Memories of Hoi An

My final full day in Hoi An and a day full of memories. Off once more on the bicycle out of the town and into the lush countryside beyond.
Cycling down the river bank this morning under the blue skies, gazing at the fishing boats moored outside the houses, waving to families gathering to clean, paint and cook for Tet, I realised I had company; a beautiful blue butterfly was drifting along beside me, drawn to the green bag hanging from the handlebars. Together we pottered along the rutted banks until the path ran out…bemused, I stopped to catch my breath, and in the garden of the end shack a family came out and invited me in to sit down with them,, allowing me kindly to use their own ‘bathroom’ and offering sweet hot tea. I insisted on paying for the bottle of water they offered me, which they accepted with much delight.
The genuine kindness of the people here, always keen to offer directions, always happy to help, without wanting anything in return, puts my Englishness to shame, it ‘s a lesson I will take back home with me.
Back to the hotel I now think of as home for a welcome cuppa (Liptons tea on tap here) and then out again, heading the other side of the river around which the town is based, and the source of its original prosperity as an international trading port before the river silted up.  Today the water still gives life here, the landscape littered with market gardens, fishing lakes, ponds and rice paddies.
By sheer chance I came across a village which has cooperative helping finances offering tourists boat tours around the coconut groves in bamboo baskets (coracles). As I was the only tourist in sight, I was greeted with such glee it seemed rude not to take a ride, especially as a 40 minute trip worked out at less than £2.50.
Presented proudly with a bamboo hat and, bizarrely, a lifejacket, I was escorted carefully into the circular vessel and spun out into the green waters by the smallest little old lady, I felt like the jolly green giant as the diverse greens from the groves and the waters reflected through the oars waves onto my face.
The quiet stillness of the dense vegetation and the cool breeze was a balm to the soul. No picture can capture the colours or the sensation of becoming one with nature.
All too soon I was back on the river bank, and cycling back for one last wander along the now darkening streets of the town. The shops are shut, the jostling market closed, as the annual holiday begins tomorrow…the carnival is beginning. I wish I was here to see the Tet festival, having watched the preparations in awe and admiration, but tomorrow I leave for Hanoi. In England my decision to see in the Lunar New Year here in a capitol city looks wise, now I wonder if I should have stayed in this small town which I have grown to love. Who knows-it is what it is; or rather it will be what it will be…

The ancient town of Hoi An

Hoi An‘s old quarter is a world heritage site, much of the ancient buildings dating from its heyday in the 16 and 17th century where it was a major trading post, particularly in silk (the silk route). The Chinese and Japanese were separated by the iconic covered bridge, and their assembly halls, temples and houses have been lovingly restored.
Although this part is a tourist haven, it is beautiful. The ancient town is only a small section, in a bend in the river, and as I set off to explore the architecture and history this morning I realised that it was time for a face mask!

The locals, from babies upwards, all wear thicker and personalised cotton masks, as the air is full of fumes, exhaust, incense, and now smoke-with Tet fast approaching, the more smoke the more good luck, so the road is lined with burners stoked with paper charms, sweets and offerings. I had to settle for a pharmacy bought pack, but the outside was black after only a few hours, so this has to be a necessity from now on.
The traditional wooden houses, with their open outer areas and private inner courtyards, are a delight, especially gazing down from the balconies to the street below, watching street vendors swoop on the tourists!

The intricately embellished Chinese Assembly rooms are breathtaking-see pic of me sitting looking weary by a rather fearsome dragon.

Everywhere I turn Tet is in full swing, there is a symbol of a horse in some shape or form at every corner.
I’ve attached a picture of a gorgeous and immense wood carving on display for Tet, truly spectacular but more appear every day, bigger and better!

The theme tune for this year seems to be Abba’s ‘Happy New Year’, which plays now at sunrise and sunset as well as the communist anthem. It sounds from every street corner; I will never be able to hear this song again without thinking of this trip!
As the sun was dropping this afternoon I sat with the locals enjoying a pure mango shake so thick I could not use the straw and watched a full dress rehearsal for the pageant on New Years Eve.

With vibrant stage lights plus sound at full pelt, those on stage sang their heart out. This (almost) private performance had me in tears and on my feet with the families clapping and cheering at the end!
The Tet flowers continue to sprout , there’s a temple who’s front is now full of flowers, plus the obligatory horse-one which when I first saw it had a garden with just bonsai-now a nursery garden and sculptures have appeared overnight

Paper mache sculptures lit up at night are lining the river banks in the old town. From the opposite bank, where I took this photo, it’s as if the world’s fair has arrived in Hoi An. Walking back in the dark under the stars lit by the passing colours of the Tet decorations I’m caught up in the spell of the Tet, the tingling anticipation of the New Year which fizzles in the air around.

