Sunday 27 April 2008

Hue Days (23 - 26 April 2008)











Over the mountains to Hue after dragging ourselves away kicking and screaming from the splendours of the Nam Hai, we drove North over the Hai Van pass and its spectacular scenery. We are reverting to backpacking and found our charming little hostel at £15 a night is actually a lovely boutique hotel with in room aircon, fridge tv, etc (and even a hairdryer for Gill!) plus your own pc with internet , in the backpacker district. Hue is the ancient Imperial capital of Vietnam, with a citadel surrounded by large walls, a moat and an inner city modelled on the Forbidden City in Beijing. We explored most of the city on foot and even the odd cyclo in crazy moped and pushbike traffic as well as torrential downpours, at one point flooding the streets. Hairdressing was on our mind in Hue -Ant gets a haircut – including a full head massage, shaving of head, ears, eyebrows in a small street barbers. Another Vietnamese fake was spotted – a Toni & Guy salon – but Gill declined this opportunity, she doesn’t buy fake handbags so why would she have a fake haircut! We also stop for what we thought may be the equivalent of a Starbucks in a small trendy new enterprise in a citadel backstreet. We can report that this was one thing that was not fake – it sure wasn’t anything like a Starbuck’s. Ant’s coffee, dribbled through an aluminium cup into two teaspoons of condensed milk, giving him a full inch of coffee in his cup! But it was 30% off day, so we paid 30p in total. In typical fashion we escape the tourist trail and entertain ourselves by stopping at riverside cafes near the sampan village, sitting on minute red plastic seats at the edge of the road chatting by dictionary to the café owner and her young son. The sampan village was unbelievable, whole families existing on small narrow boats moored at the edge of a river tributary. Gill was shocked to see two elderly ladies defecating into the river and chatting away – results from Ant’s sneaky cam attached.) The local restaurant was washing up just downstream…… Just behind the beauty salons attached to the colourful fruit and veg market, we catch a ferry back to our side of the river where we were ferried across the river by a local boat owner. We had discovered a back packer hangout called the DMZ Café and bar, a graffiti adorned, loud music’ed pool bar which we have made our home base over the 3 days we have been here. Staff now know us, we have even added to the graffiti by marking “Gill, Ant and Kev, London 2008” on the wall outside – but Banksy need have no fear of competition! We are sitting there right now, nicking the free wifi from the posh hotel across the road, but as backpackers, needs must! We had a light lunch of pizza and our Hue days continued with a visit to Tu Doc in the pouring rain (added to the atmosphere), where Emperor Tu Doc lived and died. He had a nice little pad. We moved on (speed sightseeing as usual…) to the Thien Mu Pagoda, where we saw the car that took the monk (Thich Quang Duc) whose famous picture of his self immolation was flashed around the world in 1963. We then walk through the monastery where, a bit like a human zoo, we watch the monks eat a very nice Vietnamese dinner – we weren’t invited to join! We had our dinner in grand style at a Hue Imperial banquet in a little wooden house tucked away in the corner of the Citadel where they serve over complicated and decorated cuisine with carrots and other veg as carved Phoenix ‘es and peacocks. Deserts appear to be a tree, but taste like a big baked bean wrapped in tasteless red jelly – artistic but inedible. The original wooden house was charming, and the barking frogs reminded us of the Dyl. Hue is a couple of hours south of the DMZ (Demilitarised zone) which marked the old border between South and North Vietnam and hence was the focus of massive amount of fighting during the American war. We hired a guide for the day. He had lived though it all and his stories where initially interesting, but frankly we soon got a bit bored! Over 3 million Vietnamese died compared to 59,000 Americans. We visited one of the larger Vietnamese cemeteries, the Troung Son, with 10,000 war dead from the guarding and construction of the Ho Chi Minh trail. We loved crossing the Ben Hai River which separates the North from the South and walked from one side to the other. Due to the blanket bombing of the area, entire villages went underground, living in tunnels up to 25 metres deep to escape the B52’s above only coming out to tend their fields when the Americans were not flying by. Amazing ingenuity and at the village we visited, the Vinh Moc on Cua Tung beach, no one was killed underground. We also stopped at the Doc Mieu base, from where the Americans could bomb North Vietnam to a distance of 30 kms. On the drive back we stop to look at the Vietnamese cemeteries, we had seen many from the train journeys and they are collections of very ornate edifices with paintings depicting the deceased’s life. We also asked to stop to see pepper growing – the harvest for pepper, as with rice, is due soon. We stop at someone’s garden, look at their trees, pick and taste a bit of pepper and with a wave to the owners and not even a bye your leave, waft away…. bit like the Queen and Prince Philip. As always an Hue day ends at the DMZ Café – this time we travelled the DMZ (actual) to the DMZ (café) and a pizza again. As we sit here whiling away the afternoon like true backpackers and writing our blog, we reflect on our time in Hue before our next adventures in Hanoi. We recall our stay in Hue was enhanced by the regular power cuts – one day for seven hours. Hue has been a gentle reintroduction to backpacking, we’ve enjoyed the Hue days we’ve had, in particular watching the world go by on two wheels, bikes laden with everything from people to fruit to furniture. We wander back to the Orchid hotel and see yet another large rat scampering in our path and disappearing down the nearest drain – lovely! See you in Hanoi - shopping forecast good, weather forecast poor.

