Wet day

Today’s been really wet and cold. Steve’s on earlies at the moment so we got in to work just after half seven. Was due to meet Brian up at uni at 9, so left work about twenty minutes early, caught the cable car up to the university, struggled through the wind and rain, arrived out of breath at the Von Zedlitz building…and he wasn’t there. I hung around for a while but wound up just leaving a note and heading back down the hill to work. It was a bummer that we missed each other but quite good really to get out of work for a while and take a breather.

We went round again to the house at lunchtime, for our inspection before we get the keys (hopefully tomorrow)! Everything looked good, the whole house was feeling light and clean and dry. Cold though. We’ve been looking at using wool for our ceiling insulation, rather than Pink Batts (fibreglass) in the ceiling and walls, and the polystyrene stuff that you fit under the floors. Meant to be good for breathe-ability, moisture absorption, warmth, plus it’s made from a renewable resource (non-petroleum based!). Bonus all round, really. The prices are comparable to Pink Batts as well.

I’m hanging out for the weekend; this week’s been another really busy one, with new craft groups joined, a mortgage signed for, work done on my research essay, knitting done, training for the people who are taking over my tasks once I leave my job… and I got a call this morning to say my roosters had been framed and I could come and pick them up!

(Perhaps a bit of explaining’s required. Steve and I were wandering around the art shops in Hoi An, back during our Vietnam trip, and I was trying to decide whether I should buy something or not. There was a lot of great modern art, and quite a lot of production line stuff as well. We were poking around when suddenly I saw it, the painting I had to have, that I knew would forever remind me of that moment. It was (is!) of a couple of gaudy looking roosters, on a dark green background, in oils. The main feature of the painting is their flamboyant, playful, gorgeously colorful tail plumage. It had a heavy black frame and looked like it had been up in the corner of the gallery for quite a while. They seemed surprised that I liked it but took the painting down and removed it from the frame and the canvas (the back of the canvas was stained and old), rolled it up and sealed it in a tube for me! There was just something about it that I loved, that spoke to me. I bought it.)

Because the painting was so kooky I knew I had to get a special frame for it.  In the end I picked a heavy, rich dark wood, with waves in it that echoed the splay of the roosters’ tails. Picking it up today the woman behind the counter was gushing over it, saying how perfect the frame looked for the painting. I can’t believe how good it looks - it echoes the weirdness of the painting, but the colour, heaviness and thickness of the wood gives it a bit of polish, or gravitas, or something.

I reckon I’ll put it up over the couch, and take you a photo.

Still on Phu Quoc

Fried rice with egg for breakfast, and ca fe sua da - coffee with condensed ilk and ice. It’s warm today ad I have a heat rash on the backs of my thighs. I also think I’ve been bitten in the night - there’s spots of what could be blood on the sheets. I’ll try the sleeping bag liner tonight be it gets so hot at night… in that respect I’m looking forward to sleeping in my own bed soon. Everything itches like crazy and flies follow you everywhere.

Tomorrow’s our last day here - then we go to Saigon.

There are four dogs who live here - hunting dogs of some kind, with splotchy red and bluish-black tongues. One has a large wound on its back leg, which Sau says is a knife wound (apparently the neighbours commonly lash out at the dogs, saying they are after their chickens), and another has a perfectly round hole in the vicinity of its bottom - from a slug gun maybe? In any case, they pant and sleep on the wooden floors of the open air restaurant during the day, and collectively howl at and change things in the night (including passing boats I think). They’re covered in scars and fleas, but have the cutest faces and eyes, and come sit by you with mournful looks when you’re eating your dinner.

Work on the pier seems to have stopped - though perhaps they quit for the weekend. That said, most people here work round the clock, every day. I don’t think there is such thing as a holiday, except perhaps for Tet (Viet. new year). How do they do it? The same, I suppose, as it was back in the days before ‘workers’ rights’ - like something out of Dickens. A father dies, children have to quit school and go to work. Most people’s businesses and shops are out the front of their houses, so they work, sleep and live all in the same place. And I, on the other hand, go on about not having enough free time to write and spin, and mess around, and who considers part-time work so as to have even more spare time!! They work twelve- to fifteen-hour days. I work eight, and get an hour for lunch in the middle. It must seem so unfair to them. They work so much harder for so much less. Hauling in the nets for fish. Making clothing for little more than the cost of the materials.

It’s getting to the point now, being here, when I don’t look out across and through the coconut trees, and out to sea, but just look out to all my different thoughts now.

