One Night in Bangkok

Ok so maybe more than that, but having all your favourite fast food joints and hi-speed internet finally, kinda leads to sensory overload.

We stayed near the legendary Khao San Road in a nice wee place called Lamphu House, not too shabby for rocking up at check out time to see if they had any spare rooms. We witnessed many people come along looking for a room and finding absolutely no joy. It was a bit of a hassle to get here tho'. When we arrived from the border it was still raining so we jumped into a tuk-tuk and got him to take us to his "friend's" place for the night. Ok so I can be anal about where I would like to stay, but staying somewhere that has holes in the walls of the corridor, supplies no bloody loo paper and just generally smacks of dodginess, just ain't me. But then again for USD6 (with private bathroom) can you complain? One probably shouldn't but this one certainly did. So after he had tried us out on two of his mates' places, we found another place and he upped his fare. Bloody typical!

Anyway, we got our room and as it was still early headed out to see what the whole hoopla was about Khao San Rd. Not really much to say. A big market (like that's something new), loads of bars/restaurants and a whole bunch of young ones out on the prowl. Fair dues, but we left them to it. Preferring the sedate granny-esque stroll through the street. Finished off by Burger King...

Mmmmm... Chicken 'n Cheese Sandwhich.

WRC: Cambodia Style

It was bloody fantastic let me tell ya! We were on a bus (more of a bonafide mini-bus this time) with all the gear stowed in the back seat and heading to the Cambodia/Thailand border. The road heading out of Siem Reap was not bad, had some rather large potholes which after the rain of the previous night, could quite easily have been mistaken for the local paddling pool or pond. 4WD's would be more of a neccessity than a luxury here. I felt for the passengers in the numerous Toyota Camry that were making the same journey.

Once we were in the countryside the fun really started. Our bus making some quite horrific metal on metal scraping/crunching/"help I'm seriously falling apart here" noises. A ride that was roller-coaster esque but without the safety guarantee. Wasn't really that much of an ordeal however, and in terms of our recent border crossing experiences, really quite tame.
Although... When we arrived at the Thai border, it started to rain. Hard. Resulting in mini swimming pools that required traversing in order to actually get into Thailand. So shoes off, pants (trousers) hiked up, and 20kg pack on back, a semi shuffle-waddle-dash was made from building to building or cover to cover. Having been stranded at the border by anyone who knew where we should head once in Thailand, wandering in the rain was the only option. Eventually, soaked but laughing, we found our bus stop and waited. Upon querying our guide as to when the bus would leave for Bangkok, I received "When 10 more people arrive" as an answer. Well fair enough then. No time soon then huh?

1000 steps to heaven

Well at least it bloody felt that way! Welcome to Angkor- a city of temples that involve incredibly steep steps. These steps also being in various states of disrepair and varying degrees of width, sometimes big enough for just your little toe, and sometimes big enough for your whole foot. It was really the luck of the draw. But it was also an amazing thing to see. The sheer amount of stone that was involved is mind-boggling. And with no visible quarry in the area, the whole act of transportating the stones and building these huge structures warrants at least some admiration.

So our first night at Angkor was on top of some hill- supposedly the best view for the sunset- however the clouds were having none of it. Stubbornly staying put til well after the sun went down. But it was all good, 'cos we had bought a three day pass and if you buy your ticket after 1700 you get a free sunset, then the ticket starts the next day. So the next day we were up bright and earlier (before the sun) in order to be at Angkor Wat to witness a supposedly spectacular sunrise. Shoulda known better. Cloudy at night, we should have guessed it would be cloudy in the morning. So we could see behind the clouds that the sun was actually rising, but there was no real sunrise. Never mind, had some brekkie then began the days trekking round temples in earnest.

Turns out once you've seen one temple, you've pretty much seen them all. The only thing that changes is height, location, state of disrepair, size and carvings. Might sound like a lot but really its not. So come lunchtime, I was knackered, but kept on the move. I dunno how many temples we saw that first day but it was alot.

Day 2 saw us have a sleep in (by not much tho') and still more temples. Our tuktuk driver directing where to go and we just numbling following him. Bit of excitment for the day tho'- we stopped at his "friend's" restaurant and he started playing cards. Turned out he was quite good and skunked the other drivers out of some money! Not a bad effort! I decided I'd utilise him and make him earn his money and take me back for another sunset, this time at Angkor Wat. But my plans were thwarted again. A beautiful day, quickly turned overcast and then just before sunset, the heavens opened! I got a bit wet, the driver got soaked and that was the end of our Angkor adventure.

