The High Life

Claire & I treated ourselves to a couple of drinks at Bangkok's highest bar - on top of the State Tower, 64 flights up there's an open air bar and restaurant. We spent the evening watching fireworks exploding over Bangkok's lights. The evening was 5-star all the way, and very far removed (vertically) from our usual lifestyle.

Octagenarian

These are photos from the King's birthday on Wednesday. I'll come back & put comments up later.

Bye Bye Sins

Claire & I are in Bangkok again and will be until the week before Christmas, I'm enjoying the chance to be back here again and as an added bonus take in a couple of national festivals that I missed last time.

The first was Loy Krathong festival, which was last night, the other is the King's birthday which is in a couple of weeks.

For Loy Krathong people gather to launch small banana-leaf, flower and candle/incense boats onto lakes and rivers, the boats are supposed to contain the individual's sins of the last year and after floating them down the river one can start afresh again (on a whole new set).

We launched our little boats and then enjoyed soaking up the atmosphere on a calm, relaxed evening.
We went to the main park in Bangkok and watch hundreds of families gather, pray and launch their boats in a loving manner. There were rich families and poor families, many who were obviously economic migrants to Bangkok from the poorer parts of Thailand. Also in attendance were young Thai students, and the occasional too cool for school crowd. I like the fact that these traditions are still alive for all people and don't attract the cynicism they would in Australia.

After a little time the lake had hundreds or thousands of candles floating upon it.

Beach Review

Well, we managed to make our way through a good number of Thailand's islands, those that remain will have to wait as there were storm, typhoon and other nature related problems.

Here's the low down, from best to worst:

Ray Lay beach - easily our favourite. The west beach is a lovely small bay enclosed by limestone caste cliffs on either end. The water's clear and warm. The development is low-level and back from the beach so is unobtrusive. Ray Lay is a very narrow peninsula, the East side is the least spectacular but has some very nice accommodation at more affordable rates that the West, and it's less than a five minute walk the West beach, we stayed here. Apparently there's excellent rock-climbing here and other delightful beaches too - we, however, failed to explore as we delighted in plonking down on west beach morning and afternoon (skipping the noon sun) and just unwinding. (The photos are from Ray Lay).


Lonely Beach, Koh Chang - not so lonely but still very nice. Most of the good things as with Ray Lay but not quite as good.

Long Beach, Phi Phi - a really long beach, white sand and warm water. The development's a bit intrusive.

Long Beach, Koh Lanta - a lovely setting, felt deserted and undeveloped because the resorts were low lying. Unfortunately rocks were everywhere under the water.

Main beaches in Phi Phi and White Sand Beach, Koh Chang - don't bother, over developed and there's lots of rubbish too.

For the record, we didn't get much sun but it was warm, didn't rain and we got to the beach every day. Very relaxing.

Islands, Spring Rolls, G&Ts, but Where's the Sun?

After a few days in Bangkok catching up with friends, massages and shopping we've headed south to the islands for some long-looked-for sessions on the beach reading, eating spring rolls and drinking G&T's.

It's been fun and very relaxing so far as we've taken in Ray Lay Beach and Ko Lanta, and though it's been overcast its been warm and mostly calm. We head to Phi Phi this afternoon where we're hoping to see the sun and continue to implement our relaxation plan.

The Great Escape

After a couple of quiet days in Pokhara - highlighted by the, err, 'quirky' International Mountain Museum - we arrived back in Kathmandu on the 13th October, with not much left to do before our flight on the 22nd.

A few trips to Thai Airways later we'd concluded that there was no way our flight could be moved forward, everything flight between Kathmandu and Bangkok was booked up until Christmas. On the 16th we decided to role the dice and try to get on a flight by stand-by. We and 20 other people waited for 4 hours only to watch one person get on the flight. A group of 5 people had been turning up at the airport for the last 4 days, sneaking one person at a time onto a flight.

