McDonalds, McDonalds, KFC and the Pizza Hut

5am start, scenic bus trip, impressive-looking border, easy border crossing and I was back in the Western World. Well, actually, I was in China, but the border crossing was a cross into a land that was much more developed than the South East Asian countries I was coming from. For starters, the roads! Viet Nam's national highway is narrow and chaotic, but the first roads we experienced in China, from the border city of Pingxiang to the Guangxi province capital Nanning were a world apart. They were six-lane dual carriageways that were almost completely empty and had frequent tolls (maybe why they were empty). Not only did our bus have seatbelts, but there were signs on the side of the road telling you to fasten them. All the motorbike riders were wearing helmuts and in Nanning they had a seperate lane all to themselves. Another shock in Nanning was the modernity of the city. And there were several McDonalds, KFCs and Pizza Huts. Luckily though, most of the chain food shops were limited to the main drag. As soon as you ventured onto side streets you found market-style restaurant stalls where you could pick your very own fresh fish, prawns, chicken, duck, sparrows or frogs, to be killed and cooked for you right then and there.

The scenery from the north of Viet Nam, near the border, right through to our first real destination in China, Yangshou, has been spectacular limestone karst country. This scenic countryside is one of the main attractions of Yangshou.
The small city of Yangshou is great, karasts jut out, providing the perfect backdrop for the main tourist street, which is a pedestrian-only affair, packed with souveneer shops, cafes, restaurants and bars. Eating dinner in market stalls, watching lightning sillouhette the karasts, is pretty magic. But it's what lies outside the city that is the real attraction.

On our first day in Yangshou, we went on a Li River cruise (read, putter on a noisy boat). The rain, which had been falling since we arrived in China, was kind enough to stop for a short while and the mountains though the fog were beautiful... even in the rain they were amazing (see first pic). We also saw the scene that is on the China 20 yuan bill - woo hoo.
The cruise departed from a town called Xingping. We wandered around the town and surrounding countryside and soaked it all up - see photo of lady with umbrella dangling the evening's dinner - chicken, see also the pic of the back wall of the restaurant where we had lunch - quite a lot of people seem to still rever Mao. We also added to our list of wierd food stuff, outside a restaurant we saw what some Chinese tourists told us were bamboo mice, they were grey, cylindrical (I think that's a word) balls of fluff about 20cm long with big, buck teeth and looked like a cross between a guinea pig and a squirrell. One was really active and kept gnawing at the cage and hanging off the roof with its teeth, the same place also had live snake on the menu. Gotta love places where the menu's not on paper, but in cages outside. On that note, we have also added dried rats to our list (this is not an eating list - merely observing!!)

Probably the best way to see the countryside around Yangshou is on bicycle. The land around the karasts is pretty flat and you can get a pretty good mountain bike for about $1.50 per day. Riding bikes is just generally a good way to soak up the scenery and fresh air (or not - see pick of mum and a truck that was struggling with a small hill). So, on our second day, we hired bikes to ride to a place called the Moon Water Cave. To get into the cave, we went on a small wooden boat through a narrow underground stream. After a short while, it was out of the boat and walking, all of this was nice enough, but a bit la-di-da... then, we got to the MUD BATH. It was an area filled with knee deep, silky smooth mud that you could, well, bath in. There was also a man-made mud slide. After the mud, we exited the cave by walking up along an underground creek, climbing up small waterfalls. Then outside the cave there was beautiful rice paddy and karast scenery (see pic following the mud one). After washing (most of) the mud off in a waterfall, we cycled to a place called Moon Hill, it is a hill with a semicircle hole in it and a great view from the top (the next pic is looking out across the karasts, through the moon shaped hole).

Our final day in Yangshou (I could easliy have spent several more) was also spent cycling around, visiting a small town and then cycling along the Yulong River. The scenery along the Yulong (all the other pics), was, I thought, the best we saw, though this might have something to do with the fact that despite more wet weather predictions, it didn't rain, so we got a clear view of the landscape. For lunch we stopped at a place where the owners didn't speak any English. As has happened to me several times before, they took us into the kitchen so we could point out the ingredients we would like in our meal. We pointed to about five items, eggplant, zucchini etc, and I tried to explain that we only wanted one dish between us (servings in China are huge). However, they brought us out five whole dishes, each made with one of the ingredients we had ordered. I wasn't impressed, seeing it as them trying to make more money off us, as we obviously couldn't eat what they gave us (we barely managed two). But, at least it tasted good. The local specialty in Yangshou is beer fish - fish cooked in beer and vegies. I'd like to be able to say what it tasted like, but I can't. We were going to have it tonight, but we're still too full from lunch.