Monday; melancholy and magic

Monday morning blues.
Inevitably, with the travelling ‘highs’ come the ‘lows’.
The more solo travels I ‘ve done, the more I’ve learnt to accept that the excitement and exhilaration are matched with dark days, where I awake lonely, missing my family and home comforts.
The physical and emotional toll of never having ‘down’ time, never fully being able to relax, are especially wearing given my age, the body aches and the mind sighs.
But the best words of advice anyone ever gave me (thanks Andrew) was that experiences are just that, whether good or bad, and this trip is an experience, whatever the individual days turn out.
So, exercise being the best solution to black moods, I abandoned all plans to trawl the cultural highlights of historic Hoi An and once again jumped on the bike.
The hours past in a blur of jumbled sights and sounds and I settled into a rhythm of pedalling along the rice paddies, the rivers and the fishing lakes carved into its bends, the mangrove swamps, coconut groves, towns and villages.
The main town here is a haven for tourists, but as I leave it behind the landscape becomes poorer, the concrete buildings give way to bamboo roofs, held down by sand sacks, the rutted paths become impassable by car and canoes swoop between banks with villagers laden with goods.
And then as if to counter the melancholy morning mood, a magical moment happened. For the first time, as I waved to families spring cleaning their houses for Tet, draping colourful rugs and curtains everywhere, adults and children alike sweeping, dusting, in the river washing pots and pans, I suddenly began to understand, in a very small way, the culture of Vietnam, to feel an empathy, a belonging, rather than a voyeur.
There is anticipation in the air as Tet nears, every house has an orange tree in the entrance, golden flowers lining the doorway, every road and alley is decorated with red flags, the symbol of the horse, for 2014, can be seen at every turn, from the individual home shrines to looming paper mache statues lining the Old Quarter river bank.
This evening the town is buzzing, flower vendors have now taken over the roads as well as the pavement, families pile onto scooters to idle from stall to stall, hawkers with colourful balloons and toys join the throng. Making my way back to the hotel down the main street took ages, literally inching by inch.
As I was stationary anyway, I sat down with the locals for Kem-ice cream, three scoops, durian, coconut and chocolate, liberally sprinkled with peanuts, plus the obligatory free tea in tiny earthenware pots-their generosity and kindness was as much a treat as the gorgeous sweet desert.
 

‘My Son’ ancient temple

A sunrise start today for a trip the ancient Champa Holy Land at ‘My Son’, relics of Hindu temples and towers dating from 4-13th century.
I’ve now got so used to sleeping through the dawn, unlike when I first arrived in Vietnam, I had to set the alarm…in keeping with the communist rule to work with the daylight, everywhere here has open windows with no shutters or just very light curtains, but being a westerner I have adjusted to sleep in anyway!
But I was today up with the locals, holding a breakfast banana and baguette in one hand and a camera in the other, boarding another rickety old bus to rattle along away from the coast and into the dense mountain range.
The temples, now a world heritage site, are set deep into a valley surrounded by towering peaks. Certainly worth a visit, the art inscribed in bricks in the ruins is movingly intricate, the moss covered walls and broken sculptures adding to the atmosphere.  See pics of me wandering the ruins looking every inch the tourist!

Back by boat rather than bus, cruising in a very basic vessel along the not so aptly named Perfume River. 

But there was a welcome breeze after the heat and flies of the valley and the rice lunch provided was also welcome as it was many hours since my banana and much walking had been done.
My companions were unsure of its origins, given the boat was open to the elements and the food had clearly arrived by motorbike long before us, but I covered it liberally in soy sauce and ate with gusto-takes more than dust to put me off free food!
The boat trip took us back into the Old Quarter of Hoi An, another museum piece in its own right but beautifully preserved architecture and a pleasure to visit.
Walking back to the hotel I see even more of the pavement has disappeared to the Tet flower mania-see pics of flower sellers and flower buyer, the traffic hazards are getting worse by the day, bad enough dodging vehicles without having to take the foliage into account!!

 

Rice field forays

 

