Beach Patrol

We continued our way down south via the coast. From Danang, the closest big city to Hoi An, we took a 9 hour train to Nha Trang, a popular beach resort right on the South China Sea. Nha Trang may be the ideal spot for some people, but it was not the charming beach town we'd expected, so we only spent one day there and decided to continue south to another town called Mui Ne (pronounced "Mooy Nay") since it was on the way to Ho Chi Minh City, our final destination in Vietnam.

The day we took the train was Jenna's birthday. What better way to celebrate than be forced to sit upright for 9 straight hours, with Vietnamese soap operas, Vietnamese Star Search and B movies dubbed in Vietnamese blaring at levels that would make your ears bleed? It was such a treat. We reasoned that since we're really a day ahead in Asia, it wasn't technically her birthday and that we would properly celebrate it in Nha Trang when she can actually eat something other than morsels of bread and La Vache Qui Rit (Laughing Cow No-Need-To-Refrigerate-Cheese) and stale Oreos left over from the Shawshank. So we called off the surprise birthday cake from the restuarant car and spared her the embarrassment of us singing Happy Birthday in a compartment full of strangers.

Mike and Val ate same bread and cheese, waved away the free trays of train food but sprang for train chicken that you had to pay for. And train ramen which was not bad, considering.

We rented beach chairs on the beach in Nha Trang and tried to ignore the persistent beach vendors selling more postcards, cooked crabs, T-shirts, massages, necklaces, drinks, snacks, tours, and other crap we didn't want. That night we celebrated and splurged on an excellent dinner and drinks at the Nha Trang Sailing Club. The comfort barometer was measuring high that night.

The next morning, we resumed our backpacker ways and boarded a 6 hour honking bus to Mui Ne. Not all of us could sit together. 2 passengers in the back of the bus vomited. Good times.

We found our charming beach town in Mui Ne, thank god. All we wanted was a place we could stay in for more than one night, and preferably three. The boys did an excellent recon job of finding a great hotel for us. Beach front, pool, breakfast included, and for Michael, a convenient little swell we could see from our balcony.
Mike got to surf, Angelo got his pizza fix, Jenna indulged in a spa treatment, Val got devoured my mosquitoes but worked on her tan and everyone got some R&R and spent some quality time together.

We spent 3 days in Mui Ne, then took another four and a half hour bus ride south to Saigon (we stopped saying "Ho Chi Minh City"...too many syllables.)where the Capobiancos parted ways with the Chamorros. A short, dry-eyed goodbye with promises to meet up in Cambodia after a few days. Val and Michael were picked up by Val's aunt and uncle who recently moved here and whisked off to District 7, where for a few days, life does not resemble backpacking in the least.

As suspected, the food here is much better than in the North. The farther south we've traveled, the more relaxed the country and the people have become. Saigon is all capitalist, all big city, ten times more chaotic. We spent our first day here running errands, missing our travel buddies (so much so we went in search of them, found them and managed to squeeze in some more time togather.) We're grateful to have a few days to spend with Val's family, eat home cooked food, regroup, and make plans for our next stop, Cambodia.

For most recent photos, go to:


Map of Vietnam:
http://www.lib.utexas.edu/maps/middle_east_and_asia/vietnam_pol92.jpg

From the Observation Deck

Vietnamese Road Rules
(also applicable to Cambodia)

1) Small yields to big. And so pedestrians and animals are lowest on the totem pole.

2) Walk, don't run when crossing the street. That way motorists have a better chance of avoiding you.

3) Disregard all traffic lights.

4) Pass on the left. Or on the right.

5) When your side of the street isn't moving due to traffic, proceed into oncoming traffic.

6) If you missed your turn, turn anyway, into oncoming traffic, or down a one way street.

7) Honk when behind someone.

8) Honk when passing someone.

9) Especially on long bus journeys, honk 90% of the time.

10) When in doubt, honk.

There is order in this chaos. It actually works. And it's absolutely thrilling to be caught up in the middle of it.

