Finally in Bangkok airport, I have 10 more hours to wait before I can board a flight to Amsterdam, and can think of no better time to write my FINAL blog. NB: I'm writing on an iPhone, which means I can't be bothered to correct typos, and sometimes the phone will incorrectly replace them for me.
So here follows the tale of our prolonged stay in Hanoi:
We landed fresh from a 2 hour flight (a very happy alternative to the 16-hour bus journey). On arrival at our hotel, however, we found that our chronic-forward-booking habit had finally back-fired; inexplicably the hotel DID NOT EXIST. At least that's what we gathered across the language barrier- despite my having spoken to a very nice man earlier. Bemused and slightly pissed off - it's never nice tryng to orientate yourself in an unfamiliar city (hence the very uncool booking ahead) - we found backpacker street and bumped into Mike and Joe. They were flying out to Malaysia the next morning, and it was pretty late, so we only had time for the briefest of chats.
The next day was certainly the most efficient we spent in Hanoi. We packed in the sights. Started with The Temple of Literature, a university since 1064, and famous for Confucius (sp?). We mostly glossed over the information signs and enjoyed the courtyards chock-full of lanterns, dragons and bonsai trees. We rewarded our cultural efforts afterwards with lunch at an amazing LP-reccomended restaurant. Abi's personal review: "the best falafel I've ever tasted". The fact that the restaurant was also a not-for-profit organisation providing training and employment for street kids only added to the meal's wholesomeness!
Next we hit Hao Lo Prison, once known by US POWs as the "Hanoi Hilton". The museum was mostly about the French imprisonment of Vietnamese. The conditions were absolutely horrendous. Though I have a feeling the museum was perhaps a little biasd as the info on the Vietnamese imprisonment of US POWs in the war made it look pretty cushy: sport, Christmas dinner, and even souveneirs at liberation. Though I don't doubt that the yanks in the 70s were treated better than the Vietnamese under the colonials. Museums in the Soviet Republic of Vietnam are always pretty weird!! Also got to see the uniform John McCain was shot down in. Yesssssss.
We found an incrediby hectic market next and got so overwhelmed that we ran away. We finished off at the lake - a huge expanse of water smack bang in the middle of the city with a temple and a tower sitting on it. Very nice. We dutifully had a wandered around the temple, which houses a massive embalmed giant tortoise.
After some cheeky tapas we packed and got ready for two (much less wholesome) days in Halong Bay.
HALONG BAY
We assembled outside bright and early at 8am where our tour guide Mark introduced himself. We were slightly apprehensive as Mark was one of craaaaaazzy types (like Jamie hates) - sombreros were distributed and we were warned that anyone saying anything negative would have to do press-ups. Snore.
It took us about 3 hours to get to the bay, and besides some obligatory small talk, everyone was pretty sleepy and tired. Just before lunch we got off the bus (where Mark, cus he's super cool, told us to leave our inhibitions) boarded the Jolly Roger and left the built-up harbour. Before long we were floating on the idyliic bay, emerald islets all over the shop. So so nice. Plus, it was the hottest day of the year in Halong, the sun was shining gloriously (has been known to rain). We sat up on the sundeck, getting to know each other, and waiting for lunch.
After some lunchtime mingling the ice was broken, and everyone jumped in the sea. After one of the boys jumped off the topdeck inevitably they all had to. Initially we jumped on from the bottom - I still screamed. Ever one to follow the crowd though I realised I was going to have to jump from the top - I was grateful that my new pal (and roomie -LOVELY girl) Anna said she'd come too - Abi and Rach are wusses. Unfortunately my determination wasn't matched by my grace: the backs of my legs and my bum were the first to smack the water. I got a massive bruise lol. Was very good though- one of those jumps where you have time to be conscious that you're falling. I've just written far too much about one jump into the sea. I'm obviously exceptionally proud.
Anyway, after some quality floating, ("I'm on a boat" playing in the background) we all had to get into boy-girl pairs for kayaking. Kayaking was loads of fun, but I don't think anyone realised how far it was to the cave we were heading for, and I for one lacked the upper body strength. Thankfully my partner - Murray (ledge) - let me take a few breaks while he carried on paddling lol. On arrival at the cave we realised we didn't have anywhere near enough torches. We stumbled through the dark (quite a few injuries) and into a nice lagoon. After a while we reluctantly climbed back in the kayaks and started to paddle back.
Back on the boat we got straight on the gin, and got ready for dinner. We had such a good night on the boat (despite an incredibly homoerotic game of ring of fire). There about 30 of us on the boat, and they were def some of the best folks we've met all trip. High on Halong we made promises to see each other back home: Glasgow (probably), Napa Valley (not so sure).
My hangover in the morning was incredible. Jumping in the sea was our only relief. After some sunbathing our group was split up: lots were doing the 3-day tour and going to stay on an island for the night. Gutted, we lacked time and funds, so we carried on lounging, and moaning, on the boat, before it dropped us back off in the harbour and we headed back to Hanoi.
We pretty much went straight to sleep when we got back to the hostel. When I woke up, after a horrendous night's sleep, I realised that my hangover was actually more illness. Had a horribl fever and ached all over. Terribly upsetting as (apart from the hives obv) I haven't been ill yet, and this was about to ruin the end of my trip. I made an effort - after rallying myself with a speech about mind over matter - to go to a museum. Failed miserably - had to go and sit down before I collapsed. I bailed on the rest of the day and let Rach and Ab go off and buy last minute souveneirs. I was happy sitting in the bar sipping sprite with the rest of the gang just back from Halong. I did go out, but didn't drink a drop, despite a tremendous of peer pressure. So annoying.
The next day I felt a lot better, but my foot was fucking huge. I could barely walk. Looked ridiculous. Rach and Abi went off shopping while I hung about at the hostel resting my leg.
We had a nice evening: had (what we thought) was our last supper at our fave restaurant before getting a bit sloshed. It was going to be beautiful: we said goodnight to the boys, who were on the same flight as us to Bangkok, ready to meet them in the morning and head for the airport. We were packed and mentally prepared for take off. But then began the worst 24hrs of our trip:
25th MAY
0015hrs: walking home, just 5 hours from leaving for the airport, on very quiet streets. I noticed a motorbike seemingly heading for Rach - in Hanoi the bikes always seem to be heading for people, and they never are, so I'd learnt to suppress my sisterly worry. This time it actually was heading for her though, and they snatched her bag. It was so fast I didn't realise they'd got it, until I heard Rachel screaming that they had her passport. They were long gone. Such bad luck, the only tone we'd had anything proper nicked. We were just a street away from the hostel. All we could do was head to the police station to get a report. Thank god Anna was there who was very helpful, sensible and sober - she calmed Rachel way better than I could! Some Vietnamese guys took us to the police, none of whom spoke any English whatsoever. They took us over to a hotel who translated. All I had to do was fill in some forms that Rach signed and our enigmatic police friend stamped. It was all very surreal.
