Vientiane: final destination.

Vientiane is laid-back, peaceful, culinary, inexpensive and one of the quietest capital cities so far.

Phra Thatluang.

Can you believe it? I can’t. Vientiane is the final stop before my trip comes to a close. It’s been a wonderful 8 and a bit months. I have had some great experiences in some wonderful places. Travelling the world this year is the best decision I could have made and I am so grateful I got to do it.  It’s a very relaxed capital with a few sights to see, some pampering and tasty food. It is not my favourite place in Laos, but it is a good place to spend a few days. I didn’t feel like I had to rush to do anything here.

The story of the Buddha at Phra Thatluang.

There are more lovely temples to see in Vientiane. It’s hard to believe that I am not sick of them yet, especially how quickly I fatigued on churches in Europe. Often, the beautiful art in temples is quite different from one place to the next. That was the case at the Vat Sisket temple. The temple has thousands of Buddhas that range from being mere millimetres tall, to large statues that are bigger than me. They even showcase images that had been looted and vandalised. There is a small space with hundreds of head-less Buddhas. They were quite a sight. Across town at Phra Thatluang, there is an amazing golden stupa, a giant reclining Buddha (although I have seen bigger, wink wink) and a temple with the story of the Buddha painted in amazing vivid colour on the roof. We explored these areas with very few people around; just some monks working and cleaning.

Vat Siskatek.

I also went to visit two very different museums. One, a national museum charted the history of the country of Laos. Being a communist country, the place is home to some serious pro-communism propaganda. But it charts the country’s history from pre-history until now. There’s Another museum, which is much more focused.  The ‘COPE’ centre is a place where local victims of UXOs (unexploded ordinances) can go for help in funding prosthetic limbs. In the 1950s and 60s the United States undertook an intense bombing campaign of Laos. Even today it stands as the most bombs dropped on any country per capita in the world. The bombs that were dropped contained smaller bombs called ‘bombies’. Many of these are still unexploded in the earth of Laos and many people accidentally detonate them, losing limbs or their lives in the process. The story is sad, but it is one with hope for a better future. Of course, when I watched the films about the little boy who lost his life accidentally picking up a bombie, saw the story about the man who lost his sight after unknowingly lighting a fire right over one, and read about the woman who lost her legs collecting scrap metal to survive, I was deeply affected. Like in many museums before it, I cried.  However the museum itself is a surprisingly sunny place. Here, they focus on the resilience of the people and the work that organisations do to clear the areas too and that is the story they want you to walk away with.

COPE.

I also took the chance to indulge while I was here with some of the remainder of my budget. I ate amazing food like laab, traditional Laotian mice and vegetables and even French food (which is popular here after Laos colonial past). I drank too many happy hour cocktails. I wandered around markets on the Mekong and people watched. But my favourite piece of indulgence was a 3 hour beauty session I did at a local spa. I got a steam, scrub, mud wrap, facial, massage and milk bath for about a quarter of what I would pay in Australia. It was great, except that the woman who did the session with me giggled a lot and considering how nude I was, that was a bit off-putting.

So as the sun sets on my time in Asia, my trip and the year I am reflecting on what I’ve seen and experienced. I’ve updated my ‘about me‘ to reflect this. Thanks for sharing my trip with me.

Vang Vieng: Backpackers’ paradise.

Vang Vieng is dirty, sleazy, fun, cheap and full of youngsters in elephant pants.

From the cave.

 

The jagged mountains, rushing river, vast caves, turquoise lagoons, the buzzing night-life, the opportunity to drown while getting totally wasted: Vang Vieng is a hedonist’s paradise. ‘Do what you want, when you want’ seems to be the motto for this town that is overflowing with young backpacker types, armed with dreadlocks, elephant pants and arms full of bracelets. I enjoyed the beautiful scenery here. I loved tubing but I couldn’t help thinking as I saw the backpackers go about their business, “Am I a bit too old for this?”.

The Nong Sam

As I mentioned, this place is beautiful to look at. Sitting in one of the riverside eateries and enjoying the view was awesome and cruising down the river next to the mountains on a tube (which I’ll tell you more about later) was super fun. The scenery was really special, but what I like about Vang Vieng is how weird it is. A huge number of the bars play ‘Friends’ episodes all day and night, there is an Australian bar, Pizzerias offer ‘Happy Pizza’ and there is push to give the tourists what they want. But at what cost? I didn’t learn about the Lao here, I learned about ‘the backpacker’. It remind me of a wannabe Kho San road. One thing I am told over and over in my life and I realise more as I get older is that being respectful is very important to me. I really struggle with people who take photos when they are told they shouldn’t, don’t respect local customs, touch things they shouldn’t and treat the world like they are the most important thing in it. On this trip I have seen some horrible behaviour that goes beyond just being ignorant. In this part of the world, dressing properly or respectfully is very important to the local people. There are signs everywhere asking people not to walk around in their bathers, yet I saw so many girls walking through town in itsy-bitsy-teeny-weenie bikinis and guys flexing up a storm without shirts on. They didn’t offend me personally, but the fact that they ignored the requests of the locals does offend me. Very much.

The Blue Lagoon.

Just outside of town there is a ‘Golden Gate bridge’, which wobbles like crazy when anyone walks on it. Walk up a hundred steps and there is a cave called Tham Chang to explore and enjoy some amazing views from. Not far from there people take a dip in the turquoise waters of the blue lagoon. But the main attraction here is the very infamous, but awesomely fun ‘tubing’. I know a couple of people who have been, but the overarching narrative of the famous Vang Vieng past time of ‘tubing’ is that it is very dangerous and people die in the waters of the Nong Sam river. The water is a dangerous place, the river is unpredictable, but after cruising down the thing in a rubber tube of my own, I think the main issue is the booze and drugs. We set off from the tube shop where we signed our lives away and were given a number on permanent marker on our hands. “That’s so they can identify the body”, one of my travel buddies quipped, I laughed, but secretly I was quite nervous. We took a tuk tuk to the top of the river and were left to our own devices. It would take about 2 hours to float to the end. I only had one hairy moment. The rocks are jagged and make the water quite shallow in parts. One hit the nozzle on my tube and flipped me forward. The initial shock frightened me the most, but once i got to my tube and got my bearings it was smooth sailing from there. As we floated down the river I found it lovely and relaxing; others came to party. Many of the riverside bars have been shut down given the fatalities, but a few are still open. The music is pumping, people are drinking themselves stupid and partying in bikinis. It’s how I imagine spring break to be. Or at least how spring break is portrayed in film. I saw one girl who was actually passed out on her tube floating far from anyone she knew. We cruised down the river, having a laugh, a chat and looking out for rocks (and each other), so it was pretty safe.