Off once more on my trusty, rusty bicycle to explore the countryside outside Hoi An, After Saigon I’m still craving the salt winds from the sea, the waving coconut palms and the lush greens of the rice paddies.
And then I found myself completely lost with no sense of direction!
Three cyclists had been following me thinking I knew where I was going, so when I stopped they caught me up and we discovered no one knew where we were.
But Rosie and Jack, from Canada, and their daughter in law Jade from Australia, off on vacation (their son lives in Kuala Lumpa) had a very good map.
Together we worked out a route along the waters edge, weaving between rivers, canals and the sea, cycling over narrow bridges, down mud tracks and into rural territory. The local villages, intent on spring cleaning and decorating for Tet, thought this was a real laugh, waving and shaking our hands as we went past.
Several times we had to stop whilst enormous orange trees and poinsettias were manoeuvred past us by young and old alike –each family aims to get a bigger and better floral display than their neighbours, it’s just like Xmas decorations!
My new found friends and I finally fell into a beachside restaurant for lunch-well, we had to eat lunch, so we discovered, having left our bikes and taken seats for a drink, but it cost more to pay for the bike parking than to eat lunch and have that for free so we did…even those of us who think we’re savvy travellers get caught out sometimes, but in fairness the meal was cheap and we were sitting on golden sands watching the surf under the shade of the palms, not much to pay for a paradise moment.
Over lunch we found we had much in common, as well as a combined love of cycling: Rosie and Jack are Canadian, but Jack's family originated from England, the founders of Marley tiles, he has relatives in Surrey. Originally an engineer, he and Rosie now run an apple orchard and keep chickens, they lose their chickens to raccoons though not foxes.
Returning took hours as we kept taking wrong turns-we knew we were within sight of the town as the cyclo tours were around-the men cyclists took great exception to us overtaking them, and would speed up in competition, slightly to the consternation of those sitting in the chairs who looked rather taken aback as we all raced each other along the narrow lanes……
The sun was setting when the four of us arrived back at our destination. I left them to a recuperative beer, and being English, retreated to my hotel for a nice cup of tea!
My fourth floor room is up almost in the roof, and I can see into the playground opposite and listen to the children playing and the everyday life of the town. A very short stroll along the river bank to stretch out my aching legs, and I’m off for a very early night………

 

Sunset from hotel balcony

 

Hoi An

Oh what a wonderful relief. Cool breezes –tis only about 24 degrees here, not 35- a luxurious hotel room-soo much more for the money outside the cities, for less than £20 a night here I have a balcony suite, bountiful buffet breakfast, and a TV with BBC World News, gosh, is that England I see before me, I’m completely out of touch with western issues.
Hoi An is beautiful. Compare Lewes to London. I cycled to the beach, about 5 kms, away, an unthinkable form of exercise in the city. And then I sat. For hours. Watching the crashing surf break onto the white sands.  I’d headed far beyond the tourist beach at the town and ended up in a village backing onto the dunes.
Fisherman headed out over the surf on individual ‘coral’ circular boats, leaping in and using his long pole to disappear into the horizon. Apparently it has been wet here for a few days so most fishermen went out at dawn today and were already back, but with Tet coming fish are netting a heightened price, so the more the merrier.. I had genuinely not realised that these were still in daily use here and was completely spellbound by the skill involved.
Back to the hotel to wander into Hoi An’s Old quarter and night markets as dusk fell. The town is surrounded by miles of rice paddies which shimmer in the sun and mirror the moon.

Rice Paddies

I stood staring over the river inlet which divides beach from town watching the lights of the historic old town flicker and burst into vibrant colour as dark descended. 

River Inlet

Hoi An’s ancient quarter is a maze of vendors, each road has its own theme, today I meandered along under the hundreds of Chinese lanterns which line the streets eating my supper of green bean cakes ( deep fried in front of me so I’d know it was fresh!) and drinking my carrot juice (well, that’s healthy anyway) before negotiating my way to the hotel, taking my life into my hands jumping into the road around flower displays and stalls which now block the pavements as the town prepares for Tet.  Hoi An’s charms have won me over.


Chinese Lanterns

 

Thursday-rather too much of Saigon!

Well, for anyone feeling jealous of my exciting time, this will make you cheer you up and make sitting on a comfy sofa with tea and TV seem just fine!
Up early, packed and ready to leave for Hoi An, only to receive an email saying the flight was delayed by 6 hours…luckily I caught the email, but not in time to do much other than mooch grumpily around the city.
On the plus side, I wandered around the side streets not yet discovered, and found a tiny local hair salon offering manicures and pedicures for 15,000 each (that’s less than a pound). Everyone seemed very friendly, no English but many Vietnamese who were keen to offer a space in the crowded room.
An hour and a half later, I kid you not, I was suitably buffed, trimmed, scrubbed and had the cleanest, tidiest nails on my hands and feet for many a year. Free oranges thrown in.
Off to the airport in relatively high spirits, only to find yet another non notified delay, a domestic terminal bursting at the seams with students going home for Tet –trust me to pick the first day of the season’s college vacation.
The endless wait and the ceaseless noise did get to me. Young Vietnamese are very sweet though, one came over and gave me a cuddle, another shared her (very pricey) hot sweet coffee with me, and when the plane arrived, we got on one door as the passengers got off the other…so in fairness to cheap airlines, they don’t muck around. The 90 minute flight was down with 50, so I reckon the pilot had had enough too!
Bless them, I had notified the hotel but I was still hours later than expected, but the driver was there, and the staff had waited up with fresh fruit and a welcoming smile, a warm greeting from a family all lined up in their pyjamas smiling and nodding.
The room was refreshingly large, and the weather refreshingly cool, so as Thursday became Friday I settle in at last in Hoi An.