0100hrs: Realising we couldn't do anything until the embassy opened at 8.30am, and that we were def missing our flight, Rachel cancelled her cards, and I spoke to the parents. Obviously I wasn't going to leave my little sister alone in Vietnam, but the plan was that Abi would still go home. We told the boys are plans, said goodbyes, and went to try and sleep.
0230hrs: Mum had been busy phoning insurance companies and the airline for us, and she'd found out some devestating news. Turns out we weren't even booked on the flight we were flying to Bangkok to catch. Me and rach were missing it anyway, but this was still distressing. And very confusing: I changed the flight weeks ago, spoke to a very nice and (seemingly) helpful lady, who was very happy to change our flight, booked us particular seats, and sent me a string of confirmation emails straightaway. A couple of weeks before the flight I even emailed to check this was all the documentation we needed to board, to which they replied: "we are happy to confirm your reservation is in order". Haha, can you tell I'm still annoyed? Abi rang KLM and spoke to a very rude man called Mike Noort, who told her that she definitly could not get on the flight. Abi obv didn't want to be stranded in Bangkok, so she was staying too. In despair we finally fell asleep sometime after 4am.
1000hrs: we made our way to the embassy. My foot was killing (people at the hostel were even trying to tell me it wad broken, it blates wasn't, but was giving me a heckuvalot of jip) and I felt blue. Apart from the stress seeing the embassy was really cool. It was in a swanky area, and felt incredibly British- we couldn't believe it when we saw that they had BRITISH PLUG SOCKETS. The embassy told us we couldn't get the ball rolling on the emergency passport unless we had a proven flight home. So we made our way back to have a fight with KLM - booking an entirely new flight would have cost us at the very least £500 each.
I spoke to so many different people at KLM - it was impossible to reach the same person twice so we had to keep telling our story- who were all stubborn that we hadn't changed the flight in the place. So we were screwed. I was on hold for so long so many times.
1500hrs: while on hold a gap-yah-doctor chap noticed my lergy foot and diagnosed me. Two things going on: infected splinter in my heel (probs from being barefoot and drunk on the boat)and a badly sprained ankle- haven't a clue how I got that one. He proceeded to squeeze my heel in the middle of the hostel reception, puss sprayed everywhere (apparently - rach, abi, and anna were much more disgusted than me - I couldn't see).
2000hrs: after trying to speak to someone reasonable for hours and hours. Abi finally spoke to a wonderful man called Arda. He understood straightaway. Revealed that he couldn't understand why everyone else had told us to email our emails as proof of the changed flight to them as they had no access to emails. We faxed the proof to him. He marched into the manager's office (even though he wasn't allowed to speak directly to him - what a hero) and got permission to put us on a new flight. Hurray!!
2300hrs: almost 24hrs later we had a flight home, and we'd booked a new flight to Bangkok. We were pissed off that we were stuck in Hanoi for nearly another week, with no money, and no beach. But at least now Rachel could apply for a new passport. Just had time to say goodbye to Anna - our rock- before we collapsed in bed.
HANGING OUT IN HANOI
The last few days haven't been too blogtastic. We now know Hanoi intimately - though we never made it to see Ho Chi Minh. My foot is back to it's normal size.
Spent a lot of time going backwards and forwards between the embassy and Viet immigration; all the paperwork wasn't properly sorted until yesterday lunchtime. The rest of the time we wandered about, watched HBO (Superman three times), and tried not to spend any money. Was all a bit of a bummer because if we'd left when intended we would have gone out on a high. But worse things could certainly have happened.
We're sitting in Starbucks in Bangkok airport now musing on what we will and won't miss. We won't miss the moto fear, and their tooting, or Vietnamese mens' thumb nails, or western guilt. It will also be nice not to be stared at - most of the time we feel like gigantic western hussies. We probably don't reslise yet all the things we will miss. I've grown far too accustomed to incredible sightseeing and stunning beauty. We've been spoilt. I'll miss the kindness of strangers you find nearly everyewhere travelling, and the camraderie with other backpackers. I'm sure I'll also miss waking up more or less when I want, and spending the day however I like.
At the moment we're mostly excited about tea, family, friends and actually feeling cold. Can't wait to see you all!! Unless we somehow miss our flight, despite being 12 hours early, and I have to panic blog...
That's all folks!! Xxxxxxxxxxxx
Tuesday 1 June 2010
Monday 17 May 2010
Hoi An
Before I start yapping about lovely lovely Hoi An I realised I forgot to mention something last time. ----> As we walked to catch our bus I couldn't help but notice a pair of brown-drawstring-high-waisted-trousers like none I'd ever seen before, I naturally glanced upwards to discover their owner, who was none other than RUSSIAN HIPPY, accompanied by French gf (this was the guy who whacked the monkey before abandoning our team way back in Phonm Pehn - for those who remember). No more than 5 minutes later we boarded our bus only to meet 2 guys we knew all the way from Fiji. No doubt this will amuse few but me, but all this "small world" business always pleases me. (Though maybe I should really find it depressing that so many people follow so similar a trail).
ANYWAY. Hoi An. We arrived at 6.30 am so tired that we missed the guy holding the "Emma" sign, hopped in a taxi, inevitably pronounced the name of the hotel incorrectly, and ended up paying 4 POUNDS (that's alot in Vietnam) for a taxi to a destination that was actually about 100yds away. Fail. After a few hours sleep we'd recovered and got up to explore the beautifully quaint ancient town of Hoi An. Originally one of the main trading hubs of South East Asia, it has been lovingly preserved (almost) as it was at the nineteenth century, and is now one of Vietnam's main tourist destinations. The architecture is heavily influenced by the eclectic mix of traders who settled here over centuries; the streets wind together Chinese, Japanese, Dutch and French architecture. Lanterns swing from every shop, and the streets are filled with women in cone-hats - so much so that we didn't feel like twats when we wore them, which, obviously, was a deception.
On the very first day we found our favourite cafe - a really nice French boulangerie place overlooking the river, serving excellent Vietnamese coffee and cinnamon rolls. We've been there every day since. It took me a few hours to shake Abi off so I could buy her some birthday presents to open the next morning (she's incredibly difficult to get rid of).