Friday 25 April 2008

Carole's birthday (22 April 2008)




It was great to catch up with Carole and Dave – they are travelling North to South, we are doing South to North and we meet up in the middle in Hoi An. After not managing to get together in Europe for ages, we manage it here in Vietnam! It was Carole’s birthday a few days ago so as well as swapping Vietnam stories and experiences, we also celebrate Carole’s birthday with a few glasses and a great meal, as well as a night time swim. We had a barbecue in our villa garden, waited on hand and foot as we prepare to embark on our next adventure to Hue, well prepared by Carole and Dave who told us all the best things to see in the North. The pictures tell the story.

Lanterns on Legendary Night (19 April 2008)


Every Full Moon in Hoi An is celebrated on the 14th day of the lunar month and is known as Legendary Night. The town switches off the street lights. It’s then bedecked with candles, burning of paper money offerings, mini temples set out outside each home and shopn and lanterns making it even more atmospheric. The downside to this though is that potholes, rats and sewers are harder to spot…. In this magical atmosphere, Ant performed magic as he got Gill into a flat bottomed rowing boat out into mid river to release three candle lantern upon the waters. The river was full of these floating lanterns placed by locals and tourists alike to herald the new beginning that comes with each full moon. The elderly lady rowed us for half an hour and when Gill disembarked her relief was as if she had survived the Titanic! We are thinking of starting this on the Thames, but we need to check - one local even asked us if we could see the moon from our country….

A Life in the day of Ms Phuong, Nam Hai Butler (23 April 2008)


My name is Ms Phuong, but Sir and Madam have no idea how to pronounce it, they just shout rather loudly as if I were deaf. I have had the pleasure of looking after them for 7 days now. The fact that they have been able to stay here for 7 days and nights must mean that they have very many paddy fields at home, and last year must have been a bumper harvest for them. They have been a delightful Sir and Madam and excesses have been kept to a minimum. I live in a local town and my English is very good. I don’t think they fully understand this as I have heard them refer to me as Ping Pong when they think I can’t hear. But I don’t mind - they are kind, gentle and good looking people and very thin just like Posh & Becks. They are also very clean as I have to send their whole wardrobe to the complimentary laundry every day. They have some beautiful things, especially the bespoke tailoring, shoes and jewellery that they have commissioned here. I have heard others talking about bespoke clothes made in faraway places called Paris and Madrid, but I know that the clothes, jewellery and shoes they have had made here are much better quality as my town of Hoi An is known for this throughout my country. I was born to serve. I have to wear a lovely uniform every day including the conical hat and shoes that are easy to remove before I enter into any of their five villas. I especially like my butler’s uniform as it is much more stylish and special than the ones worn by those I command – the housekeeping, laundry, gardeners, pool boys etc. I spend my entire day looking after only them and am never more than 10 metres away or within shouting distance of Sir – Madam is a little more reticent, but I have noticed as the week has gone on that her confidence with servants has grown. This must mean that Sir’s paddy fields must be bigger than Madam’s and he must have even more staff. My first job of the day whilst they are still asleep is to clear up the remnants of their midnight swim removing the damp towels strewn across the garden, the empty glasses , old newspapers and assorted designer flips flops. I also bring order to the extremely expensive cameras and video equipment they leave around. Some mornings, I have to serve their breakfast by their private infinity edge pool, the order for which I have taken the night before. This normally entails tea, coffee, baskets of bread and pastries, bacon, eggs, freshly squeezed tropical juices, etc. It is amazing they are still so thin and gorgeous after eating all this food. During their breakfast I do the first room tidy of the day, mainly beds and towels folded, candles blown out and removed, blinds opened – of course I don’t do serious cleaning, that is undertaken by the housekeeping dept later. After breakfast as I clear away I also have to manage housekeeping, pool boys and gardeners as they creep around the villas un noticed by Sir and Madam – all that Vietcong training came in useful after all. I collect their laundry and despatch their beautiful clothes (they do change a lot) to our specialist laundry. By this time Sir and Madam are likely to be in the warm pool. I place the newspaper carefully on their daybeds and keep up the continual supply of iced water and fresh towels. I also keep their complimentary maxi bars fully stocked with cold soft drinks, beer, crystallised ginger, cashew nuts, M&M’s, Snicker’s bars and Nam Hai Pringles. This facility is only needed during the night hours as during the day I will serve whatever they need. But they are so careful of their nutritional intake, they need to have continual supplies at hand. I hate to think of them having to serve these items to themselves but unfortunately, I do have to sleep sometime. I also keep the espresso and latte machine filled and ready for action, as they are able to choose from six types of coffee and five types of tea. I do sometimes worry that this is not enough choice for people with such discerning palates and have reported this back to the managers here. This restocking keeps me quite busy as they have the facility of emptying all 3 maxi bars in all 3 bedroom villas with astonishing regularity. By 11am I can tell that Madam is itching for a gin and Sir is not far behind - I understand in English this is called the dog of the hair. So I pour 2 large measures of gin/vodka with coke, ice and lime to keep them refreshed, and deliver to the pool along with a nice dry towel for their hands so the glasses don’t slip. I usually have a number of messages to do for them at this time, I love the variety – who knows what I could be doing - arranging spa reservations, transfers to Hue, limousine bookings, buggy bookings to transport them to the hotel restaurant or to catch their limousine to town, dinner reservations in Hoi An (and I always get the best tables), personal shopping and shipping, writing their postcards, sending their mail, liaising with the executive chef and ground crews for their catered party for Tuesday night, taking their lunch order, arranging the almost daily changing of the pool temperature (they are such delicate people, the right temperature is critical), showing them yet again how to manage the in villa Bose sound system (given they have such big paddy fields they are not too good with technology), and of course the incessant towel changing, I cannot let a damp towel near their polished and toned bodies. If Sir and Madam are lunching in villa, I serve. Although I don’t wish to leave them, I need to take a very short lunch break each day at 11.30 am, I take this early as I need to be back by midday to sort out any lunch they may require, but I always ask their permission before I go. Their lunch is shortly followed by afternoon tea. They have a preference for Jasmine and I am pleased to see they always finish the cakes and sandwiches completely, regardless of whether or not they have taken lunch. Soon after this, they nod off on one of their eight daybeds scattered in the grounds and are seen to be snoring like hippos for a couple of hours – this is their least flattering period. Late afternoon I return their laundry, hanging the wonderful garments carefully in the cedar wood wardrobes, turn down beds, light candles, change towels again and generally prepare their rooms for the night. Normally, my last task of the day is to serve early evening wine and canapés. I am often exhausted but their smiles are all the reward I need as I go sleepily home. Occasionally, I also have the honour to work even longer hours, for example some other rich Swiss friends of Madam (something to do with Swiss Banks perhaps?) are arriving and we are having a surprise barbecue to celebrate Madam No 2’s birthday. This is so exciting for me – it means I can spend even more hours at their beck and call - deep joy. I am the envy of all the other butlers. Their party guests are arriving at 4pm when I will serve champagne and birthday cake. I have already arranged for a buggy and limo to take them to Hoi An at 5.30pm (mustn’t forget to call and book their drinks table for that). Whilst they are out enjoying post birthday cake, pre dinner drinks, I will coordinate the ground and engineering crews who will transform the grounds into a lanterned fantasy. Interestingly, I heard Sir refer to this design as Widow Twanky’s but I am not sure what he means by this, all I know it will be very stylish if they are involved. I will also liaise with the chefs and waiters who will cook and serve their Vietnamese barbecue. I will definitely try and find a minute to hide away and raise a glass of water to wish No 2 Sir and Madam (their names are Carole and Dave)a happy birthday and a wonderful stay in my country. It has been a real pleasure to serve the best Sir and Madam ever. Although they have kept me busy, I will shed a secret tear as I leave my staff entrance after they leave on their journey over the Hoi Van pass to Hue and I hope that their butler in their next hotel enjoys serving them as much as I have. I understand they are leaving the Nam Hai for a “backpacker” hotel. I do not know what this means, but it must be fabulous if they are staying there. Goodnight and good fortune. May you see many Full Moons. Ms Phuong, 23 April 2008.