Hoi An

From Hanoi, we boarded the night train on September 18, down south to Danang, where we'd planned to take a one hour bus to Hoi An, in total a 13 hour trip. Well, the train we were supposed to be on was sold out so our travel agent put us on the next train but failed to tell us that it was not the Express. The bucket of bolts we boarded was noisy and stopped in every station for the remainder of the journey. At the time, however, we were not aware that we were not on the train we thought we'd paid for, commenting on how surprised we were that it was not as nice as we'd expected and wondering why there wasn't a restaurant car.

After a satisfying dinner aboard of baguettes and Laughing Cow cheese that we hurriedly bought from the vendors in the station, we settled into our narrow bunks and had a great night's sleep, thanks to ear plugs and Jenna's magic sleeping pills, excited to wake up to only a few hours of travel time before arriving in Danang. Oh little did we know.

Refreshed from our uninterrupted sleep and eager to arrive already, imagine our shock when we found out that we were still many many many hours from our destination. 13 hours turned to 14 then 16. The words "Gulag" and "Shawshank" were thrown around in fits of laughter as we had to start rationing the food we had left for the longer than expected journey. A strict limit was placed on water consumption for those who refused to use the not-so-clean train toilets. We did an emergency food run at one stop, where the only edible things you can buy at a train station besides dried squid and candy were crackers and thank god, more laughing cow cheese, which coincidentally needs no refrigeration. In desperation, Val starts to squirrel away more food by buying a fish cake patty from the food cart on board. Fish cake patties, already a sketchy item here in Vietnam, let alone one bought from a train cart is a sure sign of dire straits. To our surprise (not the good kind), the conductor came by with free trays of food: kind of like airplane trays of food, only more like it came from a prison cafeteria. More fits of laughter as some of us sampled the food, Val being the only person able to identify anything in any of the trays besides the rice. Jenna, the resident vegetarian was mortified, and actually so was Val, but in times of famine, one has to remain strong. Good times, good times.

We pressed our sad litle faces up against the metal bars of our train windows, patience wearing quite thin at almost 20 hours, when our train finally pulled into the Danang station at 3:30 in the afternoon on the next day. Unable to tolerate another hour of public transportation, we sprang for cabs(the gypsy kind)into town, a nice perk of what Jenna calls "executive backpacking."

The small charming town of Hoi An is set on the banks of a brown river, and lives up to our very first expectations of the romantic Vietnam: colonial architecture, balconies, lanterns, ceiling fans and surprisingly good food. We were especially pleased to finally be somewhere. Lots of tourists here, but oddly comforting because it means creature comforts are more readily accessible. Our hotel has a pool and free worthless internet access. Which should explain our long blog silence.

Hoi An is known for their custom tailors - you can't miss them, every other storefront is a tailor, promising to make a suit or anything you want in as quickly as five hours. After conferring with a French couple we'd met in Halong Bay who were there at the same time (they had about 30 pieces made between them) we succumed to peer pressure and had to see what the hoo-ha was all about.

Michael had one pin stripe suit, a pair of pants, pin stripe shorts and two shirts made. Val had a heavy winter coat made, all for around $200. They look beautiful. Tomorrow we leave for the beach town, Nha Trang, a 9 hour train ride south. Good times.

For photos of our miserable train journey, go here: http://www.flickr.com/photos/31967627@N00/sets/72157594301499699/
For photos of Hoi An, go here: http://www.flickr.com/photos/31967627@N00/sets/72157594301513226/
For photos of the My Son Ruins, go here: http://www.flickr.com/photos/31967627@N00/sets/72157594301485988/

Halong Bay

According to legend, when the Chinese tried to invade Vietnam, a great dragon ("long") descended from the heavens and into the bay ("ha") to help the Vietnamese people. As the dragon ran into the ocean, its thrashing tail carved out all the islands and rock formations that make up Halong Bay today. The many islands helped the Vietnamese to hide from and sabotage the Chinese.

