Vietnam and the Final Voyage

To my devoted and avid readers ;-),



Sooo...Vietnam. Country 17 of 17. The last, final, ultimate destination of my travels, placed high on a pedestal as the only remaining nation in which to end the adventures and misadventures of a year of globe-trotting. I can tell you, it didn't disappoint. The first stop in Vietnam was Ho Chi Minh City, aka Saigon. On the bus from Phnom Penh I met the rather lovely Fay, with whom the first couple of hours in HCMC were spent trawling the streets trying to find a reasonable room at a reasonable rate. Having discovered a clean and quiet little place on a backstreet with hot water (hurrah!), a TV (BBC World and 'pretty dresses' on FashionTV are always good) and a balcony (excellent for drying clothes - until it rains, that is) for a bargainous $8, we set about trying to be good tourists by ticking off the main sights. This was actually far more of a challenge than you might think. The 'little backstreet' we were staying on transpired to be little more than an inlet within the depths of a maze of backstreets, all of which looked the same, smelled the same, and, to all extents and purposes of us trying to find out way out, were utterly infuriating. 25 minutes later and a lot of gesturing and pointing 'conversations' with the amused Vietnamese, we found our way out onto the main street. But 25 minutes! Honestly.

Anyway, having made this momentous achievement, we miraculously made it across town to our first sight, the War Remnants Museum. The museum documented the Vietnamese war, with the American involvement being rather crudely detailed. Seeing the effects of Agent Orange and the lengths to which the Vietnamese went to fight the US was yet another reminder of the cruelty of war and inhumanity capable of human beings. A sobering couple of hours later, Fay and I left and decided we needed some cheering up, so set off for an ice cream parlour via the park. Now, we probably would have made it through the park hassle-free if it hadn't started to chuck it down with rain. Quite literally, the heavens opened up in about 2 minutes and bucketed it down, leaving us to run for shelter under a nearby pagoda. 40 minutes later and the sheets of rain diminished to a trickle and we made a run for the ice cream place. Only we got lost. Terribly, terribly lost. We waded around in ankle deep water, dodged floating plants and muddy verges, went round in circles for ages, and finally found ourselves near to a police station. A few directions later, and we did make it out of the park alive, albeit drenched to the core and in need of a cup of tea. Approximately 2 hours after we had decided to get ice cream, we finally ended up in a very nice ice cream parlour and sampled some excellent Vietnamese coffee too. After all this excitement, we went home to a hot shower, wet laundry, and watched pretty dresses. Good day.

The next day, given our success at losing ourselves, we thought we might try an organised tour and headed off to the Co Chi Tunnels. The Vietnamese communists used the tunnels to fight the Americans in the Vietnam war. They run all the way underneath the city, and lead as far as the centre of Vietnam and into Cambodia too. For ages the Americans couldn't work out how they couldn't find the VC (Viet Cong army), when the Vietnamese were hiding in holes right under the US base. The tunnels were only accessible by tiny trap doors which surfaced in strategically camouflaged and secluded spots. Now, me being me and being blonde and being interminably accident prone and inept, I decided it would be a great photo opportunity to get into one of said trap doors, despite the fact it is *tiny* and only really big enough for stunted hobbits to get in (or Vietnamese). And all was grand, getting in was easy, I had a photo or two taken, had the guide put the lid on my head and joked about how funny it would be if I couldn't get out and had to crawl to Cambodia...and then...I got stuck. Completely and utterly stuck. Now, I know I am tall, but I'm not ridiculously fat or anything, but I couldn't get out of the damn hole, even though I tried with all my non-existent upper-body strength and kicked and struggled tirelessly for at least 3 minutes. And to start off with it was pretty funny, with two well scrawny Vietnamese guys trying to pull me out by my armpits and my friend Faye laughing at me mercilessly...then after about 10 minutes it just got embarrassing. I really don't know how I got in and couldn't get out. I mean, the hole *was* small, and I am *not* a Vietnamese midget, but really! Eventually we had to recruit two 'big, strong British lads' (say this in a Yorkshire accent because it sounds better) who yanked me out with brute force, leaving Fay doubled over in stitches by a tree stump, and me utterly and truly embarrassed. After this traumatising experience, Fay suggested that ice cream was the only solution to making me feel less red-faced. Obviously, I agreed - and thus we ended up going to Fanny. Fanny is THE BEST ice cream in the WHOLE WORLD. Seriously - I had ginger and cinnamon ice cream with caramel sauce, and it was better than Cadbury's. This is not a compliment I would give unless it had been extremely carefully considered.


