Thailand - Bangkok

Throughout all of our travels there has been an overwhelming sense of awe at one side of a place or another. That awe comes in waves of positive and negative, but usally upon reflection, that awe harkens back to the essense of the particular location and the joy that accompanies the sheer experience of being amongst something new and so very up and coming. One place though has thrown us for a loop and as I write this, we are still trying to collect our overall thoughts on the location. This is very difficult for me to say as this particular place was the one that we not only were looking forward to the most, but also because it is probably the most well known on our itinerary for its paridise-like qualities and its ease for making memories both romantic and everlasting... The everlasting part may be true, but for very different reasons than one might think. Overall this is a tale of a bittersweet time in our travels. One we will never forget and for which, in time, I am sure we will share many a belly laugh or at least provide helpful travel tips for those planning their own adventure.

Bangkok, how should I compare thee? Not to Luang Prabang that's for sure, or Seoul or Tokyo or Hanoi... You get the picture. Bangkok is more than likely the most notorious of the cities we have chosen to visit and unfortuately we experienced much of what is rank within that notority despite being there for less that 36 hours. Now, this is not to say that Bangkok doesn't have its upsides. We were able to sample a few of those more positive features, but in many ways, the negative outweighed the positive and made our escape to the southern parts of the country that much more hasty.


Let us begin with this tale of travel tribulation... We arrived in Thailand via bus from Vientiane. The bus ride was fairly positive with two stops. One before the Friendship Bridge to depart officially from Laos and once on the otherside of the bridge to pass through Thai immigration. This was a fairly painless process and we got a little humor out of the warning signs for those who might think of starting a not so legitimate business in Thailand.


When we arrived at the Thai border the guide on our bus informed us that the train station was about 1km from the bus border crossing and that we needed to either walk or get a taxi from here to get to the station. We opted for the walk, but almost instantly we were confronted with the infamous tuk tuk drivers. We already knew how pushy they can be so we kept on our course and made our way towards the bus station. Along the way we ran into some not friendly dogs and more tuk tuk drivers. Perhaps these were really warning signs, oracles foreshadowing the forboding future that awaited us? At the time, we retained our innocent outlook and made it to the train station unscathed. We had a quick dinner at one of the road side restaurants, grabbed some rations for the journey and bordered our overnight train. We spent the first few hours reading and then made our way to our respective sleeping compartments (I was on the top bunk). The sleeping arrangement was not so bad... I did feel a little wary of the possibility of falling out of the top bunk and the flourescent light next to my face made it a bit difficult to get into the nighty nighty frame of mind. All in all though, not a bad way to travel and get a night's accomodation taken care of.


Upon our arrival in Bangkok we were informed that our plan for buying a rail ticket (which would allow us to travel freely down the Thai penninsula through to Malaysia and Sngapore) was an impossibility. We shook our fist a little at the fabricating author of that "info" passage on seat61.com. We decided to take a seat for a while in the station, but not before standing for the ceremonial playing of the Thai national anthem in which all Thais (and any Farangs who might be in the vicinity) should (must) stop what they are doing and stand facing the portrait of the king. After our musical interlude we took a seat and tried to determine our next step. We had already pin pointed a place to stay through our Lonely Planet guide and spent some time talking to a travel agent in the station about options for visiting the more beachy parts of Thailand. This is where we became a bit torn. In Ko Tao we could scuba dive for 4 days for a pretty great price, but getting to and from there would not be very easy and we would lose quite a bit of time. We decided to think about it a bit more and make a decision a little later.

We took a cab to our hotel - the Rikka Inn and after freshening up, grabbed some lunch and started walking around the city. Not long into our stroll we were stopped by a "gentleman" who asked us where we were going. We had read about the "well dressed con man" in the Lonely Planet guide and our guard was up, but he was persistant and said he just wanted to give us some advice on what to see. He gave us a couple of useful tips right off the bat and we decided that he was a pretty decent guy just looking to help out a couple tourists. He took a look at our map and marked off a couple "must-sees". He also informed us that today was a Buddhist holiday so all the temples were free to get into and that all tuk tuks with Thai flags hanging on them would cost only 20THB for 3 hours because the government subsidised them on major holidays. Well, we felt really pleased at how nice this man, Kim he said, was and no sooner did he finish talking that a tuk tuk with all the right flags pulled up near us. How lucky! (lucky, lucky some might say).


