Month: May 2008

Cu Chi Tunnels

Tour for Cu Chi Tunnels was supposed to depart at 8:00am, but it was closer to 8:30 when we finally rolled off. I think I’d had too much coffee in the past 24 hours, because I was extra fidgety. The driver also refused to go over 30km/h, which was making me antsy as well.

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I thought we’d head straight to the tunnels, but there was a detour to a lacquer ware manufacturer run by people handicapped in (or as a result of) the war. Wasn’t really into it, so I was happy when we were back on the bus and heading to the tunnels.

At the tunnels, we bought our entry ticket, and headed to a partially submerged area, to watch a film on Cu Chi. It was pretty hilarious, with some interesting phrasing, such as “Like a batch of chickens with their heads cut off, the Americans shot into women and children, pots and pans…” and “Their motto was a hoe in one hand, and a gun in the other”. Didn’t paint the Americans in a very nice light.

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Tunnels themselves were pretty cool – we only got to crawl through a small portion, but considering how uncomfortable they were, it’s probably for the best. The way back we drove a little faster – passing loads of rubber trees on the way. Our driver redeemed himself by managing to finagle the bus around a major traffic jam.

Back in Saigon, I went to the market with Craig, a Kiwi I met on the tour.  We had some pho for lunch, then headed back – stopping at a big electronics store so Craig could look for a computer (he’s after an EEE – the same computer I had stolen from me).

I was going to watch Semi-Pro at the theatre across the street, but when I got there, Iron Man was still playing.  I didn’t feel like waiting around for the next movie to start, so I wandered around at night, and then hopped on the internet for a bit.  Was going to update this journal, but ended up chatting with a few people online instead.  Watched some tv in my room (program on cricket fighting was a little odd), and then went to bed.

The Artist Formerly Known As Saigon

Up early to get a taxi to Danang airport.  Not a bad drive, with some nice mountains dotting the scenery.  In Danang, I checked in, and grabbed a coffee from across the street – managing to spill a bit of it on my book, the second time I’ve spilled some coffee on the same title.

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It was a short flight, and I spent most of it finishing my book (“A Fine Balance”, which was excellent).  As I was waiting for my bag to round the conveyer belt, I noticed a small plastic bag float by.  It looked like the same bag that carried my camera charger.  I grabbed it and peeked inside – yep, my charger.  My bag showed up next, with an open pocket that once held my charger and my memory card reader. No sign of the memory card reader, so I waited around.  The belt was nearly clear, and my reader was nowhere to be found.  I was about to give up hope, when a french man placed the plastic bag holding the reader on the belt.  I ran and grabbed it, and headed to the exit.  The french guy asked for a dollar for his services, but he was only kidding.

I inquired about buses to the city, and found one for super cheap.   50 times what I would have paid a cab, most likely.  Took about half an hour, so not too slow either – and dropped me off exactly where I wanted to be.  I was the only foreigner, and a Vietnamese guy said he was impressed that I was taking it, as he’d never seen a white person on it before.

Checked out some guesthouses, before settling on one that seems pretty good.  It’s about seven or eight floors up, so climbing the stairs for the next few days should prepare me for any treks into the Himalayas I may undertake in the next little while.

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I wandered around for a bit, hoping to find the post office – but it seems to be hidden somewhere.  I booked a trip to the Cu Chi tunnels for the next morning, then killed some time before getting some Indian for dinner.

After dinner I headed to a place across from my guesthouse, to watch Iron Man.  They play movies every night.  It was a fancy theatre, but a not-so-great copy of the movie.  Good, except for when it got too dark.  Decent movie, regardless.  Robert Downey Jr. was great.  Talked to Mike on the internet for a bit, after the movie – then noticed the doors to my guesthouse being shut, and made tracks over there before I would be forced to scale the outside walls to reach my room.

My Son

My schedule is completely off, so I’m up early once again.  I have a trip to My Son scheduled for 8am, so I figure I may as well get some breakfast at the place across the street.  On the way back, I spot Philippe, who tells me he’s moved into my guesthouse, after being visited by some unwelcome visitors of the 6-leg variety in his guesthouse the night previous.  He’s also going on the My son trip, so we wait together for the bus, which arrives late.

