Another of those days when we had to choose between a long haul bus or a short haul flight.
I know it's cheating, and that real travellers should always take the most challenging, circuitous route to anywhere. But I as I update the blog in the nice air-conditioned Internet cafe, sipping beer and listening to relaxing music, I can't help feeling it's a more fulfilling experience than sharing the back of a bus with 9 Cambodian schoolkids, a gap year home counties hippy and a box of chickens.
Yes folks, today we let the plane take the strain.
Saturday, March 17, 2007
So, Vietnam. What did we think?
A fantastic country. Anyone basing a 2 or 3 week itinerary on the 'H''s of Hanoi, Ha Long Bay, Hue and Hoi An simply couldn't fail to have a blast.
The scenery's pretty special, particularly in the north, the food is the best we've had on the entire trip, and the people are straight out of the top drawer - kind, cheerful, and in a lot of cases, laugh out loud funny.
Bearing in mind that less than 40 years ago this was a divided nation with both sides attempting to bomb the crap out of each other, there seems to be an incredible optimism and energy about the place.
Of course, the whole communism thing in Vietnam is a nonsense these days. You do see some army types wearing sour expressions and hammer & sickle armbands, but unlike their counterparts in Laos they don't seem to instill any fear among the wider population.
No, everyone else is way too busy to bother bowing down to the big red flag - too busy making a buck or having a laugh.
So we'd recommend Vietnam to anyone, as long as they avoid Saigon.
The scenery's pretty special, particularly in the north, the food is the best we've had on the entire trip, and the people are straight out of the top drawer - kind, cheerful, and in a lot of cases, laugh out loud funny.
Bearing in mind that less than 40 years ago this was a divided nation with both sides attempting to bomb the crap out of each other, there seems to be an incredible optimism and energy about the place.
Of course, the whole communism thing in Vietnam is a nonsense these days. You do see some army types wearing sour expressions and hammer & sickle armbands, but unlike their counterparts in Laos they don't seem to instill any fear among the wider population.
No, everyone else is way too busy to bother bowing down to the big red flag - too busy making a buck or having a laugh.
So we'd recommend Vietnam to anyone, as long as they avoid Saigon.
Day 155. Saigon, Vietnam. Small world.
Saigon. Sounds really exotic doesn't it?
Well, believe me, it's not.
It's a dirty, noisy, sprawling mess. I mean, how can somewhere twice the size of Hanoi contrive not to have a City centre? where's all the interesting old stuff? the hip hotels, the cool bars, the buzzing street-life? Is there nothing that can redeem this hellhole from the merciless slating I'm dishing out here?
Probably not, and we don't intend to hang about long enough to find out. We're on the first flight out of here tomorrow and it can't come quick enough.
Sorry. I'm in a foul mood after Newcastle's elimination from the UEFA cup last night and am taking it out on Saigon.
The great thing about travelling though, is something always comes along to lighten the mood. And tonight, while we were looking for an inexpensive watering hole, we bumped into a graphic designer I worked with 6 months ago in London.
The lovely Kirsten and her boyfriend Darren are on a big trip of their own, attempting to see as much of the world as they can before returning to live in South Africa.
We shared a couple of pitchers, traded our Vietnam guide book for their long list of Cambodian do's and dont's and ended up having a very pleasant evening indeed.
I'll even go as far as to say that by the time I hit the sack, I'd almost wiped the Cup exit from my memory.
Almost.
38 years and counting...
Well, believe me, it's not.
It's a dirty, noisy, sprawling mess. I mean, how can somewhere twice the size of Hanoi contrive not to have a City centre? where's all the interesting old stuff? the hip hotels, the cool bars, the buzzing street-life? Is there nothing that can redeem this hellhole from the merciless slating I'm dishing out here?
Probably not, and we don't intend to hang about long enough to find out. We're on the first flight out of here tomorrow and it can't come quick enough.
Sorry. I'm in a foul mood after Newcastle's elimination from the UEFA cup last night and am taking it out on Saigon.
