20th – 22nd Feb Hanoi

Back in Hanoi I heat up in the hotel before going out to an Irish bar to meet up with some of the guys from the boat and have a charming night talking rubbish - what I’m best at.
The rest of my time in Hanoi was spent wandering the streets looking at the old buildings and finding some lovely places. The oldest temple in Hanoi is charming, really small and unfussy – much nicer than the big golden temples. On a side street the Merchants House is a re-enactment of how people once lived here with amazing wood and mother of pearl inlay furniture, lots of fountains and greenery everywhere. The seating didn’t look to comfortable though. At last I’ve found the restaurant area – there are lots of little places to eat here – must come back for dinner.

The exterior of the History Museum is a strange mix of French and Asian architecture the interior has fantastic exhibits of early history of Vietnam. The pottery, brass drums and carvings are amazing, Vietnam must have looked incredible once. My favourite museum was the Vietnamese Revolutionary Museum housed in a magnificent French chateaux, the irony not lost on me. The museum was filled with information and memorabilia from the fight for freedom with the French and the Americans. There was a copy of the Morning Star from the morning of American withdrawal in 1975, marches were held all over the UK with a picture of Tony Benn smiling. The exhibit caption said papers from all over the world – don’t remember the Morning star being particularly well sold.

I watched a Puppet Show which was surprisingly good and very funny, with traditional Vietnamese stories. The puppets are really well made and the stage a giant watery pool which hides the poles the puppets are moved around on, a nice way to spend an hour.

Thirsty I found a trendy bar and had a beer. The heating was supplied by small terracotta pots filled with burning charcoal – one of the barmen saw my frozen state and moved one of them to my feet – joy, freezing cold beer and really warm fire.

I ate in the Tamarind Café which was lovely and inviting with large enveloping sofas, you felt you could sit reading all day unfortunately the food wasn’t o great but you can’t have everything.

Tired I went back to the hotel to be taken to the train station for my overnight ride down south on the Re-unification Express. At one time North and South Vietnam were separate countries. The hotel had supposedly organised a taxi but on arrival I found they actually meant to take me and my luggage on a motorbike – I refused - much to their annoyance – although it was nothing compared to mine.

I made it to the station and found the train, my cabin and my bed for the night and settled down for the long journey.

19th- 20th Feb – Halong Bay

I’m escaping the cold and heading off to the coast where I’ve been told it’s warmer and the scenery is beautiful so I expect turquoise waters, lush green mountains and sunshine – just like the brochures. There are a dozen people on the tour mostly from Ireland so should be a bit of a laugh. The weather doesn’t get any better as we head towards the coast, my choice of clothing seems inappropriate – the bikinki certainly won’t see an outing.

The boat is lovely, a traditional wooden junk with a sail but I doubt it will see the light of day. My room is en-suite and is quite palatial but there is no heating, thankfully there are two big blankets on the bed which will make a nice dress!

Lunch was a riot with the veggies being marched to a separate table, couldn’t possibly sit with the meat eaters. The first dish was spring rolls, we were obviously given the veggie ones, only to be told vegetable with pork, jut a little bit of pork. Well that’s OK then. Next dish for the veggie table – fish, don’t think they quite understand the concept of vegetarianism. Next dish beef – for Gods sake. We are all so hungry waiting for something to eat we put the rice and peanuts into our sad little dishes, cover it in soy sauce and pretend to be eating a Vietnamese feast. After almost everybody has finished their food, we are given noodles with veg and no sign of meat – halleluiah.

The boat motored out into the bay, slowly, I could have swam faster – although I may have froze to death. I could imagine the area bathed in sunlight the sea turquoise, the pointy lime stone stacks gleaming with bright green vegetation. What I was actually seeing was grey sea, grey stacks and grey vegetation. We stopped at a cave which was huge but over touristy with many coloured lights highlighting the various stalactite and stalagmite shapes trying to get us to believe they are Buddist Gods – stretching the imagination a bit too far there.

A few incumbents of the boat, braved the water and took to kayaks – I stayed in the cold of the unheated boat wrapped in both my blankets.

Dinner was a laugh we were brought a dish of veg with what looked like prawns – we declined only to be told they were not prawns they were vegetables. I’ve never seen a white veg in the shape of a prawn down to the pink vein down the prawns back. After much arguing with the guide I shouted at him to take it away which he did. The meat eating table took the pseudo prawns and couldn’t decide what they were.

