Nha Trang beach living...

After four excellent days enjoying the Hoi An high life we had just a few hours spare before the long, overnight bus journey south to Nha Trang, the next stop on our Vietnamese adventure. Before then we made the most of our last few hours in this charasmatic and beautiful little place. After spending virtually the whole day wondering the streets, stalls and shops we finally tore off the spending shackles and bought enough local produce to rival any of the local busnisses. Sticking to our daily budget has, at times, been a bit of a struggle but despite buying a stack full of items we even managed to stay within budget, which probably tells you more about our tightness than it does about the local prices. To be fair to the two of us though, we have become clinical barterers. It's going to be strange, when that day finally comes along again, when we have to buy milk and bread from the local Co-Op without the ability to knock a few pence off. I guess we could give it a try but I think the special employees may get a tad confused.

After buying quality chop-sticks, some much needed vests, a few pictures, another tacky magnet and Shell's replacement 'travelling' engagement ring we were done, glad to retire to another great (and cheap!) restaurant to fill up before our long journey. We ate at a place called Morning Glory, which despite the name, did yet more amazing food without a male waiter in sight. You never know, they could have taken thier employers name literally! The food was delicious, yet again, but we decided that the service wasn't up to scratch, not enough smiles. It's amazing how you start to pick up on things now! From there we seemingly did a 'food crawl' and went over the road for dessert. A place that had cake portions the size and shape of a breeze block, I opted for Tiramisu and Shell the Mango cheesecake and within a milisecond several pounds had been added, and I don't mean the bill. As we sat finishing our coffees we noticed an old boy walking down the street holding a big set of weighing scales. He went up to the nearest female he could find and threw it at her feet demanding she step on. It just never get's any less surprising to me, the enterprising spirit of this nation. It's as if the whole country wakes up in the morning at 6am, looks around the room and thinks 'how do I pay for my scooter petrol and cigarettes today?'.

Back at the hotel and waiting for the bus we were startled by two guys in helmets on two motorbikes. They got off and beckoned us to get on, with all of our bags. Now I honestly can't remember ever being on a motorbike before and I know Shell certainly hasn't, so this proved to be a bit of a challenege. Turns out, these guys would be giving us a lift to the bus which was waiting downtown. So on we got, both of us with our big rucksacks on our backs, the smaller bags on our front, I was carrying a bag of two 2 litre bottles of water in one hand and, embarrasingly, two small quiches balanced in the other that we had bought for the bus journey, all while hanging on to old Valentino Rossi for dear life. You really can't make this stuff up, a real British wally.

After being the last two people to get on the bus, we were ingloriously pummelled into the last two remaining berths, one in one section of the bus and one in the other. We were on a similar bus before, with three rows of beds, but this even had people sleeping in the exceedingly small corridors between the beds too. So in my section there were four people sleeping pretty much side by side all the way, for 12 hours! The bus also, amazingly, played really really shit Vietnamese pop music really loudly until at least 2am, at which time an old German guy had obviously had enough and went absolutely mental, I think threatening to eat the driver if he dared to turn it up a notch again. At that point we had turned into wrecks after being pummelled all through the night by a dual nightmare of both poor roads and terrible driving.I guess the only salvation of the bus trip was meeting another English couple, Mark and Luara, who we instantly got along with. Upon reaching Nha Trang we exchanged email addresses and planned to meet up the following night. Just as long as we could stop looking and feeling like relatively tanned zombies.

After checking into our hotel, Le Suisse, we plonked down our bags and managed to get a couple of hours sleep in before we woke, took one look at the Blackpool-esque weather outside and decided to take a long breakfast upstairs. The breakfast bar, on the tenth floor, is pretty special, it has amazing views of the mountains to our back and ocean to our front, interspersed with hotel high-risers, something which is all over this town, a kind of laid-back and overall better version of somewhere on the Costa Del Sol. Not that it looked anything like holiday weather outside. Despite this, we finished our breakfast and headed out to explore our new surroundings. That night we met up with Mark and Laura, after a marathon skype session with friends and family and headed to one of the local bars for drinks. They're situation is scarily like ours after getting engaged just before they came away too. Unlike us though, they have everything planned and will be getting married soon after they arrive back in the UK next summer, good on them though, really nice guys. I doubt we will be that organised. My role in this wedding thing has alrready been and gone! Well apart from demanding a hog roast and real ale stall. I don't want much...