The great thing about travelling though, is something always comes along to lighten the mood. And tonight, while we were looking for an inexpensive watering hole, we bumped into a graphic designer I worked with 6 months ago in London.
The lovely Kirsten and her boyfriend Darren are on a big trip of their own, attempting to see as much of the world as they can before returning to live in South Africa.
We shared a couple of pitchers, traded our Vietnam guide book for their long list of Cambodian do's and dont's and ended up having a very pleasant evening indeed.
I'll even go as far as to say that by the time I hit the sack, I'd almost wiped the Cup exit from my memory.
Almost.
38 years and counting...
Friday, March 16, 2007
Day 154. Hoi An, Vietnam. What's cooking?
I tell you what, they know a thing or two about nosh in Vietnam.
Fresh fruit and baguettes for breakfast, a nice bowl of noodle soup for lunch, and then when it comes to dinner, well they do things with a big juicy aubergine that'd bring tears to Jamie Oliver's eyes.
It's bloody lovely man. So lovely in fact, that Wend signed up this morning for a one day cookery course. Yes, you lucky people will be able to have a bit of what we've been enjoying on our return when we throw the biggest dinner party in N16's history.
Grilled seabass with turmeric and lemongrass anyone? fresh rolls with pork, shrimp, coriander and mint? a light Vietnamese salad with green papaya, garlic and chili?
Not for you? OK, get yourself to the kebab shop and we'll see you in the Rose & Crown after we've finished.
Fresh fruit and baguettes for breakfast, a nice bowl of noodle soup for lunch, and then when it comes to dinner, well they do things with a big juicy aubergine that'd bring tears to Jamie Oliver's eyes.
It's bloody lovely man. So lovely in fact, that Wend signed up this morning for a one day cookery course. Yes, you lucky people will be able to have a bit of what we've been enjoying on our return when we throw the biggest dinner party in N16's history.
Grilled seabass with turmeric and lemongrass anyone? fresh rolls with pork, shrimp, coriander and mint? a light Vietnamese salad with green papaya, garlic and chili?
Not for you? OK, get yourself to the kebab shop and we'll see you in the Rose & Crown after we've finished.
Thursday, March 15, 2007
Day 153. Hoi An, Vietnam. Yer history.
After 2 days of doing diddly on the beach we were craving a culture fix, so took a self-guided tour of Hoi An's historical sites.
One of the reasons we love this town is because it's so magnificently manageable. Even the old stuff comes in philistine-friendly bite sized chunks. So once you've visited a couple of Mandarin temples and strolled around a pagoda or two, you just know there'll be somewhere serving cold beer within 20 metres to help you digest what you've seen.
Tempted to write and complain to Lonely Planet after they recommended the Ceramics museum though. Normally we're partial to a nice pot (God knows, we've photographed enough of the buggers since coming away),
but with so many displays of broken crockery, this place looked more like a Greek wedding reception than a museum. Not good at all.
Far more impressive is the 250 year old covered Japanese bridge. We've been across 3 or 4 times since arriving and it's great. What's odd however, is that on each occasion there's always been at least 30 Japanese tourists milling about. They add a certain authenticity to the spectacle I suppose, but you never see them anywhere else in town. They've travelled all this way just to hang out and take pictures of somewhere that reminds them of home.
Very strange behaviour.
Right, we're off for some beans on toast and a nice cup of tea now. Hopefully I'll catch the Premiership results and we'll bump into some Brit's who'll tell us what the weather's like in London.
One of the reasons we love this town is because it's so magnificently manageable. Even the old stuff comes in philistine-friendly bite sized chunks. So once you've visited a couple of Mandarin temples and strolled around a pagoda or two, you just know there'll be somewhere serving cold beer within 20 metres to help you digest what you've seen.
Tempted to write and complain to Lonely Planet after they recommended the Ceramics museum though. Normally we're partial to a nice pot (God knows, we've photographed enough of the buggers since coming away),
but with so many displays of broken crockery, this place looked more like a Greek wedding reception than a museum. Not good at all.