The next day we were down at the Thai office to check if our waiting list flight had come through for that day. The office computers were down, we waited until 11.30 but with no information. The only way to find out was to go to the airport, if our flight had moved we'd lose our booking on the 22nd. A rapid walk back to the hostel for our bags, frantic arrangements, and then taxi ride (fingers-crossed to avoid traffic jams) got us to the airport at 1pm, the flight due to leave at 1.50pm.

We hadn't made the flight via the waiting list and there were 40 people ahead of us on the waiting list, but we thought we'd stick it out for an hour and started chatting with a couple we'd met the day before. The attendant called all business class tickets to the counter, whilst another attendant quietly came round and asked Claire, I and the other couple to approach the counter - he'd recognised us from the day before. Giddy with excitement we tried not to get too far ahead of ourselves. When the bags disappeared out the back, and the boarding pass was in my hand we proceeded through customs and security with gigantic smiles.

The Jomson Trail

Claire & I have just arrived back in Pokhara from a 9 day trip walking in the Annapurna ranges - a trip commonly called the "Jomsom Trail". After 9 days I can now eat two large plates of curry, rice and daal for lunch, am at my lowest weight since I was 18 and have concluded that a beard is an irritating adornment, even if Claire likes it - plus I might be mistaken for a French terrorist if I keep looking like this (so Claire thinks):

We walked from Pokhara - Tikedungha - Ghorepani - Tatopani - Ghasa - Mahrpa - KagBeni - Mukthinath - Jomsom and flew back to Pokhara. We generally left our guesthouse by 7.30 and arrived between 1-4pm depending on the distance to be covered. On a map here: http://www.alpaca-voyages.com/nep-map-kaligandai-jomsom-trek.gif

To tell the tale...

Pokhara-Ghorepani (2 days)

The walk was through a lush, tropical region still at a relatively low level - up to about 2,600m at Ghorepani. From time to time we had a view of a snow capped peak but for the most part saw steep hills of forest and rice paddies.

Poon Hill (dawn, day 3)

Awaking 1 hour before dawn we were quickly on our way up nearby Poon Hill on a perfectly clear morning, our walk lit by a half-moon and countless stars. From the crest of Poon Hill we looked upon 16 peaks in the Annapurna and Dhaulagiri ranges, all snow capped and crystal clear that morning. The mountains changed from dim-pale, to golden and then startling white as the moon light gave way to dawn and then dawn to day.



Ghorepani-Kagbeni (4 days)

Starting from Ghorepani the first half-day walk was what I expected each day to be- walking along mountain ridges with constant views of snow capped peaks. We undertook a full-day descent to Tatopani from Ghorepani which hurt the knees, a soreness that was thankfully relieved by the natural hot springs at Tatopani.

From Tatopani the walk changed significantly as we walked along a dry river bed - in an immensely wide valley - for three days. The landscape changed from tropical, to alpine, then to an arid bareness, the hills devoid of trees and a dusty wind blowing.

Along the way we passed through many small towns and were passed in turn by many sheep flocks heading towards Pokhara for the upcoming festival - a big family bash in which each family gathers, slaughters a sheep at home and eats well for a week. The mountain towns are also supplied by foot and hoof and we were also constantly overtaken by people carrying immense loads and donkey trains plodding along.

Kagbeni-Mukthinath

Climbing half our day's 1,110m ascent in the first hour we soon left behind the dry river bed of our last 3 days' walk. We walked near the ridge of an arid hill, to our left the valley fell steeply away to a river below before rising steeply to the opposing hill's peak. In front of us Annapurna's icy high pass, at 5000m's, was flanked on both sides by mountains reaching 7,000m's above sea level. The mountains slouched like Elizabethan lords, clouds forming feathers in their caps. A band of light clouds of dazzling silver formed their belt and the same brightness illuminated their boots, the river below.