Uber Flashpacking (16 - 23 April 2008)











We arrive at the Nam Hai for a relaxing week of utter luxe. Situated on a stretch of the 30 kms China Beach just outside Hoi An, even we were amazed at the luxury that we beheld (see pics). As we were shown around our 3 bedloom, 1 Living pavilion, 1 maid’s suite villa with private infinity pool in luscious widespread grounds by our personal butler, “Numbers at the Nam Hai” came to mind. Here they are:

Butlers - 1
Room housekeeping crew - 3
Pool boys - 2
Gardeners - 2
No of handymen - 2
No of visits by Executive chef - 2
No of visits by Villa manager - 1
No of catered parties - 1
No of seating places in all villas - 87
No of freestanding villas for our use - 5
No of coffee tables in Living room villa` - 12
No of sunbeds - 6
No of double daybeds - 8
No of ceiling fans -12
No of times room cleaned in a day - 3
Square meterage of buildings - 520
Square meterage of gardens - 1015
No of huge garden urns - 9
No of gardens - 4
No of dining tables - 3
Square meterage of pool – 20 metres by 6 metres - 120
No of baths - 3
No of outdoor showers - 2
No of indoor showers - 4
No of metres of beachfront - 60
No of times we have been called Sir and Madam by butler - Too many to count
No of sets of stairs to beach - 2
No of huge flatscreen tv’s - 4
No of 80 G iPods - 3
No of afternoon teas served by butler - 7
No of evening drinks/canapés served by butler - 7
No of moonlight swims - 7
No of spa sessions - 4
No of complimentary limo trips into Hoi An - 4
No of golf cart rides between villa and public areas - 20
No of times M&M jars refilled - 5
No of Acqua di Parma products per room - 10
No of days sunshine - 7
No of postcards written on Ant’s behalf by butler - 2
No of visits by hotel shop manager for shopping/shipping - 1
Number of days worked by locals on average salary to pay for 1 night -1800
No of poor people at resort - NIL!
Bedroom villas - 3
Private temperature controlled, infinity edge 120 square metre pool (ours) -1
No of shared pools for poor people who don’t have a private one - 3 huge
Lotus fish pools in our private grounds - 1
Living room villa - 1
Butler’s quarters (separate building) 1 bed, 1 bath, 1 loo, 1 kitchen - 1
Carafes of complimentary spirits - unlimited
Fridges full of complimentary sweets, ginger, Pringles, beers, soft drinks - unlimited
No of bottles of cold water delivered to poolside by butler - Lots
No of bags of complimentary laundry sent - 14
No of entrances to our estate for us - 3
No of staff entrances - 1
No of times the footprint of Ant’s house would fit in pool - 1
No of frogs - Many
No of Princes - Probably many!
No of times we have requested pool temperature change - 4
No of degrees of pool at its hottest - In the 30’s, warm enough to boil a lobster!
Average daytime temperature - 34
No of typhoons missed (just!) -1
Level of continuous excitement - extreme
No of jaws dropping when first shown around - 2
No of bottles of Tattinger champagne as welcome gift - 1
Average no of courses eaten at each breakfast - 5
No of breakfasts eaten in restaurant overlooking sea - 12
No of breakfast served next to private infinity pool by butler - 2
No of florists visits - 4
No of fresh fruit bowls provided during week - 7
No of fruits eaten from said bowls - NIL
Kilometres of beach - 30
No of films on entertainment system -100
No f CD’s on entertainment system - 75
No of Bose sound systems - 4
Hours worked by personal butler during stay - 70
No of sleeps in most dreamy, comfortable beds ever 14
No of full moons - 1
No of Cham Islands in distance - 5
No of neighbouring fishing villages - 2
No of personal temples - 1
No of libraries - 1
No of complete books read - NIL – too busy enjoying our surroundings to concentrate
Minutes we’ve hated - NIL

