Un-Thaid

As this trip has progressed our early ports of call have begun to feel an age away while at other times we can't believe that three months have already flown by. Whether we like it or not however this post (albeit rather short and photo-light), marks the halfway point for bamrtw and we can't help but feel it's downhill from here. After twelve weeks in hot, polluted Asian cities we head next to beautiful Sydney for the middle of the Australian winter. For the first time on the trip we will fly south of the Equator and, having just about gotten used to being an object of curiosity and/or a mark wherever we go, are looking forward to the anonymity of countries which, while further from the US than ever, will be more familiar than anything we have seen to date.

Before heading down under though there's time for this last missive from Thailand - the so-called "Land of Smiles."

We flew back into Bangkok, still glowing from our fantastic experience in Vietnam, quite late at night and postponed our arrival into the city proper when our unsuccessful attempt to avoid an expensive cab ride saw us spend the early hours of our first day circling the airport complex on a baggage handlers' shuttle bus. As we felt we knew the city fairly well after our first two visits when we finally arrived we headed to our usual hotel only to find that it was full. This was the first time this had happened to us and given the number of places in the vicinity we weren't too worried - at least until we'd woken up another four receptionists to be grumpily informed that they too were out of space. Wondering if there was some sort of holiday on that we didn't know about I volunteered to leave my bag with Megan at our most recent strike-out and see if I could find anything else down one of the narrow, underlit alleyways nearby.

Since our first day in Thailand we had joked about the policemen who, while numerous and visible, seemed to share an obsession with having every spare milimeter of fabric tailored out of their clothes. The result is that most of them look more like male strippers in 'police uniforms' than the cops we are more used to seeing and up until that night we had found them far from intimidating. There's something about 2a.m. and a lack of streetlights though which meant there was nothing funny about the two policemen who suddenly appeared out of the darkness and demanded I freeze! The sad fact is that bagless Brits stumbling around Bangkok that early in the morning are usually probably up to no good but after a quick frisk down my new friends decided I didn't pose an immediate threat and let me go. No longer in the mood to be picky we found a room a street away from Khao San a short while later and crashed.

A Thai policeman - a serious threat to lost Englishmen and weak seams:

Khao San road, if you've seen "The Beach," is where Robert Carlyle first accosts Leo DiCaprio and for better or worse has been the hub around which most backpackers have based their Indochinese adventures for 25 years. Although this was our first visit it was obvious that the area was gentrifying very fast; boutique hotels outnumber the true flophouses, everyone speaks English and there's even a Starbucks nestling in next to the pad thai and fake DVD sellers! We felt a little out of place amongst the western crowd which seemed to be a three-way mix of middle-aged hippies back with their teenage children, college students in search of cheap drinks and full-moon parties and the 'real travellers' doing their best to make clear they're only there briefly en route to Cambodia or Laos. Unfortunately however our gastronomic excesses in Hanoi had given Megan our first bout of traveller's tummy so we decided to make the best of it, relax and start thinking about Australia.

In between regular infusions of street food and fantasizing about the imminent cold weather we did manage to knock off two of the major Bangkok sights which had eluded us on previous visits. On our second day we visited the sprawling Grand Palace complex which featured more of the spectacular architecture we'd seen at Wat Pho but on an even more impressive scale. One of the highlights was the emerald Buddha (made of jade), which is Thailand's most revered relic. We also saw (but were not allowed to photograph), several of the cermonial thrones which are used in Thai coronations and state celebrations.

The next day we braved the weekend market which features over 10,000 stalls and is apparently the largest open air market in the world. Open air is probably misleading as most of the stalls were arranged along tiny roofed alleyways which we had a lot of fun exploring. Highlights were definitely the puppy market, finally finding a reasonably priced second hand bookseller and stumbling across a stall run by the Blue Mountain Boys - surely Thailand's only Western Bluegrass band.

So that's it!

• we're halfway through, have caught 11 flights without a delay and, shockingly, we've only lost 2 books, a T-shirt and a fleece between us
• despite lofty ambitions and six-months off work we still haven't read any of the classics
• we've developed a deep aversion to jungles
• we've found that cheap countries are not as cheap as they are supposed to be but this can be offset if you are the only one of your friends to have given up their well-placed apartment
• we've so far travelled over 29,000 miles and visited 9 countries (one of them communist) but by far the most stressful and maddeningly illogical government agency we've encountered was US customs
• we have learnt that the word for "bottle" in Vietnam is the same as the word for "man" so until you have the accent sorted it is important to take stock of where you are before ordering
• we have eaten every variety of dodgy street food we could find across three different continents and the only time either of us gotten ill was the day after we tried cooking for ourselves
• we're having the time of our lives and we're still married!