It will always be lao lao to me

Our final night in Viet Nam was an experience. Mum and I took a bottle of Dalat red wine and the small amount of Vietnamese currency we had left, and went to a small restaurant in the alleyway our hotel was on.
These, tiny hidden restaurants have been my favourite place to eat in Ha Noi, one in particular was a breakfast noodle soup shop that the hotel staff took me to. It was down an alley so small that I would never have ventured down it on my own, but the tiny kitchen inside served great noodle soup for about 60c.
The street that our hotel was on was lined with half a dozen small restaurants all selling the same thing - deep fried crumbed meat and fresh vegetables, all cut into small pieces and dipped in a sauce.
The food was great, but the highlight of the evening was the company. Mum and I noticed that most of the other customers were drinking, both in shots and out of glasses, an amber coloured drink that the restaurant served in plastic water bottles. Before long, three men sitting at a table nearby offered us shots. Now I'm not sure what exactly it was, but it tasted very much like lao lao - the rice wine of which Niels and I drank way more than we wanted to in Laos.
To return the favour, we gave the men shots of our red wine, which they seemed to enjoy about as little as we enjoyed their rocket fuel.
Nevertheless, the exchange of drinks continued until the men left (leaving us with their unfinished bottle). Then another table invited us over for more shots, then, we got talking to a young couple sitting at the next table (this couple were the first people who actually spoke any English). They told us that they lived quite far away, but had come to this restaurant because it is famous for its food and that we were the first foreigners they'd ever seen there. Feeling a little chuffed by all this (or maybe just all we had drank) we headed back to our hotel to prepare for the 5am bus that was to take us to the Chinese border the next morning.

Hellos and goodbyes

I spent nine days in Ha Noi, the capital of Viet Nam. This was about six days too many. From the start, Niels and I just didn’t warm to the city. It was pretty enough, with some nice lakes and cluttered little streets lined with markets, cyclos and motorbikes. But it just wasn’t Sai Gon. And we loved Sai Gon. Admittedly, the dramas with rooms (mentioned in the prevous entry) didn’t help matters much.

Ha Noi was a real turing point on my trip. It was the place from where Niels left me, to go home for five weeks, before jetting off the the UK (we will meet again, in July, in the land of clogs and cheese). It was also the place where, two days after Niels left, I met my mum, who will travel through China, Mongolia, Russia, Czech Republic and Austria with me.
It was because of all these arrivals and departures, and the need to get visas and extend visas, that I stayed in the city for so long.
Most of my time was spent in the Old Quarter, which is a busy little area of narrow streets and even narrower allyways. It's chock full of shops, which all clump together depending on what they sell, for example, shoes, toys, sunglasses, airconditioners...
The Old Qurater is centred around a lake (second and third pictures), from which, according to legend, a giant turtle rose out of the water to reclaim a sword that was lent to a king by the gods, to help him defeat Mongolian invaders. Apparently a species of giant tutle actully lives in the lake, and on an island in the middle there is an embalmed 2m long specimen that was caught in the lake in the middle of last century.
Tht turtle isn't the only thing embalmed in Ha Noi. Ho Chi Minh, the former Vietnamese independence fighter, president and national hero is embalmed in a mausoleum. This is despite the fact that Uncle Ho, who was allegedly a very modest man, requested he be cremated. I twice joined in the daily procession of thousands of people to pay him a visit, once with Niels and once with mum. Now I've just got to decide if I want to complete the communist leader trillogy by paying Mao and Lenin a visit when I visit their respective cities over the next two months.

Five rooms in five nights in Ha Noi

Room one - nice enough
The first two nights were spent in a hotel owned by the tour company we travelled with to Ha Noi. The room was nice, and we were happy there.

Room two - not so nice
But when we returned from our Ha Long Bay trip, the only room the hotel had left for us was not as nice and more expensive, so, when we were out for dinner that night, we decided to have a look at a hotel we walked past.

Room three - the breakfast drama
The room we looked at was amazing - massive, with a king size bed, beaded lamps, a large couch, high ceilings and ceiling-high windows. The rate was $10US, which was well above our budget, but they said the rate included breakfast, so we decided that could work and booked the room for the next night. We checked into the room the next day and loved every second we had in it, until we went down that evening to get the breakfast vouchers we were promised, only to be told there had been a misunderstanding and there would be no breakfast included. We were furious with what we saw as a deliberate lie to get us into the room and marched off to find somewhere else.

