Hanoi (Goodbye to Vietnam)

From our luxury trip in Halong Bay, we headed back to the headaches and intensity of Hanoi. The air pressure is heavy and the streets are loud and massively over-crowded. Hassle follows you and pounces on you at every corner. The phrases "Motorbike?" or "Fake Rolex?" merge with the constant tooting of horns to become background noise after a while. We hid in an internet cafe supping coffe and blogging for most of the day but managed a couple of laps of the lake in an attempt to do some sight seeing. It's crazy, old people meet to chat or perform their exercises or Tai Chi and young lovers canoodle and hold hands whilst gazing out over the lake. In the midst of the chaos it really is an island of carm and humaity.



The old quarter was however, too much. The narrow streets are jammed with bikes, honking and blasting while women carrying yokes laden with fruit either hassle you to buy or failing that ask if you'd like a picture of them for a dollar. Beth panic-bought another dress late that evening just in case Vietnam really was the cheapest country on Earth and we headed off for our last dinner in Vietnam.



It was with a very heavy heart that we left Hanoi the following morning, Vietnam really is the most incredible place. The people are so wonderfully friendly and resourceful. It's a beautiful country with enough intrigue and a battered enough past to make it fascinating yet the Vietnamese harbour no grudges and are rushing, arms open, into a new World that seems to be embracing them. It's genuinely touched us and we've both learnt a lot from Vietnam and her people. I'd urge all to visit but then it'd just become another tourist haven like Thailand, so don't. In fact, ignore everything I've said for the last month.

Halong Bay

From Sa Pa back to Hanoi we splashed out and took the funky 'wooden train'. Or more realistically, the normal train that had some wood panelled cabins. Once in Hanoi we again made straight for Handspan Tours and went through the now obligatory bargaining to get ourselves a reduced price for a tour to Halong Bay. It couldn't have worked out better if we'd tried. Because we were wanting to go within the hour they put us on a huge Chinese style 'Junk' by ourselves.
Just the four of us on this highly posh boat with two members of crew for each one of us. It was brilliant. We felt like lords & ladies of the sea. The boat itself was something straight out an Agatha Christie novel, all dark wood and rattan seats. The crew served up an impressive lunch while we gulped down glasses of chilled white wine and sat on the roof marvelling at our luck and gaping in wonder at the truly mesmerising karsts that sit like silent sentinels in the perfectly still blue water. I can safely say that it was one of the true highlights of our trip.







En route we stopped at a cave, (a popular tourist stop), which we all entered a little begrudgingly as we wanted to spend as much time as possible on the boat. We soon changed our minds however once we'd entered the monstrous cavern illuminated by coloured lights. It was vast. There's a real humbling sense of scale that washes over you when cnfronted by such huge natural things like this. You feel so tiny and insignificant. This cave had lain undiscovered for an eternity, how many more like it exist beneath our feet. It looked for all the World like a set from a 'James Bond' film or 'Journey to the Centre of the Earth'. I half expected to see Doug Maclure being chased around by a highly unconvincing giant lizard, or stage hands wheeling fake boulders or complicated bits of machinery back and forth. We've become so used to seeing these vistas in films through CGI or constructed as sets by highly talented designers but it's only when you see them first hand and created completely naturally that you really pause to draw breath.



