Last updated April 2024 | Words and photos by Vietnam Coracle | 63 comments

Tom Divers is the founder and creator of Vietnam Coracle. He’s lived, travelled and worked in Vietnam since 2005. Born in London, he travelled from an early age, visiting over 40 countries (he first visited Vietnam in 1999). Now, whenever he has the opportunity to make a trip, he rarely looks beyond Vietnam’s borders and his trusty motorbike, Stavros. Read more about Tom on the About Page, Vietnam Times and ASE Podcast.

In April 2024, while riding on the Ho Chi Minh Road, the odometer on my motorbike – known affectionately to me as ‘Stavros’ – ticked over to 250,000km. And so, near the end of our 17^th year on the road together, we’d finally ridden a quarter of a million kilometres around Vietnam. My motorbike, Stavros, is a 2007 model Yamaha Nouvo 115cc automatic. Over the last 17 years, Stavros and I have been everywhere together: all of the motorbike guides on this website have been produced on the back of Stavros’ efforts to get me there and take me back again. Together, we have visited all of Vietnam’s 63 provinces and municipalities. What’s more, to the best of my recollection, we’ve never had to turn back. Stavros has been a worthy companion and a veritable workhorse: I am astonished by Stavros’ achievements. Now, Stavros and I are on what will probably be our last great road trip together.

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MY MOTORBIKE, STAVROS

Celebrating a Quarter of a Million Kilometres on the Road Together

This article is a tribute to my motorbike, Stavros, and the story of our relationship over the years, as well as a gallery of images. (For similar articles, see Related Posts.) Click an item from the contents below to read more:

CONTENTS:

Introducing ‘Stavros’

Birth of ‘Stavros’

Life of ‘Stavros’

Future of ‘Stavros’

Photos of ‘Stavros’

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Introducing Stavros:

Stavros is a gold-painted, 115cc, 2007 edition Yamaha Nouvo and I love it. Now 17 years-old and having clocked-up over a quarter of a million kilometres, Stavros has taken me all over Vietnam. Back in 2007, my motorbike was new, shiny, gold, and a relatively coveted model in Vietnam. I called it ‘Stavros’ as a kind of joke, because the motorbike had a masculine, macho arrogance about it: I imagined Stavros as a sort of cartoon-like caricature of a self-confident (perhaps self-deluded), tanned Mediterranean male, who thought of himself as a bit of a ladies’ man, and wore his shirt unbuttoned to reveal a hairy chest and a gold medallion.

I confess to having very limited mechanical knowledge of motorbikes. But, although I can’t claim to have personally nursed my motorbike to this milestone, I have paid for Stavros to be maintained as regularly as possible at Yamaha garages throughout Vietnam. Indeed, the older my motorbike gets, the more diligent I become about taking Stavros to be checked over. Additionally, I have always treated Stavros with a certain level of respect: my motorbike is the most essential piece of equipment I own – in many ways it’s my livelihood and, to some extent, my life is in its hands on a daily basis. On the other hand, I have also been rough and demanding with Stavros: there have been many occasions when I’ve ridden over 500km in a single day (a lot on Vietnam’s roads), or ridden in deep mud or up steep goat paths or on rough roads made entirely of big, sharp boulders – none of which are conditions that Stavros was designed for. And yet, everything I’ve asked of it, Stavros has done. Stavros has never really let me down. And, as far as I can recall, I’ve never had to turn back. In this way, over the years I’ve forged a relationship with Stavros in much the same way as you might with a horse: I care for it and love it and reward it, but I ask and demand a lot from it in return.

I’m under no illusions: Stavros is not a glamorous motorbike: it’s not a powerful bike; it’s not a rare bike; and it will not become a collectors’ bike. But it is my bike: I know its history, its heritage and its heroics. It has been a workhorse of a machine, and I couldn’t have done what I have with this website, or have been where I have in Vietnam, without Stavros. Stavros has taken me to some sublime places, most of which I would never have seen or even known existed, were it not for the independence and freedom that my motorbike has given me in Vietnam.

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Birth of Stavros:

I bought my motorbike brand new in Saigon’s Chinatown (Chợ Lớn) for 30 million Việt Nam Đồng. In 2007, that was equivalent to about $2,000, making it the single most expensive item I’d ever purchased. At that time, my Vietnamese bank only allowed customers to withdraw 2,000,000VNĐ per time from their cash machines, and the highest denomination note was 100,000VNĐ. This meant I had to insert my bank card 15 times to reach the total cost of my motorbike, and, by the time I’d finished – after exhausting the supply of two ATMs – I had 300 bank notes stuffed into my pockets. It was a nervous walk from the cash machine to the motorbike shop. Bought new, Stavros was guaranteed for 2 years or 50,000km. Now, in April 2024, Stavros has been on the road for 17 years and over 250,000km.