The next morning the weather had changed and so had our impressions of Nha Trang, transferring instantly from shitty Northern beach resort to tropical paradise. Maybe the latter is a tad flattering but we both love the beach and Nha Trang supplements that with a bay that curves around, dotted in places with little islands. The beach itself is good, apart from the absolute incessant hawkers who try to sell you anything from sunglasses and bracelets to books and flat, dry pancakes. In any one day I think the average, 'no thankyou' count stands at around fifty, truthfully. The sea itself it majorly rough, but apparently this only happens in late October-early November, the rest of the year it is furtively calm. Nice. After seeing Mark and Laura down on the beach we planned to meet up later that night again and head out for curry, one of the guidebooks reccomendations. It turned out to be as good as they suggested in the book and an absolutre steal for around £3.50 each!

From there we got hustled into one of the bars with promises of a about a million drinks for free. I don't know if it is like this usually but I have got absolutely no idea in the world how this place makes any money whatsoever! Between the four of us, beacause of various drinks deals, we had two bottles of Tiger beer and either a Gin and Tonic or a Mojito between us and it cost 20,000 VD each, (55p!!). Absolutely insane.

For our final day in Nha Trang we essentially read our books and sat on the beach, batting back the constant array of sellers and planning our next moves down towards Saigon. We are well on our way now! What a life this is. We are certainly not taking it for granted. Tomorrow we take a bus south for around 4 hours to a mountain town called Dalat, a place where strawberries and flowers are grown widely instead of the usual rice, a climate that may mean we don two layers, no way!

Much love, Tommo xxxx

Finding hidden treasures amongst Hoi An's riches...

So after yet another morning of having to get up with the Vietnamese (6am-they don't mess around!), we boarded the bus that had pulled up outside the hotel in preperation for the 4 hour journey south to the small, ancient town of Hoi An, a journey of 250kms. After finding out that we were yet again on the same bus as at least four other couples who we had met at other times in Vietnam we were on our way. After an hour or so of passing through increasingly rural backdrops it dauned on you that this area was a prime target for US air strikes that did so much to devestate a rich and fertile land, not that the people living around this area make a decent living off the land. On the road towards Danang, the biggest city in the area, you come across the desperation of some of the local population. As cars hurtle past they run as fast as they can to try and make at least a small sale. All they seem to be holding, these girls who must have been in their twenties, was a small collection of small skinned, lifeless chickens. The look on one woman's face as it became increasingly obvious that her neighbour had miraculously managed to wave down a car was heartbreaking. This isn't poverty at it's most destitute and detructive, they still have a roof over their heads and clothes on their bodies, just a desperate attempt to sell at least something that will provide at least some sustenance. The problem is with Vietnam, after being a here a very short while, is that people are absolutely desperate to throw off the shackles of poverty, to become as wealthy as possible. The problem is that if all the population have the same aspiration then they become less genuine as a result. The people, almost as much as in China, seem to be losing common sense, the ability to see clearly. Instead their unblinkered aspiration of wealth just creates problems. The evidence of which can be seen everywhere.

Anyway after being dropped off at the hotel we dropped down our bags and headed straight back out to check out the town. Before we got to the old town, an UNESCO world heritage sight, we ate at a fantastic little place called Streets cafe. This place, run by a serious-ish New Yorker who told us all about tightly woven rice paper (great conversation actually) is an absolute gem. It finances disadvantaged young people to become great chefs and waitresses which in turn means young people who try as hard as possible to create an astonishing eating and dining experience, all for the cost of a pint. Shell had a crispy pancake filled with pork and shrimps which came with coriander and lettuce and several rice papers for you to roll your own fresh spring rolls. I had Cau Lau, the local Hoi An speciality. It consists of big doughy noodles, thick slices of pork, greens, chillies and a great sauce in the bottom for you to mix around. It also had amazing croutons made out of crackling. Just incredible.

Walking around the old town two things came to mind. One, this was definitely the hottest we had been yet, we felt as if we were melting! Secondly, the abundance of tailor shops. Now Hoi An is famous for it's tailoring, that you can understand, but when faced with the choice of over 400 different ones it becomes just a slightly weird. How anyone could pick and choose between this lot is a mystery to me. We discussed the possibility of having some clothes made, in fact we sat with a couple of women and discussed our options but in the end we just couldn't think far enough ahead to be thinking about having suits, wintercoats and shoes made. It just didn't make any sense at this point in our trip. I'm sure we'll regret it one day but then hey, it's clothes, just things. Things we can without. Materialism helps nothing.

