myrainasia

Over a month since my last post. Now in Malaysia with my friend Carlos. It’s pouring out and Carlos is looking at the fishies in the aquarium which I will skip. The nice young man in this internet place is clearing the virus from my memory card so that I can continue uploading my pictures and I am trying to figure out how I am possibly going to catch up on 10 cities in China, Bangkok Part II, 4 islands in southern Thailand and my entry into Malaysia.

There are a number of reasons why things slowed down remarkably in China. I think the main problem is that I was a bit concerned about blogging my true opinions of China, yet I find it hard to blog a sanitized version of events. When I sit down to write, I want to write it all, the good and the bad. China had a whole heck of a lot of both. Another problem- I have been busy playing on Facebook. Not as busy as some of my friends who seem to be on Facebook more than one might imagine, but still- it’s a fun toy! Third problem- Lori and Eric came to visit and a few days after they left Carlos showed up- so I have no shortage of people to speak to at the moment. I blog more when I am starved for conversation and tired of talking to myself.

Really sorry to be missing most of the Olympics. Would have loved to see it in the U.S. with all of the puff pieces showing people and places in China, so I could sit there and say “I was there! and there! and saw that!” I have caught some of the actual sporting events although I missed almost all of the gymnastics and the Phelps phenom. I have seen more boxing than ever in my life because I have been watching from Thailand and one of the best stations was Indian. And I have not heard The Star Spangled Banner once! Oh well, there’s always DVD.

But back to the missing travels. I am thrilled that I got to see so much of China, but I do have to admit that it was the hardest place to travel of all of the places I have been. The biggest problem, as predicted, was the lack of English. For the most part this was not a terrible problem in the big cities such as Shanghai, Beijing and Xi’an. But it was a really big problem in some of the smaller cities that do not see that many foreign tourists. (It is necessary to specify “foreign” tourists, because the Chinese are definitely on the move and are touring their country in droves!) When I say there was a lack of English, this does not refer to a lack of scintillating conversation. This means problems getting food, problems getting a room, and big problems getting out of one town and into another. Eating for example. Some restaurants had English menus but figuring out the Chinglish was another matter entirely. Some places had pictures- I could pick out a whole fish and broccoli, but the finer points of the cuisine are not necessarily obvious. In some restaurants the staff would debate who spoke the best English and then send me out some young guy who would point at an item on the menu and proudly announce “pig” or “chicken”. Impossible to be annoyed with the group efforts displayed to achieve this minimal understanding. When absolutely no English could be found I would simply stroll around the restaurant staring at what other people were eating and trying not to be too obvious about it, and then finally bringing over a waitperson and pointing. Regrettably I am not 10 pounds lighter and managed to stay well fed even if I cannot say I sampled real Chinese food in great depth. However, anyone who suggests eating at a Chinese restaurant when I get home, does so at his or her own peril.

Then there was the transportation issue. There is no such thing as a travel agency in China. There are places that sell plane tickets and each city has a place that sells train tickets in addition to being able to buy them at the train station. And many of the big cities have offices where you can buy packaged tours for the famous sights in that city. But there is no place that you can go and say “Tomorrow I’d like to go …. Should I take a train? Bus? What time is the train? How long does it take to get there? …….” So I would have to find someone at my hotel who understood enough English to write in Chinese (for the taxi driver) “Take me to the bus station”. Then I would have to find someone at the bus station who understood me when I said the name of the city I wanted to get to. (You would be amazed at the amount of things the Chinese don’t understand when said my a non-Chinese speaker. Except for some of the really big cities, like Beijing or Shanghai, most people did not understand me when I said anything, even if I was trying my very very best to say it in Chinese.) Since this usually met with a blank stare I would have to pull out my Lonely Planet and point to the name of the city in Chinese. Then I would pray that the next bus was leaving within the next couple of hours, because once the ticket seller understood where I wanted to go, the only thing I was going to get was a ticket for the next bus going there, whether this was in 5 minutes or 5 hours. There was no way to try and take an alternate route- way too much information involved for that. And then, for the final amusement, I had to find my bus. Since there were no English signs in the station I would have to take my ticket and go from bus to bus until I arrived at the correct one. In a few stations there were hostesses of some sort who would escort me from the ticket window to the correct location and that was always helpful. Finding a bathroom to use before boarding was always successful although miming this request was often a bit embarrassing. (I prefer to mime washing my hands to taking a pee- luckily both get you to the same place.)

I could go on and on with these inconveniences but will stop here. What was more upsetting to me over time, was the attitude of the people to the non-Chinese speakers. I always thought I could make myself understood no matter what. Unfortunately, most Chinese people will not make an effort unless they understand a little bit of English, and are willing to use it. More often efforts are met with a shrug and people turn or walk away. When this would happen in places where I was trying to get service- such as my hotel, or a store or restaurant, I would really lose it and start yelling in English which, of course, no one understood. I guarantee not a soul understood “What am I, chopped liver?” but they definitely caught my tone of voice.

Lest people think I did not have a good time in China, I have to say that many of the people were really lovely and the sights were definitely amazing. I have 26 sets of pictures from China, more than anywhere else I have been, and I, personally, think they are all stunning. The Terracotta Warriors in Xi’an were fantastic. So were the Longmen Caves outside of Luoyang. I stopped in Heifeng because Lonely Planet explained that there had once been a Jewish population there- Jews who had settled there after traveling on the Silk Route- and there were supposed to be some Jewish stellae in the museum- but the museum people, once they finally understood (I think) what I was talking about, said this was no longer in the museum. So Heifeng was nothing much for me, although I did get my hair cut and everybody in the place was very excited to have a westerner there. Qufu was interesting for the home of Confucius but zip on the English. I really liked Qingdao and probably would have liked it even more if I drank (Tsingtao) beer. It once had a large German population and the old part of the new city has some really beautiful buildings. The beaches were amazing- more for the number of people on the beach than anything else. The new part of the city was in the midst of Olympic preparation- Qingdao hosted the sailing events.

That brings me to Beijing where I stayed for 9 days. I could blog for hours about Beijing. But not today. I’m pretty sure this is not my best entry, but it’s a start at catching up.

Promised to keep up to date in China and have fallen behind, yet again.  The good news is I was able to change my ticket (kudos to Eugenia at Airtreks- my round-the-world ticket brokers) and extend China for two additional weeks, so this took some of the pressure off my travels here.  But pressures there are many.  China is not an easy place in which to travel.  This is mostly due to the minimal English spoken here.  It is one thing not to be able to hold a conversation; it is quite another not to be able to figure out how to get somewhere because no one can give you any information and all efforts to pronounce the place you want to go are met with a shrug.  This is not to say that all of my encounters have been negative.  Sometimes people do the sweetest things and, for a moment, you forget how pissed off you were 5 minutes ago.  Like the guy who was going to walk me back to my hotel in Tangkou because it was after 10 pm and, apparently all of the taxis stop working before 10 pm.  Unfortunately I didn’t know the name of my hotel (definitely my fault for not having someone write it down for me in Chinese), and even though I knew where it was I could not communicate it.  I knew it was only about 5 minutes from the center of town; the problem was that it was a rather deserted 5 minute walk and  I was not ecstatic about doing it by myself.  Luckily, a taxi driver came by and, after another 10 minutes of negotiations (conducted by my new friend) he agreed to take me, and I paid him 20 yuan (about $3- or 3 times what the trip was worth) to drive me around the corner.  The plot thickened when I arrived at the hotel and found the door locked and chained. (Locking the door at night is not uncommon in Asia- chaining it up is.)  After yelling a bit, I managed to wiggle under the lock and between the doors at which point someone came down the stairs.  Next day they wanted me to pay for the broken door.  I knew better than to take a hotel room that’s not in the center of town, but it was right next to the bus station and they pounced on me when I got there.  One interesting thing I have learned in China- everyone speaks English when you arrive and before they have your money; afterwards, not a word. 

