The final flashpack - till next time! (2 - 5 May 2008)

So to the last stop on our amazing trip – Hong Kong to shop till we drop – and we were in the right place. Staying at the Conrad, Hong Kong Island (Gill who hates heights on Floor 61 and Ant on Floor 56), but as it was nearer to the free benefits of the fantastic Exec Lounge (thanks Hilton Honors again…), Gill was happy. The view from this top floor Exec lounge as we tucked into a very civilised full on breakfast served by flunkeys was fantastic – the Star Ferry below plying its way over to Kowloon, cruise ships looking tiny docked across the water and various junks and working boats doing their thing. The increasing smog that Hong Kong suffers restricted the views at times – on occasion we couldn’t even see Kowloon, but when it was clear we could see for miles. We discover (although I think Ant knew all of this which is why he booked here… ) that the express lift from Floor 61 takes you down directly in a matter of seconds to the biggest shopping mall ever, Pacific Place, packed with every designer name you have ever heard of and a few names new even to us. The lift pops you out just by Louis Vuitton, how handy! So this long weekend was going to be shopping and relaxing around the lovely pool at the hotel. Luckily, we have both been to Hong Kong before so there was no need for too much sightseeing – a quick whizz down the Nathan Road and the required trip on the Star Ferry left us free to do as we pleased. And we did! Some good food around the pool and some posh and some not so posh food in the evening. But our “posh dinner” left us somewhat sartorially challenged. Looking through the wardrobe we had both done our best, but a wardrobe that had been washed in the Mekong several times was perhaps not as crisp as we would have wanted. We had both bought a couple of new bits of clothing which we wore, but the other bits were not fabulous. We looked at each other and for the first time ever, could not think of a single compliment! We looked exactly what we were – a couple of backpackers attempting to look like flashpackers and failing miserably… But “whatever” (see pic of Ant!), we were happy and enjoyed our stylish meal even though we perhaps didn’t quite match the surroundings. There were visits to the other major sights of Hong Kong – the other shopping malls – but frankly, they were all “same, same and not very different” – seen one Prada, seen ‘em all! On the night we leave, on the way to the Airport for our late flight, we go to the Spring Deer for the best Beijing Duck in Hong Kong which was a delicious but interesting experience – a very brightly lit, freezing, over air conditioned restaurant somewhere in the back streets of Hong Kong, and yet again, as so often on this trip, we were the only travellers in the village. The restaurant was so noisy with large local family groups enjoying the great food. As we leave the restaurant the rain came – we have seen very little of this in Asia, so obviously Hong Kong was crying at the thought of our wallets and credit cards leaving….. We then sadly make our way on the Airport train (having already checked in our 5 bags at the town terminal during the afternoon – how civilised) – but the shopping hadn’t finished. One last flourish – Ant finally found the watch he wanted at the Airport so the credit card came out one last time. Soon after, following a welcome glass of champagne or two, we were tucked up in our British Airways flat beds and sleepily on our way home.

White Thai and Tales (30 April - 1 May 2008)