Island Life

There is a gecko in our bungalow who keeps trying to get into my peanut sesame rice crackers I bought from the woman in Hoi An. We’ve had to throw the whole melted mess into the rubbish - the gecko can have it!!

Here at the Thang Loi resort on Phu Quoc Island, little thatched bungalows are dotted in amongst coconut trees. Apparently this place is set on an old coconut plantation. There are all sorts of things here: geckos, which chirp, smaller, non-chirping lizards, rhinoceros beetles, all sorts of ants, cicadas (which bomb the tables in the restaurant, sit stunned for a moment, and then zoom off again), small hoppy spiders with white feet, and mosquitos - especially around dusk, when they come out with a vengeance!

Further up the beach, where the people and buildings peter out, and you can see all the rubbish that’s been washed ashore (fishing lures, styrofoam, single plastic shoes, bits of netting, plastic bags, etc.) there are also jellyfish - ranging from small umbrella shaped blobs, to huge mushrooms with thick tentacles as round as my thumb. As well as the jellyfish there are crabs of all sizes, but mostly small. Perhaps the large ones are caught and eaten. Up there, you can also see boys and men reeling in these huge nets that they throw out, way out at sea, then haul back in again. Steve tried to take a photo of a couple of boats moored in the middle of nowhere, and a man shook a stick at him.

Hans said they could have been smugglers. Cambodia’s only about 20km away from here by boat. Surely many people come out in little boats, once it’s dark, and trade or sell cigarettes, gasoline - and people. Hans is the manager here. He rents this place from the owner, Reinhard, for most of the year. He’s german, 50, with grey hair cut in a crew cut, a completely laconic personality, and beer belly. From the sound of it he has a hell of a time with this place - the staff in particular. Apparently they fight and bicker between themselves non-stop, and to make matters worse, the woman who used to be manager and who was fired about two years ago, for “being greedy”, still tries to make trouble with Sau, the current manager.

Sau called the police because this woman and her family stop her every morning when she’s trying to get to the market. They threaten to do things like throw nails on the road, etc. There was a huge fight over here one day, that I could hear from the balcony of our bungalow, where I was reading. Apparently the woman wasn’t happy after being visited by the police.

Sau, which means ‘six’ in Vietnamese, is the sixth of eight children. She’s now 62, and is working here to help out her family who live in the Mekong Delta somewhere. She really really misses them, but the pay is good here. The hassle from the woman down the road doesn’t seem worth it though. She said it’s difficult to find work because back in the seventies, after the Americans pulled out of Vietnam; she’d been working for someone in the US Air force for 6 or so years. When the Americans left though, and the VC took over, she burned her papers - not a good look to have been working for the enemy. Her husband had been in the military too, but for the Viet Minh (or whatever it was that the Viet Minh became after Dien Bien Phu and the departure of the French). He apparently got rid of his uniform too. It’s all sad and complicated. You want to help but what can you do?

We have another two full days here on Phu Quoc, before we head to Saigon. We’re there for a day and a half but I suspect it’s not going to be the high point of the trip. I hope we can do something other than mope about the end of our holiday. It really has been incredible, and Sapa, and even Hue, seem like so long ago. I don’t want to go back to work, but I am looking forward to doing so many other things - to making some real changes in my life. #1 is finding a new job. What was meant to be temporary has stretched out far longer than I ever intended. It’s really time to move on.

I also want to get a bigger place to share with Steve. We really don’t have any room at all where we are. I don’t know where, but we need at least a couple of bedrooms, with good storage, a garage, and reasonably close to town. And some sort of yard! You never know, it could happen.

Going to Phu Quoc

We’re sitting in the restaurant/bar at the Saigon International Airport, waiting for our plane to Phu Quoc Island. We’re going to be staying there for seven days. I can’t wait. Our bags are bulging with souvenirs, including two pith helmets for Ben & Ben (green with star), two oil paintings (one framed, one rolled in a plastic tube), a china and bamboo tea set, some more china plates and bowls and spoons (for two), at least three chopstick sets, six or seven t-shirts, a host of tailored clothes, three lanterns, two fans, four or five scarves, a lacquered box, two silk sleeping bag liners, four hats, four new pairs of shoes, and a colour picture of Ho Chi Minh that I intend to frame and hang on the wall, in the manner of the people in Hoi An.