The next day was a very BIG DAY: Abigail's 22nd Birthday!! Hurray!! Started beautifully with an incredibreakfast: toast, bread, jam, butter, followed by poached eggs benedict on brioche, with Vietnamese coffee and fresh orange and lime juice, finished with a small (and frankly strange) platter of fruit. [I talk about food far too much.] Next we went and did the best birthday shopping I can imagine. Hoi An is home to the best tailors in the world, and it took us a while to work out which of the hundreds of tailors we should employ. With the internet as our guide we chose Yaly - though supposedly the best in town a suit only set me back $85! A SNIP. We bought Abi her birthday suit (get it) and that was actually cheaper (due to fabric) at $75. Though wonderful, in reality the tailoring process is quite stressful. Faced with an endless series of questions it was very difficult to be decisive about anything: colours, fabrics, cuts, length... single or double cuff? slit or pleat? how many buttons? what colour lining? In my ignorance I was very flustered, tired, and anxious. My tailor Luna's excellent English and reassuring smile, however, gave me faith. After all the decision-making we had to be measured, which we found embarrassingly funny in front of the terribly dignified tailors who are no doubt used to a classier clientele. Poor Luna kept telling me to "stand up straight", and the language barrier was rather stretched as I struggled to explain my ridiculous back, and my wonky hip. LOL. All this was knackering, and took most of the day.
By the time we were finished it was time to don our gladrags and meet the lads for dinner. Had an awesome Vietnamese before finding a bar on the riverside where we sipped fresh beer (brewed on the premises and a bit of a gamble - 4000 dong (14.3p) a glass). It was deathly quiet and we were pretty pessimistic about finding some life, lash and lols for Abi's birthday. We wandered through desterted streets, came across the smallest bat I've ever seen, and eventually found a relatively lively bar. I think Mike's words were "every white person in Hoi An is in here". We had some good chat, and some good gin, before they finally kicked us out at 2am.
The next day we headed back to Yaly for our fitting. Given that they'd been made within 24 hours I had slight apprehensions that I might be exploiting someone somewhere, but the suits were so beautiful that I quickly brushed my Westerners' guilt aside. (Topshop is no doubt worse). They really were amazing, better than I'd expected, especially the attention to detail. We went for food and downtime before returning late afternoon for our final fitting. I was so excited that I went slightly overboard and ordered a load more stuff - and spent the rest of the evening justifying it to myself: "it's just so cheap", "I'm only gonna have to buy work stuff anyway", yadayadayada... Met the boys for a curry the same evening and heard all about their new swanky stuff.
Click here for Joey B's superb blog!
ANYWAY. Hoi An. We arrived at 6.30 am so tired that we missed the guy holding the "Emma" sign, hopped in a taxi, inevitably pronounced the name of the hotel incorrectly, and ended up paying 4 POUNDS (that's alot in Vietnam) for a taxi to a destination that was actually about 100yds away. Fail. After a few hours sleep we'd recovered and got up to explore the beautifully quaint ancient town of Hoi An. Originally one of the main trading hubs of South East Asia, it has been lovingly preserved (almost) as it was at the nineteenth century, and is now one of Vietnam's main tourist destinations. The architecture is heavily influenced by the eclectic mix of traders who settled here over centuries; the streets wind together Chinese, Japanese, Dutch and French architecture. Lanterns swing from every shop, and the streets are filled with women in cone-hats - so much so that we didn't feel like twats when we wore them, which, obviously, was a deception.
On the very first day we found our favourite cafe - a really nice French boulangerie place overlooking the river, serving excellent Vietnamese coffee and cinnamon rolls. We've been there every day since. It took me a few hours to shake Abi off so I could buy her some birthday presents to open the next morning (she's incredibly difficult to get rid of).
The next day was a very BIG DAY: Abigail's 22nd Birthday!! Hurray!! Started beautifully with an incredibreakfast: toast, bread, jam, butter, followed by poached eggs benedict on brioche, with Vietnamese coffee and fresh orange and lime juice, finished with a small (and frankly strange) platter of fruit. [I talk about food far too much.] Next we went and did the best birthday shopping I can imagine. Hoi An is home to the best tailors in the world, and it took us a while to work out which of the hundreds of tailors we should employ. With the internet as our guide we chose Yaly - though supposedly the best in town a suit only set me back $85! A SNIP. We bought Abi her birthday suit (get it) and that was actually cheaper (due to fabric) at $75. Though wonderful, in reality the tailoring process is quite stressful. Faced with an endless series of questions it was very difficult to be decisive about anything: colours, fabrics, cuts, length... single or double cuff? slit or pleat? how many buttons? what colour lining? In my ignorance I was very flustered, tired, and anxious. My tailor Luna's excellent English and reassuring smile, however, gave me faith. After all the decision-making we had to be measured, which we found embarrassingly funny in front of the terribly dignified tailors who are no doubt used to a classier clientele. Poor Luna kept telling me to "stand up straight", and the language barrier was rather stretched as I struggled to explain my ridiculous back, and my wonky hip. LOL. All this was knackering, and took most of the day.
By the time we were finished it was time to don our gladrags and meet the lads for dinner. Had an awesome Vietnamese before finding a bar on the riverside where we sipped fresh beer (brewed on the premises and a bit of a gamble - 4000 dong (14.3p) a glass). It was deathly quiet and we were pretty pessimistic about finding some life, lash and lols for Abi's birthday. We wandered through desterted streets, came across the smallest bat I've ever seen, and eventually found a relatively lively bar. I think Mike's words were "every white person in Hoi An is in here". We had some good chat, and some good gin, before they finally kicked us out at 2am.
The next day we headed back to Yaly for our fitting. Given that they'd been made within 24 hours I had slight apprehensions that I might be exploiting someone somewhere, but the suits were so beautiful that I quickly brushed my Westerners' guilt aside. (Topshop is no doubt worse). They really were amazing, better than I'd expected, especially the attention to detail. We went for food and downtime before returning late afternoon for our final fitting. I was so excited that I went slightly overboard and ordered a load more stuff - and spent the rest of the evening justifying it to myself: "it's just so cheap", "I'm only gonna have to buy work stuff anyway", yadayadayada... Met the boys for a curry the same evening and heard all about their new swanky stuff.
The next day Abi was ill, so Rach and I went off alone to say goodbye to the lads. Before we waved them off we had time to explore the market, and learnt some excellent skills from Joe and Mike who bartered hard for pearls. Abi was still ill that evening so Rach and I had to eat alone.Terribly strange; we haven't eaten without Abi for literally months, and, we felt the loss of Joe and Mike all the more.
We spent the next few days grabbing some bargs, and seeing the sights. Saw an ancient house, a lovely temple, and, of course the JAPANESE COVERED BRIDGE (Hoi An's pride and joy). We also ticked some boxes: bought some cone-shaped hats, and caught a cyclo round town.
