Vietnam Journeys – Days 2 & 3

8 AM departure from Hanoi to Halong Bay (and 3 hr mini bus ride)

Our overnight stay in a junkboat in Halong Bay was surprisingly delightful. I was looking forward to the Halong Bay part but had low expectations about sleeping on the boat and was pleasantly surprised to see we had a very nice stateroom with clean duvet and silk pillows and toilet that worked! There was a shower to boot!

We had three outstanding fresh seafood meals prepared by our Vietnamese chef. Explored a famous cave and went sea kayaking. The limestone islands jutting out of the water were reminiscent of those we had seen in Krabi, Thailand with the locals likening them to every animal under the sun- lots of big and small islands likened to chickens, turtles, monkeys.

Mass tourism creeps into Halong Bay, Vietnam

Established by UNESCO as a world heritage sight in 1994, Halong Bay is indeed a natural wonder but there is no  doubt commercial tourism is taking over. Go now. We even saw a jetski and the hotels are sprouting like mushrooms.

Following a 3 hour return bus ride to Hanoi, we had a couple hours to take in more of this bustling metropolis. We decided to head over to the notorious “Maison Centrale”, ‘Hanoi Hilton‘ or today as it is known, Hoa Lo Prison – the huge prison constructed by the French that would notoriously house Senator John McCain after he was captured by Vietnamese forces when his plane went down in the war. It was interesting to see some of the pics they had of him, including his flight suit, helmut and parachute. It is very unclear if he was tortured like he said he was, or well-treated as the Vietnamese portray the American prisoners as being able to celebrate Christmas, plant trees and raise chickens for decent food. It was an interesting visit though and I am quite certain the truth lies somewhere in between the lines. I’m glad we made the visit.

Where is a Marriott when u need it?! I am closing day 3 onboard an overnight train from Hanoi to Hue. Thank god I have my sarong for a ’sheet’. We are sharing a four person bunk room that looks like a prison cell with two of our really nice new travel mates, Spring from San Jose and Mack from the UK. We passed a couple hours playing rummy and go fish which helped. Having since accepted the toilet is a hole in the ground but so far clean, with paper! And getting rid of only one cockroach so far, I have found peace with my iPhone and Coldplay. Will I sleep? I doubt it. But the door is locked and I have my sarong and Chris Martin, and my husband as guardian. All will be well. There is still much to see in this friendly country.

Vietnam Journeys – Day 1

Arrival in Hanoi, Vietnam, 12.30 pm

All that inconvenience and the expensive! (60 Eur each!) visa paid off as a gruff customs officer stamped our passports with a bang and a fleeting smile. Having carefully followed ‘Lonely Planet’ guidebook advice to ensure we got the right taxi, our adventure really began with our introduction to the Vietnamese motorway. Complete with a mad craze of motorbikes carrying everything from cartons of eggs, live chickens, fresh produce, baguettes, bamboo, 20 kilo sacks of rice. You name it, they carry it, often with the whole family piled on. This is a country where motorbikes are king and the eco-friendly, peaceful image of a country full of people riding bicycles is but a dream of the past. We quickly deposited our (now) small, 15 kilo bags (having left the rest at the office in Singapore) at our modest but clean hotel and took to the streets of Hanoi.

With only an afternoon, we followed the Lonely Planet instructions and started at Hanoi’s famous Temple of the Rising Sun on the lake (exact name escapes me at the moment as I write, will look it up!) Alas, we did not see the mythical 250 kilo golden turtle but we saw one in lacquer. We then picked up some tickets for the 9.15 pm water puppet show and headed into the maze of the Old Quarter.

Formerly occupied by French Colonists, the Old Quarter today is a mindboggling array of shops selling everything from shoes, silk, refrigerators to Vietnam travel tours. Heeding my boss’ advice (having recently visited Vietnam herself), we took a deep breath and crossed the streets with confidence, silently praying the swarm of motorbikes, rickshaws and minivans would maneuver skillfully around us. Horn honking is aplenty and pedestrian crossings a rare occurrence and even then, the motorbike seems to have priority! I wonder who buys all of these things. Mobile phone covers by the hundreds, belts, hair clips, t-shirts in poorly written English, sunglasses…. People from outside the city squatting on a corner bbqing skewers of… chicken? Selling bowls of jelly, tofu and fresh poultry. Lots of tiny ‘keylime’ like limes. The amazing dichotomy of filthy streets, electricity poles overloaded with hundreds of wires, laundry hanging over the streets of what must have once been beautiful old French colonial buildings, now blackened by age, war and pollution. And then the bounty of fresh flowers. Roses, lilies, pretty tropical red ones I remember from the Virgin Islands. Elderly and young women carting a newspaper bundled bouquet home on top of their wares.