Tubing. Pic via The Chad.

I had a good time in Vang Vieng, I just didn’t compromise my safety or my cultural sensitivity to do it. Please forgive this old fuddy-duddy post; I am 30 now, so maybe it’s a sign I am more set in my ways and that I like complaining about young ruffians.

Luang Prabang: A tale of two cities.

Luang Prabang is quiet, colonial, contrasting, peaceful and UNESCO heritage listed.

Misty morning.

The next stop is the gorgeous old city of Luang Prabang. Final stop on the slow boat trip and a relaxed and easy going place with a fun-filled atmosphere. Here there is a beautiful city that is heavily influenced by the French colonial style sitting side by side with many classic Asian elements. It is a mash-up of styles, but nothing seems out of place, the two coexist beautifully.

The old town.

I’m learning more about the people of Laos as I move through their country. They are more reserved than their neighbours, but they are still friendly. They are building up their tourism industry, but there is not the scams and harassment that often follow the tourist trade. The people are proud and fly their flags about their houses and shops. Here I can browse through the market with nothing but a ‘sabaidee’ (hello) from the owner. It is relaxing here; there is no traffic, at least not to the level there is in other cities I have been to on this journey. There is a nice slow pace that is easy to get caught up in. A couple of times I took a moment just to enjoy the fact that there was no noise.

The Mekong.

My favourite activity in Luang Prabang actually happened about 30ks out of the town centre. The adventure to Kung Si Falls was a difficult hike over some rough terrain. It was a challenge that was well worth it. The falls are simply stunning. We began about 3 hours from the falls in a little village. We stopped at a local’s house for a tour and saw their collection of puppies, chickens and even a small monkey tied to the house by a piece of string. A local guided us through the start of the track which included farm land, water buffalo grazing and an array of colourful flowers. From there we reached the source of the falls and the top of the falls, where a number of makeshift wooden planks have been placed for you to walk over the top of the falls. You walk partly on the logs, partly on the water. The view is impressive but you have to get pretty close to the edge, which a few people weren’t keen on. After that came the hard part, a steep climb down the side of the falls over rocks and mud. I slipped and slid all over the place, but luckily I kept my feet. When I got to the bottom I was dirty, hot and bothered. Luckily, by that time I was at the falls. The aqua-coloured water spills over several rocky faces, the sun shines through above the falls highlighting the mist and the thing is tall, 3 tiers and 60 meters high. I sat and looked at it for a while. It was a special place and well worth the trip.

Sunshine, mist and the falls.

After the hike I cooled off by swimming in the smaller falls below Kuang Si. The water was freezing and the fish liked biting my toes, so I got out and started to leave. On the grounds of the park where the waterfalls are there is a small bear rescue centre. They have Moon Bears on display that have been saved from Chinese medicine which believes that the bear’s bile is a cure-all. I haven’t seen a lot of wildlife in Laos so knowing that there are charities out there helping with conservation is a great thing. Often the people here do not have the resources to feed themselves, let alone sustain a conservation program, so it’s pretty great that people like these bear rescuers can have an impact.

Rescued Moon Bears.

There are plenty of sights to see in the town. The Mekong flows through and we sat and had breakfast on the water’s edge one morning. There are plenty of temples around town the keep you occupied. Even after 3 weeks here I am not yet sick of temples. The stand out was the Wat Xieng Thong. Mosaics, gold leaf and sweeping roof tops all create a different look. I watched a man who was repairing gold leaf working hard under the hot afternoon sun. The task was quite laborious as he could only open one 2 cm by 2cm packet of gold leaf at a time. There is also a really lovely French bakery over the road. But that is not the only French influence in town, the colonial-style buildings are one of the reasons UNESCO has placed the whole town on the world heritage list. The houses have high ceilings, timber shutters and a lovely colonial charm. This influence can be seen at the royal palace, which now houses a collection of art, furniture and gifts that used to belong to the king. The interior of the house had both Asian and European influences, but was not as grand as I after palace hopping across the world. There is also a look out at a Stupa called Phu Si in the middle of town. From here you can see across the whole city. I went up in the morning when it was quite foggy which created an eerie view.

Haw Kham.

After dark, Luang Prabang comes alive with lots of colour and atmosphere. The massive night market goes on for several kilometres and is filled with souvenirs, beautiful textiles, clothes and a vast array of elephant pants. There are also a number of bars that cater for the ‘falang’ (foreigner), we went to a couple, one was a set in a jungle, with large overhanging trees and 2 for 1 cocktails. The other, called Utopia, was like stepping back into Melbourne. There was not a local to speak of, but soft cushions on the floor to sit on, a volleyball court outside and a foosball table that I dominated. The drinks were cheap and the youngsters had passed out on the floor. In Australia these people wouldn’t be allowed in the club for long, as soon as security spotted them, they would be out. However, in Asia, the land that OH&S forgot, the bar staff just stepped over them to grab glasses.

Night markets.

Laos is proving to be the chilled out member of the Indochina family. Luang Prabang is no exception. Despite being one of the major tourist draw-cards of the country, there is no push and shove, no rush, only ‘Laos time’, which is one pace only: slow.

The Mekong: cruising on a slow boat.

One of the ways to cross Laos is on a ‘slow boat’ cruising down the Mekong. This was one of the most relaxing transits I have done. Rolling down the river with the beautiful scenery was gorgeous. Like I have said before, in Asia, the journeys are half the fun.

Cruisin’.

We jumped on the boat after crossing the border into Houay Xai. The border crossing was easy enough. An air-conditioned bus from Chang Mai to Chiang Rai, a public bus from Chiang Rai to the border, a tuk tuk to border control, from the Thai side to the Laos side and then a tuk tuk into town. Actually, now that I write it down it seems much more complex than that.  As I mentioned in my last entry, in Asia, it is about both the journey and the destination. Riding on the public bus was fun. it was not air conditioned, but the back door was left open for the breeze. which led to a lot of hilarious movement from my hair. Once in the town there was only time for dinner, some local honey whisky and bed. On night two we stopped in the town of Pak Beng overnight for a similar evening, although we were able to watch the sunset over the Mekong from the Wat on the hill while listening to the chants of the novice monks. A perfect Laos moment.

Sunset over The Mekong.

The boat was long and filled with old car seats, we were warned to balance out the boat and not move around too much as we could tip the whole thing over. The Captain was a young man in his early 20s but the real show-stopper was his wife. 7 months pregnant and still steering the boat into it’s moorings, cooking us amazing lunches all while being utterly beautiful. Her cooking was actually amazing. We got delicious stir-fries, curries, noodles, chicken wings, spring rolls, soups and grilled fish over two lunches. These were pretty close to being some of the best food I have had while I have been away.