Ah,  but I digress.  This was to be the Yangtze River story.  I traveled on the President 6- Yangtze Paradise.  Against my desire I was on a Chinese ship.  But it was wonderful.  Also started out with a couple of glitches.  As I was being shown to my room I commented about how happy I was to have my own room.  The response was that I didn’t.  Hissy fit #1- especially since the woman who had booked it had gone through hoops getting me my own room at a negotiated price.  I showed them that my ticket was definitely for more than 1 bed in a double room, and after a bit I was shown to my room without a balcony.  That I was okay with- the absence of a refrigerator was what pissed me off.  At approximately $450 for 3 nights I really wanted a refrigerator.  The next morning I renewed my nudging and ultimately, paid an additional $10 for an upgrade to a lovely room on the next floor up with a large double bed, refrigerator and balcony.  Talk about your happy camper!

The food was really very good and plentiful.  The dining room had all round tables which seated 10.  I would estimate there were about 150 guests- about 50% Chinese, 30% a German tour group, and 20% assorted others with a fair sprinkling of Americans.  There were 2 tables of what were the assorted others and I ended up with a lovely young Swedish couple (who had won the trip based on a business plan they had submitted at their university), 3 Poles (2 men who were colleagues at a university in Poland, and the wife of one of them- 1 man spoke English fairly well and the wife of the other made charming efforts),  2 older German speaking Swiss men who did not join in the conversations much at all, and 1 British woman- Jennie (who I liked very much but who gave me an invalid e-mail address- if you read this Jennie, write!)  The other assorted-other table was all English speaking but it seemed rude to try and switch tables.  I enjoyed hanging out with Nolan (who managed to make it into many of my pictures for those of you who actually look) as well as with Connie and her daughter Cecilia.  Cecilia was lovely and I liked Connie a lot as well until she dissed me at the airport.  The English speaking group rounded out with 2 fascinating guys from Hawaii and the daughter of one of them, and a South African couple who swept up the dance floor.  The Germans pretty much kept to themselves and the Chinese did not speak a word of English and did a lot of hawking and spitting.

The Three Gorges were magnificent.  Much discussion was had about how much the water has risen since the dam was built and how much it will still rise before it reaches its final level.  Our guide at the actual dam (which was huge and very impressive and which would have been a lot more impressive if the day had been less hazy) told us about the wonderful relocations that were done to the million or so whose homes disappeared, but the westerners among us did a lot of wondering- like what about the cemeteries- since we all know that Chinese people are reverential to their departed ancestors.  Lots more questions, but none of us really dared to ask them.

Oh, back to the food for a moment- I was getting there before I digressed to the people.  The center of the table had a rotating platter and all of the dishes were served “family style” in large bowls placed on this platter.  Every meal had a batch of appetizers (which I often managed to miss) followed by a soup, 3 or 4 main courses, 3 or 4 vegetable platters, and, of course, all the rice you could eat.  Then a little dessert and fruit.  Most of the food was quite good and nobody ever went to bed hungry!

The cruise officially started after dinner hours the first night.  The second night was the captain’s welcome banquet and the third and last night was the captain’s farewell banquet.  Wonder what they do on a 4 night cruise.

Evening entertainment was sweet if not brilliant- cruise-like, not Vegas-like.  All of the staff went out of their ways to be helpful.  Seems the Chinese cruise ships have discovered tipping (the envelope with excellent English instructions that was placed in our rooms the last night perfectly resembled tipping suggestions back home- why nothing else does is an interesting question) and I think most of us (can’t speak for the Chinese group) obliged.

There were a few covered shore excursions and I paid for the one extra that was offered although missing it would not have been a tremendous loss except for the cutest tour guide I have had to date.  (Her English name- all of the Chinese that work with foreigners take English names- was Betty and I dubbed her Betty Boop.  She was a teensy little thing with a big smile, good English, and an adorable attitude and I wanted to tuck her under my arm and take her back to the boat.  When she overheard me talking about her, I explained what I had said (not in so many words) which caused her to break into that very Asian giggle and caused one of the other tourists to wonder if I had put her out of commission.) 

One of the other excursions involved taking another boat to an even smaller boat in order to have a little cruise down a side river.  This boat was propelled by 2 guys using oars and 1 guy giving directions.  This was all well and good until we got to the point where the water was too shallow to oar and they showed us how the guys pulled the boats around.  At this point we all felt like pampered rich people watching the slaves at work and most of us wanted to get out of the boat to lighten the load.  Very weird tourist attraction.  Our guide for this excursion was another lovely woman (who looked about 25 but was probably closer to 50) who sang for us on the trip back.  She had a lovely voice so I tipped her at the end even though I did not buy her book or DVD.

I stayed up the last night to watch us pass through 2 of the 3 locks (there are 4 but the last will not be used until the water reaches its final level) although you would think I have seen enough locks after the 17 or so we passed on my Russia cruise last summer (feels like it was about 10 years ago as opposed to last summer).  The last morning we got the tour of the Three Gorges Dam.  A good time was had by all.

Great cruise- worth the splurge.

Now I’m in Xi’an and tomorrow I go to see the terracotta warriors.  Thus, off to bed- which I had planned to do 2 hours ago.  Now I just owe Shanghai, Hangzhou, Huang Shan, and Hefei.  And I am storing up a batch of unrelated Chinese thoughts that I need to share when I have more time.

Stay tuned. 

Back at the internet because I am trying to change my flight out of China.  Unfortunately, Egyptair has yet to respond to my inquiry and they don’t have an office in Shanghai.  They do have an office in Beijing, but if I wait until I get to Beijing it won’t be worth making the change.

So I have some time to finish Yangshuo and the Yangtze River cruise.

Yangshuo was just as charming as promise.  It’s a complete tourist town- well, at least a large chunk of it is.  These artificial tourist towns or tourist enclaves (Vang Vieng in Cambodia, Nha Trang in Vietnam and Kho San Road in Bangkok spring to mind) have their pluses and minuses.  On the minus side, the “real” traveler knows this is an artificial set up that doesn’t or shouldn’t qualify as seeing the world.  On the plus side, they feel soooo comfortable.   People speak at least some English, the menus offer western food, often in language that actually lets you know in advance what you will be eating (BTW- pizza is a word that never gets mangled, although the options for what you can have on your pizza vary widely), and you meet oodles of other travelers with whom you can swap travel info and companionship.

Yangshuo is a tourist town, albeit one with Chinese tourists as well as Western ones,  nestled in this gorgeous physical setting.  There is a tourist office/travel agent on every corner offering various and sundry tours around the area.  I found a charming travel agent and made my first booking- a ticket to the Impressions show that is performed every night in Yangshuo (and employs at least half the town).  It was created and directed by Yang Zhimou, the famous Chinese film director.  It is performed on a small lagoon (seats are on land) and consists of various different scenes, most but not all involving small boats of some sort.  Best I can describe is Cirque de Soleil on water with less acrobatics,  more singing, and important lighting.  (You can see my photos of this and I think at least one of the videos actually uploaded.)  Very trippy and I enjoyed it immensely.  I also really enjoyed getting into an air-conditioned minivan for the 5 minute ride back into town.