There are also: two wall hangings, a blanket, a couple of bags, an opium pipe, a wooden statue, a bag of silk, two tiger balms, an embroidered tablecloth, one and a half kilograms of weasel-poo coffee, a couple bags of tea, three stainless steel coffee drip cups, two pancake pans, one large (55l) backpack, one book of old Vietnamese stamps two tubes containing at least five propaganda posters, a set of drink coasters, one chinese-made casio watch, one pair sunglasses, several postcard packs, two lacquered photo albums, cinnamon toothpick holder (x1), and one regular toothpick holder, a kitchen set including multi knife, crinkle cut knife and a grater/peeler, one mouth harp, two nose flutes, two wooden cut stamps, two books, eight CDs, four DVDs, and a bottle of flammable corn wine from Bac Ha market. Oh, and one silk (maybe) kimono. And all still under our baggage limit!

P.S. also knitting needles, hair clips, buffalo horn salad tongs and horn hair pins.

Hoi An

Amazing that it’s Friday yet it’s taken until now (3:40pm) for me to realise. Another end to another working week - but fortunately I’ve been left off the ride for a few merciful (but brief) weeks.

I’m in a cafe. Steve’s ridden a bike to the beach for the afternoon - I guess in an attempt to purge himself of the shopping that’s been going on lately. To date I’ve ordered 3 skirts, one pair of pants, one white collared shirt, a kimono, a corduroy jacket and four pairs of shoes to be made. I’ll be a brand new girl when I get back to New Zealand. Incredible.

But now my ordering, etc. is finished. All I need to get now is two Ho Chi Minh green hats for Ben and Ben, and I think I’m done with shopping. It’s kind of a relief!

This woman just came by, who I bought some sweet peanuts on rice cracker from yesterday. She stopped and said hello just ow and gave me some more! She refused to take any money either. So sweet. I also had a conversation with a moterbike taxi man (xe om) whose daughter lives in Waihi beach - he visited her last year. It’s so nice when you can just speak with people and not have a financial transaction between you.

Sticky teeth! Think I will pay for my 7up (7,000 d) and walk back to the hotel for a read until I go pick up my kimono at 5pm. Also need to get some cash to pay for the shoes and another shop also. Oops. Have I over-extended?

More pics from Hoi An:

Hue

We’re sitting in a lovely cafe in Hue, called “Tomten’s bar - gallery”. There’s a pool table in the middle, a huge bamboo ceiling, and gorgeous lacquered paintings on the walls.

A song about ‘beautiful blue eyes’ is playing. We’re the only ones in here, and the man who owns this place has a real penchant for country music - mind you, when we first arrived here, it was so hot and we were so exhausted, we spent 3 hours here on the 16th, drinking cocktails (banana daiquiris and Vietnamese rum) and playing pool and he played the Fleetwood Mac album ‘Rumors’… it’s sweet and a bit surreal listening to music like that when everything else is in another language.

Just sitting here’s so peaceful. It makes you feel as if life’s just held its breath for a moment, and you’ve been given a bit of a respite for a while. I just think of all the different people we’ve met, where they’re from, and all the places I want to visit or return to, and it makes me feel a little sad.

(A song called ‘Stoney’ is playing.)

It’s a difficult feeling to describe. The closest I can get to is how I felt when I read Jostein Gaarder’s Sophie’s World, and reading Jitterbug Perfume and The Agony and the Ecstasy while traveling through Italy. I feel like I’ve escaped the trappings of what I have to do and am instead floating wonderfully. You get bumped along by sights and sounds, but also by a song playing in a bar, or a painting, or a book. They shape you. You grow. You feel things deeply. You feel again. Fear, nervousness, concern, relaxation, joy. You smile and laugh more. You think about what sort of life you want to live. You understand the things you don’t want in your ‘regular life’ better. You think of gardens, and art and music, of taking risks and trying things out. All of it - travel, study, family. I think about the sort of person I want to be: cultured, learned, traveled, happy with family.

(later.) In a cafe called DMZ Bar. Pool table, walls, ceiling, eve hooded light over the pool table are covered in graffiti by people from all over the world - including NZ. Someone’s written ‘Pukunui 8 the Taniwha’ and ‘cher bro!’ Hehe. Using free email and drinking Huda.

(later.) On the bus to Hoi An now. Met a nice couple, while waiting for the bus, from Switzerland, who were “homesick for Laos”.