After several hours walk we turned into Mukthinath Valley. Jarakoth town halfway up the valley was brown and white walls. The buckwheat crop, just ready for harvesting, was burnished pink. The trees had either turned yellow or were still green, the colours requiring no more sophisticated description or simile to capture their colour. At this closer distance the mountains were no longer feudal lords but rough diamonds forced from the earth and uncut by the hands of man.

I have only seem David to rival the valley's beauty, an unlikely comparison but one that came to mind without prompting. I will carry the memory without being able to communicate it because of the laws of light and photography and because Virginia Woolf wrote correctly that attempting to truly describe natures' colour stays the pen because of the impossibility of the task.


We walked without talking and hardly encountering others (finally free from the frequent tourists, guides, porters, carriers, policemen, soldiers, workmen, shepherds and sheep flocks, donkey drivers and pack-trains, and the occasional jeep, motorbike or helicopter). At that height there was no running river, mammal, bird or hidden insect providing background noise. When we walked I heard our footsteps and my breathing, when we stopped I heard my heart and our breathing and finally silence, something rare in my life.

Maoist, Mobs & Traffic Jams

We boarded the bus in Chitwan at 9am for our six hour ride back to Kathmandu. The first three hours were smooth sailing and we were right on time. Then the bus stopped. Stopped for longer, then the motor switched off.

"Maoists have created a road block ahead, there's a 30km traffic jam. It's best you go get some food and water in the town we just passed" announced the bus attendant. Claire and I hopped off the bus in the middle of nowhere and quickly purchased a few samosas and bottles of water. The novel experience of being caught up in Nepal's political maelstrom was interesting for the first half-hour, but when the engine started again after 2.5 hours we were pleased to be on our way again.

The bus began to roll, and then stopped, again, 500m's down the road. Again the engine was switched off, I think I groaned as I wondered what'd happened to the negotiations that had opened the road for 5 minutes. But this time the problem was different. One of the lead buses, perhaps in a hurry to get to Kathmandu had knocked down a child, and whilst the kid was ok (so I was told) the villagers had formed a mob and trashed the bus which was now blocking the road. We again dismounted the bus for what turned out to be a second 2.5 hour wait.

Finally, the bus began to roll towards Kathmandu again, and as we passed the nearby town we could see the wreck of the bus - smashed windows and blackened insides and all.

As the entire day's traffic moved towards Kathmandu it was of course slowed and as night fell we were a long way from our guesthouse. About 8.30pm we finally got to our guesthouse, about 5.5 hours late. We relayed our story to the proprietors, who nodded and said "Yes, it happens all the time in Nepal."

Rhinos

We've spent our first week in Nepal and taken in quite a bit.

The first few days were spent in Kathmandu taking some of the local sites, including the Durba (Palace) square and its temples and the nearby town of Patan, also for temple viewing. I'd put up a picture, but we forgot to take the camera on both trips (yes, boneheads both of us).

After that we went to Chitwan national park in search of the endangered black rhino. When we arrived it was raining, and continued to rain the entire next day and night - hence we cancelled our planned walk in the morning and decided to take an elephant in the morning as well as in the afternoon as planned.

In still pouring rain our elephant took off (well, lumbered anyway) and after three hours in the rain and forest we'd managed to see two deers, two boars and two pheasants; not exactly what we were looking for. Soaked to the bone we deliberated all day as to whether we'd cancel the afternoon trip, but finally pragmatism took us once again onto the elephants back. On our second attempt, success - we saw four of the rhinos including a juvenile. Feeling quite like David Attenborough we returned to the hotel with gigantic smiles.

Mt Everest for Breakfast

Claire & I flew from Chengdu, China to Kathmandu via Lhasa, and the view outside was spectacular - we passed the Himalayas on a blue skied day and were able to see the summit of Mt Everest. It was something that I never thought I'd see.

