Blog Finale

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