On the way back to the hostel we sat and had a beer in the delight that at 10p each, we had found our cheapest ever drinks, and they were brutally cold and delicious. Utter perfection. In fact this is how it would play out for the next few days, eating and drinking way too much, in increasingly beautiful restaurants but never paying more than the price of one appetiser back home, for the entire meal!
The next day we hired bicycles from the lady across the road and headed towards the beach, 4 kms away. On the way we passed yet more stunning scenery until we were whistled at by a man in a large pointy hat to pull over and pay another bloke who took our bikes and put them in a large cowshed, for safekeeping. Finally at the beach we were both pretty amazed at the sight before us, masses of white sand, gloriously warm sea combined with a perfect sea breeze. We knew Vietnam had beaches but we didn't know they came as pretty as this! We stayed there the whole day, I even managed to get in my first run of our trip as I ran hard down the beach towards Danang and China Beach, the spot where American GI's had there R&R time during the war. On the way back I literally ran into a group of fisherman pushing their boats into the water, I offered to help but I think they took one look at at my perspiring body and thought they'd better stay clear of this madman, sweating beer.

After a good few hours we cycled the way back, not before stopping at a place called Dingoes Deli for coffee and cake. Like a mirage appearing in the middle of a hot desert, the place came completely out of the blue, prteyy much in the midst of rice paddies and a few roadside shacks selling seccond-hand aftersun (seriosly). The menu was full of mouth-watering options for lunch so we decided to come back the following day.

That night we opted for a place highly recomended all around that went by the name of Miss Ly's. After hearing about a taster menu they do there we both thought it would be foolish to miss out on our first ever taster menu so we decided to treat ourselves and go for it. Five courses of delicious Vietnamese and local specialities such as the White Rose, a delicately steamed rice paper and crispy fried wantons stuffed with pork with tomato and shrimp salsa on top. I've said it once already but I will say it again, the food here is mindblowing.

The next morning we woke up fine but were to be irritated for most of the day by the guy on reception in our hostel. After asking to move rooms to a cheaper one to save a little bit of money he seemed to find everything so funny. Although you can't ask everyone to understand how saving a few dollars a night is extremely important to us, you can try your hardest not to be a twat and laugh at these cheap little foreigners. He even had the audacity to talk to me then start smirking and turn around to his little Viet mong and start talking so that we couldn't understand whilst blatantly talking about us, in front of our faces. Now we have met some amazing Vietnamese during our time here but he is not one of them. It's Ok though, because he both looks and sounds like a mix between a Vietnamese Alan Carr and a school prefect.

After hiring bikes again from the very exciteable woman opposite the hotel (I think she likes us, someone has to!) we biked it down to the beach even though the weather wasn't as great as the previous day. As time passed the weather gradually improved until it was once again, blisteringly hot. By this time a large group from some indeterminate Eastern European country came and jumped into the sea despite the fact the red flags were out. We both laughed as we couldn't help but notice their strange choice of swimwear, all tight multicoloured speedo's and brown thongs. Stereotypes, sometimes, really do ring true.

Stopping once again at Dingoes Deli we ordered sandwiches, as we craved western style food for the first time in a while. I ordered a sandwich that came with at least ten different ingredients in! All this food and drink got us talking about how we've not had a bad meal in all of our time in Hoi An, well in Vietnam for that matter. If food is your your love then Hoi An is definitely your heaven...

The next morning at breakfast a spider the size of a small boy ran under our table, it literally looked like something out of Alien and for the next ten minutes after it made it's dash to the outside, I was shaking. But then so was Shell. We've had lizards, cockroaches, ants and birds in our rooms so far and we have been fine but spiders are a different matter. And before you all start saying things like 'wait till you get to Australia' or along those lines, I was there and I've seen the buggers, they are huge and deadly. This one though was the biggest I have ever seen and it had the purpose of a mental patient.

Outside the weather was appaling, real Monsoon conditions that didn't show any signs whatsoever of letting up as we made the 50kms or so to My Son, pronounced Mee Sun, Vietnam's prized archeological sight. Compared, quite unfairly (according to the guide) to Angor Wat, it is a huge complex of ancient ruins dating as far back as the 4th Century AD. Unlike Angor Wat though, My Son is very much in ruin. Apparently used a base by the Viet Cong during the war, the Americans sent in the bombers and obliterated about 85% of it, in typical 'precise' fashion. Even so, the building work was so consistently good that much still remained, including three enclosed temples. Despite the continous bombardment of rain and the increasing crowds all trying to take the same photos, it was an interesting morning, well worth the £1.80 entrance fee. Shell seemed to really enjoy snapping away, I however stood on the sidelines feeling grumpy not so much with the rain but with the irritating tourists. I just couldn't help but feel that everyone tries so hard to take these 'perfect' photos that they miss 50% of what is in front of them. It's such a shame!

Still, we are having an absolute blinding time, Vietnam is beautiful. Hoi An has given us so much in such a small amount of time. It has a great beach, amazing restaurants, an old-town of UNESCO status with a river running through it and the cheapest beer I have ever seen. Go, you will not regret it.....