Room four - the sink disaster
We found a much cheaper room on the same street and booked for the following night. The next day we checked in and Carolyn went into the bathroom to have a shower. While still all soaped up, she turned off the shower and went to fill the sink up. When she tried to push the plug in, the whole ceramic sink came crashing down and shattered on the floor. What followed involved:
* The hotel staff coming in while Carolyn was still soapy, wet and wrapped in a towel.
* The staff telling us we had to pay for breaking the sink.
* Niels blasting them, saying they were lucky Carolyn didn't get seriously hurt and refusing to pay.
* Us finally deciding to pay because it was our last night together and we didn't want any more dramas.
*Niels paying them half again what they asked ($30US instead of $20) just to stick it up them.
*Us marching off down the street, Carolyn now dressed, but still wet and soapy, towards a hotel that had been recommended to us when we were in Hoi An and which we should have gone to at the very start!

On that note, if you're ever in Ha Noi, stay at Thu Giang Guest House.

One more note, when we were in the second room of the first hotel, Niels actually though the sink looked really unsteady and said to be carefull of it. The sink in our room at Thu Giang looked like it was coming off the wall too, so we didn't use it - shower nozel for everything. One of the last things Niels said as he left to go back to Aus, was "tell your mum not to use the sink either".

Old wars and older empires

Hue was the capital of Viet Nam for more than 100 years between the 19th and 20th centuries. Consequentially, lots of its main attractions feature relics from the days when it was home to emperors. The city’s other tourist pull is its proximity to the demilitarized zone, which is the area 5km to the north and south of the Ben Hai River, which was the landmark that separated North and South Viet Nam from the time when the country was divided following the independence from the French, to the fall of Sai Gon in 1975.

Our bus trip from Hoi An to Hue was one the most scenic journeys we've experienced. There were two sightseeing stops, the first at a place called Marble Mountain. We stopped there for 20 minutes, but we could have easily spent a day exploring the place. Marble Mountain is a town resting at the bottom of some jagged mountains speckled with colourful pagodas. We're not sure if the mountains are made of marble, but the townsfolk certainly get plenty of it from somewhere, as half the town is taken up by shops carving and selling marble statues of all shapes and sizes.

The road to Hue also passes through the city of Danang, which sits around a couple of vast masses of water - inlets, lakes, rivers, maybe - we're not sure. The city was ultra clean, modern and colourful, with wide roads and drivers who actually seemed to be following road rules of some sort. The scenery around Danang's water bodies was stunning. While driving along one side, we could look across the wide, dead calm water to mountains obscured by haze. Driving along another side, we were looking across at a skyline of highrises, all painted different colours - it was as if, when someone was building another block, they said to themselves, "well there's already a lime green, blue, yellow and orange, so maybe I'll go for turquoise". The colours of buildings are one thing that has really stood out across all of Vietnam - very few grey buildings.

We arried in Hue about midday and checked into the first room of our whole trip that had airconditioning (just had to add that). We wandered across the road to a cool looking cafe with its walls covered in writing - autographs, messages etc. The cafe was called Cafe on Thu Wheels, after its owner, Thu, and before we knew it, she had booked us on a motorcycle tour of the town for the afternoon. Thu's chalming, friendly and cheeky character also led to us eating at the cafe for every meal.

There were about 10 of us on the motorcycle tour, which was led by Thu's brother, Minh. Minh was always entertaining and as bad as his sister with his smutty jokes "same bananna, different colour".

Our first stop on the tour was at the oldest Pagoda in Vietnam (first pic), built in 1601. The Pagoda's monastry had been home to a monk who, in the middle of last century, drove to Sai Gon, doused himself in petrol and burnt himself alive in protest of the catholic Emporer's persecution of buddhists. The pagoda was also home to the biggest bell in Vietnam, which is only rung when the king visits (so, now that there's no king, we guess it's never rung). When a member of our group said to Minh, "so, can I ring it?" Minh replied. "No, monks very good at kung fu."

The second stop was at some bunkers built by the French during the first Indochina war. On the topic of war, Minh told us about how many of the locals lived underground during the Vietnam war, but not all of them escaped Agent Orange, and the effects the chemical had in the following years, with many children born with deformities. "But I am lucky," Minh said. "My mother did not breathe Agent Orange, so I am strong, like tiger."

Our next stop was at the tomb of one of the Hue emperors. The tomb is not just a simple burial place, but a large area with beautiful gardens and many buildings. It was built during the emperor's reign and while he was alive he used the area as an escape from his everyday duties. Minh told us that the workers who built the tomb were made to work 24 hours a day. He said that of the 4000 people who worked on the site, 1000 died. The second photo is of a pavilion in the tomb. A sign on the pavilion said the emperor used it for writing poetry, but Minh told us that he went there of an evening with his concubines to drink vodka and play cards. (He - the emperor, not Minh - had 104 concubines, but no children because he had smallpox when he was young.) The third photo is of one of the other buildings in the tomb.