Our trusty vessel.

The Mekong itself is wide and rapid. Small villages dot the lush jungle-covered mountains that soar on its banks. An occasional golden stupa will pop out from the greenery too. But the best part is how peaceful it all is. People cruise past on their boats every now and again, but no-one is in too much of a hurry. We were able to stop in on two of those villages on our way down the river. On both days we arrived to give the community members gifts of things they had requested from our tour company. I’m all for giving back, but people were hiding things you had already given them so they could get more and a woman who helped me down a sand dune to get back to the boat demanded money for helping me. I know I do not understand the poverty they face every day and this behaviour makes perfect sense; but it disappointed me and also made me feel a whole new level of guilt of being, as a man in my tour so aptly put it “A big colonial bastard”. At day one’s village the people were tentative about us. The kids stared in horror and it was only a game of throwing a ball around that loosened them up. On day two we went to a Hmong village. This ethnic group has suffered a lot of persecution and some Hmong even live a life on the run after the Vietnam (or American, or secret war). I think the Hmong were more used to visitors, as they said thank you and had a few local girls ready with handicrafts to sell to us. At the Hmong village we brought some school supplies and hygiene products for the children, then we taught the kids some classic western dances  (including the Chicken Dance and Macarena) and played a crazy free-for-all soccer game with them. It was actually fantastic. They have such a fun energy.

School kids in the Hmong village.

We also visited the Pak Ou caves which are limestone caves that sit on the edge of the Mekong. Here, local people have donated thousands of Buddha images that sit inside the two tiered cave. On the bottom level there are about 4000 Buddhas. You can light incense and sit quietly with the images in a very serene environment. After a climb up some very steep, high and slippery stairs, you hit a dark cave where you use a torch to see 3000 more. This was a nice detour, but not the most exciting
cave I’ve ever been to.

Some of the thousands.

After arriving in Laung Prabang, the final destination (and my next entry), I was actually quite sad to leave my car seat and say goodbye to the captain and his lovely wife. The boat was one of the best ways I could have imagined to see the untouched jungle beauty of Laos.

Day tripping: Chiang Mai.

On the way to Laos we took a short pit-stop in Chiang Mai. I wish I could have spent longer in this almost sleepy little town, especially to explore its outskirts and jungles, but Laos is calling so a proper exploration of the north of Thailand will have to wait for another trip. Leaving Bangkok, we caught the overnight train to Chiang Mai. After my European night train experience, I was expecting something much more basic, however, I was surprised by the space and comfort of the little fold-out beds. Of course, I got a horrible night’s sleep and there was an unfathomable amount of little bugs, but as far as night trains go, it was fine. I think I am learning that half the fun of a South East Asia trip are the overland journeys.

Monks decorating the temple.

Arriving in Chiang Mai you can instantly feel a change of pace. It is quieter, calmer and cheaper than Bangkok. The people don’t seem too fussed by you as you walk through markets and shops and it is so nice. Don’t get me wrong, this is a town for tourists. Western food, bars, massage parlours and tour companies can be found everywhere; but everything is moving so much slower. The relaxing vibe around the place is a welcome change from the feverish pace of Bangkok. I can see why people spend a good amount of time here.

The market.

Many people I met claimed Chiang Mai is a walled city, I think they should say ‘was’. The old town area doesn’t look too different than the newer areas and the wall that once encased the city is only there in small pockets. The highlight of the town are the beautiful Wats the dot the town. Many with amazing carvings made of gold. Golden dragons snake down the stairs, impossibly large Buddhas sit serenely surrounded by even more gold. One temple I particularly enjoyed was Wat Chedi Luang. Despite the fact that it is partly in ruins, the main structure sits high on a hill and is an imposing presence in Chiang Mai’s landscape. There are many old carvings and statues (and even part of the building) that are not on the temple hill any more, but the things that do remain, including stone elephants and dragons are beautiful. Around many of the temples the monks were hard at work cleaning and decorating. At Wat Patow there was several monks decorating trees with lanterns, which looked magical. But it’s not just cleaning and decorating, one of the temples ran a ‘chat with a monk’ program that offered interested member of the public and tourists the chance to sit down and talk to a monk and ask any questions they want to. I thought it was such a novel idea. Communication and understanding are the key to overcoming prejudice and fear and it’s nice to see the monks being on the front foot about their lives.

Wat Chedi Luang.

I didn’t see a lot outside of the city centre because I spent several hours indulging in one of my favourite past times of cooking (and eating, of course). This cooking class was one of the best things I could have done. It was fun and I learned so much. Rather than dealing with chefs like I did in Vietnam, here we had a set of cooks who cared about cuisine and also wanted to have fun. There were jokes a plenty which made for a really relaxed environment with very few mistakes.  There was less pressure than when you are working with a chef, probably because they usually like yelling. We selected the dishes we wished to cook from the following lists: stir fry, appetizer, curry and soup. I chose to make Pad Thai, Spring Rolls, Chiang Mai style noodles and chicken in coconut soup. But don’t worry, I didn’t miss out, they gave us a recipe book with all the recipes and more in it. All of it was quick, easy and delicious. I think I can take a few of the ideas back and wow my friends.

Pretty happy with my spring rolls.

By night, Chiang Mai is not the sleepy place it is in the day. The Night Bazaar is a huge market with all the clothes, trinkets, accessories, jewellery and art you could possibly want. The giant archways that cover the market have lanterns hanging from them and the bars on the outskirts have lovely live music which contributes to the beauty and ease of the place. This was the first market I have been to that I didn’t get hassled by vendors. Usually they just smile or ask if you’re ok and then move on. The pressure is off, I can browse for the first time in weeks and it’s awesome.

Night Market.

There are a lot of stereotypes about Thailand, the most prominent is about men who choose to live as women, so-called ‘lady-boys’. There are large numbers of them in the city and there are plenty of homophobic stories floating around about someone’s mate who was on holiday and misled into thinking that he was with a woman only to find out very late in the piece that she is a he. In Chiang Mai there is a ‘cabaret show’ featuring trans-gender and ‘lady-boy’ performers. We went to find it was a hilarious, tongue in cheek performance with lots of laughs and one of the best Tina Turner impressions I have ever seen. There was lots of dancing, lip-syncing, breast implants and feathers. One was a dead ringer for J-Lo too and was able to jump and dance better in 6 inch-heels than I could walk in ones half the size. I found it interesting because it really challenged ideas I have about what it is to be feminine or masculine, what we are trained to find attractive culturally and above all else our power as people to be whatever we want to be and reinvent ourselves as what we want to be. Maybe that is me thinking too deeply about it, but I think that was the point they were trying to get across too. At one point in the show a performer came out done up in a blue evening dress, blonde wig, make-up and jewels. She mimed ‘My Way’ while removing breast pads, pieces of clothing, make-up and the wig. At the end of the song, the beautiful she was revealed to be a very handsome he. This performance stuck out in my mind, and not just because I was impressed he got more make up off his face than I have ever worn in my life in about 5 seconds. The power in this performance was the tears that ran down his face as he mimed. It was a show stopper.