The famous folkloric Vietnamese Water Puppet show where the 3.00 USD ‘premium seats’ gave us a middle, second row view of this traditional puppetry artform on water. It was beautiful and well worth the time and tickets.

Day 2 on our way to Halong Bay on a 3 hour bus journey. Having seen many in the villages we pass washing their motorbikes, I can’t help but look forward to getting out in the fresh air. The glimpses of countryside I have seen so far promise the beauty many tell about their travels to Vietnam. A flock of white ducks walking hurriedly single, file along the road as if they are late for a very important date start my morning with a smile. They are living life, quite fully I’d say.

Travels in China

I have been to many places in the world, yet China amazes me. From the sheer grandeur of its buildings, intricate motorways on the outskirts of the ‘Beijing region’, to the Great Wall which stretches 6,200 miles. When you are on it, you have the impression you can keep walking forever and are tempted to do so because you think there will be something more interesting up over the next hill. Such was our experience as we discovered the delights and mystery of the Wall beyond the throngs of crowds. We were thrilled to have the Wall to ourselves, the fog/smog heavy and a lone raven (a superstitious sign in western or eastern culture?) watching us with disinterest from a tree.

I am staying in a very local neighbourhood north of Beijing. The locals are seemingly getting used to the three of us as they smile in recognition and stare less. The strawberry blonde hair, fair white skin and freckles are a rather rare sight in these parts!

We have no hot water but I’ll take the western ‘throne’ toilet any day over hot water! Chinese women must have thighs of steel with this squatting business! It is amazing how one becomes creative at heating water with the electric tea kettle and filling a basin which you can then use to dump over your head! Hey it works! And it’s not just us but apparently the whole building. ‘It will be fixed in October.’ hmmm. Isn’t that when the government allows the heating to be turned on? What a coincidence!

Day two was Tiananman Square and the Forbidden City. First adventure for all to brave the local bus followed by the subway. Thankfully a kind man seemed to recognise our puzzled expressions as we stared at the subway map trying to decipher the English translation of the stop where we stood which was completely different from that of the Fodor’s guide we held in our hands. Success. Approximately 1 1/2 hours later, but we were officially subway savvy and independent.

To be continued…

‘The streets of San Francisco’

The best way to see any city is surely by foot. We pounded the pavements of this California gem for two days checking off the ‘must sees’. The Mission district, Hayes Valley, Pacific Heights, Telegraph Hill and Coit Tower, Chinatown, Fisherman’s Wharf, Nob Hill, Alamo Square with its Victorian house ‘postcard row’ overlooking the city and amusing ‘dog play area’. After that we hit the ‘unique’ 60’s hippie vibe of Haight-Ashbury, Golden Gate Park (preparation underway for the annual Aids walk) and the alternative lifestyle of the Castro where fruity cocktails and leopard skin briefs are aplenty.

Haight-Ashbury: a 'unique' side of San Francisco with 'colourful' characters and a 'flower-powered' history.

Walking through these neighbourhoods enabled us to San Francisco’s real colour. Tourists (lots of French and Dutch!), sadly many homeless people – some admittedly with a great panhandling sense of humour with cardboard signs such as: ‘why lie? I need a beer,’ or ‘I bet you $1.00 you look!’ 

Stopping in a bank in Grant Street in the heart of Chinatown, we felt as if we were in another country. Mandarin was the de facto language as we watched little, elderly Chinese ladies cash cheques, stuffing hundreds of dollar bills into their purses. Stomachs rumbling, we had a $5.99 all you can eat dim sum and BBQ buffet complete with beverage and almond cookie for dessert. The pastry chefs chattering away in animated mandarin making steamed rolls and dumplings as a group of local men traded tales at the back of the restaurant as they probably did every day. A Mexican, an old acquaintance of the Chinese owner thanking him for another great meal.

When we weren’t trying to be sold dodgy illegal substances in the Haight-Ashbury district, and looked past the grubby exteriours of meth-addicted street teens, you couldn’t help but be touched by their community culture of helping unknown strangers like themselves. I am reminded of the young girl with a sign saying she needed food, only to watch as a group of boisterous street teens opened up a backpack and handed her a large, new packet of graham crackers which she accepted gratefully with a smile.