Farewell to Saigon

I am loath to leave now I have become familiar with this amazing city. I have discovered the sounds and sights of each district, I can find my way around without a map, negotiating the maze of tiny lanes intersecting the main thoroughfares, and I am recognised with a smile by many on my daily route in and out of the centre. I sense the rhythms of the day, the raucous noise of daybreak, chickens, children and deafening traffic; the peace of the ‘siesta’ hours; and the rising noise of the afternoon, mimicking the morning plus intense cooking smells of every variety to tempt the palate.
I love the way as the sun rises the lunch time quiet descends, hammocks are strung from lampposts, benches, as men, women and children alike lie down for rest and the city slows to a crawl. Although a cosmopolitan place, this is not (yet) a western place,   here life is lived in public, eating, drinking, and sleeping, outside in the open, people live within the city, not inside it. This communal behaviour leads to a sense of community and people have reached out to include me and  made me feel very welcome. 
The traffic still defeats me on occasion, at times my nerve fails me and I cannot bring myself to step into the maelstrom, but inevitably someone will help, often a party member dressed in green will step up, or a blue clad security guard. The pavements, such as they are, are also lethal-used as a scooter park (hence the predominance of security guards, mainly they are for the parking not the shops) and also a road, the slip kerbs are not for pedestrians but for scooters to ride up and down, into the shop of their choice or up the alley nearby………Much of the time I have honestly felt safer on the back of a scooter than on foot, though there have been exceptions!
There are surprises around every corner. Tonight a bizarre sight: amid the swirling traffic, a gathering at the roadside burning effigies. One enormous model of a house was thrown into the flames, confined(ish) within a hammock, household goods, food were also thrown in, dishes broken over the top, and patterns made with jugs above the flames. A Buddhist monk came to say prayers and throw more gold leaf into the fire. I have no idea what was going on, as no one else paid any attention, I think maybe a lucky wish for a new home, but that’s a guess….
Today I made one final museum visit, to the Fine Arts Museum. Having been so moved by the history of this county, I found more empathy this time with the displays of propaganda art still very currant in the city. Most homes and shops seem to display at least one historical artefact representing their struggle for independence.

The modern art appeared to my Western eyes to be about re-representing ancient Vietnam and pastoral traditions. Contemporary abstract work was very limited, every medium continued the theme of old and/or the war. Maybe because Vietnam in the present is increasingly westernised, to the regret of artists? Or maybe because their traditional pastimes and the war at the two principles which make up the heart of what it means to be Vietnamese today?

There were some incredibly moving artwork relating to Agent Orange, which still affects so many people, and I have attached part of one as a picture as it has very much affected me during my time here so far, visiting the rehabilitation centre and seeing also so many people on the streets with disabilities.

And then another massage, as in the city away from the tourist areas are many old style massage parlours specialising in true Vietnamese massage for the price of under a fiver. ..and my legs/hips/knees are struggling with old age and over use!
The first massage last week was first class but this time it was superlative!!
A blissful hour of perfect pressure, the exquisite side of painful.
Refreshed with my street food of durian food and grass jelly drink, plus some pandamom strips for energy (like a sweet parsnip, eaten with spices, I love it-apparently the Vietcong lived on this for years as it was the only food available bar rats), I wandered the streets watching the city lights come on.
In the time I’ve been here, the Tet preparations have become frenetic. Crazy Horses appear at every turn (see pic), enormous structures are being erected in squares and on bridges for the fireworks and parades, and flower markets are springing up overnight.

My walk ‘home’ along a green park has in the last few days become a heaving mass of flowers, orchids in every possible colour, hundreds of red and yellow planted pots –lucky colours- and stalls selling gold and red decorations.

I can’t wait to see how beautiful everything is going to look next week..its like hyper xmas (bizarrely, there are actually brightly light huge xmas trees, fully decorated, here and there, as a nod to westerners!). Everyone is excited, there is a sense of anticipation in the air…though as everyone goes home and everything shuts, this may be the best bit as far as I’m concerned-that remains to be seen. But it’s a fantastic time to be in Vietnam! Happy New Year 2014 shines from every space, even tiny windows glitter with gold. Glittery but gorgeous.
I love it!
Tomorrow I head off to Hoi An for a change of scenery and a beach, I’m looking forward to seeing more of this friendly and fabulous country.

