Just a quick addition...

to our Kyoto post... For our last night we decided to head to a funky restaurant serving modern Japanese food called Grotto. It was absolutely amazing. We sat downstairs at a long counter where the chefs prepare the nine courses for you. Yep, you heard right people, NINE COURSES! They're all small courses thank God but very filling none the less. The head, (rather chubby), chef and owner sat us down and then dished out our food whilst telling us what each one was. It was so nice to get that kind of treatment and to have all this wonderfully presented food explained to us.
Here's what we had.

1) Cold pea soup with sesame pudding
2) Tuna sashimi (raw) with anchovy mayonnaise, salad leaves & fried garlic
3) Potatoe dumpling with a baby octopus inside & pickled wild grass
4) Thick ginger soup with snapper, cabbage & parma ham
5) A tasting plate of 7 different bits including an egg & asparagus omlette, eel sushi & Chinese pork spring roll
6) Tempura veg wrapped in sea bass in a fish stock
7) Poached beef & bamboo shoots & spinach
8) Rice with whole baby shrimp with pickled seaweed, mini flour dumplings in lemongrass soup
9) Strawberry ice-cream with wild leaf cake & Cream custard in a caramelised brown sugar & vinegar sauce.

To wash it down we opted for a glass of shochu on the rocks followed by a cool nama biiru, (draft beer). We left Kyoto very happy.

Kyoto

Kyoto hit us hard after the wonderfull time we'd had in Hiroshima. It's a much larger city and seems impersonal as a result. It didn't help that when we arrived, (after a brilliant trip on a bullet train), the weather was frankly shockingly cold and very rainy which dampened not only our clothes but our spirits too.
We'd been told that Kyoto is the proverbial jewel of Japan and that thecherry blossom wold be in full effect so we were rather disappointed to find that it was on it's way out and that it looked a little drab against a grey sky. Our mood dropped a little further when we quickly realised that, unlike in Hiroshima, this was not a city to wander in. Everyone says that Kyoto is beautiful and, maybe we didn't see it in it's best light or maybe we weren't at our best, but we just didn't really 'get it'. It just seemed like any other big, sprawling, expensive city.
That said we have had some wonderful days here wandering around the ancient temples and eating fine food. We took the 'Path of Philosophy' from just behind our accommodation which, by the way, is a charming traditionalstyle Japanese house run by a very un-traditional mix of an American, a Scot & a Japanese woman, which boosted our spirits. It's a gentle stroll along a river and through toriis and shrines hidden in the woodland.



The river is bordered by cherry blossom trees and Japanese couples were out in force vying for a decent spot to have their picture taken arm in arm. The blossom really does add a wonderfully 'serene' quality to everything and I'm glad we've been able to catch it before it goes. Japan practically worships the blossom and it's appearance sends the nation in to a kind of frenzy, lovers sit under it, old women chat, men discuss things with their friends and groups lay out blue tarpaulins and picnic beneath it.
Unfortunately you do tend to get herded around the temples and the shrines and you're always accommpanied by large Japanese tour groups and before you know it youre back out on the street where you started. It made us realise why the Japanese tourists behaved the way they did throughout S.E. Asia, even in their own country they're corraled together and they beetle off taking pictures of each other in front of trees, rocks, toriis & shrines.



There's no sense of 'breathing in' a historic or venerable place just the need to visit it to tick it off their list.
It was here that we really started to miss home, the crap weather and the high cost made us very melancholy and we wished we could drop everything and head away from the rain to a small Greek island to get a tan and drink wine.
Luckily the rain eased off after a few days and Kyoto was once again looking good so we jumped on a bus and headed off to see the highly bling 'Golden Temple', (it really is all gold!), and a famous rock garden. The garden is a perfect example of the Zen philosophy as you can only see 14 rocks from any position which are placed within an immaculately raked gravel 'garden'. If one sits in contemplation one can see within the garden whatever you wish to see. A magical 15th rock should also appear once you've reached your spiritual zenith. We know it's there, we looked at the model. Here's the highly serene and zen-like garden.



To banish our homesickness we headed to an Irish pub, (called 'Tadgers' or something), to grab a taste of home and a Sunday roast. It was rubbish.