We finally rested our aching feet and muscles in a hot jacuzzi before heading ‘upmarket’ to a fantastic neighbourhood Italian on Russian Hill for grilled calamari, Marsala infused veal and homemade gnocchi. A far cry from the sights and sounds we had experienced during our foot tour of San Francisco but pleased with the rich cultural fabric of all we had seen.

For the full San Francisco experience, wear comfortable shoes!

A taste of Switzerland

Crisp alpine air, friends, food and wine – the perfect ingredients for chicken soup for the soul. 

This was my second trip to Switzerland.  Having first visited Switzerland in November, I was curious to see if this small, beautiful country of ‘peace lovers’, bell-toting cows, Olympic hopefuls, cheese, Toblerone and structured, law-abiding society would still capture my heart in June. 

I fell in love. Was it Switzerland? Or the whole package of a perfect weekend among dear friends? Walking along the rocky shores of Lac Leman, picking wild strawberries and playing hide and seek in the forest like kids again. Laughing hysterically as we were chased over pine needle paths by our 10-year-old chief to avoid fresh wood shavings down our backs and in our hair.

Wildflowers of every colour in bloom, strawberry fields ready for picking, farm fresh eggs (just drop your money in the box – thank you! the honour system still exists!), cherries from the tree in the garden, (several) delicious Viognier bottles from the local vineyard and a dramatic picture postcard view of both the Jura and Alps.  

As my delightful hostess put it, “one never gets tired of looking at this view.”  

I couldn’t agree more.

The sensory pleasure of gratefully immersing one’s body into warm, healing thermal baths like those at Lavey Les Bains. Drifting on a mat, eyes closed in the ‘relaxation pool’, I listened to the soothing singsong of whales through the underwater audio system. Standing under the ”mushroom shower”, the water massaging my head and neck, I marveled at the majestic view of the rocky ravine towering above me.

For the love of natural beauty, travel, friendship and that invigorating feeling of breathing pure air and living off the land. Yes Switzerland, I will be back!

“After that bear, we’re going through”

I love this quote from our ‘girls weekend’ and 2009 Viareggio carnival adventure in Italy (near Pisa).  It sums up the scene perfectly as we pressed our way through a crowd of clowns, smurfs, ‘toilet paper rolls’, ‘French maids’, ‘mafia gangsters’ and some very real looking ‘Jack Sparrow’ pirates.  (Impressive – Italian men don’t need to work very hard to look the part – they got the looks AND they don’t mind eye make-up!)  

“Why are there so many furry animals (e.g. a bear, leopard, lion, giraffe…), smoking?!” a friend mused sipping her beer in a plastic cup leaning against a stand selling speciality carnival wafer-like sweets and popcorn. This was just the first night. Little did we know what to expect the next day…

It turns out floats are big business in Viareggio.  The people of Viareggio build huge paper-mâché puppets and floats in hangar-like buildings by the sea, often taking a full year to bring these enormous floats to fruition. Many of the figures satirise public and political figures and are paraded through the streets on set days during the month under the watchful eye of Viareggio’s carnival mascot, Burlamacco. The floats carry a few hundred people in costume dancing and singing to loud Italian carnival songs in the shadow of huge moving, animated puppets – eyeballs rolling, bones rattling, gorilla arms reaching towards the crowd… (People inside the floats manoeuvre the weights to prevent the puppets from toppling over.)

We learned carnival is also a licence to play practical jokes.  This includes throwing confetti (think of us wading through confetti snow when the parade was over), the fun of spraying silly string and tagging unassuming people with shaving cream. (errr… I know nothing about a group of rowdy teenagers targeting my black wool coat but luckily my friends were well prepared and had tissue ready to remove the trace…)

It would not be Italy without the delight of fabulous Italian food for virtually nothing.  Grilled sea bass, fresh octopus salad, spaghetti vongole… several bottles of montepulciano Tuscan wine and prosecco of course!  

You can’t help but take secret pleasure and satisfaction in seeing the usually chic, fashion-conscious Italians look absolutely ridiculous.  The Venetian carnival seems much more civilized, but not in Viareggio.  The pink and purple hair and clown-like hats had an amusing resemblance to German carnival in Cologne.  If you looked really carefully, the Gucci, Armani and Prada sunglasses were still there…

My favourite part of the weekend? It’s hard to say.  Taking in the scene with good friends, actively participating in the revelry around us through the eyes of our carnival masks and enjoying the laughs made it well worth the journey.

Oh yes, and there was that wink and mint thrown to me by a very handsome ‘Jack Sparrow’ Johnny Depp-like pirate who caught my eye from a float… Viva il Carnevale di Viareggio, Viva Italia!