Zoo and zumba

The heat here is getting to me, the smog is ever present, and the dust from the tunnels is still in my lungs, so today, Tuesday, only a week since I left England although it seems so much longer, I leapt on a scooter taxi for the botanical gardens.
My local driver not being around, a youngster from the hotel was hailed for me, and I was assured I’d be fine…having been fine until now, I got on without a care, only to arrive at my destination shaking like a leaf! This ride was truly scary, normally there’s an inch or two between my knees and anything else, this time it was centimetres, up on the pavement we went too, shooting between lanes of fast moving traffic-that’s serve me right for getting complacent!
The gardens also encompass a history museum, in a gorgeous neo classical building, a temple, and a zoo-all for less than a pound. I’m not a fan of zoos, but I have never seen one like this –the animals virtually roam wild, small children lean in inches away from alligators, the hairy rhinoceros spat water from his nose onto our feet, the giraffe took food from the unwary, the tigers were only a rather too ‘wide’ barred cage away from eating us, and the monkeys and gibbons so tame they sat contently just as if they were watching us not the other way around.
This is such a surreal city. I love the contrasts between the high end and high rise centre, the art deco hotels, tiny alleys and street vendors, markets of every type from the wholesale to the little back street fruit stalls. Today I brought a sweet cake from cycle stall to eat with my ice coffee from the next spot along, and sat peacefully in the gardens with the locals. Eating out ‘in’ will be exorbitant, only the wealthy or the tourists do it, so I don’t, but the variety of street food is wonderful and so far so good health wise ………
The kindness and helpfulness of the people never ceases to amaze me-crossing the road I am invariably taken by the hand by young and old alike, often a local will take me over even when not going themselves, truly generous of spirit.
I’ve become a regular at the zumba and aerobics in the park of an evening, as it’s on my route home. The sunset is early, so by 6 everyone gathers for exercise, and I am greeted now with a smile by many, space is made for me and my bag is carefully placed on a guarded bench. It’s all free and I love the sensation of working out in the hot dark city night.

Saigon past and present.

Today still reeling from the history lessons of the tunnels and war crimes museum, I decided to explore more the role of women in the war...research prompted a hunt for the southern Vietnamese women’s museum , which has been open since 1985 but so rarely visited my tame motorbike taxi had no idea where it was.
Luckily we’d agreed the price before setting off as we went round in circles, literally, as he had one hand on the handlebar and the other gesticulating to other drivers to find the place-very unnerving whilst we were still negotiating the city traffic
When we finally arrived at a college structure in the suburbs, I was amazed to find three floors full of fascinating and richly detailed material tracing the history of women here in the south from the traditional customs, religion, and the struggle for equal employment rights, the war years, and the present day.
There was no charge, I was welcomed warmly by a young woman who ran on ahead putting on lights and air-conditioning for me, and in the two hours I was absorbed there, admiring everything from diaries to sculptures and paintings, I saw not another soul.
An interesting reflection on the past –and to me still the present-situation here.
A respite for lunch in a rare sight here-a vegetarian snack bar! Hence the picture of my rice spring rolls, filled with tofu and mushroom and with soy and sesame paste, yummy! with a glass of ice tea. 30,000 Vietnamese dong, or about 80p.

The history of Saigon is complex beyond worth explaining, but every building seems to represent events in time. The Independence Palace (see below) or Reunification Palace, now a communist landmark and a site of special historical merit, is surprisingly moving too, despite its austere design. Preserved as it was during the time of the republic of Vietnam, it fell to the liberation army in 1975, marking the victory of the revolution.

The communist flags fly proudly now over and around the building, the guards ever present everywhere, guide you with a smile around the ornate palaces of the now defunct old regime. The musicians outside play traditional instruments which seem at odds with the harsh notes of army tanks and marching guards.
And then another Vietnamese tradition which has survived into the present day-The Water Puppet Show.

I don’t know what I expected, it’s an advertised highlight, but expensive if booked as a tourist ’tour’ but I’m a cheapskate.
I simply turned up at the theatre and was sold a local half price ticket, hehe, and it was great fun! Simple but amazingly effective, the seats look down onto a pond and the marionettes perform intricate fascinating ‘acts’ telling ancient stories. Colourful, accompanied by live music again on traditional instruments, funny and spectacular-fireworks flash from the dragon’s mouth-I was completely absorbed, pinto for adults and children alike.

Cu Chi Tunnels and the war crimes museum

Revived after my quiet day in Saigon city yesterday, today another trip into the Southern Vietnam countryside, this time to the viet cong tunnels in Cu Chi followed by the war crimes museum and a visit to a ngo funded centre to provide work for those still disabled by Agent Orange.
I have clear childhood memories of media coverage of the Vietnam war, but had no idea of the extent of the fighting here. The tunnels cover hundreds of miles and played a key part in the guerrilla warfare which defeated the firepower of the US. Built on many levels, there were living spaces, kitchens, etc. Today you can see the entry points, like rabbit warrens, some real and some decoy, and slide into one of the dark, cramped, holes and wriggle/crawl along 100 metres. I was very moved by the tunnel complex, the diverse and cunning ways used by the rebels, women and men alike, to challenge the mighty Americans, and so, despite my profound hatred of being trapped, in I went!