Back on the boat we decided to dress for dinner, (naked dining is always so off putting), and crack open another bottle of white. This turned into another, then another and then another as we buggered about teaching Huong, (our guide), the finer points of cheating at 'UNO'.
The following day we left our big boat behind and headed off on a smaller vessel to try a spot of kayaking. Sophie & Simon had one up on us as they had given it a go in New Zealand so they were raraing to go. Beth & I were nervous, (it's not exactly something we were desperate to try), and just a little hesitant when it came to actually getting in the kayak, (especially given Beth's unswerving ability to fall into water at any given moment), but once we got going we had a whale of a time. There were a few gripes along the lines of, "Why aren't you paddling Ben?", "No. Left then right Beth. Left THEN right.", "Steer Ben, there's a huge boat coming!", but after a brief stop to re-adjust my position and fiddle about with the rudder we cracked it and stormed off into the afternoon. We kayaked through the most beautifully peaceful and still waters looking at the coral and azure blue fish just beneath us. We popped into small bays under archways worn away by the sea and we paddled leisurely through floating villages whilst dogs barked at us. It was great. We wanted to do it more but sadly our day came to an abrupt close.
Unfortunately that night we weren't able to stay on the boat and ended up at a rather huge and utterly souless hotel on Cat-Ba Island. It really was plop. Nice rooms and everything but after the majesty of our own private boat...
Dinner again was good as was the decider in our 'UNO' championship but it was rather sad to think that it was our last night with Sophie & Simon. They had another two days kayaking planned whilst we had to head back to Hanoi for our onward trip to Hong Kong.
They joined us for brekkie the following morning and we said our goodbyes. Beth & I had our wonderful boat all to ourselves on the way back, we felt like Lord & Lady Bumrush to quote a friend, but it fely strangely empty without our travel buddies.

Sa Pa

Just thought we'd start this post with a lovely pic of our friends and travelling companions Sophie & Simon. They're terribly sophisticated as you can see.



The two characters you see above became our travelling companions for the next week or so and the arrangements worked out fantastically. After a flight to Hanoi we were able to book a four berth sleeper cabin to the mountain town of Lao Cai, the end of the line and jumping off point for Sapa, thus avoiding sharing with strangers. As always in SE Asia making the arrangements was seamless although a whole cabin wasn't available when we booked. This wasn't a problem though as the ununiformed chap who tried to steal our tickets at the gate was in fact exchanging our seperated berths for a single cabin. We were all highly excitable by this point especially as Beth narrowly managed to escape having the credit card swallowed by an ATM, (she swears it was in there for a full five minutes with no hint of return). The cabin itself was pretty good and quite spacious considering it had four of us in it and after watching Sophie get lary on two cans of Tiger beer and making progressively more and more silly noises whilst playing 'UNO', we finally went to sleep in relative comfort. When we arrived in Sapa we made a beeline for the tour agents who were surprised that we wanted to head straight out onto a two day hike that very day.

This walk was completely awesome, (meant in the very British way & not the overused US way). The views of surrounding mountains and layered paddy fields, soon led into mountain paths and we felt like we were completely immersed in the 'real' Vietnam.





There are many hill tribe villages in this part of Vietnam, most of them living in the traditional way as they have done for the past 100 plus years. The only difference being that they obviously rely heavily on tourists for their income and don't let you get any peace. Even up here in the mountains of Sa Pa there was no escape from the women selling shite.
We walked and chatted and passed through villages of different tribes, the differences between them are highly noticable, even to us uninformed tourists, and they're sometimes highly dramatic. The Black H'Mong for example are the ones who hassle you in huge groups whilst you're perched precariously on the edge of a water & buffalo shit filled paddy field. They do it in good humour though and actually help by holding your hand to lead you, you just have to be careful that they don't surrepticiously slip a crap tin bangle on your wrist whilst doing it and charge you a fiver. The women dress in beautiful black traditional costume with little leg 'putteys' which are apparently supposed to 'bind' their calfs to stop them becoming too muscular and unatractive from all the walking they do. They were all very sweet and highly persistent and took a scarily intense interest in our Sophie.



We stayed in a 'Homestay', i.e. the home of a local, belonging to a member of the D'Zao tribe, a delightful woman called 'Zum'. Her home was a delightful place set just far enough on the outskirts of her village to feel set apart and peaceful. The view into the valley, (though mist covered), was wonderful and we sat drinking beer contentedly until an army of Black H'Mong got wind that Sophie was in town and descended on us en masse.

