Upon arrival in Ninh Binh, my luck seemed to have turned from bad to worse. I was shaken awake at 4.20am by the driver of the sleeper bus (it was due to arrive at 6), and dumped on the side of the road in the dark, with absolutely no idea where I was. I walked for what seemed like miles in desperate search of my hotel, and eventually saw its flashing light in the distance - miracles do happen. However, there was still a minor problem to overcome - it was on the other side of a train track, which I could see no way of crossing. An hour later, after what seemed like an endless maze of alleyways (and a few encounters with stray dogs and rats), I somehow found it, all closed up for the night. A very sleepy man let me in and I collapsed in bed for a couple of hours.
However, my experience the following day more than made up for my middle of the night meanderings. I met an Australian man and his daughter and a guy from Switzerland in the lobby and joined them for a trip to some of the most incredible sights in the local area. We were blessed with beautiful sunshine and spent two hours being rowed through the Trang An grottoes, gasping at how stunning the scenery was at every turn. We went through several caves, ducking our heads but being left speechless by their tranquility - and, as we re-emerged outside, once again shaking our heads in disbelief at the natural beauty of the area, painstakingly maintained by the locals who waved at us as they weeded the crystal-clear waters (and only occasionally tried to take our photos and sell them to us, using printers on board their tiny row boats!).
We thought we'd been sufficiently wowed, but there were further gems to discover. These included the ruins of Hoa Lu, the ancient capital of Vietnam, and a stunning new temple complex built in 2010, the scale of which is unbelievable - especially considering that it feels like it's located in the middle of nowhere.
We stopped for a lunch of the local speciality - goat, rolled (as always) with herbs in rice paper - then avoided numerous goat droppings as we climbed 500 steps up to the panoramic view from the peak above Mua Cave. Both the climb and the views took our breath away - we could see birds flying beneath us, and for miles beyond, a mix of farms, paddy fields, building sites and complexes of houses and high-rise buildings: a true reflection of this eclectic country.
We staggered back down to the bottom and after much-needed showers we wandered around the city of Ninh Binh, stopping at a neighbourhood eatery for a bowl of steaming pho ngan (another local speciality) - it was mostly duck fat, but probably just what we needed after the day's activities.
After a good night's sleep and another stodgy breakfast of banana pancakes, I was set up to board the bus to Hanoi the next morning. I'm even getting used to the delicate balancing act of sitting on the back of a motorbike zig-zagging in and out of traffic with my backpack on my back to get to the station. Wearing a seatbelt, driving on the correct side of the road, using horns sparingly and obeying traffic lights will all come as surprises to me when I get home!
Tuesday, 18 December 2012
Monday, 17 December 2012
Humble Hue
To tell the truth, I didn't much enjoy Hue. I was probably just unlucky, but my experiences of the place weren't the most positive. As I walked to my hotel, backpack in tow, every ten seconds I would hear yet another 'Hallo! You! Where you go?', which became more and more irritating as I pressed on.
Once I finally reached my hotel and had checked in, I walked to the market (passing endless persistent taxi/motorbike/cyclo drivers all shouting at me to purchase their services) and once there was continually dragged by women to their stalls, trying to make me buy Tiger Balm, shoes and scarves, or eat their food. I found what I thought was a quieter place to sit and sample some of the banh specialities of Hue, only to be joined by swathes of women stroking my skin - and then to be charged a ridiculous amount for a meal that should have cost a fraction of the price.
I know I shouldn't be surprised by any of this. But it had been a long day, and my patience had been exhausted already. And the whole point of eating at the market is to sample local food at local prices - if I'd wanted the price tag I was given, I could have found a nice restaurant nearby, and be spared the endless staring and stroking as well.
After a futile attempt to visit the Citadel, involving yet more hassling by drivers, I decided to call it a day and head back to my hotel...which was located next door to a karaoke bar. And believe me, the Vietnamese go for volume and outlandishness over tuneful renditions. I endured three hours of it and then thanked the Lord for the midnight curfew...
Following my lack of success at the Citadel the previous day, I decided to join an organised tour to see it the next morning. Certainly, there were still postcard sellers shouting at every corner, drinks sellers meeting us off the bus, and the obligatory stops at incense stick-making and conical hat-making workshops with yet more hard sellers, but this time I had a group of other tourists to share my frustration this time!