We were running out of time and had a choice – Halong Bay on a Vietnam holiday week (Independence Day and Labour Day), when everyone who could was travelling to Halong Bay or go the other way deep into the countryside. We chose the countryside. Everyone we have met along the way says that Halong Bay is too crowded and too polluted with dodgy boats. We have decided that the best way to do it would be to go for 3 or 4 days on a private junk so we can go a lot further and see it at its best – and also at a quieter time. So this time we take the trip to see the minority people, both White Thai and Hmong in tiny bamboo stilt villages some 4 hours from Hanoi, and plan a less crowded longer trip to Halong next time. We have seen a lot of Vietnam on our travels, but there’s still lots left – look out for “Hidden Vietnam” in future blogs. We travel over potholed roads and bounce over the most spectacular mountain passes, far more beautiful than the famed Hai Van pass. We were up in the clouds. Then suddenly we start to come down, and laid out before us was the most beautiful green valley, was this Shangri La? We weave down the side of the mountain through hairpin bends and finally reach the wide valley floor, covered in the greenest paddy fields ever. We arrive at Mai Chau village, home of some of the minority people and the first thing we notice as we get out from our transport is the silence. No motorbikes, no blaring horns, just the sound of the odd chicken. The village we arrived at was White Thai and made up of bamboo stilt houses where the local families live. They are basically a large room built up on stilts – the space under the room is the “kitchen” where there is an open wood fire for cooking and a place to keep the animals. Ours was one of the bigger ones (about the same size as our living room villa at the Nam Hai) and as such was able to take in the odd paying guest such as ourselves. At night, they section off the large area with mozzie nets and whoever is there sleeps on the floor….. But we were lucky (?) and got an upgrade. Attached to this larger hut was a smaller one – same design but tiny, and we were allocated it. So in we checked – one bamboo square hut high off the ground, large enough for one very thin mattress on the floor and not much else, at night they would string a mozzie net over it. There were windows, well not actually windows as such, just square holes of bamboo missing on two sides…. What the hell we thought, it was best available - we laughed! We were then guided back to the main hut for our lunch which we ate on the floor, no chairs or dining tables here. After lunch we take a walk around the village. Some families had made little stalls downstairs to sell the locally made handicrafts to the few tourists who come here. We buy a few bits and pieces and then decide to take ourselves off deeper into the fields by taking a couple of bikes. After a kilometre or so, the pedal falls off Gill’s but was rapidly repaired by a group of local boys who were gathering together for an evening game of football (see pic). We look out over the river where water buffalo wallow in the cool, slow river. Bike fixed, we cycle off down the rough paths along the banks of the narrow river. At one point we meet a local with a huge gun (or was he just pleased to see us?), at least five foot tall and taller than him. His gun was resting against a nearby tree as he had scrambled up high into another one to retrieve his catch – the bird, which we assume he had shot, was caught in the high branches. He gets the bird down, and waving us goodbye with said gun and a big smile, he takes his meal home. We cycle further on as the road gets even rougher, and watch another man catching his meal in the river. Hitting the water with the oars from his tin bath shaped boat, he attracts the fish and then catches them in his net. The road runs out so we turn back – and as we do, the pedal on Ant’s bike promptly falls off – good stuff this Vietnamese technology! As we look at the pedal and separate bike, a lady comes out of a stilt house and using sign language, offers to help. She scoots off to find a hammer and a nut as we look helplessly on. She can’t find the right stuff so calls her neighbour from across the track to come and help. He finds a bigger hammer and as he is effecting repairs we are invited in to the house to take refreshment. We manage, again through sign language, and I hope poilitely to refuse. Bike repaired (see pic), we realise that we had cycled some distance and were in need of refreshment. We had spotted a “proper” hotel outside the village (everything is relative…) so make our way there where we find decent wine, so of course, sampled it. A bottle later we decide we need to return to our village before darkness fell – we realise there were no lights on the bikes and obviously not a street light to be seen. We wobble back towards the village and have to negotiate a steep hill. This was not a good time for Ant to discover his bike brakes were not in the best condition – he now has the yellow jersey for the speediest downhill into the village ever! Back just in time for dinner where we ate a repeat of lunch, again on the floor. Concerned that sleep would be difficult in our airless eyrie, we decide that a bottle