After dinner with a nice bottle of Vietnamese wine (yes they make it here) the guide came in with a plastic bag – the packaging from the prawns. The ingredients soya and flavourings – ok – I felt bad but why didn’t he bring the packaging an hour ago and stop all the arguments – not my fault!

The next day was spent motoring back to the docks and driving back to Hanoi – at least the hotel will have heating.

17-18th Feb Hanoi

Got up at an ungodly hour to go to the airport as my flight is at 8am and I’ve been told I have to be there at 6ish. When the taxi nears the airport it’s almost all in darkness with few people around. I enter, there are few people around and when I check the board my flight has been changed to 10am but by the unhappy faces on the people sitting around looks like nobody knew about this in advance. It’s 06:07am I have nearly 4 hours till my flight – aargh!

At 8am the desk opens and I can get rid of my bag, finally at 10:30 the plane takes off and Vietnam here I come.

Hanoi airport is 35km from the city but the hotel I’m staying at have arranged a taxi who is none too happy at the 2 ½ hour late flight. He grabs my bag and marches off to the car park. His driving is even more erratic than the rest of the mad traffic, he beeps and flashes lights at every car in front of him to pull over and let him past. I put on my seat belt and hang on. The motorway ends miles from the city and we wind our way through the outskirts of Hanoi. The housing is really strange, firstly much better quality than I expected but the real interesting bit is everything is really narrow and at least 4 storeys high, plus brightly painted, making for quite a kaleidoscope of shape and colour.

The hotel is fine and I’m starving so head straight out for lunch expecting to find hundreds of little cafes selling lovely Vietnamese food but am thwarted – can’t find anything.

Hanoi is an assault on the hearing it’s so busy and noisy, if I thought the taxi driver was mad he has nothing on the thousands of motorbike drivers careering around. It seems to me that there’s a mad choreographed dance with bike, car, truck and cyclo all weaving in and out of one another, my only problem is that I’ve not been given the dance steps and have to cross the road. The guide book basically tells you to put your life in the hands of the gods and just walk across the road, slowly, and all the traffic will weave around you. Well that’s the theory and I have to try, I step out thinking I’m sure to die and somehow reach the other side and although my nerves are shot I am alive.

On the 18th I do a days site seeing. The walk along to the Presidential Palace is lovely through wide tree lined avenues. I was a nice walk in the cool breeze, Northern Vietnam is surprisingly cool, even cold I’m not sure I like this I’ve gotten used to heat. The actual Palace is a French masterpiece great place for a communist government. Further on is the Ho Chi Minh Mausoleum a massive grey granite building. Unfortunately it’s closed today so I can’t go and see Uncle Ho’s mummified body – what a shame. It does seem a bit strange to me to go and see any mummified body but to go and see ‘The Beloveds’ body who did put in his will that he wanted to be cremated is a bit insensitive. Everybody says it looks like a wax work dummy so maybe I’m missing nothing.

The Temple of Literature was founded by Confucius a couple of thousand years ago as a university. Education was extremely important to Confucius and the state, an some of his teaching which were beautifully written on the walls regarding personal responsibility and the state seemed surprisingly similar to Marxism. The buildings have been extensively restored due to extensive destruction from American bombs. The old buildings are beautiful pagoda like structures with charming sloping roofs and serene pools filled with pink lotus flowers.

The small lake in the middle of Hanoi is a pleasant retreat where old men play majong and people stroll through the park. At one end there’s a enchanting Chinese bridge crossing to a small Temple filled with images of Budda and old men getting agitated over their next move in majong – I’ve no idea what’s going on in the game but it’s fab watching them banging their pieces on the board and psyching one another out.

I was hoping to find some really good Vietnamese food but after two days I’ve found nothing and am pretty unhappy – I know there must be lots of great places around but I just can’t find them – boo hoo – If I wasn’t such a greedy cow I’d almost starve.

12 – 17th Feb – Vientiane

I left the comfort of my room after a delightful nights sleep and ate a non-egg breakfast in a wee café across the road. My mission for the day was to get my bearings and to find a bank to get some money. Sounds simple enough but nothing ever is. It’s Saturday and the banks are closed and the exchange I found doesn’t take Visa but they did tell me of a place which did, so off I went in search of the bank. I got a Tuktuk and parted with the few Kip I had only to arrive at the bank and it be closed. I walked back to the hotel in the afternoon heat none to happy. I found my last few US Dollars and exchanged them for enough to get me dinner and something to eat the next day.