It is truly a beautiful place. The four of us spent the night on a boat with 14 other people around our age, cruising the islands, eating well, sunbathing, swimming and kayaking.

The jagged peaks that rise out of the water are magnificent. Through the mist, the hills farthest away look like two dimensional ink stains, dripping skyward in an upside down world.

For photos of Halong Bay, go to:
http://www.flickr.com/photos/31967627@N00/sets/72157594299039521/

Um, have you seen my dog?

So, I sort of thought that it was a derogatory joke when people said that the Vietnamese eat dogs, taking it to mean that they will eat virtually anything.

Well, they will eat virtually anything and they do eat dog.

Morbid fascination brought us to the part of town where one can find dozens of canine restaurants. To be fair, not all Vietnamese will eat man's best friend and most are probable repulsed by it. However, a fair number people do relish the taste for it as evident in the packed restaurants we found on our doggie tour.

We arrived at 7:30 in the evening expecting to find dog carcasses hanging from windows like the Chinese do roast duck in Chinatown, or see live dogs in cages waiting to be slaughetered, or god forbid, hear the sounds of one being beaten to death with a metal hose (which I've read is how some are killed to tenderize the meat.) Thankfully, the restaurants we found were more discreet than our imaginations led us to believe. Still, we found dark, caramel roated parts laid out on chopping blocks, not exceptionally unsual looking except for the giveaway tail which sticks straight up in the air like a car antenna. We were relieved no heads were on display like we'd seen in a magazine article, a gruesome snarl frozen in what must be a cruel roasting process. We shouldn't judge, really. I'm sure Spaniel kabobs are quite tasty and normal for some people.

Imagining Vietnam

Admittedly, each of us had our own notion of what Vietnam would be like. Michael's Vietnam was a collage of old war films, the Hanoi Hilton, the Viet Cong, while Val's was a more romanticized image furnished in dark teak, languid ceiling fans and wide colonial verandahs filled with the scent of green papaya.

Our drive in from the airport began the gradual reconstruction of those notions. The crowded new highway was flanked by miles of rice paddies out of which rose monstrous steel billboard after billboard, advertising things like a new mobile phone or say, communist propaganda emblazened over cheerfully drawn smiling young people. People actually wear those cone straw hats stereotypical of the Western world's portrayal of a chinaman. Virtually anything can be transported on a motorcycle or bike: a family of five, cages of live pigs, a refrigerator, or a balancing act of baskets 30 feet high.



When we arrived into the Old Quarter, Jenna and Angelo were waiting for us. Ecstatic to see each other, we exchanged rapid fire greetings, all four of us trying to talk at the same time. Our hotel room was the nicest one we've stayed in by far: a relief after the last couple of dumps.

The Old Quarter is a beehive of honking scooters, honking vans, honking cars (drivers here use the horn about 95% of driving time), cyclo drivers heckling you for a ride, street vendors selling everything from baguettes to cigarette lighters. Local markets abound with souvenirs, seafood, shoes, anything you can imagine. Food stalls selling pho (the traditional Vietnamese noodles with beef), com (rice dishes) and coffee (sometimes in old Pepsi bottles) to customers who seem happy to perch on low plastic stools virtually anywhere along a curb, creating makeshift cafes. A fast favorite of the Chamorros and Capobiancos was the omnipresent Bia Hoi kegs, avialable from mom and pop establishments, a watered down beer for 12 cents a glass. Belly up to a stool on the curb next to small heaps of vegetable and fruit peels floating in sludge in the gutter, hold out one finger and promptly receive a refreshingly cold skunky 12 cent beer. Heaven.



Crossing the road is a favorite activity. At first requiring nerves of steel and careful eye contact with motorists coming at you from all directions, we quickly gratuated to veteran road crossers as we waltzed nonchalantly across the road like we owned it. Traffic just moves around you like the red sea, absolutely thrilling!