The next day I took the full day tour to the terraced rice fields at Longsheng.  Lots of climbing up steps but totally worth it.  (Again, see the photos.)  Until the rain started during lunch.  The rain stopped after lunch which initially seemed like a stroke of good luck.  Ultimately  it turned out that the skies were just taking a breather between an easygoing Round 1 and the much more impressive Round 2 which hit after lunch as we were nearing the top of the mountains.  I, in my wisdom, declined the purchase of an umbrella (mine was comfortably sitting in our minibus at the foot of the mountain) or poncho, thinking that the rain would not last long.  Shmuck!  By the time I realized that I really should have bought an umbrella or poncho I was soaked to the bone and decided that, having reached 100% saturation, there was no point in buying either now.  Little did I realize that my plastic-seeming tote bag (purchased quickly in Hong Kong when my leather tote from home gave up the ghost) was completely un-waterproof.  I stuck a plastic bag over my head, which amused the locals greatly (or maybe it was the fact that I looked like I was entering a wet T shirt contest), and pretty much swam down the 8000 or 9000 steps, through torrents of muddy water,  to our pick up point below.  At least my $2 tire-soled Thai flip flops provided good traction and held up well.  This was the first time in my Asian travels that I asked the driver to please turn off the A/C.  When I got back to my hotel  (and, by the way, the rain had missed Yangshuo which was about 3 hours away) I had to blow dry everything.  This included a page by page effort on my passport which I essentially melted.  (Those blue covers are not nearly as hardy as they look!) 

Could have spent a lot more time exploring the sights around Yangshuo, but time was (and is) of the essence so, the next day I flew to Chongqing to organize my Yangtze River cruise.  Had pre-booked my hotel and was really happy with my choice.  The #1 most comfortable bed I have had in Asia.  You could even bounce on the bed without breaking every bone in your lower back.  Breakfast was included but it turned out to be Chinese breakfast only.  No coffee and foods that look more appropriate to me as dinner options. 

Chongqing is yet another enormous Chinese city with a population in the multi millions.  More huge skyscrapers, lots more neon, and apparently a whole lot of money because every name brand I could think of was well represented (Gucci, Prada, Rolex,……)  And there was coffee once I got into the center of town (although paying Starbucks prices for instant coffee with coffee creamer is still hard to accept even if necessary for an addict like myself).  Didn’t really see Chongqing because I was busy trying to get a cruise ticket.  Started off at the port which was a block away from my hotel.  There are a hundred little travel agents selling the Yangtze cruises, almost none of whom speak English.  The one that did informed me that he only took cash.  Since the cruise costs at least $400 to $500 for 3 nights (and, once again, it seems everything is negotiable), and the ATMs will not disperse that much money in one day, this did not seem very doable.

I left the travel agent and took off for the Inter Continental hotel which, I figured, had to have a booking office with an agent who spoke English.  It did and Yu Din (my spelling) spent the better part of a morning practicing her English with infinite patience and good will and we got it all done.  Unfortunately, my departure choices were 9 pm that evening (I had prebooked 2 nights in Chongqing and had hoped to see at least a little of the city) or Sunday morning (which meant booking a third night in Chongqing).  I opted to lose the $23 and take off.  Yu Din also booked my flight from Yichang (the cruise terminus) to Shanghai.  I wanted to fly to Xi’an, which was a whole lot closer to Yichang, but there were no flights.  Since flying domestically here is quite reasonable, I decided to hit Xi’an after Shanghai.  And then I went to scurry around Chongqing for the rest of the afternoon and prior to my 7 pm pick up.

I am now, apparently, blogging with a vengeance.  I am going to quit here since I did not see anything I wanted to see yesterday in Shanghai and the Yangtze River will just have to wait.

Okay, that title doesn’t really mean anything, but cheers to those who understand the reference.

Blogging today from Shanghai.  I arrived last night on a flight from Yichang.  Yichang is the main disembarkation point for Yangtze River cruises and I had a fabulous time on the President 6- Yangtze Paradise- 3 nights and 2 days, starting in Chongqing (another amusing stroll down memory lane when thinking of the canned Chinese food we used to eat which I think was called called Chungking express- oops that was a major diversion).

This was my third flight in China.  I had originally planned to spend 3 months in China, but got sidetracked in SE Asia and finally made it into China with only 3 plus weeks left before my prebooked July 16 flight back to Bangkok (which I am now trying to change).  This was a big mistake because China is huge! and has enough interesting tourist sites to fill up 3 months easy.  I am down to the bare minimum of stops and flying around to save time.  This does not necessarily work because most flights seem to be delayed for reasons unexplained to the flying public.  (I am sure they don’t provide an explanation in English, but from the looks of my fellow passengers, I am reasonably sure no explanation is given in Chinese either.)  My flight yesterday took off on time (although some of my fellow cruise passengers, whose flights were scheduled to leave earlier than mine, were still waiting for news on their flights at the time I boarded).  However, we were scheduled to fly into Pudong Airport and 10 minutes before landing they announced (in Chinese only) that we would be landing in Hongqiao instead.  (I learned this when everybody started groaning and the kind woman next to me translated.)  This was of no moment to me, and perhaps was a bit better for me because it is closer to the center of the city, but it was pretty bad news for much of the plane.  E.g., the kind woman next to me whose car was at Pudong.  Or the French expats who had a connecting flight to catch and 2 babies in tow.  Or the British tourists whose guide was going to be standing forlornly with his sign and scheduled transport at Pudong.  But we were on time!

So now, as has become my norm, I must back up.

I arrived in the vicinity of China by flying from Hanoi to Macau via Bangkok.  If you look at a map, you will see that Bangkok is not on the way to Macau.  But the flights on Air Asia worked out cheaper than Vietnam Airlines’ direct flight.  What I didn’t take into account when booking was that Air Asia is a point to point airline and you can’t check in as a through flight.  This meant that I had to clear immigration in Thailand (the Thai immigration officer was unhappy that I had left blank the line requesting your address in Thailand.  I told her that my only address was the airport because I had a connecting flight in less than an hour), get my luggage, check in for the second flight and go through security- all in about 90 minutes, assuming my first flight was on time.  (Probably not great planning.)  But the Air Asia staff was fantastic once I explained the problem on the plane.  They got my luggage pulled off the plane the moment we landed, had a little airport buggy waiting for me as I was the first passenger escorted off the plane, and had my second boarding pass waiting for me as I flew through the airport (Bangkok airport is a small city and I was wheeling as fast as my flip flops would let me).  Clearing immigration was a breeze as I was the only person on line when I arrived.  I made my flight with a good minute to spare.  Thank you Air Asia.

Macau is charming.  The tourist section is the old Portuguese section with lots of beautiful old buildings and pretty churches.  Then there is the business section of tall buildings followed by the numerous casinos.  In the midst of all this is a whole lot of good food and thousands of shops selling tourist crap, Portuguese pastries, dried meat (this stuff was actually delicious- every shop offers tastes and I could have made a meal of this- would have bought some too, but their minimum sale was 1/2 kilo and I didn’t want to tote around a pound of dried meat) and every thing else you can think of.

Saw all the tourist sights and hit all the casinos.  Enjoyed both and gave my donation to the Macau economy.  Would probably have spent more but, shockingly, the Macau casinos will not cash US travelers checks.

After I reached my personal limit I caught the ferry to Hong Kong.  I arrived in the early evening so I caught the Hong Kong light show upon arrival.  (Actually there really is a Hong Kong light show which I never did see because of the weather.)  My jaw was dropping the entire last 15 minutes of the ferry ride.  Think of what downtown Manhattan looks like, in terms of skyscrapers, and then multiply by 10 or 20.  Add more neon than you can possibly imagine and that’s Hong Kong.  I felt like a total country bumpkin and kept saying “Wow, so many tall buildings!”