Day three - having done the only 'must-do' attractions we found appealing, we decided that a water park would be an excellent idea. It was. There were flumes and loop-the-loop rides and rapids and space-bowls and black holes and karaoke and lots and lots of Vietnamese fascinated by my white skin and blonde hair. We didn't get lost on our way here, because we took the bus. We went for ice cream again afterwards and watched pretty dresses. This was a good day too.


After three days in HCMC it was time to move on to the next destination: Dalat. Still accompanied by Fay, we headed to the cooler climes of the hills and got settled in another lovely little room with a TV (no pretty dresses though - we had to make do with CNN). The first day was spent getting to grips with the kookiness and quirkiness that is Dalat, wandering around the lake, topped with swam-shaped paddle boats, visiting the flower gardens, dotted with abstract naked statues, and marvelling at the so-called 'Crazy House', built by a Vietnamese architect to look like something straight out of Alice in Wonderland. I kid you not. Between fending off a posse of Easy Riders (men who offer tours on motorbikes across the hills of central Vietnam) and taking pictures of the oddities speckling the Dalat landscape, we managed to find some more good coffee and had a great first day. Day two was spent getting away from the hustle and bustle, though, as we trekked up into the Dalat hills to catch some spectacular views and walk among the (imported and planted) pine trees. Our guide did a stellar job of explaining the countryside to us, showed us a coffee plantation and explained that Vietnamese coffee is roasted in butter, rum, sugar, and, oddly, fish sauce, to give it its unique flavour! The final day in Dalat was spent doing a day tour of the countryside with the now-named Sleazy Riders, who had pursued us relentlessly around Dalat trying to secure our business. Slightly reluctantly, we agreed to a one day excursion as Fay was considering doing a 3 day trip with them up to Nha Trang and wanted to test the water before committing. Most of the day was very good, with the Easy Riders taking us to some prime photo spots and showing a few arsenal treats like how to make silk and how to weave bamboo baskets. We also had an excellent buffet lunch up in the hills and saw a convent and the Valley of Love - a valley of tourist tat and ridiculous monuments all looking like cartoon characters with the atmosphere of Disney land. Nice. The riders became their 'sleazy' moniker by Fay's driver's repeated reference to whisking her away for three days and 'money-saving' by sharing a room, and the short-changing attempted at lunch and the Valley of Love. All in all, a good day, but with a few frays around the edges which made us a little uncomfortable. To end the day on an irrevocable good note, however, we went to the night market, where we bought out the town's supply of rambuttan (awesome red little fruit like lychee but with soft green spines all over) and went woolly hat shopping. Do not ask why, in a country where he temperature is uniformly over 30 degrees, this was necessary - but at the time the pink and woolly hat Fay bought and the truly fabulous powder blue hat I purchased were a perfectly sensible way to spend our money, and provided a lot of entertainment for the Vietnamese lady we bought them from.



The following day we bussed into Nha Trang, a sea-side resort with a terrible reputation for theft but a great reputation for its night life. Upon arrival, we went for a wander along the sea-front, I tried a spot of sunbathing (and still failed to get anything resembling a tan), and we went out to test the renowned night scene. We did have a good night, complete with wine, cocktails and ice cream (naturally), but heard so many stories of muggings and pickpocketings we decided to hotfoot it out again the following day. To while away the hours until the bus, we hopped onto a boat trip, where we were entertained by karaoke, given the most amazing fruit buffet and food and squeezed in a nap and some snorkeling. That evening, though, relieved to have escaped the thieves, we boarded our first night bus. It was an experience. To start, the beds are only about 2 feet long, the Vietnamese not being terribly big people. This is problematic when you are 5 foot 9, as your knees inevitably end up by your armpits, and you end up squished into the bottom of the 'bed' in any case because it slopes at an angle designed to inflict severe spinal problems on even the most oxen-backed of people. Then there were the bumps in the road which sent us all careering 2 feet into the air and smashing us back down again with considerable force, the broken toilet which smelled offensive for the whole journey, and the screaming baby who cried allllll night. It was a delightful journey - thank goodness we found somewhere fantastic to stay in Hoi An to compensate!