Once in its impossible to turn around or go back, the only way is forward. Not many people make the full length, and of the group of 6 I was with, only 2 of us tried anyway (the men really couldn’t fit in-the US soldiers could not penetrate the tunnels mainly due to their tiny size, designed for viet cong fighters). And only I continued past the first exit post at 20 metres….literally gasping for breath in the dust, pulling myself along by my hands, the voice of the tunnel guide in the distance calling for me to carry on-finally merging to a round of applause and a handshake from the guide.

Given the Vietcong lived down these tunnels for years, my few minutes, which seemed like a lifetime, is nothing, and puts their struggle into perspective.
The area was blitzed by the poison Agent Orange in a bid to deforest the dense foliage, but the resulting effects have been devastating. Seeing severely disabled people working in a ngo funded workshop doing traditional Vietnamese handiwork such a lacquer and egg shell painting and wood carving was very moving.
The vast war crimes museum back in Saigon had a true resonance after the tunnels experience, and I spent a long time reading detailed accounts of the fighting, the compensation claims by Vietnamese and US soldiers alike, the anti war campaigns, and the post war reconciliation and peace. The politics was complicated and I struggle to make sense of the internal divisions then, but the aggression of the US and their eventual withdrawal and apologies were simple and hard now to understand.
Moved by the experiences of the day I walked back through the crowded evening streets, watching the sun set through the arches of the cities’ Notre Dame cathedral and joined for a while those sitting outside, on scooters or sitting on the steps, listening to the choir sing evensong.

The forthcoming Tet festivities are in full swing, the shops and streets are ablaze with colour, and children are brought out every evening to visit the shining statues of the Horse and to have their photos taken for good luck, just like visiting Father Christmas.

After the emotional upheaval and concentration of the day, the happiness and peace of the season was a wonderfully contrasting delightful pleasure.

Religion for the body and soul

A reviving day for restoring health and harmony. Despite the roosters alarm call at dawn, at around 6 am here, I managed to sleep another hour before arriving on the rooftop terrace for my sticky rice breakfast

The kind staff here eventually gave in and called me a motorbike taxi- they are very concerned about my well being and would prefer to place me in a car, but at 10 times the cost I’m more concerned about my wallet-and off I set for the Jade Emperor Pagoda.

This absolutely gorgeous temple honours the king of all heavens, the Jade Emperor, and very open and welcoming to tourists. The tortoise sanctuary in the entrance garden draws children to spot the turtles, symbols of good luck and fortune here. Inside is a fog of incense from worshipper’s prayer sticks but the gold immense sculpture of the Emperor shines through

The women’s room is particularly moving. Rows of female figurines, each one depicting a lunar year, watched over by the Goddess of Mothers.

Back for my first massage of this trip! A full body Vietnamese style-like Balinese rather than Thai, i.e. hard but not a pull and stretch version, which can be a mitt painful!- and at £3.50 a worthwhile investment.

Body and soul suitably restored, I wandered down through the local markets and cafes to take a riverside cruise to see the city at night. Unlike the massive cruise and dinner ships which ply for the tourist trade, this little local ferry boat was a true delight, puttering along under bridges past night markets, the lit up skyscrapers of the city centre contrasting starkly with the dimly lit stilt structures lining the banks further upriver.

Boats, bees and body aerobics

Up at the crack of dawn, this time deliberately, for a trip to the Mekong Delta.
The friendly staff insisted on handing me an enormous plate of three different types of sticky rice at 7am, and much as I love jasmine, coconut and honey flavours, the timing wasn’t brilliant-the Vietnamese seem to eat far more food, and continuously, than we do in England.
And talking of England, and Lewes in particular, there was one other English man on this day trip, a Brightonian who worked at Harvey’s Brewery!
Phil, lovely chap, proceeded to carry my rucksack all day, a true gent, so if he ever reads this, thanks Phil!
Our fellow trippers were a Saigon family giving their American son-in-law to be an outing to show him around as it was his first visit to see his future wife’s homeland.  These outgoing women shared food around from the moment we set off, handing round plates of sticky rice, fruit and nuts…. and Snake wine, an Asian traditional drink. Yes, I did-well, when in Vietnam, it is polite to follow the local customs. Tastes like whisky, but I have no idea how potent. One sip and my knees went numb

Two hours later-minus the obligatory coffee stop so the stall holders could maybe persuade us to buy something (does anyone?)…we arrived at the delta and boarded a motorboat to cross the lake into the canals

Then onto the more basic boat not so comfortable!