The D'Zao are a much less 'in your face people'. They look down on the H'Mong for the way they pester tourists and spend the money they earn with no sense of saving. The D'Zao by comparison have learnt to use their money & resources well. Their homes are decorated well and often filled with antique furniture of the kind you'd pay a tonne for in a fancy shop in SoHo. They also like their telly & karaoke.
So, dinner was cooked up by our guide, (a veritable feast of incredible Vietnamese food), and then Zum cracked open the home made rice wine. It was at this point that things get a bit 'hazy'. Following a series of toasts to just about anything, (the host, the ladies, Zum's dead husband, the men, Zum, Simon eating fish), Zum would pop behind a suspicious looking curtain and reappear moments later with yet another bottle. There was truly no escape. Beth started babbling to our guide, I waxed lyrical about the differences between living in the East & West, Simon played with the TV and Sophie played with the dog. Through all of this Zum just kept refilling our glasses and giggling away to herself. It was an outstanding night. None of us can remember how we got to bed.

Here's our hostess laughing at some insightfull, witty and not at all drunken comment Beth made.



Our second day was undertaken despite foggy heads, (which I blamed on the mist and air pressure), and heavy feet. Again we strolled through some breathtaking scenery pausing only every thirty seconds so Beth could snap away at the landscape or at a passing butterfly or goat. Our reward at the end of this second day was a wee river that ended in a stunning pool of water into which we all tiptoed to swim. Well, Sophie did. I fell on my arse on a particularly slippery rock, Simon stood in the cold water talking himself into swimming and Beth doggy-paddled about avoiding the rocks. Sophie & I did eventually swim around the pool and found a wee little waterfall around the corner.





That night we treated ourselves to Shepherd's Pie at the 'Red Dragon' a worryingly realistic English pub jammed incongruously in the middle of Sa Pa's main street.

Hoi An

We arrived in Hoi An by sleeper train and were very efficiently met at the station by the hotel taxi. The hotel was recommended to us by our Ching Mai trek friends Ethan & Rachel and it was superb. The best banana pancakes in the whole of S.E. Asia and fabulously helpfull staff. Hoi An is a beautiful town full of character with wonderful coffee shops mixed in with local restaurants nestling in amongst wonderfully rustic and ageing French colonial buildings. The streets are full of artists galleries, weaving and embroidery shops.. and tailors. Tailors, tailors tailors. You cannot walk more than 5 metres without passing one. We somehow got caught up in it all and managed to spend the next 4 days in tailors shops, choosing fabrics and having clothes fitted, altered and refitted. There's a lot of differences in the standards between some of the shops, but you really can't complain about the prices anywhere. Especially when a tailored suit can cost as little as $70.
On the first day we bumped into Sophie & Simon, some lovelies that we met though our Brighton friends Marc & Sorcha. From then on the four of us staggered from tailors to tailors pausing only for a cheeky beer, (or in Simon's case - a cheeky chocolate mouse), or a quick fish in banana leaf.
Our shopping became more & more frenzied as we egged each other on, "Go On Simon. Buy another thirty shirts.", and, "Wow! That pink dress looks great on you Sophie. Why not get another thirty in every colour of the rainbow?", and helped persuade one another that buying more and more clothes was in our interests as they were so cheap compared to home, better made and nicer than 'Hennes' and we'd not have any spare cash when we got home anyway. Simon eventually won the top prize and managed to buy 39 tailor made shirts in what felt like under an hour. Very useful for work especially when you have one for every day of the month and a few spare for those unforseen moments.
All of our plans of updating the blog and arranging the rest of our travels went out of the window as we desperately tried to squeeze in fittings at Yalay at 11am, 'Funky Fabrics' at 2pm and Number 27 at 5. Beth & I lashed ut on a few essentials too such as linen summer trousers, skirts and kimonos. Yes, you heard right. Kimonos. We also had a suit or two made.



On our last day we managed to get a moto to the beach for a couple of hours, which was blissful, but difficult to relax... Surely we had a fitting to be at?

Evenings passed wonderfully drinking a lot more than we should in great company and marvelling at how much food Simon can eat. He also did a truly amazing job trying new things he'd never dared to eat before. Fish being the main one. We were more than happy to find out that, as their millions of fittings had overrun, Sophie & Simon had decided to postpone their flights to Hanoi so that we could all head that way together.