A little old man was driving who was all smiles and told us a little about Bangkok. Our first stop was at the "Lucky Buddha" a temple with a Buddha made out of solid gold (maybe). Then we were told to go to the Bobe Collection, a factory (government factory according to Kim) where we could see the suits of famous designers being made. When we walked in, it seemed more like a store front and we were ushered into a side room, given a beer and asked what kinds of suits we liked. We were told to look through some books, check out some fabrics and before we knew it they had Matt up measuring him. Now, we had no intentions of buying anything. We were just interested in seeing how they were made as we knew Thailand to be famous for suit making. Then the questions they were asking got more detailed - what colors, fabrics, styles, how long are we in Thailand, what kinds of dresses does the lady like... Well, we became more intrigued at the possibility of buying one - they can't be that expensive. "Mr. Jack" our personal sales rep must have been reading our minds because he began showing us how much other Westerners had paid for his fantastic Armani suits (just without the label). He also told us what a deal he could get us shipping it back to the US. "Mr Jack's insistence gradually became more and more pressing, constantly telling us what a deal we were getting. With each price Matt was pushing back telling him that we didn't really want a suit or that the price was much too high, but each time Mr Jack would refigure the deal, find another way of making it seem like a good one. The wheeling and dealing kept firing at us and we just sat there a bit bewildered thinking, "Is it really that good of a deal? Are the suits really that good? It's definitely cheaper than the US. We're getting a better deal than his other customers.". It was all just nutty and before we knew it we were agreeing, paying and walking out the door with instructions to return the next day for a proper fitting for Matt's suit and my dress. We're still not sure how or why, but we left the store having signed for one suit and one dress to be tailored. Matt was doing the conversion and turned to me in the TukTuk - "we've just been scammed".

Now first thoughts were that the clothes would be nice, we didn't doubt that, but we didn't budget for clothes for this amount and why were we in the store in the first place. The bad feelings kept coming as the next stop on our tour was supposed to be the government tourism office, the T.A.T., to discuss where we wanted to visit next in Thailand, but instead our taxi driver brought us to a private tour office. The extent of the scamming was becoming apparent and the extent of each of the players involvement. When we came out of the office our little old man was on his phone and he rushed over to ask why we didn't book something... We told him it was not the T.A.T and that was where we wanted to go. He told us he was take us there and then he proceeded to take us to another private tour company. This one had an even pushier sales rep inside, promising to give us "Thai people" prices. We got out of there as quickly as possible and questioned our driver. He tried to tell us that that was where we wanted to go, but we dismissed this and told him we wanted to go to the train station. The man on the street, Bobe and our tuk tuk driver were all involved in some kind of elaborate Thai web of lies and deception. It was time to go, but of course we had to convince our elderly scam artist to drive us there first. He protested for awhile trying to tell us we should follow the rest of the route on our map (the one Kim had planned for us), but no we knew we had be vicitimized. He eventually agreed, but as we were driving he got on the phone and then proceeded to tell us he had to "switch drivers". We protested again, but he did not listen and drove us down some weird side streets and into very unfamiliar territory (not that we knew Bangkok but a pigeon and a map can keep some semblance of locale) his face turning more sour and graven, his calls on the cell phone more serious and tempestuous. As soon as he stopped we jumped out, handed him the 20THB as was "tradition" on this "holiday" and ran back the way we came to catch a real, metered cab to the train station.

From the train station, we talked to the travel agent, but realized that with our time constraints Ko Tao might be too tough and it would probably mean more overnight trains or very long bus rides... Something we weren't quite ready to experience again so soon after our Highway to Purgutory journey in Laos. We looked through our Lonely Planet guide and saw that Phuket had an international airport that would allow us to fly in and out to Kuala Lumpur in Malaysia. We knew it was a touristy spot, but this was our honeymoon-ish part of the trip and as long as we could have beach, relaxation, a romantic dinner or two and some other water activities we were all set. The prices we saw for flights also helped sow the decision.

We dealt with our now unwanted suit situation right after making our Phuket decision which was less than painless. Capitolone, the credit car we were using took a long time to answer and the initial person we spoke to didn't have the clearest of English. We wanted to make sure the scammers didn't profit from us and the whole ordeal of being taken advantage of, profiled, preyed upon and scammed left us with quite a bad taste in our mouth about Bangkok as a whole and we decided getting to Phuket sooner rather than later. "One Night In Bangkok" also makes a pretty good movie title if any producers out there are looking for a quirky tale of a Brit and his Yankee lass bumbling through the wacky seediness of Bangkok.

We decided to spend our night in Bangkok hanging out on our street, Khao San, known to be one of the backpacker meccas full of stalls, food carts, bars, ping pong promoters (if you don't know, don't ask and if you do know, giggle or cringe - your choice) and too many college kids to count. We ate some half decent Pad Thai and then tried to go home and sleep, but we were on the second floor, street side. You can imagine that the noise made sleep a bit difficult. Matt is usually a sound sleeper, any place, any time, anywhere. I eventually nodded off, but poor Matt suffered for hours. This only solidified our decision to leave Bangkok, especially since the hotel wouldn't give us a refund on the second night's stay. Their solution, though innovative, was not very guest oriented. "The 7-11 sells ear plugs". We forfeited the prepaid hotel room and made a beeline for the airport via the Police Station to ensure our fraudsters were put to the axe.

At the Tourist Police Station everyone was very nice and sympathetic which at least helped remember that there are positives within the Bangkok city limits. Can't say this is enough to make us want to go back anytime soon... Fingers crossed for Phuket.

Out of Luang Prabang

After a very unexpected postal bill the night before it was good to feel thrifty again while on the way to the bus station. It was 320,000 kip for the two of us to catch the VIP bus to Vientiane, a saving of about 2m kip.....which basically went on stamps to end our parcels home. We had a terrific last night though, sampling more of the local rice whisky, very good it was too.



