So in Nha Trang, a medium sized Vietnamese town/city more than 10 000 km from Glasgow, you wouldn't expect to run into many weegie, would you? But when I got up in the morning, in the bunk above me was Lisa, a girl from Clydebank I'd met in Hanoi (OK, technically dubious whether this is Glasgow, but bear with me). The two of us went a wander to see what there was to see in the town. If I'm honest, the answer is very little.
Nha Trang looks to be a town where the tourists live on the beach (or under the sea as its 'nam's diving capital) Neither of these have much appeal when there are warning signs all along the front telling us to stay out of the water. So somewhat deflated we returned to our hotel to claim the free drinks we were promised.( As an aside I don't deliberately stay places where they offer free booze, it just happens)
Now I'm not sure if the choice of "Ghost Town" by The Specials was deliberate as we played pool in the empty bar (which has 8 staff and a sign asking for more) but it felt very apt. After the freebie and one of THE most manly cocktails I've ever had, we moved on to another bar, which promised free cocktails on entry and two for one spirits. Now we had a few hours here, during which I made spirited attempt to get the American - who has hijacked the music with his own Ipod - lynched by turning the Ipod to Born in The USA. He did his best to help my quest by whooping and air punching along, but sadly the Vietnamese were too laid back to care. At this point me, Lisa and a couple of Dutch guys we met moved on to the Sailing Club, where we met Carrie, another Glasgow girl (see told you I was going somewhere) that I had first met in Hue. The night flew in, and before long it was 2am and I was banging on the hostel door to be let in.
The next day went by with very little incident, except for two noteworthy events. The first of these was that I ate 3 full dinners. The offer to pay for a fourth was quickly withdrawn as I called for a menu. The second event was a story I was told by a guy called Ben, and of all the potential scams I've heard in South East Asia this ranks at number one. He was sitting in a bar, and got chatting to a girl who said she was half-Malaysian, Half-Philippine. She was living in Nha Trang with her uncle because her family had moved to America, but as she was over 21 she could not be on the same visa form. Her and Ben played a lot of pool, had a laugh and he asked her to go for a drink that evening. She declined but offered him lunch the next day. It turns out she wanted to cook for him so they went to her uncles place. The girl ate her meal quite quickly and excused herself, saying she needed to call her mum. This left Ben and her uncle alone together. Now, gamblers, you'll understand why I've tagged you in this note. I want views and opinions, both on what you would do, and where you think the catch is. Her uncle told Ben that he was the pit boss on a new floating casino opening later in the week. He then explained that all casinos in Vietnam are rigged as the house will choose people they believe to be compulsive gamblers to win, so that they will return and lose more than they were paid out. He went on to say that the casino was planning on dropping hundreds of thousands of dollars on opening night so that it would appear to be a "lucky"casino. Then came the ruse. He suggested that Ben should take some of the uncles money, play tables and be one of the "lucky"winners. The uncle would OK this in his role as pit boss and Ben could leave. The money that they won ( the target was $40 000 - big enough, but not enough to be suspicious) would be split 75/25 in favour of the uncle. By the time I saw him, Ben had been thinking this over for 24 hours, and was saying he thought it was too risky, but was still off to meet the niece again. Unfortunately I didn't see him again so didn't get closure on how the story ended.
Having given it my own thought, I would have walked away from this. BUT there was a tiny part of me that would have liked to have gone for the big score. Booked the 8 am bus to Saigon, and an evening flight from Saigon to Kuala Lumpar, taken the whole $40 000 and run. I realise this means that I would probably not be able to go back to Vietnam, but if I was ripping off a casino - probably at least in part mafia run - then I'd be worried to go back anyway.
The next day I headed for Saigon, to meet Lisa and Saul - another guy from our dorm. There was glorious sun - after a week of clouds while I'd been at the beach. I think travel agents, by virtue of their bulk buy policy, book out entire cabins on these trains thus explaining why for the third journey in a row I''m the white guy wit huge bags in a carriage full of Vietnamese families, while the next carriage is full of white Westerners. Not that I mind - its an insight to Vietnamese life and the family I'm with are lovely. They don't speak any English, but this hasn't stopped the grandmother from talking to me for about ten minutes - in response to which I pull the black father Dougal face and look confused. The kid is pretty cute though - when he stops crying that is....
Monday 30 November 2009
Sunday 29 November 2009
Hoi An
As Forrest Gump once said "One day it started raining, and it didn't quit for four months. We been through every kind of rain there is. Little bitty stingin' rain... and big ol' fat rain. Rain that flew in sideways. And sometimes rain even seemed to come straight up from underneath.''
With weather like this we headed south in hope of some sun. After almost five hours we reached Hoi An - the city of 1000 tailors. After an impressively quick bag drop we set out to find food and explore the town. After walking round for a bit, and spotting a fair amount of flood damage we found an interesting little area where they basically had a group of food stalls together in a cafeteria-esque set up. We had dinner and some 4000 dong beer (13p - I know! 3p more than Hanoi! Terrible isn't it?) before we were solicited for a bar with the promise of a free motorbike trip there and a "F CK strong Bucket" when you bought a drink. So I shared a ride with Vera - a German lawyer we met in Hue, who had a fear of motorbikes, as we whizzed through the town to a bar with a picture of Super-Bono and a shed load of graffiti (to which I added my own Billy Connolly nabbed line)
After we woke the night porter to let us into bed, the next day we went to find a tailor. After trying a couple of places, we stumbled across this little shop with hundreds of rolls of suit material. Now the first thing I had to do was chose a colour. And as much as I think that I would look sharp in an orange suit, and that it would also play well on any subsequent visits to Amsterdam, I decided to go for a black on black suit. Although I did preserve my spirit of rebellion with a purple satin lining. Now I was lucky enough to have two friends with me who knew what they were doing when it came to material and cut of clothes - which made buying and alterations much easier. After a measurement that took in areas I didn't Even know I had, it took only one more fitting to come out with an excellently tailored suit.
Now if you have a shopping addiction and a fixed budget, you shouldn't go to Hoi An. I came away with 5 tailored shirts, 4 work ties, a hammer and sickle tie, a charcoal drawing of an elderly Vietnamese woman and several other things I never knew I needed. And I don't like shopping.
