BOOMSTICKS!

Nnnngh, I couldn’t resist it and I’m not even a gun sort of person. I just had AK47 ($10…), AK47 ($10…), AK47 ($10…) going round my head and I caved in.

I fired off one shot each for Biggie and Tupac of course, then saved the rest for a handful of particularly memorable Indian tuk-tuk drivers.

This was at the range attached to the Cu Chi tunnel system just outside of Saigon. As well as the war sites themselves, we’ve really enjoyed the fiercely nationalistic progaganda films shown on each tour.

At the tunnel system, we started with a film detailing the war effort of the Cu Chi villagers which included classic lines like:

“This film is dedicated to the American killing heroes of Cu Chi…”

“This woman killed 103s GIs and destroyed 13 tanks – she awarded American Killing Hero Number One!”

And so on. We saw a fair number of Americans walk out of that one in disgust – what a bunch of losers.

Unfortunately, the tunnels themselvs were far too claustrophobic for me and I just couldn’t stomach the 90m underground crawl. I was happy to leave that one unticked to be honest.

The next day we visited the American War Crimes Museum which was about as grisly as you can imagine, especially the Agent Orange victims exhibition.

There – again – we overheard an amusing conversation between a 50-something American couple and the young Vietnamese girl acting as their guide. She was having to subserviently play the native role with the usual dog-eating, no-electricity nonsense, but when he suggested that the only reason America lost the war was because of bad weather in Saigon and that they’d have won if it had been better she replied:

“Er…..no, I don’t think so. Anyway! Here is a series of photos…….”

Saigon itself was absolutely bonkers – as in 8 lanes of weaving traffic, motorcyclists on the pavement bonkers and it was roasting hot. The next day we took a coach from Saigon across the border and into Phnom Penh.

Edit – God that was craply written wasn’t it? Out of practice after Vietnam.

Web filters were back in place so problems updating again. Seem to have a small window of opportuity here in Saigon so a quick post. Arrived in town this morning and paid a visit to the American War Crimes Museum. Tomorrow it’s off to the war tunnels then onto Cambodia the day after.

Dear Vietnam,

Your web-filter bill is overdue…

The dates on all the entries since the 16th February are completely messed up but it covers where we’ve been from there to now. Anyway, back in business now and feeling much better.

We made our way from Nha Trang to Dalat which I fell in love with instantly. Imagine travelling for a few hours up a winding mountain road to find yourself in the middle of an enormous bowl-shaped, tiered level town that’s a cross between The Prisoner and Blackpool in high season.

It’s fashioned from utter nonsense and we haven’t even done a day trip yet – apparently the countryside is full of kitsch weirdness, photo-opportunities with Vietnamese cowboys, a village with a stone chicken the height of ten men in the middle of it, and more crapness than even a crap-fanatic like me could even dream of.We’re taking a day trip with the Easy Riders tomorrow – they’re a band of Vietnamese motorcylists who offer tours round the country that are a bit more off the tourist trail and I CAN’T WAIT!

By the time we took the 12 hour day train to Nha Trang I was really feeling like shit and it was one of the worst journeys I’ve had on this trip with all the snot, the diarrhea, the headache and the fever but we got there.

I’d bought some Vietnamese Valium from a pharmacist by the train situation (“Same same but BETTER!”) but didn’t work up the nerve to take it until it was too late and I’d have ended up being carried off the train to a hotel.

For the first night in our guesthouse we were down-graded to an awful damp room but we had a lie-in anyway before moving into a lovely room the next day where I spent most of the next four days with the exception of a trip to the lamest aquarium I’ve ever seen.

Unfortunately, give or take a few strolls, that was Nah Trang. Lovely place, don’t get me wrong I just wasn’t particularly capable.

Vague general update here as I’ve been sick for the last couple of destinations and not been keeping up to date.

Next stop after Hue was a bus journey down to Hoi An. Very pretty old town but with the lurgey coming down I spent a lot of the time in the hotel watching CNN, sweating and reading while Denise went for strolls.

You’ll have a job keeping me from a beer in the evening though and we were still with Jed when we had one interesting moment in a bar on the first night. When we arrived, Jed went up to ask one of the waitresses if there was live music on (as described in Lonely Planet) but was told there was none that night – shame.

Ten minutes later, we’re sat down with our 2-for-1 meths cocktails having a chat when someone from the bar walked up to Jed and held their hand up at him, palm upwards. On it was written a single word:

“Die.”

Now, it bears reminding that Jed is from the other side of the Atlantic and, there being a certain amount of history between the two countries, this isn’t the kind of thing you really want to hear.

“What….does that mean?”

She pointed at her hand again.