P.S. in a hopeless attempt to delay our return to work we have allowed google to 'monetize' this site which explains the ads you will not have noticed at the very bottom of the blog. These ads appear to change depending on where we log on from - presumably in an attempt to tailor themselves to the readership. We just wanted to make it clear that we did not condone or approve this message:

Sapa Valley

We were so pleased with ourselves when we bought such cheap train tickets - who needs travel agents! We just marched to the train station and got them ourselves! - until we arrived at the overnight train and realized we'd booked upright seats instead of sleeper berths. We thought there surely must be some mistake, but were assured by the conductor that those were in fact our seats. So we spent the next 8 hours in the presence of loud Vietnamese children and bright lights while trying to sleep in our chairs - not the best start.

However, when we arrived in Sapa (via an hour and a half bus ride after departing the train), all was forgotten, as the sun was just rising over one of the most beautiful mountain towns I've ever seen.

We checked into our hostel, had some pho, slept, and then wandered through the steeply pitched streets among H'mong and Dzou tribal women trying to sell us bags, blankets, skewers of meat, and sticky rice in banana leaves. The most aggressive hawkers were the kids, but they were too pretty to be annoying.

After a while of taking in the views, we sat down for dinner and noticed all the groups of Vietnamese diners gathered round communal hot pots. They piled tons of uncooked meats, vegetables, and noodles into bubbling broth filled with mushrooms and spices, and the whole thing looked amazing and delicious. We tried not to stare as we lamented not having any friends in Sapa, as two people was clearly not enough to justify ordering a huge hot pot. After cheering ourselves up with a couple of bia hoi, we headed home.

The next day we hopped out of bed to start a mountain trek, the main activity for visitors to Sapa. It began as a steep downhill paved sidewalk to the village of Cat Cat where more tribal people tried to sell us their wares and we saw demonstrations of looms and water powered rice mills. The views were absolutely spectacular, with the brilliant green rice paddies carved into vertical mountainsides and several small waterfalls and streams , so we decided to continue the trek. The next village, Sin Chai, was an easy walk away, and with the tourist hordes completely thinned out, we decided to press on. Of course, the next thing we knew, we were hopelessly lost. After our jungle hike in Thailand, we'd promised ourselves we wouldn't do it again, but here we were, in the pouring rain, peering into another dense jungle with no sign of a trail in any direction.

We trudged for hours through chokingly thick underbrush and steep riverbeds, regularly stepping into 8-inch thick mud holes and encountering a total of 3 houses. The H'mong villagers we met didn't try to sell us anything and instead stared and giggled when we tried to ask for directions to a road (any road!) - both sure signs that we were well off the beaten path. As difficult as the going was, we saw some gorgeous waterfall and forest views that most travelers don't get to see, as well as dozens of piglets, puppies, chicks, and water buffalo, all of which in retrospect made for a rewarding experience, but at the time we were just both afraid we'd have to sleep in the woods!

Finally, after clinging to rocks and crossing a couple steep waterfalls, we saw a clearing overhead and scrambled up the wet rocks - literally climbing up and out of a waterfall - to a road! Construction workers about 20 yards away witnessed the whole thing, drop-jawed - I doubt they'd ever seen a couple of white people emerge soaking wet from the rain forest in that location before. We smiled and started the long walk home, when after about 15 minutes, we came across a minibus full of tourists that had pulled over for a photo op. After a few minutes of pleading with the driver, we had a free ride home! We were wet, freezing, and very dirty, but so happy to see civilization again.

Once we'd cleaned up and gotten warm, we rewarded ourselves with a nice dinner, seated by the window so we could watch the world go by, and again gazed with envy at the locals enjoying their hot pots. Next things we knew, there was a knock at the window, and we looked up to see our German friends from the Halong Bay boat! They were meeting up with the English couple from the boat (who also happened to be in Sapa) for drinks, and invited us to join. What a great surprise! We joined them after dinner at a pub filled with H'mong girls, in their traditional clothes, playing pool and checking their email - quite a sight - and had a lovely evening. Even better, we made plans to meet up the next night for a big hot pot dinner. Score!

Apparently deciding our jungle hike wasn't enough adventure, we opted for a motorbike the next day and hit the open road to see a bit more countryside. Ben proved to be a quick study on the scooter and before long we were zooming along the Tram Ton Pass and taking in even more stunning views than we'd seen before! I'm pleased to have no particularly stressful events to report from the ride - it was a gorgeous sunny day and the ride was absolutely perfect! We went out 40 km to the town of Lai Chao, had a bowl of pho, and went straight back, reluctant to press our luck.