Favourite temples: Ta Phrom, Angkor Wat and the young fulla liked Takeo.
Angkor is very worth a visit, but a bit like the Louvre; overwhelming in the extreme.
My advice: take it easy, have a beer, saying "Nah" to the kids (selling all manner of things) gets rid off them quicker than "No Thankyou", take lots of small riel (Cambodian currency) or USD1's, because everything is "2 for wahn darlah".

Mini Pattaya Beach...

At least that is my opinion (knowing Pattaya Beach by reputation only) of the Riverside in Phnom Penh. As far as the eye can see there are open air cafes, bars, hotels and of course Girlie Bars. The riverside wouldn't look out of place in any Western city in the world. Not really my cup of tea, but did manage to have a Neenish Tart from the Kiwi Bakery!! Bloody Kiwis, they're everywhere!!

Enjoyed Phnom Penh, it has a bit of a grizzly history which is of course a major tourist attraction. So we jumped on the banwagon. Nothing like bearing witness to the atrocities of the past now is there? S21 (Tuol Sleng Museum) is where one such public display of horror is visited by the multitudes. It hasn't been watered down too much, I mean the blood has been washed away but that's about it. Unfortunately thanks to modern day news broadcasts, and the fact that I am generally quite a cynical lass, I felt quite immune to the horrors these poor blighters went through. We didn't make it too the Killing Fields, the bridge was out, but got to experience the nice bumpy ride out and back. As a positive sign that Cambodians are trying to move past the horrors of yesteryear, just opposite the S21 Museum is a great little restaurant- Friends, friendly staff and fantastic food. A great cause aswell.

On a much more pleasant and relaxed note, we managed to get to the Royal Palace and the National Museum, but they didn't toot my whistle either. But they were an excellent way to escape the heat of the midday sun, and of course check out some less violent history.

After being on an Island with bugger-all people, a city was a jarring shock to the system. So we stuck to the major tourist haunts and got outta there quick smart. By Boat to Siem Reap. At 7 o'clock in the morning! Man these early mornings are definitely not holiday material!!

Highway to Hell

We didn't want to leave. We shouldn't have.
However good sense won out over intuition and we purchased tickets to get us from Don Det to Phnom Penh. We were told it would be by mini bus. Fine by us. Unfortunately we made the unforgivable mistake of assuming. Turns out mini bus in Lao means a van or mini van. A 14 seater mind you, but a van all the same. Now imagine (or remember) all those sporting events you went to with your school team, how big the van was, how much gear you had (equipment included) and how the roads were. Let me fill you in on how much more comfortable that travel was to our jaunt.

Ok, so we have 14 people who need to fit into 12 seats because luggage has taken up two and there's no roof rack. There were complaints but we were told it would only be a 20min journey. People doubled up and they cranked on the AC. Not too bad a start. The road was hazardous but bearable.
We arrived at a border town to have all our luggage packed into another van, with a roof rack. However our 14 had just been joined by another load of people. Choas ensued. There were two vans full of gear and people and 6 more needing seats. Our drivers tried to get us all to bunch up but our mainland European counterparts were having none of it. Finally the drivers relented and two cars were produced from thin air. Making more assumptions we were on our way, relatively comfortable and secure in our belief that it would be non-stop and hassle free from there on in.

Well the border crossing was indeed hassle free. Got the visa, got the stamp, paid the "processing fee" and officially entered Cambodia.
The fun began in earnest. We had to switch vehicles 'cos some girls travelling together had been split up. No biggy. The road and the driver were bloody hilarious. It was a "new" road but had no apparent markings or signage, but it did have alot of potholes. How that guy (the driver) still has shocks I'll never know. The way he just plowed through those holes had to be seen to be believed. I was suitably impressed. Thought his car may give out at any moment but impressed nevertheless.

Arriving in one piece at the river crossing, the heavens decided to open up to cool us off. Stung Treng is the border town where we stopped for lunch and got packed into yet another vehicle. With a roof rack and not enough seats. Confusion was the order of the day here aswell. One poor chap had his ticket checked and rechecked, people going to Phonm Penh and Kampong Cham were told to get in one bus, then told to get off, the Siem Reap lot the same and so it went on, til we were all lumped together on the one bus with 8 people still needing seats. Another company arrived and we got rid of 2 people from our van, there were arguments in "half-speak" (broken English- of which now after teaching the language I'm completely fluent in), and the other company agreed to take more of our group.
By now we had wisely done away with the assuming and were just hoping to get there.

At Kampong Cham we lost a few more people and could finally stretch out. It was crapmed for me- short-ass that I am- so I really felt for the six foot Dutch chick behind me.
Our driver felt that he needed to test our patience just a bit more. So he stopped for a bit of a drink and picked up 3 more passengers. Unfortunately for him, none of us were moving, so they crammed two in beside me and my mate and the third in the front seat. They bitched and they moaned but we didn't give a toss. I momentarily felt bad, but then fell asleep.
We got into Phnom Penh no worries and our Italian counterpart took over and directed our very unlucky driver towards the riverside and away from any potential commission he would have made. Again I felt momentarily bad. But I quickly got over standing under a hot shower and jumping into a clean bed.