Easy Riders Dalat to Nha Trang

First off I have to say that the time we spent with our riders was possibly the best three days we've spent on this trip so far. It really was something special. Beth had never been on the back of a motorcycle before the previous day but her rider had taken great care and her confidence was up. It took a bit of a knock however when my driver Ly turned up with a new chap called Mo.
The ride was so ridiculously smooth that after about an hour we were both relaxing on the backs of our bikes and marvelling at the stunning scenery that passed us. We stopped at various points along the way to briefly visit different aspects of Vietnamese life with our guides, well... guiding us and providing an informative running commentary.
Among the gems we saw the first day was 'Chicken Village'. At first we thought this was going to be pretty much what it seemed but were proved wrong as it turned out to be named after a rather sad legend. The story goes that a local boy wanted to marry but to do so he had to go into the forest and find a chicken with five spurs on it's feet to present to his girlfriend's family. He died searching for this mythical creature and in his honour the villagers erected a huge stone chicken at the entrance to the village.
Later on we saw how incense sticks were made, something I never thought I'd ever care about but actually found quite facinating. The woman who ran this little cottage industry was mesmerised by Beth's camera and positively squealed with joy when Beth gave her a crash course in how to use it and she fired off a few snaps of the kids living with her. The kids practiced their English on us and fed us sour tasting fruit which I politely eat.
Another small home we visited grew cashew nuts and the old lady who was matriarch of the family stood to attention as Beth took her photo. It was upsetting in a way as she had such a characterfull and wise face but was so mortally ashamed of being dark skinned. Over here paleness is apparently next to Godliness and you see girls in the more cosmopolitan areas going to extraordinary lengths to prevent their skin going any darker.



Another family we visited took us in and shared green tea with us. Here too the kids were learning English and asked us our names and ages in between fits of giggles. It's amazing how furiously the Vietnamese are embracing change.



That night we stayed at a pretty basic but pleasant guest house on the shores of Lac Lake.



Our second day took us to the lake where we visited a village of long houses. These are exactly as they sound. Great long houses of what is essentially one communal room. Outside some of these houses, (apparently owned by the more traditional of the families as it's a practice that's dying out), were two sets of wooden steps. One carved with what can only be described as breasts. Apparently there is a set of steps for men and one for women to use when entering the property. Excellent huh?
On the roadside we stopped to watch a group of young lads mining and cutting granite, again a subject I probably wouldn't have lingered more than a second over if it was a BBC2 documentary and I'd accidentally switched over too, but strangely fascinating when witnessed in real life. We also saw the now obligatory waterfall and more coffee plantations.



Day three was full of rain. It was like biking through a bucket of water and we got soaked through to the bone, even through the double layers of waterproofs Ly & Mo gave us. However we're British and a spot of rain wasn't about to dampen our spirits now was it. No siree Bob. We took in many things on this last day including a rubber plantation and pretty sombre war memorial. The scenery we drove through on this last day would've looked so much better in more clement weather but it was pretty damn breathtaking all the same. The final mountain road to Nha Trang was particularly beautiful and Mo & Ly dropped us off to walk for a while. This whole area has suffered greatly at the hands of the American army. Apparently the US convoys had to move slowly through this region because the road was so precarious, as a consequence the Viet Cong, using the surrounding trees as cover, could take their time and pick the convoys off. The American's answer to this was to Napalm the entire area thus depriving the VC of their advantage. To make matters worse they then dumped thousands of kilos of herbicides to prevent the regrowth of trees and plants. The area is only now beginning to recover.
Anyhow, on a lighter note... food. The food we had whilst in the company of Mo & Ly was amazing. Up until this point we'd thought we'd been experiencing 'real' Vietnamese dishes but it soon became clear that the stuff they serve in restaurants to Westerners pales in comparison to what they serve the Vietnamese. Each lunchtime we were presented with five to six dishes of various things, each utterly delicious. The whole repast cost us just 20,000 Dong! That's around 75pence. This discrepancy was made even more obvious when we finished our trip in Nha Trang and made for the most basic looking eatery only to be given a Western version of the Vietnamese menu they'd whisked away as quickly as possible when we sat down. No doubt the Vietnamese dishes were not only nicer but cheaper too.
We left our riders in Nha Trang with heavy hearts and a promise that should we return to Vietnam we would definitely seek them out and secure their services. It's a promise I reckon we may just keep.