The weather upon arrival was not great.  I took the cable car up to the top of Victoria Peak on my first day and saw- white.  Nothing else.  I went back two days later and saw everything- it deserves its reputation.  The entry to the cable car is across the street from the US Consulate where I also made a stop- had to add pages to my passport- that was a first for me.  Word of advice to any readers- the last few pages of your passport are for amendments and advisories (whatever that means) and you need to have enough blank pages in the main section- for arrivals, departures, and visas, or you will have a problem.  I learned this from a fellow traveler who learned this the hard way.

Hong Kong is pretty amazing.  Didn’t see half the things I would have liked to see, but I got good at ferrying back and forth between Hong Kong and Kowloon- the two main islands.  You can cover most of the Hong Kong side without ever going outside.  There are covered pedestrian walkways (skyways is a better word) which allow you to traverse a lot of territory in the area by the water.  Then there are covered outdoor escalators which make it a lot easier to go up and down- since Hong Kong rises pretty vertically from the water to the hills.

Hong Kong is extremely western and you can get anything you want including the Reuben sandwich I ate one night in a restaurant that also sold matzoh ball soup (I have the picture to prove it) and bagels and lox with a shmear.  Of course you can also buy birds nests, herbal remedies, and the usual inedible (to me) edibles.

Then I took the train to Guangzhou.  Another exceedingly large city with a lot of tall buildings and a lot of neon- but no English.  I booked my hotel at the train station and took the taxi they supplied.  My hotel was right by the river and I had an excellent view.   My favorite spot in Guangzhou was Shamian Island- a small island not far from my hotel which used to be owned by the French and British.  Lots of cute old buildings and lots of cute brides and grooms taking their wedding photos in front of the cute buildings.

At this point I realized that I was going to have to hot foot it through China if I wanted to see portion of the 10 or 15 cities I had circled as possibilities on my map.  So I booked a flight to Guilin, a not so easy process at the travel desk in my hotel, since the woman who worked there did not speak much English, but we succeeded eventually.  The flight was an evening flight so I spent the next day seeing all of the tourist sights in Guangzhou- which involved about at least 4 miles of walking- there are subways in Guangzhou, but none of the subway stops seemed to help much for where I wanted to go.  Made it back to the hotel in time to catch a taxi to the airport bus and then to the airport.

Arrived in Guilin around 10:30 after a delayed flight and booked a hotel at the airport.  The hotel I picked (not the one the agent at the hotel wanted) was in Lonely Planet and was one of my biggest mistakes to date, but I didn’t have much choice (or energy) at 11:30.  I agreed to the fifth room I was shown (the first 4 were disasters) and tried to tip the really sweet young man who patiently escorted me from room to room (I will not detail my mood at this point but, trust me, when I say he was patient, I really mean it), but he would not accept it.  I also thought the hotel was a brothel, based upon the for-sale condom selection in the room, but I have subsequently seen that these are offered in every hotel room.  I guess this is one of China’s ways of combating AIDS and is probably not a bad idea- just a bit offputting if you are not expecting this.  When I finally settled in I actually slept quite well, but I nonetheless checked out the next day to find an upgrade.

Spent too much of the next day online (like today, it appears) trying to find a new room and trying to figure out where I was going from Guilin.  The big thing to do is take a boat cruise to Yangshuo, for the scenery along the way.  This can be done in a day, but I had heard that Yangshuo was even better than Guilin.  Found a wonderful new hotel about a block away and then booked my cruise.  (One of the sights on the cruise is a view of the mountains that is on the back of the 20 yuan note; the back of the 10 yuan note is a scene that you catch on the Yangtse River so I now have two of the notes down.)

Then off for a sightseeing walk around Guilin.  Was having a wonderful old time marching around- there are 2 lakes in town and it’s really beautiful- until I got run down by a bicycle (actually a rather large 3-wheeled bike to which is attached a large trailer-like thing).  The driver had ridden down a flight of 4 steps and onto the pedestrian path around the lake.  The result of this accident was not pleasant, but I am not going to explain further here since I do not want to have to leave China earlier than planned.  I ended up with a couple of skinned knees which are healing nicely, but I was shook up and happy to leave Guilin the next day.

I have got to quit here because my neck is killing me and I would like to see a little of Shanghai today.  Yangshuo and Yangtze cruise to follow.

It has been pointed out to me recently that I don’t say very much about food in my blog.  Upon further reflection I just realized, to my great chagrin, that I am not and never will be a real foodie.  Someone once said to me (in my fat youth) that some people eat to live and others live to eat, and that I was in the latter category.  While I may have spent my early days overeating, I think I fall in the category of people who eat to live, or at the very least, somewhere between the two.  Finding fabulous food is just not a priority.

Pity, because I have heard that there is some really amazing food in SE Asia.  Alas, I am probably not the person to ask about this.  To really appreciate the range and quality of food, one must have a brave palate.  Alas again, my palate is a coward.  The list of local specialties I have not tried is significantly greater than the list of foods I have tried.  In fact, in Macau the first night, I spent too much time in one of the casinos.  At about midnight I realized I really should get some dinner and then go to sleep.  Amazingly the casino did not have any restaurants or food options (at least I think they didn’t based upon the limited English spoken in that particular casino).  I felt sure I would find something to eat on the way back to my hotel which was a 5 minute walk at best.  My hotel was not in the real touristy section of Macau and the first restaurant I went into had people eating so it looked promising.  They even had a menu in English.  Unfortunately, there was not a single thing on the menu that I was even willing to attempt.  I cannot possibly list the foods I rejected but they included multiple options involving fish heads and I didn’t recognize the names of most of the fish listed.  The meat selection included animals I knew but talked about body parts and organs that could only be identified following completion of veterinary school.  So I left and found a shop that sold noodle soup.  I think mine had minced pork.

Noodle soup, and every other possible permutation of noodle, is my mainstay of eating.  I’m not really a pasta person but I’m even less of a rice person, and those are the staples of every meal here.  I’ve pretty much eliminated chicken (unless it’s KFC- ubiquitous in Asia- or a very western style restaurant) because I don’t like dark meat.  I’ve tried to get white meat by miming- pointing at my breast would seem obvious, no?  But apparently they don’t cut chicken the way we do at home, i.e. legs, thighs, wings, breast.  In Asia they seem to just slice from head to foot.  And, by the way, most chicken dishes here come with head and foot.  In fact, I’ve seen so many chicken feet in restaurants and food stalls that I’m not sure what they do with the rest of the chicken.  And I am not eating any chicken with the head still on- cooked or not.

Pork and beef are my main options, but I try to avoid those selections that tell you precisely where the meat is coming from on the animal.  Pig tendon may taste fine but it sounds gross to me.  Actually I’ve been eating a lot of sausage because then I don’t have to know where the meat came from.  (Theoretically it could be even more disgusting, but this is one area where I’m working on the theory of don’t ask, don’t tell.)

I always thought I loved seafood but that love has been challenged here.  Shrimp, one of my favorite dishes, is too much work.  I learned how to knock their heads off and peel away the shells starting with their little feet when I traveled through Europe.  But when they serve whole shrimp in a cooked dish it gets very messy- first you have to suck off the sauce and then you get to start the peeling process.  When I go to have dinner I just want to eat- without all the work.  As for your more basic fish, most of it is served whole.  While I can handle eating a whole fish, this is something that also falls under the category of work.  And in China, fish heads seem to be more popular than anything else, and this is not an option for me.

While on this topic I should point out that I have refused to try dog (frankly I haven’t seen this on any menus although I know it’s available and one Australian expat was telling me about the specialty where they serve dog paw with a straw inserted to enable you to suck out the bone marrow), snake, and each and every fried crispy critter that one could imagine.