Walks on beach - Not enough
No of photos taken of rooms/pool - Many thousands
No of people in 3 bedrooms villas designed for 6 - 2
No of palm trees in grounds - 23
No of squid boats offshore each night - Too many to count
No of times manager has searched us out to make sure all was fab - 2
No of times we have thought of American’s R & R ing on this beach - daily
No of breaststrokes taken to swim length of pool -Ant -15, Gill – 23
No of hours spent in pool - Too many to count
No of times we have referred to each other to butler as “Sir” or “Madam- Too many to count
No of reservations made on our behalf by butler - 18
What we know about butler - Nothing
What we need to know about butler (apart from that she can do her job) - Nothing
No of gold lined bowls purchased - 4
No of gold lined bowls shipped home - 4
No of overnight candles lit by butler in rooms - 28
No of towels used in week - Too many to count
Carbon footprint - Enormous
No of paper napkins - Nil
No of huge starched cotton napkins - thousands

Saturday 19 April 2008

A Scam in 'Nam (16 April 2008)

No self respecting backpacker can survive without at least one story of being “scammed” on their travels. Here is ours. Starved of a newspaper for weeks, we decide to buy one as we were munching on yet another banana krispy outside the Cargo Club Café. A man in a Vietnamese wheelchair (yet another landmine victim, double amputee above the knee, using his arms to propel his chair) approached proferring the local English language one. So we bought it. It was a flimsy affair, very few pages, and mainly local news. He asked 30,000 dong for it (£1). We looked askance at this but with confidence, he showed us the price clearly printed on the front. We assumed there must be some big tax on newsprint or something, so paid up. He took our money and with a huge grin speeded away down the road, he was the fastest landmine victim in the East! The waitress looked at us kindly and kept saying thankyou, thankyou. All a bit strange but nonetheless we started to read away, reflecting on how expensive the news was here – compared to the Times at home for 75p, this was expensive. We read it and go back to the hotel. In reception there is a copy of the same newspaper. Ant picks it up and there, clearly on the top of the front page is printed the price 2,500 dong (8p). So we had been done for a few thousand dong! Looks like they manage to reprint the price on the top, and trusting people like us assume that as the price is printed, it must be right! No wonder he wheeled away with a big grin, we had just paid him the equivalent of one and a half days average salary…. But did we mind, no, we were impressed by his enterprise and it made us really laugh at his cheek. No wonder the waitress thanked us – I don’t think the landmine victims here get much help, so we had stepped into the breach – and it was good karma.

Friday 18 April 2008

Hangin' out in Hoi An (13 - 15 April 2008)
