Much love, Tommo xxxxx

The long long road to Hue

For our last day in Hanoi we decided that we needed to again get up as early as we can to make the most of the day (five days of pre-8am starts! It's like being back at work! In a way). After yet another complimentary breakfast of eggs, bananas and baguette we felt suitably nourished to give Hanoi a final check-up before our long journey south to Hue.

Eating out the night before after arriving back from Halong Bay we noticed that in comparison to the previous nights in Hanoi, it felt even more polluted, almost suffocating with the smog that had enveloped the air. Arriving back yesterday the clouds had arrived and just like the night before this day was even more laden with exhaust fumes due to the cloudcover keeping the air thick with filth. As we dodged the traffic yet again as we made our way west, it felt as if you had been trapped inside a garage with the car engine on.

After walking for about half an hour we eventually came across our destination, the Hoi Chi Minh Mausoleum Complex. Just before we hit the complex we stood in awe at a huge statue of Lenin which acted as a gateway to one of the big parks leading to uncle Ho's complex. From there we walked a few hundred metres and came across Uncle Ho's mausoleum. At the moment he is apparently taking a holiday in Russia to have a bit of R&R but the mausoleum itself stands proud as a shining example of stark Socialist architecture. The place was huge, far too big for a supposed Socialist revolutionaries final resting place. Although evidence of rampact and unregulated capitalism is all around you. As we walked back into town Shell 'accidentally' stepped the wrong side of the white line alongside the complex. A uniformed official started blowing his whistle whilst shouting something probably along the lines of 'walk the wrong side of that line again and I will shoot you in the knee caps and feed you tripe Dim Sum'.

From there we visited the Hao Lao prison, which was originally built by the French colonialists to house Viet revolutionaries. It was later used by the Viet Minh (North Vietnamese Communist Party) to house American fighter pilots who had been shot down during the famous war. The prison was, as far as prison visits go, fantastic. It was well kept and gave very specific if not gruesome accounts of the prisoners who had spent time there, some to their death. The prison conditions were appaling and despite the best efforts to portray the treatment of American prisoners of war as being in some kind of Butlins it was the apparent treatment of the Vietnamese by their French masters during the period 1894-1950 which was the most shocking. Several pictures of severed heads as a result of the guilotine on show was shocking enough but the being chained by your legs in complete darkness for months on end without one bit of light is mental torture to the N'th degree. Awful.

After finally getting our lips around fresh Vietnamese rolls in a restaurant reccomended by our hostel we packed up our stuff, hopped in a taxi and rolled up to the train station for our 600km journey south to the central Vietnam city of Hue, a journey that, apparently, would take 14 hours. Good job we had a sleeper cabin. After buying beers from a woman selling items directly outside the train we found out our cabin was directly next to three American guys who were super friendly. After chatting and drinking for a few hours I found out that one of the guys actually works as a border patrol man between the States and Mexico, I was extremely impressed. It's a job I would love to do so I sat there interrogating him for about an hour about his job and the contraversies it creates.

After a bumpy night being jolted up against the cabin wall everytime it stopped at the many stations along the way. And after drinking many beers with the American guys and a crazy, Russian speaking, Vietnamese Ho Chi Minh lookalike (see photo) we both woke up feeling rather grotty but happy to be in Hue, our next stop. After haggling with the local taxi driver yet again for a fee to the hotel, we ended up sharing with a German couple we had also met on the train. Arriving at the hotel we were amazed yet again at the hospitality and warmth shown by the hotel staff who, despite the fact we were paying around £9.50 a night, made every effort to make things easy for us.

After dumping our bags we headed out into the blistering sun and into Hue, a town divided by a large river full to bursting point after the recent Monsoon deluge that has threatened to engulf the entire region. After the chaos of Hanoi it was nice to be in somewhere a little less frenetic and after walking over the bridge we were impressed by the beauty before us. The Citadel stands on this side of the river, a massive complex of ornate tombs, townhouses, pathways and ponds all enclosed behind a metre thick protective wall. It all looked very imperial, slightly different to the Socialist remnents that you can still see in places. However, at the entrance across the road stood quite possibly the biggest, free standing flag and pole I have ever seen. Something the government thought was needed after the ornate feel of the Citadel across the road.

After briefly heading back to the hostel for a beer and a shower we reasearched the best places to eat and found, via Trip Advisor (amazingly accurate, we live by this website) a small family run place called, aptly, 'the family home restaurant, which having only four tables, was just that. It was like eating in someones house. After waiting a while for food we were not to be disspaointed. The food and staff were both incredible. It's the kind of food I have been craving in Vietnam (Shell can testify) and it hit every single spot. Two main meals of the freshest ingredients plus a side of eight fresh spring rolls (not deep fried) and two large beers came to £4! I could, naturally, get very used to this life.