Last word on the topic of food has to do with Chenglish.  While I thought Turkey and Greece took the prize on butchering English (and I’ll never forget the “fried Jews” that was an option in Extremadura, Spain), China wins this one hands down.  Up until now in my travels I have been able to figure out what most things on the menu were, notwithstanding the confused and usually amusing translations.  Here I have just given up.  Unfortunately I don’t have any examples on me at the moment but I will try to save a few for future reporting.

I’m ashamed to say it but I am now actively searching out McDonalds and other western chains.

Bon appetit to all!

I went on a blogging hiatus because it felt like everyone, except my most loyal readers, had lost interest.  Regrettably I seem to have lost interest as well.  This is doubly a problem since my diary is still stuck in Bangkok.  I think it is fair to say that my diary is dead whereas there is still hope for the blog.

Flying tomorrow from to Macau, via Bangkok.  Although this is the wrong direction it was the cheapest way to fly.  Actually it wasn’t as cheap as I originally thought once the computer program at Air Asia added on the taxes and service charges.  But by then I was committed to entering China without the hassle of a lengthy train ride.

For those wondering where Macau is and why I’m going there- it’s a special economic zone located next to Hong Kong.  It was once a Portuguese colony but now is again part of China.  It’s also the “Las Vegas of the East”.  If you know me well, you know why I chose Macau.

But back to Vietnam.  Here’s where I went:

1. Phu Quoc- my first stop.  It’s an island that’s below Cambodia (and the Cambodians think it should be theirs) and supposed to be beautiful.  Since it rained pretty much nonstop during the 3 nights and 2 days that I was there, I cannot speak for its beauty.  Most of the hotels and resorts are on an unpaved road.  Think of that with steady rain.  But I met a nice couple (she Vietnamese runner, he half Vietnamese half French ex-soccer player for Vietnam) and had a relaxing few days until I gave up waiting for the rain to stop.  I got to the island by hydrofoil, after doing the overland crossing at Ha Tien, but flew from Phu Quoc to Saigon because I refused to spend another 3 hours listening to people barf.

2. Saigon/Ho Chi Minh City- this was one of those places that I loved, but not everybody does.  Big city, insane traffic.  Did one of my megashops- bought lots of souvenirs and went directly to the post office (without passing Go or collecting $200) and shipped it all home.  Went to the War Remnants Museum and was suitably impressed.  Have noticed that the Vietnam War is considered, at least in Vietnam, as Vietnam against US.  South Vietnam has apparently dropped off the radar.  I guess that makes reunification a bit easier.  Also went to the Cu Chi tunnels which were fascinating but have become touristically hokey.  (I’m having deja vu here- can’t decide if I blogged all this before or just discussed it in various e-mails.  If I blogged it before, forgive the repetition.)  Also visited a batch of pagodas.  The Vietnamese style shows Chinese influence and the pagodas are very different from the wats in Thailand, Cambodia and Laos.  But beautiful.

3. Mui Ne- took the bus to this beach resort town.  One long strip of hotels, resorts, restaurants and other tourist related shops/services.  There is an actual town but not really near the tourist area.  The beach was gorgeous!  The water was a bit too warm for my taste and I don’t go very far out when there are large waves, but it was a great beach for walking and watching the zillion kite surfers.  Went to see one of the large sand dunes, but I really disappointed the young girl trailing me when I refused to rent her plastic sheet for dune sledding.  Also loved my hotel- something I don’t say that often.

4. Dalat- took a minivan because I didn’t like the bus I had taken to Mui Ne.  Amazing how many people you can actually put in a minivan.  And then we broke down.  Par for the course in SE Asia.  But we made it to Dalat and when I stepped out of the minivan and felt the COOL evening air (Dalat is in the mountains) I was in heaven.  Dalat is a beautiful town with a lovely lake (I’ve discovered I’m partial to towns with lakes in the middle) and I had my one and only unairconditioned room of my travels.  (Unairconditioned by choice, that is.)  Dalat is also known as the home of the Easy Riders.  These are basically moto drivers with a fancy title who carry notebooks showing the wonderful things people have said about them.  (I’m thinking they don’t ask for comments from people who were dissatisfied with their tour.)   I reserved the driver who took me from the place where the minivan arrived (which was not in the center of town, but was next to the hotel presumably owned by the same people who owned the minivan) to my hotel.  Two days later I got a bait and switch when a different driver showed up (I guess my first driver got a better offer in the interim) to take me on my day tour of the area around Dalat.  His English was impossible to understand and I would never have booked him for a day tour, but I find that I can’t be mean to these guys who are just trying to make a living.  He also overcharged me at the end of the day, but that was my own fault- I am well aware that all prices must be negotiated in advance.  Still, Dalat was beautiful and I really liked it.

5. Nha Trang – got there by bus from Dalat on the one and only normal bus I’ve taken in Vietnam.  The tourist section of town (western tourist that is, there were loads of Asian tourists in Nha Trang in other sections)  is about 3 square blocks in size and situated right off the beach in the center of town.  It creates this cozy little tourist ghetto that  is almost impossible to leave.  I met these 5 English girls who were beautiful and charming (if you’re reading this Laura, Natalie, Lauren, Helen and Siobhan- how’s that for a description!) and who adopted me as their older and somewhat eccentric but amusing companion.  We met on this tour of the islands around Nha Trang; the tour was pretty crappy but the people on the tour were a lot of fun so it was a good day notwithstanding the fact that you don’t really stop on any islands except one where you have to pay to go onto the island and it wasn’t worth it.   I also spent a fun afternoon at the local mud baths with my new friends.  (Take a look at my photos if you want to see 5 sexy muddy English girls and 1 muddy me.)   I also have to mention Sammira and Miki (American and Austrian) who I met when I first arrived in Nha Trang.  They had met one another a town or two north of Nha Trang (tourists in Vietnam are divided into two groups- those going north to south and those going south to north) and were traveling together for a bit.  They complemented each other perfectly.  Sammira is one of the most friendly, outgoing person I have ever met and she seemed to know everyone in Nha Trang within a day or two (being African American may have made it easier for the Vietnamese to remember her) and Miki was a touch more reserved.  Both were delightful and I split my time in Nha Trang between the two groups of new friends.  Sammira and Miki introduced me to Marinella, an Italian expat who owns a restaurant (Italian, what else?) in Nha Trang.  Marinella was also quite amazing and amusing things always seemed to happen when she was around.  (See the photos of me and the 8 or 9 Brazilian soccer players for example.)  Finally, must say that the beach at Nha Trang was perfect- no waves and the water was a lot cooler than at Mui Ne.  Nha Trang was probably my favorite place in Vietnam.

6. Hoi An- sweated the transportation issue of going to Hoi An from Nha Trang.  Didn’t want to take an overnight bus or train- like 99% of the tourists.  Then discovered that one could fly rather cheaply on Vietnam Airlines which does not post domestic prices online.  So happily flew to Danang (no airport in Hoi An) and shared a taxi into Hoi An.  This is one magnificent town!  It’s an old Chinese port city and much of the old quarter near the river has been preserved.  The entire old quarter is a UNESCO world heritage sight and rightly so.  But the main reason most tourists come to Hoi An is the tailor made clothing industry.  There are about 500 clothing shops in town and it is impossible to leave town without having something made.  Trust me, I tried.  But on my third day there I fell for the siren song of the clothing shops and bought a pair of shorts, a skirt, a sundress and 1 fancy dress.  The hardest part was having fittings in 95 degree weather.  Unbelievably, I think Hoi An was the hottest city I’ve been in in Vietnam.  Took 1 day tour to see My Son (also UNESCO site) which is Cham ruins.  Cham is the civilization that preceded Angkor and I must say that I have seen better pre-Angkor ruins, both in Angkor Wat and Phou Si in Laos.  Of course, the state of the ruins was probably not helped by being bombed during the war.