We also went to see three emperors' tombs, which were set in picturesque, peaceful areas - a welcome escape from the chaos of the city, though accompanied by masses of mosquitos, my bite-ridden body can confirm... Towards the end of the trip it was all beginning to merge into one blur of engravings and buildings - a time to be thankful for digital cameras, I suppose.
Having been promised a bus transfer back to the hotel which turned out to be a walking bus transfer, I was extremely grateful to be able to have a shower before boarding a fourteen-hour sleeping bus to Ninh Binh, which I survived...just.
Once I finally reached my hotel and had checked in, I walked to the market (passing endless persistent taxi/motorbike/cyclo drivers all shouting at me to purchase their services) and once there was continually dragged by women to their stalls, trying to make me buy Tiger Balm, shoes and scarves, or eat their food. I found what I thought was a quieter place to sit and sample some of the banh specialities of Hue, only to be joined by swathes of women stroking my skin - and then to be charged a ridiculous amount for a meal that should have cost a fraction of the price.
I know I shouldn't be surprised by any of this. But it had been a long day, and my patience had been exhausted already. And the whole point of eating at the market is to sample local food at local prices - if I'd wanted the price tag I was given, I could have found a nice restaurant nearby, and be spared the endless staring and stroking as well.
After a futile attempt to visit the Citadel, involving yet more hassling by drivers, I decided to call it a day and head back to my hotel...which was located next door to a karaoke bar. And believe me, the Vietnamese go for volume and outlandishness over tuneful renditions. I endured three hours of it and then thanked the Lord for the midnight curfew...
Following my lack of success at the Citadel the previous day, I decided to join an organised tour to see it the next morning. Certainly, there were still postcard sellers shouting at every corner, drinks sellers meeting us off the bus, and the obligatory stops at incense stick-making and conical hat-making workshops with yet more hard sellers, but this time I had a group of other tourists to share my frustration this time!
We also went to see three emperors' tombs, which were set in picturesque, peaceful areas - a welcome escape from the chaos of the city, though accompanied by masses of mosquitos, my bite-ridden body can confirm... Towards the end of the trip it was all beginning to merge into one blur of engravings and buildings - a time to be thankful for digital cameras, I suppose.
Having been promised a bus transfer back to the hotel which turned out to be a walking bus transfer, I was extremely grateful to be able to have a shower before boarding a fourteen-hour sleeping bus to Ninh Binh, which I survived...just.
Sunday, 16 December 2012
Hoi Antics
I chose to visit what was described on my hotel's tour leaflet as 'My Son Holly Land' on my second day in Hoi An, excited for the Christmassy treats in store. In fact, it turned out to be ruins of an ancient religious site, explained our professional conman tour guide, collecting 60...er...100,000 dong from us for the privilege.
It's not Angkor Wat, but must have been a pretty impressive structure before it was ruined by bombings in the Vietnam War (the craters are gigantic), or the heads of the statues removed by the French (they're now in the Louvre, if you're interested). What's left is rather sparse, and the tour was made even more dismal by yet more rain. Naturally, our tour guide wasn't going to miss another money-making opportunity and collected money to buy us ponchos. Only this time I'd remembered the raincoat, ha!
Back in Hoi An, I embraced the slow pace of life by hopping between coffee shops, writing postcards and sharing stories with fellow travellers. I ate dinner at the market, sampling Hoi An specialities such as 'White Rose' (rice paper dumplings of some kind) and cao lau - pork served with noodles supposedly made with water from the town's famous Ba Le Well. As with many stories in Vietnam, it's best to be sceptical about the provenance of said noodles and just enjoy them for what they are: yummy and filling.
In the evening I joined some friends I'd made during the tour and at my hostel to go to a bar with unlimited drinks for 100,000 dong (for those used to Western money, that's not a huge amount - in fact it's an obscenely small sum of money).
However, before we were able to fully exploit the perks of the offer, the music came to a stop and the place was hastily closed up by the police, who marched us out - my first experience of the midnight curfew supposedly enforced throughout the country. Though with a 7am bus to catch the next day, perhaps it was a blessing in disguise!