Hellish journey but Heavenly end.

The Simple Life

Such a grand thing. No electricity. No traffic. No plumbing. No worries.
Don Det is where the simple life is the only way of life.

It was great being in a place that ran on daylight hours. The locals got up with the sun and if they didn't have a restaurant, went to bed not long after the sun went down. At our guesthouse the generator was run from sunset til about 2230. It was pure heaven. We stayed at Mr Tho's Bungalows. Four bungalows on a bank of the Mekong. Hammocks provided. Relaxation assured. A restaurant on hand whenever one felt the hunger pangs get the better of them.
Ning (Mr Tho's daughter) was in charge although it was a family affair; her hubby and brothers helping out, her young son providing entertainment and her elderly aunty picking up the slack. As in Vietnam though, it appeared that the women were the only ones who did any real work, the men preferring to watch the back of their eyelids, or pilot the boat to and fro. I'm sure they did more but I personally was not privvy to it.

So our typical day went thus... Waking up with the rooster. Maybe getting up for the sunrise or just going back to sleep. Hearing the locals head off to market in their boats at about 630am. The temple accross the river donging its bell for morning prayer. Breakfast whenever you decided now was the time. Lazing in the hammocks on the verandah of your bungalow. Reading books. Watching the world float by. Taking a dip in the Mekong when you got too hot. Maybe occasionally heading out to explore. Appreciating that apart from the odd tour van the only thing resembling a traffic jam was a water buffalo who stubbornly refused to move til he/she was good and ready. And the heaviest traffic being said buffalo.

I took time out from hammock appreciation to check out Buddhism Lao style by participating in the local temple's morning prayer (and having my preconceptions about Buddhist monks being quickly dispatched). These monks weren't vegetarian, they quite happily chucked a cat around when it was searching for tidbits from the brekkie table and they weren't sombre during what I assumed was prayer. The young fullas (there were only seven monks in this temple with an approximate median age of 20ish) were smiling and laughing throughout. Made quite a difference from the few "Church Parade" experiences I had as a young Brownie which were a sombre affair. So a condensed version of a morning at the temple: prayer, offerings from worshippers (breakfast), chillin' while the monks eat, prayer, finish. Quite a relaxing morning of worship and a bit of an eye opener for a heathen such as myself. Throughly enjoyed it!

So other than this one dalliance from the usual, we spent 11 nights in the aforementioned do-nothing manner.
7 books read. Hammocks well used. Many swims taken. Many a beer consumed. USD5 a day. Total.

Paradise.

Paradise Awaits...

One more day we spent in Vientiane. Hiring more wee scooter things, and going about the place at night. Turns out once the lights go out, the populace has some fun. Not in the "drunken sports fan" or "teenager/university student on the prowl" kinda way, but a "lets just enjoy the night in a relaxed fashion with someone I want to be with" kinda way. The park around the Memorial Monument (L'Arc de Triomphe) was positively teeming with families and couples, and people out to do a few laps. Running that is. It was quite a nice thing to see. (the whole family/couple/spending time together thing not the running part)

Anyway the following afternoon we were southbound onboard a VIP bus. Yep for USD15 we got to travel in some style. An almost fully reclining seat, blanket, free water, dinner and a movie. Kinda like a "drive thru movie" date but you didn't need a car.
Arriving in Pakse, getting off the bus proved to be quite an ordeal. There were a multitude of bus drivers, tuk-tuk drivers and god-knows-what drivers, all vying for your money. Walking off with your bag if you let it go. Gave "running the gauntlet" a new meaning. We were gonna stay the night but in the face of all the bustling drivers, we instead made a dash for a bus headed towards our final Lao destination. Don Det. All the blogs we had read referred to it as paradise.

So bags safely stowed on top of a rickety bus, sitting in seats that rocked with every motion, and garbage rolling round the floor doing its upmost to stick to your feet, we began our "3 hour" journey. Turns out time is relative in Lao. Bit like Maori time. Things start when they start, and you get there when you get there.
Being a public bus (of sorts) it stopped often, with young fullas outside trying to sell you food. At one point our driver got hungry so stopped the bus, got off and had a feed. Fine by me, I tried to get some sleep, valiantly ignoring the ants that were tickling my arms and legs in their search for food.

We finally arrived at the ferry "port" (bank with boats anchored by string to a tree or a peg in the ground) and were soon dashing across the Mekong to the small island in the area that is known as 4000 Islands (Si Phan Don).
And it is a small island. Walking across it takes bout half an hour. Course if I were to walk it, it would probably take twice that.
Scorching sun, heavenly hammocks, R'n R. Perfect. Paradise.