Our accommodation in Hoi An was quite simply the most lavish and lush hotel I have ever stayed in. Goodness knows how we managed to wangle it, but we bartered and begged our way down from $25 a night for a room to a mere $12, thus $6 each, and for this money we got the following: queen beds each with crisp linen sheets and big pillows and comfy duvets, satellite TV, silk bath robes, a big bath, a hot water power shower, a balcony overlooking the swimming pool, a mini bar, massage and beauty room service, room service of food and drinks, wooden carved interior to the room, free buffet breakfast, free internet, free bike usage, the nicest staff in the world. It was pure luxury - for £3 a night. Three. Pounds. Per. Night. Heavenly. Now in Hoi An, apart from watching pretty dresses on our very own TV we were to get many things tailored, as Hoi An is tailor-capital of South East Asia. Thus, in 4 days I managed to get 2 three-piece suits, 6 shirts, 2 dresses and 2 winter coats for the princely sum of $333, while Fay got shirts, dresses, coats and all mmannerof paraphernalia too. In fact, we spent so much time in tailor shops we barely managed to see the beautiful lantern-filled UNESCO protected town or visit its main sights. We didn't get to the nearby beach and didn't really have a night out (instead, opting to drink wine while watching pretty dresses). We did manage a mini-excursion to My Son which the Lying Planet (the Vietnam Lonely Planet was unforgivably inaccurate on many counts) rated as a must see, but was, in reality, a heap of rubble in a field. Complete waste of a morning. We also managed to do a Vietnamese cookery course with a super lady called Hung, who is probably the best Vietnamese cook in all of Vietnam. However, the main thing we did in Hoi An was shop. A good few days well spent.


Next stop after Hoi An was, almost palindromically, Hanoi. We arrived here after a night bus which was, if you can believe it, even *more* horrific than the last. This journey involved a drunkard who puked on me, a woman who fell asleep on my lap, broken air-con which actually blasted hot air into my face (as if I nneededit when it was over 30 degrees ooutsideanyway), yet more screaming children, a television blaring bad Vietnamese pop into my face all night, the guy on the bunk above me stepping on me *every* time he got out or into 'bed' and being molested by an over-curious Vietnamese guy who took a liking to the 'silver' hairs on my arm. The first few hours of Hanoi were spent in a sleep deprived daze trying to book a tour to Halong Bay and trying not to get ripped off by the conniving woman who ran our hotel. We spent most of the day completely flat out in bed, although we did make it up for another Fanny ice cream :-)


Halong Bay, around which we spent 2 days cruising on a lovely pirate-esque ship, was wonderful. The towering rock pillars looming out of the blue ocean were magnificent while the sunny weather held up and the people on our boat made the trip a lot of fun. We explored a couple of caves, swam in the sea, sunbathed and took lots of pretty pictures - the perfect way to relax after an evil night bus! It would have been lovely to spend another day in Halong Bay, ddriftingamong the limestone karsts, but we with the end of my time in Vietnam stealing up quickly, we had to head back to Hanoi to jump on a night train to our final new destination - Sapa.