It's not Angkor Wat, but must have been a pretty impressive structure before it was ruined by bombings in the Vietnam War (the craters are gigantic), or the heads of the statues removed by the French (they're now in the Louvre, if you're interested). What's left is rather sparse, and the tour was made even more dismal by yet more rain. Naturally, our tour guide wasn't going to miss another money-making opportunity and collected money to buy us ponchos. Only this time I'd remembered the raincoat, ha!
Back in Hoi An, I embraced the slow pace of life by hopping between coffee shops, writing postcards and sharing stories with fellow travellers. I ate dinner at the market, sampling Hoi An specialities such as 'White Rose' (rice paper dumplings of some kind) and cao lau - pork served with noodles supposedly made with water from the town's famous Ba Le Well. As with many stories in Vietnam, it's best to be sceptical about the provenance of said noodles and just enjoy them for what they are: yummy and filling.
In the evening I joined some friends I'd made during the tour and at my hostel to go to a bar with unlimited drinks for 100,000 dong (for those used to Western money, that's not a huge amount - in fact it's an obscenely small sum of money).
However, before we were able to fully exploit the perks of the offer, the music came to a stop and the place was hastily closed up by the police, who marched us out - my first experience of the midnight curfew supposedly enforced throughout the country. Though with a 7am bus to catch the next day, perhaps it was a blessing in disguise!
Saturday, 15 December 2012
Lantern town
Hoi An is charming. It's a welcome escape from the frenetic pace of life elsewhere in Vietnam, with precious few motorbikes zipping past, and smiling, friendly people who aren't as persistent with their 'Hallo! Moto-bike! Where you go? I take you moto-bike!' routine.
But there's a catch. When it rains, it pours. Locals and tourists embrace their garishly-coloured ponchos and attempt to carry on with their activities, but I was caught out on my first night, and trudged home through the puddles wearing shorts and flip-flops. Not fun.
Still, I'm glad I ventured out - the Old Town at night is magical, with colourful lanterns lighting up the river and couples eating romantic dinners on its banks. As for me, I decided my soaking wet attire wouldn't go down so well in the restaurants, so I had my first banh mi from a street vendor instead. It hit the spot perfectly - a crusty French baguette filled with meats, pates, cucumber and herbs, drizzled with special sauces. Delicious.
I was up early the next morning, so wandered through the maze of streets in the Old Town, passing families chomping on pho for breakfast. I stumbled upon a cafe that offered cooking classes and decided to give it a go. The head chef took a small group of us around the market, introducing us to the herbs and spices and fruits and vegetables that are fundamental ingredients in Vietnamese cuisine, and showed us all the gory detail of the meat and fish selection too. Just the way to work up an appetite...
We then took a lovely boat trip to the secluded cookery school, which was gorgeous. We went on a tour around its herb garden before learning how to make rice paper rolls, banh xeo (savoury crepes), and clay pot dishes - and eating the results. And in case we were still hungry, they cooked us a huge lunch afterwards too.
Sufficiently fuelled for an afternoon of strolling around the Old Town, I later attempted to suck in my belly and go for a clothes fitting - Hoi An's tailors are famous for being able to make almost anything to measure. Alas, I was too indecisive to choose something - maybe next time...
As if my colossal lunch hadn't been enough, I later went to a restaurant that is hugely popular with locals called the Ba Le Well, where you are continually brought grilled pork skewers, banh xeo and spring rolls until you can manage no more, all for 90,000 dong. I'm fairly sure I ate my way through an entire pig - and as the owner patted my belly and said 'Happy Buddha', I think he would agree.
If the endless food wasn't a big enough incentive to remain there all night, the recommenced rainfall made it difficult to leave as well. Cursing myself for not having learnt my lesson the night before, I waded my way back to the hostel yet again - no doubt to the amusement of the savvy street vendors sheltered under their umbrellas and ponchos. Next time, the pac-a-mac is coming along too.
But there's a catch. When it rains, it pours. Locals and tourists embrace their garishly-coloured ponchos and attempt to carry on with their activities, but I was caught out on my first night, and trudged home through the puddles wearing shorts and flip-flops. Not fun.