By this point we'd gotten in touch with our other Halong Bay friend, the Berkeley PhD student, by some fluke also in Sapa, and entire group successfully reassembled, set about on our hot pot dinner. It was all we'd hoped, chicken, beef, fish, tofu, greens, noodles, and other goodies all dumped in by us at intervals and then fished out into steaming bowls of soup - absolutely amazing and just a really fun way to have dinner. The rice wine and bia hoi were a perfect complement to a great evening.

Our last day in Sapa we felt the need to take in even more views, so we climbed a landscaped paved mountain trail lined with gardens and exhibits - much more civilized than our previous rainforest expedition. Again, the scenery was stunning, and we had a lot of fun taking in the sights, which included an ostrich pen! Unfortunately, this hike was rather short, as we had to catch our bus to the train station which would return us to Hanoi.

This time at the train station, we were relieved to discover that our tickets were for a sleeper, so at least half our ticket-buying efforts had been successful! We got settled in and washed up for the overnight ride, when our two companions joined us in our 4-bed cabin. One was a waitress we recognized from the H'mong pub in Sapa, who was happy to see us, and the other was a Vietnamese artist and photographer who had a cowboy obsession. When he learned I was from Texas, he got so excited and in his very minimal English, expounded the virtues of Clint Eastwood and country music. We cracked up when his cell phone rang with the Lonesome Dove tune, backdrop to every B-western shootout scene, as his ringtone. He was a devoted fan! When the porter came by our cabin with drinks, he insisted on buying us tea, and then for a couple hours he entertained us with a mix of country music and Louis Armstrong, played on his phone. It was such a bizarre and uniquely Vietnamese experience, us with our traveling companions, neither of whom spoke much English, but who were unfailingly generous and open, thrilled to share their lives and interests with us. We can't get over the friendliness of the place.

Back in Hanoi, we had an extremely food-filled final 48 hours in Vietnam. Reluctant to miss out on anything, we had lunch at the well-known Highway 4 restaurant, home of the famous catfish spring rolls which we will definitely attempt to recreate at home, and then headed straight to Ho Chi Minh's mausoleum. Unfortunately, we hadn't realized the tomb is only open for 3 hours in the morning, so we missed our chance to see Uncle Ho, and opted instead for the nearby Ho Chi Minh Museum. It is definitely the strangest museum in the world. We saw the usual and expected collection of photos and letters, but then there are the symbolic exhibits that attempt to convey grand themes of humanity with representative objects, such as giant fruit and a life-size model Ford Edsel crashing through a wall. Few captions were in English, so we were left to interpret for ourselves the meaning of a brick-and-streamer volcano and a documentary with the Carpenters' "I Know I Need to Be in Love" as background music.

That evening we treated ourselves to what has become a monthly fancy dinner, this time at the Green Tangerine, situated in a beautiful 1929 French colonial home and home to absolutely amazing French Vietnamese fusion deliciousness. We had an incredible meal, and I arranged to have candles and singing accompany our dessert in celebration of Ben's birthday the next day! The waiters went all out, turning off the lights and the fan so as not to blow out the candles, but Ben thought they were closing down and was about to complain to one of them when I had to remind him that someone had a special day coming up and should just wait to see what was coming. He was convincingly surprised and pleased with the birthday cheesecake.

Our final day in Vietnam contained one of the biggest highlights for me - we had a cooking class! I've been looking forward to a cooking class for the entire trip, so we finally made it happen at Old Hanoi restaurant, and it was absolutely perfect. We had signed up for a group lesson, but it turned out no one else had, so we received a private lesson with alovely 20-year-old chef named Phu, who is the tiniest person I have ever seen. She took us to the market and explained which kinds of rice paper were for different kinds of spring rolls, showed us new herbs and spices, and then walked us back to the restaurant. The whole class was in the restaurant courtyard at an outdoor table, away from the heat of the kitchen, which gave the class a very relaxed atmosphere and really enhanced our experience. We chopped our own herbs and stirred our own sautees on the hot plate, and eventually produced our own spring rolls, royal rice, marinated grilled white fish, and ginger and sweet potato pudding. I really feel like I learned some new techniques and ideas, while having so much fun, for which I am so grateful to our incredible teacher!

We had to leave Hanoi that evening, and have since been in Bangkok, preparing to leave Southeast Asia and the first half of our trip. Our experience in Vietnam was absolutely stunning, eye-opening, and overwhelmingly positive. I would have to say it's been my favorite country so far, and the one to which I can't wait to return. I'm so grateful that someone of my generation can feel so warmly toward a country that was an enemy not long ago, and it has made me think about how the world will change for the next generation. I can only hope the changes continue to be so dramatic and positive.