“You want ME to die?” (pointing at her hand and then himself)

She nodded her head.

“Er, really?”

She then started making animated gestures towards the dark alley parallel to where we were sitting and again showed him her hand.

“You want me to die down there?”

More head-nodding.

Soooo, she walked back to the bar and left us sitting there looking at each other with gaping mouths. We spent the next 5 minutes drinking, working out a large tip and discussing what possible misunderstanding there might have been in what essentially boils down to a one-word death threat. (I have to confess, I was secretly tempted to ask loudly if anyone knew where I might contact the BRITISH embassy for some vague, non-specific reason).

When we paid up at the counter, Jed had another crack at clarifying the situation which led to the male cashier writing “Die” on a piece of paper and handing it to him with a stony expression. Well, we know how to take a hint (eventually) and moved bars to carry on the night although most of it was spent recapping the events of the night.

But then, a few hours later, who walks into our new bar but the girl with the writing on her hand! She came over to us and Jed decided to take on a bit of fierce resolve and ask her again what it was about. During his questioning I made gun-at-the-temple, head-lolling-on-shoulders actions to help try and bridge the language barrier between them.

Eventually she called over a Vietnamese barman who spoke English and explained that the music in the other bar had to “die” because of the neighbours complaining (hence the dark alley pointing). Oh how we all laughed at the cultural misunderstanding before going to the bathroom to clean up…

Somebody get the Freebird on!

Before going out the night before, we’d organised a 5 hour motorcycle tour around the temples and monuments of Hue for the afternoon.

Now I’m not a big motorcycle fan but we’d been told by Gareth & Ange that this was THE way to get the sightseeing done in Vietnam so we were ready to throw caution to the wind and get stuck in. This was going to be my second time on a bike, the first being a taxi ride down a long straight strip in Halong Bay

From a safety point of view we needn’t have worried because, as you can see, we had the very best and up-to-date safety equipment:

We had a bike and driver each so we saddled up and hit the roads in the rain. Once out of town, we were soon racing through rural Vietnam and passing rice fields that stretched as far as the eye could see before dodging pigs, chickens and children as we hit the single-lane mud tracks through the villages at 60mpm. Nervous at first, I didn’t want to get off by the time we arrived back at “The Cafe on Thu Wheels.” (Thu’s the owner, ba-da-tish…)

We were lucky as well to have a really friendly and knowledgeable guide running the show and keeping us amused with commentary like:

“Nice group, no French [here he made a stuck up gesture with his nose and finger] and no Isrealis. Same same but different – fuck ‘em.

“Here the tomb of 13th Emperor. He had 104 concubines. One banana many coconuts”

“Another bridge like this in Hoi An. This one same same but better.”

All in all, it was great fun and the only way we’re doing day-tours for the rest of our time here.

I’m losing track of dates here a little bit so an over-all recap from Hanoi (take 2) to Hoi An where we are now, in a cafe, watching the rain piss down…

We took the night train from Hanoi to Hue and picked up a couple of very nice Americans friends on the way. Steve was a 60-something, retired owner of an insurance company who sounds like Hank Hill from King Of The Hill and who had decided to sell his company the day he lost $8,000,000 on the stock market and decided he didn’t need the stress any more. Good decision…

He was a very quiet nice fella and while you’d think from the above that he might, he didn’t bang on about money at all, just delivering insights of his life in a down-to-earth, matter-of-fact sort of way. No concept of money whatsoever, asking questions like: “How much did you pay for your taxi to get to the station? I paid $80, I don’t know if it’s too much”. Basically, he just smells of money and he’s in the wrong place, bless him. Back home, he’s living his happy quiet life and playing at being a cow-boy back on his ranch, throwing in a bit of travelling every year. Nice guy.

The second guy we met who we’ve been travelling with for the last 4 days is Jed who looked me in the eye after introducing myself and said: “God, you’re a Jonathan aren’t you. Me too, it’s awful, you can always tell another…”

Denise, Jed and I shared a four berth cabin with a Vietnamese guy who was very helpful and chatty but was the most extreme snorer any of had ever heard. It wasn’t just the loudness, it was the orchestra of different toots, wheezes, half-choked screams and rasps which accompanied the standard snore.

But before bed, the four of us had made our way to the beer coach where we were turned away and told to go to bed despite the place being full of Vietnamese drinkers. Now imagine Hank Hill saying: “It’s just racism, pure and simple…” as we walked back in a quiet sincere voice and you have Steve.

Well we arrived in Hue at 8.30am – unfortunately for Steve, we got split up from him on the way out and the last we saw as our taxi pulled away towards the Old Town was a 20 strong mob of touts surrounding him like jackals. Denise got out to try and help him and offer him a share of the taxi but she got the evil-eye from the touts and had to just leave him with the details of an evening meet-up.