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En route, our guide, Spider, gives us a bit of a history of the temples we’ll be seeing – insisting that we can’t compare them to Angkor Wat, because they’re much older.  He repeats himself a lot, so I eventually tune him out.  At the temple, we have to switch to a minibus and head to the site.  We get a rundown on the history, but it’s mostly the same thing we’ve already heard, and once again I tune him out.

We look around the temples, which are definitely nothing compared to Angkor Wat, and not even as impressive as Ayutthuya.  John had warned us that it was pretty small, and he was right.  After less than an hour, we head back to the bus to wait for the rest of the group, who isn’t far behind.

We’re dropped off near enough to the guesthouse, but we go looking for food first.  I have fish wrapped in a banana leaf, which gets an enthusiastic response from the waitress when I order.  After lunch, we decide we’ll rent some bikes, even though it looks like it could rain at any time.  We get our stuff to head to the beach, and as we’re leaving the guesthouse the rain starts to pour.  We stop at the internet cafe to kill some time while the rain dies down (if we’re gonna get wet, we want it to be in the sea.

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We finally make our way to the beach, and spend a good hour or so in the water, trying to do some body surfing.  When we get back to our stuff there’s a hawker selling her wares.  I watched her sitting by our towels th entire time we were in the water.  I buy some mentos, figuring she has had a slow day on account of the weather.  We get hammered by some other hawkers after that, all complaining about the slow day.  We order a pineapple each from two other hawkers, and then get accosted by another, who uses a lot of foul English idioms on us.  “Tourists teach me.” She tells me.  The bike ride home is nice, with the sun setting over the rice paddies.  Sadly, I didn’t bring my camera to the beach.  Possible theft trumps nice picture, this time.

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We grab Vietnamese (go figure) for dinner, and since I have to be up for 6am, decide to call it a night after Philippe does some shopping for silk lanterns.

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Hoi An

Woke up and headed to the internet cafe to have some dvds copied and a new dvd burned. I’m going with a two dvd system, now that I no longer have a hard drive. Got all of them done, except one copy – which failed, and seemed to have messed up the only computer with a dvd writer.

I wandered around old town, checking out the many art galleries, and grabbed some breakfast. I got an email from John and we decided to meet for a drink at Treat’s Cafe at 1pm. I headed there for 1, and waited around but he was nowhere to be found. After 20 minutes, I checked my email and there was nothing from him, so I figured I’d best check to see if there was another Treat’s Cafe in Hoi An. In Vietnam, there’s no copyright law, so there’s nothing to stop a company from opening another store/company with the exact same name. Turns out John was down the street at Re-Treat cafe, which is same same but different (Later I stumbled across a third Treat’s Cafe, so it’s really a problem).

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Had a lemon juice with John, and sat around and talked. He was heading to the beach, so I figured I’d wander through old town, then have a shower to cool down. Very hot day – and probably a better day for the beach. I read in my cool room, then got ready to meet Philippe (who just arrived in Hoi An) and John down by the river.

Met up with the boys, had a shake, then headed to Before and Now for dinner – which was recommended quite highly by Stefan and Magnus from the rock climbing in Van Vieng. After dinner (Italian, quite good), I headed back to the hostel to do some reading.

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Tailor Made

Woke up way too early.  Walking around old town for a bit, I gave in to the countless tailor shops, and had a pair of shorts made to wear around Asia, and more importantly at the gym when I get home.  I ordered another pair from another location, figuring if I really liked one, I could have a third pair ordered.

With time to kill before my shorts were finished, I grabbed some breakfast, then rented a bike and headed about 6kms east, towards the beach.  At the beach I ran into the American’s, Yasmine and Natalie, who’ve been following me since Krabi, Thailand.  I asked them where we were headed next, and they seem to be making a couple more stops than I had intended – I may have to revisit my itinerary.

