyes. It was an absolutely fabulous moment.
Eventually, everyone returned to the private sleeping carriage, and it was game on. For the first time, everyone had nothing to do. The entire crew, along with James and Richard, gravitated to one room, smashing beers and listening to the Ramones. There were 16 of us on four beds, and it was pure gold. Jeremy was trying to sleep in the room next door. The train was very bumpy, so people took turns banging on the joining wall, shouting, “How’s the sleep, Jezza?”
We managed to stack the empty beer cans vertically from floor to ceiling. Jeremy barged in and shouted, “Shut the fuck up”, just as the last beer can was put in place. There was silence for two seconds, then he slammed the door shut, and everyone burst out laughing; James snorted, two of us practically wet our pants, and Richard had tears coming out of his eyes. It was an absolutely fabulous moment.
Hanoi to Ha Long Bay
Unlike the show, where the presenters bicker about mistaken train tickets, the plan was always to stay in Hanoi at the Sheraton Hotel. We drove the presenters to the Quan An Ngon Restaurant, and then I spent the day helping Mr Wolf and Markus finish the Vespa boat. Markus had been working on it for a few days, and it was only tested at about 5 p.m. that afternoon. It and the other two floatable motorbikes were put onto the truck, ready to be driven to Ha Long Bay the next day.
The ride to Ha Long Bay was simple enough as the weather was great, and the harvest was in full swing. The presenters only rode the more picturesque second half of the ride. During a segment filmed off the cuff in a village, I heard one of the old women look at Jeremy’s crotch and say, “Look at the size of that monkey”. “Good grief, his poor wife must be well worn out”, quipped her friend. It was a genuine moment, and Jeremy and Richard were happy until the minders said they could not film there anymore.
The ride to Ha Long Bay was simple enough as the weather was great, and the harvest was in full swing. The presenters only rode the more picturesque second half of the ride. During a segment filmed off the cuff in a village, I heard one of the old women look at Jeremy’s crotch and say, “Look at the size of that monkey”. “Good grief, his poor wife must be well worn out”, quipped her friend. It was a genuine moment, and Jeremy and Richard were happy until the minders said they could not film there anymore.
Jeremy's Near-Fatal Crash
Later on, I was throwing rocks at an empty beer bottle with Richard and James when suddenly the walkie-talkies went mad. Everyone was screaming at the same time because Jeremy had crashed his Vespa. Apparently, he accelerated while changing down a gear. He was lucky not to be hit by a car. The crew immediately hid the SD card in case the Vietnamese minders banned the shot. One of the crew texted news of the crash to a friend in the UK, and within an hour, reporters were at Jeremy’s house looking for his wife.
We arrived at Ha Long Bay, filmed a bit, and then proceeded to a mechanic workshop to film the sequence in which the presenters make their bikes amphibious. They managed to do what took us a month in just one night. The crew returned to the hotel. Markus, the mechanics and I stayed up until 3.30 a.m. getting the three amphibious bikes ready. We purposely tweaked the boats so that Jeremy’s was the slowest.
We arrived at Ha Long Bay, filmed a bit, and then proceeded to a mechanic workshop to film the sequence in which the presenters make their bikes amphibious. They managed to do what took us a month in just one night. The crew returned to the hotel. Markus, the mechanics and I stayed up until 3.30 a.m. getting the three amphibious bikes ready. We purposely tweaked the boats so that Jeremy’s was the slowest.
Ha Long Bay Magic
The next day was television magic. Helicopters overhead, rescue divers at the ready, speedboats to carry the crew out into the Bay, and absolutely no idea whether the boats we had constructed were up to the task. Incredibly, they all worked, and the three presenters headed out from the beach and into the sea. Unfortunately, a strong wind and waves hit them at an angle. Jeremy was washed towards a rocky pier, so I jumped in the water to stop him from crashing into the rocks. My phone and passport were ruined. Jeremy said, “Why can’t mine go faster”. James’s boat sank because water got under Mr Wolf’s floating foam. This happened because we’d strapped a large rock to James’s Honda to balance it.
Everyone regrouped at the end of the pier. I tied ropes to Jeremy’s and Richard’s boats, and speedboats pulled them 3 km through open water and into a stunning area full of stunning rocky karst outcrops with no tourists. James was abandoned on the beach until Explore Indochina’s mechanics removed the rock and attached more robust floats to make it seaworthy. This was all done on the fly, and James was able to make his way out into the Bay.
I was in the lead speed boat and had a fantastic day following Jeremy and Richard driving around the Bay. The lead cameraman said it was more beautiful than a volcanic lake in Iceland, which he had filmed two weeks before. The bike boats kept going and going at a good clip. The presenters easily travelled about five km as they drove into caves, climbed up on rocks and otherwise stunned local fishermen.
At one point, the director asked Jeremy to repeat what he’d just said, but while looking at the camera. Jeremy said “Since when do you do the talking? This is Top Gear, and I do the talking”. At least five of us muttered ‘cunt’. The Vespa started to give Jeremy electrical shocks, and we all smiled behind his back. One of the crew members said he could probably fix it, but it was decided that he should just let him suffer.