And into the canals where the Vietnamese kept hidden from the US helicopters during the war, pulling the high fronds of bamboo over them as shelters so they couldn’t be seen-the level where the trunks were cut is clearly visible still.
All too soon lunch break…up the banks into the traditional homestay where an ‘elephant’ river fish was cooked and served for each of us (see pic). I took a dutiful bite as its rude not too, its like mackerel, but as I’m not a fish eater, I struggled to be polite! And given the state of the water, I was fairly concerned it was full of toxins!

Though, whilst the food was cooking and the hosts back were turned, we all drank the bottles of water waiting on the table-only to then be told that was for making rice paper wraps to roll the fish and rice in…whoops.  Ah well. Talking of toxins and bugs….
Dish after dish piled onto the table, everyone needed a lie in a hammock before back in the canoe and on for a while through the shady dark quiet waters.
Another stop, this time for traditional music and jasmine tea. Etiquette demands money is placed in the flowers and then handed to the singers, hence small cups of tea and very large flowers!

Drifting back along the canals awhile until another hop off to the bank stop, this time for honey tea and a ‘surprise’. The honey tea was gorgeous-see pic of me sticking my finger into the bees to catch the pure honey-wonderful.

The surprise was not so wonderful-as you can see from the picture, it was a python, draped suddenly over my shoulders by our genial host, Son! Uggg..

Back through the narrow lanes and into the main lake, far too soon it was time to head back to the city.
It was great fun, remnants of how Vietnam was once, and whilst now it is clear that the main highways cutting across the rice fields and the new building work lining the route has brought progress to the water based delta villages, and the traditional highlights of the tour are now more for the tourist than a way of life, still an insight into another culture.
This evening, arriving back full of energy at sunset, I took off into the local park to ease my stiff muscles. This being a communist country, I decided it was only right to follow the advertised instruction to ‘engage in healthy exercise’ and joined the party faithful in one of the many free aerobics classes. So in the 30 degree heat of the city night, I and 100 others performed intense exercise…now that was surreal.
And the final picture in this sequence-a shot from the minibus as the lights changed at the cross roads and thousands of vehicles were about to charge in the race to the finish!

 

Sensory overload

Nothing ventured nothing dared-and so this morning, fresh from my rooftop fruit laden breakfast, I negotiated a cheap rate to get to Chinatown, about 30 minutes the other side of town, by motorbike taxi.
Yes, I did get a helmet, and to be honest it seemed less scary on the bike than walking, though being eye to eye with a baby balanced on the handlebars at traffic lights and being buffeted by the sheer noise, let alone wind, of thousands of vehicles, was literally breathtaking.
Chinatown’s Binh Tay Market is a huge emporium of anything and everything alive and dead you can possibly imagine. Exhausting, not least having to keep my wits alert as being streetwise is the only way to hang on to bag as well as toes.
Hence no photos, no chance, I haven’t even risked taking it out of the hostel yet, which was a shame as this evening I saw an absolutely wonderful sunset over the city standing on a bridge with the locals who gather as a rite of passage to see the golden orb drop behind the city, reflecting out along the riverfront.
Anyway, to return to the heat of the day…………several hours gazing in awe at the sheer quantity and quality of market stalls, drinking in smells of spices and sugars, sipping fresh juice and Chinese sweet tea, I was in dire need of a rest.
A seat was required, and the best way to escape the burning sun I reckoned was a cyclo, a bike rickshaw –with a hood to shade me, alas, poor cyclist, pedalling in the midday sun. But I didn’t bargain down too much so I think he was fairly happy!
Off we set around the narrow roads of the Chinese quarter, great fun, at least for me.
Pagoda stops enroute were fascinating.
The first, The Goddess Mercy Pagoda, Quan Am Pagoda, run by Phuc Kien On Lang , is according to the booklet entitled ‘a few feathers about’….over 150 years old, the oldest Chinese pagoda in the city. A maze of altars full of smoke and falling ashes from prayer spirals, a young girl insisted on taking me by the hand and giving me instruction on how to pray to different Gods, especially the ones dedicated to women, As there are 16, I got a wee bit confused, but appreciated the gesture!
From there ‘we’ cycled to Thien Hau Pagoda, with the most impressive roof fresco I have set eyes on outside Rome.  Exquisite colourful friezes in detailed relief circle the pagoda walls, telling complicated stories about Buddhist history.
And then the third, Nghia An Hoi Quan Pagoda, (also supposed to be the oldest in the city!) where the main wooden statue at the doorway is, somewhat confusingly, a massive horse. Apparently the temple is dedicated to a Chinese general, and his Nghai An, his groom, and given 2014 will be the Year of Horse at Tet on January 31st, lighting incense here gives good luck-so obviously I did!
Another bike transport next, this time with an engine to return to the city centre in time for a refreshing ice coffee, Asia style (15,000 v dong from the market, I’m far too mean to pay the 55,000 dong wanted by the a/c coffee shops) and a potter through the side streets to the riverside. Tonight I had time to walk along the canals behind the main river until, as the water curved away from the swirling main flow, the setting sun came into view, unhindered by the skyscrapers of the centre.
Perfect timing, I and a throng of locals, eating dried coconut and spicy wasabi beans, watched the sun set before making my way along the vibrant streets to the hostel. Too tired, alas, to join in the improvised exercise classes in the green spaces along the way, but one evening….
And it only took me three wrong turns this evening to find the door!