So far, the food in Hanoi has not been as good as in Thailand. As San Franciscans, we have the best of the best of all cuisines, Vietnamese being high on our list. But so far, the real thing has not measured up, making us wonder which is more authentic, the flavorful SF version, or the disappointing Vietnamese version. Unlike in Thailand, eating where the locals eat has proven to be challenging. The quality of the food is far inferior, giving new meaning to "mystery meat."

The Vietnamese have survived a long history of colonialism, communism, a terrible famine, and the American War (what they call the Vietnam War), to name a few biggies. The country has a decidedly more communist feel compared to their laid back and far more hospitable Thai neighbors. We have been learning momre and more about this socialist republic since our arrival. In this particular nutshell, it looks good on the outside, but when you crack open the nut, there is nothing inside. Besides agriculture (rice and coffee), the tourist industry is the only other viable industry visible. Every other storefront is a bar or restaurant and/or tour operator able to book you a packaged tour anywhere in the country. Everyone is trying to sell you something all the time, it's hard not to feel like you're just a walking dollar bill.

Hanoi Photos are at http://flickr.com/photos/31967627@N00/sets/72157594298984176/

Hanoi to Halong Bay...

Hanoi is insane. And we've been busy catching up with Jenna and Angelo...tomorrow we are off to Halong Bay for a couple of days, then we are on a 12 hour train headed south. So we will be offline for the next 3 days or so. Promise to compose next blog from there.

From the Observation Deck

* Comfort level of pillows in guest houses so far:
1) doormat
2) briefcase
3) sandbag

* Stray dogs. Everywhere.

* Reggae bars seem to be popular, run by Thai guys with fake dreadlocks.

Pai in the Sky II

We've gotten into the habit of waking up very early, or maybe we never got over that initial jetlag....it's a good thing because by lunch time we feel like we've already accomplished a lot. We have a tiny fan only room here at Charlie's Guest House. The mornings start with a litany of sounds we forget exist, in the city. Descending out of the clouds of sleep, we first notice the whir of the fan which is fixed to the wall directly facing the bed. It makes a coffee perculator sound as it beams over us like a spectator at a tennis match. Multiple genres of birdsong nudge us across that final threshold into awakeness. Today is our last (half) day in Pai.

The color green must have been invented here. What a special gem of a place this is - dare I use the word "magical," even. We were in search of a swimming pool I'd read about in Lonely Planet. No address, just "the pool." We asked around and decided to just wander on our bikes til we found it. Out past the main drag, across the river, everything became our own. Aside from the occasional pick up truck and motorcycle rider, there were none of the same familiar faces we'd seen over and over again in town. There we were, two stick fgures yet to be colored in, against a canvas saturated with the most brilliant palette of greens. Bright apple green rice fields lapped at the shores of densely forested, darker green mountains that go from here to Burma. Tucked into one hill was a pagoda, its white and gold stupa peeking through the treetops. Corrugated roofed grain shelters stood stately in the fields like silent metal buffalo sunning their backs. So incredibly peaceful. We followed the hand painted "swimming pool" sign to the most unexpected of places. This eco-oasis in the middle of farmland and not much else. Finding this pool was like hearing the ice cream man's bell from around the corner - it put huge smiles on our faces. Not ten feet from the landscaped pool area, a water buffalo the color of potter's clay was contentedly grazing.

Ahh, but storm clouds were poised and ready, and not ten minutes into pool frolic did the rain start. :( When it cleared we headed farther into the countryside and found the most delightful place, a restaurant called Lazy Chair. It had a thatched roof and bamboo mats on the ground, on top of which were strewn big lazy pillows for resting on and wooden benches for tables. The absence of walls served as our window to the most magnificent backdrop of the rice paddies. The owner of the restaurant, a beautiful wordly woman was handpainting "Lazy Chair" signs to post in town. We had all this to ourselves and felt incredibly lucky. We explored the rest of the day, each place getting better than the last the farther out we rode.