The Sights and Sounds of Vientiane

Hiring a wee motorbike or scooter is a must-do in any SE Asia country I reckon. Having no fear of course is also a bonus. But getting in there and revving it up with the locals is a ball!
Walking around Vientiane is recommended by the guide books and that is good fun, but also limiting due to the heat. I mean when the sun ain't burning a hole through you, the humidity is doing its best to make sure you melt into a puddle on the sidewalk.
Renting a bike gives you the illusion of a not-so-hot day and is cheaper than taking a tuk-tuk (I think, and offers the freedom to explore outside of the city.

So mechanical steed acquired we were on our way. To where exactly we had no real idea, just a general direction. Passing the Friendship Bridge (border crossing Thailand/Lao) and some very dusty and potholy kilometres later we bumped into Buddha Park. A most interesting if slightly surreal collection of concrete statues depicting various Hindu/Buddhist deities. It being a lovely day we decided to chill with all the Buddhas under the vast canopy of a lovely old tree.

Relaxed and with the sun heading towards the horizon we sped our way back into town and discovered that Vientiane has a mini Champs Elysee. With the Victory Monument (L'Arc de Triomphe) at one end and the Presidential Palace at the other. Well of course this discovery meant we had to do a lap (a la Audrey and Gregory in "Roman Holiday" minus the "Rome" part) and all was going swimmingly until we stopped to take the obligatory photo and got a puncture. Well the romance is most quickly extinguished when you have to push your uncooperative transport to the nearest fixer-upper. Thankfully with the kind help of some school girls (giggling at our misfortune) and the friendly smiles of locals we found a place that could do the job no worries. They supplied us with cold drinks, fixed our steed and sent us on our way. The girls waving and smiling at us as we passed them by, we headed back to the "strip" to complete our "Roman Holiday" re-inaction.

Continuing the theme of Italy in Lao with a Kiwi flavour, we discovered a Scandanavian Bakery that made excellent pizza. Dinner. Pizza and beer.
Wunderbar!

The Gods have forsaken me...

The Digital Gods that is. Seems I have inadvertantly brassed them off, resulting in first; my iPod going kaput and second; horror of all horrors... my camera went ka-phuct!

Yes! My baby, my joy has gone! I feel bereft without it... What to do, what to do?
A tangi (funeral) will be held and messages of condolences greatly appreciated.

So unfortunately until my grief has been overcome there will be no more digital delights accompaning (?) this witty prose. (unless of course the young fulla deems me worthy of his photographic philanthrapy).

Right! Nuff said. It's beer o'clock!

Hoi An to Vientiane

After the peace and quiet of Halong Bay, the boisterous bustle of a quaint little seaside town was quite unexpected.
Hoi An had been the recipient of many plaudits from various sources. However the place did nothing for me at all. Maybe we caught it at the wrong time. Maybe all the charming people who our sources had met had vacated the town for the time we were there. Maybe we had the wrong vibe about us, which in turn made everyone we met a dickhead. Maybe. Maybe. Maybe.
There was a bright spot though; walking down a dusty street we heard "Hey Bro!" from the opposite side of the road. Music to the young fullas ears it were. So the obligatory Maori greeting was exchanged (eyebrows and head raised in greeting fashion) a couple of cheeky grins and a few words. Unfortunately we couldn't stop as we had to catch our bus, but 'twas a lovely moment.

Now as you have probably ascertained by this point, exiting a country smoothly is not our forte and so why would this time be any different? The bus was late but it had aircon. Of course as we were leaving the country there had to be a mini drama. No disappointment there! We had sent our passports away to the Lao consulate to get a visa. The travel company said no problem, they'll be back here in time for the bus. We went to the company in the morning just to check everything was ok. He told us that they would arrive at 5pm. We pointed out that the bus was at 2pm so that wasn't really a good thing. A phone call was made and an assurance said documents would be in our possession by 1340. Well appointed time came and went. Our bus arrived at 1430 (ish) as did our passports. So documents in hand and a "contract" not a ticket, we boarded the bus for Lao.

There was some confusion as to where the passengers for Vientian were supposed to be let off. Some passengers thought one thing, the drivers thought something else. It was a funny sight to see. Eventually we were reached the drop off point for the connecting bus. As our "contract" had been taken from us at an earlier point, you can imagine the apprehension with which we waited for the bus. Nothing like waiting in the middle of nowhere at 3 o'clock in the morning to bloster spirits either!! Never fear! The bus arrived as promised and was totally overloaded with god-knows-what in dubiously leaking cardboard boxes. But we were on our way! Lao here we come!