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Lay on the beach, reading and getting some sun.  Eventually, after both sides seemed warm enough, and my chapter was done, I headed into the water.  The water was great, and it was possible to walk very far out without the water getting  too deep. I attempted some body surfing for a good while, then headed back to do some more reading.

After spending a lot longer than I expected at the beach, I headed back to the hotel for a shower, then grabbed some dinner.  My shorts were nearly ready to be tried on, so I headed down.  Not as great as I was hoping, but they might do the trick.  At least they weren’t too expensive.

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I got my next pair from the other shop, and they were a little better.  I wasn’t so pleased that I ordered a third pair, but they’ll do the trick, I think.  I checked my email back at the hotel, and saw that John (from Vientiane) was in Hoi An, and that he’d be watching football near my hotel.  I went in search of him, but didn’t have much luck finding him.  I wandered around a bit, and ran into some local kids who wanted to practice their English (or were just very friendly).  Chatted with them for a bit, then saw Thierry, from my cooking class, so I interrupted to talk with him for a bit.  They were heading out for a drink, but my clock was all messed up, and since I’d gotten up so early, I was in need of an early sleep.

Good Morning, Hue

In Hue, I figured I’d make the most of the morning and get a tour of the city by motorcycle. We hit a temple where the monks apparently practice kung fu. My driver/guide pointed to one monk and told me he was “very good kung fu” – but he had his arm in a cast, so who can say for sure. Next stop was Bunker Hill. The driver jumped on top of one of the bunkers and asked me to join him. I did, and he pointed with great admiration at the view of the river below us. Quite nice. I took a photo, then let him take one of me. The hill was pretty dull – there were some tombstones, but that’s about it. I thought Bunker Hill was in Massachusetts, so who knows.

We visited a pagoda next. Same as most of the other pagodas I’d seen. I didn’t waste much time there. My driver was waiting outside, not even done his cigarette by the time I returned. I told him to take his time, and checked out some of the seller’s stalls – but the Vietnamese are far too desperate for a sale, all grabbing at me to get me to look at their items (which are the same as everyone elses).

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Next we visited the citadel, which I’d seen from the from the bus. It could have been Lucca, Italy from the exterior, but inside was a bit different. Much of the citadel had been destroyed by the American’s in the war, so there really wasn’t too much to it. I had an hour to spend there, so I walked around, grabbed a pepsi in honour of Wayne’s birthday, then headed back to the driver.

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Next stop was Ho Chi Minh’s childhood home, which was definitely not worth the trip. I feigned a bit of interest, but there really wasn’t much to it. I got to see the river he used to swim in though.

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Back at the bus station I grabbed a half baguette that was so good, I had to order another. The bus to Hoi An was also uneventful – I saw the U.K couple that I’ve been following since Laos, but otherwise there isn’t much to say. In Hoi An I checked out a few hotels, then settled on one next to where I got dropped off. Seemed convenient enough.

I wandered through the old town, trying to get a feel for the place. There are a bunch of tailors in the area, and you can order a suit in the morning and pick it up in the evening. I’ve lost a little bit of weight in my travels, I think, but I don’t imagine it’ll be too long till I fill out the suit I had made in Shanghai.At night I flipped through the tv to see if there was anything on, but my book was far more appealing. I read for a bit, then slept – looking forward to sleep in an actual bed.

Put the V in Vietnam

Had a lousy sleep.  Someone somewhere on the train was smoking, which is never good, and the people in my car were pretty chatty.  In Hanoi, I searched for Marilyn, then decided it was futile and got a motorcycle to the hotel.  Left my bag there, then went in search of some breakfast.  Following breakfast, I went and grabbed a coffee at another cafe.  I think I’ve become slightly addicted to putting condensed milk in coffee.  At first it seemed a horrid idea, but it’s quite tasty (and sweet).

After breakfast I headed to the Ho Chi Minh Mausoleum, to check out Ho Chi Minh on display.  His mausoleum was quite cool, which was refreshing.  I thought it might be a little more solemn, with a few people crying, or something of that sort, but instead we were just funneled through to the heat of the outdoors on the other side.