Chiang Mai Cabaret.

I would love to come back to Chiang Mai and see it properly. There’s certainly a lot to do and all in a much more relaxed environment than Bangkok or the beaches of the south.

Bangkok: I love you, I’m just not in love with you anymore…

Bangkok is raucous, constantly moving, regal, golden and not how I remember it.

Near Siam Square.

Bangkok is the only city on this trip that I have visited before. 2 friends and I came to visit here in 2011. We stayed on the edge of the red light district (which is not as seedy as it sounds), we went shopping, we drank cheap drinks, gorged on street food, got massages, manicures and pedicures and we found ourselves in the middle of the Songkran festival. Songkran is a week long water-fight where strangers are suddenly combatants in a crazy all-out water war. After this trip, I adored Bangkok, I found it to be vibrant, fun and different from any other place I had been to at that time. My second visit, I have to say, is not the Bangkok I remember, I don’t know if it’s because I am staying in a different area,  I have lost my sense of wonder or if the the place is just awesome during a festival. I still like it, I just don’t love it.

The Grand Palace.

I got to spend a couple of days here with my parents, which was fun. For these 3 days I played tour guide and took them to the spots I enjoyed visiting last time. We went to Wat Pho, home of the 50 meter long reclining Buddha and 1000s other statues and images of the deity. We went to Wat Arun, my personal favourite Bangkok temple, where you can climb the towers and admire the detailed art work on the side. We went to the Grand Palace. The very, very golden home of The King of Thailand and his family. The place is filled with throne rooms, and the rather unimpressive Emerald Buddha, which Dad perfectly described: “I thought it would be bigger” he exclaimed. We all did, Dad, we all did.  The Palace is so large and seemingly everything is covered in gold. We hit the stores at Siam square, the paragon and the always crazy MBK, where the haggling and the plethora of knock-offs mean that it’s just a glorified market with a roof.

Wat Pho.

We also made it to places I didn’t get to last time, like The Democracy Monument, the giant swing and the lovely Golden mountain. The Golden Mountain is a temple on top of a hill in the middle of town, not only is it an easy walk through nice gardens to get to the top, the view is beautiful. You can see out over much of Bangkok. From the run down housing around the temple out to the high rises that litter the skyline. I really liked The Golden Mountain. The view was spectacular.

The view from Golden Mountain.

As I mentioned, I am staying in a different part of town than last time. When I was last in Bangkok I quickly realised how much I hate Kho San road. The famous backpacker street is everything that is wrong with tourism. The place is sleazy. A quick walk down the street will see you presented with prices for ping pong shows with Thai men making an impression of the sound you can expect with their mouths; bars where staff wear t-shirts guaranteeing that they won’t check ID; fake ID market stalls; markets, massage, tuk tuk drivers, bars and restaurant spruikers all screaming (quite literally) for your attention. I find the place utterly exhausting. Unfortunately it’s not too different in other parts of the city either. You have to watch out for scams in a lot of places. 3 different people tried to convince us to go see a ‘giant Buddha’ with them and another 2 ‘yogis’ tried to tell my fortune. These are covers from gem scams. We had trouble with taxis too. In the cab on the way to Siam Square I had to be forceful with a driver who was trying to take us to a jewel shop. I told him if he took us of course we wouldn’t pay him. He drove us to our destination without a word, another tried to over-charge us hundreds of baht and refused to budge on the price. I guess that’s the problem, most scammers and, in this case, cabbies, assume your ignorance. When you show you’ve got a bit of nous they back away, or yell at you (as a certain young gem scammer did to me). I find this really disappointing. It makes it really hard to like a place where some people are trying to trick you. I understand bartering and haggling means that people quote high prices (I talked a tuk tuk driver down from 300 baht to 150), but the constant harassment wore thin. By the way, the Yogi said my life would be in “great turmoil and  full of worries this November”. I said, “I don’t think so; I’m on holiday”, he said “Oh yes, next time you are in Bangkok you will return with your lover!”. I said, “I’m back in 2 weeks. My boyfriend is at home”. Then he said “Watch! I’ll tell you the name of your mother!”, I said “I know it already”.

Buddha. (not the giant)

The vibrancy that I enjoy about Bangkok is still there. Some of the streets are filled with lanterns and you can walk down them at night, eat, browse through the markets and not be hassled. The awesome fashions (none of which I can afford or fit in to) are still for sale in the back alleys of Siam Square. You can still get amazing and delicious street food for $1. But it’s cleaner, there’s less people selling goods on the streets, massive shopping malls have replaced markets and the place is slowly undergoing a gentrification. It makes sense. A place as fast-paced as Bangkok was never going to stay the same. It can”t. Nothing stays the same.

Changing Bangkok.

Don’t get me wrong, Bangkok is still an amazing city. The buzz here is great, but that charm that I first found so endearing is not the same. Maybe I’m just disappointed no-one wanted to have a water-fight with me.

Day Tripping: Battambang.

Our final stop in Cambodia is the small city of Battambang, pronounced ‘Bat-um-bong’. I had not heard of the place before my visit, and when I arrived I think it was easy to figure out why. There’s not too much going on. but yet again, the lovely people have made it a nice place to visit for the day.

Sunset over the fields.

I didn’t spend too much time in the city itself. We went and had lunch by the water and saw a few of the colonial buildings that the town is known for. During the afternoon we stopped in at the local market. This was a very different experience than the bright and tourist focussed markets of Ho Chi Minh and Siem Reap. Here, the market is dingy, dark and stiflingly hot. I did find a few things to amuse me, in the women’s clothing section there were a range of underwear with padded bums for shape. In Australian ‘shape-wear’ is for sucking all the fat in. I love all of these opposing ideas about beauty, I find it fascinating. A local man (who I will discuss more about later) said to us “Cambodian women want the pale skin and the long nose” he paused and then looked at me and said “you’ve got it!”. All my life I have hated my long nose and inability to tan. It seems that little did I know I was a Cambodian beauty queen. Even the images on advertisements in Asia seem extra unattainable, especially considering how western most of the women look. The have impossibly big eyes, and pale skin. In fact, most skin creams and sun blocks I have seen for sale have whitening ingredients in them. Back to the market: it sold everything, out of the clothes section was bright sparkly jewellery, fabrics and beauty products. As we moved outside we came to the market’s food section. This was a rather confronting experience. big slabs of red meat sat in the sun, whole chickens (heads included) were strewn on a table and were covered in more flies than I have seen in one location, there was also dried fish, fruit piled up on the ground and one of the worst smells I have encountered in my life. A combination of hot vomit and rotting meat. Many Cambodians live without refrigeration, so a place like this is a reality. However, all the hygiene rules I know so well were seemingly abandoned. Culture shock strikes again!