This town is all smiles and friendly faces, from Bohd at the Lazy Chair to Dennis, a native Oregonian who owns the all MAC internet store in town (Apple Pai, ha!) to the sweet Thai Chinese store owner with whom I was able to speak Mandarin and who immediately gave me an automatic You're-My-Peoples discount on a shirt I bought. (We're on a race to revamp our wardrobe and mail our first world clothes home.)

We could spend months here. We will surely return.

http://www.flickr.com/photos/31967627@N00/sets/72157594283867546/

Pai in the Sky

The farther north we go, the smaller and quieter these towns get. A four hour drive north through windy mountain roads through jungley scenery that reminded us of Hawaii, we finally arrive in tiny Pai, a hippy enclave nestled comfortably between rice padis and cloud wrapped mountains. There is one main street strewn with guesthouses and tiny stores. Michael is still in recovery but bravely survived the trip with no incident. In fact, he's talked more in 2 hours today than in the last 36 hours. He's much better but still under the weather. Could be the food, the ice (but those watermelon shakes are too good to pass up!) or our malaria meds....no worries.
Just got here a few hours ago and will spend a few days here before heading to Hanoi.

http://www.flickr.com/photos/31967627@N00/sets/72157594280788099/

Mae Taeng Elephant Camp

Sometimes you just have to be tourists.
http://www.flickr.com/photos/31967627@N00/sets/72157594280791371/

Dear Sam, Val's relative who lives in Chiang Mai, who is part Indiana Jones, part Tarzan, part Mother Teresa, takes us to an amazing Thai dinner (lost those photos in the upload) and also to an elephant camp where we rode elephants, an ox cart, bamboo rafted down the river and completed the day with Mike falling very ill with what I think was the flu.

I stuffed my poor husband full of drugs, water and vitamin C and he spent all of yesterday sleeping it off. Today we boarded a packed van on a four hour journey north to a small town called Pai.

Gentler, friendlier Chiang Mai

Ahh, much better.

Chiang Mai is a welcome change to the crowds and traffic of Bangkok. Our guesthouse is in the exact middle of the old walled city. Upon touchdown, our blood pressure has dipped and the giggle quotient has risen. First thing we did was rent bikes and explore the many tranquil side lanes characteristic of this city. It is not unusual to pass monks on their way somewhere, our vendors pushing their carts of shaved ice or fresh fruit.

Discovering a fresh alternative to Cwofee Tawk, Mike and Val stumble upon Monk Chat in Wat Chedi Luang, a centuries old temple not far from the guest house. We wander over to strike up a conversation with the monks and found them to be extremely inquisitive, jovial and blessed with a healthy sense of humor. They learned a little about us and we, them. Though it was somewhat awkward to talk about our 6 month round the world trip after learning that they basically join the monkhood at an early age so that they can receive an education. They wake up at 4:30 every morning and chant for an hour before hitting the streets to collect food from the generous and pious Buddhist community. They eat breakfast and lunch but no food after that for the rest of the day. They study Buddhist teachings all day and a little English as well, handy if you're going to be participating in Monk Chat with people who ask silly foreigner questions like, "so, what do you wear under your robes?" Kidding. We didn't ask that. But we wanted to.

We love it here in northern Thailand and have decided to skip Laos so that we can spend more time exploring this region and also get to Hanoi a little earlier to meet up with our friends Jenna and Angelo who are 3 months ahead of us on their own 6 month trip.

(Drats. Lost half our photos while uploading them....oh well. The important ones were saved.)



View photos here.
Or copy and paste this link: http://flickr.com/photos/31967627@N00/238277079/

From the Observation Deck

Love you Long Time
Everywhere you turn in Bangkok, you will notice the ubiquitous White male with Thai "girlfriend." Sometimes the contrast between the two is so great, it's difficult not to stare: much older, frumpy, very large men with very tan, much younger Thai girls half their age who barely speak any English. Needless to say, this is quite awkward for Mike and Val. (Mike says: wait are you calling me old and frumpy...and large!?)