Front Row

Front row, right on the half-way line. That's where our tickets were for the Australia v Canada clash in the Women's Football World Cup. That's right - Claire & I had timed our city and date to perfection (a complete fluke) so that our last night in China coincided with the soccer - we got our tickets a week ago and have had World Cup Fever ever since.

A typhoon in Shanghai prevented the corresponding group fixture occurring, and hence a delay in the Australia match for 24 hours - about 7 hours after we land in Kathmandu. Reluctantly we gave our prime tickets to some other patrons that could afford the delay and trudged away from stadium.

The third disappointment caused by weather - the closure Tiger Leaping Gorge and lack of views from Mt Emei Shan's summit - completed the triumvirate, and hopefully accords us a clear run in Nepal.

We fly to Kathmandu tomorrow for a very different month to the time we've spent in Asia.

Sichuan Style

Since leaving Kunming on the 11th we've been based in Chengdu, capital of Sichuan province, and making day trips in Sichuan and beyond (Xian for the Terracotta Warriors).

First up was Chengu's Panda Breeding Centre - home to about 60 pandas. Arriving at 7.30 to see the feeding time (apparently after feeding they just sleep all day) our first sighting was at the adult enclosure. Four pandas sat around chewing bamboo, watching the tourists and looking for all money like four guys sitting on the couch watching football and drinking beer. They also happened to look like four guys in panda suits sitting eating bamboo shoots for the tourists. The next viewing was the new born cubs, sleeping in their incubators and encouraging much cooing from the passing tourists.

The Xian trip is described in the last entry.

A three day trip took in the giant budda in Leshan and Mt Emei Shan. The giant budda certainly is that - it's over 70m's tall and is carved into an alcove on the side of the cliff looking over the nearby river. We got a good view of budda's head, but were daunted by the apparent 4 hour queue of Chinese tour groups to take the down to his feet.

From Leshan it was a short ride to Mt Emei Shan. Emei is a shade over 3000m's high, and amazingly has a stone path and stair case running from it's summit to the bottom, covering about 35kms on the way down. We awoke early on the first day and took the 2 hour bus ride to the cable car near the summit and then squashed into the cable car with several Chinese tour groups to the top. On the summit, the mist and cloud was so thick we could see only several metres in front of us. From there was began to walk the long stone path down. When walked on mountain spurs we could see five mountain ranges to the horizon, and when in the valleys look up steep mountain faces a 1000m's above. We stopped on one cliff edge and looked across a valley to the opposing cliff face, far below we saw a bird of prey circling on the air currents. Six rotations with the updraft carried it passed us and over the mountain top above us.

The first day we walked for nine hours, and very sore came to the monastery we planned to sleep in. Several hundred years old and made of stone and wood the monastery is still an active place of worship. Leaving the shower in the evening I heard a rumbling I took to be a generator, it was actually the Buddhist prayer drums. At 5.30 the following morning we were woken by drumming, singing and chanting.

Walking the second day we took the quickest route to the bus stop, missing a few monasteries we'd planned to visit, due to the pain in our legs. The stone path and steps had taken a toll on our muscles and joints that we hadn't expected. We walked for about 30kms the first day, and descended about 12,000 steps, which proved to be too much. (Estimate: we descended 1700ms, each step is 15cms high).

The walk also provided us with a solitude that we'd forgotten about since arriving in China. The cities are crowded, and the tourist attractions are flooded with Chinese tour groups. On the second day, as we walked from isolation to the bus stop, the population density gradually increased until the monastery near the entrance was swamped by tour groups, those too lazy to take the serene walk on the mountain. We fled the groups and crap souvenirs as quickly as possible and were able to reflect on the joy of walking through the forests without the bustle and hassle.

Aggressive Clay Pots

In a bid to see one of China's big wonders Claire & I flew to Xian to see the Terracotta Warriors. The one-day trip built a lot of expectation, but was worth it. Initially the scale of the site is impressive, thousands of models in their original setting, but what really impressed me was the minutiae of the individual warriors as each is different. Standing in their ranks it's possible to see the varying heights, postures and features of each warrior - most looking humanist and fearsome, though we picked out several that looked stylised and a little surreal in their design.