of the local Dalat wine would help. Felling mellow after dinner we lie back on the floor to watch a display of local dancing – music provided by banging sticks… It’s amazing how strong the bamboo floors are as the whole house wobbled on its stilts as the dancers moved around. It was all of 8 o’clock and that was the only entertainment available so we relaxed into it. The Dalat giving us courage, we also took part at one point – or that may have been more to do with the fact that that particular activity involved knocking back a measure of sweet rice wine. Dancing over by 8.30pm we twiddled our thumbs deciding what to do next – it was far too early for our thin mattress. But help was at hand – it was Labour Day and the village was celebrating by building 3 bonfires in a field just outside. In the pitch dark we walk blindly towards these fires, over the rickety bridge to see something reminiscent of Lord of the Flies meets disco. All the young men in the village, to the beat of loud house music, were holding on to one another and running around and across the bonfires. Amazing what passes for entertainment in these parts. Ant, still fuelled by his Dalat, was persuaded to join – not the fire jumping bit, just the frenetic dancing…. I have the video to prove it if anyone is interested…. But at 10pm, the party, suddenly and with no warning, came to an end – and everyone started walking back to their villages – no idea how everyone suddenly knew it was time to go – perhaps Uncle Ho’s ghost had appeared! As we returned to our village, a little handicraft stall was still open across the way so we go and buy a couple of friendship bracelets that we had been searching for ever since we arrived. As we tied them on each other’s wrists we reflected on how much more friendly we were about to become - we were about to sleep together in a little bamboo hut with no bed, grubby looking pillows and no windows… Finally after chatting away for a while and feeding a lovely local dog with crisps we decided we really had to climb up the wooden ladder and brave the room. As a precaution, in Hanoi we had invested in silk sleeping bag liners to protect us from grubby bedding and pillows. The struggle to get into them was caused by more than our lack of co-ordination following the two bottles of local wine. Then we realised our error – buy a sleeping bag in Vietnam and it will be made to fit a Vietnamese - they were approximately half the size required! But in some situations you just have to go with it, and we place our heads (Gill’s still itches thinking about it…) on the Donald Duck pillows and fall instantly asleep! At this point we remember where Carole and David are sleeping this night – in a luxurious bed in one of the best hotels in the world, the Oriental in Bangkok, whilst we were on a bamboo floor, no aircon, no windows, no bed – how the mighty fall! Village life begins early and given holes for windows and bamboo walls you wake up feeling that you are out in the open. Gill manages to doze for a bit but Ant is up bright and early to eat a “pho” and then go for another bike ride through the paddies. At 8.30am we walk to see some other villages. One called Van was like going back hundreds of years – not another tourist in sight as we enter this 1,000 year old village through yet more amazingly lime green paddies. It’s rather hot as we look for bottled water – we really have gone back in time – it’s not sold here. We were offered a couple of small bottles, but it was obvious that a bit of local re cycling had rapidly gone on with the bottles wet from recent refilling with tap water… Now we’re all for local entrepreneurship but this was too far! Again, we were offered local hospitality in this village with nothing. Old women were returning from the forest laden with wood which they were carrying on their back, supported with a wide band around their heads. We decide to walk back out of the village through the fields and the paths separating the individual paddies. We end up going down the hill towards the river floor, through another part of the village with smaller fields of veg and dammed up bits of river where fish were farmed. We take several wrong turns and come to dead ends, could we end up wandering around this piece of Shangri La for ever we wonder? Eventually, we find the way out and make our way back through yet another old village to get back to where we started after walking about 10kms. On the way we pass through the local small market – and for the first time see close up, dog meat on offer – in joints or the whole animal. After another interminable four hour bumpy journey, lashed by rain, we were never so glad to see Hanoi and our last night. We return to our favourite restaurant, the Quan an Ngoc, then back to the Rising Dragon to pack our little suitcases (getting bigger by the minute with shopping) for the next stage on our adventure. Vietnam has been third world, huge energy, a fantastic adventure with periods of respite at the Nam Hai and Hoi An. The people have all been great and very welcoming . We have used every means of transport – cyclos, boats, planes, sampans, rowing boats, fishing boats, bamboo boats, ferries, trains taxis, cars, coaches, minibuses, feet, bikes, mopeds. Au revoir Vietnam, we will be back.