The ride the next morning was another little surprise though. I had expressly asked when booking that I needed to have leg room and a bathroom for the journey was a must (we desperately needed to rehydrate) after the trekking the day before. As has been usual in Asia, I simply did not fit in the VIP bus, plus the bacthroom was out of order. It was certainly an experience though. 10 hours of sticky crampedness and the only saving grace was that Rin and I got two whole seats to ourselves. I simply could not have sat otherwise. Even Rin was terribly cramped due to the two girls in fron of her reclining fully and crashing out for the entirity of the journey. You do pass through some exquisitely beautiful countryside though....not that you can see it that clearly through the filthy windows. Like something out of Lord Of The Rings, you wind through precipitous mountain roads that remain muddy and unpaved, onto valley trails that wind to the next pass. Stopping ocassionally to pour water on the brakes and for passengers to relieve the pressure cooker pascals on their bladders. The distance is only about 380kms, but it must be driven with unerring care, with potholes, other cars, motorbikes, water buffalo and people lurking around every hairpin in the road. The driver was incredible in keeping the crate on the road, my hat off to him in every way.

Laos - Luang Prabang and the Elephants

One of the most amazing experiences one could wish for. We were blown away. It started a little frantically as we had to check out of our guest house while simultaneously catching a bus and checking into another guest house. Lao patience is a virtue and our driver, Lai, was a virtuous man indeed.

Elephant Village is without doubt the best organisation to take this type of experience with. Their core mission is put before profit with the well being of Elephants and the conservation of Laos jungle being top prioritiies. Logging is still flourishing in Laos due to the increasing demand from the Chinese (who are setting up Chinese Immigration towns around Laos that dwarf anything from the colonisation of the past centuries). Elephants are used due to the very challenging conditions and terrain. Unfortunately they are literally worked to death and then eaten. Brutal given this is 2011 but we're not here to judge the traditions of another people. The outcome though is that elephants in Laos are a highly endangered species, along with many tree species that are being cut down to create attractive flooring. For a National Geographic lover or David Attenborough affectionado, you'll know how many traits elephants share with humans. The ability to cry, show grief, their gentle nature, the emotions and behaviour they demonstrate to their young and to the loss of one of their herd. They are intelligent, communicative and have happiness as well as sadness, they are also self aware, recognising themselves in a mirror (put a mirror infront of a cat or dog and you'll see what I mean). The Elephant Village has 12 elephants (they just added one) and they invite paying tourists to ride and be educated on elephants through tours and vacation stays at the aptly named Shangri Lao, or through one of the many Mahout training courses they run.

Corinne and I took a one day trek and elephant ride with the trek coming first.
Jungle trekking is incredible due to the variety of terrain and the variety of flora, fauna and animals. It is yet more indelible on the mind when you throw in a mile or two of rapids that terminate at the Mekong River. To get to the start point for the trek we took a long boat up the Mekong, the recent rain fall swelling the river and causing a harder than usual upstream ride.


Once at the beginning of the route I was wishing I had a parang or similar as the recent flooding had caused some bank collapse along the route and an interesting foray over and under jungle limbs and vines, ocassionally decending through untrekked trail using the vines.


It was always worth it though and we preferred to be on this side of the river (apparently fewer leaches).


The scenery was incredibe and the ocassional fellow trekker of a different variety provided diversion and time for me to pick my jaw back up off the floor. Here's a big snail......


a hairy and very itchy caterpillar....


our friend the leach


and a few more surprises


even a lovely cool pool to swim in at the end - all very Tarzan and Jane like.


Of course the highlight though is the ride back down, which can only be described as extraordinary. I felt very colonial, and Rin.......well, not sure how Rin felt but she steered Abdulalah a true course over fallen trees and down very steep slippery slopes. She can be my Mahoutess any day.


After the Elephant VIllage excursion was over we had the joy of properly checking into the guesthouse we'd dropped our backpacks off in the morning.
I'd say we did pretty well.

Laos - Luang Prabang

Sometimes it is fate, sometimes luck. I'm going to put this one down to a bit of both. After saying goodbye to our Halong Bay buddies at the side of the highway outside Hanoi we jumped into a taxi that took us to the airport hoping that we could catch a plane to the Lao Shangri La...or Luang Prabang. Travelling here was a breeze, if a little uncommon. Taxi to airport, ticket from Lao Airlines and then a short hop with more good inflight food and entertainment courtesy of the two wee laddies sitting behind us. Landed, thanked our luck for being at the back of the plane and therefore first off, straight into the building with terminal written over it, up to official, paperwork filled out and $72 later we were handing beautifully inlaid visas to the friendly immigration guy before picking up a map walking out of the terminal and into a taxi to the only guest house we knew the name of. From the confines of Hanoi to the firm but comfy bed of the Lao Wooden House, Lao Beer in hand, took 100 minutes and not one of them had we planned but each one of them was justified as this next entry will testify.

