I have so much ground to cover figuratively having not kept up with the blog when we have covered so much ground physically. I last wrote about my encounters in Dalat that lead us to the seaside town of Nha Trang. I have failed to write since then about Nha Trang, Hoi An, Hue and Hanoi.
As you will have already noticed most of my blogs have been about the clashing of our culture with the far east. However, it seems that these last few places are best talked about in relation to specific moments where something was definitely lost in translation.
To start where I left off then with Nha Trang. This large beach town reminded me of an under-developed version of Miami with the tall hotels and apartment buildings lining the coast. If you turned your back on all of this the view out accross the water was still beautiful.
We spent our time on the beach and enjoying the "buzzing" nightlife. It was not a place to immerse yourself in culture. Our most memorable experience came from (as ever) a day trip on a boat which included seeing a few of the surrounding islands. This was all lovely except when, after lunch, the guide said that a famous Vietnamese boyband were going to play for us all. We of course thought he was joking. In a matter of minutes the table we had eaten lunch on was turned into a stage and a few of the crew were tuning guitars and had set up a drum kit. They proceeded to play a few Vietnamese songs but most of the time was spent with the guide/lead singer thrusting at all the girls on board. Of course I was sat right in the middle didn't quite know where to look. Before anyone asks-no he was not cute. He was 40 if a day and kept saying things like "Up the bum no baby". Culture clash number one.
The second occurred in Hoi An that is famed for its tailoring. Unfortunately, we seemed to pick the most reluctant tailors in the town.I got a dress and Lizzie had a dress and playsuit made. After the initial measurements we came back for a fitting and all garments had to be adjusted. That was fine but when we returned and my dress was now a little too big and Lizzies' were still not right they seemed to become...well...arsey. When we came back a third time they quite obviously wanted to see the back of us and all pretence of friendliness had vanished. My dress was slightly baggy and Lizzie's playsuit was slightly too small. It seemed that my width and Lizzie's height was alien to them. Culture clash number two.
Hue was fairly uneventful and really quite pretty. We spent our time enjoying the old citadel and the surrounding countryside. Our only problem ocurred when we thought we had agreed a fixed price with a cyclo driver and we had not. It wasn't pretty.
We were very excited to get to Hanoi becasue we knew a few people who had told us it was their favourite city while travelling and we were keen to see what all the fuss was about.
A majority of our time was spent wandering around the the old quarter where we were staying. We could get lost for hours in the narrow winding streets that were crowded with restaurants, bars and shops.
I felt that I should try and experience some culture before we left the city so I went to see the Museum of Ethnology. Oh what a mistake. I seemed to attract the moto drivers from hell.
The one who took me there (after some rather heated haggling) was chatting away quite politely about where I was from and where I was staying, all joking and light. He then asked if my dorm was mixed or just girls. "Just girls", I said happily. Although this hadn't been our choice I was pleased not to be seen as another easy Westerner.
"I think you have more fun in mixed dorm", he said.
I just laughed thinking he was being funny. He was quiet for a minute and then said, "After you have been to Museum you spend an hour with me". This should have been my first warning but I thought he wanted me to spend more money getting him to show me the city.
"No thank you. I have to get back to meet my friend".
"Oh come on you come back and have fun with me". This same dialogue continued for a bit until I realised that he didn't want to show me the odd Pagoda or War monument. I continued to be polite.
"No thank you".
"Oh come on you come for half an hour".
"No".
The fact the amount of suggestively allotted time had decreased hardly made me keener.
"Don't you want to see my big banana?" shockingly he actually said that. I wondered how successful I would be at rolling off the bike at the next corner. I was wearing a maxi dress and this made the manoeuver far more complicated. I thought I might just be able to beat him into a stupor with my Lonely Planet if he didn't back off. I kept saying "No" for another few minutes.
"Why not? I like women you like men"he said.
Ah, get out clause here.
"Actually I like women", I ventured.
"Bullshit".
I don't think they really believe in lesbians here.
We still weren't at the museum and I was beginnning to wonder if he was taking me back to his house to have his wicked half an hour with me.
"You come with me and you will be happy".
I tried to explain that it wouldn'tmake me happy.