Arriving in Lao was a similar mini drama. We were hurtling along windy mountain roads (akin to the Kaimai's before upgrades) at a speed which seemed certain to plummet us to our explosive deaths, when we arrived quite abruptly at the Vietnam/Lao border. Which didn't open for another hour. And who's loos were all locked. Joy! Not a great hassle though, had a bit of a kip (nap), left Vietnam after paying the processing fee or "payment for stamp" as its officially called (USD1), walked down the hill and waited for our bus.

On the Lao side payment of the same official fee was made, we got our stamp and boarded the bus. The Lao countryside is quite beautiful from the border into the capital Vientian. Lots of thatched wooden houses, mountains and of course the rice fields. We stopped a few hours into Lao and were informed that this was our last scheduled stop. There were to be no more stops unless you specifically requested them. Well no one requested it but we did have quite a long stop. The tyre blew. The entire tread was shredded. Now considering the speed and way the driver was driving and that it was overloaded, it was no real surprise. Provided some good photo ops though! And alot of us took the time to visit the nearby bushes for relief. It was quite a sight to behold. Four skinny wee chaps trying their bestest to get these huge tyres off the bus, bouncing on the wheel wrench thingy. Replacing the blow out with the spare that looked equally dodgy was not as big a drama as I had expected... Sigh...
So on to Vientiane. No more dramas. Found a place to sleep easily. Had a shower. Ate dinner on the banks of the Mekong River looking across to Thailand. Bliss...

Halong Bay

Our hotel provided tours to Halong Bay (a UNESCO world heritage site). A bay. That meant water. That meant a swum. Huzzah!
The journey out to the bay was by a mostly air-conditioned mini-bus, going along at a most moderate pace. It's quite something to be in a vehice with a large engine, on the motorway, and be passed by scooters let me tell you. Making the obligatory stop for "toilet needs" aka "buy these souvenirs", we clambered out of the mini-bus and realised how stinking hot it really was. C'mon the Bay!

Arriving at the marina, we were greeted by the sight of many an old junket both unloading passengers and preparing for the new. Ah, what cramped chaos! However with very little ado we were pointed in the direction of a particularly glorious ship and left to our own devices.
Shortly after departure, a delightful luncheon was served. Rice abounded with the odd veg and a sumptuous steamed fish. What better way to start the expedition, bellies full, faces beaming, witty conversation, eager expection.
First stop on the exploration of the Bay was a cave. A big cave. Apparently quite famous and well visited and well loved. I'm a cave snob. I expect caves to be dark and gloomy and well... a bit scary. This one was lit up with pretty colours. Visitors were thoughtfully catered for with a cobbled path to follow, complete with stairs and safety railing. To my oh-so-cynical eye the rocks beside said path looked suspiciously like concrete. And as it was beer o'clock we informed our wee guide that we were heading back to our wooden ship and would wait for him and the rest of our group there. Leave it to the Maori and the Irish to mutiny for drink!
We got back to the mini-marina near the cave only to discover that our junket had made way for others and was now too far to sensibly leap onboard. Enterprising as we Maori and Irish are (or is it that we just enjoy shinnanigans?), we spotted that our ship was accesible via two others. Not observing any kind of nautical ettiquette, we baorded the first ship, informed the staff we were just passing through, and clambered over his and the next boat to get to ours. The staff on our boat were most surprised to see us and panicked. They thought that they had buggered up and our group was back early. We tried to explain, but it was lost in translation, so we settled down to cold beers and awaited the arrival of the intrepid cave explorers.
The rest of the day was passed with more cold beers and whining about the lack of a swim (a la kids in cars- "are we there yet?").
Finally we arrived at the designated swimming area. And in true maori style we were the first in and the last out. The young fulla managing to educate everyone on the value of knowing where he is before he decides to bomb off the top level of the boat. The Vietnamese loved it though and tried abismally to get him back more than once. The Aussie was full of admiration for technique and the landlocked Europeans had never seen anything like it and took many a photo. With dinner and sunset approaching we were asked to get out and have a shower. Yeah we couldn't believe it either and chose to ignore the advice. That was until a dastardly jellyfish decided to join the party. With little fanfare he/she/it wrapped my wrist with its tentacles and left wonderfully round welts to remind me of its passing. Bugger!
So we boarded, had a lovely dinner and watched a colourful sunset. A most glorious ending to the day!