The grim weather may have played a part as with clouds, rain and six feet high waves we decided not to visit China Beach - we thought it would be sunny in Nha Trang....
We did go and visit the ruins at My Son, which were at times brilliant and other worldly and at other slightly tacky and disappointing. One thing that isn't appreciated in Vietnam is that it would be better to see the ruins in their original state, than something which has been rather gaudily restored and repainted. But this is just a slight grump at some wonderful places I've seen.
Hoi An was a wonderful way to spend a few nights, and if we had had the weather, I could have stayed longer, but as it was on day five i hopped in a taxi to Da Nang train station. Once again my train cabin had a language barrier, but this time it was with an elderly German couple, the male half of which had THE most malodorous feet I've encountered so far on my trip. TO be fair to them, they were very generous with their bananas and wet wipes (dinner was greasy). All in all it was a pretty quiet journey, we arrived at Nha Trang about 11pm and i got to the hostel half an hour later
With weather like this we headed south in hope of some sun. After almost five hours we reached Hoi An - the city of 1000 tailors. After an impressively quick bag drop we set out to find food and explore the town. After walking round for a bit, and spotting a fair amount of flood damage we found an interesting little area where they basically had a group of food stalls together in a cafeteria-esque set up. We had dinner and some 4000 dong beer (13p - I know! 3p more than Hanoi! Terrible isn't it?) before we were solicited for a bar with the promise of a free motorbike trip there and a "F CK strong Bucket" when you bought a drink. So I shared a ride with Vera - a German lawyer we met in Hue, who had a fear of motorbikes, as we whizzed through the town to a bar with a picture of Super-Bono and a shed load of graffiti (to which I added my own Billy Connolly nabbed line)
After we woke the night porter to let us into bed, the next day we went to find a tailor. After trying a couple of places, we stumbled across this little shop with hundreds of rolls of suit material. Now the first thing I had to do was chose a colour. And as much as I think that I would look sharp in an orange suit, and that it would also play well on any subsequent visits to Amsterdam, I decided to go for a black on black suit. Although I did preserve my spirit of rebellion with a purple satin lining. Now I was lucky enough to have two friends with me who knew what they were doing when it came to material and cut of clothes - which made buying and alterations much easier. After a measurement that took in areas I didn't Even know I had, it took only one more fitting to come out with an excellently tailored suit.
Now if you have a shopping addiction and a fixed budget, you shouldn't go to Hoi An. I came away with 5 tailored shirts, 4 work ties, a hammer and sickle tie, a charcoal drawing of an elderly Vietnamese woman and several other things I never knew I needed. And I don't like shopping.
The grim weather may have played a part as with clouds, rain and six feet high waves we decided not to visit China Beach - we thought it would be sunny in Nha Trang....
We did go and visit the ruins at My Son, which were at times brilliant and other worldly and at other slightly tacky and disappointing. One thing that isn't appreciated in Vietnam is that it would be better to see the ruins in their original state, than something which has been rather gaudily restored and repainted. But this is just a slight grump at some wonderful places I've seen.
Hoi An was a wonderful way to spend a few nights, and if we had had the weather, I could have stayed longer, but as it was on day five i hopped in a taxi to Da Nang train station. Once again my train cabin had a language barrier, but this time it was with an elderly German couple, the male half of which had THE most malodorous feet I've encountered so far on my trip. TO be fair to them, they were very generous with their bananas and wet wipes (dinner was greasy). All in all it was a pretty quiet journey, we arrived at Nha Trang about 11pm and i got to the hostel half an hour later
Saturday 28 November 2009
Half the world of Hue
Hue is a very pretty city and a good laugh.
I arrived at the hostel on my first night about two hours too late for something that would bankrupt a lesser establishment, namely FREE BEER HOUR. In this time you can drink as many beers as you like without paying. And with beer at 20 000 a bottle, and rooms at 110 000 a night, the maths is there for all to see.
The next day I went on the city tour, which took us to some cool sites, but I reckon its been turned into a bit of a tourist trap as the $11 price tag - good value against a car - included only the bus, a pretty good guide to give him his due, and what appeared to be a rather nice buffet lunch. On reflection however the lunch may not have been so harmless.
Later that night I met up with Harry again which was cool. Had a few beers with him and some others, then played some pool. This was cool for about two hours, until my body - 52 days into the trip - decided that it had had enough of me and wanted to explode. I left many a puzzled Vietnamese street seller in my wake as I sprinted back to the safety of my hostel and my bathroom.
12 hours later and 4 stone lighter, I emerged from my room to find Hayley (from Hanoi) and Karl (one of the guys from the previous night) sitting with two new faces., Honza from Holland and Bronwyn from South Africa. After a discussion process which I in my weakened state missed out on it was decided to hire bikes for the day and go cycling. After much persuasion (Karl: You coming? Me: Erm... Bronwyn: Go on. Me : O.K.) and seventeen costume changes (none of which were mine) we set out to explore Hue. It was weird to be back on a bike for the first time in six and a half years.....
It was a nice way to see the city though. In true Tour De France style we took it in turns to lead the pack and kept the pace up with baffled locals pointing at us as we flew past. Before I was in the mood, someone suggested we turn for home. Luckily Bronwyn felt the same way and after a brief pit stop we headed back out. We ended up at the pagoda, which I had visited the previous day on the city tour but I was much more able to appreciate its beauty (and tranquility!) for the fact that it was one hour later and most of the tourists had gone home.
As time was ticking by, and the sun drops like a stone here, we started the 7km ride home. Coming back over the bridge to town, I was slow getting away at some lights, so Bronwyn was about 5 seconds ahead of me , as we went to turn left across 3 lanes of traffic. With her head start Bronwyn had space to move in front of a coach, while I decided to wait and go behind. When the bus had moved past, I saw lying in the middle of the road a tangle of bodies, bike and motorbike. Now in Vietnam if there is a crash, traffic doesn't stop, it just moves round using any and all available space. This meant I had no chance to get near so I pulled in at the side of the road and waited. Amazingly enough 2 seconds later up she sprung, got back on the bike and pedalled through to the other side of the junction. Turns out the bike had come out of nowhere and hit her from behind. Luckily enough she wasn't really hurt.