Somewhere in Saigon

Saigon is superb; a surreal cross between Hong Kong and Bangkok with a fair amount of Mumbai thrown in for good measure!
Amazingly, so far I have not been knocked down, which is nothing sort of miracle-India traffic has nothing on this, everyone just goes wherever they want to go, around you, behind you, it’s terrifying. Scooters mount the pavement, go in and out of the stalls and even shop fronts, drivers chat as they ride along, babies and kitchen sink balanced on top. The knack, I have been advised, is simply to walk slowly and allow everything to go around you. So far so good!

My body clock is extremely awry. The fraught first flight leg to Dubai was exhausting as a very drunk chap behind me, not helped by being continually served free booze, got more and more loud and aggressive. 7 hours of hell. 
Literally dragged my aching body through Dubai airport, miles of walkways, escalators up, shuttle train down, finally coach to the next plane. The next 7 hour flight passed relatively peacefully, not least as the seat was too small to move out of with ease …arrived in Saigon Tues evening Vietnam time, god only knows when UK time but I was soooo tired - I guess that’s the price of being a cheapskate fare wise.


The hostel is basic but fine, slap bang in the middle of district 1, the backpackers area, full of street stalls, neon lights, bars and noise. Luckily my room is on the side alley rather than facing the road, and literally inches from a domestic balcony full of gorgeous roses and drying washing. The family are very friendly and curious-eyes peer over at me whenever the curtain is drawn from all corners, hands waving…

Having fallen into bed, literally, on arrival here, the sudden awakening today at the unearthly time of 6.30am (Wednesday)  by the bright dawn of sunrise (as usual, very thin curtains, oh hum) plus neighbourhood roosters/children was a bizarre introduction to my first full day in the city.
By 7am I was sitting on the rooftop terrace with Vietnamese coffee and sweet rice for breakfast. A great pick me up. It turns out Vietnamese like coffee very strong, three cups later I’d regained the ability to walk, talk and just about function.

Like a stereo typical English person abroad, I set off into the heaving masses of the city without a proper map or any clue of where or what to do. I just thought it would be a way to get my bearings, so needless to say I went completely the wrong way and found myself by a mosque in an industrial estate.
Fending off offers of motor bike taxi at every turn and taking advantage of the friendly nature of the lovely locals, I made it into the centre; about half an hours walk from where my hostel is –going the right way, that is.

The heat rose as the sun climbed the sky. By noon I’d stall shopped in the massive indoor market, drifted down side alleys and strode down maniac main highways, so sought sanctuary from the heat in an art café where I savoured my first coconut of the trip in air conditioned luxury. Yes, it cost three times as much as the stall outside, but there are times when needs must. (And it was still less than a pound)

The afternoon passed in a blur of colours, parks awash with blossom, looming shopping malls shining with neon lights, and everywhere getting ready for Tat, every shop, bank, office half way through displays bigger and better with each road.
First Vietnamese ice cream consumed, swiftly followed by a second, a green tea and spiced wassabi beans, I do love Asian food!

By sunset (before 5pm, very disconcerting) I’d admired the fantastic imposing French colonial buildings, offered alms in the cathedral, endeavoured to get to grips with the history of the revolution in the city museum, and finally sank into a riverside café to watch the evening descend as barges piled the waves alongside tourist cruises, cargo containers and floating canoes selling their wares.

Tonight the body is battered but the mind and spirit are over the jet lag and loving the atmosphere here…..Heading to bed lulled, hopefully, to sleep by motor alarms, traffic noise and flashing lights, I feel a world away from home.

D (departure) day has arrived!
Case is now locked, whatever is not in isn't going, but I am, off and away.
Thanks to everyone for their good wishes, much appreciated.
Keep your fingers and toes crossed for me!
And I'll keep mine crossed it stays mild in balmy England.
With a following wind and god(s) willing the next post should be in from the hot and sunny city of Ho Chi Minh.....
 

not long now

Counting down til Monday. Packing and panicking in full swing. Currently trying to fit three months worth of body and soul necessities into a 20kg kitbag. ...