"I tried Vietnamese women but never Western woman".
"I'm flattered you want to "try" me but still no".
Thankfully we were approaching the museum. I warned him that it would be very unpleasent should he still be there when I came out.
On the way back the driver barley talked to me which was a relief. It was only when he tried to dupe me out of 100 dong by pretending he hadn't just put the note I'd given him in his back pocket, that I almost throttled him.
I got back to the room and flopped down on the bed vowing never to leave the room again.
Tuesday 25 May 2010
Thursday 13 May 2010
Week 11: Easy Riding
Sometimes in life you just have to say "Fuck it"- you throw caution to the wind and deal with the consequences later. I have never been that person. However, when given the opportunity to spend three days on the back of a motorbike with a man I didn't know, how could I refuse?
What I am referring to are the "Easy Riders" of Dalat in Vietnam. Dalat is a sizable town up in the Central Highlands. The surrounding area is full of delightful mountains, waterfalls and many minority villages. The service the Easy Riders offer is unique in that they take you on a guided tour of the area on the back of a motorbike. The idea is that you can have a more personal tour and see more of the country with someone who knows about it.
When we first arrived in Dalat we were approached by a Mr Phuc and a Mr Thien who encouraged us to take their tour. After they'd followed us to our hotel and waited outside we felt we should hear them out. We saw that they did a three day tour to Nha Trang (our next destination) that took us to many exciting places along the way and the opportunity to stay overnight in one of the villages. They were both very enthusiastic about the trip and convinced us that the three day tour was our best option.
We handed over a deposit and agreed to start the trip the very next day. Although we'd only just arrived the initial part of the tour took us around the vicinity of Dalat and then beyond.
Although we had happily agreed to the tour we still had concerns; I had never been on the back of a motorbike before and worried about falling off; Lizzie worried it wouldn't be fun; I worried we'd be raped and murdered; Lizzie worried she'd burn her leg on the exhaust; I began worrying I'd burn my leg on the exhaust. But the Easy Riders had been recommended by guides and other travelers alike so we spent the night in Dalat convincing ourselves all would be well.
When Mr Phuc and Mr Thien met us at our hotel it seemed I would ride on the back of Mr Thien's bike and Lizzie would ride with Mr Phuc. There seemed no problem with this as both had seemed perfectly nice the previous evening and I was comforted by the fact that Mr Thien's English was slightly better.
It was clear after the first few hours that our guides were very different.
Now that we had handed over our money Mr Thien saw no need in making small talk or in fact talking to me at all. The only times when he would speak were to explain a point we'd stopped at or berate my choice of clothing. During that first day Mr Thien huffed every time I climbed on the bike because I was wearing jeans and this meant I had to stand on the foot rest to throw my legs over meaning that the bike would tip every time I did this. I tried to explain it wasn't the jeans but the fact I was too short. He ignored this and said I should wear something more appropriate tomorrow.
By comparison, when Lizzie rode with the smiley Mr. Phuc his phone went off. The ringtone was Barbie Girl by Aqua and he then proceeded to sing along. He also said that in his next life he would like to be a pig. Lizzie understandably asked why to which he replied, "All they do is get fed by women and sleep. I think it would be nice". Mr. Phuc was both adorably sweet and unknowingly funny. Mr. Thien was neither.
On our first day we visited the "Crazy House"- a hotel designed to look something like Alice in Wonderland meets a Dali painting- the Dragon temple, the Elephant waterfall, a flower farm and many villages. Despite the unfriendly nature of my guide both men were very good at explaining each visited spot and the importance in Vietnamese culture.
Over the three days we kept stopping in villages inhabited by Vietnamese minorities. Although interesting it was exceptionally awkward. Mr. Thien would lead us around showing us the differing designs of the houses and the farmland they owned. This was fine. It became uncomfortable when we went into a few people's houses and while it was amazing to see how differently people lived we couldn't help feeling we were looking at these people and their lives like animals in a zoo. It didn't help that Mr. Thien encouraged us to take pictures saying, "They don't mind they happy". This was empahsised when Mr Thien showed us a Ho Chi Minh trail bike which could carry an 300kg. He dressed Lizzie up in a conical hat and made us both pretend to push it. We felt like we were violating the culture somehow.