Still, I'm glad I ventured out - the Old Town at night is magical, with colourful lanterns lighting up the river and couples eating romantic dinners on its banks. As for me, I decided my soaking wet attire wouldn't go down so well in the restaurants, so I had my first banh mi from a street vendor instead. It hit the spot perfectly - a crusty French baguette filled with meats, pates, cucumber and herbs, drizzled with special sauces. Delicious.
I was up early the next morning, so wandered through the maze of streets in the Old Town, passing families chomping on pho for breakfast. I stumbled upon a cafe that offered cooking classes and decided to give it a go. The head chef took a small group of us around the market, introducing us to the herbs and spices and fruits and vegetables that are fundamental ingredients in Vietnamese cuisine, and showed us all the gory detail of the meat and fish selection too. Just the way to work up an appetite...
We then took a lovely boat trip to the secluded cookery school, which was gorgeous. We went on a tour around its herb garden before learning how to make rice paper rolls, banh xeo (savoury crepes), and clay pot dishes - and eating the results. And in case we were still hungry, they cooked us a huge lunch afterwards too.
Sufficiently fuelled for an afternoon of strolling around the Old Town, I later attempted to suck in my belly and go for a clothes fitting - Hoi An's tailors are famous for being able to make almost anything to measure. Alas, I was too indecisive to choose something - maybe next time...
As if my colossal lunch hadn't been enough, I later went to a restaurant that is hugely popular with locals called the Ba Le Well, where you are continually brought grilled pork skewers, banh xeo and spring rolls until you can manage no more, all for 90,000 dong. I'm fairly sure I ate my way through an entire pig - and as the owner patted my belly and said 'Happy Buddha', I think he would agree.
If the endless food wasn't a big enough incentive to remain there all night, the recommenced rainfall made it difficult to leave as well. Cursing myself for not having learnt my lesson the night before, I waded my way back to the hostel yet again - no doubt to the amusement of the savvy street vendors sheltered under their umbrellas and ponchos. Next time, the pac-a-mac is coming along too.
Friday, 14 December 2012
Dalat-ful
I probably didn't pick the best route for my first experience of Vietnamese bus rides - the roads up to the hill town of Dalat are endlessly winding, and the constant soundtrack of families fighting, music playing, children crying and the driver honking his horn made it difficult to catch up on sleep - even with my industrial-strength earplugs.
It didn't matter though; the views were breathtaking, and as we got higher we became surrounded by clouds, only to emerge to a town that could be part of France transplanted in Vietnam. Pastel-coloured villas, a beautiful lake, romantic fountains, endless green farms and hills - it's a beautiful place.
But what made my experience magical was the hospitality I received at my hotel. Run by a wife and husband team with an exceedingly cute little girl, the owner of the hotel, Adfa, insisted on taking me out on a motorbike ride with her daughter to see the city at night. Couples were taking photographs by the fountains, taking rides on swan pedalos on the flood-lit lake, or just walking around hand-in-hand with smiles across their faces. I could see why this is the honeymoon capital of Vietnam.
We visited the market and Adfa recommended some local produce for me to buy, then took care of the haggling so that I wasn't ripped off. We stopped and pulled up tiny plastic schools (think of those you used to sit on at nursery school) and enjoyed some green bean tea (I've no idea what the green beans are, but they're certainly sweeter than the kind served with the Sunday roast back home), then walked around the winding streets, stopping at a Vietnamese bakery for me to discover the joys of sticky rice cakes, banana cakes, coconut mille feuille and all sorts of other exceedingly sweet treats.
We zipped back to the hotel and I tucked myself up in a huge bed - a welcome change from the dorm bunks I've been used to so far - and indulged in an evening of chuckling at Mr. Bean on TV. Bliss.
The next morning I went to the 'Crazy House', which is a rather out-of-place, Gaudi-like building filled with endless wacky figurines and mazes of staircases and tunnels. Apparently you can stay there - there's even a honeymoon suite - though I'm not sure what waking up to the gaze of a giant pelican statue would be like...