7. Hue- back on the bus to go to Hue.  Another lovely city but hopping due to my arrival at the start of the Hue Festival which is held once every two years.  There was a big line up of things to see and do, but the brochure which explained this in Vietnamese, French and English, did not really do a good job of explaining and I ended up not going to see anything.  I did walk over to the Citadel for the opening night fireworks (sadly, this was about 3 minutes of action- call Grucci!).  I almost didn’t go because it required walking across a bridge, but I managed to hook up with this lovely couple from Colorado who, in turn, had been picked up by these 3 young Vietnamese teenagers, and we walked to the second bridge which was easier on my bridge phobia.  I saw some western tourists, but mainly the place was swamped with Vietnamese- a good thing, not bad.  All of Hue was on the streets and it was a lot of fun.  (Noteworthy was the fact that these rabid capitalists who try to sell you everything everywhere you go, have not gotten the hang of selling food and drink in large outdoor gatherings.)  Took a day tour on one of the dragon boats.  These take you to the imperial tombs outside the city.  Another lousy tour, but the tombs were fabulous.  To digress, one of the big problems with tours in Vietnam is that everybody is so busy undercutting everybody else that the tours end up being dirt cheap but then they spend the whole tour trying to sell you add ons, presumably to make up for the fact that no one is making any money from the tour itself.  And the poor tourist (OK no one is really feeling sorry for me) ends up feeling hassled and harassed.  A lose lose situation that hopefully will get worked out some day.  Back to Hue- thought about taking a tour to the DMZ but reports from other tourists indicated that you spend the whole day driving on a bus and there is not much to see although if you are old enough to remember the war the names of the places you go to will resonate.  Decided to pass.

8. Hanoi- flew to Hanoi to avoid another overnight deal.  Shared a taxi into town with a lovely Australian couple who are doing a round the world trip.  Finding a hotel was a little trying- there do not appear to be any real set prices on rooms.  Everybody negotiates so you feel you are getting ripped off if you end up paying more than $15.  Went to a few rooms and then settled happily into Rising Dragon which was highly ranked on tripadvisor.  Explored Hanoi for a few days and then took off for a 3 day 2 night trip to Halong Bay and Cat Ba Island.  Not crazy about the boat but Halong Bay is a knockout must see on any trip to Vietnam.  (See 300 pictures; I’m not explaining.  I need to eat and want to finish this.)   Today I saw the Ho Chi Minh Mausoleum.  How could I possibly leave Vietnam without seeing the embalmed Uncle Ho?  But seriously, whatever you think about the Vietnam War and the history here, there is no getting around that he was a pretty amazing man.   Ended up really enjoying Hanoi, after I got used to the traffic.  And I also managed to link up with Dom and Tony, the really cool couple I first met in Chiang Rai and then saw in Phnom Penh.  We are on a totally different route but cross paths on a regular basis.  We had a fun time at quiz night.  Kung Fu Pandas rock!

So, Vietnam in a nutshell.  Next post will be from China.  Hopefully I won’t have to do all of China in one blog post.

Been meaning to talk about traffic for a while now- possibly already have discussed this in brief on other postings, but the traffice in SE Asia, and Vietnam in particular, deserves a more lengthy discussion.

As a New Yorker I walk everywhere.  Accordingly, it is difficult for me to believe that I have taken to planning my excursions in Vietnam based upon how many streets I will have to cross.  I have gotten better at the actual execution (boy is that ever the correct word)  of a street crossing , but I still hate it and can definitively state that I will never get used to it.  Traffic comes from all directions; traffic lights are few and only partly obeyed; the rule is to start crossing and continue going steadily across while letting the whizzing vehicles make their way around you;  vehicles stay within the marked lanes about as well as a 2-year-old stays within the lines in a coloring book; and horns are used incessantly- most often as a way of saying “I’m bigger than you- move over”.  The  order, from right to left is: pedestrians, bicycles, cyclos (that’s the bicycles with passengers), motos, and then, in no particular size order, cars, buses and trucks.  The latter 3 tend to rotate passing depending, I assume, on who’s feeling more macho at the moment.

The traffic report must also include how to get around in SE Asia.  Hard to believe I desperately miss the tuk tuks.  I felt moderately secure on those and less like a sitting duck.  Tuk tuks are not allowed in Vietnam.  (Presumably their size would just make the traffic situation worse.)  This leaves me with the option of taking a taxi (somewhat harder to find and always more expensive), moto or cyclo.  I took a cyclo yesterday for the first time.  Aside from immense feelings of guilt (that some poor schlemiel was pedaling his heart out for a pittance while I sat in comfort) the ride was excellent.  They don’t go that fast (for obvious reasons) but they’re terrific for short sightseeing trips.  And, while our negotiated price was 45,000 dong (about $3) for 1 hour (the negotiations involved my driver quoting this price and me saying OK) the fact that I agreed without haggling indicates that the actual price is probably about 1/3 what I paid.  But I have a personal rule that says I do not negotiate when the price is ridiculously low.  Plus, having just spent $70 to buy a plane ticket from Hue to Hanoi because I refuse to take an overnight bus which probably costs about $6, I felt the need to attone for my spoiled brat ways.

More often I can be found on the back of a motorcycle, something that does not thrill me, but to which I have become quite accustomed.  Vietnam passed a law at the end of 2007 requiring the wearing of helmets.  Apparently, after getting over the affront of having to wear a helmet, the Vietnamese decided to turn their helmets into personal fashion statements.   All moto drivers carry an extra helmet for passengers.  They hand it to you to put on but get a very annoyed look on their faces if you have the affrontery to try and adjust it to actually fit.  You never hold on to your moto driver.  Public touching is not very common in SE Asia, but I have seen a lot more touching on motos in Vietnam than in any other country.  I, however,  pride myself on having learned to ride without needing to hold onto the back with both hands.  The major trick is not to look at the road in front of you, and definitely not to look at traffic.  Even more exciting is the fact that I can do this riding sidesaddle- a requirement for women wearing skirts as I usually do.  I truly amused myself when I crossed the border from Cambodia into Vietnam.  I knew in advance that I would be on a moto- with my 45-lb suitcase- for a lengthy period of time.  Thus, I put on a pair of shorts- a whole new meaning to “dressing for success”.   (I also think there’s a good joke about “backseat driving” here, but I haven’t nailed it so I will let it slide.)

Lastly,  must mention how many people can fit on a motorbike.  My personal best spotting is 6- 1 adult male with 5 children.  3 and 4 is too common for words.  5 is moderately rare.  You won’t see more than 3 adults as a general rule.  Entire families is a pretty common sight.  The other day I heard someone call this a “family sandwich”.  Liked that.

Next blog entry will try to give some update on my travels.  Now I’m off to play in traffic. 

This is still the shorthand version and, believe me, you all missed a lot!

Went from Siem Reap to Battambang where I took my first all day motorbike tour with a really nice guide who told me bits and pieces of his life story throughout the day.  I have to assume he was an ax murderer in a prior life because he has had the worst luck in this life- either that or he was feeding me a line to get a better tip.  But I think he was being truthful.  Got to see my first “killing field” since Battambang, along with most of the larger cities in Cambodia, was wiped out by the Khmer Rouge.  What can one say about the memorials containing hundreds, thousands, of unidentified skeletons?  Disturbing, to say the least.