Far more impressive is the 250 year old covered Japanese bridge. We've been across 3 or 4 times since arriving and it's great. What's odd however, is that on each occasion there's always been at least 30 Japanese tourists milling about. They add a certain authenticity to the spectacle I suppose, but you never see them anywhere else in town. They've travelled all this way just to hang out and take pictures of somewhere that reminds them of home.
Very strange behaviour.
Right, we're off for some beans on toast and a nice cup of tea now. Hopefully I'll catch the Premiership results and we'll bump into some Brit's who'll tell us what the weather's like in London.
Day 152. Hoi An, Vietnam. Out with the old...
Dropped into the tailor's shop for our first fitting this morning. Wend's so impressed she's asked them to run up a load of identical gear in different colours.
Oh Lordy.
We'll worry about how we're going to get it all home when it's time to move on, but suspect some manky old socks and undies might have to be jettisoned.
Tuesday, March 13, 2007
Day 151. Hoi An, Vietnam. Beach bonus.
Rented bikes today to see what goes on beyond the boundries of the old quarter and were chuffed to find a corker of a beach 15 minutes ride away.
So now it's official; we really, really love Hoi An.
So now it's official; we really, really love Hoi An.
Day 150. Hoi An, Vietnam. Suits you sir.
Hopped on a bus bright and early this morning for the 4 hour journey to Hoi An.
An uneventful trip, the lowlight of which was passing through Danang which is possibly the ugliest town we've seen since leaving the UK. Think Middlesbrough with sunshine (difficult I know, as they haven't seen daylight on Teeside since ICI set up shop).
Hoi An, on the other hand - which is only 15 miles down the road - is a gorgeous place. Mercifully untouched during the war, it has more character than you could shake a stick at, the centrepiece of which is a nicely preserved old quarter that they've had the good sense to pedestrianise.
The town is renowned for its large community of master tailors and dressmakers, and few visitors leave without treating themselves to at least one bit of bespoke clobber. You name it, they'll knock it together, from Armani and Boss 3 piece replicas, to simple shirts, skirts and saucy underwear. All made to measure, and all at ludicrously low prices.
Tempted to get myself Hugo'd up for thirty quid, but with space being so tight in our backpacks opted for a shirt and trouser combo for half that amount. Wend, of course, is something of a miracle worker in these situations, and assures me the dress, skirt, trousers and two tops she ordered will fit easily into her already full bag.
Prior to today I'd only ever had my inside leg measured the once - by a tubby little bloke from Islington called Charlie Allen - an unpleasant yet necessary ordeal as he was taking dimensions for my wedding suit.
Call me a complete heterosexual, but it's much more fun when the tape measure's in the hands of someone 4 stone lighter of the opposite sex.
An uneventful trip, the lowlight of which was passing through Danang which is possibly the ugliest town we've seen since leaving the UK. Think Middlesbrough with sunshine (difficult I know, as they haven't seen daylight on Teeside since ICI set up shop).
Hoi An, on the other hand - which is only 15 miles down the road - is a gorgeous place. Mercifully untouched during the war, it has more character than you could shake a stick at, the centrepiece of which is a nicely preserved old quarter that they've had the good sense to pedestrianise.
The town is renowned for its large community of master tailors and dressmakers, and few visitors leave without treating themselves to at least one bit of bespoke clobber. You name it, they'll knock it together, from Armani and Boss 3 piece replicas, to simple shirts, skirts and saucy underwear. All made to measure, and all at ludicrously low prices.
Tempted to get myself Hugo'd up for thirty quid, but with space being so tight in our backpacks opted for a shirt and trouser combo for half that amount. Wend, of course, is something of a miracle worker in these situations, and assures me the dress, skirt, trousers and two tops she ordered will fit easily into her already full bag.
Prior to today I'd only ever had my inside leg measured the once - by a tubby little bloke from Islington called Charlie Allen - an unpleasant yet necessary ordeal as he was taking dimensions for my wedding suit.