Despite the great sights we visited on the motorbike tour, the highlight was when we were on the back of the bikes. In between attractions, we rode down narrow leafy laneways and past colourful incence sticks, rice, mushrooms and corn laid out on the road to dry in the sun. We also rode along tracks through rice fields (fourth picture) where we could see the local workers harvesting the rice, then past narrow canals, along which people ferried tiny wooden canoes laden with bushes and sacks of rice.

On our second day in Hue, we went on a tour to the demilitarized zone. The tour took us first to the Ben Hai River, then to some tunnels (see pic of Niels) where local people lived for four years during the war, then finally to the American war base of Khe Sahn. On the drive to Khe Sahn, we got another reality check about the horrors or Agent Orange, this time its effect on the environment. As we mentioned in the Sai Gon chapter, Agent Orange was a chemical herbicide used by the Americans during the Vietnam War to wipe out forests in order to drive out the Viet Cong (North Vietnamese communist fighters). The mountainous journey to Khe Sahn passed through kilometres of plantations of eucalyptus and pine, which our guide said were planted because they were hardy enough to grow in the damaged soil left behind after the war. She said that before the war, the area was thick jungle that was home to wild elephants and tigers.

The next day we were to catch the night bus to Ha Noi, leaving us a final day to spend in Hue. We decided to visit the city's citadel - against the recommendations of Minh, our guide of two days before, "citadel costs 55000 dong, if you don't go there, you can buy five Tiger Beers".

In the end, we really liked the citadel, which is the ruined capital of the emperors (final three pics). Much of it was destroyed by bombing during the war, and the ruins that are left pale in comparison to many others in South East Asia, but the place was peaceful and quite surreal. There was hardly anyone around - for much of our time there we didn't see another soul - and most of the gardens in the citidel seem to be used as a plant nursery. There were large, quiet ponds covered in water lillies and, in one courtyard, a couple of elephants.

Hoi An – home of tailors and 30 cent beer

We had been looking forward to Hoi An for our whole trip because we had heard stories from countless people about the cheap, tailor-made clothes they had bought there. We arrived with a big shopping list, and left with even more.

We arrived in town at about 6am, following an overnight bus trip from Nha Trang. After checking in to our hotel, we headed into town for breakfast, and, while we were waiting to eat, were approached by a girl asking us to go to her mother’s tailor shop to have a look for some clothes. Normally we’re not too fond of being approached by people trying to sell us stuff while we’re eating, but the girl’s manner was so nice, and after all, we were there for clothes, so we agreed to go with her.

Hoi An is a pretty little town of narrow streets lined with yellow-rendered buildings, usually with brown roofs and often covered in flowering vines. The town is UNESCO World Heritage listed. Literally every second one of those little yellow buildings houses a tailor, all with enticing displays of clothes.

But the place we were taken didn’t have any shop front or displays. It was inside the central market – a large warehouse housing 200 tailors and packed to the roof with materials of all kinds (see pic). We were sat down and given thick, colour photocopied European catalogues of the latest designs. Before we knew it, we had ordered, between us, three Italian wool suits, two winter coats and a dress. (With every shop having great references and the same catalogues, we decided that shopping around was futile.) All we had to do was pick the design and the material, then we were told to come back the next day for a fitting.

Pleased with our orders, we wandered out to explore the town. On the river front, we walked past a series of places with signs out the front saying “fresh beer 3000 dong”. Three thousand dong is less than 30 Australian cents, so, as it was still really early, we decided we’d have to come back later to suss out whether this was true.

One might think that the clothes we had ordered that morning would be more than enough to satisfy our shopping urges. But one would be wrong. We ended up ordering two pairs of leather shoes each, a shirt and pair of cashmere casual pants for Niels and another dress for Carolyn. Everything we bought was tailor-made to measure, of good quality, and the total price for everything came to less than the price of a good factory-made suit in Australia. We both swore to come back one day with empty suitcases.

The rest of our time in Hoi An was spent having fittings for our clothes, drinking 30 cent beer (yes, it was true), wandering the town and eating fresh seafood. Heaps of Hoi An’s restaurants (alas, not the ones with 30 cent beer) have set menus featuring four to five courses of seafood or vegetarian dishes for between $4-6AUS per person.