Adfa then took me out on another trip, up to a serene pagoda with stunning views, which we absorbed along with some Dalat milk (the best in Vietnam, apparently) and rice cakes. I took a cable car trip - cue more breathtaking views - and Adfa met me the other side with her motorbike, then showed me the flower gardens, the cute (but now defunct) railway station, and the church, before stopping for a snack of papaya salad and che. At this rate it might not be the best idea to continue sitting on the tiny plastic stools...
Our next stop was an astonishing temple, where a gigantic statue has been made entirely from flowers. Lest I go hungry again, Adfa took me back home and cooked me a lunch of pork, shrimp, salad and greens, which made a pleasant change from the rather gristly frog I had been served up at a restaurant the night before.
It was time for a nap before I caught my flight to Danang, with Adfa again insisting that she took me to the meeting point for the transfer bus. I have never experienced hospitality like that which I received in Dalat - and after the sad number of scams and rip-offs that are a constant reality for tourists elsewhere in Vietnam, it was a breath of fresh air. I only wish I could have stayed for longer - I guess I'll just have to go back one day.
It didn't matter though; the views were breathtaking, and as we got higher we became surrounded by clouds, only to emerge to a town that could be part of France transplanted in Vietnam. Pastel-coloured villas, a beautiful lake, romantic fountains, endless green farms and hills - it's a beautiful place.
But what made my experience magical was the hospitality I received at my hotel. Run by a wife and husband team with an exceedingly cute little girl, the owner of the hotel, Adfa, insisted on taking me out on a motorbike ride with her daughter to see the city at night. Couples were taking photographs by the fountains, taking rides on swan pedalos on the flood-lit lake, or just walking around hand-in-hand with smiles across their faces. I could see why this is the honeymoon capital of Vietnam.
We visited the market and Adfa recommended some local produce for me to buy, then took care of the haggling so that I wasn't ripped off. We stopped and pulled up tiny plastic schools (think of those you used to sit on at nursery school) and enjoyed some green bean tea (I've no idea what the green beans are, but they're certainly sweeter than the kind served with the Sunday roast back home), then walked around the winding streets, stopping at a Vietnamese bakery for me to discover the joys of sticky rice cakes, banana cakes, coconut mille feuille and all sorts of other exceedingly sweet treats.
We zipped back to the hotel and I tucked myself up in a huge bed - a welcome change from the dorm bunks I've been used to so far - and indulged in an evening of chuckling at Mr. Bean on TV. Bliss.
The next morning I went to the 'Crazy House', which is a rather out-of-place, Gaudi-like building filled with endless wacky figurines and mazes of staircases and tunnels. Apparently you can stay there - there's even a honeymoon suite - though I'm not sure what waking up to the gaze of a giant pelican statue would be like...
Adfa then took me out on another trip, up to a serene pagoda with stunning views, which we absorbed along with some Dalat milk (the best in Vietnam, apparently) and rice cakes. I took a cable car trip - cue more breathtaking views - and Adfa met me the other side with her motorbike, then showed me the flower gardens, the cute (but now defunct) railway station, and the church, before stopping for a snack of papaya salad and che. At this rate it might not be the best idea to continue sitting on the tiny plastic stools...
Our next stop was an astonishing temple, where a gigantic statue has been made entirely from flowers. Lest I go hungry again, Adfa took me back home and cooked me a lunch of pork, shrimp, salad and greens, which made a pleasant change from the rather gristly frog I had been served up at a restaurant the night before.
It was time for a nap before I caught my flight to Danang, with Adfa again insisting that she took me to the meeting point for the transfer bus. I have never experienced hospitality like that which I received in Dalat - and after the sad number of scams and rip-offs that are a constant reality for tourists elsewhere in Vietnam, it was a breath of fresh air. I only wish I could have stayed for longer - I guess I'll just have to go back one day.
Thursday, 13 December 2012
A Nha Trangover
Note to self: it helps to put suncream on one's back when snorkelling in 40-degree heat. Carrying a backpack on a blistering, red back is excrutiatingly painful.