Went back to the hostel and has a quiet night. Oh and Davey, Honza told the Auschwitz joke!
I arrived at the hostel on my first night about two hours too late for something that would bankrupt a lesser establishment, namely FREE BEER HOUR. In this time you can drink as many beers as you like without paying. And with beer at 20 000 a bottle, and rooms at 110 000 a night, the maths is there for all to see.
The next day I went on the city tour, which took us to some cool sites, but I reckon its been turned into a bit of a tourist trap as the $11 price tag - good value against a car - included only the bus, a pretty good guide to give him his due, and what appeared to be a rather nice buffet lunch. On reflection however the lunch may not have been so harmless.
Later that night I met up with Harry again which was cool. Had a few beers with him and some others, then played some pool. This was cool for about two hours, until my body - 52 days into the trip - decided that it had had enough of me and wanted to explode. I left many a puzzled Vietnamese street seller in my wake as I sprinted back to the safety of my hostel and my bathroom.
12 hours later and 4 stone lighter, I emerged from my room to find Hayley (from Hanoi) and Karl (one of the guys from the previous night) sitting with two new faces., Honza from Holland and Bronwyn from South Africa. After a discussion process which I in my weakened state missed out on it was decided to hire bikes for the day and go cycling. After much persuasion (Karl: You coming? Me: Erm... Bronwyn: Go on. Me : O.K.) and seventeen costume changes (none of which were mine) we set out to explore Hue. It was weird to be back on a bike for the first time in six and a half years.....
It was a nice way to see the city though. In true Tour De France style we took it in turns to lead the pack and kept the pace up with baffled locals pointing at us as we flew past. Before I was in the mood, someone suggested we turn for home. Luckily Bronwyn felt the same way and after a brief pit stop we headed back out. We ended up at the pagoda, which I had visited the previous day on the city tour but I was much more able to appreciate its beauty (and tranquility!) for the fact that it was one hour later and most of the tourists had gone home.
As time was ticking by, and the sun drops like a stone here, we started the 7km ride home. Coming back over the bridge to town, I was slow getting away at some lights, so Bronwyn was about 5 seconds ahead of me , as we went to turn left across 3 lanes of traffic. With her head start Bronwyn had space to move in front of a coach, while I decided to wait and go behind. When the bus had moved past, I saw lying in the middle of the road a tangle of bodies, bike and motorbike. Now in Vietnam if there is a crash, traffic doesn't stop, it just moves round using any and all available space. This meant I had no chance to get near so I pulled in at the side of the road and waited. Amazingly enough 2 seconds later up she sprung, got back on the bike and pedalled through to the other side of the junction. Turns out the bike had come out of nowhere and hit her from behind. Luckily enough she wasn't really hurt.
Went back to the hostel and has a quiet night. Oh and Davey, Honza told the Auschwitz joke!
Hanoi-ed to leave
-This was written in Hue backpackers hostel-
Well I can honestly say that Hanoi is the first place I've left where my strongest feeling was regret. I've enjoyed almost everywhere I've been, but Hanoi is the only place where - under different circumstances - I could see myself living.
The city has a great vibe, and the locals are so friendly - and not in the rope 'em in and scam 'em way. For example, a couple of times when I was sitting at the old quarter lake, students (in their early 20s) came over and asked me if it was OK for them to sit down and practise English with me. It was really cool to get a chance to chat with locals about everyday things.
My last 24 hours in Hanoi were pretty cool. Went out in a big group for a meal - got myself some watersnake (tastes a bit like a tuna/salmon crossbreed) and then we headed to the "Bia Hoi Junction" and had some 10p beers. Thats right kids, 10p!
After this I realised that my so laid back I'm horizontal approach to wandering around the city ("We'll find the lake if we wander round for a bit") after there was some worry over one of our groups inabillity to find her own hotel. We did eventually find it (by wandering around for a little while ;-).
The next day I said my goodbyes, paid one last visit to the old quarter and got on the night train, where I was once again the only westerner in the cabin. Got chatting to the woman opposite me and explained to her that Scottish men don't in fact wear dresses and dozed off to sleep...
Well I can honestly say that Hanoi is the first place I've left where my strongest feeling was regret. I've enjoyed almost everywhere I've been, but Hanoi is the only place where - under different circumstances - I could see myself living.
The city has a great vibe, and the locals are so friendly - and not in the rope 'em in and scam 'em way. For example, a couple of times when I was sitting at the old quarter lake, students (in their early 20s) came over and asked me if it was OK for them to sit down and practise English with me. It was really cool to get a chance to chat with locals about everyday things.
My last 24 hours in Hanoi were pretty cool. Went out in a big group for a meal - got myself some watersnake (tastes a bit like a tuna/salmon crossbreed) and then we headed to the "Bia Hoi Junction" and had some 10p beers. Thats right kids, 10p!
After this I realised that my so laid back I'm horizontal approach to wandering around the city ("We'll find the lake if we wander round for a bit") after there was some worry over one of our groups inabillity to find her own hotel. We did eventually find it (by wandering around for a little while ;-).
The next day I said my goodbyes, paid one last visit to the old quarter and got on the night train, where I was once again the only westerner in the cabin. Got chatting to the woman opposite me and explained to her that Scottish men don't in fact wear dresses and dozed off to sleep...
Friday 27 November 2009
The Day I caught the train (for the third time)
I'm on the night train, my third in six days. This soft sleeper is like lying on a pile of bricks rapped in some foam, so I'm glad I didn't tough it out and go for a hard sleeper. Once again I'm in with 3 Vietnamese people but this time they are friendly and chatty - and hopefully not prone to playing music on their mobile phones all night.