The next morning we were again up early to board a coach to start a day long tour of several tombs, a pagoda, a traditional house and a cone-hat making facility. Despite the risk of 'temple fatigue' or of getting bored, each one was spectacular in it's own right. Each temple had a story and was built for a different emperor, all ruling between 1700-1900. Our tour guide, a small chap wearing a Barcelona shirt was fantastic and who had a great grasp of English. This meant our mulitude of questions which were lost with our guide in Halong Bay, were answered really well. He told us that the first emperor had 500 wives, the second hated woman and was openly gay (he called that one the Ladyboy emperor) and the third contracted Smallpox and couldn't have children so stole one from his brother! Kind of like the three bears, I guess having 500 wives would be 'just right'. Imagine that. 500 wives for you to say, 'yes, that one looks really nice, go for that one'. Maybe not.


On the way back we had spent the last half an hour (via boat this time) talking to a 68 year old Australian who had taken an interest in our trip. He introduced his name as Doug (of course) and that if we were in Australia he had a motor home that we could borrow when we were in Perth! Now I know you have to reserve your initial excitement due to being brought up in a world where conmen are all too real but this guy had no family and currently lives in Bangkok. Anyway after saying our goodbyes we told him where we were eating that night and went on our way, fully expecting to never really see him again. Low and behold after arriving at the restaurent (same place as the previous night) Doug was already sat there waiting for us. Over yet more sublime food he told us his history of his life as a lawyer before he had a breakdown and that he had sold everything and bought a motorhome and spent the last 18 months travelling through Australia. He was now in Thailand and has fallen in love with the place. His offer is completely genuine and has told us we can have it for as long as we like and that he has satellite tv, gps and all mod cons onboard. He has sent Shell photos of it and everything looks ok, in fact it is amazing. Only problem, obviously, is the fact that my appalingly embarrasing fact that I can't drive means that Shell would have to pluck up the courage to drive the six metre van but it is an automatic and I guess we can just plonk it in a couple of places and make the most of free accomodation for a while. Amazing. This trip, well....what can I say.

Halong Bay

After the smog and chaos of Hanoi we were looking forward to some chill out time bobbing around on a boat in Ha long Bay. Having had some well deserved lie ins for the previous few mornings, a half past 6 start was not a welcome thought! We managed it though and made it down for breakfast on time. Soon after, we were told that our bus had arrived and were hurried out of the hostel and onto a coach. Having travelled all of 5 minutes down the road, the tour guide told us that this was not our tour and that we would have to leave his coach and get on another. Turns out that the next bus we got on was not our tour either and that we were being picked up 'as a favour' to the tour company we had actually booked with! He assured us that he would help us to locate our tour when we arrived at the harbour. Not a great start and alarm bells definitely started to ring, wondering whether we would even make it onto a boat. We had 4 hours to wonder as Halong City is 197km away and the bus went at a typically slow speed due to the chaos on the roads. I could never ever drive in this country, there are no lanes, no rules and overtaking happens regardless of whether there is traffic coming or not!

When we arrived at Halong City we joined the crowds of other tourists and made our way through the harbour, following the guide from our bus. True to his word, he helped us to find our tour guide and we joined the rest of our tour group - relief! We then had to follow the shortest Vietnamese man in history through the crowds to a small transfer boat. Just as the worry was starting to disappear, an official harbour master began shouting to the tour guide from the shore asking us to come back. So back we went and a whole array of paperwork was produced by the captain and analysed by the harbour master. We were then asked to move into another transfer boat as the boat we were currently sitting in was apparently not safe to transfer tourists in! Honestly. All we could do was laugh by this point and move our stuff onto another boat. Finally, our boat for the next 3 days came into view and we could relax!

After boarding the boat, we checked into our cabin. Tom was having a nose around the room and came across an axe and a hammer in the bedside cabinet! Not really sure what they were for but luckily we didn't have to use them. Might have been handy in an argument though!! We sat down for the first of our meals on the boat and met the people we would be sharing it with - it was a really international group Israeli, Czech, Swiss, Canadian, American, Korean, French and Australian. Interesting!!