Dalat

A few more hours in a mini bus later and we arrived in Dalat, the supposedly romantic capital in the central highlands of Vietnam. Its all very kitsch and pink and very cheesy. We stayed at another wonderful hotel with breakfast included and the only place so far where Ben could satisfy his Marmite craving. Dalat is famous for being the home of the 'Easy Riders', a biker tour guides who started as a group of about 20 war veterans with vintage European motorbikes who take tourists & travellers out to the more remote corners of Vietnam. There are now about 70 'Easy Riders' in total. To qualify they have to have a good motorbike, speak at least one other language fluently, have a wide knowledge of Vietnamese life and perhaps most importantly have to have been recommended by an existing rider. Some people have adopted their riders and travelled all the way from Dalat to Saigon or Hanoi for weeks on end. One step at a time we thought, a day trip into the surrounding coutryside was enough especially as previously you'd be hard pushed to find me on the back of any kind of vehicle with 2 wheels for more than a few hundred metres.
The riders take this all into account and our driver took everything very safely and slowly until you're ready for a bit more speed. It was a wonderful day we started at 8.30am and were driven through the central highlands, around mountain roads stopping quite often to be shown a part of real vietnamese life. We saw a local pagoda on the outskirts of Dalat, (again very kitsch with brighly painted dragons and a model story of Budha), we saw how coffee is grown, the coffee flowers smell like honeysuckle and passing coffee farms is wonferful. We saw silk worms and their cocoons, how rice wine is made and met some wonderful people on the way. Lunch was the best food we had eaten so far in Vietnam. Our drivers ordered a selection of the dishes of the day, meat, fish, vegetables, tofu etc about 6 dishes in total all cooked with enough sticky rice to feed an army, all for 20,000 Dong each. That's about 75p. (Incidentally, Westeners unfortunately cannot order this sort of food without a local with them it would seem). As the day went on and my confidence grew the feeling of being on the back of a bike on the open road became addictive. We finished the day at the 'Cazy House' which really was crazy. It's a huge 'Charly & the Chocolate Factory' style guesthouse which is constantly being added to. It's seriously nuts. Each room has a theme like, 'Tiger Room' or 'Gourd Room' and the whole thing is full of corridors that twist and turn in the shape of a massive, malformed tree made of concrete.
The 'Easy Riders' aren't that cheap and considering is costs about $5 by bus to the next town we had to carefully consider our options. We decided that the price of $260 each for a five day trip to Hoi An, (our next destination), was too much, but that we would adopt our guys for a three day journey to Nha Trang where we could catch a train onwards and besides, I wanted to see more of Ben on the back of his bike, who being a clear foot taller then his driver looked like Wallace and Gromit. Its one of the best decisions we have made.
We had one day free in Dalat before leaving with them. We bought and sent home some Vietnamese drip filters & some 'Chon' coffee which is coffee beans that have been eaten by weasels and then collected up after they've been pooed out. A delicacy that even the locals find amusing. Anyone want to pop over for coffee?
We walked around the lake and had some drinks at the beautiful and exclusive golf club where we raised a glass to Ben's Dad who was becoming Captain of his Golf club back in Blighty.