Niels also spent a lot of time trying on his suits and staring in the mirror, pedantically checking for faults (see last pic). He remains convinced that there is something wrong with the sleeves, despite the fact that since then we have seen countless other suits, in, shops, magazines and on TV news reporters that look exactly the same.

Carolyn is now wondering how on earth she is going to carry all her clothes, including a pair of knee-high boots and a very large wool winter coat all the way to the UK.

Beach holiday

Nha Trang is the diving/snokelling and party capital of the Vietnamese coast. Like Mui Ne, it was a place where we really felt we were really on a holiday. It is located on a wide, calm bay with white sands and turquoise blue water. We read a sign that boasted it was in the top 29 most beautiful bays in the world. We guess this means it ranks 29.

In our first evening there, we enjoyed our first major food splurge on this trip. We paid a massive $25AUS for a beautiful meal with wine at The Sailing Club, located right on the beach. (See first pic).

We spent two days in Nha Trang on boat trips. The first was a real party boat. The $6US fare included snorkelling, seafood lunch, entertainment from a make-shift boy band and red wine and cigarettes (for those who smoke) on a floating bar.

The fun really started after lunch when our host said we had to wait half an hour for our food to settle before we embarked on the floating bar. During the half hour, the boat's crew pulled out a guitar, tambourine, microphone, two bins, a scrappy old cymbal and bass drum. They entertained us with a mix of Vietnamese songs and old classics like La Bamba, and Let's Twist Again. They had us all up and dancing on the table and one of the highlights of the performance was when an old Vietnamese bloke in a small wooden canoe rowed over to check out what was going on. After a bit of a gawk, he rowed off, dancing in time to the music.

The musical entertainment was followed by the floating bar. Our host introduced it, saying, "Red wine, free. Cigarettes, free. I am also free, but only for ladies, but that's ok, because see him (pointing to a non-English speaking crew member) he is free for men. He is Lady-Boy."

The floating bar involved the host seated on a small, round floating contraption with benches holding a bucket full of red wine bottles and small plastic cups. We all floated in our own floating rings, drinking wine and having a good laugh.

Our next stop was a beach resort where you could go jet skiing, paragliding or play beach volley ball (See pic of Niels in action). The rental price for the ball was cheaper than the rental price for a seat in the shade on the beach, even after we paid the entrance fee to the beach.

Our second boat trip, two days later, was devoted to the underwater world. Niels was keen to go scuba diving as his last dive was three years ago in the vicious cold of the South Coast. Carolyn came along and went snorkelling. Niels thought it was the best diving he'd ever done, with vast amounts of tropical life, 24 degree celcius water temp (at the bottom) and 18m visability. The snorkelling was also amazing.

Most of the rest of our time in Nha Trang was spent on the rooftop balcony of our hotel (the view in the last pic is from there - we could also see out across the sea), enjoying good food, good beer, some good, and some very bad local wine.

A rather sureal place

Dalat is a very strange place. At about 1400m above sea level, it is blessed with a pleasant climate, still warm, with hot days, but not the unrelenting, sweltering heat of most of the rest of Vietnam at this time of year. As such, it is a popular tourist destination for the Vietnamese.

This makes for a distinct holiday vibe, which is stengthened into something quite sureal by the town's physical features. It has a lake lined with perfect green grass and adorned with swan-shaped paddle boats. Vietnamese tourists are dressed in their winter woolies (beanies, gloves etc) even though it is 30 degrees. The buildings are generally colourful and many are very European in design, reflecting the town's French influences. There are flower gardens everywhere and at night the city centre comes alive with markets and food stalls. There is also an Eiffel Tower. (So far in South East Asia, we have also seen an Arc de Triomphe and Notre Dame!!??!!). In the first picture, you can see construction in the foreground, followed by flower gardens, then little shack houses, then colourful highrises.

So, because of the Vietnamese national holiday, it was with some trepidation that we left Mui Ne for Dalat. When our bus dropped us at the hotel they get commission from in Dalat, rather than the hotel staff's usual show of falling over themselves to offer us rooms, they told us that they were full.

For the next hour, we trudged around town looking for somewhere to stay that we could afford. For the hour after that, we trudged around town looking for a place to stay, whether we could afford it or not. "How dare they have a public holiday - what's with that?" "I want to go back to Mui Neeeeeeee."

Finally, we settled on a hotel for $35US for the night. This might not sound bad by Australian hotel standards, but when our budget for the day for the two of us is $40US and the most we'd paid for a hotel before that was $10US, it hurt. What was even worse was that the hotel wasn't even nice. "I want to go back to Mui Neeeeeee."