I'm yet to mention, though you may have noticed my panic on facebook (free wifi in the hotel allows me to be embarrassingly fb-active), that I was attacked by a case of THE HIVES. I first noticed a slight red rash on my neck (or, rather, Rachel did) on the evening of the 14th. Initially I assumed it was some sort of heat rash that would soon dissappear. I was wrong. During the night it took over my body and spread like wildfire. By 2am I was covered in a fast-moving, hot and itchy rash. I messaged Dr Coops in panic, but managed to diagnose myself (an allergic reaction to something), and prescribe antihestimines before she got the chance to answer (who needs a GP for a mother when you have google). This seemed to work, and in the morning it had all but gone. In the evening, however, it was back with a vengence - and this time IT SPREAD TO MY FACE. I felt like screaming when I looked in the mirror (for some reason rashes scare me more than other stuff). During this time Abi made some investigations and informed me that this would probably last weeks. I despaired. Taking the piss, though, it was actually totally gone by the morning, and hasn't been back since. Massive drama queen (though I have to say I think Rachel would have cried under the same circumstances).
Today was our last day in Hoi An; we made our final purchases on the market before enjoying a splendid cooking course - learnt how to make Grilled ocean fish (mackrel) in Banana leaf, Spring Rolls, and a Beef Salad. There were 8 of us in the class altogether-a very nice bunch.
Tomorrow we fly up to Hanoi (couldn't face the 16 hour bus ride). Probs only one more blog to go. Well done for reading!
xxxxxxxxxxxxx
Click here for Joey B's superb blog!
Saturday 15 May 2010
Nha Trang
We arrived in Nha Trang and soon realised it was way more built up than Mui Ne, and definitely designed for tourists (no doubt due to the glorious long white sandy beach). It didn't take us long to hear that, notorious big names, and MASSIVE LADS, Joe Baylis and Mike Rowell were in town. We found them lounging on a very swanky beach, sipping smoothies, and rubbing sun cream into each others' backs. Spent a good few hours catching up before we were scolded by Abi and Rachel, and did our best to curtail the Durchat (Rach coined that). After a nice day on the beach Joe and Mike showed us around town. They'd been in Nha Trang nearly a week already, and had plenty of lashtastic stories, as well as expert local knowledge. After a good curry, we hit a few bars, had some beers, some buckets, enjoyed a good game of jenga, before heading to a club on the beach where we mostly started at western men and their prostitutes. I also recall Mike trying to teach Joe some sort of pistol dance, and failing miserably.
The next few days went much the same way. We had very easy days lying on the beach sipping coconut milk straight from the coconut, and watching the locals fly amazing kites. The second night we ate at a very interesting Vietnamese restaurant. A plastic-chair-place (that means that actual proper Vietnamese people eat there) where the menu included three different types of deer, hedgehog, mountain cat, wild boar, and a massive selection of fish. While we were eating we heard one couple refusing to pay as they "didn't want to eat food that had to be hammered" - it appeared they'd been served snails with a hammer. Nevertheless we had a very very nice dinner. Apart from Mike that is, who had the mountain cat. Served literally boiling hot on a gas stove he stirred the stew very suspiciously. He gave it a very good go, but couldn't help being put off by the fur floating around and the tiny (but lots of) bones in the meat. Joe had more success with wild boar, which we all decided tasted very much like herby sausages. We played it much more safe and got massive tiger prawns, and calamari - can't go wrong. After dindins we found a very nice night market, and had a wander about.
We spent our last day on the beach before we all boarded a BANTER bus up to Hoi An overnight. Were very impressed by the beds, although the position of mine on the bus meant I was deprived legroom, and couldn't stretch my legs for the entire 11 hour journey. Arguably, though, the boys had much more to complain about, as these "beds" are def not built for the Western Man. Was a pretty good, if very very bumpy, ride. Rather thrilling too as the driver very much enjoyed overtaking on sharp bends on the mountain side - lots of sharp intakes of breath.
Almost done. Tomorrow: Hoi An.
xxxxxx
The next few days went much the same way. We had very easy days lying on the beach sipping coconut milk straight from the coconut, and watching the locals fly amazing kites. The second night we ate at a very interesting Vietnamese restaurant. A plastic-chair-place (that means that actual proper Vietnamese people eat there) where the menu included three different types of deer, hedgehog, mountain cat, wild boar, and a massive selection of fish. While we were eating we heard one couple refusing to pay as they "didn't want to eat food that had to be hammered" - it appeared they'd been served snails with a hammer. Nevertheless we had a very very nice dinner. Apart from Mike that is, who had the mountain cat. Served literally boiling hot on a gas stove he stirred the stew very suspiciously. He gave it a very good go, but couldn't help being put off by the fur floating around and the tiny (but lots of) bones in the meat. Joe had more success with wild boar, which we all decided tasted very much like herby sausages. We played it much more safe and got massive tiger prawns, and calamari - can't go wrong. After dindins we found a very nice night market, and had a wander about.
We spent our last day on the beach before we all boarded a BANTER bus up to Hoi An overnight. Were very impressed by the beds, although the position of mine on the bus meant I was deprived legroom, and couldn't stretch my legs for the entire 11 hour journey. Arguably, though, the boys had much more to complain about, as these "beds" are def not built for the Western Man. Was a pretty good, if very very bumpy, ride. Rather thrilling too as the driver very much enjoyed overtaking on sharp bends on the mountain side - lots of sharp intakes of breath.
Almost done. Tomorrow: Hoi An.
xxxxxx
Friday 14 May 2010
Ok, true to form, I have lots of drivel to write. Nice as I am I've decided to break it down into chunks for you - in particular to brighten up the days of all those revisers out there (that's you Kate). O yeah, and there isn't that much more to come, so I'm sure you're glad to savour it.
So here's Vietnam South Central Coast: Chapter One:
Mui Ne
We were relieved to arrive at our hotel in Mui Ne without a hitch. We'd just checked in when, to my great surprise, SAGGY AND BOB strolled out of our hotel. Bumping into them for the third time was very surreal (for those who missed it these are Durham folk who I also came across in New Zealand - TWICE). It took a few minutes for us to catch up before they went off to grab food; unfortunately they headed up the coast the next day so that was all I got to see of them.
We had a very nice couple of days in Mui Ne: hailed in the LP as the "best all round beach in Vietnam". The LP slightly let us down again, though, as our hotel actually didn't have a beach when the tide was high. Though the view from the pool of the South China Sea and the Vietnamese fishermen in their little round boats more than made up for it. We spent most of our time sunbathing, although we did venture out to see the local sand dunes. I was the only one determined enough to want to bother trekking to the top of one of the dunes to sledge down it. Feeling very lightheaded at the top, and without back-up from Abi and Rachel (who were watching, and no doubt laughing, from a distance), I changed my mind when I saw how steep (pretty much vertical) the slope was, and tried very hard to back out. But the kid who'd sold me the plastic sheet (my sledge) was having none of it; he pulled me to the edge, piled sand on the plastic, ordered me to sit down, and pushed me. Naturally I screamed, flew half way down the slope, lost my balance, lost the plastic, and tumbled the rest of the way. Very fun though. Only drawbacks being the walk back up, and the time I had to put in scrubbing sand off (literally) every inch of my body.