Having munched down some amazing seafood, we boarded a smaller boat to take us to the 'Cave of Surprise'. I'm still not really sure what the 'surprise' was. The cave was pretty impressive to walk around. Perhaps the surprise was our slightly insane tour guide pointing out rock formations that he thought looked like Lady GaGa - seriously! Having taken in the awesome views of the bay from the cave, we made our way back to the boat and headed off to kayak around the bay. WOW! It's been a while since I've been in a kayak so luckily we were given a joint kayak (Tom wasn't happy because he wanted his own and he was really unhappy when he was asked to sit at the back!) To be honest, we made a pretty good team and steamed around the karsts and floated through tiny caves - amazing! We rejoined the main boat as the sun set. Some of the guys decided to jump from the top deck of the boat into the sea. I took the safer role and videoed them - it was really high, there was no chance of me jumping!

Before dinner, we joined our tour guide on the top deck for a quick cooking class - making spring rolls. We both had a go at rolling and frying the spring rolls and I think we did a pretty good job - they tasted amazing anyway! Afterwards, we had a go at squid fishing. We joined a group of Americans, who had been on the boat the previous day, at the back of the boat. We all sat patiently, dangling our rods over the side, whilst chatting and drinking cans of the coldest beer. We had a great night but sadly caught nothing apart from a Joker playing card!

The following day, we were up early again and set off for a days activities with a local tour guide. He was an interesting guy with really yellow teeth and could barely speak a word of English. Helpful, when he was our guide for the day and supposed to be explaining the different sights we were to be seeing throughout the day. I don't know who was more frustrated by this, us or the Czech couple that were relying on us to translate what the guide was saying for them to understand. Needless to say, we had an interesting day, with Tom becoming increasingly irritated that the many questions he was asking the guide would remain unanswered as the poor guy had no idea what he was saying - brilliant! Despite this, we had a really good day! We visited a pearl farm (where Tom ate the oyster after they had removed the pearl!), a floating village (God only knows how families live in houses bobbing around on the water - there was even a floating school!) and a beautiful secluded sandy beach. Travelling between these places, we had plenty of time to sunbathe on the deck and kayak through some tiny caves to amazing hidden lakes. One cave was so small that we had to lie down in the kayak and push our way through with our hands! Tom finished the day again by hurling himself off the boat and into the water for a swim. Still not feeling brave enough, I took the steps!

After another fantastic seafood dinner, we headed to the back of the boat with fishing rods, determined to catch some squid. A guy from Korea decided to join us and even brought some bait along in the hope that we might catch something. After a good few hours, my patience ran out and I gave up! The others were not far behind. I'm still not convinced that anyone has ever caught any squid from that boat despite the guide telling us that 'lots of tourists do' - rubbish!

The boat headed back to the harbour the following day. We had one final chance to sunbathe on the deck and take in the sights of the bay. It's such a beautiful place, you must go if you ever have the chance. We caught the bus back to Hanoi and have one final night here before we head further south down the coast. We've booked ourselves onto another sleeper train to take us to a place called Hue - 14 hours of high class luxury here we come - haha! Vietnam has been amazing so far, can't wait to see what it has in store for us next!

Lots of love,

Shell xxxxx

Could those leaving China please form an orderly queue...

After two nearly three weeks in the Peoples Republic of China it was now time to leave this sacred land and head south and into, excitedly, The Socialist Republic of Vietnam. After spending the day in Nanning finding it increasingly difficult, we headed towards the train station and to the open arms of the Chinese sleeper train that would take us on the long track south. Getting there a good hour before the train was due to leave we thought, naively or not, that we would have bags of time to fill before boarding the train. Time that could be spent hunting for food (or what closely resembles it in Nanning)and letting Shell make her tenth stop to the toilet. In reality, after maybe 10 minutes of waiting, the entrance was inundated with literally thousands of Chinese tourists, all being led by very loud, shouty tour guides who waved certain flags to keep the hoards under control. Well if you can imagine say, a bag full of corks trying to fit through a 2 inch gap, then that would probably do it justice. Now I know that us as Brits are mildy obsessed with forming queues but you would have thought that even the smallest piece of human instinct would be to STOP PUSHING, alas, here in southern China, certainly not. After maybe twenty minuntes of pushing with our big rucksacks and LOTS of angry swearing on our part we managed to literally jump through the gate and handed our bags in to be X-rayed. It was at this point, with Shell a few people behind me, that she would be electricuted by a metal fence as she picked up her bag. Stopping in pain, she was then shouted at by a few iritating little Chinese tourists for daring to pick her bag up before theirs. Shell started crying. Bless her.