Yesterday we went to the DMZ - about 170km north of Hue. It was set up as a buffer zone between North & South Vietnam (around the 17th parallel), during the period after Vietnam agreed to split for around 300 days, into North and South. The communists (and Ho Chi Minh) were based in the north, while the anti-communists (pro-Catholic) were based in the south.

We saw a great deal - “The Rockpile” which the US used as a great lookout post, Khe Sanh combat base (which the US was run out of, 10 days before the Tet Offensive), a great bridge marking the start of the Ho Chi Minh trail, and the Vin Moc tunnels, which the sympathisers in the north lived in, after their fishing village was bombed. They stayed there in order to continue the supply line, from the National Vietnamese Army, down the Ho Chi Minh trail to the Viet Cong (Vietnamese Communists) who were engaged in guerrilla tactics in the south.

Agent Orange was used indiscriminately on all of the jungle in the area, causing massive defoliation and abnormalities in up to 4 generations of children - used primarily to try to find out where the Ho Chi Minh trail was - but apparently the “Ho Chi Minh trail” was actually a network of over 16,000 km of trails, from north to south, east to west - so it was impossible to find all the trails and block supplies.

The Vinh Moc tunnels were incredible - 16 entrances, some by the beach, others up in the hills - all disguised.

We went through about 700m of the tunnels, and saw everything from family enclaves, barely large enough to fit a bed in, to a maternity ward where during the course of three or so years, 17 children were born. They took 18 months to dig out by hand. Incredible.

Cha Ca La Vong

After a lazy sleep-in, then chicken pho, some internet time (no email from parents), we caught a couple of xe-oms to the army museum, but unfortunately it’s closed until 1:00 (or quite possibly 1:30). We’re now in a park just off Lenin Square, enjoying the shade, as it’s more than a little hot!

Last night we went to #14 Pho Cha Ca Street (Cha Ca La Vong Restaurant) for some Cha Ca - the Hanoi speciality, gorgeous fish cooked in front of you, then mixed with a couple of cups of herbs (mint, coriander, spring onion, plus other greens) and then ladled over sticky rice noodles, and served with a chili dipping sauce, toasted peanuts, and more fresh herbs. Delish!

We also found this great store selling old communist propaganda posters - including some original ones going for up to $70 US a pop. They were really great though. We bought some smaller ones at $7 US each, and then I went back to get one for Ben (Ho Chi Minh and Lenin). A good pressie, I reckon.

I really like it here - people are so nice. Most will smile at you, make eye contact, etc., even shake your hand. The streets can get pretty manic though!

Halong Bay

We’re now back in Hanoi, after a fantastic three days in Halong Bay. We spent most of the time travelling around the incredible limestone karsts on gorgeous wooden junks.

We spent the first night on the boat, and the second at Cat Ba Plaza hotel, on Cat Ba Island. In between, we kayaked, went on a two hour hike in the Cat Ba National Park, where we met an old couple who had moved there from the mainland, 20 years ago, and who go out once a month for rice and other supplies but grow everything else themselves.

We ate lunch on a deserted beach (aside from a Parisian couple who were rowed over from their boat for a swim!). All of the meals were wonderful - beautiful and fresh, tasty and filling. The drinks on board were expensive though, easy to spend $10 on beer and water in one day. Still, in the larger scheme of things it wasn’t an issue.

We had such a great time!

A sensory experience!

people plowing rice fields with water buffalo

lush green gardens & banana palms

busses passing trucks passing scooters

cone-shaped hats bent over rice paddies

communist star flags flying over buildings, boats, everywhere…

people crossing busy streets with two baskets on a yoke

girls riding bicycles while holding umbrellas

five people on one scooter

“trucks” consisting of a rotary plow pulling a huge wagon

woman crouching on her heels, selling gum

piles and piles of baskets, and rush/brush brooms

huge russian and chinese trucks from the seventies

people walking around in green army hats

big baskets filled with fresh herbs

“gentleman in the nighttime” flowers on Cat Ba Island

burning rice stalks on the side of the highway

large piles of bricks everywhere

narrow, four- or five-storied buildings with a balcony on top

fresh beer from a bia hoi

huge stands of bamboo

ice coffee made from strong coffee, ice, and condensed milk

long roads that seem to go nowhere, and end abruptly

a farmer leading two water buffalo (one a baby) and two cows down the main road

hazy skies - sun a dim ball in the sky

passing shrines / graveyards in the middle of the countryside

pagodas perched on top of karsts in Halong Bay

swimming in the South China Sea

eating an orange with a green rind, picked for you by a woman who lives in the middle of Cat Ba National Park with her husband and eight or so puppies

riding over waterfalls while on the back of a motorbike in Sapa

large bonsai-esque trees in beautiful ceramic pots

fresh coconuts and pineapples for sale by the side of the road

sunglass street. towel street. herb street. temple street. blacksmith street. silks street. toy street. (Hanoi)

weasel poo coffee

Cat Ba Island / Bac Ha Market and Goodbye to Sapa

Can’t believe I’m still catching up on the Sapa trip. Things have been so incredibly busy and it’s so difficult to write in the evenings when you’re really tired.