Mui Ne

From Saigon we got a bus to the beach at Mui Ne. The 3 hour journey turned into a four hour journey after a puncture where we were stranded for a couple of hours, but the bus driver managed to make up the time. Very quickly! Eeek! It was great to be at the beach again, not the best one we've seen, but lovely to relax and take it easy for a few days. The bungalows were set in a beautifully landscaped garden and the staff were lovely. There was a very sweet girl serving our breakfast who responed with 'Yes' and a very puzzled expression to everything we said eg:
Beth: 'I'd like a pancake with chocolate sauce but no banana please'
Girly: 'Yes?'
Ben: 'And I'd like lipton tea with fresh milk'
Girly: 'Yes?'
The beach is famous for its strong winds in the afternoon and there are hundreds of kite surfers with various degrees of skill which made for some interesting entertainment whilst we were sunning ourselves & doing not a lot else.
In an effort to prevent ourselves merging with our sun loungers we took a day trip out to the 'famous' sand dunes of Mui Ne. There's some red ones and some white ones. The white dunes are hugely impressive, it was like walking into a film and I half expected to see Peter O'Toole & Omar Shariff come bounding over the horizon strapped to a pair of camels. This didn't happen of course but we did see loads of kids with sheets of plastic asking us if we wanted to dune-surf. We didn't. It looked rubbish. The dunes stretch for what seems like miles and it's a very incongruous site to behold smack in the middle of Vietnam. We tried a brief amble but quickly realised that distance is a very fluid concept when surrounded by the featureless roll of the dunes. It also has a habit of moving a lot beneath your feet.



We took in the red dunes at sunset, (also featuring kids with plastic), and they were equally impressive being of a deep and flawless terracotta colour. They reminded me of those slightly naff little bottles of coloured sand that always seemed to be for sale at seaside resorts. Only bigger. And more beautiful.
We treated ourselves, (again), to some great food at the local Italian and had real French wine. The staff attempted to teach us some very basic Vietnamese, (we're just about managing the basic 'please' & 'thank you's' now). For our last night we had a buffet dinner in the swanky 'Sailng Club' resort next door. Very nice.

Mekong Delta

From Saigon we took an organised tour to the Mekong Delta, which was quite fun and interesting in itself with amazing scenery, but we were herded around from boat to boat with around 40 other people, which was a bit dissappointing. Our guide was great and we couldn't help but laugh at the way he talked. Something like this:
"Now we will enjoy a 3 hour Bus ride to My Tho. Now we enjoy the big boat to My Tho Market, please come back to the boat in twenty minutes. Twenty. Two-O. Twenty. Minutes. Enjoy the market for twenty minutes please."



"Now we will enjoy the big boat to Dragon Island Dragon. D-R-A-G-O-N Dragon Island, where you will enjoy your lunch. L-U-N-C-H lunch. Then you will enjoy a boat ride to Tortoise Island where we will enjoy the Coconut Candy factory and some traditional Vietnamese music." The tradition of which seems to be to get your voice to go as high and as strangled as possible whilst singing random words accompanied by a band who clearly don't know which way up to hold their instruments. "Then we will enjoy a rowing boat trip through the canals on Tortoise Island." Where the lady rowing our boat roaped me in to help and then expected a tip!



"Then we will enjoy a boat journey to the bus, bus to Can Tho including a ferry crossing in the pooring rain, and a motorbike & trailor to homestay." At this point we left our guide which was frankly a relief as we didn't feel like we had to enjoy our homestay but we really did enjoy it, lots of home made food and a lovely hut overlooking the river and some good company. Here's Ben making the most of the authentic decorations in the room.



The next morning we took a stroll through village, and a boat to a rather dissappointing floating market, another boat to a rice paper factory where we met with our previous days' guide and then a boat to a paddy field "Where we we will enjoy walking over the unbeleiveably thin and precarious Monkey bridge", or not as it turned out.



This was followed by yet another boat to yet another rice factory, boat to bus, bus to Saigon.

Vietnam - Saigon (Ho Chi Minh City)

We took the bus from Phnom Penh to Saigon and it was a relatively painless affair. The hotel made us a packed breakfast and arranged a tuk-tuk to take us to the bus pick-up (approx 200 metres away) and we were settled on the bus riding through the city by 7.30am. After flying through the last two borders, it was quite exciting doing this one by land. Everyone in S.E. Asia looks after their tourists very well, and you are hearded through the administration with maximum SE Asian efficiency, (so it takes a few hours, but hey). By 4pm we were safely in Madam Cuc's Hotel 127, supping free juice and eating bananas. Its really not bad this travelling lark.