Laos is a mixed country. Neutral in the Viet Nam war it nevertheless has been the most bombed country in the world, ever. With over a quarter of a billion stealthy little pieces of ordinance being dropped into its pristine jungle. The downside of which is that the US has no idea where they were dropped and the Lao people have no idea what to do with them. They just call then uxo's because unexploded ordinance is too much of a mouthful to be said with the alarming regularity that is required. People are losing limbs, eyes or their lives on all too regular a basis and the very few centres that do exist to put shattered humans back together are crammed, under funded and forgotten by almost the entire world.

That being said, the country and Luang Prabang are beautiful, happy and most certainly getting there. In the past 10 years there has been an explosion of another kind. Tourism is flourishing and with it poverty is decreasing. Not that being poor is causing unhappiness. Everywhere you go "sabbadii" (hello) rings out and children wave with their exhuberant greetings. If Japan is a country that ripples with technology and societal advancement, and Korea is a country that shows how 40 years can transform a nation, then Vietnam shows a how transition to freetrade and tourism can have a bumpy ride and Laos is a country that by its very nature wishes to hold onto its traditions but is struggling to cope with the pressure of bigger brothers and the promises of riches, that 15 years ago would have been unimaginable.

The trouble with this picture is that it won't be in the interests of the country in the long term. And though we might praise the government for bringing much needed development and cash into the country, they will be judged by the scars left behind. The biggest threats that I saw are the following:
logging by the Chinese, Casinos by the Chinese, land clearing by the Chinese and Koreans. I'll explain more later, but right now I was so glad that Corinne and I managed to see what we did when we did. We'll be coming back asap, before it is all gone.



The city/town of Luang Prabang is a mecca of Buddist temples, with grand buildings, guilded in gold and as ornate as any art you can imagine on most streets. They vary in size and tourist access. The image at the top of the page was after climbing about 350 steps to the top of the steep sided hill that dominates the town's steet map. Upon it is a beautiful shrine and temple. The view is amazing as the below panoramic hopefully shows. The only problem, unlike much of the town was the abundance of litter on the hill. In part you can blame the town, there are very few bins available for litter, but when you consider who is also likely to be dropping it, you can't help feel a sense of shame for the tourism that has come and changed the way this sleepy, devoutly Buddist town has to be.


We spent much of the rest of the day looking through the temples and marvelling at the mixtures of architecture. Clearly french colonial but within the mix an abundance of Lao influences. The wooden framing, the sloping roofs and single room first floors. There are many guest houses all around the town, so many in fact that it is hard to imagine that during the dry season, when many more tourists flock to the area, that they could possibly all be filled. In 2005 there were about 60 guest houses, in the past 6 years that number has gone up to over 280, and I suspect there are many more that open only for the season. Cuisine took up a good portion of the day and the local delicacy of fish Laap was consumed three times during our stay. A wonderful blend of minced fish, sping onion, mint, lime juice, green or red chilli and another herb that we failed to recognise. I am sure there were many other subtle flavours that were added to encompass each delicious mouthful, but for the timebeing, we were going on trying to recognising ingredients. Lao cuisine, like Vietnamese is very variable depending on the locale but also each restaurant had a chef who would create suble differences. Each meal was also to come with your choice of boiled or sticky rice. For sure the favourite was sticky rice. Steamed in a bamboo pot with non of the starches removed into water the rice would form a very sticky mixture that would be pinched out of the pot with the right hand, though we tended to use me tu (chopsticks).

Two places of particular mention, one for location, the other for the food are Tum Tum Cheng's and Diuy Sabbi. Tum Tum's was opened by an ex Marriott Budapest Chef who travelled extensively and then came back to Laos to open a restaurant and cullinary school. To date he/she has taught over 20,000 students. Personally I am glad, teach more, this cuisine should be everywhere. The Tum Tum secret soup was to die for and if I hadn't tried to be a hero by eating a whole red chilli, the Fish Laap would have been sensational.


Diuy Sabbi was an entirely different experience and I'm not going to lie, we went there for the 2-1 cocktails that a flyer picked up in town was offering. To be honest, the cocktails were tasty, but very small, more like large shots. The food was good though and the setting was incredible. Overlooking the Mekong river, wrapped in teak and bamboo the place had it's own air of relaxation that we've not experienced before. Lounging on scatter cushions at floor level, your body moulds its own tranquility. The music was the only let down as the Jack Johnson album on repeat quickly grew tiring. It was the perfect place to escape the 2pm monsoon and rain was a suitable excuse for soaking up 3 hours there. Did I mention they also do massage!

Viet Nam - Halong Bay

At the start of writing this one I have absolutely no idea when the post will stop. Halong Bay and our swashbuckling escapades on the Dragon Pearl III (or DP III as our Aussie compatriots giggled - naughty girls) was in short, pretty darn fabtasticismo.

Being picked up from Hanoi early in the morning for the 3-4 hour journey to the coast was an easy way to get here. We were second in the bus. A Dutch couple, Mike and Karlyn, were already boarded and along the way we picked up a mystical foursome of Australians who went by the assumed identities of Martine, Annie, Zeb and Michelle. As you read on you'll realise how these four women would feature fairly heavily in the laughs that would follow, but know that at the incubus of our meeting, we had not idea who they were, what they were doing here and how much we'd laugh together. We just figured they were mysterious and had lovely smiles.