Jeremy decided on the fly to end the show at a floating fishing village. Richard purposely cut the steering wires on his Minsk swan boat, so he went around in circles but eventually made it to the floating village. James, meanwhile, had caught up, and they faked his boat coming to pieces by untying the floats and removing some of the foam. A remarkable current ran parallel to the fishing village, so they pulled James’ boat into the correct position, and he could drift right to the floating village. Again, it was all on the fly, and the weather and timing were perfect. Never forget that October is typically the cyclone season in North Vietnam, so they were fortunate.
Everyone pounded beers once a wrap was called until a luxurious junk picked us up. The three boats were attached to the back, and we returned to the Bui Tai Long Resort. James’ boat came loose and was lost in the Bay. We had a massive slap-up feast prepared, and everyone roared into the night, chugging beers like demons. I tried unsuccessfully to nab the Stig’s helmet and boots as souvenirs, but was given an Arai helmet instead. I drank with Richard and James and gave them a Minsk Club t-shirt and a Minsk Club Zippo lighter. I was overcome with fatigue and left early, and much to My delight, I got a standing ovation from the entire crew, Richard, James, and Jeremy included.
I must admit my admiration for the entire team and presenters. They worked their arses off non-stop for two whole weeks, with 18-hour days being the norm. The entire crew were professional and incredibly patient. So much of the shoot was filmed on the fly, and the director seamlessly absorbed any mishaps into the narrative. The dialogue was in no way scripted. All they had was a basic plan, a sequence of events essential for any TV story to flow well. Then, the presenters just riffed out a dialogue, and the camera operators were good enough to catch it all and provide background shots so that it could all be edited together.
Everyone regrouped at the end of the pier. I tied ropes to Jeremy’s and Richard’s boats, and speedboats pulled them 3 km through open water and into a stunning area full of stunning rocky karst outcrops with no tourists. James was abandoned on the beach until Explore Indochina’s mechanics removed the rock and attached more robust floats to make it seaworthy. This was all done on the fly, and James was able to make his way out into the Bay.
I was in the lead speed boat and had a fantastic day following Jeremy and Richard driving around the Bay. The lead cameraman said it was more beautiful than a volcanic lake in Iceland, which he had filmed two weeks before. The bike boats kept going and going at a good clip. The presenters easily travelled about five km as they drove into caves, climbed up on rocks and otherwise stunned local fishermen.
At one point, the director asked Jeremy to repeat what he’d just said, but while looking at the camera. Jeremy said “Since when do you do the talking? This is Top Gear, and I do the talking”. At least five of us muttered ‘cunt’. The Vespa started to give Jeremy electrical shocks, and we all smiled behind his back. One of the crew members said he could probably fix it, but it was decided that he should just let him suffer.
Jeremy decided on the fly to end the show at a floating fishing village. Richard purposely cut the steering wires on his Minsk swan boat, so he went around in circles but eventually made it to the floating village. James, meanwhile, had caught up, and they faked his boat coming to pieces by untying the floats and removing some of the foam. A remarkable current ran parallel to the fishing village, so they pulled James’ boat into the correct position, and he could drift right to the floating village. Again, it was all on the fly, and the weather and timing were perfect. Never forget that October is typically the cyclone season in North Vietnam, so they were fortunate.
Everyone pounded beers once a wrap was called until a luxurious junk picked us up. The three boats were attached to the back, and we returned to the Bui Tai Long Resort. James’ boat came loose and was lost in the Bay. We had a massive slap-up feast prepared, and everyone roared into the night, chugging beers like demons. I tried unsuccessfully to nab the Stig’s helmet and boots as souvenirs, but was given an Arai helmet instead. I drank with Richard and James and gave them a Minsk Club t-shirt and a Minsk Club Zippo lighter. I was overcome with fatigue and left early, and much to My delight, I got a standing ovation from the entire crew, Richard, James, and Jeremy included.
I must admit my admiration for the entire team and presenters. They worked their arses off non-stop for two whole weeks, with 18-hour days being the norm. The entire crew were professional and incredibly patient. So much of the shoot was filmed on the fly, and the director seamlessly absorbed any mishaps into the narrative. The dialogue was in no way scripted. All they had was a basic plan, a sequence of events essential for any TV story to flow well. Then, the presenters just riffed out a dialogue, and the camera operators were good enough to catch it all and provide background shots so that it could all be edited together.
And So it Ended
Everyone was exhausted the next day. It was a pleasure to become a member of such a fraternity and be accepted by the presenters as a normal person; one of the team, so to speak. James and Richard were easy and interesting to talk to. Top Gear never intended to ride the bikes out into Ha Long Bay. Jeremy’s original plan was to make a quick jaunt to a floating restaurant some 50 m offshore at the main port. It was Explore Indochina that made that whole remarkable sequence possible, and the show was increased by 15 minutes to fit it in. Something to tell the grandchildren about huh?
By Digby Greenhalgh
Digby Greenhalgh is the founder of Explore Indochina, and a recognized expert on the Ho Chi Minh Trail. All motorcycle tours are designed and guided by Digby.
Recent Posts
Operation Lam Son 719
South Vietnamese and US forces suffered a catastrophic defeat when they invaded Laos in order to cut the Ho Chi Minh Trail
The Planet’s Most Heavily Bombed Areas
Some areas of the Ho Chi Minh Trail are completely riddled with bomb craters