What was nice was a little restaurant next to our hotel. They had the best noodle soup we've had so far for less than $1AUS. That made us feel a little better.

What also made us feel a little better that evening was grazing the night markets. Little stalls are set up selling skewers with meat, roast sweet potato, hot corn, dumplings, warm sweet soy milk and bagettes filled with all sorts of good (and usually unidentifiable) stuff. There was some good entertainment when Carolyn was having a glass of soy milk and someone spotted some police. The stall or its seating was obviously an illegal set-up because we've never seen such pandemonium, and a stall pack up so quickly. We're sure the pack up was unnecessary. From what we've heard, such illegal matters can usually be solved as easily as giving the cops a couple of smokes.

On our second night, we changed to a much nicer and cheaper hotel. That made us feel better too. We were entertained by the owner's stories about how his wife was pregnant, yet he was getting morning sickness (he told us this to explain a dash to the toilet).

Colours of Mui Ne

On our last night in Sai Gon, we heard some slightly worrying news from Tran, the owner of
Sax'n'Art. When we told him we were heading to the beachside town of Mui Ne, he told us
we might find it hard to get accommodation because a national holiday was coming up. The
national holiday turned out to be a celebration of the anniversary of the reunification of North
and South Viet Nam. It was going to coincide with our visits to Mui Ne and Da Lat - the two
biggest holiday destinations for the people of Sai Gon.

On arrival in Mui Ne, our fears looked to be unwarrented, as a hoard of motorbike riders
swarmed us, offering to take us to various hotels with rooms for $US5 a night. When you're
backpacking, a good thing to remember is that if something seems to good to be true, it
probably is - this was the case here. All the $5 hotels were either full or had heavily inflated
prices because of the holiday. Finally, we found a hotel that was willing to offer us a hotel for
$6 for that night and $10 for the following. This turned out to be one of the biggest scores we
have had on the trip. The hotel was more like a beachside resort and we had the best room in
the place, it was the only second floor room with a window facing the beach through the palm
trees - sweet.

On our one full day in Mui Ne, we took a motorbike tour (each of us on the back of a
separate bike) to the local attractions. This turned out to be one of our favourite days of the
trip. Mui Ne is a world of colours, and flying past colourful sand dunes, the azure sea covered
with colourful fishing boats, white sands, lush palms and bougainvilleas was amazing. Even the
graves in the cemeteries were colourful.

Our first stop was at the white sand dunes, which rose above a cool blue lake covered with
water lillies. Some local kids had boards we rented to slide down the dunes and into the lake.

It was at the white sand dune that Niels' Adies sandles met their fate - the sand was so hot
that it melted the glue that held the strap on. Now Niels has earned a bit of a reputation as
McGyver (not sure of spelling). The Italians, Andrea and Emi christened him this for his clever
use of knots and straps when attaching his pack to a ute in Cambodia. He's continued to live
up to this with his amazing ability to dream up inventive ways to hang our mosquito net from
seemingly impossible places with nothing but a piece of string. So, when the Adies straps
came unstuck, he used first the camera strap, then the drawstring from his backpack, to tie
the soles of the sandles to his feet to stop them from getting scorched on the sand. But when
we got back to our drivers, they put Niels' reputation to shame. They found small pieces of
wire on the ground and threaded them through the shoes, effectively sewing the straps back
on - we love those guys!

Another highlight of the day was the view across the bay at a fishing village (third pic). In the bay, about
800 colourful boats were moored. Boats in Vietnam are typically made of wood and painted
bright blues and reds - the sight was spectacular. The boats are moored in the bay all day,
sailing out to sea in the evening, then returning in the morning with their catch.

The final stop on our tour was the Fairy Stream (last two pics) - a creek we walked up, through palms and
colourful gourges erroded into crazy formations from red and white sands.

The beach that our resort fronted on was our favourite place to hang when we weren't
galavanting around on the back of motorbikes. There were deck chairs to lie on and shells to
admire. Like everything else in Mui Ne, the colour of the scallop shells was such that they
looked almost artificial - bright yellows, reds, purples, oranges and pinks. There were also
heaps of big cone shells and inside one we found the biggest hermit crab we've ever seen.
Another charming thing about our beach was the fact that in the evenings it was crowded, but
not with tourists, with locals, some enjoying the beach, but most collecting shellfish and
preparing to leave for the night's fishing.