The approach to Hoi An was not promising as the taxi swept us along the beach road from Danang railway station past building sites for future 5* enclaves and a deserted American military base, starkly reminding of us of both Vietnam’s past and future. We had no room booked so headed straight for the most historically important hotel in the Old town where Michael Caine filmed the Quiet American – of course it was full… However we soon settle in to a great little hotel – balconies, tv, pool, toiletries, aircon, bathrobe – all for double what we are used to paying at $25US a night – the most expensive so far in Vietnam. Hoi An is a beautiful little town dating from the 17th century from when Hoi An was Vietnam’s largest seaport and it still retains the character instilled by 17th century Chinese influenced houses and shops with a very attractive French quarter. Quaint, pretty, fascinating, chill outy, arty, alternative but somewhat touristy and as predicted, reminiscent of Yangshuao in China . With over 200 tailor’s shops it is Vietnam’s centre for overnight tailoring (more of which later….) We were here to spend 2 ½ days before luxuriating at the Nam Hai 10 mins up the road so we needed to pack it all in before then. We spend the 1st day at the Redbridge cookery school learning to cook classic Vietnamese dishes. We start the day by visiting Tra Que vegetable and herb village which consists of 260 families surrounding 250 perfectly preserved vegetable plots by traditionally headed conical hatted ladies growing every imaginable herb and vegetable, all truly organic. The smells were fantastic – Vietnamese mint, holy basil, something that gives off citronella, saw tooth coriander, perfect lettuce etc, etc, all surrounded by perfectly manicured paddy fields. We were served a ginger herbal drink at one house and learn later that the lady of the house, about four foot tall and clad in pyjamas was actually a true Vietcong heroine who had been awarded numerous honours and medals by the Government. Having seen the herbs grow, we proceeded to the market (shopping bags and list in hand to actually do what we had always wanted, i.e. buy rather than just look in the colourful markets to buy the ingredients for our class. Shopping bags bulging, we arrive at the cookery school, a lovely riverside setting and an outdoor kitchen in a pagoda. Our chef Ngoc was a real character and a skilled chef and teacher. He kept our class of six entertained for the rest of the morning. We prepared and cooked and then enjoyed it by eating it for lunch. We sent our compliments to the chefs! Mid afternoon, we catch a fishing boat back to town down the Hoi An River watching the fishing but rather sleepy after our exquisite gastronomic experience! But no sleep on our agenda – we kept going – we went to the market, and that got us started….. Hoi An is also well known for its bespoke jewelery , clothing and shoes. There’s no way we are going to get clothes or shoes made but we check on the jewels… We borrow a Tiffany and George Jensen catalogue and repair to the Brothers café to look it over. We ended up commissioning some pieces and will collect Thursday! Not cheap, but great quality. The shopping bug had got us. The cobblers came next – Gill was in the market for a bejewelled sandal – no glass slippers as Cinderella she ‘aint (at least not here as everything closes at 9.30) but she commissioned 2 pairs of handmade jewelled leather thongs at the huge price of £6 a pair. The bug had truly bitten…. (see pics of suit and dress we have ordered) Jackets, trousers and skirts have been commissioned from a very charismatic, exuberant saleslady. We will see Thursday night whether we live to regret it. On our shopping list we still have lanterns, laquerware, silk sleeping bags and bamboo bowls and this sure to grow – our shopping forecast, unlike Argentina s good to excellent . Weather forecast a little predictable – so far scorchio’s all round, typhoons on horizon…. After such a big shop, we go to the Cargo club for dinner – so much for hangin’ around in Hoi An! Day 2 dawned. We are up by 6.30 due to the cacophany of mopeds outside, so we are off by 7.30. We dropped our laundry off at 50p per kilo (washed and ironed) at some food stall in the street..) and then wandered around the town following Lonely Planet’s walking tour – but taking more notice of the coffee shops and their banana kryspy’s (sic) and shops than the ancient houses and temples. We get “lost” and walk through a tucked away part of town – the non UNESCO world heritage part, i.e open sewers, charcoal makers, chickens and Vietnamese life in the raw, yet again we realise how different our lives are. The day got hotter and hotter so we were really happy to take Fiona’s recommendation and go eco fishing for the afternoon! This involved the 2 of us, 4 fishermen and 3 boats to ourselves in what was probably one of the most bizarre, random and enjoyable side trips ever. No sooner had we left dock, as usual with all boats to ourselves than a tiny flat boat came alongside and attached itself to our rear end. Gill was especially perturbed by the next stage where we were expected to transfer ourselves mid river from the larger fishing boat to the rickety flat bottomed tiny boat to join the toothless fisherman and his wife who had both definitely lived through the American War – they must have had at least four teeth between them. Hanging on gingerly as this small boat was cast adrift , at this point we were shoeless and bagless and topped off in conical hats – Ant’s with pink ties, Gill’s with yellow (which apparently is good because yellow is lucky we were told). Which was all to the good as there wasn’t a life jacket to be seen. Whilst being rowed by the elderly lady, the man in a style reminiscent of a discus throw, hurled his lead weighted net into the sea. Ant was expected to reciprocate. He did a good job and landed at least 20 minute fish – may have been enough to make to fish sauce – but not quite enough for dinner. The fisherman held the small fish to our ears (lovely..) and we could heat them grinding their teeth in anguish asking to go back into the water – so we gave in and threw them back. Ant was dripping. Net casting is the man’s occupation, so Gill was invited to stand at the back and row – she declined, gripped into her seat in fear – no way she was moving. Ant had to step into the breach. This method of fish continued when we landed on a distant beach when we both had the opportunity to unfurl nets in turn. Score – fisherman nil, Gill nil, Ant 1! They decided to give him a job on the spot. We then move on to more sophisticated methods involving huge nets the size of tennis courts suspended over the sea. Complex manoeuvres – we climb a rickety bamboo frame where we use hands and feet to turn the wheel to lower the net in to sea. Then using hands arms, legs and feet ,we wind it back in till the net rose again almost clear of water, but not quite, We clamber down from our bamboo frame and are expected to get in our 3rd boat - a small bamboo coracle and paddle under the net pushing the fish in front of us into a hole where Gill then gathers them in her bamboo basket…how the mighty fall. This was Vietnamese peasant fishing at its best . We were wet, dirty sweaty, sandy and laughing as we clamber back on board to lunch of squid prawns and fish pancakes. In for a penny, in for a pound we thought and not wanting to appear rude we devoured the lot de-veining the prawns as we went, discarding the heads and intestines into a bin. The head boatman was impressed by our de-veining skills if not our fishing. You cannot believe how peasantish and authentic this experience was. The afternoon continued with another coracle trip amongst the water coconut palms to where the Vietcong has sheltered and been shot at during the war. After another long but real fun day, we dine again in the Cargo Club. So much for hangin’ out in Hoi An….. Despite promises to ourselves that we would not waste time on this trip visiting old ruins and temples in the jungle regardless of World Heritage site status, as Day 3 dawned we were in a taxi at 6.30 heading out on the 50k to the My Som Cham temps the Vietnamese version of Angkor Wat built between the second and thirteenth centuries. Even though we entertained ourselves by posing with headless statues, will we never learn to trust our instincts? Even if the Americans had not spent years bombing it, it would not have held our interest long. As it was, this old city in the jungle was an overgrown, bombed to bits pile of bricks. And to make things worse there was not even good shopping in the souvenir shop. Back in Hoi An by 10.30am, we finally find time to hang around in Hoi An over yet another banana Krispy!