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I checked out the Ho Chi Minh museum next, which was quite boring.  Apparently there’s a museum in every big town, which doesn’t surprise me too much.  There were a lot of curious art displays in the museum, which seemed out of place.

After the museum, I claimed my bag (no photos, no bags allowed) and hired a motorcycle to the post office.  At the post office, someone came up and offered to help me get some stamps. I tried to get some padded envelopes too, but they don’t seem to exist in Vietnam.  In the end I think the guy wanted some money for helping me, but I really couldn’t figure out what he was trying to tell me, so I just thanked him and walked off.

Back at the hotel, the internet wasn’t working, so I got on all fours and tried to fix the problem.  I managed in the end, much to the delight of the owner, who said the internet had been down since the evening I headed to Sapa.  In the end, the secret was to plug in the hub.  With power, comes internet.

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Now with two books to trade, I figured I should be able to get a new one in trade.  I headed to a shop I’d been at before, to see if they still had a title I was after.  They did, but since one of the books was a copy, I still had to pay a bit for the new title.  After that I got back to the hotel in time to catch the taxi to the bus terminal.  The bus to Hoi An was going to take 12 hours.  Not something I was looking too forward to, but at least it was a sleeper bus.

The sleeper bus wasn’t that comfortable, but probably better in the end then a regular bus.  I found out at the bus terminal that I actually wouldn’t be in Hoi An till about 5pm, as their was a layover in Hue.  I met a French guy, named Philippe, who was only going about two hours away, but we discussed possibly meeting up again in Hoi An.  At one point, I was awoken by a bang, and showered with what confetti, or something similar.  Turned out in the end to be tiny bits of shattered glass – seems something had hit the window of the bus leaving a sizable hole.  They patched it up with some tape, then swept the bus (and me) of glass.

Cat Cat

No trek in the morning, contrary to what I’d been told, so I wandered around the city again. Very small, and not much to see. I tried the internet, but the computers were dreadfully slow. I did some reading at the hotel, and eventually met up with the Danes and our guide for lunch. After lunch, we had to kill even more time, so we waited around for a bit before finally heading to the Cat Cat village.

It was a downhill walk, which meant an inevitable uphill walk. Lovely waterfall at the base (no idea where the water came from, really). We were offered a ride up by motorbike, but we all figured some exercise would do us good, and walked up on our own. Not so bad, in the end – but maybe I’ll feel it tomorrow? With a trip back to Hanoi in the sleeper car, I’m guessing I’ll have a difficult time determining the source of any aches and pains, anyhow.

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After returning to the hotel, we hung around for a bit, then decided to go grab a bit of food at the restaurant nearby. It was brand new, and run by an Australian fellow, who we chatted with for a bit. After our snack and hot chocolate (it’s quite cool in Sapa – but probably about 20 degrees or so – just seems cool by comparison to Southeast Asian temperatures) we headed back to the hotel. The girls had another day, so I bid them goodbye and got in a minibus to the train station. Another woman from the hotel, Marilyn from Singapore, was also going to the train station, and we both had a meal ticket to cash in at a restaurant downtown. We grabbed some food and tried to kill some time – we had about 3 hours before the train was ready to depart.

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Eventually we boarded, parting ways onto our separate cars. I was at the highest level this time, so I got settled for the night.

Oh, Very Young!

Stepping off the train, the first people I ran into were Ceceile and Louise, from the Halong trip. Turns out they were headed to the same hotel, so we all got into the same minibus and made our way there. At the hotel, there was a group of hill tribe people waiting for us. They greeted us, and asked the questions we’d hear asked over the next couple of days “Where are you from?”, What’s your name?”, “How many brothers, how many sisters?”, “How old are you?”, followed by a “Oh, very young!” after any answer. There English was really quite good, for a bunch of people who live in shacks in the hills of Vietnam.

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For some reason, I never quite determined, the Danes and I were ushered back onto the bus, and taken to another hotel. Not as fancy looking, but still not too shabby – we checked in, showered, and met in the restaurant for lunch. Next we met our guide, and headed out for our first trek.