Five different warriors (ie a general, an archer etc) have been pulled out of the dig-site and placed behind glass allowing you to get within centimetres of them. Up close the detail is even more impressive as you can see the braiding in their hair, buckles on their armor and ruffle in the pleats of their cloaks.

Xian too is a daunting city, the one that most made me feel that I was in a totalitarian state. The buildings are humongous (especially the local government bureaucracy building), the streets are wide, and public spaces are dauntingly large. For the first time I've felt small and isolated in a Chinese city.

From Yunnan to Sichuan

After 5 days in LiJiang (a protracted time due to the closure of close-by Tiger Leaping Gorge) we were glad to head out of the ancient city (approx 800 years old) and the "Disney China" feeling that it can attract. Early in the morning lit-up at night it's very pretty, but otherwise can be extremely full of Chinese tourists and every shop seems to sell the same, cheap crap for tourists to buy. We were glad to end 'musical guesthouses', as every place but the last night had enough of a problem to compel us to move on the next day. The 'highlight' being a quite nice guesthouse which turned out to be across the road from the town's nightclub strip which made sleep impossible. In changing hostels late at night we did, however, manage to sneak a peak in the daggiest clubs and pubs I've seen since Frankston.

From LiJiang a day-long bus ride took us back to Kunming to connect with the train overnight to Chengdu in Sichuan province. The train ride, 16 hours of it all up, was saved by the amazing scenery from the window. We rode along the river for kilometres, with views of dozens of gorges.

Some were tight, rising vertically from a narrow river to the mountain's zenith. Others were wider, allowing space for a rice paddy either flat or sloping up the mountain side, a living grown, so long as the river maintained its banks. Mist either clung to the gorge sides or else stole the mountain tops in its deep swathe. Down many of the cliffs small streams were busy creating new gorges. My favourite gorges were intimidating. Wide, raging, chocolate rivers, vertical, hard cliffs that I want to call granite but which weren't, and mountain tops lost to the eye in mist. Our buildings and bridges sat over nature, not replacing, engaging or enhancing it.

The Big Disappointment

The bus dropped Claire & I in Qiao Tou after a 2 hour ride through mountains, valleys and over rivers.
"Are you here to walk the Gorge?"
"Yes"
"It's closed"
Tiger Leaping Gorge, one of the key attractions that brought us to China, is off-limits. Constant rain in Yunnan over the last week had resulted in a fatal landslide and the closing of TLG. Whilst it's hard to dwell on the disappointment given others lost their lives, the walk was something we were really looking forward to.

Instead we headed back to Li Jiang, the second historic/preserved city in Yunnan we've visited after Dali. Despite trying to re jig our plans it looks like we're stuck here a few days, before continuing with the adventure. The pics are of Li Jiang.

Best Day Yet

Claire & I have just spent our best day of the holiday (i think) in Dali - a historical/preserved city in Yunnan Province. The town is beautiful, and full of buildings that give justification to the cliched motifs of many Chinese restaurants back home - ornate carved doors, swooping tiled roofs and dragons and lions abound.

We awoke late and after wandering around town for breakfast rented bicycles to explore the surrounding countryside. A few kilometres down the road a few frescoes on the side of the buildings attracted us into a small village. The village had cobble-stoned streets, brick buildings dating back hundreds of years and Chinese people dating back nearly a hundred years going about their daily, agricultural lives. Our presence appeared to disturb little, other than to raise hello's and nihou's from the people. We wandered in and out of several similar, small villages which remind me of the farming villages I've visited in Northumberland, UK - except full of Chinese people. This is one of the few experiences I've had on the trip that I felt I could actually see another way of life, unpolluted by tourism.