Anyway, right now we’re on a boat leaving Cat Ba Island in Ha Long Bay. It’s 8:30 in the morning and crazy to think of what I do on most other mornings at 8:30.

Anyway, back to the market. It was totally crammed with Flower H’mong people - all carrying things and selling - food, animals, silver, embroidery… apparently it is the main point of social contact for them, so you’d see them in big groups together, all having a good time… old men drunk and staggering on corn wine, big covered areas where they serve pho, market after market stall, an area where all the animals were being sold (ducks, chickens, water buffalo, puppies, etc…)

We wandered around - in some places it was really crowded, mostly with H’mong people but also lots of tourists. Steve and I ssat down at a food stall, even though lunch was at some restaurant somewhere. I think we were some of the only whiteys who actually sat down to eat the real food. People don’t seem too surprised to see you sit down next to them, but at the same time, they find it funny if you want some of the chili sauce, etc. A woman fed rice noodles to a baby beside us, while on the other side was a slightly-rowdy guy. Drunk maybe.

We saw a few tourists stop and point at us, no doubt amazed that we’d “gone native”, food-wise. (It was weird, meeting people who had been told back in their home countries “not to eat anything fresh”, because of the water, or whatever. It was weird, and a real shame, because the food was so amazing. They missed out on so much.)

I bought a watch (!) at the market - a 10,000d Casio digital watch, complete with alarm and light. Steve had to take the back off and insert a piece of plastic cut from a battery pack to get the third button to connect though.

We also bought a bottle of sweet corn wine, that we’d seen women selling in large tanks and small re-filled water bottles. We couldn’t tell if it was alcohol or petrol, at first. One woman I made the drinking motion to just looked away, but another smiled and nodded. It cost us 5,000d (50 cents!) and I’ve heard it’s flammable - at least 30%. We’ve only made it through a little bit so far.

All in all though, it was an incredible place to see.

The bus back to Sapa took three or four hours. Along the way, (near Lao Cai) we stopped at the Chinese border. It was quite surreal, as the only thing separating Vietnam from China (other than a few gates and bridges) was a river, so you could see right across the river (The Red River) to China.

Back in Sapa, we were put up in the other hotel - some partnership arrangement - which was three star instead of two star - which had a huge balcony out the front, and commanding views of the “flower valley”, which was unfortunately shrouded in cloud. A double bed! A shower and a bath! Disposable slippers!

We showered and went for dinner. It was a set menu - a bit strange, consisting of pumpkin soup, fruit curry, rice and spring rolls. We were still a bit hungry afterwards, but flaked out anyway.

The next morning, at 9:00am, we went with another guide on a hike to Cat Ca Village. The walk wound down the hills, down through a pretty village, where we were allowed to have a look inside a woman’s house. I bought some beautiful woven scarves!

We walked back up to Sapa - there was a bit of a drizzle so we were glad we’d brought our ponchos - and then had the rest of the day to ourselves before our bus back to Lao Cai left at 6:30.

We decided to go for a wander around Sapa. At first we just explored the surrounding area - the market there (I got a Sapa t-shirt!) and stopped for lunch at a little place. I don’t know if you’d call it a restaurant, as such, maybe cafe is a better word. In any case, they are often part of someone’s house, with four or five tables, possibly bia hoi and sometimes other things for sale. This place had bottled beer, made a beautiful fried rice and steamed spring rolls (wrapped in cabbage) and sold various “wines” (up to 20%, say?), like honey wine, medicine wine, etc., and packs of herbs, including dried starfish, and one that had a dried lizard on it.

From there we wandered up to the town square, and then to a large lake, lined with government buildings and a guest house.

A guy crashed his scooter right in front of us! On a straight road! I don’t know what he was looking at, but next thing there were sparks and he was sliding down the road underneath his bike. He leapt up, got back on his scooter and then raced back down the road, the way he’d come. We saw him stop a hundred or so metres down the road and have a look at his knee. Poor guy.