Dejected and depressed I ate Thai yellow curry and retired to my only solace my lovely room and some TV (with a beer obviously – there’s always money for beer).

Next day, feeling better, I forced myself out of the comfort of my room to see some of the nearby sites. The old black Stuppa was beside the US Embassy with flags flying, still no apology for bombing the hell out of the place but did have a sign at the door for prospective Visa applicants saying ‘Visa wouldn’t be granted to cheats and liars’ nice to set out your position early on so no one can be under any illusions about getting into the mighty US.

I visit the National History Museum and its pretty good, with lots of explanations in English; however it doesn’t go into too much detail about the Vietnam War and the bombing by the Americans – strange.

I wander down to the river where the majority of touristy bars, cafes and guesthouses are. In a large open air hall an aerobics class is in full swing with mostly locals dancing. It was hardly full on aerobics more like jumping up and down on the spot, which draws quite a crowd – can’t be much to do in the way of entertainment around here.

Next day I avoid the rip of merchant of a tuktuk driver encamped outside my hotel and walk to today’s sites. Patuxai, Laos’s L’Arc de Triomphe (well they were ruled by France before the Americans bombed the hell out of them) is situated in the middle of a main road in a small park. You can walk up to the top which is just a tourist trap, as inside there are lots of stalls selling local tat – refrained from buying anything for once.

From the top you can see out over the capital city. It’s very low lying, no sky scrappers or high rises in view and greenery everywhere – it’s difficult to imagine your in a large city, Vientiane has a really nice feeling about it, slowed down South East Asia, nobody frantically careering around. The PDR in Laos PDR doesn’t stand for Peoples Democratic Republic it actually stands for Please Don’t Rush.

Keeping in with the local ethos I saunter, nay meander up to the huge Golden Stuppa. It’s now really hot and I’m knackered even with my slow pace, being in the middle of the country Vientiane doesn’t get the cooling breeze from either the mountains or the sea. The Golden Stuppa is Laos’s national symbol, on all the currency, and in keeping with it’s name is a large golden tower with a golden roofed wall all around. In the small hallway, created by the roofed wall, are thousands of six inch Budda’s, and in the corners massive seated Budda’s.

It was really calm and sedate and I sat for a long time chilling, taking in the goldenness trying not to think of the walk back. I capitulated and went by tuktuk the rushing air a blessing. I was taken to a very old Temple Wat Si Saket, one of the oldest in Vientiane. Some of the buildings had been renovated but the un-restored, dilapidated ones caught my eye and seemed much more interesting with their faded beauty and decaying sculptures. The entrance to one has old dragons, in need of a bit of TLC, which I approached, but wary it was still alive and breathing fire left them in peace.

A few cats wandered the grounds finding shade beside plant pots and elephant statues – they were really cute but I didn’t steal one. The Wat was really great because it’s more of a museum with lots of descriptions of the buildings and paintings – at last I know what’s going on.

I wander down the street past the government buildings which were obviously built by either the French or the Russians (under Laos’ communist phase) with large Chateaux’s and grey concrete blocks – you decide which was built by whom! I continue my walk and find a bar and have a cold beer, what joy, finally finishing at the hotel for a cool down.

Going out for dinner I had forgotten it’s Valentines day and all the restaurants are filled with hearts, flowers and pink – hell on earth. I wander looking for a love free haven. It’s really strange watching the locals with red roses in hand this is a pseudo Christian festival, taken over by mass marketing and commercialism yet is massive here in this Buddist, communist country – work that one out. While sitting eating, yet again Thai curry, I see a young beautiful local girl struggling to get on her motorbike with her Valentines Roses which she held so carefully – it is actually quite cute maybe I do have a romantic bone in my body though very well hidden.

Next day I get a local bus with people, boxes and chickens out to Budda Park. This is a modern park full of sculptures from a crazy guy. Well he must have been crazy to create some of these creations. At the entrance is a massive building in the shape of a giant pumpkin, inside has what can only be described as Dantes vision of hell which you peer at through holes in the wall. There are lots of other Buddas in the park from a 40 foot reclining giant to small beautifully carved ones. My favourite was the strange sculpture with a crocodile chomping on what looked likes a tourist!

My journey back home was eventful,l as a Buddist nun sat beside me and at times on top of me trying to avoid men who were getting on and off the bus – I know they aren’t allowed to touch men but this really took it to extremes as though an accidental brush with a blokes hand will send her hell wards for ever, maybe she’s right and all us women should take note, I did wonder what she would have thought if I had told her I was a tranny!