By the end of a brilliant but very long first day we were offered the opportunity to do a homestay in one of the villages. By "homestay" we had understood that we would be staying in a family's house. We were lead to a cabin on stilts where, inside, was an empty room of about 20m by 8m except for two mattresses with mosquito nets and electric fans. This was our room for the night. Rather surprised, and a little confused, we quickly fell asleep and only woke the next morning to the sound of tractors, cows and the constant crowing of the cockerel.
I started our second day with renewed enthusiasm thinking that maybe Mr. Thien had just been having an off day before. He hadn't. He was still rude and still unfriendly.
We stopped at various places again along the way but most memorably another waterfall surrounded by jungle where we swam for a few hours.
It was a really stunning spot with crystal clear water that we welcomed after the intense heat of the morning. The only thing that worried me was when Mr Phuc (who had just done an over-zealous butterfly stroke across to reach us) said that an Easy Rider Driver had died here a few years before. Dumbstruck with horror Lizzie tentatively asked how. Mr Phuc went on to explain, laughing as he did so, that the guide had gotten cramp and the tourists that were with him didn't understand what was going on until it was too late. We tried to express our condolences but Mr. Phuc just seemed to find it funny. We couldn't begrudge him though- maybe he thought his friend was now happier as a pig?
After "gracefully clambering" as Lizzie put it, back up the path to the bikes we carried on with our journey.
We stopped at a few more villages and several spots where the effects of Agent Orange were most prevalent.
Mr. Thien explained how the Americans had sprayed the chemical to kill off all the plants and crops of their enemy. What we didn't realise was that more than thirty years later the land would still be effected by it. It looked like patches of the hillsides were bald where things still couldn't be cultivated. More importantly it means that the small villages surrounding it are even poorer than the ones we had previously seen because they can't grow food to feed their families. I was just happy that the Vietnam War was one that Britain had decided to stay out of.
That evening, we were glad to be staying in a little hotel that both guides proudly told us had 2 stars. We were surprised by the level of luxury it gave us; it had a TV, a bath (granted no plug but I still sat in it) and air conditioning. We felt very taken care of. We all once again ate together at a restaurant and Mr Phuc made good company where as Mr. Thien went and sat at a different table once he'd finished.
We quite happily passed out in our huge beds and were a little sad at the prospect of spending our last day with Mr. Phuc and wondering if I could casually push Mr. Thien off the bike. Not so he seriously hurt himself just a scratch or two maybe.
On our final day we had a lot of ground to cover to get to Nha Trang and so a majority of the day was spent on the bike. We still managed to stop at a small basket market, a rubber tree forest, a cocoa plantation, a pepper plantation and a brick factory. These may not sound the most exciting things but we had never seen cocoa pods growing or peppercorns on a tree or even see people make bricks and so it was interesting if anything just to see a little more of the country and the work people do.
Even with these stops we still spent a lot of time on the bike and after a while my bum lost all feeling. Mr Thien seemed even less happy when I tried to shift my weight, as I had done before, and managed to make the bike almost veer off the road. Our relationship was never going to recover after that.
By mid-afternoon we arrived in the beautiful seaside resort of Nha Trang and were sad to say goodbye. Despite Mr. Thien's continual rudeness we had really enjoyed ourselves and definitely seen more of the country we could have ever of otherwise hoped for.
Lizzie wrote a stellar review for Phuc in his comment book. I was more reserved with my opinion. Mr. Thien reminded me three times to write a review for him online. He even said that he would be going on the next day to check and "Hoped he would see my review on there". I have yet to compose exactly the right phrasing for such a review all I know is that it will contain the words "bad-mannered" and "arse".
What I am referring to are the "Easy Riders" of Dalat in Vietnam. Dalat is a sizable town up in the Central Highlands. The surrounding area is full of delightful mountains, waterfalls and many minority villages. The service the Easy Riders offer is unique in that they take you on a guided tour of the area on the back of a motorbike. The idea is that you can have a more personal tour and see more of the country with someone who knows about it.
