When in Nam

Chickens.

Crazy Nah Trang surprisingly did not end with a bang as we all made a collective decision to gain something more than a wounded liver and sore dancing feet. The thing is, as a backpacker you get sucked into the vibe and ironically the 'routine' that you develop as a means of socializing and getting involved. Of course you have moments where people need their space and curl up in a corner to read a book, blog or be absorbed by the temptation of facebook and emails. But on our last day, proactivity reigned. The sound of our alarm caused a harmony of groans and grunts and slowly, slowly everyone rolled out of bed for breakfast.. a meal that hadn't occured before 12pm for a while. After breakfast motorbikes were easy to sort out, 2 licenses required (the legitimacy of which didn't phase them), 4 helmets, and we were off to go. After a wobbly start, realizing the speedometre wasn't working and checking our fuel gage, we realized petrol was an essential. Looking out for huge 'petronas', 'BP's' or 'Shell' signs wasn't the way to do it, so we stopped at a little plastic bottle with a plastic cup placed over the cap, that apparantley symbolized a petrol station. The tanks were filled up and we continued our ride through the crazy vietnamese traffic, the cows, and the people casually strolling across the busy street. 

Boat cruise in Nah Trang

 we arrived in Vietnam the one significant noise that awoke the senses was the constant beeping of every vehicle on the road, whether there was a reason to beep was insignificant. But riding a motorbike
to the waterfalls suddenly lit a spark. The signaling on the bikes don't work, the mirrors are half cracked and no one follows road rules, so beeping is literally the only way of warning someone that you're a foot behind them. We rode past beautiful scenery, the beach, old houses, greenery, fishing villages and finally stopped to show someone our little note in Vietnamese that read 'please show us the way to the waterfall'. Somehow we found it, transitioning from a tarmac road to a bumpy, dusty sidepath that killed our wheels, we saw a group of familiar faces that had just parked their bikes for 20,000 dong (because ­everything in Vietnam has a price). 'Jack be nimble Jack be quick' came to mind as we all jumped over the rocks spiderman style, with our two vietnamese 'guides' leading the way.. (well mostly lagging behind to help me balance with a bottle of water in one hand and our Mary Poppins bag in the other). We arrived at the scene of tranquility, sitting on top of rocks, tanning in bikini's with a few beers and cigs we soaked up the afternoon sun. Adrenaline rushes were a requisit as we jumped from the huge rocks into the clear water below, being rushed into the waterfall and feeling the pounding massage of it all over our backs. We floated along with the current under the caves to sit in silence for a meditation as our sensations experienced the thrill of the cold water. 

Waterfalls in Nah Trang

I rode the bike on the way back, taking a wrong turn of course and getting a piece of roadside plastic stuck in my foot but we managed our way back in one piece (much to the surprise of all of us). We arrived to see everyone in a scramble with their bags all over the place. 'Have you collected the laundry?!', 'Are you sure you have the bus ticket?' 'Where are our passports!?' 'Oreos :)?'. We got onto the sleeping bus and after a valium or two we all lay in peaceful slumber until the movement of the engine stopped 11 hours later, and we were further North, in Hoi An. 
Hoi An's beautiful, one of my favourite cities so far. It's divided into the new and old quarter - after checking in to our hostel and doing the usual meet and greet with our dormies, we rented bicycles and explored the old Hoi An. Through busy markets piled high with colourful bowls, tropical fruits, meat of all kinds, eggs, huge coconuts, hippie clothes, along the river, across the bridge, through the graveyard with it's spirit houses and interesting murals and back through the village to go home. The ecstacy of it all took a turn later that night when we had a usual panic attack of missing something, and realized to our dissapointment that my camera with all our holiday snaps had been stolen. 
The next 2 days were a mission to say the least. We merged into spy kid mode, talking to everyone we knew, going back to the notorious 'Why Not Bar' in Hoi An, watching hours of CCTV footage of drunks swaying all over the bar, trying to chat up him or her, and slowly losing the ability to dance in a consistent rythm. And then we get to 1:02am and watch a 24ish year old boy ask the manager for the camera, look through the photo's and with a smug smile, claim it as his own and walk away. The manager got on the case and sent us out with his 'guys' on motorbikes to track down the apparant 'German' backpacker. We had the leads and everyone knew what he looked like so that night all senses were awake. A huge dinner with about 20 of us that evening lifted the weight of losing a material possession a bit, and allowed everyone to just enjoy each others company. That night we didn't track him down but hours into making friends with a few vietnamese locals, we were swerving through the empty stillness of the night on our bicycles, watching the street lights change colour and contort in unison. 