But not much to see in Battambang, so the next day I took a bus to Kampong Chhnang.  Interesting bus ride inasmuch as the bus broke down midway there and we spent an hour or two trying to find shade under the out-of-season fruit trees lining the road (out-of-season means not much shade) while the driver and helpers crawled around under the bus trying to fix, unsuccessfully,  some undetermined problem.  They finally gave up and I ultimately came to understand- with very little English and some complicated hand signals- that another bus would pick us up.  Here’s where it gets really interesting- the first bus had only a few seats, but I figured that, as the foreigner, people would let me get on.  So I stepped onto the bus, put down my extra tote (where I carry my books, makeup, necessary toiletries, etc.) and mimed to the driver that I was going to get my suitcase.  As I was wheeling my suitcase from the broken bus to the new bus, the new bus took off.  This was not a happy moment for me, especially since the driver of the now-departed bus, along with all of the passengers, had seen me put a bag down.  I was screaming and cursing (hell, no one understood me anyhow) and yelling at driver #1 that my stuff was on the bus that had just left.  He seemed to think this was a regrettable, but unsolvable problem, but I kept yelling and pointing at his cell phone until he started making some calls.  Ultimately another bus came and picked us all up for the continued trip and I was given to understand that the bus which had my bag would be waiting for us.  I had some serious doubts about this, but miracle of miracles, half an hour later, there was the bus and there was my bag, so happy ending for me.

The only thing worth seeing in Kampong Chhnang is the floating village.  But that was incredibly worth seeing.  It was all so picturesque.  And I happened to be there in the afternoon so the light was perfect and even the clouds cooperated.  Photos can be viewed at flickr.com/photos/myranee for those who have forgotten.

Then on to Phnom Penh.  Once again it was one of those places that I loved, but not everybody does.  Big city, lots of traffic, no traffic rules or regulations (at least none that anybody follow).  Did some hotel hopping which I never do, but couldn’t manage to find a place that I liked for the right price.  So I sampled different neighborhoods and that was interesting.  Went to Tuol Sleng Museum(this was a high school that the Khmer Rouge turned into a famous/infamous prison which, I believe, only 7 people survived) and the Killing Fields of Choeung Ek (where they took the dead from Tuol Sleng to dispose of, and executed the ones who were still alive).  At the end of the day somebody asked me if I had had a nice day.  “Nice” was not exactly the operative word.  Can you go to Cambodia and skip witnessing the horrors of the Khmer Rouge?  I don’t think so.  I think we must all bear witness.  Bigger question- will we ever learn from these atrocities?  Doesn’t seem that way.

The most amazing part of it is that so many of the Cambodians today (at least anyone born before 1979) have memories of the Khmer Rouge.  And yet the Cambodians are some of the loveliest, friendliest people I have met.  I took to calling it “The Land of Hello”  because everywhere I went people said hello to me.  Even when they weren’t trying to sell me something or ask for money.  They were just being friendly.  (In a lot of my pictures it looks like people are holding a hand in front of their faces- this is what it looks like when you try to photograph people who are constantly waving hello.)

Also have to talk about my friend Long.  I met Long in Pakse, Laos.  He is Cambodian and went to Laos on vacation.  He was staying in the same hotel as me and we met in the hotel roof top restaurant.  He speaks excellent English for a Cambodian and gamely joined in the dinner table conversation with 3 Americans and an Israeli.  Long has a veterinary degree from a university in Cambodia and is studying for his masters here while working for a company that sells a Thai-manufactured pig feed.  He is also supporting his mother and 3 younger siblings who are all in school.  Long is trying to improve his English and would like to pursue a higher degree in public health.  His interest/goal(?) is to improve public health in Laos by helping to put into place some governmental standards for animal feed and the livestock industry in general.  From what I gathered from Long, there are none at present.  To make a long story short, Long needs help finding a scholarship for a foreign university so that he can pursue his studies and also support his family.  I have no connections in academia, but I am putting this out there to solicit ideas/help.  He’s a smart, motivated guy who will make his own way no matter what, but it would be great to help him.

So, to finish up Cambodia, I went from Phnom Penh to Sihanoukville, which is a beach town.  I had now hit the rainy season (and probably was getting the leftovers from the weather system that devastated Myanmar) and did not feel there was much point in staying in Sihanoukville in the rain.

Off to Kampot, a charming little town on the river.  Most interesting was the day trip which started off in Bokor National Park.  The most interesting aspect of Bokor is the ruins of the French elite who used to live there.  This included the casino which is intact on the outside and a lot of fun to wander through.  Our guide for the day told us about how he had seen his parents killed by the Khmer Rouge at the age of 19, following which he managed to escape into the jungle where he lived, without contact with any other humans, for a year until he was able to discover that the Khmer Rouge had been ousted.  (Just another day in Cambodia when it came to war stories.)

From Kampot to Kep, a pretty town on the beach- although hardly a developed “beach town” like Sihanoukville.  Unfortunately, this being off season, Kep was pretty deserted so it was time to move onto Vietnam.  Next time.

After a month long hiatus (from blogging, not traveling) I think I am ready to start again. This is basically for the 10 faithful followers who have asked me to keep writing.

I write now from Dalat in the Vietnamese interior. At the moment I am obsessing on visa issues. I bought the expensive 3-month multiple entry visa in New Zealand. It is good from March 1 through June 1. Unfortunately, when I got to Thailand I decided to head north instead of east and then continued on a slow tour through Laos and Cambodia. Thus, I didn’t enter Vietnam until May 10. This left me 3 weeks in Vietnam of which I have now used up almost 2 and have not even made it to the center of Vietnam. Supposedly it was easy to get a one month visa extension, but I have discovered that that applies only to the 30-day tourist visa. So now I am working at getting a 2-week extension to my visa. Oops. Either I will have my extension in a few days, or I will be scooting out of Vietnam faster than hoped.

During my “writer’s strike” I spent about three weeks in Cambodia which I loved. Here’s the quick update:

Siem Reap- home of Angkor Wat. Spent 4 days there, 3 at the temples. Take a thesaurus, look up magnificent or unbelievable, and then just apply all of the words and you will have a semi-apt description of Angkor Wat. Also got my first intro to Cambodian traffic which makes being a pedestrian challenging to say the least. Siem Reap is mostly a tourist town which is a bit sad. The temples are managed by the Vietnamese (under a 99-year lease) and I am not sure how much of the money filters down to the Cambodians. There are about a zillion hotels in town, with another million under construction. It is hard to imagine how all of these hotels make money. I am told there are a lot of package tours from Asia. This is even sadder since it means that the tourists fly in on a foreign airline, pay for a foreign-owned hotel, take a tour package to view the ruins and then leave. Cambodia is worth more than a pit stop.

Gotta run- my Easy Rider will be here soon. Will pick this up.

Since no one comments on my blog and e-mails are few and far between (with some notable exceptions who I have already thanked) I am considering suspending this effort and going back to my diary- where I have finally finished writing about Sydney, leaving me a little less than 2 months behind.  Shape up folks or the vicarious journey ends in Laos.

I promised to back up and write about Vientiane.  Unfortunately, when you are traveling, new cities replace prior cities very quickly and a week ago seems like months.  Another similar phenomenon (bit of a non sequitur here) has to do with remembering which new friend told you what about his or her travels.  When you start traveling your brain has enough memory space to hold each new friend and his or her story.  As you go on, this memory space seems to get used up, and while you recognize the people as you bump into them for the second or third time (there is definitely a tourist trail through southeast Asia) you know you remember the face, but it takes a while to sort through the various stories in your head and match the correct face to the correct story. 