Wiping away the tears, we realised that due to the mass hysteria of the Chinese populace on the move, we were now only five minutes away from the train leaving. Dashing around like the Chuckle Brothers searching for ladders we accosted an official, stuffed our tickets in his face and demanded to be led the way. Amazingly, he calmly pointed us in the right direction where we ran like the wind and threw our belongings onboard. Having booked 'hard sleeper' we did initially, fear the worst. Maybe a few stray chickens and smell of feet, in reality we got a very quiet, if not very open, carriage. With three bunks in each small compartment we wondered who would be climbing above us but the train was pretty quiet so after playing cards for a while we decided to try and get some sleep before we hit the Vietnamese border. Before that an old woman, dressed in an all in one red tracksuit (think Soviet olympian circa 1984) introduced herself to us but said she only spoke Russian and German, before we could respond- she was off, off into her own world of Communist bunnies.

At about midnight the train abrubtly stopped and on came a very serious looking Chinese immigration official who extremely slowly, no no, painfully slowly, started to take each and everybody's passport one by one. After spending nearly an hour checking every piece of information he returned and repeated the same slow process, checking then double checking each and every photo to our faces. Once he had left and we were on our way we stopped once more and repeated the process just outside the Vietnamese border. This time we were told to get off and wait in a 'holding area' with the walls adorned with Socialist portraits and insignia of their National hero and saviour, Ho Chi Minh. After waiting for a while again we were told to stand up and collect our passports as they shouted. As the scary Vietnamese offcial angrily shouted 'THOMAS!' I could of sworn I was back in Primary school with Mr Reynolds.

An hour later at about 5am we pulled up in the pitch black at a station just outside of Hanoi where a taxi driver would not leave us alone. As we were tired and it was dark in a strange country we went with him, even though deep down we knew he would try to screw us over. In the end he did, only by about a dollar but it could of been worse. After being kindly let in at 5.30am to the hostel and offered a bed early we slept for an hour or so and then hopped back out into Hanoi to explore the city.

After dodging the famous and completely mental traffic of the old quarter we navigated our way down to Ho Kiem Lake, which basically acts as the centre piece of the city centre. Being an extremely characterful city full of French colonial architecture we took an instant liking to the place after the hyper-mordernisation of China. Walking down the narrow streets, smelling wafts of freshly baked baguettes and then turning to be met by a cathedral, you could have been in Paris. Although the choking smog and high humidity definitely suggested otherwise!

The big difference we decided, compared to exploring China, was the smell. Upon walking through the Chinese streets we were constantly met by a very strange smell but we could never figure out what it was. We knew it was coming from the food stalls and restaurants but couldn't quite place what it came from. It was a hideous smell. Thankfully the only thing you can smell here is the vast array of women cooking noodle soup on the pavements. Something which come 8pm turns the entire city centre into one big seated eating area. No space is wasted as people of all ages sit down to eat Pho Bo (chicken noodle soup), Goi cuon (freshly packed spring roll filled with pork, shrimp, herbs, rice noodles and fresh greens) and a multitude of other dishes. Everything looks fresh and smells amazing. A real foodies heaven.

The next day we booked our Ha long bay trip through our hostel, who have been incredibly helpful. I keep telling them they are amazing and they keep responding with a smile by telling me it's thier job. You have to love that. Apparently Monday is Vietnam's 'day of rest' so we explored the streets for the whole day, stopping for noodle soup and 40p Ba Ha Noi beers, the local tasty brew, we explored everywhere, increasing our confidence of crossing the roads as we went. I know we've written about it before but crossing the roads here takes skills that cannot be learnt anywhere other than through experience. It is, without any exaggeration at all, absolutely mental. We have also never been to a place with so many bookshops, which I think says evrything you need to know about he people that live here.

That night we bought tickets for the best and most famous show in town, the Water Puppet Show. Now I know my words will not do it justice in any way but we sat for an hour and watched, in amazement, an array of puppets prance through water, playing out different historial scenes to the backing of an orchestra. Check the photos and the video, it will hopefully do it justice.

After 'forgetting' to eat for a good number of hours we were both approaching cranky territory so decided to quick march it to get food. As we sat down on stools no higher than six inches we were provided with a plate full of fresh beef, herbs and vegetables and a hot plate. After looking at each other I got started to feed my craving of cooking once again, it's been a while! Finishing up after a few too many beers we decided that we would head back to the hostel for our 5am start tommorrow morning, thick heads indeed!

Much love, Tommo xxxxx

Yangshuo to Nanning

After a last day in Yangshuo spent dodging the ever-increasing rain we were both ready for our next stop. After purchasing tickets the day before for a bus to Nanning (via translation help from our hostel), we bumped into our friend, Lukas, from the previous hostel in Guilin. Being Swiss he had a slightly odd demeanour but we spent a good three hours with him talking about our trips and lots and lots of football over coffee. He was here for a couple of months and then was off to Africa, Senegal and Guinea-Bissau no less. Finishing our coffee's we decided to take a walk to the local market, which was supposed to be quite a sight. Amongst the giant cucumbers and numerous butchered dog carcasses you really got the sense that even in the tourist bubble that is Yangshuo, you can be slapped right back to reality within a few hundred metres. After getting incredibly wet walking back up towards our hostel he decided that he was going for a swim in the river so we left him at that point, exchanged email addresses, said our farewells and promised that we would try and meet up if we were in Vietnam at the same time.