The next day the mission continued. Walking into the police station, all eyes were on us -- at that point when you're confronted with higher authority you lose all ego as the power is shifted to whoever you need the help from. We brought the gangster looking police officer to the bar, to watch the footage, to get a stamp, to get our money back from our travel insurance. Boring boring boring. J and I sat in the police office looking at each other from across the table and trying not to laugh, of course we'd ended up there within the first 2 weeks of being in a foreign country. At least we weren't there for the wrong reasons. It wasn't until the day was over and we'd got what we needed, that we realized the manager of the bar was one of the biggest names in the Vietnamese mafia. So bringing police to his bar, that were obviously in on whatever games he had going on, didn't gain us any free drinks that night. 
Our last day was spent letting go of the cortisol that had built up too much for a holiday, and we lay by the pool at our hostel, walked along the beautiful beach and said goodbye to part of our group. It's funny how fast you can bond to people; whether it happens on nights/ days out or when you're travelling. But after a few days, when you're all practically living together, saying goodbye and not knowing when you'll next see them does sting a little. Our habit of clinging to permanence has never been so realized. As we're leaving we see one friend running  like a headless chicken over his lost ipod, with his original recordings and no back-up. What a funny coincidence, our camera, Jd's ipod, K's IPad, C and G's camera, R's wallet and passport. It just never ends. I guess it's a lesson about the value of material things.. and being more aware. It wasn't about losing the camera it was the sentimental value of the photo's, but if we could capture them through a contact lense or without needing a handheld device, this whole responsibility thing would prove a lot more simple. 

Hue - the imperial citadel

Our alarm went off at 9:30am after a big night out, and everyone could be seen groggily walking out of their rooms to catch the amazing free breakfast buffet that closed at 10. After missing it a few mornings in a row, sleep wasn't going to take priority. We packed our clothes, bought snacks and water, and crashed out on the 4 hour bus ride to Hue, our next destination. We arrived to see our smiling crew, the crazy welsh lot, Nat, Jordan, our Aussie girls, our English boys and so many more. It oddly feels like you're at home when you're around so much familiarity. Hue backpackers greeted us well, and J had some bonding time with his mate that worked there and had hooked us up with a room.

The one thing you don't want to deal with, besides theft or loss, is illness. And whether it was tap water, dodgy meat or unclean veg, the tummy bug began and knocked us out like dominoes. I was first, so had a quiet night in (pain). Hearing Big Ben being carried up the stairs 40 minutes after they'd left to go out and a few chairs and tables crashing on the balcony, I snuggled up under a duvet, drained but content that I'd have the clearest head in the morning. 