The Old Quarter

Hello Hanoi!
It was an eleven hour journey in a train with quaint wooden seats circa 1930. The "air conditioning" was from the same era- antiquated metal fans that kept breaking down and provided little or no respite from the heat. But the seats were so cool! I felt all I needed was some long beads and a wee hat, a constricting brazier and a fluttering fan to totally fit the 30's feel about the place. Wonderful!
We made the acquaintance of an Irish couple and passed the time playing cards and bargaining with the hawkers. One wee thing (hawker) was named Nga. She looked all of 14 or 15 years old and did her best to rid us of our money. We did end up with a whole lot of water and a whole lot of laughs. It was a great introduction to Vietnamese people. Lots of laughing and haggling. We ended up selling them (Nga and company) boxes of Pringles and fake Pringles. They thought it was great! They were buying things off us and the Irish. And the buggers had the cheek to try and haggle us! By gum!
We bade farewell to Nga and company halfway to Hanoi. Unfortunately with them left the laughing hawkers aswell. The next lot were by comparison quite a surly bunch.
So arriving in Hanoi at 2130 (ish) with no where to stay and no idea where to go was quite an adventure. Me being a stingy bugger, made our company take a moto (motobike taxi) to the hotel the Irish were staying in. We were overcharged (big surprise) but the Irish were extorted. What should have cost them 20,000 dong (USD1.50 approx) and taken 5 minutes, cost them 70,000 dong and took 15 minutes. Beware, beware, beware!
You will always find a bed in Hanoi though. There are hotels EVERYWHERE. So we stayed in the Old Quarter of Hanoi. Pretty cool place. Loads of shops, loads of traffic, loads of people. Good cheap food and beer.
Starting to need a swum though...

Good Morning Vietnam!

Yes probably a well overused phrase by now but by pure chance it was morning when we crossed into Vietnam.
Getting from Kunming to the border town was a quick jaunt down bumpy country roads in a mini bus. Having been mislead due to the whole "lost in translation" thingy, we arrived a full 10 hours before we had expected to. And it was stinking hot. Having absolutely no idea where anything was, we were very grateful to an enterprising fellow who offered to give us a hand. Finding a hotel, sorting out train tickets and changing our RMB (Chinese money) to Dong (Vietnamese currency). Of course we knew he was making money off every transaction but it wasn't til we got to the train station the following morning that we realised exactly how much. He had charged us more than ten times the worth of the train tickets! But at the end of the day, we had tickets and no headaches so it was a small price to pay.
Leaving China proved to be just as difficult as entering. After an extended look at our passports the official asked us to "wait a moment". And he disappeared. When he came back he asked us to "please take a seat and wait a moment". So we waited. And joked about being taken into separate rooms and questioned. Alas it was no big deal. We were asked back to the desk and processed pretty quickly. Sigh...
Getting from the border to the train station in Lao Cai means a taxi ride. Or a motocycle ride. Motocycles are cheaper so we took two of them. Bloody good fun! Our packs on our backs, these poor buggers navigating through the chaotic traffic, it was quite a sight to see. And believe me loads of locals were laughing their heads off at the spectacle.
A wonderful introduction to Vietnam!

China: Dangers & Annoyances

Aha! I hear some exclaim so China is not that safe. But this is not that kind of post.

The biggest annoyance here is the hawker phenomenon. In the big cities or at any major tourist site there they are. In abundance. With many different hooks to try to catch you. In Tianamen Sqaure, the most notorious are the "art students". They just want to "practice" their English whilst explaining their artwork. They are very convincing, but their ultimate goal is to get you to buy something.
On the wall its the "guides". You don't ask for them but they accompany you regardless. Appearing sporadically are "water bearers" selling many things besides. When the guides part company they explain their situation- farmers with little or no income and its a long walk back etc, etc. If possible enjoy their company and make them work for their money. At the end of the day its only a couple of USD so its no big sacrifice.

Now the biggest danger here comes to those of you who decide to cycle. Caution: beware of the traffic. Its incredible! Seamless chaos or insanity can best describe it. Constant beeping, disobeying road signs, all in a days travel on the road here. Occasionally you may want to pass a bus or other vehicle bigger than you. The danger is not because of the size. Its because of what may hit you as you pass by said vehicle. Yes, chances are as you pass by a bus (or similarly larger vehicle) you may be hit by errant spittle. People evacuate excessive mucus via open vehicular windows on a most regular basis. Eeewwwww!

Market Galore!