On the journey to the hotel area, we kept imagining him saying things like: “I’d like a clean, comfortable room for the night but I won’t pay more than $200….”

Later it was drinks all round at the DMZ bar followed by an extremely sound nights sleep after the sleeper train.

Now, as previously mentioned, Denise & I have something of a magnetism when it comes to touts and this, coupled with an extremeley low sales resistance, has cost us a few quid while we’ve been away.

So, discarding the Lonely Planet advice (to make all arrangements for our trip to Halong Bay via an agency in Hanoi) we decided to bite the bullet and buy our travel, accomodation and boating piece by piece as we went along

Big mistake.

Because everyone takes the Lonely Planet advice what’s left in Halong Bay after you arrive are hideously over-priced but substandard hotels and equally expensive boat trips organised by operators whose hands are fair shiney from rubbing by the time you’ve stepped onto their boat.. In short, with no middle-man to organise group discounts, you’re at their mercy.

Having checked into a $50 hotel, we decided to cut our losses. Rather than take the typical 3 day boat journey, we opted for a four hour boat trip round the UNESCO caves the afternoon we arrived followed by a sharp exit on the bus back to Hanoi the following morning. This way, we at least salvaged something from the trip and managed to avoid breaking the bank in the process.

I have to say neither of us felt particularly short-changed as Halong Bay itself was like an out-of-season English seaside resort with weather to match, and three days on a boat surrounded by fog and night time temperatures of around 5 degrees was never high on my agenda. In fact, all things considered, I’d say we probably won this round. The caves were fantastic, there’s some nice piccies up on Flickr in the Halon Bay set.

So, back on the bus to Hanoi the next morning and straight to our previous, lovely and cheap hotel. Phew!

Aaaah, got to feel for the Scousers eh? Still, Barnsley was always going to be a tough fixture even at Anfield. No need to mention the United result, I think they did all the talking last night…

Although we stayed up to watch the football we did actually get up in time to visit the Ho Chi Minh mausoleum complex and a most impressive sight it is.

Set in God knows how many acres, the mausoleum sits in an enormous tarmaced courtyard which itself is surrounded on all sides by perfectly manicured symmetrical grass squares. It was drizzling miserably as we queued up with the thousands of Vietnamese visitors and tourists but the line moved briskly enough and we were inside before too long.

The only problem I had was that I had got it into my head that the whole scene (with it’s grey, fortress-like tomb set in a magnificent open courtyard full of marching soldiers, guards at the mausoleum entrance and armed guards surrounding the glass walled coffin) would be the perfect setting for a heist section in a film – it definitely killed the moment. I could imagine the voice-over as the camera moved through the interior, the soldiers and the courtyard:

OK Oceans, here’s your first job. An art-collector friend of mine is after a VERY special item – but it won’t be fackin’ easy….

I just couldn’t get it out of my head once it was there. Also, I appreciate that 30+years of annual re-embalming will probably take the shine off anyone, but Ho Chi Minh himself looked really, really fake.

He looks like a waxwork Disney World or Madame Tussauds installation and I almost expected his arm to raise mechanically while a voice from a little speaker said: “Hellooo, I’m Ho Chi Minh. Born in 1890 and considered by many to be the father of modern communism, I ruled Vietnam until my death in 1969. Have a nice day….”

The hand lowers, you walk around towards the exit and then, as the next group enters behind you, you hear: “Hellooo, I’m Ho Chi Minh…”

It was good though, glad we made it before leaving Hanoi. Tomorrow we travel to Halon Bay.

Missed Ho Chi Minh today due to oversleeping so that will be something to do on our last day. The Mausoleum is only open 8am until 11am so once you’ve missed the alarm, you’re out of luck.

The whole shoe thing by the way was really the tip of a clothing-crisis iceberg (my clothes are literally falling apart) so we decided to do some shopping instead. We never – of course – went native in India but when I saw I could buy a complete outfit and dress like all the Vietnamese wide-boys for less than a fiver, I knew my problems were over:

100% polyester in case you were wondering. When I walk it sounds like two carrier bags being rubbed together and if anyone lights a cigarette near me I’m going to go off like a Catherine Wheel.

A pair of shoes and another pair of trousers and I was good to go.

After lunch we went to the Water Puppet theatre which was fantastic. The show takes place on a small lake upstairs and the puppets float on the surface, manipulated by attached rods which are moved around from behind a screen. But, like a good Tommy Cooper skit, while they make it obvious how the basics are done they include plenty of tricks that defy the logistics. Big thumbs up from me and D.