The next day was both painful, adventurous and upsetting. An odd combination but all justifiable. Ladies, never get a bikini wax in Vietnam for a 'cheap pri', 3 words: blue, plastic, pain. I'll spare you the details, but for an hour I had my eyes closed and fists clenched with a ruthless, unhappy vietnamese woman standing infront of me, ah the lengths you go to for beauty. I was whisked off on a motorbike by J to join our new local buddies for a few beers. It's funny how when you drink, the part of your brain responsible for language is more activated, so drunk vietnamese dudes that know a bit of english can get quite chatty. We listened to their harrowing stories about poverty, their families, what they thought of foreigners and vietnamese girls. The list was endless, and we came away with a few important words: 'Chuc mung nam moi'/ Happy new year - appropriate as everything in the country's slowly closing down and prices are slowly rising as 'Tet' approaches. They don't like to call it Chinese new year because of the beef they have with them over the colonization that took place in the past. We jumped on the back of their motorbikes and were taken to their local hang-out. Luckily I got the driver that wasn't drinking, so my ride took a bit longer, but crossing the bridge as the sun set was so worth the experience. So we get dropped home after a day that we'd all been craving, and then comes the uncomfortable question, 'can you give us money'. Money ruins people. We were all so dissapointed, the first Vietnamese locals we'd met that we genuinley felt wanted to just spend the day with us, expected us to pay them. 'I've lost faith in Humanity' B. muttered as we gave them $5 each and walked back to the Hostel with a different demeanour than when we'd arrived 5 minutes before. We showered up and walked outside to the strumming of a ukelele that provoked conversation with our new lovely Italian stallion Roberto. We invited our new friends a long with our huge group for another big Indian Splash out. Our one treat ($6 per person, ha.) That evening my bestie and I rode around the imperial citadel by night on the back of another motorbike, discussing 'love' with our new Italian - they know how to romanticise it all. And then teenagedome kicked in and the group migrated to 'Brown Eyes', the local gay club (that the boys of course didn't realize until a day later, their eyes opening wider with the realization of why all the little vietnamese boys were clinging to them all night). 

Bus party

Despite a pounding head and a still-sore tummy, we managed to fit in a bit of culture the next day, while running to the bathroom and glugging down bottles of water with diluted ORT (oral rehydration tablets) that tasted vile. The imperial citadel of Hue was impressive -- the Vietnamese symbols for 'money' and 'luck' scattered the place while the moat surrounded the ancient palace. Inside was a model of what the grounds used to look like, and in   they must have been grand and the golden throne that the king used to sit on was preserved in all it's glory. 
We wondered around and after a few fumes we crossed our legs beside the still lake and meditated with the sounds of buzzing insects, birds and the wind. The chants stretched out across the water and our minds floated

through the ripples that the frangipani flowers made as they scattered around the lake. Leaving the citadel we were in a daze, until the realization that 'THE green bag' that had all of our money and passports in it, was gone. We frantically ran around the place, adrenaline pumping and our 'fight or flight' senses kicking in full force. Luckily it had been turned in untouched to the guard house and our breathing slowly returned to normal. We made our way back to the hostel for a boogie before the bus ride to Hanoi. Club tunes were pumping, Ben, and only Ben, was downing his rum and we spun around the room in hippie pants and scarves, attracting the other backpackers as they walked passed with a smile. 

Arriving in Hanoi

The bus arrived and we all jumped in, claiming the back half for ourselves. We had disco lights, vietnamese tunes, valium and oreos so we were set. It was like a huge, silly, slumber party and after our 3 hour break and a couple of flower fumes, we crashed out and awoke in Hanoi. I remember feeling the cold on my back, and groggily trying to turn off the AC, until I realized when we stopped, that it was ridiculously cold, and noone had warm clothes with them. We jumped into a taxi, getting ripped off completely and arrived at Hanoi Backpackers Hostel, holding onto each other for body heat. Jordan got into his panda suit onesie, I put on every layer of clothing and we ordered tea and coffee, none of us had come to SE Asia for the cold so we weren't impressed, as could be observed by our hunched postures and frowns. We walk into the hostel and see everyone we've met since Ho Chi Minh, the frowns dissapeared. 