Miyajima day trip

To break the monotony and in a bid to escape the crap wether we took a day trip to Miyajima, a wee island 45 minutes away by train. The island is home to what's known as Japan's third best attraction, a huge wooden 'torii' or gate that, when the tide is high, sits out at sea in a small bay. The tide was low however so the magnificent torii was mud-locked and all around it elderly Japanese folk dug and rooted around in the mud for cockles. All over the island wild deer run, or more truthfully sit, free and there's many warnings urging visitors to be careful as the deer have a tendancy to eat bag straps and boat tickets. We witnessed first hand a gang of deer attempting to eat a poor Japanese rickshaw driver... and his rickshaw.



The island is pretty small and we took a cable car up to the top to get a clear view of the rest of the archipelago. There are monkeys up there that also eat unsuspecting tourists but luckily they were off having their lunch. The view is great as was the walk back down through the trees that Beth & I took instead of paying 1000000000pounds to ride the car back down.

Hiroshima

We arrived in Japan at Hiroshima not really knowing what to expect. Of all the places we've visited, Japan conjures up the strongest images in our minds. Images of Geishas tripping down streets, goth & cyberpunk styled kids playing with their mobiles while impossibly stylish young ladies totter around in expensive high-heels and old men bow to anyone and everyone. As it happens most of this is true it would seem. The Japanese are amazingly friendly, peacefull, stylish and desperately polite. From the moment we touched down we were treated so well that it made our head spin. This even applies to the 'friendly' customs official who, on seeing us wobbling through cutoms under the weight of our backpacks, politely dragged us off to one side and proceeded, politely, to root through all our stuff. They're so unused to seeing backpackers, (understandable considering the cost of this place), that they didn't really know what to do. The hooky DVDs we'd bought didn't bother them but they got quite confused over my sterile medical kit and syringes especially when they misheard me explaining that it was a 'sterile' kit and thought I'd said 'steroid'.
A bus journey later and we were in our hotel, it was only a simple 'Comfort Hotel' but we'd managed to get it on the cheap through the nice lady at the tourist information office. It was a mere 35pounds a night and not the 50pounds that we were probably going to have to get used to spending. It's amazing how expensive it is here. Probably no more so than at home but the difference is that you don't have to buy three meals a day everyday at home. We'd gotten used to being wealthy in S.E. Asia and here we were right back to where we are at home money-wise. Suddenly our accommodation budget had shot from $15 dollars a night to anything from 50quid up! On the plus side our room did have a cube-like bathroom and a toilet with a built in bidet that washed your bum with hot water. The hotel also had vending machines for instant noodles and beer! This was obviously a highly classy establishment.
There's also vending machines on pretty much every street corner selling pop, hot or cold cans of coffee and the humourously named beverage 'Pacori Sweat'.
Anyhow, we settled in to Hiroshima very easily indeed. It's a fantastic city with a brilliant small-town feel to it. It's just like any other city in that you can get everything you want and the transport allows you to go whereever you want, whenever you want and yet it's small enough to get to know in a couple of days. It's also rapidly becoming a very trendy area as more and more funky bars, (the kind you'd be pleased of in Brighton or London), and boutiques open up. The best thing about it is that these places are still relatively quiet and uncrowded as Hiroshima itself is a very peacefull town. The streets are lined with the uber-cool Japanese and we felt more than a little dour wandering about in our big 'North Face' coats and heavy walking shoes.
The first thing we did here was to visit the infamous 'A-Bomb Dome' & 'Peace Museum'. The dome is the old Prefecture building and was one of the only buildings left standing after the Americans dropped 'Little Boy' from the 'Enola Gay' directly above it back in 1945. It now stands as a reminder of the destructive power of nuclear and atomic weapons and it's a strangley beautiful sight as it sits there in the peace of the park bordered by the river and surrounded by cherry blossoms and families picnicing.
The Peace Museum is a more sombre affair as it charts the history of Japan & Hiroshima up until that terrible day and it's aftermath. The people of Hiroshima have taken it upon themselves to work towards a nuclear weapon free World and every year they hold an event to commemorate the destruction of Hiroshima and make the 'Peace Declaration'. In the entrance foyer to the museum there is a huge clock that counts the days since the last nuclear test and it resets everytime a new test is made. It was pretty startling to see that it was only at 40 odd days. The Hiroshimans(?) take all this in their stride and, though they are aware of their cities unique place in history, they're a very vibrant and upbeat people.
After the drama of the dome & museum a walk in the park was just what we needed and just what we did. We also walked the streets pausing only to press our faces up against the windows of high class and very stylish shoe and hat shops like hungry school kids. Beth mentally bought about a thousand pounds worth of shoes whilst walking from the park to the bar. The bar in question was called 'KOBA', this won't mean anything to those of you who aren't from Brighton but it made us feel a little closer to home as we sat in the bar and chatted to the bar man and his mate about the coincidence. He also introduced us to 'shochu', no, that's not his mate but a variation on 'sake' taht's apparently coming back into fashion with the young Japanese. It used to be the drink of choice for the drunks and the disillusioned but now, thanks to places like KOBA, it's on the up again. There are lots of different types made from things like rice, leaves and sweet potatoes, our fave was one distilled from brown sugar. We developed quite a taste for shochu over the next few days.
We also indulged in a local speciality called 'Okonomiyaki'. It translates as litterally 'cook anything you like' and it comes in the form of a pancake stuffed with cabbage, noodles and meat or fish that's cooked in front of you on a hot-plate and then smothered in a kind of brown sauce and eaten hot and it's absolutely bloody delicious!