When we first arrived in Dalat we were approached by a Mr Phuc and a Mr Thien who encouraged us to take their tour. After they'd followed us to our hotel and waited outside we felt we should hear them out. We saw that they did a three day tour to Nha Trang (our next destination) that took us to many exciting places along the way and the opportunity to stay overnight in one of the villages. They were both very enthusiastic about the trip and convinced us that the three day tour was our best option.
We handed over a deposit and agreed to start the trip the very next day. Although we'd only just arrived the initial part of the tour took us around the vicinity of Dalat and then beyond.
Although we had happily agreed to the tour we still had concerns; I had never been on the back of a motorbike before and worried about falling off; Lizzie worried it wouldn't be fun; I worried we'd be raped and murdered; Lizzie worried she'd burn her leg on the exhaust; I began worrying I'd burn my leg on the exhaust. But the Easy Riders had been recommended by guides and other travelers alike so we spent the night in Dalat convincing ourselves all would be well.
When Mr Phuc and Mr Thien met us at our hotel it seemed I would ride on the back of Mr Thien's bike and Lizzie would ride with Mr Phuc. There seemed no problem with this as both had seemed perfectly nice the previous evening and I was comforted by the fact that Mr Thien's English was slightly better.
It was clear after the first few hours that our guides were very different.
Now that we had handed over our money Mr Thien saw no need in making small talk or in fact talking to me at all. The only times when he would speak were to explain a point we'd stopped at or berate my choice of clothing. During that first day Mr Thien huffed every time I climbed on the bike because I was wearing jeans and this meant I had to stand on the foot rest to throw my legs over meaning that the bike would tip every time I did this. I tried to explain it wasn't the jeans but the fact I was too short. He ignored this and said I should wear something more appropriate tomorrow.
By comparison, when Lizzie rode with the smiley Mr. Phuc his phone went off. The ringtone was Barbie Girl by Aqua and he then proceeded to sing along. He also said that in his next life he would like to be a pig. Lizzie understandably asked why to which he replied, "All they do is get fed by women and sleep. I think it would be nice". Mr. Phuc was both adorably sweet and unknowingly funny. Mr. Thien was neither.
On our first day we visited the "Crazy House"- a hotel designed to look something like Alice in Wonderland meets a Dali painting- the Dragon temple, the Elephant waterfall, a flower farm and many villages. Despite the unfriendly nature of my guide both men were very good at explaining each visited spot and the importance in Vietnamese culture.
Over the three days we kept stopping in villages inhabited by Vietnamese minorities. Although interesting it was exceptionally awkward. Mr. Thien would lead us around showing us the differing designs of the houses and the farmland they owned. This was fine. It became uncomfortable when we went into a few people's houses and while it was amazing to see how differently people lived we couldn't help feeling we were looking at these people and their lives like animals in a zoo. It didn't help that Mr. Thien encouraged us to take pictures saying, "They don't mind they happy". This was empahsised when Mr Thien showed us a Ho Chi Minh trail bike which could carry an 300kg. He dressed Lizzie up in a conical hat and made us both pretend to push it. We felt like we were violating the culture somehow.
By the end of a brilliant but very long first day we were offered the opportunity to do a homestay in one of the villages. By "homestay" we had understood that we would be staying in a family's house. We were lead to a cabin on stilts where, inside, was an empty room of about 20m by 8m except for two mattresses with mosquito nets and electric fans. This was our room for the night. Rather surprised, and a little confused, we quickly fell asleep and only woke the next morning to the sound of tractors, cows and the constant crowing of the cockerel.
I started our second day with renewed enthusiasm thinking that maybe Mr. Thien had just been having an off day before. He hadn't. He was still rude and still unfriendly.
We stopped at various places again along the way but most memorably another waterfall surrounded by jungle where we swam for a few hours.
It was a really stunning spot with crystal clear water that we welcomed after the intense heat of the morning. The only thing that worried me was when Mr Phuc (who had just done an over-zealous butterfly stroke across to reach us) said that an Easy Rider Driver had died here a few years before. Dumbstruck with horror Lizzie tentatively asked how. Mr Phuc went on to explain, laughing as he did so, that the guide had gotten cramp and the tourists that were with him didn't understand what was going on until it was too late. We tried to express our condolences but Mr. Phuc just seemed to find it funny. We couldn't begrudge him though- maybe he thought his friend was now happier as a pig?