Rails through the rice paddies (13 April 2008)




We failed to get soft sleepers for this 8 ½ hour journey so find ourselves in a 6 berth hard sleeper compartment on the 05.40 from Nha Trang to Da Nang that we miraculously got to ourselves. The carriage had obviously just been vacated by people travelling up from Saigon. We had to remove used sheets blankets and pillows, but decided to get the train attendant to remove the used Pampers nappy that was peeking out from under the lower of the 3 bunks. Insulating ourselves by wrapping in our sarongs we managed a couple of hours rest before being woken up by the “charming” screech of Vietnamese piped music that suddenly began to sound loudly trough the speaker system. At the station by 5.20 am we failed to find any bananas, so we breakfasted (and lunched….) on the coconut biscuits that Gill dropped on the floor and deciding not to partake of the constant trolley offerings of soup, rice and chicken trollied past our door (see pic). But the scenery – we spent the whole time looking at the miles of verdant jigsaw of paddy fields in the foreground, with jagged forested hills in the distance. This was peppered by stick like figures in this medieval landscape, wearing traditional conical hats as they bent double attending their fields. As the train passed nearer the coast in places we also saw the traditional making of salt. All you need for life is here – water, rice and salt. In contrast to this simple lifestyle, we are writing this blog on the computer…… The field and ground alongside the railway tracks are littered with big, heavily decorated gravestones – some isolated in the middle of the paddies, and some in huge graveyards,many of which are victims of the war. We stopped at one point to let another train pass and the whole place was crowded with these graves. Sadly, our Vietnamese reading skills are not yet fully developed, so we have no idea where we were! Ant has now turned into a trainspotter, excitedly pointing out passing trains, and checking for accuracy the times were arriving and leaving stations on the pasted up timetable – in Hanoi, we will be buying his anorak.

Yin Yang in Nha Trang (12 April 2008)