Noposh Nosh
Eat where the locals eat. At a fraction of the cost. Even backpacker type places can cost up to 4 times more. Average meal for both of us: like 2 bucks, that includes the mandatory watermelon glass of love.

Tummy-tied
Probably not a good idea to eat before a 2-hour massage. Certain back bends can make it difficult to control certain bodily functions that need controlling.

We're jus' sayin'.

Three Nights in Bangkok

We literally packed and cleaned and rearranged things in Michael's apartment right until the moment we had to leave for the airport. And so, not until we set foot in this bustling city did we truly feel like our adventure had begun. After our 20 hour journey (5 hour transit in Taipei), we arrived in the muggy, crowded, polluted and exciting "City of Angels," Bangkok. Our dear friend Frans met us at the airport and ushered us to our guest house in the Sukhomvit area of town. It was definitely comforting to see a familiar face. This year is the beloved Thai King's 60th birthday and everywhere you look there are thousands of yellow shirts (the royal color, we're guessing) for sale. Every shirt has "Long Live the King" embroidered into it. People actually are wearing them around town.

This is Val's 2nd time to Bangkok and Mike's first. There is a very stark juxtoposition of a shiny cosmopolis against a traditional third world with a myriad of interesting smells, not always pleasant. The humidity is soupy here and multiple showers a day are a must.

Our guest house, SUK 11, was such a delightful find. It is an oasis of calm in this crazy city. A narrow teak house covered in tropical plants on the outside, and on the inside, carefully lit wooden hallways lead to rooms that go all the way down the block, it feels like you're navigating your way through a romantic little village. We have found little reason to leave, and when we have, we look forward to returning to the solice of our temporary home.

Our daily massages have pretty much wreaked havoc on our budget. Today we upgraded from hour-long massages to two-hour long massages, for a mere $10 each.

Tomorrow is our last day here. Bangkok is a little hectic for us, we're escaping north to the quieter and cooler climate of Chiang Mai.

Mike's 2 Cents
When trying to avoid a typhoon-like downpour underneath a bridge, and you need something to take the edge off, opt for Chang Beer instead of Singha. It packs a stronger punch at a fraction of the cost. Go figure.

Out with the Old,* in with the New.**

*Old:
-One of us shaved our head.

-Hotel sized shampoos and conditioners, VHS tapes, numerous things we thought we’d use some day but never did.

- All utilities, bills and services cancelled or put on hold.


**New
-By repeated acts of superhuman accomplishment, we manage to move nearly 3,000,000 boxes of stuff out of Val’s old apartment and into Mike’s apartment, which we’ll keep while we’re gone. Note to selves: less is definitely more.

- Awesome subletter at the ready to move into our place while we’re away. (thanks Patrick and Casey!)

-A smidge past midnight this Sunday, on September 4th, 2006, we will be on our way to Bangkok where we start our six month journey. We cannot be more thrilled and feel extremely fortunate to be able to do this. We’re looking forward to meeting complete strangers and kindred spirits, to eating strange things, to being educated by children and paupers, to having that one epiphany if we’re lucky, to being emphatic about our yeses and saying fewer maybes, to lots of squealing, to open minds and wide open eyes, to discovering the world and ourselves.

We'd love to share our journey with you. Please bookmark this blog address and check in on us from time to time. We will be updating our travels pretty frequently and posting photos as we go. Our itinerary is below. If any of you has a wild hair and wants to join us somewhere, come. We would love the company.

And off we go.

Adios,
Chamorros.


9/4-9/12 SF-Thailand
9/12-9/18 Laos
9/19-9/28 Vietnam
9/28-10/2 Cambodia
10/3-10/20 Thailand
10/20-10/27 Malaysia
10/27-10/29 Singapore
10/30-11/15 India
11/15-11-25 Morocco
11/25-12/8 Tanzania
12/9-1/1 Ecuador
1/2-1/11 Peru
1/12-2/1 Argentina
2/2-2/23 Brazil
2/23-3/15 Panama
3/15 back home in SF