Paying our respects to Uncle Ho (Tuesday 29 April 2008)

No visit to Hanoi, or indeed Vietnam would be complete without paying respect to Uncle Ho, venerated by the people of Vietnam as their liberator from the American’s. We start today joining the snaking 200 metre queue in the hot sunshine of locals as we were marched 2 x 2 in complete silence, no bags, no shorts, no cameras, no phones, no hands in pockets or behind the back, respectfully dressed in to the ice cold granite mausoleum where Ho Chi Minh and his whiskery white beard lay at rest in his glass sarcophagus in that way that only Communist leaders can. We were very excited to see him as we had missed Chairman Mao in Beijing (he was away for a re-furb at the time!) It was fascinating watch the locals paying their deep respects. Very young children in long lines all holding on to the child in front, making a long snake, together with their teachers paying what was probably the first of many such visits in their lifetime. Our line was escorted at all times by the military in snow white uniforms who are there to ensure the dignity of the process. We didn’t dare look at each other in case we giggled and got arrested – the story in the Lonely Planet of Madame Tussaud’s managing corpse maintenance looked more than possible. The idea of Uncle Ho being wafted off to Baker Street for his annual facial, botox and spa trip crossed our minds! The mausoleum was set in beautiful parklands next to the Presidential Palace; a bright yellow French influenced pile, now used by Vietnam’s leaders. In the gardens we visited the more humble abode that Uncle Ho made his home while he was in charge – a simple stilt house bedside a carp pool – almost Gandhi-esque in its simplicity. After seeing his collection of 2 cars we move on to the HCM museum. This was a lesson in not letting some Western arty type advise you. It was too complex, full of meaningless overcomplicated art – all we needed was simple pictures and history of the man. The most interesting exhibit was the pens used to sign the Paris accords. We also enjoyed our visit to the Hanoi Hilton (Gill forgot to present her Hilton Diamond card for points…..) The Hanoi Hilton is actually the nickname given to this old prison by the French and later for US prisoners of war. It was built by the French colonialists and then saw action in the 60’s/70’s as a prison camp for the US pilots shot down on the bombing raids on North Vietnam. This included Senator John McCain who could well be US President by the end of the year. It’s interesting how perspective changes views. The exhibits about when it was run by the French imprisoning Vietnamese freedom fighters were all about bad conditions and torture (including the guillotines used). But the bits about when it was used to house US POW’s made it look like Butlin’s – all joy and happiness and great care – not sure those US pilots saw it quite that way. In a true reflection of modern Hanoi and its desire to progress and look to the future, most of the original prison has been demolished to make way for airline offices and a shopping mall – a good thing we decided! Another set piece was the one pillar pagoda and the 1000 year old Temple of Literature, but frankly by this time seen one pagoda, seen ‘em all. What we’ve really enjoyed about Hanoi is wandering through the old quarter with its narrow streets, it crazy mopeds and bikes, shops, shoe menders (Gil head her Crocs flip flops re treaded for an exorbitant £1,) tin streets, screwdriver streets, markets and just watching the real people. We find counterfeit street thinking “oh no, not more fake Louis’, but realise this is fake money, houses, cars mobiles etc ., all articles of daily life reproduced in paper to burn during ancestor worship. Hanoi is also famous for its water puppets, also situated in the Old Quarter; clever, but after half an hour of yet more discordant noise from the musicians we left mid show, we feel it is time they sent this 1000 year old tradition back to the paddy fields, or rename it “puppets in a puddle”! In the middle of this old quarter is our hotel, the Rising Dragon. Tall and thin, but reasonable rooms with aircon etc and Ant is enjoying the local pho (beef noodle soup) for his included breakfast, as well as the included wifi, all for our £10.23 a night. We have grown adept at negotiating good fares with cyclo drivers, most of whom have tried to rip us off, thinking we had arrived yesterday still wet behind the ears (big mistake, BIG, HUGE!), but having said that we have had some entertaining rides in them – the wrong way down one way streets, no stopping at lights – one cyclo driver (and bear in mind there were two of us in this rather small seat plus bags....) had his momentum going so well and was stopping for nothing; we went through everything - lights, pedestrians, cars, buses, and laughed all the way! We have drunk beer with locals, enjoyed the cool oasis of the City Centre lake, we have eaten in some great restaurants (see pic) and have enjoyed soaking up the atmosphere of this frenetic but friendly city that is dragging itself into the 21st century but still has a long way to go. We have also shopped - but perhaps more restrained than you would expect. Ant bought a kite (see pic), we are looking forward to tying it out on the common when we get back. Our overriding memory will be the noise of the motorbike horns, loud, incessant but, it appears, necessary – they are a bit like a river, ebbing and flowing, and to cross the road, you just go – we feel biblical, as we cross it seems as miraculous as the parting of the Red Sea! And talking of partings and miracles, Gill finally finds a REAL Toni & Guy – and has a great haircut by the Artistic Director for the princely sum of £16!