Like all those GI’s during the war, Nha Trang was a place of “R & R” for us, exercise and relaxation to balance our yin and yang. After getting off the train and an early breakfast, we removed to the Louisian Brewhouse Beach Club where we spent 2 days. For 20,000 dong (60p) we could spend our time resplendently reclining on day beds on Nha Trang’s broad, white , 10 kilometre sweep of beach and turquoise sea (it is after all one of the world’s top ten beaches), with green islands in the distance, the odd fishing boat and peace. It was a beach of two halves – in the morning for a 7 am swim (and yes, we were on the beach both days at that time!), it was all locals taking a dip, doing their exercises and Tai Chi and pensioners playing badminton on the beachside open courts. As the day progressed it was taken over by Westerners enjoying their holiday. We were waited on hand and foot by the smiling waiters, and sold to (food, postcards, paintings..) by people without hands and feet (the omnipresent landmine victims). On Day 2 we dragged ourselves from such decadence as we took out two bikes riding through the town and out into the winding, potholed country lanes for 12kms on our self organised “mud baths, minerals and bikes tour”. We passed the impressive 12th century Cham towers (same, same but not very different…) being avoided by lorries, cars, taxis, minibuses, coaches, screeching mopeds and cyclos. We cycle to the Thap Ba Hot Springs which are definitely one of the jewels of Nha Trang, located along the banks of the river. We start with a 15 minute communal mud bath, pouring buckets of mud over each other’s heads using brightly coloured pans. (see pic). From there we sit in the warm sun for another 15 minutes while the mud dries and soothes and cleans the skin. After showering clean with naturally hot water we jump into the mineral spring where we sit making sign language conversation with locals who seemed to enjoy pouring hot water over these strange farangs using a gourd. Then on to stand under the powerful waterfall (still hot - 38 degrees) and finally we swim in the hottest swimming pool ever. And the cost? Yes it's expensive - it cost us about £2.50 each. What an experience! But one tip - think about what you wear – Gill’s white swimmie top is now a nice Armani beige. Relaxed, we remount our trusty (or should that be rusty) bikes for the journey back. We take a rest in the middle of a rickety river bridge with traffic of all kinds passing by to take some shots of the brightly painted fleet of fishing boats which serve as both home and business for the families living aboard. We would see them in the distance later tonight as they were out there plying their trade, looking like a brightly lit village in the far distant sea. Shopping is also part of feeding the soul and balancing our chakras, so on our return cycle, we divert to the studio of Vietnam’s globally renowned, leading photographer Long Thanh. His gallery is full of evocative black and white photos of Vietnamese life – all done with film developed in his small kitchen with hand mixed chemicals - no digital stuff here. We were lucky enough to meet him and he even took a picture with Ant’s camera, and I have to say he was suitably impressed with Ant’s equipment… Ant indulged in this shopping opportunity - same, same and no different! As we cycled back, our cycling proficiency and confidence grew as we started to manage the roads and crazy traffic like locals. That means effectively think of yourself – everyone else will go around you. Keep your eyes closed going round busy roundabouts, don’t look as you join a road, go through red traffic lights (and how nice to do what we both hate London cyclists doing!), drive on the wrong side of the road or the pavement if the fancy takes you, or go down a one way street the wrong way. Ignore intersections completely, just blithely carry on through it all. It worked, our karma was obviously in balance. Sadly, our bum’s weren’t – by the end we needed to rest them back at the Louisiana Brewhouse Beach Club on their nice soft beds…. And after two much needed drinks and a spot of lunch, our drunken cycling style was not noticed by the local militia. Early evening, in the interest of balance, we decide to take a cyclo i.e. still wheels but someone else’s leg power to enjoy the most expensive drink in the city. We sip our excellent $6 US mojitos overlooking the early evening promenading by the local townsfolk at the Sunrise hotel, a beautiful Western 5* - but you know what? We would not have swapped it with the Ha Van for the world – our charming hotel really made our Nha Trang experience. We choose to dine at a Nha Trang institution, Dante’s Inferno, properly known as Lac Canh, a busy Vietnamese. Plates of marinated raw beef and chicken are delivered to your formica table that had been hastily wiped clean from the previous occupants. The child sized red plastic seats were surprisingly comfortable. And then the bucket of white hot smoking coals was placed centrally upon it – you cook your own tea here! The atmosphere in the restaurant with the buckets of flaming coals on every table was worse than any London pea souper – no non smoking tables here! Full of local families, it had a really buzzy atmosphere, and the bill was all of £8 for two – and over half of that was spent on our bottle of reasonable French wine. They give you wet towels, smelling faintly of Domestos here – not for cleaning your hands we decided, but removing the black soot from your face before getting a taxi home! Gill was especially amused by bowls full of dirty dishes continuously passing that had been outsourced to somewhere down road – perhaps the restaurant had no running water? At the end of our action packed day, with our yin and yang perfectly in balance, we make our bed time 11pm to be ready for our 5 am taxi to the station to pick up the Reunification Express for the next leg of our adventure into Central Vietnam.

The Sputum Express to Nha Trang (10 - 11 April 2008)



Not a nice title we know, but in a way felt it encapsulated our adventure getting to Nha Trang. We have decided to take the night train from Saigon to Nha Trang – flashpacking again we thought as we purchase our tickets at $22 US each for an airconditioned soft sleeper to travel almost 500 kms over 7 hours on the famous Reunification Express. We should have remembered the old adage, you get what you pay for in life… It is the best available and as expected we would be in a 4 berth cabin, 2 beds on the bottom and 2 on the top. Precedence is given for the lower bunks for those travelling the longer distances – some taking over 2 days to get to Hanoi, so we knew we had been allocated upper berths. The trip to the station was fine, and we were sad to leave the City. The station, after having been through Bejing and expecting similar, was not similar at all and really quiet and easy. We find our allocated car and make our way up the narrow corridor to find our berth. It appeared that the whole of a local village was in there – filled with people, boxes, cases but at least no chickens that we could see. Someone who had good English sorted it all out, and the boxes were removed from our bunks. We put our luggage inside and waited in the corridor till the residents sorted themselves out. As the maelstrom cleared, we were left with a very old, gaunt, frail, desperately sick man, with a striking resemblance to Ho Chi Minh on one bunk, accompanied by what we think was his daughter on the other, in what we interpreted to be a mercy mission to take him home to the North to die. He clearly wasn’t long for this world. The first sputum arrived before the train departed and was elegantly deposited in a plastic bag. As the night progressed, we became all too familiar with the pattern and the noise… We had stood in the corridor for an hour watching the night scenery as we slowly wound our way out of Saigon before we managed to brave the clamber to the upper level bunks. We were something of a novelty as the only Westerners on the train and a parade of people walked back and forth to take a look at these giants. We also shared in a spiritual moment as a lady cast fake paper money out of the window as an offering to the Gods for a safe journey. It worked. Despite the hacking coughs of our companion, the pitching and rolling of the train and the shouts of the stationmaster at the 2.30am stop we discover that we must now be hardened backpackers as we get a good night’s rest. We were woken this morning at the scheduled 5.39am, bang on time by the shouts of “Nha Trang, Nha Trang”. We knew we had reached our destination. It couldn’t have been that bad though, we have just booked ourselves into a 6 berth hard sleeper for the 8 hour journey to Danang in a few days time – we are looking forward to discovering who our companions may be this time…. On arrival into Nha Trang we had no accommodation arranged, so relied on trusty Tripadvisor to guide or way. We successfully get 2 spacious rooms at $14US each, again with bathroom, toiletries, aircon, tv, fridge and mini bar at the Ha Van hotel and even after all that adventure, we were still checking out the beach before 7 am – so it may be an early night tonight….