The last journey (back from Sapa) was not condusive to a god sleep. I think with those pesky kids and their music - and that was with an Ipod in and an eye mask on. I got off at the other end and was collared by a moto driver who eventually agreed to half his original suggested price and take me back for 20 000 dong (65p). I have since worked out that this was more than I needed to pay, but in my sleep deprived state at 4 am I just didnt care. The driver did all this having seen the card for my hostel (still the same one who "lost" my reservsation the first night, but I have to say its the only place so far I would give a 100% recomendation to - Drift Backpackers Hanoi everyone!) but then he proceded to ask directions from his friends at the gate and head off in the wrong direction. This left me hanging off the back of a motorbike trying to mime directions to the non english speaking driver with one hand and holding on with the other.
We eventually made it to the hostel and as I was promised I went to crash in the TV room. However for some reason at 4.55am at a hostel in Vietnam, there was an Aussie girl sitting on the internet. so with the light and noise she created, and the adrenaline still pumping from the bike ride, I didn't really sleep. She left - LEAVING THE LIGHT ON! - at 5.30 and I dropped off about 20 minutes later.
6.55am - " I cant find Inglorious Basterds! Where is it? I wanted to see that! Oh there it is! OH god this is really going to upset that guy isn't it?"
Well at first yes it did at first, but I had kind of expected it and I too quite fancied seeing that film, so I rolled over, pulled myself together and watched some of QT's new work. I also got chatting to the girl who woke me up. Turns out she was really nice - which is lucky as otherwise I may have had to kill her (Those who have seen a truly sleep deprived Eric will know that I'm only half kidding here :-P)We agreed once we checked in and got sorted out to go and do some sightseeing.
Now at this point I was given a key with a green fob. The rooms in the drift are colour coded. I was told I was on floor 4, but the green room is level 5. I walked into the unlocked green room, took the bed that matched my number, had a shower and went back down..... Turns out I was in the aqua room on floor 4. Oh well.
So somewhere in Hanoi there is a b52 in a pond that crashed during the war. It is IMPOSSIBLE to find. Locals don't know, taxis take you to the B52 museum (there's no pond there!) and not one of us (we found two equally baffled people on route) could find it. So after a second (and still baffling) trip to the Ho Chi Mihn Museum and to the army museum (more plane wrecks, but still no lake) I did something a little adventurous. As Hayley was fading fast and I wasn't far behind we agreed to share a moto home. For the most part this was fine.
There were however two moments of complete panic. The first was when another bike made a spirited attempt to ram us and I had to get my right leg out the road sharpish. The second was when our driver (realising he had made a wrong turn) whirled around and plowed the wrong way down the middle lane of a 3 lane road towards an oncoming bus....
(REAL) Taxi for Johnstone.....
The last journey (back from Sapa) was not condusive to a god sleep. I think with those pesky kids and their music - and that was with an Ipod in and an eye mask on. I got off at the other end and was collared by a moto driver who eventually agreed to half his original suggested price and take me back for 20 000 dong (65p). I have since worked out that this was more than I needed to pay, but in my sleep deprived state at 4 am I just didnt care. The driver did all this having seen the card for my hostel (still the same one who "lost" my reservsation the first night, but I have to say its the only place so far I would give a 100% recomendation to - Drift Backpackers Hanoi everyone!) but then he proceded to ask directions from his friends at the gate and head off in the wrong direction. This left me hanging off the back of a motorbike trying to mime directions to the non english speaking driver with one hand and holding on with the other.
We eventually made it to the hostel and as I was promised I went to crash in the TV room. However for some reason at 4.55am at a hostel in Vietnam, there was an Aussie girl sitting on the internet. so with the light and noise she created, and the adrenaline still pumping from the bike ride, I didn't really sleep. She left - LEAVING THE LIGHT ON! - at 5.30 and I dropped off about 20 minutes later.
6.55am - " I cant find Inglorious Basterds! Where is it? I wanted to see that! Oh there it is! OH god this is really going to upset that guy isn't it?"
Well at first yes it did at first, but I had kind of expected it and I too quite fancied seeing that film, so I rolled over, pulled myself together and watched some of QT's new work. I also got chatting to the girl who woke me up. Turns out she was really nice - which is lucky as otherwise I may have had to kill her (Those who have seen a truly sleep deprived Eric will know that I'm only half kidding here :-P)We agreed once we checked in and got sorted out to go and do some sightseeing.
Now at this point I was given a key with a green fob. The rooms in the drift are colour coded. I was told I was on floor 4, but the green room is level 5. I walked into the unlocked green room, took the bed that matched my number, had a shower and went back down..... Turns out I was in the aqua room on floor 4. Oh well.
So somewhere in Hanoi there is a b52 in a pond that crashed during the war. It is IMPOSSIBLE to find. Locals don't know, taxis take you to the B52 museum (there's no pond there!) and not one of us (we found two equally baffled people on route) could find it. So after a second (and still baffling) trip to the Ho Chi Mihn Museum and to the army museum (more plane wrecks, but still no lake) I did something a little adventurous. As Hayley was fading fast and I wasn't far behind we agreed to share a moto home. For the most part this was fine.
There were however two moments of complete panic. The first was when another bike made a spirited attempt to ram us and I had to get my right leg out the road sharpish. The second was when our driver (realising he had made a wrong turn) whirled around and plowed the wrong way down the middle lane of a 3 lane road towards an oncoming bus....
(REAL) Taxi for Johnstone.....
Sapa
Right I've fallen a bit behind in blogging (I'm now two weeks further on than the blog is)
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So the scenery in Sapa is breath-taking. As I wrote this I was perched on a wall up a mountain overlooking a drop of several hundred feet. The impressively taken timed pictue is available on facebook
On the way up I met a rather insane (but still very friendly) Vietnamese girl. Incidentilly she is the seventh person t have asked early in conversation if I'm married. The girl was lovely other than her insistance we stop every two minutes to take photos.
Sapa is as I've said very pretty but there isn't a lot to do here. If you want to go for a trek with the local tribespeople then this is the place to be, but after a couple of days soaking in the scenery and breathing the mountain air there isn't much to tie you to the place.
While I'm on the subject of tribesfolk, I have to admit there are certain aspects of Sapa that left me uneasy. One of the main draws of the town is that all the local people come in tribal dress to sell their wares. My feeling here is that the line between human carnival and human zoo is a thin and blurry one. There's no way if the town wasn't full of westerners that there would be dozens of black h'mong women selling identical blankets I've had the arguement put to me that these people are doing better out of it than we are, but still I can't help but feel that there is something is lost from a people's culture when there are six H'mong girls sitting in a line in an internet cafe all on YouTube and MySpace.