Over the next few days the weather deteriorated a bit and the blue skies were replaced with clouds and outbreaks of rain so we spent a fair bit of time in shops looking at robots and wandering through the many arcades watching in awe as kids bashed away with perfect timing and lightning reflexes on some kind of crazy Japanese drum-based game of skill.



That night Beth & I bit the bullet and popped into a very Japanesey noodle shop and did lots of pointing at the menu & miming of animals until I got a lovely ramen noodle soup and Beth got some utterly great tempura shrimp & veg, with cold noodles which the waitress old her she had to dip into her pot of soy sauce.
All in all it was a great introducton to Japan and we left for Kyoto in very high spirits.

Beijing

...is a queer sort of a place. On first inspection it's like any big city, only it seems spread out a lot more and someone, (possibly the government), appears to have coated the entire place in dust and dirt. It really is filthy. It didn't help that the weather wasn't great and just added to the whole 'musty' feel. For the first time since we left home we felt like we were actually 'travelling' and having to fend for ourselves. The first obstacle we encountered was finding an ATM machine, this we did with great aplomb by pushing our debit card into an imaginary slot and rubbing our finger and thumb together to recreate the internationally recognised symbol for 'cash' whilst a bemused security guard looked on. Eventually we stumbled across a cab driver who knew what we were after.
Cashed up and in a cab we headed to the Far East International Hostel where we were dumped by a tiny side street as cars can't actually drive down the street it's in. Having no idea where we were or how to communicate this I'm ashamed to say I had a bit of a paddy. Luckily two passing Aussies saw our plight and took us to the Hostel where we checked in to a room that, and maybe I'm being over generous here after Hong Kong, was so big we could actually pass one another on the way to the toilet.
That night we headed off into the streets of Beijing to find the renowned Li Quin Duck House, Beijing's finest purveyors of Peking Duck. Beth was practically salivating at the thought of the crispy duck pancakes as we wandered around down more and more residential streets trying to find the damn place. We were about to give up when like a sign from God three pissed up Beijing business dudes stumbled past and I spotted a handy sign on the fornt of a tri-shaw leading us on.
Inside the place was pandemonium. It's set in a roofed courtyard behind a run down old house in the corner of an unmarked street. Clearly everyone in there was celebrating just finding the place and the duck was flowing nearly as quickly as the beer. as you enter you're confronted with a wee chef working away in front of a huge brick oven and the smell of duck roasting over wood and herbs wafts over you tantalisingly as you stand in line admiring the pictures of the owner with various ambassadors and Geoff Hoon.



Once seated they roast a whole duck for you and then bring it up to your table to look at, much as a sommelier would do with a bottleof wine. I was tempted to run my finger along it's back, give it a lick and nod with aproval. They then cut it into slices and bring it back to you with a stack of pancakes, chopped cucumber & spring onion, and plum sauce. The duck is so moist and delicious that from the moment it arrived until we finished our plates we literally didn't utter a word. We went to bed happy.
The following day we headed off with a billion other assorted Chinese and tourists to visit Tiananmen Square. We'd been told, by the guidebook, that tourists often feel uncomfortable confronted by such a massive display of governmental power as the square but frankly I couldn't see it. For a start I'm sure it would've been more impossing if someone hadn't decided to build Chairman Mao's mausoleum smack in the middle of it. After the square we headed off to take in the infamous Forbidden City.