We also had one of the best meals we've had all trip in Mui Ne. We went to a shabby-looking-plastic-chair joint on the beach and, for the price of a McDonalds, had incredible prawns and the best calamari I've ever tasted before getting stuck into a very ugly (but very good) lobster - was a bitch to take apart - none of those little plier things. All to the sound of the sea in the background. LOVELY.
We spent our last night/morning in Mui Ne getting very very excited about the election (as I'm sure you're all aware), before we hopped on another bus up to Nha Trang.
Was very excited when we boarded to find it was one of the sleeper buses we'd heard so much about. It literally took seconds for Rachel to refer to the Harry Potter night bus. The bus had aisles of bunk-beds rather than rows of seats, and was surprisingly comfortable. An hour out of Mui Ne I was tucked in, with Now 75 blasting in my ears, happy as larry... until the bus broke down. BRILLIANT. Black smoke billowing from the engine we decided it was best to get off and stand on the road. For half an hour we watched all the male passengers stare at the engine, and the oil that was leaking out of it, as if they knew what was going on. The driver stood over the oil smoking a cigarette (while the Westerners huffed and puffed) before he brought out a pathetic and decrepit tool box. We began to despair: we had no phone signal and seemed to be on the road to nowhere; the driver gave no signal that another bus was coming, and it was looking very very unlikely that he'd be able to fix anything. After half an hour in the heat we watched in astonishment as he cut a small piece of plastic, shoved it into the leak, started the engine, and gestured for us to climb back on board. We should never have doubted him, it became very apparent that this happens all the time, and the rest of the journey went without a hitch.
More tomoz. xxxxx
So here's Vietnam South Central Coast: Chapter One:
Mui Ne
We were relieved to arrive at our hotel in Mui Ne without a hitch. We'd just checked in when, to my great surprise, SAGGY AND BOB strolled out of our hotel. Bumping into them for the third time was very surreal (for those who missed it these are Durham folk who I also came across in New Zealand - TWICE). It took a few minutes for us to catch up before they went off to grab food; unfortunately they headed up the coast the next day so that was all I got to see of them.
We had a very nice couple of days in Mui Ne: hailed in the LP as the "best all round beach in Vietnam". The LP slightly let us down again, though, as our hotel actually didn't have a beach when the tide was high. Though the view from the pool of the South China Sea and the Vietnamese fishermen in their little round boats more than made up for it. We spent most of our time sunbathing, although we did venture out to see the local sand dunes. I was the only one determined enough to want to bother trekking to the top of one of the dunes to sledge down it. Feeling very lightheaded at the top, and without back-up from Abi and Rachel (who were watching, and no doubt laughing, from a distance), I changed my mind when I saw how steep (pretty much vertical) the slope was, and tried very hard to back out. But the kid who'd sold me the plastic sheet (my sledge) was having none of it; he pulled me to the edge, piled sand on the plastic, ordered me to sit down, and pushed me. Naturally I screamed, flew half way down the slope, lost my balance, lost the plastic, and tumbled the rest of the way. Very fun though. Only drawbacks being the walk back up, and the time I had to put in scrubbing sand off (literally) every inch of my body.
We also had one of the best meals we've had all trip in Mui Ne. We went to a shabby-looking-plastic-chair joint on the beach and, for the price of a McDonalds, had incredible prawns and the best calamari I've ever tasted before getting stuck into a very ugly (but very good) lobster - was a bitch to take apart - none of those little plier things. All to the sound of the sea in the background. LOVELY.
We spent our last night/morning in Mui Ne getting very very excited about the election (as I'm sure you're all aware), before we hopped on another bus up to Nha Trang.
Was very excited when we boarded to find it was one of the sleeper buses we'd heard so much about. It literally took seconds for Rachel to refer to the Harry Potter night bus. The bus had aisles of bunk-beds rather than rows of seats, and was surprisingly comfortable. An hour out of Mui Ne I was tucked in, with Now 75 blasting in my ears, happy as larry... until the bus broke down. BRILLIANT. Black smoke billowing from the engine we decided it was best to get off and stand on the road. For half an hour we watched all the male passengers stare at the engine, and the oil that was leaking out of it, as if they knew what was going on. The driver stood over the oil smoking a cigarette (while the Westerners huffed and puffed) before he brought out a pathetic and decrepit tool box. We began to despair: we had no phone signal and seemed to be on the road to nowhere; the driver gave no signal that another bus was coming, and it was looking very very unlikely that he'd be able to fix anything. After half an hour in the heat we watched in astonishment as he cut a small piece of plastic, shoved it into the leak, started the engine, and gestured for us to climb back on board. We should never have doubted him, it became very apparent that this happens all the time, and the rest of the journey went without a hitch.
More tomoz. xxxxx
Tuesday 4 May 2010
We spent about a week, mainly doing nothing, in Sihnoukville on the South Coast of Cambodia. At $8 a night between us we found it pretty hard to leave; it's surprisingly easy to adapt to a bed with no mattress and a toilet that doesn't flush (don't worry, there's a nice bucket that you fill with water and chuck down the toilet). In Sihnoukville we found the most backpackers we'd seen in Cambodia - an incredible amount of gap yah types. You know the breed: ridiculous voices, salmon pink trousers, Aladdin waist coats, pastel pink RayBan's, and a constantly affected cigarette in hand. One girl was literally called Lucius. We actually heard someone outside our room, drunkenly SHOUTING to her friend: "it's just SO weird, I'm used to being the posh one at home, and here I'm just so normal. It's just so weird. I thought I was posh". No joke. There not all bad though, and its not as though we're really any better - we're pretty much following the same route, and at this point we too are relying heavily on "Mummy and Daddy".