Again the arguement was put to me (I spent some time having philosophical arguements in Sapa) that you cant prevent people from improving their lives with electricity and computers but I do wonder if they'd be happier if we'd never come along.
Incidentilly I spoke to one Vietnamese man (originally from Hanoi but now working in Sapa) who said that he had been in Sapa for 11 years, and when he had come to town there were two, maybe three hotels. There are now several hundred. He didn't seem pleased with developments.
While I was there I did meet one seemingly cute young girl who aged about six tried to sell me the usual bags and bracelets. When I said I didn't want any she said it would be unfair if she then saw me buying from someone else. My lawyers mind then kicked into gear and I promised that I wouldn't buy any of what she had from anyone else. She made me pinkie promise which I was happy to do. When I had done this she said "Good. Now if you do I get your finger." and walked off smiling...
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So the scenery in Sapa is breath-taking. As I wrote this I was perched on a wall up a mountain overlooking a drop of several hundred feet. The impressively taken timed pictue is available on facebook
On the way up I met a rather insane (but still very friendly) Vietnamese girl. Incidentilly she is the seventh person t have asked early in conversation if I'm married. The girl was lovely other than her insistance we stop every two minutes to take photos.
Sapa is as I've said very pretty but there isn't a lot to do here. If you want to go for a trek with the local tribespeople then this is the place to be, but after a couple of days soaking in the scenery and breathing the mountain air there isn't much to tie you to the place.
While I'm on the subject of tribesfolk, I have to admit there are certain aspects of Sapa that left me uneasy. One of the main draws of the town is that all the local people come in tribal dress to sell their wares. My feeling here is that the line between human carnival and human zoo is a thin and blurry one. There's no way if the town wasn't full of westerners that there would be dozens of black h'mong women selling identical blankets I've had the arguement put to me that these people are doing better out of it than we are, but still I can't help but feel that there is something is lost from a people's culture when there are six H'mong girls sitting in a line in an internet cafe all on YouTube and MySpace.
Again the arguement was put to me (I spent some time having philosophical arguements in Sapa) that you cant prevent people from improving their lives with electricity and computers but I do wonder if they'd be happier if we'd never come along.
Incidentilly I spoke to one Vietnamese man (originally from Hanoi but now working in Sapa) who said that he had been in Sapa for 11 years, and when he had come to town there were two, maybe three hotels. There are now several hundred. He didn't seem pleased with developments.
While I was there I did meet one seemingly cute young girl who aged about six tried to sell me the usual bags and bracelets. When I said I didn't want any she said it would be unfair if she then saw me buying from someone else. My lawyers mind then kicked into gear and I promised that I wouldn't buy any of what she had from anyone else. She made me pinkie promise which I was happy to do. When I had done this she said "Good. Now if you do I get your finger." and walked off smiling...
Wednesday 18 November 2009
Hi Ho, Hi Ho.....
NB - http://www.nzherald.co.nz/technology/news/article.cfm?c_id=5&objectid=10610113
I may not be on facebook for a while, but your comments are still appreciated.
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So tired and hungry I arrived back at the hostel to find out that my room had become Finnish party central. They were ending a 3 month study abroad programme and ready to party. As my knowledge of Finnish music extends to HIM, Lordi and The Rasmus very quickly I was lost in the sing-a-long.
Luckily, my other roommate was from Shawlands (note - for my international readers thats in Glasgow) and I escaped for a few drinks with him and his mates. Was woken up at 5 an by a Finn who felt a need to personally say hello to everyone in the dorm. Never has the reply "aye hello" carried so much implied threat.
Next day we took a mass trip to the Hoa Lo Prison (aka the Hanoi Hilton) to see how things were for prisoners during the Vietnamese wars with America and France. Although it was fun to take turns in the "hell of hells" hole the reality for prisoners can't have been very fun. And although the exhibits seemed to show all the happy times I'm sure the US POWs had it a bit rougher than it looks. Although its good to see the flip side of Holywood gloss.
The next day my compatriots headed for Ha Long Bay and after a lie in and lunch I went to the Ho Chi Mihn Maussoleum complex. Now Uncle Ho is currently in Russia having work done to preserve his body, but his house and museum were still there. He's a very interesting man and certainly said some very profound things but the cult of Ho - where he is treated as Jesus meets Princess Di meets Winston Churchill is incredible. In Vietnam, Ho can do no wrong.
My first intro to Vietnamese sleeper trains (with which there are at least two more planned journeys) came that night. They are not quite as comfy as their thai counterparts, but you travel four to a lockable compartment and travel sideways. My three elderly Vietnamese bunkmates weren't that talkative...
ALSO unlike Thai trains, they run early. This means I arrived in Lao Cai ( on the border with China) at 4.45 am. I found myself a minibus tout and slept in his bus for an hour before the tourists train (see me I'm a local) arrived at 6 am. The Minibus was overcrowded but the scenery was great. I was also very amused by the 4 year old Aussie girl screaming " GOOD MORNING VIETNAM" every so often. The sleeping French pensioners were not.
I may not be on facebook for a while, but your comments are still appreciated.
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So tired and hungry I arrived back at the hostel to find out that my room had become Finnish party central. They were ending a 3 month study abroad programme and ready to party. As my knowledge of Finnish music extends to HIM, Lordi and The Rasmus very quickly I was lost in the sing-a-long.
Luckily, my other roommate was from Shawlands (note - for my international readers thats in Glasgow) and I escaped for a few drinks with him and his mates. Was woken up at 5 an by a Finn who felt a need to personally say hello to everyone in the dorm. Never has the reply "aye hello" carried so much implied threat.
Next day we took a mass trip to the Hoa Lo Prison (aka the Hanoi Hilton) to see how things were for prisoners during the Vietnamese wars with America and France. Although it was fun to take turns in the "hell of hells" hole the reality for prisoners can't have been very fun. And although the exhibits seemed to show all the happy times I'm sure the US POWs had it a bit rougher than it looks. Although its good to see the flip side of Holywood gloss.