The whole region holds a very large population of very big, ugly spiders. Around all the fields (corn mostly) they had strung up giant webs, and as the fields and towns blended together, they were throughout the towns too. The power cables provided the basis for giant webs ruling along the roads and overhead containing hundreds of spiders each.

After our ride lunch beckoned and we settled on a dumpling-place run by two very smiling patrons. The dumplings were amazing, better than I've ever eaten before, and had us contemplating whether we should go back for more today or wait till tomorrow.

Finally in the afternoon we strolled into the city's garden, which was the picture book Chinese garden complete with marble bridge. What especially appealed was the use of the garden by the Chinese inhabitants of the town who were playing marjon, chess and drinking tea with their friends.

One One-Party State After Another

Crossing the border from Vietnam into China once again proved the divide that a small river can create. From the Vietnamese side we left behind ramshackle French-colonial buildings and wide streets for Soviet-esque cement buildings hunched over narrow streets in China. Equally, English disappeared but so did the rapid-fire, unsolicited requests to spend money.

Immediately China stood above us, four storeys high and filled with signs indecipherable to us. A short walk took us to the bus station and our transport to Kunming, the capital of Yunnan province. Unfortunately the only transport option was the 'sleeper bus', 'sleeper' in inverted commas because there wasn't much sleeping done. The sleeper bus is essentially a slightly-tall coach, but instead of seats there's small beds arranged in three rows running the length of the coach, and bunk-bedded two high. At the beginning of the trip the beds seemed just long enough for Claire and I, but shrank the further we got into our 14-hour trip. Whilst the map indicated we'd take a highway to Kunming, the bumping and swaying demonstrated a more circuitous path of 'short-cuts', some of which seemed to take the bus through plowed fields. Anyway, we finally made it to Kunming and fell asleep at the guest house.

The people, too made us instantly feel like we were in China. Very willing to approach us for a chat, Chinese sentences quickly role off their tongue. They have a different attitude too, within 1 hour of being in China we saw our first angry, public dispute and have continued to see them since. Thankfully, however, their attitude towards tourists is much more relaxed. After a month of being cajoled, summoned and pulled by Vietnamese hawkers its a pleasure to just stroll through town without having products thrust in our face. There's far more smiling amongst the Chinese than the Vietnamese.

Sapa

Up in the north-west of Vietnam is a small town called Sapa. Surrounding the main town are stunning views and 5 minority (the Vietnamese term) peoples. For two days Claire & I trekked through the valley and had some interaction with them - though it was predicated upon commercial interests (we now have more souvenirs than we want). The scenery was spectacular, with high cliffs along to our left and right, and villages and rice paddies spread along the cliff faces.

The H'Mong people in particular seemed to take a liking to Claire, making her presents of grass horses and a fern tiara.

Another Claire

Back home in Melbourne there are multiple Claire's, such as "At Home Claire", "In the Studio Claire" or "Attending an Exhibition Opening Claire", each with their own set of accessories and activities and . Since coming away I've discovered another I didn't know existed - "Adventure Claire".

Adventure Claire treks through rainforests and flies over their canopies, fords rivers, kayaks, scales waterfalls, feeds bears, rides elephants, enjoyes motorbikes and always manages to maintain her smile.

For a morning walking with the H'Mong people in northern Vietnam she even managed to become Princess Adventure Claire, being crowned with a fern tiara.

How Long Bay

From Hanoi Claire & I spent three very relaxing days floating through Ha Long Bay. In a renovated junk boat we gently cruised in amongst the islands, stopping for swimming and kayaking along the way. On the first afternoon we were able to take the kayak under a small cave in one of the limestone islands into an internal bay, entirely surrounded by sheer cliff faces.

On our final day we (Claire, I and two friends met on the trip) ate at the only free table in a restaurant full of a group of very drunk Vietnamese. Rice wine, beer flowed and the group got into their party tricks, one singing Vietnamese opera and another drinking beer through his nose. One of the group, a lady, came over to practice her English and explained that the group were army and government officials celebrating the conclusion of a training course.