We took a stroll in the early evening to explore our new city. The first thing we had to do was cross the road. You are literally putting your life into the hands of several hundred motorcyclists everytime you do this. At the busy times, and at all other times now I think of it, there are motos coming at your from all directions as well as criss-crossing each other and weaving in and out. It's like water. There are no road rules here. Its each man for himself and the bigger you are the better chance you have of getting where you want to go. If you don't have a vehicle, you don't stand much chance. The idea, apparently, is to step into the road and walk slowly across the road. It's kind of like the slow walk across 'No-Mans-Land' we all know of from WW2 with probably as much chance of surviving. The motos will see you and drive round you and the few cars just have to slow down. It can be disconcerting when you are putting the theory into practice especially when a full speed moto driver is not looking where he is going and chatting away to someone on the other side of the road... Eeek. For the first half and hour we were totally mesmerised by the seething masses on the road and stood on the side grinning and laughing, (slightly hysterically). When we had made it across the single lane road it was time to tackle the roundabouts with roads of 4 lanes of traffic coming off them... We mentally wrote our wills.

Eventually we found ourselves in a kind of open public space between 2 of the main roads and discovered the Ho Chi Minh past time of choice, a sort of cross between football and badminton where a shuttle cock is kicked between any number of players. The idea being to keep it going for as long as possible. There were loads and loads of small groups of people playing, some in team colours, and we passed them all watching and grinning inanely at this crazy city.



Saigon is another one of these very cosmopolitan cities and I keep finding myself in shoe shops and silk shops where the clothes are beautiful and the service exceptional, (and the sizes too small dammit!), we are always automatically drawn to the fancy eateries and plush drinking establishments. Lunch was baked salmon with mango & spinach in citrus dressing and our early dinner drink was taken accidentally in the Sheraton Hotel bar. Ooops. Budget - Shmudget. Thankfully our dinner of simple noodle soup and Vietnamese spring rolls was included in the hotel price so we could justify this one day of extravagance.

The following day was spent on the internet. One thing no-one ever tells you about traveling is how long everything takes to organise and how long it takes to update and upload pictures onto blogs.

That evening, we met up with Rosie and Richard. Rosie is the sister of my lovely DK friend Emma and they looked after us exceedingly well. It was great to see some familiar faces and be able to chat away to them, instead of all that traveller/stranger small talk. In fact poor Rosie & Richard weren't able to get a word in edgeways and Ben & I talked ourselves hoarse. They took us to a very popular Vietnamese restaurant and then to a very authentic Irish pub. With a very authentic live band. We went back to the hotel happy, fed & watered. Thanks guys!