The rest of Sapa was quite beautiful, with a real alpine feel about it. There were an awful lot of huge hotels, which I found a bit surprising. Flash French restaurants.

We decided we’d go check out this restaurant that we’d seen earlier, that sold H’mong food, called the Green Sapa Restaurant. We went upstairs and found ourselves face-to-face with an old man in a beret, with an animated face. He brought us inside (basically his living room) and asked if we, since it was cold, would share some plum wine with him. We knocked back a couple, then he got out the “medicine wine” - made from medicine plants from Mt Fancipan (which was where he was originally from). It was actually very good.

Then his daughter arrived and he told her what we’d ordered, and she set about cooking it (H’mong grilled pork and fried fish with lemon). He went off to the market and left us with a cute wooden set of Connect-4, to keep us busy.

The food was delicious, and when the old man returned, he challenged Steve to a game of chess. It was such a funny game, he came out guns blazing, and completely annihilated Steve. We had to run to the bus, but I think we grinned all the way back to Lao Cai on the bus, it was so neat.

Trekking in Sapa

We’re on the mini bus to Ha Long Bay. Quite a few others on board, including some paranoid americans who didn’t want to give up their passports. We’ve been driving through towns, past coal-fuelled power plants, rice paddies, shitty houses and ritzy estates.

Anyway… back to the Sapa catch-up.

From the get-go we were accompanied by loads of H’mong girls, all asking your name, where are you from, that sort of thing. Their English is all self-taught, which is pretty amazing. They’re damn pushy when they want you to buy something, but really you can’t blame them for it. The only time it got to be a bit much was when we were at the homestay and twenty or so women surrounded us, blankets raised. They stuck around for hours (but did not come inside the house). - but more on the homestay in a sec.

The area we walked around was incredible - high peaks with terraced gardens going all the way up to the top. Wandering through the rice paddies were ducks (and ducklings), chickens (and chicks), water buffalo, pigs, the odd dog, and we even saw a monkey sleeping under the eaves of a house.

Aside from rice paddies, etc. people in the villages had private gardens too, usually fenced with woven bamboo. Really very pretty. We stopped for lunch in one H’mong village (again, the hawking women couldn’t come inside) and had an interesting lunch - baguettes, an asian-style omlette, and other stir fried veggies, as well as fresh cucumber and tomato! We set out again and our little mountain goats followed us.

Steve made friends with one girl whose name sounded like “Shaun”, so something like Xuan? I don’t know. Anyway, she and he chatted away together for hours, she made us horses made from grass, and little twisted ferns. She was really very cute.

So eventually we got to the homestay - a house owned by a family of five generations, starting from the 100 year old great great grandfather, his 79 year old son, and extending down to the wee baby. The old man walked around bent in half, but seemed to spend most of his time by the fire in the kitchen. I did see him once though, standing around the corner of the house, peeking at us.

The house itself was really interesting: one large main room, with kitchen off to the side in a smaller room, and a sort of mezzanine loft up top, which was where we slept. (Seven of us in all - Steve & I, a couple from Barcelona, a couple from Solvenia, and another woman originally from Gisborne.)

Our guide - Tao, and a few of the other men, made our dinner. It was spectacular! I sat in the kitchen and watched them cook. Fried spring rolls (nem), something called ‘pop rice’, which is young sticky rice that is soft and glutinous, mixed with pork and tofu, barbequed beef, cabbage, regular rice…

The old man was so cute, off to the side, stretching his hands out to the fire from time to time, to warm them!
We ate outside (the women with the blankets had left by then, I guess off to have their own dinners), and drank rice wine with Tao (to raise your glass in Vietnam you yell “Showwwww!” - but I have no idea how you spell it.)

Tao then told us it’s a good thing if one person takes the wine into the family and drinks a cup with them (they stayed inside). Steve went in, then we all followed (which Tao said was especially nice) and we drank another shot of rice wine with the family.

We stayed outside for a good while after, drinking beer and exchanging stories. Bed around 11.

Steve and I had to get up early the next morning as we were leaving the group, who were doing another day’s worth of trekking. We were meant to meet a jeep, which was going to take us back to Sapa, so we could go to the Bac Han market.

Going to Sapa

Finally a chance to write!