WATCH ME
SIHNOUKVILLE -------> SAIGON
So after days and days of the beach we finally booked a bus to Ho Chi Minh City in Vietnam (if you're super cool like me you call it "Saigon". The first 4 hours of the journey went rather smoothly, though not literally as the Cambodian roads are ridiculous, and also my seat wasn't really attached to anything, but we were happy listening to music we'd had added to our ipods (Now 75 - who is this Justin Beiber???). After 4 hours we reached Phomn Pehn, and we got off, assuming that we were changing buses. It soon became apparent, however, that there was no bus. The manager had double-booked the bus, and said he had no way to take us any further. BRILLIANT. There were about 15 of us altogether and we all started kicking up quite a fuss. He began saying that he could get us another bus, but we'd all have to give him a load more money. We were having none of that. The Brits in particular got very principled, everyone started talking about trading standards and customer service - the Cambodians blatantly didn't have a clue what we were talking about. Negotiations really took a turn for the worse, and we were told that he would only take us as far as the Viet border, and we would have to make our way from there. All of a sudden the (so far) quiet, and quite enigmatic, small Argentenian man, violently kicked the man's desk. Scared the shit out of the rest of us - the Cambodian manager said he was calling the Police, and went to hide in his office. While all this was going on I absent-mindedly looked down to my right, and saw what I initially though was a very strange dog. Milliseconds later I realised it was, in fact, the biggest monkey I'd ever seen. I pretty much screamed - drawing attention away from the angry Argentinian - and then the Russian hippy (who's food the monkey was eating) came towards me with a huge bag, and (in Mark the teacher's words) "fucking TWATTED the monkey"). It snarled and ran towards a very scared Abi before jumping into a building and scampering away. I've got pretty used to seeing monkeys about, but this one was mental, though I think the Russian was more scary. At this point we realised that we had really burnt our bridges with the bus company; manager guy was indignantly arguing that he knew English, and why didn't we speak Cambodian. Russian hippy and his French girlfriend abandoned the fellowship and went their own way, while the rest of us started panicking that the border would close before we got there. A tuk-tuk driver chipped in (there'd been a whole gang watching the saga for the last hour-and-a-half), saying he knew someone with a minibus who would take us as far as the border. HURRAY!. Just before the bus turned up we gained a very quiet, calm, and remarkably tall, Japanese man, who we took under our wing. We all managed to get a good proportion of our money back from the angry Cambodian - he seemed extremely happy to be rid of us. When the mini bus turned up we were short by two seats, but no one considered this a problem as we were all used to seeing Cambodian cars crammed full (normally they have the boot open and 3 people sit cross-legged in the boot), and we were very happy to be on our way!
4 hours later we reached the border, and our team marched out of Cambodia and into Vietnam. There were 12 of us: Mark and Jade a young teacher couple who live and work in Saigon (for all intents and purposes our leaders), 3 British backpacker girls (one of which was from REDDITCH), Martina (a Swiss choclatier), Jan (enigmatic chap), angry Argentinian, and quiet Japanese guy. The Cambodian departure official was very amused to see a gang of Westerners with no bus. We were out of Cambodia relatively fast. Principled as ever, however, it took us forever to get into Vietnam, as we refused to grease the palm of the immigration guy. We waited 45 minutes while those who knew better just pushed past us with wads of cash slipped in their passports. Eventually we got to the other side, and found another minibus, with, obviously, not enough seats. We spent the last hour and a half chatting jubilantly all the way. We arrived in Saigon, Mark and Jade helped us all find places to stay, and we ate a delicious victory meal, and had a beer.
Yesterday we had a great day exploring the city. Started off at the War Remnants museum - originally named the American atrocities museum, and you can see why - the main theme was "we hate America". Endless harrowing photos - the pictures of those whose mothers had been contaminated with Agent Orange were perhaps the worst. Next we headed to Notre-Dame, and the old colonial post office, before wandering around the shops. Mostly we just enjoyed seeing the city: people in Vietnam literally wear those wooden cone-shaped hats! I've never ever ever seen so many motorbikes. I get an adrenaline rush every time I cross the road (not in a good way); there's no way to cross but to walk very slowly so that the motorbikes can whizz past and avoid you. Its like moving through a school of fish. This afternoon we're catching a bus up to Mui Ne on the coast - hopefully more successful than our last bus trip.
This time in 3 weeks I'll be home! Its pretty ridiculous that we're no longer going to Thailand, but the adults at home are terribly worried, plus we've kind of run out of money anyway.
LOVE xxxxxxx
WATCH ME
SIHNOUKVILLE -------> SAIGON
So after days and days of the beach we finally booked a bus to Ho Chi Minh City in Vietnam (if you're super cool like me you call it "Saigon". The first 4 hours of the journey went rather smoothly, though not literally as the Cambodian roads are ridiculous, and also my seat wasn't really attached to anything, but we were happy listening to music we'd had added to our ipods (Now 75 - who is this Justin Beiber???). After 4 hours we reached Phomn Pehn, and we got off, assuming that we were changing buses. It soon became apparent, however, that there was no bus. The manager had double-booked the bus, and said he had no way to take us any further. BRILLIANT. There were about 15 of us altogether and we all started kicking up quite a fuss. He began saying that he could get us another bus, but we'd all have to give him a load more money. We were having none of that. The Brits in particular got very principled, everyone started talking about trading standards and customer service - the Cambodians blatantly didn't have a clue what we were talking about. Negotiations really took a turn for the worse, and we were told that he would only take us as far as the Viet border, and we would have to make our way from there. All of a sudden the (so far) quiet, and quite enigmatic, small Argentenian man, violently kicked the man's desk. Scared the shit out of the rest of us - the Cambodian manager said he was calling the Police, and went to hide in his office. While all this was going on I absent-mindedly looked down to my right, and saw what I initially though was a very strange dog. Milliseconds later I realised it was, in fact, the biggest monkey I'd ever seen. I pretty much screamed - drawing attention away from the angry Argentinian - and then the Russian hippy (who's food the monkey was eating) came towards me with a huge bag, and (in Mark the teacher's words) "fucking TWATTED the monkey"). It snarled and ran towards a very scared Abi before jumping into a building and scampering away. I've got pretty used to seeing monkeys about, but this one was mental, though I think the Russian was more scary. At this point we realised that we had really burnt our bridges with the bus company; manager guy was indignantly arguing that he knew English, and why didn't we speak Cambodian. Russian hippy and his French girlfriend abandoned the fellowship and went their own way, while the rest of us started panicking that the border would close before we got there. A tuk-tuk driver chipped in (there'd been a whole gang watching the saga for the last hour-and-a-half), saying he knew someone with a minibus who would take us as far as the border. HURRAY!. Just before the bus turned up we gained a very quiet, calm, and remarkably tall, Japanese man, who we took under our wing. We all managed to get a good proportion of our money back from the angry Cambodian - he seemed extremely happy to be rid of us. When the mini bus turned up we were short by two seats, but no one considered this a problem as we were all used to seeing Cambodian cars crammed full (normally they have the boot open and 3 people sit cross-legged in the boot), and we were very happy to be on our way!
4 hours later we reached the border, and our team marched out of Cambodia and into Vietnam. There were 12 of us: Mark and Jade a young teacher couple who live and work in Saigon (for all intents and purposes our leaders), 3 British backpacker girls (one of which was from REDDITCH), Martina (a Swiss choclatier), Jan (enigmatic chap), angry Argentinian, and quiet Japanese guy. The Cambodian departure official was very amused to see a gang of Westerners with no bus. We were out of Cambodia relatively fast. Principled as ever, however, it took us forever to get into Vietnam, as we refused to grease the palm of the immigration guy. We waited 45 minutes while those who knew better just pushed past us with wads of cash slipped in their passports. Eventually we got to the other side, and found another minibus, with, obviously, not enough seats. We spent the last hour and a half chatting jubilantly all the way. We arrived in Saigon, Mark and Jade helped us all find places to stay, and we ate a delicious victory meal, and had a beer.