But the pain was worth it - my snorkelling trip in Nha Trang was sensational. One of the pleasant surprises of travelling so far has been the number of French and German speakers I've met along the way - I've had more opportunities to practise my languages in Vietnam than I would normally have back home in England! The boat trip to the islands of Hon Mun and Hon Mot was no exception - the other participants were all German, other than two lovely Aussie girls who persuaded me to throw myself off the top deck of the boat with them many a time, despite almost losing my bikini on several occasions (no wonder the fish swam a mile as soon as we came close...).
We got to see some amazing coral and fish, including one with a very long nose that I called a 'pinocchio fish' (I'm fairly sure it has a proper name, but you get the idea), and lion fish. It was my first time snorkelling and to be able to swim in such crystal clear water and get so close to the fish was wonderful - we could even pick up the jellyfish and throw them at each other (not that we would ever do so cruel a thing).
Our boat was basic but had everything we needed - sun loungers on the top, and the wherewithal for our guide to cook us a fabulous feast of prawns, frog, fish, egg, noodles, rice and some exceedingly garlicky morning glory for lunch. The Vietnamese have a wonderful way of observing the law - we were told to wear our life jackets for a total of about 15 seconds as we left the port, before taking them off again.
As we made our way back to the harbour, we passed a hill with a huge Hollywood-style sign on it which read 'Vinpearl' - apparently it's hugely popular with the Vietnamese, who go wild for the kitsch rides and Asia's longest cable car (wow!) that connects it to Nha Trang. It certainly caters to local tastes (read: over-the-top and excessively commercial) rather than Western inclinations, so we gave it a miss and watched the sunset from the slightly less commercial (but still unashamedly touristy) Nha Trang beach instead.
Rather than lament the somewhat spoilt natural beauty of the resort, the Aussie girls and I decided to accept it for what it was worth, by taking advantage of the variety of free cocktails on offer to ladies in the many bars in the city. Nha Trang might be a party town, but when you're operating on Vietnamese time (getting up at the crack of dawn and being in bed by 9pm at the latest), it's hard to be a party animal. After sampling the dubious delights of 'free Oasis shots', having an ominous-looking blue concoction poured into our mouths from a giant bottle, and making our way through a 'jamjar', we could barely keep our eyes open. We called it a night and let the other travellers do the partying for us.
The next morning I enjoyed a lovely breakfast of banana pancakes on the roof terrace of my hostel, cooked by a very sweet girl who said I could be the next Miss World and asked if we could 'swap skins'. Perhaps not.
However, after another sizzling session on the beach (when will I learn...), I was willing to reconsider my decision. Let's just say that camomile lotion is my best friend at the present moment.
I soon decided it was high time to leave Nha Trang, lest I burn to a crisp. Stifling cries of pain, I mounted my backpack on my bright red back once again, and boarded a bus up to the hills of Dalat, a stark contrst with the temptations endless sunbathing on the beach, but equally charming in its own right.
But the pain was worth it - my snorkelling trip in Nha Trang was sensational. One of the pleasant surprises of travelling so far has been the number of French and German speakers I've met along the way - I've had more opportunities to practise my languages in Vietnam than I would normally have back home in England! The boat trip to the islands of Hon Mun and Hon Mot was no exception - the other participants were all German, other than two lovely Aussie girls who persuaded me to throw myself off the top deck of the boat with them many a time, despite almost losing my bikini on several occasions (no wonder the fish swam a mile as soon as we came close...).
We got to see some amazing coral and fish, including one with a very long nose that I called a 'pinocchio fish' (I'm fairly sure it has a proper name, but you get the idea), and lion fish. It was my first time snorkelling and to be able to swim in such crystal clear water and get so close to the fish was wonderful - we could even pick up the jellyfish and throw them at each other (not that we would ever do so cruel a thing).
Our boat was basic but had everything we needed - sun loungers on the top, and the wherewithal for our guide to cook us a fabulous feast of prawns, frog, fish, egg, noodles, rice and some exceedingly garlicky morning glory for lunch. The Vietnamese have a wonderful way of observing the law - we were told to wear our life jackets for a total of about 15 seconds as we left the port, before taking them off again.