It was Tet so the city was bustling with life before the dramatic 5 day silence following it prevailed. We walked through the old quarter, sliding through the motorbikes, the chickens being plucked savagely and pho riddled with snails being thrust into your face left, right and centre. In Hanoi the curfew's 12pm, and when I say curfew, the police literally turn up everywhere on cue to shut down resteraunts, shops, clubs, the lot. But luckily for Tet, things stayed open slightly later. The party kicked off at our hostel at about 6pm and everything went uphill (or downhill for some) from there. We went outside for a breather and bumped into yet another vietnamese local taking hits from a tobacco bong. I was lured into trying it and would not reccomend it to anyone. Cold sweats and a spinning head with a security guard laughing his ass off was what went down for about 5 minutes. And then was the firework rush. Everyone, as though pulled by a huge magnet, started migrating towards the expansive lake that was about 10 minutes away from us. It was like being at a concert, pushing and shoving and all gripping onto each others hands, wallets and phones. We had half our group but had lost the rest, so in a spin I jumped on J's shoulders and looked across at the thousands of faces spamming the area. I was wearing a red hoodie and waving my hands around for about a minute until I spotted the beaming faces of our remainders. We ran to join them and as everyone embraced as the fireworks kicked off at 12pm sharp. It was new year all over again and synchronicity was taking place everywhere. When the rush had calmed down the movement of people began again, in the opposite direction. And after realizing that a chain of us didn't work, we seperated, threading through the crowd swiftly and losing each other in no time. I jumped around asking people for directions and resorted to sitting at a plastic chair noodle bar to wait for familiar faces, that appeared within minutes.

The next 15 minutes of that evening isn't something I'd wish to repeat again, as it's getting pretty tiring, it seems we've been granted a losing streak. 'Where's the camera?' Blank faces everywhere and despair sunk in that we were indeed repeating history. The pain on my face got me brownie points and the security guard rumaged through every draw in reception, pulling out a black camera case with a smile. The glory dancing at 'Hair of the Dog', a nearby club, was probably one of the happiest dances of the holiday. On returning to the hostel I snapped a shot of the hostel workers Tet meal, as they offered us rice wine shots and chicken heads, that J swallowed in one - eugh. It was comforting to think that if anything's gone wrong so far this year, we could always start again?

Not many people made the 10am curfew for breakfast unsurprisingly but we all spent the next day recovering infront of 'The Inbetweeners' with fumes and munch. The city was a ghost town so the extortionate prices on the hostel menu got the better of us. But the burgers, chilli, cheesy fries and lots of other heart attack material went down well. 

Bobster

Hanoi was fun, there wasn't too much to discover but we did have a spot of luxury when we were taken out to lunch at the Hilton by family friends. Rocking up showered and clean was the best we could do, but we still felt so out of place. Soft shelled crab, tiger prawns and burgers were inhaled and we waddled back to our hostel satiated. Night times were spent dramatically running around the streets searching for lost ones, laughing our hearts out in showers and trying to quietley climb down fire-escapes and up ladders to our top bunk without waking up everyone in our dorm (it didn't prove to be succesful, especially being in the awkward position of forgetting your key inside the room at 3am and having to face the tired, grumpy face of a stranger that's letting you in.) 

Our crew's moved on to Halong Bay, on the East coast of Vietnam. I was expecting a hot sunny beach but it's overcast, cool and mountanous, not a bad thing but we're all craving a bit of vitamin D. Everyone's in a different zone at the moment, J's just realized his whole money bag's gone, our passports lie at reception in Hanoi, everyone has at least one missing piece of clothing, and I am shoe-less. Waiting for the boat today we pranced around with our arms up chanting like noobs in an attempt to rid ourselves of our losing luck. 

Hopefully Halong holds good things and good weather (touch wood).

Recipe of the day: Soft shelled crab 

http://allrecipes.com/recipe/fried-soft-shell-crab/

Good Morning Vietnam!

Oh where to start, the backpacking adventures have begun - it makes me dizzy just attempting to recall what's happened over the last 10 days in Vietnam. We're currently in Nha Trang, a beach on the north-east coast of Vietnam. It's beautiful, full of backpackers, bars and food - all we need really. Our hostel's called 'green apple', a slight step up from our previous room down a quiet alley near the night market. We didn't realize why it was so cheap until the construction work started in full swing at about 5am, an hour after we'd passed out - it didn't put smiles on many of our faces. This hostel's right above one of the busiest bars in town so we have it all at our doorstep. Before this trip started alcohol wasn't even considered in our budget of $150 a week, so the cash has been thinning faster than expected and my bank card's found its way into an ATM machine a few too many times - but something we've realized is at these touristy joints, if you don't go out for a drink or a dance socializing proves to be a bit of an issue. 