Long live the travel bug

To escape the chaos of work and life, I take solace in travel.  

“I am not the same having seen the moon shine on the other side of the world,” (quote unknown) reads the words inscribed on an old greeting card tacked to my wall.  

It has been hard to see the forest through the trees the last couple of weeks.  Work is trying to say the least, (I will spare you the sordid details and preserve this blog from corporate tales of woe and dispair)!  It continues to pour rain…  Add a cocktail of snow, ice and wind for good measure and people are in vile humour.  Today’s icing on the cake was the incredulous news the Belgian government which already can’t govern (we’re on year two of non-governments and quick fixes) seems to have a new national bank on its hands!  The latest palaver in a string of many… sigh.

But I digress.  It’s clear the sunlight at the end of the tunnel for me is family, friends and travel.  So it is in this spirit that I confirm my 2009 holidays – at least the big ones! Miami and the Caribbean this spring, west coast in summer and Asia in autumn.  I think LeJaguar is in a bit of shock but has nevertheless graciously accepted my imminent departure for a ”girls weekend” to celebrate carnival in Viareggio, Italy.  Having a travel plan takes off the edge like a smooth glass of Oregon pinot noir.  It gives those of us who like to think of ourselves as travel connoisseurs, something to look forward to.

So break out the feigling, toast to travel, carnival and friends and enjoy the temporary escape from reality while you can.  It will be worth it.

(oh and go to the gym and pound out your aggression on the machines.  I’m staying the course!  It helps!  Work may be tough but if I can look and feel like a million bucks I will be unstoppable.) Go, go, go!

The shell seeker

I strolled along a wooden bridge spanning the natural wildlife preserve of Parque Natural Da Ria Formosa (Algarve, Portugal) towards sandy dunes and the winter afternoon sun. Cresting the hill, a pristine clay-coloured beach with waves crashing against the shore lay before me.

Aside from the waves and the occasional seagull’s cry diving into the Atlantic ocean to catch a fish, the beach was void of all other sound. I took a deep breath of the fresh air and followed footsteps in the sand: a medium-sized dog, a galloping horse, someone with a walking stick, little feet walking next to larger feet… They took me far along the beach, past broken shell piles in search of sea glass, driftwood and other unusual finds.

The ocean shore has always been a peaceful retreat for me on such picture perfect days. I can spend hours walking up and down the shore, thinking of really nothing at all. When my pockets are brimming with shells and it’s time to brush the sand off my feet, I leave the beach refreshed with a new view on life and my troubles carried out to sea.

Heading back across the bridge towards the car, sun setting behind me, a couple of Portuguese clam diggers and sandpipers dug through the low tide mud in search of elusive clams. I may have left the beach behind for today, but I look forward to more shell seeking in the future. One day, I will have a little beach house with an ocean view of the sunrise or sunset from the living room and will fill it with fishing floats, shells and sea glass from faraway lands.

A villa in the Algarve and golf lessons please

Crystal blue skies as far as the eye can see, radiant sunshine, birds chirping, yellow and red flowers timidly unfurling their petals in the shade of pine groves and scrub brush. With earth the colour of red clay, sandy beaches and warm sunshine (16C, 61F), the Algarve on the southern coast of Portugal is proving to be a perfect winter getaway from sub zero temperatures, snow and ice.

What a fantastic way to start 2009.  Sitting by the pool (albeit not IN it!), tipping back a couple of cool ‘Super Bock’ Portuguese beers, book in hand (Richard Yates, Revolutionary Road), I could not help but laugh at the beady-eyed sparrow hopping back and forth on the chair across from me, desperately in search of the crumb he was not going to get today.

To soak up more sunshine, I later took a long walk around the Quinta do Lago area we are staying in near Faro and was struck by how beautiful it is to be on vacation near a golf course.  There are at least four golf courses and a fair amount of retired Brits who have caught on to this winter secret.  Sun, golf, peace and quiet… what more could one ask for in January to beat the winter blues?  I am once again reminded how I really should take up golf, so I too can enjoy the beauty of the courses and share laughs about lost golf balls and surly iguanas.  In the meantime, at least I can still partake in the ‘apres-golf’ drinks and enjoy the scenery!

It occured to me as I wandered through palm shaded streets, and past immaculately manicured gardens of villas such as  ‘Casa Esmeralda’ ‘Casa Bella’ and Casa de Lobo’, (second holiday homes for seemingly wealthy English and Germans), that this would be a very nice place to have a ‘little’ getaway year-round indeed.