Call me a complete heterosexual, but it's much more fun when the tape measure's in the hands of someone 4 stone lighter of the opposite sex.
Day 149. Hue, Vietnam. My tomb's bigger than your tomb.
Between 1802 and 1945 Hue was the capital of Vietnam, and as such was home to all the nation's main men.
They were a conceited bunch, with each successive emperor attempting to outdo his predecessor by building a slightly bigger and more grandiose temple in his own honour - temples that would eventually serve as their private mausoleums.
There are seven of these sites within a 10 mile stretch along the Perfume river, and today we took a tour to three of them; Tu Doc, Khai Dinh and Minh Mang.
First up was Tu Doc, which turned out to be a disappointment. Quite weather beaten and dilapidated, although the ornamental gardens were pleasant enough. Far more interesting is the emperor's story. Such was his paranoia that after spending a fortune constructing the gaff he decided to bamboozle potential grave robbers by being buried at a secret location elsewhere, leaving instructions that the poor buggers unlucky enough to carry out the internment were to be beheaded in the interests of security.
Brutal, but effective as it turns out, because to this day no-one has found either his body or any of the precious artifacts.
Before lunch we squeezed in 10 minutes at a place where they supposedly make those conical hats you always see paddy peasants wear in the movies. The only thing we saw being made though, was lots of money from gullible tourists. It was dull in the extreme, but redeemed by a colourful display of incense sticks, which we photographed but didn't buy.
Met a couple of seasoned travellers over lunch, Shane & Mary from British Colombia, who - like us - were frustrated at the lack of flexibility on the tour. Our guide was a decent enough bloke but we couldn't warm to his constant barrage of instructions: "You get off bus, very beautiful here", "We at temple, back on bus in 30 minutes", "Lunch now, finish in 40 minutes" and so on.
Anyway, the afternoon was better, and the last two temples truly spectacular. Khai Dinh's being especially memorable for the many portraits he'd commissioned of himself wearing full make-up and increasingly flamboyant outfits.
No fifty wives and two hundred children for this fruity fella. No sir.
Dinner in the evening with the Canadians who passed on some top tips for our forthcoming stint in Cambodia.
They were a conceited bunch, with each successive emperor attempting to outdo his predecessor by building a slightly bigger and more grandiose temple in his own honour - temples that would eventually serve as their private mausoleums.
There are seven of these sites within a 10 mile stretch along the Perfume river, and today we took a tour to three of them; Tu Doc, Khai Dinh and Minh Mang.
First up was Tu Doc, which turned out to be a disappointment. Quite weather beaten and dilapidated, although the ornamental gardens were pleasant enough. Far more interesting is the emperor's story. Such was his paranoia that after spending a fortune constructing the gaff he decided to bamboozle potential grave robbers by being buried at a secret location elsewhere, leaving instructions that the poor buggers unlucky enough to carry out the internment were to be beheaded in the interests of security.
Brutal, but effective as it turns out, because to this day no-one has found either his body or any of the precious artifacts.
Before lunch we squeezed in 10 minutes at a place where they supposedly make those conical hats you always see paddy peasants wear in the movies. The only thing we saw being made though, was lots of money from gullible tourists. It was dull in the extreme, but redeemed by a colourful display of incense sticks, which we photographed but didn't buy.
Met a couple of seasoned travellers over lunch, Shane & Mary from British Colombia, who - like us - were frustrated at the lack of flexibility on the tour. Our guide was a decent enough bloke but we couldn't warm to his constant barrage of instructions: "You get off bus, very beautiful here", "We at temple, back on bus in 30 minutes", "Lunch now, finish in 40 minutes" and so on.
Anyway, the afternoon was better, and the last two temples truly spectacular. Khai Dinh's being especially memorable for the many portraits he'd commissioned of himself wearing full make-up and increasingly flamboyant outfits.
No fifty wives and two hundred children for this fruity fella. No sir.
Dinner in the evening with the Canadians who passed on some top tips for our forthcoming stint in Cambodia.
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