The next day my compatriots headed for Ha Long Bay and after a lie in and lunch I went to the Ho Chi Mihn Maussoleum complex. Now Uncle Ho is currently in Russia having work done to preserve his body, but his house and museum were still there. He's a very interesting man and certainly said some very profound things but the cult of Ho - where he is treated as Jesus meets Princess Di meets Winston Churchill is incredible. In Vietnam, Ho can do no wrong.
My first intro to Vietnamese sleeper trains (with which there are at least two more planned journeys) came that night. They are not quite as comfy as their thai counterparts, but you travel four to a lockable compartment and travel sideways. My three elderly Vietnamese bunkmates weren't that talkative...
ALSO unlike Thai trains, they run early. This means I arrived in Lao Cai ( on the border with China) at 4.45 am. I found myself a minibus tout and slept in his bus for an hour before the tourists train (see me I'm a local) arrived at 6 am. The Minibus was overcrowded but the scenery was great. I was also very amused by the 4 year old Aussie girl screaming " GOOD MORNING VIETNAM" every so often. The sleeping French pensioners were not.
Thursday 12 November 2009
Ha Long way from Tipperary...
Well I guess I should start this one with my reflections on Ha Long Bay. After a journey that took ages to get started -with our tour guide's compulsory visit to the police station- we arrived in Ha Long City (still on the mainland) where I was separated from the Aussie girl I had got talking to (as far asI could see the only other solo traveller who had come on this leg) and was sent to "boat 3".
Now on an English-speaking tour I expected a motley crew of Brits, Kiwis, Aussies, Americans and Canadians (maybe with the odd Dutch or Scandinavian thrown in) but not a bit of it. My tour group consisted of 5 Chilians, 3 Koreans, 2 Malaysians, 2 French, 2 Japanese and a German. Along with the Vietnamese crew, this made me the only native English speaker on the tour. And so began my two day career as an interpretor between Asian Second Language English and European Second Language English as the differences seemed to be huge. Personally I thought the standards of English were great, but the French couldn't understand the Vietnamese, and the Japanese couldn't understand the Chileans but other than that the conversations were fun if a little stilted. According to my lovely Korean (not very good at English) roommate and his reliable I-Phone translation, I am "bravery" for coming travelling on my own. Which is nice.
Ha Long Bay may well push Victoria Falls and the road between Luang Prabang and Vang Vieng into 2nd and 3rd place into the list of places I've seen. Its hard to do the place justice in words or pictures if I'm honest. The hundreds of tiny islands make "the bay of the descending dragon"so gorgeous that I advise everyone to go. Now. Stop reading this and leave. Book the tickets and get there.
Still here? Fine then I'll keep typing. The next morning we got up and went for a walk on Cat Ba Island. At the top of the large hill there was a viewing gallery made of rust and plywood but as it was labeled "solid as a rock" up I duely went. The view was amazing. The holes in the floor and the Vietnamese Killer Hornets were not, so down I duely came.
We were then transferred to our hotel for the evening and as Youngjay had left I was put into a suite with a charming gay German couple. Now if I'm being totally honest then they probaly weren't a couple but the camp horseplay and comments gave them that air. We met up with the Aussie from the day before and then all went to the beach. Me and the Germans decided to swim out to the island in the bay that looked close. Actually it turned out to pretty far away. I was knackered (and bleeding) by the time I made it back to the shore.
That night we went out for drinks and met up with a group that some of you would have avoided like the plague --> Five French dentists. After this we went and watched some people doing rock climbing which was pretty cool. Until a chunk of the cliffside fell off. That killed the atmos a little...
The next day - after a strange meal which may well have contained dog - we headed back towards Hanoi. We moved well for two and a half hours until we hit tailbacks that went for miles. The driver seemingly used to this sort of thing switched off the engine and got out of the cab. Well when in Vietnam.... So I went for a walk along one of the busiest motorways in Vietnam. It was a strange experience, but it made for a couple of interesting sites - such as a bus full of monks, almost all on their mobile phones - presumably explaining why they were late.
We eventually got going again and passed the site of the two accidents which had delayed us - one of which looked like a pretty nasty case of motorbike meets truck - where there were men cleaning up the blood with squeegy mops and headed back to Hanoi
tbc...
Now on an English-speaking tour I expected a motley crew of Brits, Kiwis, Aussies, Americans and Canadians (maybe with the odd Dutch or Scandinavian thrown in) but not a bit of it. My tour group consisted of 5 Chilians, 3 Koreans, 2 Malaysians, 2 French, 2 Japanese and a German. Along with the Vietnamese crew, this made me the only native English speaker on the tour. And so began my two day career as an interpretor between Asian Second Language English and European Second Language English as the differences seemed to be huge. Personally I thought the standards of English were great, but the French couldn't understand the Vietnamese, and the Japanese couldn't understand the Chileans but other than that the conversations were fun if a little stilted. According to my lovely Korean (not very good at English) roommate and his reliable I-Phone translation, I am "bravery" for coming travelling on my own. Which is nice.
Ha Long Bay may well push Victoria Falls and the road between Luang Prabang and Vang Vieng into 2nd and 3rd place into the list of places I've seen. Its hard to do the place justice in words or pictures if I'm honest. The hundreds of tiny islands make "the bay of the descending dragon"so gorgeous that I advise everyone to go. Now. Stop reading this and leave. Book the tickets and get there.
Still here? Fine then I'll keep typing. The next morning we got up and went for a walk on Cat Ba Island. At the top of the large hill there was a viewing gallery made of rust and plywood but as it was labeled "solid as a rock" up I duely went. The view was amazing. The holes in the floor and the Vietnamese Killer Hornets were not, so down I duely came.
We were then transferred to our hotel for the evening and as Youngjay had left I was put into a suite with a charming gay German couple. Now if I'm being totally honest then they probaly weren't a couple but the camp horseplay and comments gave them that air. We met up with the Aussie from the day before and then all went to the beach. Me and the Germans decided to swim out to the island in the bay that looked close. Actually it turned out to pretty far away. I was knackered (and bleeding) by the time I made it back to the shore.