A toilet break at the half way point was a great opportunity for us to use the all too shabby toilet facilities at a store that sold eveything we'd already seen everywhere else, but at prices so inflated I thought it was sure to burst. A simple piece of art that was found at the ubiquitous stalls in Hanoi for four or five dollars depending on your negotiation skills was heading north of $100 here. I relieved myself and went outside to see talented rock artists fashion incredible sculptures using angle grinders and chisels. Bit of a bugger that our ongoing flights had a weight restriction as a couple of lions I though would go down rather splendidly on our beach in the US. They really were quite fantastic pieces and it was a shame they were located next to such an overpriced tourist store.


Upon arrival at the Indochina Junk Tours office in Halong Bay we settled in and watched the Aussie four taste test tubes of reprocessed potato snack. Then we bought the tube that illicited the most nods. Our tour guide for the next three days was Tinh, a sweet man with good English and a fantastic was of starting everything with "lady and gentlemen" making us all feel very grand and well above our station. With puffed up chests and feeling rather please for ourselves we set off to the waiting bus boat that was to navigate through the throngs of other Junk boats in harbour area.....to our craft, the Dragon Pearl number three. A recently built ship with a maximum capacity of 20 persons not including crew. There were 21 of us.
After boarding, introduction, a complimentary melon drink and the distribution of cabin keys we settled in, pulled anchor and headed out into the fabulously breathtaking Halong Bay (descending dragon).


Rin and I were feeling pleased that we'd said we were on our Honeymoon and were given star treatment (ok, we've no idea whether it was star or not, but we told ourselves that our cabin was the best). The cabin was tight but cozy, the bathroom clean and with a good shower and storage space for Rin's plethora of toilet bags, and there was space on the bedside cabinet for the Japanese whisky that we needed to polish off (I was fed up of lugging it around at this point), and a couple of bottles of water. Now, it is at this point that I will tell you of my one and probably only niggles of the trip. The water supply. The showers were piping hot, the faucets had good pressure, but the allocation of drinking water was akin to a the "Rhyme of the Ancient Mariner" sized ration. Tinh had told us that we'd receive two glasses of water with each meal and a bottle of water each morning. I counted it up, in total, if you took full provided ration, you got an alarmingly low 750ml of water per day to drink.....please bare in mind that we're on a $500 for 48 hours of cruising.

It's here that I'll introduce Wayne and Fiona Bosden. Our introduction to these upstanding Australians was pretty much formally cemented when Wayne told me that Bear Grylls told him (via a show) that you could remain hydrated through salt water enemas.
Corinne and I went swimming for hours that afternoon.


The 48 hours of Junking was well laid out. The basic itinerary was as follows:
Depart, eat, cruise around, kayak, swim, cruise around, eat, drink, sleep, wake, eat, visit locals (and drink), swim, cruise around, eat, kayak, visit beach, eat, drink, sleep, wake, eat, swim, cruise around, check out, eat, applaud, disembark, hugs, get on bus.
I'm not intending to trivialise it, quite the opposite really, there was always something to do and the time to actually sit on the deck was limited, at least in the itinerary. Ocassionally you could forgo an activity and just remain on deck soaking up some rays, or more likely having an afternoon siesta (they needn't be mutually exclusive). The itinerary has some highlights though and I'll devote the ongoing outpouring to them.

The kayaking on the first day was fun. Everyone took part and travelled in pairs. There were a range of abilities but most commented that Rin and I looked particularly skilled. They didn't realise perhaps I was just doing as I was told.


The kayaking gave the ability to get up close and personal to the formations in the Bay. A limestone that was slowly being worn way through the millenia. Unfortunately I suspect the erosion rate is increasing as the rain becomes more acidic. It's has got some years yet though. Here's Wayne and Fei admiring the foliage.


And Zeb (short for Deborah because an ex-boyfriend was either Russian, had a speech impediment, or was really very dyslexic) and Michelle, going all prehistoric on us and searching out a cave. I think secretly they were hoping to find something in there.....a caveman perhaps.


Here we have Brigitte, Marco, Tijmen and Jurre who brought the Dutch contingent up to rival the Aussies. USA and Britain were heavily outnumbered on the trip with 9 Australians, 8 Dutch, a Spaniard and an Irishman (living in Spain) completing the compliment.






On the end of the first day the good ship Dragon Pearl III anchored off the southern edge of a traditional floating fishing village, seen in the background below.


The people here never leave the village, usually marrying within and living almost exclusively on the water. There are five such villages in Halong bay with approximately 150 villagers in each. Their lifestyle is interesting. Poor, yes, very poor, but also very happy. We didn't observe frowning, but we did observe generosity, collectiveness and a determination to preserve who they were and how they lived. I woke early that morning, my head buzzing with all sorts of things. Sitting topside I watched as dawn broke, the floating fishermen of the area rising from their small craft. A wooden boat with low powered two stroke engines and enough room to sleep in a small covered area. I can't all it a cabin. Sometimes they slept in pairs, perhaps father and son, other boats with only one.