Last day taking PDR to it’s extreme was spent organising things before my move to Vietnam.

9th + 10th Feb – Phonsavan

Arriving at the bus station on the outskirts of town a tyre of the bus was being changed, reminiscent of South America. I tried not to look at the tread or think about it, at least it wasn’t being done at the side of the road after a blow out – positive thinking.
Strange bus layout with tiny seats enabling 3 on one side and 2 on the other. I found a 3 seater empty and scowled at anybody that came near – it worked and I had 3 seats, very small seats, to myself.
I settled down to read my book occasionally looking up to check out the Loas countryside. Laos is really poor the majority of the houses along the road are wooden or bamboo shacks with thatch roofs and small, very small. The countryside however is beautiful. The bus wound its way around the mountainside with steep drops – glad now they had changed the tyre.
On arrival in Phonsavan the countryside and housing changed dramatically. Gone was the rich lush jungle and forest, in its place dryer arid landscape. The housing was weird no shacks here instead massive mansions with 3 storeys and lots of large balconies.
Jamie an English bloke I met in Luang Prabang came with me to one of the guest houses which was under-decorated but decent.
I went for a wander around town which took all of two minutes this really is a dusty nothing town with very little on offer. I had dinner with Jamie in on of 3 restaurants – more noodles with vegetables – great!
Laos is the most bombed country in history, the US, even though they were not at war with Loas and until recently denied ever bombing the country, actually dropped more bombs on Laos, during the Vietnam war, than they dropped in the whole of WW1. Around town there are masses of bits of bombs made into tables, chairs, posts and just general touristy stuff. Unfortunately there are still thousands of unexploded bombs in the countryside which has caused lots of missing limbs and deaths. There is an office for the Mines Advisory Group in Phonsavan who are trying to clear the mines from the area which is some job. The Americans recently have given MAG the bomb paths from the war. They have put together a map with a red dot for each bomb dropped and basically the whole area is a thick block of red.

The next day we get on the tour to the Plains of Jar our only reason for being in this hick town. Not too much is really known about The Plains of Jar – but they think these massive funeral Jars were created between 500BC to 50-800AD but by whom and for what purpose they don’t really know. At the first site there are over 250 jars some up to 2 meters across to 2.5 meters high. They are totally not what I expect – like massive hollowed out boulders just lying around the plain – or a field. There are lids also lying around that have been carved to fit tight on the jars. Unfortunately the contents of the Jars is long gone but was thought to be the bones of the dead before cremation. The ancient Vietnamese of this and other areas interned the dead for a few years then dug them up and cremated them – wouldn’t like that job much. Few bones have been found in and around the sites consistent with the theory, however many of the Jars are smashed or over turned and their contents long ago looted so maybe nobody will ever know.
At site 1 we saw a few bomb craters some of the craters were marked ‘US Bomb crater 1960 – 1970’ we felt it really should have said ‘Welcome from Private Smith Idaho’.

The other two sites we visited were much the same and the guide was less than useless telling us to read Lonely Planet but he did take us to a fantastic waterfall where Mark an Ozzie fell in. I saw him fall over the edge and was terrified for 3 seconds until he popped his head back up – lost his shoe but fortunately didn’t lose his camera. It was really comical watching 3 other guys run to help him and rescue him from falling in again – we tried not to laugh – but failed.

That night back in town I had dinner with a bunch of other tourists from all round the globe, we had one conversation – The US – and the view was not too good well they did re-elect Bush.

The next day I had a long wait for my flight to Vientaine and found there really is nothing at all to do in Phonsavan. I went to the bank to pass some time but they wouldn’t exchange money from Visa so I only managed to change a few US dollars. In the bank at the counter where I got my money there were a couple of staff counting money by hand - thousands of money, which was just lying around the floor like monopoly money. Even better a child, I supposed of one of the staff was playing with a pile of it what a way to spend you youth.

Eventually it was time to go to the airport and get my flight which was a bit worrying as Laos Airlines has one of the worst safety records in the world – I tried not to think of this as I boarded the plane and certainly didn’t look at the tyres!

The flight all 30 minutes of it was fine and I disembarked at Vientaine in one piece. I didn’t have a hotel booked and thought there would be some hotel counter at the airport – wrong – I picked a hotel out of the Lonely Planet and took a taxi there. IIt couldn’t have worked out better as the hotel was lovely and the en-suite, air-consitioned room was lovely. It even had cable TV with a couple of English movie channels – heaven, pure heaven.