That night we went out for drinks and met up with a group that some of you would have avoided like the plague --> Five French dentists. After this we went and watched some people doing rock climbing which was pretty cool. Until a chunk of the cliffside fell off. That killed the atmos a little...
The next day - after a strange meal which may well have contained dog - we headed back towards Hanoi. We moved well for two and a half hours until we hit tailbacks that went for miles. The driver seemingly used to this sort of thing switched off the engine and got out of the cab. Well when in Vietnam.... So I went for a walk along one of the busiest motorways in Vietnam. It was a strange experience, but it made for a couple of interesting sites - such as a bus full of monks, almost all on their mobile phones - presumably explaining why they were late.
We eventually got going again and passed the site of the two accidents which had delayed us - one of which looked like a pretty nasty case of motorbike meets truck - where there were men cleaning up the blood with squeegy mops and headed back to Hanoi
tbc...
Wednesday 11 November 2009
I'll say one thing for those French colonialsits. They had good taste...
- This entry was written sitting on a junk boat off the coast of Vietnam. Jealous yet? -
Well what do I make of Hanoi after my 3 nights there? I can honestly say its the best city - and potentially the best place - I've been to so far. The Old Quarter is THE image of South East Asian cities I came here with. There are stalls in alleyways, doormouths, all along the pavements, food of all sorts available everywhere, the buzz of 10 billion motorbikes (that's just a rough estimate I'm sure you'll understand) and a much stronger sense of national identity (Large Capital v Large Capital) than Bangkok.
The bustle in the city is immense but its easy to drift in and out as you please as the focus of the busyness isn't on you, the way it is in other tourist heavy areas. The motorbikes are pretty crazy, but as long as you keep a steady pace when you cross the roads 99.99% of the time they will avoid you. The other 00.01% you'll have to pull off a leap that would make James Bond proud. Hopefully that's me had my one for this trip.
The food is excellent and CHEAP and for those of you heading out my way I can recommend the water snake - somewhere between salmon and tuna in texture but its own flavour.
The people are really friendly - although repeatedly being asked if I'm married very early in the conversation (by both men and women) is a little odd.
For the first time in my trip, I didn't go and do the sights almost straight after arriving in the town. I just sat back and soaked in the town. I did go to the musee des beaux artes which was well worth the 65p entry fee. The rest of the sights will be done, but not til i come back from Ha Long bay or Sapa.
The weather here is great. The roughly five degree temperature drop from Bangkok was amazing, and the humidity is so much lower. Makes it so much easier to turn down the people who try and pick you up in taxis/cyclos/bikes. Although I do occasionally like to ride the motorbikes for fun.
Well what do I make of Hanoi after my 3 nights there? I can honestly say its the best city - and potentially the best place - I've been to so far. The Old Quarter is THE image of South East Asian cities I came here with. There are stalls in alleyways, doormouths, all along the pavements, food of all sorts available everywhere, the buzz of 10 billion motorbikes (that's just a rough estimate I'm sure you'll understand) and a much stronger sense of national identity (Large Capital v Large Capital) than Bangkok.
The bustle in the city is immense but its easy to drift in and out as you please as the focus of the busyness isn't on you, the way it is in other tourist heavy areas. The motorbikes are pretty crazy, but as long as you keep a steady pace when you cross the roads 99.99% of the time they will avoid you. The other 00.01% you'll have to pull off a leap that would make James Bond proud. Hopefully that's me had my one for this trip.
The food is excellent and CHEAP and for those of you heading out my way I can recommend the water snake - somewhere between salmon and tuna in texture but its own flavour.
The people are really friendly - although repeatedly being asked if I'm married very early in the conversation (by both men and women) is a little odd.
For the first time in my trip, I didn't go and do the sights almost straight after arriving in the town. I just sat back and soaked in the town. I did go to the musee des beaux artes which was well worth the 65p entry fee. The rest of the sights will be done, but not til i come back from Ha Long bay or Sapa.
The weather here is great. The roughly five degree temperature drop from Bangkok was amazing, and the humidity is so much lower. Makes it so much easier to turn down the people who try and pick you up in taxis/cyclos/bikes. Although I do occasionally like to ride the motorbikes for fun.
Tuesday 10 November 2009
How to be really Hanoi-ing....
Now that was an eventful trip....
About 15 minutes before take off, as we got ready to get on the plane, a lovely reassuring announcement came over then tanoy that our plane was having technical problems and there would be a delay of about an hour.
The delay (short by the standards of my trip so far as I'm sure my long term fans will know) didn't phase me in the slightest, although it did make me wonder about my pick up that I had arranged with the hostel at the other end.
About an hour after out intended arrival time, I filled in my medical questionnaire on the plane declaring my a1 fitness (ahem) and then wandered through to arrivals. The silly Belgian girl who admitted to headaches and a cough was taken away never to be seen again
As I feared there was no driver with a sign saying Eric Johnstone and as I'm such a genius I hadn't taken down the details ò the hostel I was to be staying at. So after a brief flirtation with admitting that I was indeed - as I was asked several times - Miss Julie Sanders I went and found an internet cafe to get the hostels phone number.
Now at this point, my ears hadn't popped from the plane journey, so the conversation but I managed to establish both that there was a giraffe somewhere on the motorway and also that there had been a problem with my booking, but that a driver would be here in 10 minutes to come and get me.
After an interesting drive (as in Laos - but not Thailand - they drive on the wrong side ò the road here) we arrived at the hostel only for me to be told, by the very sincerely sorry South African behind the counter, that the booking mix up meant that there was no space for me at the hostel, so I was referred - with apologies and a taxi to a nearby hotel that I was told would cost about $10-$12 a night. So we get to the door and in comes the driver.
Now as things haven't been running smoothly I decided that I should check the price with the receptionist lest I receive an unpleasant surprise in the morning. I was told that it was $55 for the night. Now in my sleep deprived, slightly dehydrated and somewhat hungry state ( Airport Burger King - the only place that wasn't ridiculously priced - hadn't sat well) I decided that this was funny. And declined the offer at that price. After calming myself, I explained I had been told it was $12. After a brief conversation in Vietnamese with my driver, the receptionist - sensing my immense bargaining skills (or perhaps realising that at 00.15 on Sunday night my offer was the best coming) agreed to my price.