Rising from their slumbers they would stretch, tidy the deck of personal possessions, prepare a few lines and then start straight out. From wake to make took each around 2-5 minutes. Not leaving enmasse or in the same directions, each was out to make the day count. I think fishing can be a tranquil life no matter when you do it, but I wonder in my mind whether it is a tranquil life when you fish for your livelyhood and for the survival of your family. Despite only two meals a day and those meals being centred around fish, the floating villagers are healthy, happy and content, many opting to stay and continue the tradition rather than adding to the frentic pace of the city. Long may their way of life continue.


It is a real priviledge to have the opportunity to interact with humans in the way we did. Brief yes, but enlightening also. The things that are important to them are so different to the things that are important to us. Simplicity, laughter and support made them happy. Children were very much the focus with infant mortality low enough for couples who usually wed within the village to sustain two children. Who adapt to their surroundings quickly, learning to fish and how to have fun at an early age.


You'll perhaps notice the similarlity in rowing technique between here and the inland rivers of Viet Nam, the row forward technique worked for them. Here's a few friends sharing the experience with us.
Mike and Karolyn


Mark and Nuevais (sp?)


Jason and Sue infront of the newly rebuilt school that replaced the one destroyed a year ago by a typhoon.


The gang...they started us off on green tea, then the village leader brought out the good stuff, a spirit made of bees and honey, complete with bees in it. It actually tasted pretty good, like a mead without the lasting sweetness.



The highlight of the trip for everyone was yet to come. We had heard of the "BBQ in the cave" but thought little more of if than literally a BBQ in a cave with us milling around supping beers and cocktails, mingling, chatting and eating. What greeted us was something very very special and a memory that I will take with me forever.

The cave was situated up about 40 steps in the side of one of the dramatic rock formations that characterise Halong Bay. After stooping through about 50m of low passageway lit by candlelight were were greeted by a continous peel of applause from the crew. The cave was stunning, with candles everywhere complimenting the exquisitely laid out table.


I had ordered a nice Shiraz ahead of time and seated with Jason, Sue, Wayne, Fiona, Michelle, Zeb, Martine and Annie, were were going to be having a wild time. Conversation flowed freely, interupted only by masterpieces brought out by our charming and attemtive crew. Each course was preceeded by an ornately and detailed carving in vegetable. Doves, an eagle, a dragon and our junk boat all showcased for our delight.


The only bad part about the evening was that it had to end. But when it did, it was was brought to a conclusion in style with the crew serenading us, a mixture of hand claps and singing that was wonderful. Corinne and I along with Mark and Nuevais were also presented with a "Honeymoon" cake and flowers. In return the crew asked for us to sing to them.....hmmm, I wonder who could do that.

I was filled to the gills with pride, admiration and love as Corinne, with no warm up and very little in the way of introduction, mesmerised the cave. First with an Ella number, the harmonics of the cave accentuating the velvety chocolately low notes, seducing peoples jaws to drop and stay there. Then with O'Danny Boy, pulling those who knew it into a fine rendition of an Irish classic. Nothing was missing, it was perfect.

Viet Nam - 4 days in Ha'Noi (rising dragon)

After a decent sleep in Hotel Charming II we set out to familiarise ourselves with the city of the Rising Dragon. We had four days here. On reflection probably a day or perhaps two too long, but it was nice to be situated in a hotel that was relatively comfortable, even if overpriced for what it was offering.

First off, the way in which traffic moves about the city needs a mention. It is quite unlike anything you can encounter anywhere else as 6.5 million inhabitants travel on 5.5 million motorbikes and mopeds. It is a literal river of people sitting upon combustion engines. The painful fact is that per mile driven, one of these little motorbikes (even the new ones) put out more pollution than your typical yank SUV and there's no indication that the number is going to get any fewer. This river of chattering engines spill over everywhere, with no road rules to follow it is a miracle of entropy that more people are not in accidents.

Our first foray out of the hotel was to orientate ourselves to the city. It's pretty uncomplicated for the casual tourist as almost everything of worth to see is situated in or around the old quarter. A lake dominates the old quarter itself, and reputed to have 2 giant turtles still in it, now it is the enviable view on many postcards. It's not clean by any stretch of the imagination but it does prove a nice backdrop to the shrine that sits in the southern portion and the temple on the northern.


Our first port of call was the temple itself and we picked up a couple of lovely paintings and a decorative box that we would not see for sale again until the mountains of northern Laos. Prior to the temple we opted for our first Viet Nam meal. Looking at the skyline around the lake we spotted a load of Farangs up on the 5th floor of a centrally located building. Heading up we got a great view of the lake and of a particularly chaotic intersection. Only in Viet Nam would you have the option of postcard view on one side, and death defying feats by locals and tourist pedestrians on the other. I have a video to describe what I mean but it appears our blog app doesn't like it (this is my second writing of Hanoi). A photo will have to suffice though it doesn't come close to giving the scene justice.