So long Halong!

After the sensory overload of Hanoi we decided to take a break and head for what is probably Vietnam's most reknowned tourist attraction - the spectacular limestome formations of Halong Bay. While we generally prefer to try and explore places on our own we knew this would be difficult in this case (we are carrying everything except a boat), and so we booked ourselves onto a two-day junk tour. For $58 each this would turn out to be spectacular value and one of the best decisions of our trip so far.

Our trip began with an air conditioned bus ride through the rice paddies to the south of Hanoi to Halong city where we checked in at an enormous dock full of junks and picked our way through the porters and supply canoes to find our boat.

On board we were very pleasantly surprised with the quality of the accomodation with our private cabin boasting a nice ensuite which rivalled most of the hotel bathrooms we've seen so far. With so many boats belching diesel fumes we were initially a little worried about how crowded the harbor itself would be but as soon as we pulled away we found ourself in open water and began to relax and enjoy the beautiful scenery.

Lunch was the second very pleasant surprise of the cruise and set the bar for the next 4 meals all of which included several beautifully prepared seafood dishes and as much rice, bread, coffee and fruit as we could eat.

The only slight disappointment of the trip was the weather though the steady drizzle did mean that we got to visit two enormous limestone caves and a floating fish farm which I think most people would have opted for over the scheduled swimming (jellyfish dodging) and sea kayaking anyway.

After cruising away the rest of the afternoon and circling through the remarkable islands we put the anchors down and settled in for a great evening of seafood and local wine with our fellow passengers including 2 very interesting German guys, an American girl about to start her PhD at Berkeley and a young English couple who got married just a fortnight before us.

The second day was more of the same though this time we did break out the sea kayaks and, once we found a jellyfish free area, had a quick dip.

From Halong city we headed back to Hanoi for a break before our next expedition. We used our first afternoon to get our final suit fittings and headed out in the evening in search of some short ribs which had been recommended by our new German friends. Fortunately the restaurant also served copious amounts of our beloved Bia Hoi and when we'd finished dinner we found ourselves drinking next to three local guys - a train conductor, a younger chap who worked for LG electronics and a guy whose main roles seemed to be to grin widely, shake my hand every ten minutes or so and ensure that no-one was ever, ever without a beer. The language barrier was difficult to surmount and while occasionally frustrating it also worked to our advantage when we mistook the frequent toasts to sainted national hero "Uncle Ho" as being to "Alcohol!" and responded enthusiatically in kind. We ended up talking and gesticulating long into the night and learnt that the younger guys' dad fought and lost a leg in the war. As Megan mentioned though it was clear to us though that not only were they not upset to meet Americans (or American residents) in their country, they were grateful for the opportunity to demonstrate that, whatever lingering resentments older generations may harbour, younger Vietnamese care only about the future.

By the time our new friends finally had to weave away on their scooters we had run up a sizable bill but to our amazement they insisted on paying for everything including our blow-out dinner which we'd finished before we even met them. Not wanting to offend them by refusing their generosity we felt we had no option but to thank them profusely and hope that an opportunity presents itself to pay their kindness forward.

Unfortunately the next day was to be the hottest and muggiest of our two stays in Hanoi but, determined to press on, we dragged ourselves off to the Museum of Ethnology via the mercifully air-conditioned and very cheap local bus system. We thought that as we had decided to head to Sapa in the far north of the country next, this would be a good introduction to the 'minority peoples' (the Vietnamese PC term) that make up much of that area's population. While the exhaustive (and in the heat, exhausting) exhibits contained too much information to process in one visit they made clear what an incredible patchwork of ethnicities, languages and ways of life we had to look forward to. It also served as a reminder of just how many modern national boundaries are Western constructs with little impact on the groups of people they are supposed to divide. While some of the tribes highlighted number only a few thousand, others can apparently be found, with their distinct traditions and cultures, throughout Indochina. Our favorite exhibits were the 'romantic' wood carvings (life size versions are on flickr if you're into that kind of thing) and the reconstructed houses showing the diversity of not-only construction techniques but also social organization.

By the time we left I was a sweaty mess and with a long trek to the train station ahead of us and no shower in sight we began to fantasize about the air conditioned sleeper cabin on our overnight train. Would we have it to ourselves? Would there be a basin where we could sponge off and change clothes? Would we be able to get a good night's sleep and arrive in Sapa bright-eyed and refreshed? Sadly, the answer was no on all counts - but that is another story....