The market.

The tourist highlight of a trip to Battambang is a ride on its famed bamboo train. Flat bed bamboo carriages sit on top of two wheel axles which fly along a single track rail line powered by a small petrol engine. The train was used to transport people and goods across the province. It was a great invention which helped people get from A to B with relative ease. It is still used for getting goods to market, but tourists can take a ride though the jungle too. We sat on cushions that were mildly comfortable and set of on the clicking and clacking track. I seriously felt every track connection as we sped along. I thought we were going really fast, as the bugs were slapping into my face and the wind was blowing my hair, the driver told us we were going about 40ks and hour, which was not nearly as impressive as it felt. As it is a single track you often come face-to-face with other trains. The lighter one (usually judged by the number of people on board) is quickly disassembled and the passengers hop off to let the other one pass. Then the train is put back together and the journey continues. Very fun. I even saw some fireflies as the sun set.

Going too fast to take a good photo.

But my highlight in Battambang was going to the homes of the people (invited of course). We visited two houses that were called ancient by their owners. One was 87 and the other 93 years old. So not too ancient by my standards, but lovely all the same. We also met a man and his family who offer a traditional Cambodian dinner of eggplant fritters, Amok, Banana flower salad, curry, rice and mangoes at their home just outside the city limits of Battambang. The home dinner was delicious. We ate ourselves into food comas on what was, probably unsurprisingly, the best Cambodian food I have tried. But he was the real highlight, a charming and funny guy, who really believes that it is tourism that will help the Cambodian people escape poverty. He told a story about his previous job as a moto-taxi driver; about 15 years ago he met a Swedish backpacker who asked him if he spoke English and if he could show her around the town. She paid him $6 for his trouble, enough to fill his petrol tank and feed his family. From there he was inspired by what had happened and the possibility of the tourist trade and now he does small tours of the area, cooking classes and dinners in his home. He was an interesting guy. He led discussions in everything from arranged marriages, HIV, ghosts, beauty (which led to his admiration of my ample nose), tourism, family, love, Cambodian customs and a whole manner of things. He was great. At the end of the night he offered me a glass of snake whisky. After trying spider whisky in Phnom Penh I was a little apprehensive, but I can safely say that snake whisky is much nicer than spider. It was very smooth.

Our gracious hosts.

A few highlights in Battambang which had very little to do with the town itself. I enjoyed meeting the people and admiring their ingenuity.

Siem Reap: Temple hopping.

Siem Reap is touristy, loud, busy, lit up and the perfect place to explore Angkor from.

Angkor Wat.

The road to Siem Reap from Phnom Penh is a bumpy one. Not figuratively, quite literally. I bumped, jumped and was thrown from my seat on the unsealed and road. People went by in vans with the boots open to cram more people inside, bikes zoomed and the dust was everywhere. It even made its way into the bus. a thin film of red dust had settled on our seats, our luggage and ourselves. Luckily we had plenty of stops along the way. First we dropped in on a spider market. Not selling spiders as pets, but to eat. I wanted to eat a spider, but I was harassed so badly by a group of 5 little girls selling fruit that I only got to try silk worms. The little ones were amazingly manipulative. The told me buying the fruit would help them go to school, they called me ‘sister Ali’, that they would cry if I didn’t buy from them, called me a liar because apparently I “promised” to buy fruit from them. It was overwhelming. Of course I ended up with bananas (which I don’t eat), an unripe mango and a pomello. The pineapple girl was seething. Next we stopped at a working silk farm where an ex-pat American and his Cambodian wife have worked with the local community to train women, some with disabilities, in the village as silk weavers. They sell beautiful scarves for decent prices and the women are treated well. Projects like this one are so important for locals here and give them skills and work where there might not have been an opportunity before. The woman who showed us around even broke down the wages, sales and profits for us just so we could see that the women weren’t being exploited. Finally, after crossing a bridge built in the 12th century, we jumped on a boat at the Tonle Sap lake to visit the floating village. This is the largest inland lake in South East Asia and is home to thousands of people who live on houses on poles in the water. Most are fisherman. It is a hard life with disease rife as people drink and defecate in the same water. It amazes me that people on the planet don’t have safe to safe drinking water with the resources we have. I take this for granted everyday. We jump in a converted fishing I notice a little boy, no more than 6 jumps on the boat with us. I wonder what he is doing until he starts untying ropes and pushing the boat out on to the lake by leaping from our boat to the ones that are moored beside it. Obviously you’re never too young to earn a living in Cambodia or be a ship’s First Mate. After lots of waving at local children we stop to watch the sunset. It’s beautiful over the water. After the ride back, the First Mate picks up a giant paddle and steers us into our moorings. Amazing. From there it was only an hour or so to Siem Reap.

 

Life on the lake.

Siem Reap is in the middle of the water festival too, so the streets are busy, loud and lit up. Cambodians have come from all over so even the tourist mecca known as ‘pub street’ is filled with tourists and locals alike. We went to a pub with tasty food and karaoke, after blowing the crowd away with my version of karaoke staple “Total Eclipse of the Heart”, we went out to explore. On this street sound systems pumping club anthems compete for your attention, as do tuk tuk drivers and vendors who set up night markets. I find shopping here quite stressful as there is no such thing as browsing. As soon as you’ve made eye-contact you’re sucked into the vortex. I just wish the stall owners didn’t insist on telling me gleefully that they have a ‘big size’ for me. Me being a Cambodian XXXXXL might be a genetic reality, but I’m not keen to be reminded of it constantly. The markets are also interesting because everyone has the same thing. I looked at a dress that was $12, which was then quickly discounted to $7 by the vendor as I walked away, that I found in another store for $5. You just have to be smart, I guess. Or an excellent haggler; which luckily my Mum is. I’m getting better.

The First Mate.