After "gracefully clambering" as Lizzie put it, back up the path to the bikes we carried on with our journey.
We stopped at a few more villages and several spots where the effects of Agent Orange were most prevalent.
Mr. Thien explained how the Americans had sprayed the chemical to kill off all the plants and crops of their enemy. What we didn't realise was that more than thirty years later the land would still be effected by it. It looked like patches of the hillsides were bald where things still couldn't be cultivated. More importantly it means that the small villages surrounding it are even poorer than the ones we had previously seen because they can't grow food to feed their families. I was just happy that the Vietnam War was one that Britain had decided to stay out of.
That evening, we were glad to be staying in a little hotel that both guides proudly told us had 2 stars. We were surprised by the level of luxury it gave us; it had a TV, a bath (granted no plug but I still sat in it) and air conditioning. We felt very taken care of. We all once again ate together at a restaurant and Mr Phuc made good company where as Mr. Thien went and sat at a different table once he'd finished.
We quite happily passed out in our huge beds and were a little sad at the prospect of spending our last day with Mr. Phuc and wondering if I could casually push Mr. Thien off the bike. Not so he seriously hurt himself just a scratch or two maybe.
On our final day we had a lot of ground to cover to get to Nha Trang and so a majority of the day was spent on the bike. We still managed to stop at a small basket market, a rubber tree forest, a cocoa plantation, a pepper plantation and a brick factory. These may not sound the most exciting things but we had never seen cocoa pods growing or peppercorns on a tree or even see people make bricks and so it was interesting if anything just to see a little more of the country and the work people do.
Even with these stops we still spent a lot of time on the bike and after a while my bum lost all feeling. Mr Thien seemed even less happy when I tried to shift my weight, as I had done before, and managed to make the bike almost veer off the road. Our relationship was never going to recover after that.
By mid-afternoon we arrived in the beautiful seaside resort of Nha Trang and were sad to say goodbye. Despite Mr. Thien's continual rudeness we had really enjoyed ourselves and definitely seen more of the country we could have ever of otherwise hoped for.
Lizzie wrote a stellar review for Phuc in his comment book. I was more reserved with my opinion. Mr. Thien reminded me three times to write a review for him online. He even said that he would be going on the next day to check and "Hoped he would see my review on there". I have yet to compose exactly the right phrasing for such a review all I know is that it will contain the words "bad-mannered" and "arse".
Week 10: Round Up
Unsurprisingly I am once again behind on the blogging front so I will have to give you a brief surmise of where we have been since we arrived in Vietnam. I think the picture above just about makes up for it but please keep reading to understand how we got to that point.
We first went to the Island of Phu Quoc which is at the very southern tip of Vietnam. It was a beautiful place to spend time on the beach and we even did some squid fishing. The only thing was that because it was the low season it was really quiet. Almost eerily so.
After a few days there we headed up to the madness that is Ho Chi Minh City. Althought we have heard a few people complaining about the fast paced style of the city we really enjoyed it. It was a beautiful place to wander around, visit markets, museums and the nightlife was pretty good too.
It was here in old Saigon that we agreed to play a little game called the "Ten Dollar Challenge". Basically, each person is given ten dollars and had to buy an outift for the other person. We gave ourselves forty-five minutes in the biggest market in the city to the find the most ridiculous outfit for the other. Hence the above picture. I am wearing an England football shirt and a B-Boy cap to look like an English yob whereas I chose a more lady of the night look for Lizzie who wore a silk dressing gown, a bamboo explorers hat and, although you can't see it in the photo, a tie with the Australian flag on. Lizzie then chose to spend most of the night with the tie round her head.
Yes my friends we actually went out in public like this. With the aid of much rum we even enjoyed ourselves and were told by one boy in a club we went to (rather oddly called "Apocalypse Now") that our hats had collectively made his night.
After our successes in Saigon we headed to Mui Ne which is again on the coast. This was a lovely little beach town that was nicely chilled out and spent more time lying in the sun. Well I lay under an umbrella; two months on and I've barely changed colour.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)