Here we got shafted as we'd been told that the audio tour guide was narrated by none other than Roger Moore but it turned out to be some unknown woman.



I wanted Roger! Despite this initial dissapointment we strolled around the Forbidden City marvelling at the fact that most of it was closed and covered in scaffolding, the sheer number of Japanese tour groups and the fact that it didn't feel in the least bit impossing, ancient or forbidden. Maybe we've become a little blase having seen so many historical sights in the last three months.
After the Forbidden City we stumbled into a park and into a Chinese tea house. Here we were served tea the traditional way by two young ladies. I was very happy. The tea was good and it was interesting to learn how tea is served and how it should be drunk. Women should hold their cup in a dainty fashion with just their thumb & forefinger, (symbolsing the phoenix and beauty), whereas men hold it in the full fist like a bear, strong and powerful. We slurrped away merrily and very nearly bought some had Beth not pointed out that we could probably pick some up in the shops for a third as much. They had nice teapots though.



We decided to head up to what's fast becoming the 'trendy' drinking area in Beijing which turned out to be remarkably like Hoxton. Funky bars line the streets and there's a very new looking lakeside development of cafe/bars & restaurants. We grabbed lunch here and had a beer or two whilst watching the young trendy Beijingers wander past. In the middle of our lunch and people watching, who should stroll past but Boris Johnson. I kid you not.



Beijing is a crazy place, it feels like it's on the cusp of a radical change. There's suddenly a kind of freedom for it's young citizens and there's a general feeling of renewal in the air. Kids walk around sporting designer label clothes and traditional dress whilst chatting on their mobiles outside funky bars. Maybe it's my ignorance of their troubled history or maybe it's just that a lot of places we've visited in the last three months have felt a bit like this, but I didn't really take it in as much as I feel I should've.



The following day we left bright and early on a rubbish coach to go visit 'The Great Wall'. A wall which apparently never worked as a barrier to the Monguls as they just bribed the sentries. A wall, which was once China's ultimate way of protecting itself and keeping people out, that is now used as a symbol of the new 'open' China on it's tourist visas.



The wall is seriously impressive. It stretches out for miles, (5000km to be precise), meandering over the crests of hills befor swooping down into valleys, disappearing momentarily from view. It snakes off in front and behind along the whole vista of China that spreads out before you. It's huge and impossing and we had to walk 10km of it in under four hours. Didn't seem too difficult to us either whilst we were stood booking it in the travel centre but, let me tell you, it's not easy when you have to clamber up loose rock, crumbling stone and steps that are so tiny that I could barely get my big toe on them.
We'd avoided Badaling and opted for the non-touristy part that runs between Simatai and Jinshanling which turned out to be a great choice as we had whole swathes of the wall to our little group of five, oh, and the various Chinese folk who kept joining us to try and flog us water, t-shirts and postcards. There really is no escape.
We walked and chatted, stopping every so often for snaps and a breather in a guard tower, marvelling at the scale of the thing and the astonishingly beautiful scenery around us.



It's such a remote area and it's so mercifully peaceful that it seems impossible to imagine the tourist nightmare that is the Badaling section. (Apparently they have camel rides there. Camel rides!). Damn windy though.
The following day we visited the Temple of Heavan Gardens in the rain and Beth made friends with a woman on a stall selling wafers and bought a bag of them which we munched whilst wandering back to the hotel. The temperature had dropped mightily and we spent a whole fiver each on a pair of North Face coats in the local shop.