The imperial citadel at night in Hue

Vietnam began in Ho Chi Minh, the previous capital 'Saigon' in the south of Vietnam. We stepped off the plane awaiting the rush of south east asia that we've become accustomed to but before we could get anywhere we had to wait for our backpacks to come riding down the conveyer belt. Our backpacks that consist of everything we need for the next 6 months, so basically our lives. We stood waiting and watching the same few bags go around again and again with no sign of ours, my heartrate quickened and then out of the corner of my eye I spotted them on the floor at the back of the room, they'd been sitting there free-for-all since we'd arrived - I'm still surprised we tracked them down. So we stepped out of the airport and restrained ourselves from jumping in a taxi to our hostel - instead we took the local bus, not knowing where we were supposed to get off and feeling vulnerable knowing we were being ripped off; the adrenaline was pumping at the thought of having finally arrived in Nam, the constant beeping of the motorbikes, buses and cars only adding to the rush. That's another thing, the motorbikes here are ridiculous. I was warned but after KL I didn't think it could be much worse. Traffic lights, zebra crossing's and people walking across the road means nothing so crossing the road is like being in a video game, the main goal just being to try and not get hit by one of the million ruthless vehicles surrounding you. I started as well as i could and left my money bag with my credit card on the bus but had a sweet vietnamese man return it to me - great start. We couldn't face walking to our hostel with rumbling tummy's so we sat down at a little plastic chair place and had some rice, pork and bamboo shoots washed down with a king coconut. We made quite an entrance as we sat down with our huge bags and J's strap caught onto the little metal table flipping it over and knocking down our unimpressed neighbours dishes, at least they were nearly finished? We lugged our bags through the city feeling the communist vibe as we looked at the groups of people all wearing the same uniform and performing odd exercise routines in the park. Saigon Youth Hostel showed it's face after a few mishaps and we followed the fumes to the balcony at the top to bond with other backpackers over a spliff or two. That evening we were joined by N. and went for drinks with our new group of mates on the happening strip in town, entertained constantly by the fire dancers and the hilarious guys dancing to Gangnam style. To our delight we managed to attract a frenchy 'John Baptiste' that put up with us for a great night that ended with 2 minute noodles and a ridiculous climb up to our dorm that was 'conveniently' on the top floor, at least we were near the balcony. 

Ah he was a mad one

We all awoke groaning from the morning parade that was blasting into our room from downstairs, the song has been replaying in our heads ever since, but it forced us out of bed and into an afternoon in Ho Chi. We were determined to fit in a bit of culture while it was all so readily available so went to find a travel agent to book a trip to the Cu Chi tunnels. Mid-booking we hear a fire-cracker like sound and i turn around to see shoes flying across the road. People started crowding like ants so we went to check out what was going on and see a dead man lying face up on the street with his arms twisted and blood pooling around him. He'd somehow fallen or jumped from the top floor of the building we were in but the story was never clear. Seeing a dead person was traumatizing in itself but watching the reaction of the man crying next to him just hurt, the despair in his face was harrowing and the rest of the day had a solemm feel. Walking 10m down the street where noone was aware of what had happened just made it all the more weird, a harsh way of saying 'life goes on'.