I still remember my first road trips with Stavros. Initially, I enjoyed riding around Saigon late at night (when the roads were quiet) with my girlfriend at the time on the back, or with one of my friends riding pillion for company. But my first ride outside the city limits was to Tây Ninh, a province northwest of Saigon, near the Cambodian border. It’s only a hundred kilometres and not a remarkable ride, but I remember how green the rice paddies were that reached to the sides of the highway and all the way to the flat horizon. And I remember the rains that fell with dusk on the unlit highway during the return journey. My next road trips were along the Ocean Road to Mui Ne and into the Central Highlands on the mountain roads to Dalat. These were the first of many hundreds of road trips that Stavros and I would undertake together.

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Life of Stavros:

Stavros’ life has not been easy, but it has been adventurous, hard-working and exciting. Over more than a decade on Vietnam’s roads, Stavros has endured the traffic-clogged, exhaust-choked streets of Saigon’s rush hour on thousands of occasions; stood up to the driving rain, gale-force winds and biblical lightning of monsoon season typhoons on the central coast; survived the mud-filled mountain roads and landslides of the extreme northern highlands; suffered the potholes and red dirt roads of my many ill-conceived ‘short-cuts’ in the Central Highlands; and withstood the oppressive heat and humidity of the Mekong Delta baking in the late dry season sun. Stavros has crossed the country many dozens of times on its own two wheels, but also on trains and buses, and crossed the seas and rivers and lakes of Vietnam on boats, ferries and wooden rafts. Stavros has been camping in cold pine forests and on empty beaches and by mountain rivers. And Stavros has even met with one or two minor collisions. There have been some breakdowns (including a bizarre puncture that was caused by a bamboo toothpick, which somehow entered the inch-thick tubeless back tyre at a 45° angle), but never any meltdowns: I’ve never lost my temper with Stavros. As a part of my life for nearly two decades, Stavros has made acquaintance with, and even transported, most of the people I know or have known. My family and friends visiting from the UK, my expatriate friends (who come and go, as is the nature of expatriates in Vietnam) and my young Vietnamese friends (who also come and go, as is the nature of Vietnamese youth, many of whom leave to study or work or live abroad), and my romantic partners (who also come and go). Stavros, however, has been a constant in my life since 2007.

Now, however, Stavros is surely well into old age, and signs of wear and tear are everywhere. The plastic lamination, which I covered the entire body with when I bought the motorbike to protect it from scratches, is blistering and flaking off, making it look as though Stavros has a rare skin disease. Various pipes on the underbody have turned a rust-brown, the luggage rack that GIVI supplied is rusting out of existence after being exposed to 12 months of salty sea breezes on Phú Quốc Island during the Covid lock-down, and the square, Transformer-esque body looks boxy and heavy compared to the sleek and slender designs that are available today. But, I don’t care about any of this. In fact, the more worn, unfashionable and used Stavros looks, the more unyielding, rugged and tough it appears to me. I’m suspicious of bikers whose motorbikes are too ‘precious’, always looking pristine and virginal, as if they’re fresh off the showroom floor: where’s the evidence of all the epic journeys it’s made, all the road it’s eaten, the weather it’s endured, the adventures? In fact, despite its bedraggled appearance, Stavros is still going reasonably strong today, even after 17 years and 250,000km. Stavros has proven to be robust, strong, determined and long-lived.

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Future of Stavros:

As a road cruiser, Stavros still performs brilliantly: it glides along the straights, purrs through the corners; it’s smooth and reliable with a range of 130-150km per tank (depending on the terrain). It’s still a great bike for long, on-road journeys through Vietnam, eating up 300km+ on a daily basis. And even, to my surprise, when I recently took Stavros along steep, dirt roads through highland pine forest on an extended camping trip, I was amazed by its toughness and endurance off-road.

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However, despite these remarkable achievements, I know that Stavros is old and tired and more prone to wear and tear than previously, and it costs me more and more money to maintain. In particular, Stavros has significantly lost power going uphill and especially struggles when loaded down with the extra weight of luggage or a passenger. The engine is noisy and gets very hot after a couple of hours riding in the tropical sun and I have to change the oils every few hundred kilometres. Ultimately, I accept the fact that Stavros will need to retire very soon and I will have to buy a new motorbike. In fact, I am currently in the middle of what I think will be our last great road trip together: we are riding up and down Vietnam, researching new routes and updating previous ones. If this is to be Stavros’ final ride, it is a fittingly adventurous, demanding and productive one.

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Photos of Stavros:

54 Images of My Motorbike, Stavros

*Disclosure: I never receive payment for anything I write: my content is always free and independent. I’ve written this article because I want to: I like my motorbike and I want my readers to know about it. For more details, see my Disclosure & Disclaimer statements and my About Page

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