In its defense the room was very nice....
When I got up in the morning I realised that I had no idea where I was in relation to last nights hostel (Where I did have another two nights booked - incidentally I have since checked and it was THEIR mistake not mine - I have emails to prove it. There was also someone else that this happened to - methinks we got bumped for a BIG group). Anyway I was standing with the address in my hand when the receptionist from the previous night arrived in full national dress, removed her motorbike helmet and offered me a lift. what else could I do but accept? So out I moto'd into the Hanoi morning
About 15 minutes before take off, as we got ready to get on the plane, a lovely reassuring announcement came over then tanoy that our plane was having technical problems and there would be a delay of about an hour.
The delay (short by the standards of my trip so far as I'm sure my long term fans will know) didn't phase me in the slightest, although it did make me wonder about my pick up that I had arranged with the hostel at the other end.
About an hour after out intended arrival time, I filled in my medical questionnaire on the plane declaring my a1 fitness (ahem) and then wandered through to arrivals. The silly Belgian girl who admitted to headaches and a cough was taken away never to be seen again
As I feared there was no driver with a sign saying Eric Johnstone and as I'm such a genius I hadn't taken down the details ò the hostel I was to be staying at. So after a brief flirtation with admitting that I was indeed - as I was asked several times - Miss Julie Sanders I went and found an internet cafe to get the hostels phone number.
Now at this point, my ears hadn't popped from the plane journey, so the conversation but I managed to establish both that there was a giraffe somewhere on the motorway and also that there had been a problem with my booking, but that a driver would be here in 10 minutes to come and get me.
After an interesting drive (as in Laos - but not Thailand - they drive on the wrong side ò the road here) we arrived at the hostel only for me to be told, by the very sincerely sorry South African behind the counter, that the booking mix up meant that there was no space for me at the hostel, so I was referred - with apologies and a taxi to a nearby hotel that I was told would cost about $10-$12 a night. So we get to the door and in comes the driver.
Now as things haven't been running smoothly I decided that I should check the price with the receptionist lest I receive an unpleasant surprise in the morning. I was told that it was $55 for the night. Now in my sleep deprived, slightly dehydrated and somewhat hungry state ( Airport Burger King - the only place that wasn't ridiculously priced - hadn't sat well) I decided that this was funny. And declined the offer at that price. After calming myself, I explained I had been told it was $12. After a brief conversation in Vietnamese with my driver, the receptionist - sensing my immense bargaining skills (or perhaps realising that at 00.15 on Sunday night my offer was the best coming) agreed to my price.
In its defense the room was very nice....
When I got up in the morning I realised that I had no idea where I was in relation to last nights hostel (Where I did have another two nights booked - incidentally I have since checked and it was THEIR mistake not mine - I have emails to prove it. There was also someone else that this happened to - methinks we got bumped for a BIG group). Anyway I was standing with the address in my hand when the receptionist from the previous night arrived in full national dress, removed her motorbike helmet and offered me a lift. what else could I do but accept? So out I moto'd into the Hanoi morning
Bye Bye Bangkok and Thai
For the next while my blogs are going to be based on diary entries and therefor the tenses may well vary hugely. Also I am trying to use a keyboard set up for French and Vietnamese so the letters are changing on me an awful lot. so if any weird characters appear please excuse!
- So I'm sitting in the lobby of the hotel, waiting to meet up with Em for lunch. I've got about 6 hours left in what, historically speaking, has to be considered the luckiest country in South East Asia. there have been no civil wars of which to speak, there has been no American bombing raids to flush out the Communists, no brutal oppressive regimes that murdered their own people, no Imperial power running the country into the ground for its own ends, and there - probably because of all this - has been relative economic stability.
As a tourist, Thailand's privileged place acts as a mixed blessing. The good thing is that there is a strong infrastructure in place. The roads and railways are both there and work well. The journey estimates are not too bad, and especially on the trains, the level of comfort is high. The medical services which - touch wood, I have so far been lucky enough to avoid using are of a high quality and are able to deal with most problems.
The downside comes "with the westernisation" that money has brought to Bangkok (and a lot of the tourist hot-spots) these places have become overrun with Burger King, McDonald's, KFCs and 7 Elevens. There could potentially be more Thai restaurants in a square mile of NYC than in one in Bangkok.
That not to say that I'll leave with a negative impression. Having been in Asia for long enough to get used to the way of life, I have loved being back in Bangkok - and once they know I've been around I get no hassle from the touts and scam artists.
5pm - Airport
My plane just drove past the window with the slogan "now everyone can fly" written on the side. I just hope that's not the recruitment policy....
- So I'm sitting in the lobby of the hotel, waiting to meet up with Em for lunch. I've got about 6 hours left in what, historically speaking, has to be considered the luckiest country in South East Asia. there have been no civil wars of which to speak, there has been no American bombing raids to flush out the Communists, no brutal oppressive regimes that murdered their own people, no Imperial power running the country into the ground for its own ends, and there - probably because of all this - has been relative economic stability.
As a tourist, Thailand's privileged place acts as a mixed blessing. The good thing is that there is a strong infrastructure in place. The roads and railways are both there and work well. The journey estimates are not too bad, and especially on the trains, the level of comfort is high. The medical services which - touch wood, I have so far been lucky enough to avoid using are of a high quality and are able to deal with most problems.
The downside comes "with the westernisation" that money has brought to Bangkok (and a lot of the tourist hot-spots) these places have become overrun with Burger King, McDonald's, KFCs and 7 Elevens. There could potentially be more Thai restaurants in a square mile of NYC than in one in Bangkok.
That not to say that I'll leave with a negative impression. Having been in Asia for long enough to get used to the way of life, I have loved being back in Bangkok - and once they know I've been around I get no hassle from the touts and scam artists.
5pm - Airport
My plane just drove past the window with the slogan "now everyone can fly" written on the side. I just hope that's not the recruitment policy....
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