But we weren’t in Siem Reap for the night-life and shopping. People come to the city as a base to explore the temples of Angkor. A temple pass for 3 days costs about $45. Considering there are about 300 temples in the park, that’s not bad. Unfortunately I missed out on 296 of them; but the ones I did see were great. Obviously, Angkor Wat was high on the agenda. We visited twice: once in the afternoon and once for the sunrise. Both were very different experiences. During the day we viewed the beautiful carvings, statues and offerings, got our photos taken with monks (on their cameras and ours), saw a lot of monkeys playing on the temple walls and I even got my fortune told by an old man. He gave me a bracelet and a book that I put over my head and selected a page from, he then read out the page in Cambodian (which was translated for me), my story was about somebody who lost something important finding it again. I wondered what it could be, but the more I think about it the more I realise that I lost myself in a bunch of stuff that doesn’t matter and this year I have found ‘me’ again. Cheesy? Probably, but I’m going with it. As usual there was lots of photos, silliness, being pushed and shoved around and dealing with massive crowds, as there has been at all the attractions I have been to. Angkor Wat in the morning was a different proposition, yes, the crowds were there but everyone was much more relaxed (perhaps from sleep deprivation). We watched the sun come up over the five towers and it was a stunning sight. True beauty. I wish this could have been the first time I saw the place, but it was still very special.

Sunrise over Angkor Wat.

My favourite temple was in Angkor Tom. As we entered in the gates we found ourselves on a bridge filled with faces of good and evil. Some have been restored, but most are crumbling. We spent most of out time with the ‘evil’ faces because they were much more interesting to look at and do awesome impressions of. Bayon Temple was made up of hundreds of faces of Lokesvara. A serene, calm face that stares out of each tower 4 times, one on each side. This temples was weathered, you could climb on it and explore and above all else it was beautiful. I loved it. It was even relatively quiet compared to Angkor Wat, so that was refreshing.

Bayon temple.

We also visited the Jungle Temple of Ta Prom. This is the one used in the Tomb Raider movies. When you see it you can see why Ang made the trek down here. Trees twist and turn and bind themselves to the stones of the temple. they grow out of the oddest places and tower high into the sky. This power play by Mother Nature has meant that much of the temple is in ruins. But it makes for a beautiful contrast. The final temple was Bunteay Srey temple, or Woman Temple. This was much different. A Hindi temple, it is dedicated to different gods and is much smaller. Lots of the middles section is blocked off, but the statues and carvings are in pretty good condition. In fact, the carvings are really beautiful. Unfortunately, the same can’t be said for the outer walls. As was the case with many of the temples here, there is a lot of damage due to theft. Countries like Japan are donating money and working with Cambodians for the restoration of many of the sites, but much of the damage was done during the time of the Khmer Rouge and the parts have long since vanished.

So many tomb raiders.

When people have told me about how much they love Cambodia they have always mentioned how beautiful the people are. Friendly and happy are the common adjectives. I saw this first-hand during my time in Siem Reap, especially on a quad-biking adventure we took through the country-side. I had never ridden a quad bike before, so after seeing my skills (read: none), one of the drivers jumped on the back of my bike to help me out of any sticky situations, which I am happy to report were few and far between. Riding through the country-side we saw cows, rice fields, water buffalo, and of course people. Locals whizz by on bikes and kids ran out of their houses just to wave and smile at us. When we got off the bikes to take a photo of the scenery they would edge closer and giggle. They all know ‘hello’ in English so they use it for everything. We got pictures with one group who made the shapes of hearts with their hands and giggled even louder when they saw the digital camera screen with their faces on it. It was so nice to meet the real people of the villages. They were very sweet. We also saw locals perform traditional Apsara dancing at a restaurant. Most of the dances had a boy-meets-girl narrative and we’re pretty easy to follow. The beautiful dancing was performed to a live band which was lovely. As I mentioned earlier, the water festival was blocking off streets and creating havoc in town. We stopped by to watch some races and some people. families and friends were all enjoying the sunshine and the boat racing on the river. Food and drink were being sold everywhere and some locals were happy to strike up a conversation with us as we waited in between races. There’s that Cambodian kindness again. It’s everywhere.

Sunset over the rice fields.

I was surprised by how varied the temples of Angkor were. That helped wave off dreaded ‘temple fatigue’. But as spectacular as they were, I think the best part of Siem Reap was its people.

Phnom Penh: moving on from a tragic past.

Phnom Penh is confronting, sad, proud, poor and its people must deal with the past everyday.

From the 8th floor.

A few years ago I did a trip to Thailand with two friends, after spending time in Bangkok together the group split, with one of my friends heading off to Cambodia and the other friend and I heading south to soak up the sun on Thailand’s famous (or infamous, depending on your taste) beaches and islands. When she came back and told me stories about this country I knew I would want to visit one day. Not just for the temples, but for the people, which are mentioned every time Cambodia comes up in a conversation. Other travellers I have met along the way have sung Cambodia’s praises too. Now, I can see why people love this place and I hate to be cliché, but it has everything to do with its beautiful people.

Flag and Mekong.

The journey from HCMC to Phnom Penh on the bus was a funny one. We were lavished with pastries, cool towels and forced to watch The Expendables 3 on a wonky screen before it crashed out and was replaced by Cambodian karaoke videos. The ride was pleasant, but the border crossing couldn’t boast the same. On the Vietnamese side we crowded in a stinking hot room with no lines or order. We waited for them to call out names but they never seemed to. On the Cambodian side we were greeted with chairs, a fan and even a suggestion box. I purchased my visa, scanned my fingerprints and walked into the next country on my adventure.

Independence monument.

Strangely, for tourists, the currency of choice is the US dollar and only the smallest change is given in ‘riel’ (Cambodian currency). Tuk tuk rides cost $1 per person, water $1 etc etc. I’ll be straight with you, I don’t know anything about economics, so anyine who wants to explain how a country runs off two currencies, one for locals and one for tourists, I’ll be keen to listen.

Tuk Tuk. $1 per person, always.

The journey from here was eye-opening. The povery is hard to take. People sell food and anything else they may have gotten their hands on at the side of the road. Young children in soiled clothes play in the dust. My Dad asked, “how do people live like this?”, obviously, it is because they have to. Which is a strange concept for most Westerners who enjoy what they want, when they want and often over-indulge in that. The poverty is everywhere. Disabled people beg, families sit on mats where you know they will be sleeping and I become more and uncomfortable with my privilege. I don’t know how to react. I don’t know what is appropriate, probably because nothing really is. This continued right into the city, our first stop, Cambodia’s capital, Phnom Penh. According to legend the place was founded by an old woman named Penh who found a tree trunk floating in the river and built houses for Buddha and Shiva statues that were miraculously found. You can visit the hill (known in Cambodian as a Phnom) she built the houses on at Wat Phnom, a lovely temple with buzzing activity on all sides of the mound. Everything from crowing roosters to vendors are making a racket around the base. The people of Phnom Penh are proud. Monuments to significant moments and people can be found all over the city. Old Lady Penh get a monument, as does ‘Independence’ and King Noridam Sianouk. All are lit up beautifully at night too. Like a good monument should be.

Lady Penh’s monument.