Yesterday we had a great day exploring the city. Started off at the War Remnants museum - originally named the American atrocities museum, and you can see why - the main theme was "we hate America". Endless harrowing photos - the pictures of those whose mothers had been contaminated with Agent Orange were perhaps the worst. Next we headed to Notre-Dame, and the old colonial post office, before wandering around the shops. Mostly we just enjoyed seeing the city: people in Vietnam literally wear those wooden cone-shaped hats! I've never ever ever seen so many motorbikes. I get an adrenaline rush every time I cross the road (not in a good way); there's no way to cross but to walk very slowly so that the motorbikes can whizz past and avoid you. Its like moving through a school of fish. This afternoon we're catching a bus up to Mui Ne on the coast - hopefully more successful than our last bus trip.
This time in 3 weeks I'll be home! Its pretty ridiculous that we're no longer going to Thailand, but the adults at home are terribly worried, plus we've kind of run out of money anyway.
LOVE xxxxxxx
Monday 26 April 2010
We spent three nice days in Battambang, recovering from the traumatic boat with some good food, luxurious air-con, BBC World News, and a swimming pool. No doubt the highlight of our stay was the trip we took out to the countryside with our best tuk-tuk driver yet: Mr Tim.
He started off by showing us a temple that was once a Khmer Rouge prison, proudly informing us that its not in the guide books, and a recently built memorial. He was remarkably understated when he told us that he was actually a survivor of the Khmer Rouge. 46 years old now, he was 11 when they took power, and 16 at liberation. He told us that his experiences very much mirrored the book that we'd all read. He showed us old Khmer Rouge hospitals, explaining that Pol Pot had killed all qualified doctors and nurses, so there was no proper treatment, and no medicine; he told us that he'd lost his entire family (mother, father, brother and sister) in one of the hospitals.
He showed us villages where they made fermented fish paste (probably one of the worst things I will ever smell), and rice paper, an 11th century temple, and a 1950s pepsi factory. We sat and had a Sprite with him, and he told us the most amazing anecdotes - our fave was one about the Vietnamese trying, and failing, to steal a solid gold buddha.
After a few days we took a 10 hour coach journey - with just a box of raisins - to Sihnoukville on the southern coast. Very nice down here (apart from all the gap yar types), and extremely cheap, so we're sticking around.
xxxxxx
He started off by showing us a temple that was once a Khmer Rouge prison, proudly informing us that its not in the guide books, and a recently built memorial. He was remarkably understated when he told us that he was actually a survivor of the Khmer Rouge. 46 years old now, he was 11 when they took power, and 16 at liberation. He told us that his experiences very much mirrored the book that we'd all read. He showed us old Khmer Rouge hospitals, explaining that Pol Pot had killed all qualified doctors and nurses, so there was no proper treatment, and no medicine; he told us that he'd lost his entire family (mother, father, brother and sister) in one of the hospitals.
He showed us villages where they made fermented fish paste (probably one of the worst things I will ever smell), and rice paper, an 11th century temple, and a 1950s pepsi factory. We sat and had a Sprite with him, and he told us the most amazing anecdotes - our fave was one about the Vietnamese trying, and failing, to steal a solid gold buddha.
After a few days we took a 10 hour coach journey - with just a box of raisins - to Sihnoukville on the southern coast. Very nice down here (apart from all the gap yar types), and extremely cheap, so we're sticking around.
xxxxxx
Sunday 25 April 2010
CAMBODIA
Hello!
Yet again I've left this too long, and I lack the discipline to make anything concise, so I'm sure this will be long...
Last time I wrote we were in Phuket, making our way to Bangkok, to catch a flight into Cambodia. We'd hoped to have a day in Bangkok - it happened to be Thai new year, and normally the whole city turns into a huge water fight. Should have been incredible. Unfortunately that was also the day the Red Shirts started kicking off, the whole thing was canceled, and we camped out in an airport hotel instead.
We were very happy to finally get to Phonm Pehn. Cambodia is one of the poorest countries in South East Asia, and Phonm Pehn felt like our first proper experience of a S E Asian capital. MENTAL traffic: seeing car is extremely rare and scooters ("motos") fly around in hoards carrying entire families. Alot of travellers hire motos themselves, but that was never going to be us lol, so we have got highly accustomed to travelling by tuk-tuk (a carriage pulled by a motorbike).
On our first day in the city we visited S21; originally a school, it was used by the Khmer Rouge for torture and imprisonment of victims, and is now a genocide museum. Still looked very very much like a school, which was very disconcerting - one information board detailed the use of PE equipment for torture. In Europe the school would probably have been turned into a swanky museum, but it was for the most part left just as it was in 1979 - all the more creepy. We bought a book there - First They Killed My Father - a survivors memoir. I read the entire book before we visited the Killing Fields the next day - which made it slightly easier to relate to the incomprehensible suffering that had happened there. From the Killing Fields we went straight to the Royal Palace - the splendor of which providing a massive contrast to what we'd just seen. The 95kg solid gold diamond encrusted buddha cheered me right up lol. The palace was incredible - Dad, you would have loved it!
Besides seeing the sights we had a pretty quiet time in Phonm Pehn. We arrived at the start of Khmer New Year - so besides a few tourists going about their business, some kids playing with water pistols, and the occasional group of dancing folks, the whole city had pretty much shut down for the 3-day period we were there. New Year is massive here because Cambodians DON'T HAVE BIRTHDAYS (I know!) - instead they all get a year older at new year - and if you ask a Cambodian his birthday he won't have a clue.
Next Stop: Siem Reap - home to Angkor Wat and the rest of the temples of Angkor. Before going I was embarrassingly ignorant about Angkor Wat - dubbed "8th wonder of the world" - the creation of which was a feat as grand in scale as the Egyptians and their pyramids. We had a great day seeing the temples (had to pack it to one day as its just about the most expensive thing you can do in Cambodia): got up to see the sunrise over Angkor Wat (slightly cloudy, but we were very glad of the cool temperatures), saw incredible Bayon heads, and scrambled over ruins (feeling alot like tomb raider). We had a break at lunch before heading back out in the afternoon for some more fun-packed-temple-action, and an elephant ride up to the highest temple to see the sunset. The entire day we were whizzed about by a patient tuk-tuk driver; we lost him at one point, conducted a very awkward search (didn't actually know his name lol), and eventually found him asleep lol. Polished off our perfect day with a traditional Khmer meal - which was very nice, served on banana leaves and all that jazz, although Rach almost through up at one point lol.