Accompanying us on the trek were three tribeswoman, with a few others popping in to say hello on occasion. Their village was 7kms away, but they make the trek daily. We kept waiting for them to spring a “Can you give me some money” on us, but they didn’t. Of course, when we got to their village they were keen to sell us some wares. The girls gave in, but I wasn’t really keen on anything. Most of all, not too keen on carrying it for the next little while.

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We stopped at the guesthouse where the girls would be spending the night. There were a bunch of traditional garments around,and the girls played dressup, and forced (yes, forced) me to dress up too. After a couple of hours of sitting around there, I said goodbye and headed back to Sapa by motorbike.

Dinner wasn’t until 7, so I wandered around the city, hoping to find Lynette and Li Sa, but with no luck. The hilltribe girls still in the city tried to sell me their wares. One lady, who looked to be about 70, but was probably younger, offered me marijuana, coke, and opium. “No thanks”, “No thanks”, “No thanks”. A younger girl, 16, although she looked much younger, struggled to grasp the notion that I didn’t want anything. First she told me she was getting married the next day, to a boy who she loved, but didn’t do anything but smoke cigarettes and talk to his friends. Then she told me that she was actually never likely to get married, because it was cost a possible suitor too much money. Approximately $100, she told me. At 7, I ate dinner with the hotel staff. Good feast, but way too much food – as they kept adding more and more to my plate. I was exhausted afterwards, so I headed to sleep soon after.

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So Long, Halong

With my precarious sleeping position, it wasn’t too hard to get up early and try and catch the sunrise.  Much to my dismay, it was too misty, once again, for a proper sunrise.  I tried getting back to sleep, but that proved difficult, even with my handy Virgin Airline provided sleep mask.

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Our first stop of the day was Cat Ba, to drop off the American’s and Australian.  I thought we might have some time to explore the island, but sadly we did not.  The boat was loaded up with a few fresh souls – Vietnamese by the looks of them.  We headed back to Halong City, and sat for too long at the terminal, once again, waiting to go for lunch.

Lunch was quick, and basic.  I ate with Lynette and Li Sa, then we got back on our bus and made our way back to Hanoi. An uneventful journey, save for the aftermath of an accident we rolled by. A motorbike stood perfectly erect, wedged under a dump truck.  Someone, police perhaps, used pink chalk to trace a few items on the ground, including a strewn bicycle and a handbag.  No sign of the riders, but hopefully things weren’t as bad as they looked like they might be.

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I had some hours to kill in Hanoi, so, after saying goodbye to Henri, and “see you later” to Lynette and Li Sa, who I figured I’d see on the train to Sapa, I dropped my bag off at the hotel, and went in search of a book.  No luck getting a decent trade on my book, so I gave up, figuring I’d stick solely with the not-so-great book I was currently reading.  As I headed back to the hotel, one of the fellows selling books on the street offered me a selection from his box of photocopied books.  I bargained him down on a copy of Catch 22, which was great – even though I’ve got even more to weigh down my new bag now.

One of the guys at the hotel took me to the train station on his motorcycle.  Crazy driver, but I arrived in one piece.  Sat in the train station for a bit, but no sign of anyone from the Halong trip.  Enough people filed past, that I assumed the train had arrived, so I grabbed my bags and found my spot.  It took a while for others to join me in the sleeping car, but they were all Vietnamese, and only one, an older lady, spoke any English.  She was a music teacher, and proceeded to pull out her video camera and show me a performance of her on guitar in some Hanoi bar.  I pressed the camera to my ear, but it was pretty difficult to hear.  She told me I had to come see her at the bar when I was back in Hanoi.

The sleeper cars were more similar to the European sleepers, with a high third berth (although these had ample bars to protect one from falling to one’s death or serious injury). Thankfully I was in the middle berth, so I didn’t have to worry too much anyhow.  Unlike the beds on the European sleepers, the mattresses here were frighteningly thin.  I may have been sleeping on a tabletop.  That said, I slept pretty well.  I think I’ve inherited my father’s ability to sleep anywhere.

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