Sapa, another hill retreat similar to Dalat, was beautiful. Lush, rolling, green-clad hills shrouded in cloud and mist and romantically speckled with conical-hat-wearing locals and brightly-clothed hill tribes women. Here we spent three days trekking (or, rather, sliding down hills of mud) with the Hmong and Zao tribes, including a home stay in the hills with a fabulous family who had their own TVand karaoke machine. Needless to say, the karaoke machine alone made for an excellent evening of entertainment of Fay, Diane (a London-based French girl on our trek) and I singing (screeching) Careless Whisper at the top of our lungs. Coupled with the prolific amount of rice wine imbibed, however, the night was truly unforgettable (well, until we could no longer sing due to the effects of said rice wine - dangerous stuff! - at which point we started to forget not just the lyrics but most other things too!) Unfortunately the evening was slightly marred by me being bitten by a puppy and being utterly convinced I had contracted rabies. A lengthy (and slightly drunken) conversation with our terrific guide Peinh later, we established that the dog probably wasn't rabid, but that if I died of rabies my Mum would fly Peinh to the UK for my funeral. I think Peinh was happy with this arrangement. The following day, nonetheless, we decided that, although we were 99% sure the dog hadn't got rabies, with a disease that has a 100% fatality rate, you can't be too careful. So back to Hanoi and off to hospital it was for me...

So, back in Hanoi for a couple of days before I flew to Bangkok, the first stop was the Korean-Vietnam Friendship Clinic for a lengthy discussion with a vague yet amicable doctor about whether to have a booster shot. Thank goodness I had read up on rabies, or he might have convinced me to get completely the wrong treatment He was a bit rubbish. Anyway, injection had, we went off to Fanny to get consolatory ice cream (of course!) A wander around the lake and to a couple of sights finished the afternoon nicely, and we were ready for an evening of Vietnamese Water Puppets. These were brilliant. A little orchestra of weird and wonderful instruments accompanied the dances and theatrical shows of a selection of water puppets, ranging from animals such as oxen, swans and dragons to people of every degree - locals, rice workers, emperors, dancers, lovers...the agility and craftsmanship of the puppets was awesome, and the ability of the puppeteers was inspiring. The following day, and my final day of traveling with Fay, was spent crossing the last few sights off the list. The morning was spent trooping round the Mausoleum, seeing the embalmed body of Ho Chi Minh (weird - looked like a waxwork in Madame Tussuad's), taking pictures in a restored tradesman's house and...you guessed it...and final trip to Fanny. And here the stories of Vietnam and the travels of Helen and Fay came to an end, but there were many good days watching pretty dresses and eating ice cream, and Vietnam will be forever remembered for its fish sauce, coffee and conical hats (and ice cream!)

The Final Voyage, then, was to Bangkok. Here I had my concluding two-day shopping-fuelled meltdown before flying home. I dallied round Khoa San Road, pushed through the crowds of Chatuchak market like the locals, bartered and bargained at MBK, scooted round the smoggy streets of Bangkok in tuks tuks and came back a sweaty, disgusting mess. With armfuls of bargain buys and souvenirs, nonetheless, I was very content, and celebrated my purchases in the evening by eating curry and drinking cocktails with the splendid company of Adrian and Alice on the first evening, and Corey on the second. These friends, whom I made in Australia, were luckily in Bangkok at the same time as me, and we had a blast. The final night out in Thailand with Adrian and Alice was especially memorable, featuring much reminiscence and the 'Killing Time' challenge of working our way through the entire cocktail list of Killing Time bar. We managed it :-) The final evening with Corey was also lovely, if less alcoholic, and provided a little bit of time for reflection. A couple of Thai massages and a bit more shopping thrown in for good measure, and my two days were finally up and I slightly sadly, slightly excitedly stepped onto my final bus of my travels to head to the final airport of my travels and get the final flight home.

And now, 5 days, one roast dinner, several rounds of Marmite on toast and at least a hundred cups of tea later, I am very much home. It's all been rather overwhelming to be honest. I have all these clothes, all these books, all this stuff that was once indispensable to my life yet which I have not missed at all this year. I do have a family and friends, however, which I have very much missed and are truly indispensable, and whom I have been happily catching up with. I'd love to finish this blog on some cheesy, well thought-out, poetic note, but instead I think I will take a little more time to adjust (and drink a few more vats of tea), and I may well write an epilogue...but for now, I shall bid you adieu, and end the last of my travel-blog entries proper.

Helen

xxx