Hanoi has a good share of temples but the main must see is Uncle Ho's mausoleum. Apparently the only day it is closed is Monday. I'd long ago forgotten what day of the week it was, knowing only the date because I was wearing my wrist watch. Days of the week didn't seem to matter to much these days. We didn't get into Ho Chi Minh's mausoleum, because when we did go, it was Monday. We did however go to the museum erected in his name. It was a bit of an odd collection of art and personal effects with all too much praise being given. I don't doubt that he did great things for Viet Nam, and there is no doubt he is a loved past leader, but every piece of museum history lauded him as the great saviour and leader. All being said, Ho Chi Minh was an incredible character, modest, wise, intellectually savy and seemingly incorruptable. I rare trait in Asian politics, then and now.

One of our nights also turned out to be a hoot. I'll start by telling you of a place called Highway 4. Highway 4 is the main produce route from northern Viet Nam, feeding the major cities with the meats, veggies and booze. The restaurant was a wonderful fusion of flavours from all over the country and specialised in a rice based drink called Son Tinh which I'll talk more about in a bit. The food was terrific. I ate there three of the four nights I was in Hanoi it was that good. Highway 4 is also one of Viet Nam's first home grown franchise's, and perhaps the first restaurant based franchise. All others seemingly belonging to external entities like KFC. By the way, we never saw a Burger King or a MacDonalds. It's amazing how the small things in life can bring you so much comfort. The meals at Highway 4 included locusts, crickets, osterich, water buffalo, all prepared in a variety of ways. The salads were great and in general, ordering a number of dishes and a sticky white rice was enough to satisfy two hungry westerners. The price, not including drinks would generally come to less than 200,000 dong and with a decent amount of drinking you could double that. We usually opted for the later, only because we felt supporting the local economy was the right thing to do, but also because we were told that liquor would keep us healthy. We were told this by two rather suspicious looking characters we met on the first night. After a couple of cheers's with glasses of Dragon Fart raised in salutation we introduced ourselves. They went by Dan and Greg. Dan was a long timer in Hanoi, Greg felt he was still finding his feet after 18 months. These guys, in addition to being nuts a la Grant and Joe style, as we'd find out as the night unfolded, were also the men behind Highway 4. Greg from the restaurant industry in London, Dan was involved with Son Tinh and probably many other things, but from the sound of it, he was the brains and driving force behind the Highway franchise. Six restaurants and counting with the first of the official franchises openinig up in the south of the country.


Greg and Dan invited us out to another of their restaurants and their main HQ. Another unassuming building on the outside but a pretty and artistically pleasing establishment on the inside. Greg gave Rin and I the run down on the Son Tinh brand, the drinks and the heritage. I've got to say that in my opinion it, and the liquors, were damn fine. They ranged in flavour and strength, with about 27 being made but 12 available for sale and consuption. The flavours ranged from almost whisky like to herbal and medicine tasting. It was hard to determine the actual strengths because they all slipped down so easily, that, and Greg's generosity meant reading a label through my rose Tinh'nted goggles was a challenge.

After the sampling Dan announced with much aplomb that Hanoi Rock City was calling. It made me wonder about the Glam Rock band that my brother was all too into during the 80's, (Hanoi Rock). After a surprisingly hefty entrance fee we went into a huge outdoor garden with a big bar dominating one corner and at the far end a staircase going up to a large fan cooled gig room. The band were playing varieties of very heavy metal, not so much covers, but certainly heavily influenced by Metallica and ocassionally a brutal Slayer influence (if my Death Metal days serve me well). Rin and I headbanged for a while before retiring back to the bar and conversations with the ex-pats that had filled the place. It was not a location many tourists would find but it was a place filled with French, Irish, English and Aussies who had turned up in Hanoi and forgotten to leave.


The night was epic, Dan and Greg both providing an elightening experience to a city that lives beyond the tourist veil. They reminded us of the difficulties starting a business in an emerging economy where corruption at all levels is still the norm and success is usually defined not by how good you are, how sound your business is, but who you know and how much you're willing to pay.
I hope one day our paths can cross again. In the meantimie, we seek out Son Tinh, look for Highway 4 and raise our glasses to "Chucks Away"!

Korea to Viet nam

Flying in with China Eastern Airlines was fun and there were some surprises along the way.

We left Korea using the train. It was a fairly early start with a quick visit to the post office to send some items back to the US. That too was pretty straightforward with the packaging materials at hand and a lovely Korean postoffice clerk to help us through the process. She also reminded me that sending our 17 year old Japanese whisky would not be possible. Disappointing but to be expected, besides the upside was that we'd be able to drink it sooner rather than later.