We ate fresh seafood for almost every meal in Mui Ne. The highlight of this was on our
second night, when we were relaxing with a bottle of Vietnamese wine (or two) and crackers
and cheese on our beach. A little old lady approached us and tried to ask us something in
Vietnamese. After several minutes of confusion, we decided she was asking us to watch her
stuff for her. We said yes. It was the best mistake we've ever made. She came back a short
time later with a bucket of hot coals and it turned out that we had agreed to have her cook us
some fresh scallops, all for the price of AUS$2. Bargain.

The heat is on in Saigon

After not really liking Bangkok, we were a bit apprehensive with what we were going to think of Vietnam’s Ho Chi Minh City (Saigon). It was going to be by far and away the biggest city we had been to since Bangkok and we had heard mixed reviews, which included that it was more hectic and dirty than the Thai capital. We had also been told by some people on the last day of our Mekong Delta tour that the cheapest accommodation was likely to be $US10+, which would hurt our budget.

Our bus dropped us on De Tham Road, which is the Kho Sahn Road (backpacker district) of the city and our tour company offered to mind our bags for us while we searched for a room. Right outside the office we were approached by a woman who asked us if we were looking for a room.

“Yes, how much?”
“$8 with aircon and hotwater.”
“How much for cold water and a fan.”
“5.”
“Okay, we’ll have a look.”

Because of the cheap price and the location right in the centre of the city, we were expecting the room to be a bit of a hole. So, with apprehension we followed the lady down a tiny allyway, into a typical Saigon building (narrow and tall) and up several flights of steps. When she opened the door of our room for us, we didn’t hesitate. “We’ll take it.”

The room was small but classy, with a huge TV with Sky and a balcony overlooking shabby rooftops – let’s just say we were happy!

That evening, we went out to find dinner and found that at night, Saigon transforms into a vibrant, bright place, with shops open late, heaps of restauants and bars and colourful market-style eateries – just a great vibe.

The next day we went to the War Remnants Museum; a place dedicated to the Vietnam War. It was quite shocking to see some of the displays of the effects of Agent Orange on the people who were exposed to it and their children. Agent Orange was a chemical dioxin the Americans (and, I guess, Australians) sprayed over the country to kill off the vegetation and drive the Viet Cong (North Vietnamese Communist fighters) out of hiding. Since the war, its horrible side effects have been felt by both the Vietnamese and Westerners. One of the worse effects is the physical deformities and mental disabilities that have appeared in the children of those people who were exposed to the chemical.

The rest of our days in Saigon were spent wandering the town and shopping. Among our purchases were two pairs of fake Diesel jeans, two fake Ralph Lauren Polo tops and one pair of genuine Adies (Adidas is just a poor immitation). The Adies lasted three incredible days until they were melted by the Mui Ne sand dunes.

On our second night in Saigon, we discovered the Sax’n’Art Jazz Club. Needless to say, Niels was in heaven. He got to sit in with the band for two nights and made a great friend in the owner, Tran Manh Tuan. Tran was Vietnam’s first musician to study at Berklee College of Music in Boston. He was awarded a scholarship to study there and now returns to the US for regular concerts. After two months on a road lined with South East Asian karaoke, Niels found it great to be able to finally play with such a great musician in such a great environment.

The Hello Town

To get from Phnom Penh to Ho Chi Minh City (Saigon) in Vietnam, we decided to go on a four-day tour that would take us through the Mekong Delta. The first thing the tour taught us was that we were REALLY glad our whole trip wasn’t a tour. Much of the experience was fun, and it was cheaper than it would have been to do it independently, but we couldn’t shake the feeling that we were on a school excursion and/or we were a herd of cattle.

The first day, in true South East Asia fashion, started by us going to the place we were meant to be “picked up from”, waiting for half an hour, being escorted to another place, waiting for another half an hour, getting in a bus that took us to another place, waiting for another half hour, then getting into an airconditioned (yeah right) bus that finally took us out of Phnom Penh to a town on the Mekong, where we got on a boat that took us to the border.

We had heard from a couple of people that the Vietnamese can be really pushy and aggressive when trying to sell you something and our first experience lived up to this. At the border, while our passports were being processed, our guide told us to follow a woman who would take us to a place where we could buy lunch. Next to the place we were directed to was another restaurant, whose owners were calling out to the group as we went past. The two of us decided we’d eat there to share the business around since we were part of a big group. As we made towards them, the lady who had been guiding the group to her restaurant approached us angrily saying we couldn’t eat there. When we asked why, she said that when our guide came back with our passports she wouldn’t be able to find us if we weren’t in the correct restaurant. When we pointed out that we would be within sight and able to see when our guide returned, she contined to get more angry and called for back-up from within her restaurant. After several minutes Niels and I walked off to the place next door.