During our discussion, the singer came over and our translator explained he was a high ranking military official, and that he'd like to toast with us. Glasses and a bottle of rice wine quickly appeared. Our host drank a shot to each of ours, then broke into a tune each verse of which was interspersed with another round of shots. After he'd proved he was a big man by downing 7 shots in 5 minutes with the foreigners we made a polite exit before the second ranked man decided to do the same.

Hanoi

Hanoi's proven to be my favourite city in Vietnam so far. Once out of the peak tourist area, it's possible to see life 100 years ago. The French colonial era buildings stand out unlike most cities, and unlike Hoi An it's a living city rather than a museum (Claire's analysis). Life goes on on the small streets much more clearly than elsewhere and walking around gives the impression of participating.

The central lake in Hanoi has a particularly mystical fell, with its deep green colour, pagodas built on small islands, willows hanging over the edge and completed with mist. It's integrated into the city and you can see Hanoians really use it as part of their daily life - to meet, play chess, or hold hands.

After Hanoi we're going to Ha Long Bay for a few days, then Sapa in northern Viet Nam, after which we cross into Yunan province in China. It might be quite a while before the next post.

Saigon/Ho Chi Minh

Claire & I have just spent a week in Ho Chi Minh City/Saigon and the surrounding area.

I, and I believe most visitors, was struck first by the traffic. Crossing the street's a hair-raising experience, in which hesitation is even more costly than when running between the wickets. Everyone says "just keep walking, don't look", but I don't think it's as straight forward as that.

Being back in a big, big city reminded me of my time in Bangkok, and I've a feeling Saigon will look more like Bangkok in the next 5-10 years (more high-rise buildings, more cars). I really enjoyed pulling up a seat at a cafe or street restaurant and watching the world go by, though the touts could get a bit much.

From Saigon we did a trip out to the Cu Chi tunnels - the underground complex dug by the Viet Cong during the American war for defense, attack, and living. Though I tried I didn't manage to crawl down the tunnels as claustrophobia got the best of me. A glance down their dark, tight confines was enough to give me an idea of what the living conditions would have been like.

After that we took a tour through the Mekong Delta, the highlight of which was the floating market. From a collection of boats farmers sold their goods to locals each day, the produce for sale on each boat indicated by tying an example to a bamboo pole on the boat's prow. Though there were plenty of tour boats taking in the market, it felt good to see something that's naturally a part of Vietnamese life and not adulterated for the tourist market.

Get Your Motor Runnin'

So to get off the conveyor belt Claire & I joined a three-day motorbike trek travelling from Nha Trang our destination was Dalat via Vietnam's central highlands. Even though we were only passengers, there were still many renditions of 'Born to be Wild' abounding.

This was my first time on a motorbike - not counting a few rides on scooter-taxis in Bangkok. Initially trepidation reigned, but I quickly settled in and by the last day was taking photos as we rode along. That said, there were a few nervous (as I unsubtly but evocatively describe them as 'arse-clenching') moments when the gap in the traffic looked just a little too small for our bike. The trip certainly gave me an understanding of how people drive in Vietnam, which seems to involve weighing up the speed of all vehicles, size of the vehicles and space on the road when determining if you should back off or go ahead. At one point we overtook a truck and two motorcycles into an oncoming motorcycles so my driver had gauged 5 vehicles speed and the available space. Just.

The countryside provided a rolling background of hills (with winding roads) and rice paddies (with straight roads) that we alternatively crawled and raced along. On the first day we repeatedly passed hills still deforested by agent orange 40 years later.

The region had been flooded by a typhoon a week ago (hence the 36 hours of rain in Hue/Hoi An) which had left the rivers swollen and waterfalls we visited barely a 'fall' at all, rather a lunge off the cliff edge.