I mentioned earlier in the year about my ability to show up in town when festivals occur without knowing that they are on. Semana Santa in Spain, Songkran in Thailand and now, Cambodia’s water festival. The festival revolves around boat races where up to 100 rowers per boat battle it out on the rivers of major towns. This meant that the place was brimming with people, street vendors were even more keen to sell their wares and as always, there was something going on everywhere you look. As soon as I heard water festival, I panicked and had flashbacks to the outrageous water-fight of Songkran, but here, the action takes place on the water, not in it. This is like Moomba or an agricultural show by Australian standards. Just on steroids.

Street food vendors.

Another significant event came to pass when I was in Phnom Penh and that was my 30th birthday. My amazing parents came all the way from Australia to celebrate with me. Which I am so grateful for. And what was the activity of the day? Not my usual birthday shopping trip with Mum, lunch with my grandparents or drinks with my friends. A visit to the killing fields was on our itinerary. Not a very birthday friendly trip, especially considering all the times I cried that day. We went to the killing fields at Cheoung Ek and the Toul Sleng prison. I knew I wouldn’t have missed either. The horrifying and recent history of the Khmer Rouge and the genocide of the Cambodian people shapes the very fabric of their nation. The population was decimated from 7 million people, to just 4 million. The intellectuals were the main victims, but the policy of ‘pulling the weed out by the root’, means that whole families were murdered, even babies. Something like this has shaped the people. If I want to understand them, I need to know this. I can’t really describe what I saw at the fields. I could horrify you by telling you about the human teeth that are still wedged in the dirt paths and the bones that appear through the soil after a heavy rain, the victim’s clothes, ‘The Killing Tree’, the heartfelt tributes for the souls of the dead and the infamous stupa with 17 levels of damaged skulls and bones of victims. Our guide had lost family members in the genocide and you could often see him pausing and reflecting through his explanations. I don’t like to compare, but I found this place was more confronting than my trip to Auschwitz last month. I felt sick most of the time. Tears were constant. It was so brutal, violent and cruel. Here, people were worth less than bullets and horrible ways were invented to maim, torture and kill them.

The bracelets are an offering for the lost souls of the victims of the Khmer Rouge.

After Choeung Ek we visited the Toul Sleung prison where thousands of people were tortured and murdered for information that they did not have. This place was horrifying. People were chained by the legs, and forced to live in their own filth. At the prison, we were able to meet some victims of the atrocities that went on at the prison. One, names Mr. Chum Mey has bright eyes and a kind smile. he encouraged pictures so we could ‘spread the word’ about what went on there. Another was just a small boy when he was rescued. He now works as a cleaner. He says he cries every day but it’s worth it for the world to see what happened. Our guide, who even lost his father also discussed the concept of ‘forgiving and forgetting’. To me this seems like an impossible task, but the Cambodian people’s kindness again shines through. The current Cambodian Prime Minister and many in his cabinet are former Khmer Rouge generals and high-ranking officials. People live with people who may have murdered their family members as neighbours. I found this mind-boggling, but our guide asked a simple question that provided all the answers. He said “if we seek revenge for our families, then they seek revenge for theirs. When does it stop?”. A smarter man than I, a friend I met on Croatia Sail told me not to go to the killing fields on my birthday. He was right, it was devastating. But I’m glad I went there and I was able to understand what happened here. It horrifies me that more people have not been brought to justice, but that is a reality that many Cambodians must deal with.

Mr. Chum Mey: Survivor.

The rest of my birthday was much more conventional with lunch at ‘Friends’, a restaurant that gives street kids opportunities to work as waiters and chefs, eating some deep fried fritters from a street vendor, a beautiful river cruise on the mighty Mekong with dinner, some spider whiskey (horrible), and some cocktails on the terrace at the Foreign Correspondent’s Club overlooking the buzz of activity below.

Over the water from the FCC.

My first stop in Cambodia was a confronting one. The recent past dominates. But there is more to this place than the past and hopefully that means a brighter future.

Ho Chi Minh City: unorganised chaos.

Ho Chi Minh City is loud, dirty, chaotic, crazy and where crossing the road takes major concentration.

From the top of The Rex Hotel.

After around 28 hours of transit I arrived in Ho Chi Minh City (or Saigon as the locals prefer to call it). I left my hostel at 11:30am to walk to Laumiere metro station in Paris and I arrived safe in my new bed in HCMC at 10pm the following day. there’s not a lot to report from those transit days. I got hit on by an idiot at the hostel, I gave my coat to a beggar at the metro station, I ate a block I chocolate for lunch because I didn’t have enough euros for those exorbitant airport sandwich prices (it was milka though, so don’t worry), I ate airplane food, I watched 3 movies, I saw the fancy part of Doha airport (not the shed we had to wait in on the way over), I slept, I ate more airplane food, I watched another movie & the final 3 episodes of How I Met Your Mother to see what all the fuss was about, then I arrived in Bangkok. I took the shuttle across town to the budget airport & stayed there for a good chunk of my life waiting for my flight to HCMC. There was no wifi at the airport, so I had to read a book – shocking I know. Then after a very short flight I was issued my visa, got in a cab & was eating fresh fruit & drinking as much water as I could at the hostel. Transit would have to be the least glamorous part of travel. It is not fun, it’s often boring & if you’re an Australian, like me, it often takes days on end. However, I can’t help but marvel at modern travel, that I could be in France one day & Vietnam the next is sort of baffling when you think I just had to catch a big bit of flying metal to get there. Hmmm, maybe transit did give me just a little bit too much time to think.

HCMC

After the relative calm of Europe, the contrast between the two locations couldn’t be more extreme. The organised chaos of HCMC is like a slap in the face. Much like the humidity you feel every time you walk outside or into a room with no air-con. I want to know more about HCMC because I don’t really understand it. On the street something is happening everywhere you look. Neon signs, hawkers, men playing checkers, food stalls, rubbish, noise, motorcycles on the footpath you’re trying to walk on (that’s if you can fit in between the parked bikes) and Street stalls sell all types of food, motorbikes whizz past you and of course, there are the ever constant cyclo-drivers who can spot a tourist a mile off. It is so different from home. There is something going on every where you look. It would be remiss of me not top dedicate some time to discussing the traffic. Despite not having a car or motorbike of my own to travel on I constantly found myself caught in traffic. Bikes outnumber cars in every part of the city. In fact, there are about 2 million bikes in HCMC alone. Crossing the road is a nightmare; but I learned the secret. wait for breaks where there are no cars and buses and shuffle slowly and let the bikes go around you. This was petrifying every time, but it seemed to work. It is a stressful place, but I think that’s why I like it. It is so different from home. In Europe you fall in love with the beauty, art and culture, here, in Asia, I am fascinated. I don’t know where to look and I don’t know what is going to happen next, but I like it. I think I am addicted to culture shock.