Things have really been go-go-go for the last four days or so. It’s always horrible to go back and try to recount what you’ve been up to. Today, however, was pretty relaxed, so I feel like I’ve finally got the chance to write an entry - more than scribbled notes.

On Friday night we caught an overnight train up to a town called Lao Cai, which is up near the Chinese border. Getting there was an absolute mission, as Friday was the Autunm Moon Festival, and there was absolute gridlock in the streets! Scooters everywhere, everyone honking, no-one able to get through.

We had to race out to the square with these two Asian-Australian guys (who turned out to be really good value) and hail a cab. I wasn’t feeling too well as we’d spent the afternoon at a Bia Hoi drinking 20 cent (2,000 d) glasses of beer and I felt so bloated and ill. (Beer was beautiful though.) We got taken slowly to the train station, through the chaos, and found ourselves amid even more chaos - people everywhere, we didn’t know what was going on, we were just standing there waiting for a guy from the hotel to get our tickets for us (in retrospect, it would have been more straight forward if we had got them ourselves but there’s a fair amount of hand-holding that seems to go on).

Finally got the tickets, and then we were off again, following him over tracks and around trains, pretty willy-nilly it seemed, till we found ourselves in a carraige of “soft sleepers” (as opposed to hard sleepers) - nothing like the wood panelled picture we’d been shown… still, the mattresses were soft, though I wish I could say the same for the trip! It was pretty rough going. We woke with a start at 6am when we realised the train had stopped. We quickly threw everything together and stepped out into the station.

There were people everywhere holding up cards with names on them - none of them ours. We stood around for a while, getting more and more nervous, when finally a guy with a clipboard came over and luckily we were on the list.

We hopped on a bus and found ourselves winding up into the hills, past small villages, people on bikes and scooters, animals - dogs, water buffalo, children walking to school, people standing outside their houses watching the world go by… they all go by so quickly, each one’s like a picture postcard, or a poem you read and then forget.

We wound up and up, into the mountains and into the mist. Cloud, really. We were dropped off at a place called The Royal View Hotel (or something), where we again found ourselves in chaos - this time, a hotel full of tourists. No-one knew exactly what we were doing,  but it was all soon cleared up, and it came out that we were going to be doing a hike that day, and then staying at a farmstay in one of the villages. After a quick breakfast of Pho Bo, we met our guide, Zao, who led us off on our hike out of Sapa. We walked down hill, past women and men in brightly-colored embroidered clothing, the H’mong people, one of the minority groups from up in the hill country surrounding Sapa.

On plane to Hanoi

On plane to Hanoi. Successfully nagivated baggage claim and customs in Malaysia, found the shuttle to our hotel and caught it. It was only about 5 minutes or so away - Concorde Hotel - and we checked in (first in line! same with the passports!) and were taken to our room by a porter. It was hot and muggy - hit us like a wave when we got off the plane. Swimming in soup. Room luckily had air-con but it took a while to come on.

We watched the end of a Malaysian cop TV show, and the start of a soap opera (concerned with whether or not some daughter would be returning to Australia or not) but fell asleep. Oh, and a shower. That was wonderful. Bed was king size, tons of room to spread out and relax cramped, tired limbs.

I can’t believe we’re really here! Will probably be my mantra for the next few days I suspect.

Our plan, from here, is to get some dong out at the airport and then, rather than catching a taxi ($10 USD), hopping on the number seven bus which goes all the way to the northern shore of Lake Hoan Kiem. Apparently it takes about an hour. From there we’ll scope out a place to stay and have a wee wander. So not much of a plan, really, just a little idea of what we’ll do when we land.

It’s really nice to be travelling with Steve. He’s so relaxed and easy-going and relaxing too. He’s happy to cruise and look around, isn’t materialistic or funny but I can tell he’s anxious to make sure I’m having a good time, etc.

I can’t believe I’m going to Vietnam!

*************

 Nasi Lemak for brunch on plane. Yum!

*************

(later - about 8pm) So much has happened in the last eight hours! What a wonderful rush it all is!

Got off the plane, expecting to be accosted at every turn, instead saw a smiling woman in the money changer and some cute wee kids who stared and giggled sitting next to me as I waited for Steve (who was in the toilet). Initial first impressions are always tricky to capture, because things get built upon and re-shaped as you experience more. We were going to get the bus but couldn’t find it - were approached by a couple of dudes in fake uniforms on a motorbike asking us where we were going…wound up being ushered on to a mini van with some Aussies who had already negotiated a price for the five of them - we wound up paying less than half of what one person paid - hee hee! But seriously, they were nice guys - took us to the end of the line, in the old quarter, near the lake.

