Off the Couch and On the Road

We spent two and a half days in Hanoi, but I won’t recount everything we did, party because there are many, many bars in Hanoi and one of those days were spent sleeping and travelling around the city on motorbikes searching for french fries (‘Chips and burger! Take us to chips and burger! No – chips and burger not worth 20,000 dong, 10,000 only!’) and partly because the other one a half days were spent doing boring (yet air-conditioned) touristy stuff like seeing Uncle Ho (Ho Chi Minh) himself, embalmed in a casket; the Revoloutionary Museum and the famous Vietnamese water puppet theatre show.

But it’s a wonderful city – streets of nothing but shoes, or paint, or sheet metal, each street with shops of exactly the same products and shopkeepers all standing on the sidewalk encouraging customers inside.

The only way to get around the traffic is by motorbike, which is so much fun and yet seriously insane, your legs actually rest on the bike next to you everyone is that close. There were women with heels, skinny jeans and Louis Vuitton motorbike seat covers next to women in fisherman pants or pyjamas picking up their kids from school – all honking their horns of course.

We drank coffee in fancy restaurants near the lake, and sat on plastic stools drinking lemon juice in the old quarter, and decided maybe Laos wasn’t our favourite country after all. Then again, there are many, many bars in Hanoi, which may have something to do with that.

-Sarah

The Vietnamese love their horns. You honk when you pass someone, to say hi; when you overtake someone, to let them know you are behind them; when you pass a family of seven riding the same bike, perhaps to pay respect to this awesome balancing manouvre; and if noone is around, then you honk anyway, because you can.

It’s crazy and loud, and you could tell the difference in the landscape as soon we crossed the border from Laos. We drove for 8 hours the day we crossed the border, the traffic slowly getting more congested and the horns becoming more frequent.

During the bus ride, which passed through the Ho Chi Minh trail, we talked of the history of Vietnam, which apparently began when a sea dragon and mountain fairy met, married and had 100 sons. The fairy and dragon decided they couldn’t live together anymore as they were both too far away from the mountains and ocean they called home, so they took 50 sons each and separated, the oldest son becoming the first Emporer of Vietnam.

After a night in a hotel with the best shower in the world (it’s a big call, but sometimes you have to just put it out there), we continued our journey eyes down, because if you looked out the front window at the traffic headed straight for you, you were constantly freaked out and arrived in Halong Bay by mid afternoon.

It is said that as the Dragon that founded Vietnam soared above the water and dove down, he hit the water and the humps because the rocky islands of Halong Bay. Or something like that, beause let’s face it I’m not great at remembering overrated things like the actual facts and actual history. But still interesting, yes?

Sakai splashed out at got us a 3-storey boat all to ourselves which we boarded and spent the afternoon swimming off the boat in the ocean, and being spoiled by the crew with delicious seafood for lunch and dinner. There were hundreds of similar boats all parked around the area (some of which were other Intrepid travellers who looked very boring on their 2-storey boats) and it was amazing sight to see them all lit up, scattered amongst the picturesque islands.

We spent the night on the boat, and woke when it shuddered to a start and began to make the return journey to the mainland early the following morning. It would have been nice to stay an extra day in our own piece of paradise, but we boarded our bus once again to the city of Hanoi and looked forward to the culture shock of the most populated city in the entire world! (Or maybe Asia. Or maybe just Vietnam. I can’t really remember, but the entire world sounds so much better…)

-Sarah

PS: Hotmail is shit, it’s time to acknowledge that. I can read emails but not reply right now, so glad everyone is well and look forward to hearing more about what you are all up to!

The 6-hour bus ride went quite quickly and by the time we arrived in Hin Boun near the border of Vietnam, we were refreshed and relaxed. We stayed in a village, relatively average sized in this area, of about 1000 people.

One or two of the kids knew a few words of English, but the majority didn’t – so we communicated in the international language of hopscotch, hand-clapping games, and a great one called ‘let’s look at Sarah’s photos and realise most of them are shit and are of boring things like trees, waterfalls and pigs. But it was great fun (don’t worry you will all get to play soon!).

Our local guide cooked us a meal of fresh spring rolls and tamarind dipping sauce as well as soup, rice and vegetables which was heaven. It was great to watch village life, and interesting to see how work and life is so intermingled in Indochina. People don’t choose where, when or how they work, it’s just what they do as part of their day. Street-side restaurants are within the living rooms of the family, undoubtably with a TV and a few kids sitting 2cm away from the screen watching Power Rangers (some things don’t change wherever you go). Kids also help their parents with the work as soon as they can walk, and you can see the young girls of 10 or 11 stop what they are doing and cock their head, hearing a baby cry, before going to see if they can settle it. They are also kids mind you, and then try to push each other off the blaconies. As you do.

We slept on mattresses in two huts, mosquito nets hanging over us from the ceiling like coocoons, and woke to roosters crowing before saying goodbye to our newfound friends and travelling a few hours to the Vietnam border.

We have been told that if Laos is a sweet friend sitting at a distance, then Vietnam is a stranger yelling two inches from your nose. But we are all looking forward to the challenge.

-Sarah

The essentials used to be keys, keycard, phone and Asthma puffer. Now, they are mosquito repellant, passport, cash and Tiger Blam – which can officialy cure any affliction known to man.

I wake up bruised, sore, bitten, hungover and tired most days, but not bored. Never bored. And I think the happy singsong voices of ‘Sabaidee!’ everywhere we go is a sign that money really can’t buy hapiness. Which everyone knows of course, but I don’t think many people actually believe it. After all, the villages we have visited have nothing in the eyes of most westerners, but they respect everything they have, which is more than I can say for most.

After a free day in Luang Prabang, spent relaxing in the town and catching up on internet and washing, we ended our stay with a  beautiful dinner lit by fairy lights in the gardens of our bungalow guesthouse. We all loved the town and didn’t want to leave.

Unfortunately we had to suffer a flight to Vientiane the next morning. I say suffer, because it was hell, and from memory those who go to hell suffer quite badly. It was a 40-minute flight with no air-con and most of us were quite grateful to be on solid ground when we arrived.

Vientiane was a strange Capital City (the term of which is a technicality, and not necessarily a descriptive one), quite a bit bigger than Luang Prabang and yet not as beautiful, more to do with less to see it seemed.

We played more cards and enjoyed drinks by the Mekong (the other side of which was Thailand) and planned our free day the following morning. Some of the group hired bicycles, and I walked. Nobody walks in Vientiane, and I suppose it would be like watching somebody crawl down George Street. But hey, a bike is a bike, and I don’t do bikes. So I walked.

After seeing temples and a replica Arc de Triomphe (the US gave Vientiane a shitload of concrete to build a highway after the war, and the Laos government stuck two fingers up at the US and built a structure to honour the French instead) we had a well deserved kindy nap and celebrated Marcus’ birthday with dinner and drinks at the pub, including a plate of marinated and fried crickets.

They were actually really good, although I couldn’t bring myself to open my eyes whilst I ate them. Still, as a year for trying new things, I don’t think with a plate of insects I am doing too badly.

Tomorrow – a 6-hour bumpy bus ride on dirt roads to stay a night in the homes of villagers near the Vietnam border. Which means more bruises and mosquitos. Thank Buddha for that Tiger Balm.

-Sarah