As we made our way back to the harbour, we passed a hill with a huge Hollywood-style sign on it which read 'Vinpearl' - apparently it's hugely popular with the Vietnamese, who go wild for the kitsch rides and Asia's longest cable car (wow!) that connects it to Nha Trang. It certainly caters to local tastes (read: over-the-top and excessively commercial) rather than Western inclinations, so we gave it a miss and watched the sunset from the slightly less commercial (but still unashamedly touristy) Nha Trang beach instead.
Rather than lament the somewhat spoilt natural beauty of the resort, the Aussie girls and I decided to accept it for what it was worth, by taking advantage of the variety of free cocktails on offer to ladies in the many bars in the city. Nha Trang might be a party town, but when you're operating on Vietnamese time (getting up at the crack of dawn and being in bed by 9pm at the latest), it's hard to be a party animal. After sampling the dubious delights of 'free Oasis shots', having an ominous-looking blue concoction poured into our mouths from a giant bottle, and making our way through a 'jamjar', we could barely keep our eyes open. We called it a night and let the other travellers do the partying for us.
The next morning I enjoyed a lovely breakfast of banana pancakes on the roof terrace of my hostel, cooked by a very sweet girl who said I could be the next Miss World and asked if we could 'swap skins'. Perhaps not.
However, after another sizzling session on the beach (when will I learn...), I was willing to reconsider my decision. Let's just say that camomile lotion is my best friend at the present moment.
I soon decided it was high time to leave Nha Trang, lest I burn to a crisp. Stifling cries of pain, I mounted my backpack on my bright red back once again, and boarded a bus up to the hills of Dalat, a stark contrst with the temptations endless sunbathing on the beach, but equally charming in its own right.
Wednesday, 12 December 2012
So long, Saigon
Having said farewell to Felix and Tom, I spent my last full day in Ho Chi Minh City on my own, finding companionship with all sorts of creatures at the zoo (as you do). There were lots of elephants, giraffes, lions, tigers and monkeys to keep me entertained, although some of the Vietnamese visitors seemed to take more interest in me than the animals!
I then walked to the Jade Emperor Pagoda, where there were numerous gargoyle-like figures casting disapproving looks at me, so I hastily moved on to Ben Thanh market for a lunch of chao tom (grilled sugar cane rolled in shrimp paste) and banh xeo (a gigantic crepe stuffed with prawns, meat, beansprouts and vegetables, then eaten rolled in lettuce leaves).
I had some time to kill in the afternoon so decided to give some of the bargain beauty treatments a try - with mixed success. I passed on a haircut after seeing a woman having her locks tugged aggressively in an attempt to de-tangle them, and instead chose an eyebrow wax and a pedicure. The pedicure was great, but as for the eyebrows, let's just say that I'm thankful that I won't be back home for a good two weeks yet - rather than wax under the eyebrow, they wax above it here, to rather bizarre effect...
Fortunately I was able to drown my sorrows as a family friend who works in Ho Chi Minh City invited me for drinks in the evening. We eventually ended up at a Vietnamese gay bar, which was the first time during my trip that I've felt completely at ease in a masculine environment - no staring, no attempts to make me buy something or take a motorbike trip, just lots of good fun (and plenty of bad dancing!).
I then walked to the Jade Emperor Pagoda, where there were numerous gargoyle-like figures casting disapproving looks at me, so I hastily moved on to Ben Thanh market for a lunch of chao tom (grilled sugar cane rolled in shrimp paste) and banh xeo (a gigantic crepe stuffed with prawns, meat, beansprouts and vegetables, then eaten rolled in lettuce leaves).
I had some time to kill in the afternoon so decided to give some of the bargain beauty treatments a try - with mixed success. I passed on a haircut after seeing a woman having her locks tugged aggressively in an attempt to de-tangle them, and instead chose an eyebrow wax and a pedicure. The pedicure was great, but as for the eyebrows, let's just say that I'm thankful that I won't be back home for a good two weeks yet - rather than wax under the eyebrow, they wax above it here, to rather bizarre effect...
Fortunately I was able to drown my sorrows as a family friend who works in Ho Chi Minh City invited me for drinks in the evening. We eventually ended up at a Vietnamese gay bar, which was the first time during my trip that I've felt completely at ease in a masculine environment - no staring, no attempts to make me buy something or take a motorbike trip, just lots of good fun (and plenty of bad dancing!).
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