Crossing the road.

There is a lot to see and do around the city. I visited the tragic War Remnants Museum. The place had talks, choppers and fighter jets parked out in its courtyard and inside the tragic realities of war. Particularly focussing on the victims of Agent Orange. I found the images particularly difficult to look at, but the museum itself was a very important part of the trip, because the war is a big part of what makes Vietnam the country it is. A guy in the hostel asked me what he should do one morning at breakfast, I told him the war museum was tough, but very interesting. I said it also provided me with a different perspective of the war as all that I know comes from American films and literature like the amazing collection of short stories “The Things They Carried”.  To have a Vietnamese perspective was different and powerful. He told me it’s his “holiday” and he “doesn’t like to do stuff like that”. I have seen a fair bit of tragic history on this trip, but as I told him, I think it would be remiss of me to come to a place and not understand its people and their past. In the case of Vietnam, victims of Agent Orange can be seen in the streets of the city all the time. This horror is their reality, even if they were born after the war ended. Needless to say, I think that guy is an idiot.

The War Remnants Museum.

There are beautiful old colonial buildings like the post office and the embassies and there is even a Cathedral modelled after Notre Dame. Out the front of this Cathedral we eclipsed the highest number of brides in one place count from Zagreb’s respectable 7 in one town square to an amazing 12 on all different sides of the closed cathedral. Like I said, there’s something every where you look. In other parts of the city I climbed up one of the fancy hotels that I had no right to be in to get a great view over the city and pay $11 for an orange juice for my trouble. I went browsing everywhere from the bustling Ben Thanh market to high-end designer wear department stores. Just walking down the street is an eye-opener. People crowd the streets, to eat and socialise. The parks are full of people who are playing a hybrid game of hacky-sack and badminton. The rubbish piles high. The smell changes from delicious food to rotting food in an instant. There are so many contrasts here.

inside Ben Thanh market.

The most exciting part Of HCMC for me was the fact that I have two new travel partners; my parents. They met me here and we are going to move through Cambodia to Bangkok together. On their first night we went out for delicious pho and I treated them to a night at the ‘A O’ show (which stands for the Ahh and Ohh show) at the old Opera House. The show was an acrobatic performance using traditional bamboo products like poles and baskets. I can’t really describe the amazing talent of these people in my blog, but I was impressed by their skills in everything from flexibility to slapstick comedy. It was a great show despite me not having enough money to but us tickets that had an unimpeded view of the stage, but oh well! The next day we visited the Reunification Palace, the former French governor’s house that was converted into the president’s very 70s style palace. After the North Vietnamese stormed through the gates and unified all of Vietnam, the palace was re-purposed and renamed.  There is beautiful art and furniture all throughout the palace, a party room, theatre, too many reception rooms, a wall covered in dead animals that were given to the president as ‘gifts’ and escape chopper on the roof and a bunker below that made me feel like I was in a cold war movie. Again, the information here used language that I as a westerner are unfamiliar with when discussing the Vietnam war. Like calling the South Vietnamese government a regime.

The Reunification Palace.

In Europe, I can blend into the background, but in Asia, I stand out like a sore thumb. I tower above many of the people and my features give me away as a visitor to the region. Therefore, I am fair game. HCMC is big and a lot of people couldn’t be bothered with me. But those that rely on the tourist trade were often in my face and hassling me to spend at their stall/shop or stand. It goes against what I set out to do this year, but I feel like I am saying no a lot. In Vietnam, and many other countries around South East Asia, people’s livelihoods are reliant on the tourist dollar. So that means, as a tourist, that the locals need your buisness to ensure that they are able to earn money. I understand this, but I often felt like the conversations I was having were going on repeat.

“Hello”

“Hello”

“Where are you from?”

“Australia”

“G’day mate! Oi Oi Oi!”

Cyclo drivers would then proceed to get a book out which would show you some people that they claimed to be Australian who had written them a glowing review. That’s not to say everyone was after my money. Some kind souls saw me looking at my map and offered to help out of the goodness of their heart. But I should also mention I got ripped off a couple of times too. Special mention goes to the coconut man who gave me his products without warning took a photo and then forced me to buy his coconuts at what I later learned was about 4 times the going rate. Well played, sir, well played. But I certainly did indulge is some of the tourist activities.  What would a trip to Asia be without a traditional massage? I thought I’d try one on one of my days here. The massage itself was great. 90 minutes for about $15. which of course, for me, is ridiculously cheap. Little did I know, I was getting a traditional Vietnamese massage which involved things like having the masseuse crawling on my back and lifting my over his head to crack my back. That would have been fine if he didn’t hold me over his head for what seemed like a really long time. we both just sat (well, I was kind of lying flat over his knees) silently. It was so awkward.

Ho Chi Minh posters are all around the city.

Close to HCMC is an easy day trip to the Cu Chi tunnels, the intricate complex where the so-called Viet Cong lived, fought and caught tunnel rats (ie Americans) during what I call the Vietnam War, but people around here call the American War. At the site you explore the tiny tunnel entrances that are dotted around the area. This was quite funny, I climbed into one, as I did I realised that the space was not made for my ample pear shape and although I could fit, it was a tight squeeze. I got in the tunnel, put on the lid, had a giggle and tried to emerge.  Of course, quite a large crowd had gathered to watch someone use the tunnel. As I pulled myself out I had to shimmy to fit out of the hole. There was an audible gasp as I am sure many of the people thought I would surely be trapped in the fox hole forever. Embarrassing is an understatement.  You can also see traps and learn about how the Viet Minh (or Viet Cong) lived and the amazing and intelligent methods they used to fight. There si a shooting range where you can fire an M-16 into a big wall made  out of hay, which I did not attempt. There is also a chance to crawl through the tunnel for about 100 metres. I did 20 of those metres because the space was simply too small for me to fit through. So a very interesting day trip, but not so good for my self-esteem.

The tunnel entrance.

I also had time to indulge in a couple of my favourite past times: cooking and eating. I went to a cooking class with a local chef who taught me how to make fresh spring rolls, stir fry and Vietnamese salad. He was lovely and angry in the way that chefs often are, but he was a good teacher. I have been to cooking classes before where you are given recipes filled with impossible steps and hard to find ingredients. Here, it was fast, fresh and simple, but most importantly, delicious.. I also ate at as many local places as I could. I had pho, bahn mi and noodles from small hole in the wall stalls filled with locals who like to stare. The food here is amazing!

Fresh spring rolls and dipping sauce. Made by me.

HCMC is an extreme experience. It is hard to catch everything that is going on around you. But of you are able to concentrate long enough you find an interesting historical place, filled with a wonderful atmosphere and great food.