So, after this brief detour, back to Vientiane.  I liked it a lot.  I seem to be one of 3 tourists who did.  I keep telling everyone I’m from NYC; I simply like big cities.  OK, “big” is probably an overstatement in connection with Vientiane, but there are different neighborhoods, i.e. the tourist section, the business district, the outskirts.  You can actually take a few hours and walk around.  Well, no, you can’t, because if you walked around for a few hours, at least in April, you would melt into a puddle like the Wicked Witch after Dorothy doused her.  But if it wasn’t 100 degrees out, you could take a few hours.

While there were definitely a lot of tourists in Vientiane, it was also clearly a real city.  Have I mentioned that there is not a single Mickey D’s or Starbucks in Laos?  Tourism is booming in Laos, so that statement will probably be outdated in another few years.  Can’t say I missed McDonalds, but I really could have used  a Starbucks or two.  Laos has a coffee industry and, much as I love Laos, I think the coffee is from hunger.  Aside from the fact that it’s very thick, fresh milk is rarely served with it.  They use condensed milk (in part, I suspect, because it does not need refrigeration to keep) which makes the coffee sickly sweet.  I don’t mind this in the iced coffee (which I drink by the bucket), but it sends shivers up my spine first thing in the morning.

Once again, I digress- back to Vientiane.  Some beautiful and important wats, but I won’t go into them in depth (partly because I have already discussed wats at great length on this blog, and partly because I don’t remember the names of any of them) and an Arch of Triumph which Lonely Planet disses, but I liked.  Also went to the Laos museum.  Much of it was quite fascinating and well laid out (not to mention pretty well signed in English).  The second floor had the modern history of Laos, with different rooms devoted to different periods in Laos history.  They kind of lost me on the Vietnam War era.  While I think the US was utterly wrong about Vietnam (doesn’t the “domino threat of communism” seem rather quaintly misguided today?) the part that irked me was that every time they wrote “U.S.” or “America” it was “imperialist U.S.” or “imperialist America” as if that was the name of the country.   France wreaked a lot of havoc and basically caused the whole mess in the first place, but the signs still said “France”  not “colonialist France” or “imperialist France”.

Another important digression here and that has to do with the land mines we blanketed across much of Laos during the war years, also known as unexploded ordinance (UXOs).  This has made much of the country uninhabitable and much of the very fertile land unarable.  They estimate it will take over a 100 years to remove these mines at the present rate.  Okay, seems to me, we put them there, we really should take them out.  Wow, what if some of the zillions we are spending in Iraq could go to cleaning up our past messes? (Won’t even pretend to guess how long it will take to remove UXOs from Iraq and Afghanistan.)

Back, yet again, to Vientiane.  Should mention that I took a hotel with a pool.  Cost a whopping $30 a night but worth it to me.  Also had an herbal massage.  When they showed me into the massage room and gave me loose shorts and a top I was definitely wondering how they do the massage.  So, first the masseuse beats you up a bit with her hands.  While she is doing this she has a pile of what look like large sachets heating up atop  boiling water.  Then she beats you up with these herbal (basil?) sachets.  Might have that spice wrong (having an olfactory memory lapse here)- but it smelled a little like getting whacked by Vicks Vaporub.  Felt quite nice though.  Have slacked off on the massages.  Too hot to have anyone touching my sweat drenched skin.

This hotel also had a buffet breakfast included.  As noted above, I can’t stand the coffee and I”m fast losing interest in cold eggs and cold bacon and cold sausage.  I don’t understand why they can’t keep the flame going under the chafing dishes- can’t be that expensive.

Really need to mention Buddha Park.  Sort of wild park about an hour outside of Vientiane.  Built by some guy who was definitely sampling the Happy Menus.  (See Vang Vieng entry if you don’t know what that means.)  Lots of large, really cool statues of Buddhas and assorted Hindu gods.  Unfortunately I had to  take a public minivan to get there which was, not suprisingly, extremely overcrowded.  The last 20 minutes was over an unpaved road.  I had not eaten lunch (because I had eaten breakfast),  so I was very hungry when I got there and went to eat.  Then I got up to explore the park and thought I would pass out.  My situation was not helped by the fact that as soon as I started to explore, I was approached by another of the many chatty monks who want to practice their English.  And you really don’t want to dis a chatty monk.  On the other hand, I really did not want to pass out or puke in front of a chatty monk  so I excused myself and went back to the restaurant area.  (Bear in mind that restaurant area is an outdoor area with wooden tables.)  Luckily there were some sheltered areas that are presumably used by people who bring their own lunch and I was able to lie down until I thought I could stand up without keeling over.  My dizziness was outweighed by my need to take another 100 photos or so, but when I was finished I knew there was no way I could go stand by the exit and wait for a minivan to take me back to town.  However, there was an air-conditioned tourist minivan by the gates and a batch of French tourists in the gift shop (again, I use that term loosely) area.  I launched into French and, essentially, shamelessly begged for a ride back.  One lovely woman went to ask their guide if this was possible and, grace a dieu, I got an air-conditioned ride directly to my hotel.  Merci French tourists.

That covers Vientiane.  The next day I packed up and headed south.  I was aiming for Pakse, where I am at present (for the second time) but I didn’t want to take the tourist VIP overnight bus to Pakse.  Being different, I wanted to stop in Savannakhet.  That was either a 10-12 hour public bus ride away or a 1 am drop off in Savannakhet.  I previously blogged my bus ride to Tha Khaek.  Not much to see there but I had a nice hotel room.  Then I had another 6 hour ride to Savannakhet.  This time the driver made no stops for the people on the bus, although he did stop to have himself a 20 minute lunch- about 5 minutes down the road from where we took a brief stop so food and drink vendors could sell us lunch through the windows.  When I realized he was actually sitting down to eat I led the charge off the bus.  I wanted to smoke, but more than that,  I did not want to be baked alive on a steamy, overcrowded, stationary bus.  When I started to head out, everybody followed me.  No bathroom stops on this trip but it’s amazing how little one needs to use a bathroom when all incoming liquid is being used by your body to stay hydrated.  My seatmate was a very sweet girl who spoke no English.  Her shyness evaporated as the trip wore on and she leaned her head on my shoulder as I was leaving to say goodbye.  The Lao people don’t do much intentional touching (being packed like sardines means a lot of unintentional touching) so it was actually very sweet.

When we finally got to Pakse I hightailed it to one of the high class joints in town.  Being Pii Mai (the Laos New Year) it was fully booked, but there were a few no shows and I managed to snag a room at the standard rate of $19.  Heaven!

Once again, I am running out of energy to finish my stories of Laos, and still a few cities behind.  I should mention that Pii Mai is a 3 day celebration which was 5 days this year because the first real day of the holiday was on Monday, so it unofficially started the Saturday before.  The holiday involves a lot of celebrating, drinking, dancing and, generally being very friendly and happy.  But, most of all, it involves water.  Lots and lots of water poured, dumped and thrown on everyone.  The concept comes from being purified (baptism anyone?) and most people participate with a smile.  The children participate with immense energy and glee, lining the roadway with hoses, buckets and waterguns.  The greater danger (:-) are the young adult males who have much better aim and do not scare off as easily.  Also, it seems that girls are supposed to drench boys and vice versa.  I, along with every other falang (foreigner) and Lao alike, spent much of the time very wet.  This is not such a  bad thing since the holiday is in the height of the hot season.  I accepted all of the dousings with affable good spirit until I got to Champasak- after the holiday was finished!- and the drenchings continued.  I started hollering at some little kids- “Enough already!”  They may not have understood the words, but they got the idea and backed off.  It was all fun.

Maybe I’ll finish writing about Laos from Cambodia.  Maybe this is my last post.  We’ll see.