Pedalling in the Paddies (Monday 28 April 2008)

Today we have abandoned the Lonely Planet, the tourist trail and the comfort of Hanoi and have been cycling in the rice paddies. Gill had unearthed an ancient village called Doung Lam, about 70kms from Hanoi in the Red River Delta that was over 400 years old so we decided to explore. We thought we had left behind the really loud noises of the city – and yes there were no continual honking horns, but nature decided to keep our ears attuned – the noise of the crickets in the trees was absolutely deafening, even louder than the noise of the city. There were ancient houses, temple, streets and the tomb of their favourite king ever whose name escapes us but who is seen as Superman for finally getting rid of the Chinese a thousand years ago. However today wasn’t about big sites, it was designed to get us away, we saw no other tourists. We drank tea with the caretakers of a couple of pagodas after getting one of them sleepily out of his bed as we arrived – Gill held her nose and prayed as it was served. We share rice wine with the cottage producers in their back garden although declining snake wine…. Gill helped them thresh and polish their recent rice harvest, and we now aim to become self sufficient in rice as we were given some seeds. We are glad to hear the price of rice is shooting up, current plans include flooding of both gardens! We “shop” in the local village stall for chopsticks, yet another amazing bargain at 1p per pair, they will be very useful when we eat our own harvested rice…. We took sustenance of bananas and water (there was nothing else remotely edible unless you count the dogs being barbecued in the fields wrapped in straw, to be served with a shrimp paste.) We were also offered cat – that is to eat, not as a pet to take home, at a shack in the middle of the village opposite the Mia pagoda where the bemused locals looked on. The tables were also turned – we suddenly were the object of covert photography, we were thinking of asking for 1,000 dong for each photo as do some of the harder locals. The rice paddies we visit are in a neighbouring village called Mong Phu. Cycling through and standing in the middle of the startlingly emerald green paddy fields we delighted in the sight of the young men escorting their cows to graze the grass between the fields, seeing peanuts, sunflowers and corn growing, but realising what a hard life it really is. We cycle past a cock fighting training session – vicious! Not sure which of the two almost featherless birds we would bet on if it came to the crunch. Arriving back in Hanoi and moving back into the 21st century, we stop for a favourite Highlands coffee. The people in the café were young, trendy and glued to their mobiles and obviously on reasonable salaries for here – whilst outside two older guys who would have been veterans of the American war were on duty patiently, resignedly parking and guarding the youngsters’ motorbikes and we wondered how they feel about this. Their generation was one too early. We eat in a great restaurant called “69” – the numbers form the “yin yang” symbol. We then move on to be true backpackers again and, still in the Old Quarter, go to Bia Hai corner, a small crossroads where there is a collection of Bia Hai joints. This is the local “fresh” beer, made daily on the premises. We sit on low red plastic child seats on the pavement watching the world go by and enjoy a glass each of this Hanoi speciality for 9p – our second real bargain of the day! We make new friends as we chat to two local Vietnamese guys, one a driver and one a travel agent, both with excellent English, and swap stories about life in our respective countries. We reflect on a day of real contrasts as we climb wearily the 87 steps for Gill and the 107 steps for Ant to our cosy £10 a night rooms – ready to sleep soundly. We had been out for 14 ½ hours, with steps like that, these are not rooms to “pop” back to!

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.

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….