Arrival in Kunming was by an oh-so-quick and most relaxing plane trip. Yep a splurge was in order if we were to leave Chengdu before the end of this week. So a 5am wake up call and four hours later saw us wandering around Kunming airport looking for a bus to get us to our hostel.
Luggage stowed and fare paid we were on our way. Happily discovering even at this hour that Kunming at a balmy 19 degrees was simply heavenly compared to its northern neighbours. Vehicle generated breeze wafting through our hair, car and bus horns performing the "Kunming Opus", and vocal locals supplying lyrics for our introduction to a southern city Sunday morning, what fun! There was already a lot of hustle and bustle happening on the streets although the hour was still young.
Wandering the streets here, you notice that the people are more friendly than their northern counterparts. Better looking too. Well now, you gotta admire the scenery every now and then! My mate is quite happy too, the women are more "blessed" here than previously visited parts of Asia...
Along with the friendliness and the good looks, there is an absolute plethera of markets! Its fantastic! There are food markets, flower markets, meat markets (fair dinkum ones, not the ones you find in dodgy bars or clubs), clothes markets and of course this being China, tea is everywhere. Your senses are assaulted from all angles and your good sense aswell. One wander through the markets or a look at food preparation here immediately brings the dubious hygiene habits of some Chinese restaurants back home into perspective. Stall operators don't hassle you as you wander past either. For once they are actually more concerned with bonafide Chinese customers buying their wares and you are just an amusing diversion. Marvellous!

Phirst

Now I've never really ever been First to do anything, so this I shall savour...
Currently we are staying at a great little Chengdu hostel- Sims Cozy Guesthouse- really friendly and an awesome little place. Maki (the Japanese wife of the couple who run it) has been to NZ. She asked the young fulla if he was Maori. After receiving confirmation in the affirmative, she said she knew. And we (he) are (is) the first maori to come here!!!! Wo-hoo! Glory-be! Hallelujah!
I know its only a small thing, but you know simple minds and all that...

Musical first: They had traditional Chinese music here tonight which was pretty cool. Its actually quite soothing when its played well. The girls looked really cool in their get-up aswell. There was a typical Sichuan (the province we are in) BBQ, but it looked pretty ho-hum. Lots of stuff on sticks tho'- they have lots of food on sticks here- its fantastic!!

And along the lines of "Phirsts", this is the first time in my life (that I can remember) where there has been an absolute excess of mucus. Disgusting I know but its a fact. I am beginning to understand why the populous spends a great deal of time hocking up there lungs. Personally I reckon its the damn pollution and the body is trying its best to not let all that "ickiness" into itself. Sim (the Singaporean half of the couple that run the hostel) says its 'cos of the heat. Perhaps. His recommendation was green tea. Break down the offending green gobules and fix you right up he reckons. I believe him but couldn't be arsed giving it a go. Our next stop is Kunming which is at slighter higher altitude and promises more of a temperate climate.
Fingers crossed...

Its a Panda affair!

Pandas, Pandas, Pandas!
The other day (yes time is blending and I currently have no idea what day of the week it is) saw us up bright and early to go and see some pandas!! Wo-hoo! And when I say early, I mean EARLY. Up by six and out the door by 0715- criminal offence when you're on holiday I reckon!- we were on our way. Already very humid by this time, we were sweating buckets by the time we got to the research centre. Yes its a very big place called Chengdu Panda Breeding Research Centre where you get to see pandas in their "natural" habitat. Its pretty cool, but due to the heat (at least that's what we reckon) the rolly-polly bears were not very active. It was their feeding time which according to all "sources" is their most active time. That day however, I think they just preferred to keep as still as possible so as not to overheat. Can't say I blamed them either. It were stinking hot!
We saw a few having a bit of a play round, one fulla was having a bit of an itch, a couple of them were giving us a wee snore, but for the most part they were just hanging out.
The little red pandas though gave us a bit more movement. One fulla had a bit of a stretch, a bit of a scratch and a bit of a yawn. However the most active one (must have been a female) was getting in there and having a good ol' feed. Hurrah! Movement!
Triumph was to be short lived. The heavens decided to dump their entire contents upon us. While at first it was refreshing, realising you don't know how long it'll take to get back home in soaking wet clothes, we made for cover along with everyone else it seemed. Sheltering from the rain we took in the film about the average pandas life in the centre. Birth, dating, mating, food etc. Up close and personal on the big screen is a bit too graphic really for a rainy afternoon.
With a break in the weather we made a dash for it. Caught our little rickety bus and headed back to the hostel for a hot shower and a beer.
Feeling refreshed, we settled down to our beer in the bar and a night of relaxation.

Holidays rule!

Come along 'n ride...

... this fantastic voyage...