The trip also provided the opportunity to spend time with our guides, likely one of our few opportunities to spend a concentrated amount of time with a Vietnamese person on the trip. It was good to get a glimpse into how they see the world. It's also been interesting to compare the industrious, prosperous Vietnamese (a capitalist wet-dream in a communist country) against the passive, impoverished Laos.

Tourism Conveyor Belt

After Lao's dishevelled systems, Vietnam's tourism machine came as a bit of a shock. A week and three cities showed how easy travel is here, and how easy it is to just be moved along. You wake at the guesthouse (located in a tourist area: guesthouses, food, beer, internet), get on the prearranged bus, get dropped off in the tourist centre of the next city, go on the organised day tour, spend money on the arranged objects and then get on the next bus.

On a similar note, the selling of 'Asian-esque' products is one that worries me. Shops here (and throughout South-East Asia) are filled with factory made products with Asian motifs. I just hope that in producing these mock-Asian products, the skills, reasons, traditions and creation involved in the development of the original models isn't lost.

Nha Trang

Nha Trang was our first beach experience in a while, and was suitably rewarding. Blue waters, golden sands, palm trees and more cliches than you can point a stick at made for a relaxing break. On our second day in Nha Trang we took a day trip around several islands, which was worth every cent of the $6 we paid for it.

Hue and Hoi An

Our first two stops in Vietnam were Hue and Hoi An.

Hue's a former capital, home to the no longer forbidden, Forbidden City. Though much of the former palace complex was ruined in the American war several key buildings still stand and occupied a morning for us. After Lao's quietness, Hue was a nice transition into Vietnam - more bikes, more people, excellent food and much to spend money on. It took Claire 4 hours in the country to purchase a new blouse - not quite beating her 3 hour record set in Bangkok.

Hoi An, a UNESCO protectorate, and home to a thousand tailors operating in the former colonial town. The old town's protected and technically doesn't allow motorised transport within its precincts. Strolling around town is a look back 150 years (nearly). One evening we sat on the porch of a large bar and pretended to be French colonialists retreating to a place of safety, a reminder of home, amongst the incomprehensible orient.

We also took the opportunity to have some clothes made. It only took three extra skirts to realise the correct answer to the question "Just one more?" is not to purchase just one more, but rather to back out of the store quietly.

Out of Lao

A couple of bus trips took us out Lao and into Vietnam. The Lao immigration office was a poor cement building, the Vietnam office and welcome arch large, expensive and a touch tacky.

Here's my final reflections on Lao:

1. The countryside, national parks and natural attractions are beautiful and unspoilt. This might be more to do with poor economic development, but for now there's lush forests, jagged limestone hills, and stunning waterfalls. Hopefully these things are protected.

2. The people in each town seem to have a different attitude, swinging from delightful to recalcitrant depending on the city.

3. There's not much in the cities.

4. The food is really, really plain.

5. Travelling in a developing country's let me see a different side of life, which I really appreciate.

Waterfall of the Mind

Down in Southern Lao Claire & I found one of the most beautiful spots in South-East Asia. Waterfall Tad Fein comprises two rivers meeting the edge of a cliff a few metres apart and plunging 120ms to the valley floor. We stayed in the resort overlooking the falls for two nights, the sounds of crashing water lulling us to sleep and views of the waterfall available from our balcony. It was cold to the point that we had jumpers on, and mist rolled in and out of the valley and surrounding forest through the two days we were there.

Our first afternoon provided full views of the waterfalls, we just watched quietly for a while, and then tried feebly to put our response into words to each other. Claire has brought a book with her entitled Mountains of the Mind, which explores peoples' reaction to mountains specifically and landscapes generally. In short, it proposes that our interpretation of a lanscape is dependent upon our personal and cultural backgrounds. Watching the water plummet I fit firmly into the modern category - awe at the sublime, sublime being an inarticulate-able combination of the beautiful and terror.