War and Peace (10 April 2008)





A day of contrasts – we have a trip starting at 8am to the Cao Dai temples and then onto the Cu Chi tunnels. We opt for a small coach tour as we felt we needed to “backpack” again for a while to get our feet back on the ground, and it cost all of $7 US each. We board the bus and the guide, Minh, starts to tell us all about himself and the day. His story (the bits we could understand) was interesting. He was a translator for the American 101st Regiment during the War, and it was clear he was no supporter of the final communist outcome! But Ant decided that it was no wonder that the American’s lost – his English was so bad, if they were relying on him for translations, they must have made some terrible decisions! But it was when he outlined the timing for the day, our hearts fell – 1 hour on the bus before we stop for 30 minutes at the “Handicapped Handicrafts” (see pic) – no pc terminology here… followed by another 2 hour drive to the Cao Dai temple, followed by a 30 min drive to lunch, followed by a further 1 ½ hour drive to the Cu Chi tunnels, followed by a 2 hour drive back to Saigon – why oh why did we not decide on a private car we thought… But managing to snooze really well through a lot of the travelling even though the roads were some of the roughest we have ever been on (may have been something to do with the late night birthday cocktails…) it turned out to be a really good day. The Cao Dai temple is a 1 kilometre square area where people from the Cao Dai religion have their “headquarters. It an odd religion, a mix of Taoism, Confuciousism , Islam, Christianity and Buddhism , started in 1926, with Victor Hugo as one of its Saints, frankly, it appeared a bit of a cult. The top officials all dress in either blue, red or yellow depending on their status, and wear hats that look like they have been made out of those boxes that expensive Belgian chocolates are made of (see pic). The followers all wear white (actually a rather grey/white, they can’t be using Ariel…), some of the women with their heads covered (they were the nuns we think), and some not. They all proceed into the huge temple to pray 4 times a day, and are arranged in very precise serried ranks, and if they were an inch out, one of the officials moved them to correct the fault. The temple itself was a huge area, with lots of colourful, carved columns, and the ceiling a pale sky blue with silver stars. We attended the midday “show”, as a show was exactly what it felt like. All we tourists left our shoes outside and climbed up the two winding flights of stairs to the viewing gallery, and clicked away as the devotions progressed – fascinating. Then back to the bus for the trip to lunch – a roadside restaurant that was the front of someone’s home, as you walked through their living areas to get to the loos at the back. Very trusting as all their worldly possessions were there, completely unguarded – but frankly the level of design and style meant that they were probably safe… And on to the Cu Chi tunnels. These are the underground tunnel networks of the Vietcong, deep in enemy territory that were the downfall of the American’s during their war. The skill and cunning of the men and women who raged their guerrilla war against the “Imperialist” South Vietnamese, meant that even with the carpet bombing of the area by B52 bombers (the huge craters are still there to see), the defoliation of the area with Agent Orange to clear the jungle so they could try to see the Vietcong in the jungle (the land is still recovering and dioxins are still present in the soil) and the dropping of napalm (we passed along the road where that iconic picture of the small girl covered in napalm running away was taken), the Americans could not stop their guerrilla attacks. The site is well managed, and even though there were quite a few people visiting, they managed the groups well. We saw the actual entrances to these tunnels – tiny and there’s no way you could spot them, and a Vietnamese guide got in to show us how it was done. Their small stature means they could get in and out easily through this tiny square, but no way would a well fed American GI have made it. So clever were they at hiding these tunnel networks, that the American command actually built a command post over part of them and they didn’t know – all they knew was that the Vietcong of Cu Chi kept appearing, doing great damage and disappearing at will. There is so much shrapnel left in the ground around Cu Chi that it is called “Iron Land”. And the villagers are still feted as Vietnamese heroes for the part they played in the downfall of the “Imperialist South” and the victory of the “Communist North”. At the site they have built a 100metre long replica tunnel, which is made wider than the originals so that Westerners can go through and get a feel for what it must have been like. Ant, of course went down (Gill, of course didn’t…) and crawled in the complete darkness, up and down different levels, past 4 possible exits to emerge triumphant, one of only 3 of the 20 or so people who went down to do the whole length. This is really unusual apparently, most people can’t bear it and come out of one of the earlier exits. Ant reports that the darkness is so complete, you have to feel your way along whilst on hands and knees, and feel where to lift yourself up to the next level, and you start to understand what it must be like to be buried alive. The Vietnamese guard was so impressed by his completion of the whole 100 metres that he christened Ant a new Vietcong Hero! He’s expecting his medal in the post…. As you go round the tunnel area, you hear gunshots in the background – realistic sound effects we thought. But no, there is the opportunity to shoot real ammunition, from real guns that were used during the war at the end. Ant went for an M60 machine gun, and shot off 10 rounds (see – and hear – vid). It was the loudest noise I think I have ever heard. On then to sample some Vietcong war time cuisine with tapioca root and tea… Arriving back in Saigon at the promised 6pm, we prepare to leave this city and our great little hotel for our next stop – up the coast to Nha Trang.