We managed to fit in a few cultural momentos, though we missed the war and fine arts museums because they all close so early. We wandered around the palace, admired the glorious 'Notre Dam' and visited the Cu Chi tunnels. The Viet Cong created a whole world underground with all the fixtures and fittings, they had different 'floors' with kitchens, a place to bathe, areas to shoot from and all accessable via the tiny dark tunnels that spread out in a complex maize that only they could decipher. We had a chance to crawl through a few and oh my lordy, if that was one of the work-outs in P.E I wouldn't have lasted 5 minutes. The way you have to squat and manouver whilst carrying a huge weapon and trying not to sweat to death is besides me. We saw the terrifying traps that they used to catch intruders, the most humerous being the 'souvenir trap' - you step onto the grassy square to reveal metal spikes that penetrate your foot in a way that doesn't allow it to release hence you have a 'souvenir' of a huge metal spike to take home - eek. J got to feel manly by shooting a few guns and amidst all the rubbish the tour guide told us, I did take home knowledge about the 4 most important animals/ symbols in Vietnam. 1) Dragon - luck 2) Unicorn - Power, 3) Turtle - Immortality and 4) Phoenex - Beauty. I don't really see the connection between the tunnels and the animals but hey, it was interesting. That night after a few too many tequila shots and saigons, we partied with our new Aussie couple at a nearby club, crazy buffalo - the early morning bus to Mui Ne that we just caught was therefore greeted by 3 totally intoxicated teenagers that reeked of alci- thank god we chose the sleeping bus. 

I love the kids here

If you're not Russian, a kite surfer or rich, don't go to Mui Ne. We managed to budget by all sharing a double bed in a guesthouse, and struck gold when we met an Irish guy that ran an upmarket bar/ restaurant on the beach. We tapped into our stingy selves and bought a small bottle of water and a saigon bẻer, in return for spending the whole day by their amazing pool with free sunbeds and old school RnB. By night it turned into a suave bar with western waitors in black and sexy lighting, so after our one drink had finished and we couldn't bear to spend all our money on another, we went looking for more and ended up dancing our hearts out in an empty club with an audience of Vietnamese hookers and a few large white guys.

The beach in Hue

We escaped Mui Ne when we could and have been sucked into all that is Nha Trang. We've been spending our days on the beach, with other groups of backpackers, munching on fresh pineapple and mango, singing along to guitars, talking to fire dancers about their lives on the road and meditating in the sun. I love that you don't have to go anywhere to get anything when you're here, Vietnamese ladies walk passed you every 5 minutes with jewelry, cigarettes, food, drinks, hats, clothes you name it. Given, it does get frustrating how much they try to bleed you dry of your money but it's understandable given the poverty that they live in compared to us. Our mid-afternoon snack's been a quick bowl of Pho, grilled chicken and rice or lots of delicious morning glory or we get lazy and splash out for munch at 'A-Mart' on ice creams, chocolate or oreos, all the best heart attack material. Our nights have been blurry to say the least, buckets of booze at red apple, ring of fire, free shots all along the strip at 'Oasis' and 'Why not Bar' and lots of crazy drunken dancing. Rolling around in our hostel tickling security guards, getting ridden home on motorbikes or rikshaws, climbing up Vietnamese flag poles and waking up in the morning with a few new room-mates who didn't know how they got there. All of which is remembered in the morning when we sit around in dark glasses over a greasy breakfast looking through the photo's and cringing. We braved a booze cruise yesterday that started at 8.30am and consisted of a big group of backpackers on a little boat with lots of booze. Along the way we island hopped, went snorkelling, had a big group lunch and floated in rubber rings around a floating bar. We've all been left sore with sunburn but our stocks of Aloe are high so hopefully the red fades to golden at some point.

Another night

I began this trip with one mate and now we're 4 going on 10 - I have tưo of my best friends, a crazy munchkin we picked up along the way and everyone else who's doing the same route as us. I find when you befriend someone it's always based on the commonalities you share, whether it's your taste in music, where you're from, what you look like or what language you speak. Here the one thing everyone has in common is backpacking. We're all sharing such a similar experience that conversation flows faster than the Mekong at high tide and the next morning we've all got a few new friend requests, as much as we try to limit our time on social media. Age is irrelevant aswell, I'd say we're the youngest the majority of the time but it doesn't matter. So we continue, tomorrow we're renting bikes to explore a few waterfalls about 45 minutes away - our attempt to do something a bit more than consuming caloric beverages. It's that time of the evening again, the music's blaring and we're washing off our sandy bod's for another 'quiet' night in Nha Trang.

Recipe of the day: Pho

http://steamykitchen.com/271-vietnamese-beef-noodle-soup-pho.html