Our second observation on Vietnam was much more pleasant. There were heaps of children around the restaurants and they were all playing and acting like children, which didn’t happen in Cambodia.

After our guide returned with the passports (and found us without any confusion) we got in another boat to continue down into the Mekong Delta towards Chau Doc, where we were to spend the night. This trip was facinating. The delta is one of the biggest food producing areas in Vietnam and the two main industries and fish and rice. The river banks were packed with narrow shack-like houses built on stilts, behind them were rice paddys and the river itself was busy with boats and fish farms of all shapes and sizes. It was really interesting for us to see this busy, chaotic stretch of the Mekong after having experienced the peaceful, sparcly populated stetches in Laos and Cambodia. We tried not to think about all the garbage and waste we’d seen enter the river all along its length.

The guesthouse we stayed at was in a town a short way from Chau Doc, at the foot of the Sam Mountain. The mountain is the only rise on miles of flat river plains and every evening it is teeming with locals – the majority are walking up it for their evening exercise, while others, dressed up in their finery are on family or romantic outings to watch the sunset from the summit. We didn’t make it to the top cause Niels’ genuine Cambodian Birkenstock sandles were giving him shocking blisters, but we saw some great views of the surounding countryside. One of the most facinating parts of the walk was the genuine friendliness of the people. Our travels so far, especially in Cambodia, had taught us that when locals say “hello” to us, they’re generally trying to sell us something. Not here. Everyone really just meant “hello”.

After a change of shoes, we headed into the town for dinner, armed with some useful Vietnamese phrases our lovely guide, Sun, had taught us, namely, “thankyou” “hello” and “can I please have some rice porrige” (the same as hello, but with an upward inflection). The little town we were staying in is home to a couple of spectacular temples and, as it was a Saturday, the town was packed with people who had made their weekly pilgrimage to worship. Consequently, the town was packed with people and had a real carnival atmosphere. The sky at dusk turned brilliant colours and that, with the soaring, pastle towers of the temple, made for a sureal atmosphere. We didn’t see a single other Westerner and everyone kept saying “hello”, which, as we found out when we tried to order dinner, was the only word of English they knew.

The next morning we headed into Chau Doc to meet up with our guide and a group from Saigon who were doing the tour in the opposite direction. In this crazy world that is backpacking, it’s amazing who you keep running into and in the Saigon group we were lucky enough to run into Chris and Alex, two guys we travelled with for about a week in Laos. Consequently, if you ask Niels anything about what we saw on the tour that morning, you’ll probably draw a blank cause he spent the whole time catching up with them (it was REALLY great to see them). But I did pay a bit of attention to the tour.

The highlight was a visit to a fish farm. There are heaps of these floating on the river, with the family living on top and a cage full of fish below. The farm is a great example of how the industries in the delta are linked together in a way that maximises resources and minimises waste. The fish are fed a mixture of rice husks, dead fish and salt, all of which is cooked on a fire that burns more rice husks. The ash from the fires is bought by the farmers for fertiliser.

The farms provided an opportunity for Sun to demonstrate her sense of humour:
Sun: “Why do you think there are so many fish farms built in the river here?”
Us: Blank expressions.
Sun: “Because they can’t build them on land.”

The third day’s excursions consisted of visits to some floating markets and a rice vermacilli making factory. The floating markets are spots on the river where people converge in their boats every morning to buy and sell their goods (see second and third pics). There were boats brimming with fruit and vegies of all kinds, each one advertising its wares by hanging an example of their product, for example a pineapple or an onion, off a tall pole. There were also small boats floating around selling coffee and softdrinks.

After the tour we were dropped off in a town called My Tho. My Tho is the closest delta town to Saigon and when we had asked a guy on our tour, who had been there the day before, what it was like, he had said “touristy”, so when we set off to explore in the late afternoon, it was more with a feeling of obligation that any real enthusiasm. But we loved My Tho, it had canals lined with shacks, a chaotic, atmoshpherioc little market place and little side streets with small restaurants. At night, the riverside area was packed with locals - it was so nice to see the people just out, enjoying the evening. The whole time we only saw two other Westerners. The next day we joined the tour again and quickly saw why the guy had labled the town as “touristy”. The tour took us to the market we had been to the night before, but this time, instead of teeming with locals, it was filled with crowds of day-trippers from Saigon. Next we headed for a tour of some of the delta islands, where we visited a coconut candy factory, played with a large python, stuck our hands in bee swarms to get honey, drank honey-flavoured and coconut-flavoured rice wine, saw a local traditional music performance and paddled through narrow palm and fern lined canals (see last pic). Then, off to Saigon!