The trip to the airport is fairly straightforward, with line 5 going to Gimpo airport and then a transfer to using a private train to Incheon AIrport. Incheon is certainly worth a mention. For the past 6 years consecutively it has won the accolade of being the world's best airport. We didn't see everything, but I can say it is certainly very impressive with tennis courts, spa, swimming pool and countless restaurants and shopping. It is also a very impressive structure resembing a giant, but architecturally eyecatching aircraft hanger. Dinner before the flight was a goodbye to Korea with our last Korean dish being of the noodly ricey kind.
The flight was pretty good, nothing so different about flying on a domestic chinese flight than flying on a domestic US or European flight....oh, except they do actually feed you, they feed you a real meal, a meal which is satisfying and relatively tasty. Perhaps most surprising about the tasty part was that it was on a 90 minute flight. The service was excellent, the english from the flight attendants was also very good, easy to understand.
Landing at Shanghai airport to a 4 1/2 hour layover gave us enough time to check the place out thoroughly. I've got to say, we were very impressed again. A modern engineering marvel with an enormous suspended ceiling, again similarities to an aircraft hanger, but this time the effect of the elaborate strut and cable arrangement gave for a dramatic effect.


The facilities were also first rate with high end shopping available and a variety of restaurants. What was perhaps most surprising though was the cost. If we thought Japan was pricey then Shanghai Airport was a showcase of wealth. The restaurant we ate in was not bad, but at $90 a bit of a surprise given the simplicity of the meal. Don't order the nachos - a few tortilla chips with a small teaspoon sized amount of salsa - and that's it for $12.


Another measure of the cost index is the price of a single malt. When passing through Japan's duty free we were looking at roughly UK duty free prices, when passing through Korea's duty free we were looking at about 2/3rds of the UK price, when passing through US duty free you're looking at parity with the UK and when passing through Shanghai, duty free would about double to triple that of UK and US duty free goods. One thing that was remarkable though was the variety, both at Incheon and Shanghai. There were whiskies there that I have never seen, never knew existed, and represented the absolute cream of Scotch available. 50 year old's, exclusive blends, single malts that were of peculiar years or finishes. I was in heaven with a rather significant dash of purgatory (not enough money to buy and no way to send home to the collection).


The next portion of the flight over to Hanoi was a bit trickier. It was slated to be about 3.5 hours, food was not as good (I'm curious if this was because it had been prepared in China, not Korea), but the service was still a good few notches above that which the US tolerates. The flight itself was bumpy and due to a lightening storm between us and Hanoi we were forced to make a stop in Nanning in southern China. As a result of the time (2am) we were unable to disembark due to no staff in the terminal so Rin and I settled down for a snooze on the plane. The seat arms didn't raise so a spot on the floor was the next best option.

Around 4am we got the all clear to head off again. The short hop was only 30 minutes in the air and the landing was bumpy to say the least. What happened next was nothing short of painful. It appears that Hanoi airport had shut down for the night and we landed without anyone in the terminal knowing. Because of that we were stopped as we walked through. About 60 very tired, frustrated passengers being held at bay by one little Vietnamese lad with a radio. We were stalled without facilities or knowing what was goinig on for about 25 minutes. Interestingly, when we were allowed to pass about 6 gates opened up....really, one would have done a little earlier. Still, thankful to get through immigration and thankful for the visa's we'd applied for ahead of time it was time to figure out how to get to our hotel. (interestingly a bunch of other westerners did not have visa's and it looked like it was going to be tricky getting them at the airport given the frustrated gesticulations they were giving at the visa area and the very early start).

Getting to the airport proved a little fraught also, but the dollar shouted, so despite obtaining about 2,000,000 Dong at the airport ATM we bought our way into a taxi (kicking another customer out) for $20.....best $20 I've spent I'd say. The drive to the hotel was pretty hair raising. We were experiencing first hand the Vietnamese driving habit. The closest I can do is to say utter chaos in a self preserving way. If you are bigger, you have priority.
The taxi driver hoped out just before the tolls started and despite the quick flash through our minds of a hold up situation it was clear he just needed to go. On the drive the taxi weaved and beeped it's way past literally hundreds of motorbikes and mopeds, all with different cargoes, everything from hunks of freshly butchered cow and water buffalo to freshly cut, neatly stacked flowers and boxes of vegetables. The horn was used gratuitously, in part to say get out of the way, in part to alert sleepy eyed moped drivers that a $20 fare was coming through. The roads were not bad either, two laned for most of the way and relatively free from potholes. Certainly a step up from Bostonian and New York road surfaces though signing, lighting and any form of observed road rules were completely absent. Another example of this was a large HGV parked up in the breakdown lane, tarpaulin and hammock out it was either broken down or the driver decided a quick nap would be appropriate. What impressed Rin and I the most was not the crazy driving but how there were not more accidents. Despite the complete lack of observable rules, the Vietnamese are not without their road etiquette. I mentioned before about the "I am bigger than you" approach to road vehicles. But perhaps more understandably is that there is very little that can be done if there is an accident. In the west, if you have an accident where you can prove someone else at fault, an insurance company pays out and you get a repair. In Vietnam, not so. I'm not suggesting drivers and motorbike rides don't have insurance (they can't, there is no system for it) but the protection of personal property lends itself very carefully to the adversity of crashing into each other. It is also rare that an incident would involve calling plod. The way to sort out your differences in Vietnam is tete a tete and sometimes hand to hand combat.