Driving in was incredible. Such a kalidescope of images - hundreds of shops, each selling something different, crammed side by side, people sitting on their heels, selling fruits or lighters or shoes, families sitting around low plastic tables on little chairs, eating together, practically at the same height as the cars and motorcycles driving by… hundreds and hundreds, waves of neverending, unceasing, unfailing waves of people on scooters, honking, merging, splitting apart, texting while talking to a passenger on the back, flowing like air, like water, around Hoan Kiem Lake, never stopping.

After we got out of the mini van we thought we’d head to the lake and get our bearings. A fattish guy in a black and purple t-shirt fell into step with us and gave Steve his card. We said goodbye and then ducked into a bar - walking around with a backpack was like a red flag to a bull - the people approaching you were friendly, not hard. Maybe less “seasoned” than the Balinese. We had two large beers - “Hanoi” for $1.60 each. We drank and watched the scooters go around and around and looked at the card we’d been given, with the map on the back. We had a few other places in mind, but this one was just down the road - we could see the way we had to go from our perch by the window.

 We decided to go for it.

The cool thing about the streets here is that there really aren’t any traffic lights, no stop signs, no give way signs. Well - I saw one set of traffic lights and they were hilarious. People respected them, yes, but when they were nearing a green light, all the stopped scooters would start honking, and then suddenly, with a rip and a roar, all take off like they were part of Superbikes or something. So those are the roads, and the way you cross the street is just that - just take a breath and step out into the traffic. It’s so anarchistic, it’s brilliant! Rules aren’t needed cause people get on just fine without them.

Anyway, we found the street, a small quiet side road (alley?) that seems mostly residential. The hotel’s called “The Old Darling Hotel” and the peopole who run it are absolute sweethearts. Turns out the guy who gave us the card is called Michael and the sweet girl who checked us in is Tui. Thui, something like that.

We got a cool room with a balcony overlooking the road and rooftops - it’s an awesome view. I can’t wait till morning!

We booked a tour to Sapa - an overnight trip on a beautiful old train - “soft sleeper”, trip to the cool market up there, a homestay, some hiking and a trip in a jeep to see some waterfall - we leave tomorrow night! Went to a neat restaurant called The Old Hanoi (filled with tourists but still good) and ate self-roll spring rolls (beef) and I had “Five tastes chicken” which was beautiful, while Steve had citroen and chili chicken. Stunning.

Tried my hand at bartering at a shop across the road but my technique isn’t the best. Must practice I guess.

Got a silk lamp that is filled with spiders and his prey and will have to be cleaned out before it makes the trip to NZ. Gorgeous tho. Also a couple of silk scarves, one for mum, one for Colette. All up, 200,000 d. Time will tell if that’s a lot or what. (I suspect it’s a lot but at this point, oh well. It’s pretty good for NZ $20.)

We wandered back to the lake, saw some gorgeous art from the local art school - housed in a beautiful old building by the lake, and had coffee at the Thuy Ta Cafe, outdoors and lovely, right by the lake. The coffee was warm and beautiful.

We also sat down by the lake for a while, as it got darker and watched the lights of the scooters go round and round.

Finally back ‘home’, to shower, wash some skanks and socks and sweaty t-shirt, drink some water, and update the ol’ diary! It’s still early, 9:20pm or so, but we’ve had a big day and it’s 1ish in NZ (1:20am) so I guess it’s fair if we’re sleepy I guess.

Earplugs tonight. While we’re not on the main street the scooter horns still go - apparently they never stop!

Steve’s flaked - time I did too.

xxx

got the tickets!

I know it’s been a little while since I’ve updated here, but wow, wow, wow! Steve and I decided a little while ago that we were overdue for a holiday, so we’ve booked ourselves in for five weeks in Vietnam! We just picked up the tickets today. We’re leaving on the 3rd of October, getting back to New Zealand on the 3rd of November. It’s just so exciting. We’re already making some tentative plans - the flight arrives in Hanoi, and then we will be making our way down to Ho Chi Minh City (Saigon) and departing from there. Before that though, we’re going to head south and spend a week on a lovely quiet beach, in a place called Thang Loi.

It’s going to be so wonderful. I just want to walk around and explore somewhere new. We’re travelling light - just one pack between us - and it’ll be lovely to be in some warm weather, eating beautiful food and seeing the world.