Yep, there are two other ways to train travel in China- possibly where you get to see the "real" China. The "soft seat" and the "hard seat". From Xian to Chengdu we chose the former as you get an actual seat, the latter is a matter of ambushing the seats of departing passengers. Quite a sight to see grown men fighting over a space the size of a cinema seat! (This option is obviously way cheaper than the sleepers). However, sixteen hours is too long to spend sitting on your butt while people are spitting on the floor, throwing litter out the window, being crowded in by differing levels of stink and seeing the different manner in which parents/guardians feed or water their children. Some of which is disturbing to my much sheltered and naive eye. There are "No Spitting" and "No Smoking" signs but these appear not to be "rules" but more of a "general guideline". So like the "hard sleeper" it kind of has a marae feel (in terms of socializing) but is a lot more paru (dirty).
There is little or no AC in these carriages (in part perhaps due to the sheer amount of people on the train) so fans have been life-savers! A friend gifted us some Japanese fans for which we have been very grateful, but which the hawkers have been most disappointed to see.
Arriving in Chengdu at 0530 we had been told there would be a rep there to pick us up but due to the hour we were holding out little hope. So pessimistic! We quickly spotted the sign, were just as quickly accosted by another hostel's rep, and quickly lost our rep. Both the sign and the rep had disappeared!! A movement in the peripheral, and we had found him again! Hurrah! We caught up to him in time to hear a couple say "We didn't order a free pickup". Hello? Are you mad? It's FREE!! Well he couldn't understand it either, and assuming we were Chinese (as happens more often than not, especially for my mate) preceeded to berate their foolishness (in Chinese), we couldn't agree more! So he helped us with our gear and we sped to our hostel. In the breaking daylight the area looked quite old and majestic, there's a monestary close by, and even at that hour vendors were peddling their wares. Upon arriving at the hostel, we met the foolish couple who had paid for a taxi to get there. Yes we could hardly believe it either.
As the hostel was full and our room still occupied we had to crash in a recently vacated one. And crash we did.
Lights out. Night night. Sweet dreams.

A different Xian

The Muslim Quarter. A fantastic place! Lots of markets, lots of food, gorgeous old buildings and lots of hawkers. Simply Super! The highlight of our stay in Xian. The smells, both good and bad, the exploitation of children, quite an experience for a night. The exploitation falls into two categories: "cute and clean" vs "dirty and desperate". They sell flowers. The "cute 'n clean" lot have what look like fresh flowers. The others have withered remains and hang around for longer after you say "no". Although my heart goes out to these kids, I refuse to support their continued exploitation. After all they are only 4-6yrs old and only doing what they're told.
So we wandered through the markets full of little trinkets and many a dried fruit. Quite a colourful wee market it was. We passed an experienced foreign haggler who was doing an excellent job, much to the dismay of the stall operator. And a couple of not-so-experienced hagglers, much to the joy of the stall operator.
Feeling a bit peckish we headed into a "hotpot" restaurant. Bit of a boo-boo that one. We were told that these restaurants are usually real cheap. What people forgot to mention was "if you don't buy the extras". So of course I purchased the extras. What should have been a cheap meal ended up costing us a small fortune (relatively speaking) and we had spent half an hour melting beside the "hotpot".
Quite a busy night. But after the dinner, very happy to get back to air con.
Even the nights here are humid beyond everything previoulsy experienced!
By gum! Bring on the beach!!

Attention!

After heeding the warnings about the various tours to see the Terracotta Warriors we headed out there on our own. Its way out in the countryside. On the bus journey there you pass numerous shops that are selling full size replicas of the statues. Pretty much you see the museum on the way there due to these road-side shops. When you arrive at the museum drop off point, you are immediately pounced upon by "guides". Some are official, some are not. The non-official ones confidently explain there are no English translations and they speak excellent English etc, etc, etc. Of course at your dismissal of their services they then try to sell you stuff. Enterprising to the end.
At the bus drop off point there's a shuttle that can take you to the actual entrance to the museum. This way you avoid the hawkers along the footpath. And you avoid melting in the heat. Hindsight is always a wonderful thing. Yep we chose the melting human way.
After avoiding the guides, we entered the museum and relative relief in the "pits". Nice and cool in there. It was pretty impressive to see all of these statues standing to attention. Pity the poor buggers who had to haul all of these things here though. And what does it say about the Emperor? Slightly obsessive perhaps?
There are signs everywhere that say excavation is still in progress, yet the official photos from the past look suspiciously similar to what we saw. Progress must be very slow indeed. But in the smaller pits its really cool to see the reliefs of the wooden stuff that was there; chariot wheels, roof beams etc. The details on the statues are amazing as are the weapons. And considering this whole thing is a couple of thousand years old, the shear man power and technology involved is mind-boggling. Especially when I consider what my ancestors were doing two thousand years ago...
Impressive as it was, I wasn't as gob-smacked as I thought I would be. Perhaps in part 'cos I was hot 'n hoha, or perhaps 'cos the warriors on display are replicas. Age, fire and nature having reduced the original clay warriors to pieces over the years. Taking away that "X" factor for me. Appreciation of the artisans work and the slaves sheer fortitude can never be taken away. Even the Enperor's image of grandeur can be admired.

Impressive, yes. Would I go back? Hmmm...