Phnom Penh

With just two days until we were to enter Vietnam Phnom Penh was to be our last stop in Cambodia and we thought it fitting to finish on a high. That said we obviously came over 'a bit peculiar' and booked a day tour to 'The Killing Fields', the 'S-21 Prison Camp' and the Russian Market. It really was as depressing as it sounds.
The Killing Fields is a monument to the hundreds of Cambodians that the Khmer Rouge murdered. The people sent here were all Cambodian intellectuals, doctors, teachers, politicians etc, all of whom were seen as a threat to the Khmers. When the land was excavated they uncovered huge mass-graves containing the remains of men, women and children in their hundreds. The centre of this area features a tall tower containing the skulls of all those that were discovered, along with piles of clothes and other horrific finds. It's difficult to imagine the horrors that took place here, perhaps because we have more peaceful minds and can't envisage this kind of behaviour, but the sense that something truly terrible took place seemed to hang over us.
S-21 in many ways is even worse. This was once a school, a place of hope, peace and education, but the Khmer Rougeturned it into an internment & death camp. The silence here is deafening and you really do feel heavier as you read piece after piece about the unthinkable things that took place. It's essentially three wings around a courtyard in the centre of which are buried the bodies of the people the army found murdered in their beds when they liberated the place. These people had been hastily shot by the retreating Khmers and were found and photographed in their cells, the photos and objects found in the rooms on display now bring tears to your eyes.
Inside the buildings are hundreds of photos taken by the Khmers of all those imprisoned in the camp. All these faces, young and old just starring out at you with vacant eyes chills you to the bone.
Perhaps the most terrifying part of all this is the presence of some seemingly innocent exercise equipment in the yard. These were originally used for children of various ages to swing and play on or do their routine exercises. When the Khmer Rouge took over they took on a much more sinister purpose. People wre hung here until near death and then submerged in freezing water until they all but drowned. They were also tied here and flogged to literally within an inch of their lives.
We found all of this uterly bewildering, not only because of the unspeakable acts that man can commit but also because many of those executed or sent to camps like S-21 were members of their own party. I wish I could understand this more but then a part of me is glad that I don't. Suffice to say we didn't sleep well that night.
To cheer ourselves up the next day we took a wander around town and stumbled across an expat supermarket. This doesn't sound like fun I grant you but when we entered the deli and found that they stocked ham, cheese and olives we nearly fainted. Beth positively exploded and we lashed out on ham & olives. We ran from the supermarket clutching our bag of goodies like kids with stolen sweets and made for the nearest bench where we wolfed the lot licking our sticky fingers and giggling. That night we found a great restaurant that trains the homeless street kids to be chefs & waiters. The profits from the restaurant goes back into the training so we felt no guilt whatsoever in over-ordering and requesting the most expensive, (and uterly magnificent), juices the menu could offer. When you know you're helping the homeless an apple, lemongrass and ginger juice tastes so very good indeed.

Siem Reap to Battambang on the Tonle Sap

From Siem Reap we took a slow boat across the Tonle Sap lake & rivers through the floating villages on our way to Battambang. Watching river life was amazing and bamboo huts of varying size & purpose appear out of the water and just kind of sit there on the surface. It's ethereal seeing these homes & businesses almost stranded out at sea. It's eerily quiet too without the usual background noise of traffic or the cacophony of yells and people talking. As we chugged past, as slowly as possible through the inhabited villages, people would paddle up on smaller boats to our bigger boat and drop off packages and passengers who wanted to go our way. Yet again the BBC World service had decided to lay on the guilt the previous day by focusing on the river people of Cambodia and their disappearing fish-stocks. It seems the larger fishing fleets are decimating the fish population and that the government is granting more and more of the waters to the bigger companies. The report also mentioned that the largest cause of death amongst children in these villages is drowning, often caused by the swell of the larger, tourist-filled, boats capsizing the smaller. We'd seen this and baulked at the stupidity and injustice of this and yet here we were, doing just that.
In the villages were houses, shops and schools which were buildings and huts that were literally floating on the river. In the wet season the lake tripples in size so a floating home has less of a chance of flooding. A pre-requisite of enrolling in a floating school is that you can swim. Rising out of the lake at scattered intervals are these vast crazy-looking floating fishing devices that look a medieval trebuchet with a massive fishing net attached to it which is lowered into the water via an enormous pully & lever system.



After a fascinating 4 hours, we changed to smaller boat that could make it around the tight turns in the river towards Battembang. Unfortunately all of the people on the big boat were transferred to the smaller boat. There were about 30 of us in a boat the size of a canoe. It was very hot and the drapes around the edges were lowered to keep off the sun. However, Ben and I got in near last which meant we got to sit on a plastic garden chair each instead of the wooden benches down the edges. We couldn't actually move or see anything and when ever the boat went round a very tight bend, which was constantly, Ben's chair legs would buckle and he would fall into the French couple on the right or the Swedish girl on the left. The scenery and river life would have been amazing, but we couldn't see anything from the boat. It was a miserable 4 hours.



Finally we reached Battambang, it was grim so we booked our bus tickets to Phnom Penh for the next morning.