Putting all our faith in the Lonely Planet as usual we decided to catch a boat to Battambang that promised to be "the most enchanting boat trip in Cambodia". At 6.30 am we were picked up and packed into a minivan - 4 of us on the 3 seater back seat (one of which was a giant French man), and dropped at a jetty just outside the town. I wasn't too surprised when the boat bore absolutely no resemblance to the picture on our ticket. But initially we were comfortable enough, about 15-20 tourists on board we had plenty of room, even though we couldn't stand up. When we got going, though, I forgot all about the minor discomfort because the view from the boat was incredible. We wound through waterways, gliding through floating villages - seeing how people literally live on the river was amazing: people fishing, cooking, washing clothes, brushing their teeth, washing their hair, playing, and larking about. We passed floating houses, shops, schools and churches. It was early morning so we saw people stumbling straight out of their hammocks and into the water. The photos I took say it a lot better than I can, but I've never seen anything like it. The problem was, though, that the river was really too low to carry a boat full of tourists, and we got stuck every 20 minutes or so. The silent and elusive captain-man could normally get us going with his big stick, but often the engine failed, or they couldn't get it into gear, occasionally we were directed to pile ourselves to the front of the boat to try and redistribute the weight. At one point they made all the men get off and walk - casually reminding them to watch out for landmines. We were promised arrival by 12.30, but when we stopped at 12 for a toilet break (think Slumdog Millionaire) my hopes were not high. By this time too we'd gained another 20 or so passangers, and we were packed in tight, the Cambodians were happy as larry though - our legs are about twice as long as theirs. 6 hours later we arrived in Battambang. All in all I'm glad we did it - though I know Abi and Rachel would not say the same.
I'll carry this on tomoz. Its sweatsville in here, and the others are good to go.
Much Love
xxxx
Yet again I've left this too long, and I lack the discipline to make anything concise, so I'm sure this will be long...
Last time I wrote we were in Phuket, making our way to Bangkok, to catch a flight into Cambodia. We'd hoped to have a day in Bangkok - it happened to be Thai new year, and normally the whole city turns into a huge water fight. Should have been incredible. Unfortunately that was also the day the Red Shirts started kicking off, the whole thing was canceled, and we camped out in an airport hotel instead.
We were very happy to finally get to Phonm Pehn. Cambodia is one of the poorest countries in South East Asia, and Phonm Pehn felt like our first proper experience of a S E Asian capital. MENTAL traffic: seeing car is extremely rare and scooters ("motos") fly around in hoards carrying entire families. Alot of travellers hire motos themselves, but that was never going to be us lol, so we have got highly accustomed to travelling by tuk-tuk (a carriage pulled by a motorbike).
On our first day in the city we visited S21; originally a school, it was used by the Khmer Rouge for torture and imprisonment of victims, and is now a genocide museum. Still looked very very much like a school, which was very disconcerting - one information board detailed the use of PE equipment for torture. In Europe the school would probably have been turned into a swanky museum, but it was for the most part left just as it was in 1979 - all the more creepy. We bought a book there - First They Killed My Father - a survivors memoir. I read the entire book before we visited the Killing Fields the next day - which made it slightly easier to relate to the incomprehensible suffering that had happened there. From the Killing Fields we went straight to the Royal Palace - the splendor of which providing a massive contrast to what we'd just seen. The 95kg solid gold diamond encrusted buddha cheered me right up lol. The palace was incredible - Dad, you would have loved it!
Besides seeing the sights we had a pretty quiet time in Phonm Pehn. We arrived at the start of Khmer New Year - so besides a few tourists going about their business, some kids playing with water pistols, and the occasional group of dancing folks, the whole city had pretty much shut down for the 3-day period we were there. New Year is massive here because Cambodians DON'T HAVE BIRTHDAYS (I know!) - instead they all get a year older at new year - and if you ask a Cambodian his birthday he won't have a clue.
Next Stop: Siem Reap - home to Angkor Wat and the rest of the temples of Angkor. Before going I was embarrassingly ignorant about Angkor Wat - dubbed "8th wonder of the world" - the creation of which was a feat as grand in scale as the Egyptians and their pyramids. We had a great day seeing the temples (had to pack it to one day as its just about the most expensive thing you can do in Cambodia): got up to see the sunrise over Angkor Wat (slightly cloudy, but we were very glad of the cool temperatures), saw incredible Bayon heads, and scrambled over ruins (feeling alot like tomb raider). We had a break at lunch before heading back out in the afternoon for some more fun-packed-temple-action, and an elephant ride up to the highest temple to see the sunset. The entire day we were whizzed about by a patient tuk-tuk driver; we lost him at one point, conducted a very awkward search (didn't actually know his name lol), and eventually found him asleep lol. Polished off our perfect day with a traditional Khmer meal - which was very nice, served on banana leaves and all that jazz, although Rach almost through up at one point lol.
Putting all our faith in the Lonely Planet as usual we decided to catch a boat to Battambang that promised to be "the most enchanting boat trip in Cambodia". At 6.30 am we were picked up and packed into a minivan - 4 of us on the 3 seater back seat (one of which was a giant French man), and dropped at a jetty just outside the town. I wasn't too surprised when the boat bore absolutely no resemblance to the picture on our ticket. But initially we were comfortable enough, about 15-20 tourists on board we had plenty of room, even though we couldn't stand up. When we got going, though, I forgot all about the minor discomfort because the view from the boat was incredible. We wound through waterways, gliding through floating villages - seeing how people literally live on the river was amazing: people fishing, cooking, washing clothes, brushing their teeth, washing their hair, playing, and larking about. We passed floating houses, shops, schools and churches. It was early morning so we saw people stumbling straight out of their hammocks and into the water. The photos I took say it a lot better than I can, but I've never seen anything like it. The problem was, though, that the river was really too low to carry a boat full of tourists, and we got stuck every 20 minutes or so. The silent and elusive captain-man could normally get us going with his big stick, but often the engine failed, or they couldn't get it into gear, occasionally we were directed to pile ourselves to the front of the boat to try and redistribute the weight. At one point they made all the men get off and walk - casually reminding them to watch out for landmines. We were promised arrival by 12.30, but when we stopped at 12 for a toilet break (think Slumdog Millionaire) my hopes were not high. By this time too we'd gained another 20 or so passangers, and we were packed in tight, the Cambodians were happy as larry though - our legs are about twice as long as theirs. 6 hours later we arrived in Battambang. All in all I'm glad we did it - though I know Abi and Rachel would not say the same.
I'll carry this on tomoz. Its sweatsville in here, and the others are good to go.
Much Love
xxxx
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