The journey to Beijing

From Hong Kong we boarded a train to make the 25 hourjourney to Beijing. We'd lashed the cash a bit and opted for the deluxe soft-sleeper option which got us a berth to ourselves complete with hot water, doilies, an illuminated message board displaying only in Chinese and a seemingly 'un-switch-offable' soundtrack of Chinese pipe music. Thankfully I worked out how to switch this off after about an hour. Anyhow, the cabin was great and we were highly thankfull that we didn't have to worry about anyone else in our small box which was to be our home for the next full day. China raced passed us at breakneck speed for most of the journey as we tucked into our feast of the old favourite Dairylea and ham sarnies, crisps, instant noodles, (which were surprisingly nice), choccie bics and a nice cheap bottle of red. Fortune had smiled on me that shopping trip and had blessed me with a small pot of 'Marmite' which we had for brekkie so everything was right in the World.
Eventually we pulled into Beijing station and set about trying to find ourlves a cash machine & a taxi to take us to our hotel.

Hong Kong

After the Old World beauty of Vietnam, Hong Kong comes as quite a shock. Like London, New York or Paris but with a million times as many Burberry, Louis Vuitton & Tiffany's & Co. outlets, a chav's heaven. Although a heaving and pulsating city it's deathly silent in comparison to the streets of Vietnam. Orderly lights help you cross the road and the futuristic public transport network is clean, (eating and drinking on the tube, buses or trams is banned), and delay-free. Though by far the biggest shock was the cost. We have been wealthy these past 3 months in S.E. Asia and we are now back to feeling like paupers sneaking about amongst the wealthy designer clad Hong Kongites, who are exceedingly well groomed at all times. Another mistake we made was accidentally arriving during the 'Rugby Sevens' THE biggest event hosted annualy by Hong Kong that attracts all the rugger buggers from far Western climes. The bars were packed, everyone talking rugger and everything had increased in price by 50%.
The room we had booked - the most expensive yet - was inside the rather incongrousy named 'Mirador Mansions'. The name is more than a little misleading. The 'Mansions' are in fact an emormous block housing what can only be described as a labyrinth the scale of which the ancient Greeks would be proud of. Shops, restaurants and way to many hostels to be healthy are confined within these bleak and crumbly walls. On arrival we were led to our twin room and marvelled at the size whilst the owner apologetically explained that the hot water was broken and would we like to stay there tonight anyway? The room was aproximately 5' x 7' but it was okay because it did include a 24" TV and a 'bathroom'. The bath was about 2' long with the sink situated over the toilet. We dumped our bags and found the recommended 'Lee Gardens Guesthouse'. Although much the same set up, the rooms were brighter and the building block slightly less oppresive with a fabulously friendly old Chinese owner called Charly Chan and, although a shared bathroom, we jumped at the chance to change rooms the following night.



Now that we could settle ourselves for the next few days, we started exploring Hong Kong. It looks exactly like it does on the tin. As most shops, bars and restaurants are hidden within the confines of towering blocks, the streets are jam packed with neon signs advertising the myriad treasures that lie within the interiors of the buldings. 'Lee Garden guesthouse', (for those who are interested), is on the 8th floor (8/F) whilst there may be a dim sum restaurant or a tea house on the 2/F and a foot massage parlour on the 3/F. Whilst most other city's shop depend largely on passing trade, you really need to know what you are looking for here. It is also the best place in Asia to stock up on essentials and Ben made sure he got lots of packets of 'Percy Pigs'from M&S to keep him going.
That first evening we found a bar in Kowloon and slowly drank our very expensive lager whilst watching the sun set and the lights come on over on Hong Kong Island.
The weather was slightly disappointing and very hazy, but we still managed a walk around the Peak, accessed by the funicular tram. We really fancied a sandwich and bought some bread, 'Dairylea' and 'Bernard Matthews Turkeyham' from a supermarket along with some pickled onion flavour 'Monster Munch' and 'Quavers' for an impromptu picnic.



From the top there are great views of Hong Kong Island's Central district as well as the harbour and out towards Kowloon. The days passed quickly and on our third night we made friends with a lovely bunch of American Graphic designers who all work for Nike here in Hong Kong. Several Hoegaardens, and tequilla shots later they parted with some staff 30% discount cards for us as well as lots of insider knowledge about the city, (Don't stay longer than 2 nights, was one very useful comment). To nurse our hangovers the following morning we had THE best English breakfast in the World let alone Asia at 'The Flying Pan'. Tammy the American owner is very prowd of Hong Kong and gave us loads of tips about how else we could spend our time in this crazy city.



Hong Kong was nice an' all that but it confused us a bit and made us look forward even more to ournext stop, Beijing.

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.