After another lazy evening watching films and eating beer duck, very tasty!, we packed our bags once again in preperation to move on after five days in Yangshuo. It would have been less, in fact we would have moved on a couple of days ago, but we found out that the hostel could organise Vietnamese Visa's but that it would take a few days to be delivered. It was either that or go directly to Nanning and wait three days there for the same service. We plumped for Yangshuo.

Waking the next morning we said our goodbyes, left them our blog address and took a taxi to the station. Once on the bus we panicked initially at the thought of an eight hour bus journey stuck in a space no bigger than an open lunchbox and badly dubbed Arnie movies on constant loop but we just got our heads down and got on with it and before you know it we were pulling into Nanning.

After being given directions from the hostel via email we made our way by bus down an etraordinarily straight road through a city of mega proportions. To all intents and purposes Nanning has about as much national gravitation as that of say, Leicester, but to step into it you could be in one of the worlds's biggest metropolis'. With a population of about 3.5 million it is definitely the biggest city in the region but as far as China as a country goes, you get the feeling that it is small-fry. Not that you sense that as you carried on for nineteen stops through almost constant sky-scrapers. As we said in earlier blogs, outside of maybe Shanghai and Beijing, other Chinese cities are virtually unheard of, but this city is massive.

After finding our way to the hostel with relative ease we headed straight back out again with a piece of paper written by the hostel lady to buy tickets to Hanoi at the train station. After arriving at the ticket desks we were confronted by constant hoards of Chinese all pushing, all trying to be the first one to buy tickets. We opted for the smallest queue, unfortunately the one that had the really dodgy blokes selling counterfeit tickets. It also, after waiting 20 mins for someone to appear, meant that we were in prime position to be stared at once again. Anyway, we got our tickets, in 'hard-sleeper' for the 11 hour train journey south to Hanoi. After arguing at the ticket booth amongst ourselves as to whether to get hard or soft sleeper I hope we come out unscathed tomorrow morning as we slip into the madness of Hanoi! From there we went in search of food as both our moods had now dissipated into evil. On the way we stumbled upon a park filled with people of all ages all taking part in what can only be described as line dancing, but without the achy-breaky Country and Western. Instead it was replaced with cheesy, high tempo dance music. Maybe you had to be there to really take it in, but it was one of the most surreal things we have witnessed yet.

Waking the next morning, after a night spent in our first dormitory (only one other person) we decided to head out and at least give Nanning a go before our sleeper train that evening. After only ten minutes we both felt drained. In a way Nanning is one of those cities that just feels suffocating. Whichever way you look, a million bodies seem to stand before you and the exits. On a hot day like today, patience seems to tumble away in a haze of xenophobia only to be seduced again at the sight of another awe-inspiring building. It's just, after two weeks of being stared at, it just feels a little unsettling. In a way, despite heading further south, the look of suspicion just gets worse. You'd have thought that the multitude of McDonald's and KFC's would have brought with it a new global outlook, recognising a world outside of China, not here. Here the looks are no longer that of wonder that we may have had in Guilin but one of deep mistrust, like you are about to steal their dog, which they were going to eat. In one supermarket, after heading in the wrong entrance and holding a half empty bottle of water (how dare we), we were told in no uncertain terms to report to the local police station and present our papers. Or at least that's how it felt. Being escorted out of their premises for entering the wrong way is something, I think, we will just have to live with. It's strange, it's like behind every stare is a disbelief that you, the foreigner, have set foot in their city. What inexplicabe reason could there be for you to be here, with your stupid headband and swollen rucksacks, here in our Leicester...

We haven mixed feelings as we prepare to leave China. On one hand we are pleased to be leaving a land with soooo much happening. Entire cities being built, construction work everywhere and people so unbelievably dominated by money that feelings and common sense seem to be left completely behind. On the other, we have got used to this absolutely huge and diverse country and their constant energy. I guess things won't drastically change as we move to 'Nam but we are definitely excited about our next chapter. Let's see if 'Hard sleeper' is what it says it is...........

Tommo xxxxxx

A place you could call home...

Day three of our time in Yangshuo and I can safely say that this is the most 'at home' I have felt yet of any places that we have visited. As Shell said before, the place we have found to stay in is extraordinarily good. For around £16 per night we are down river somewhat from the main town but are placed in the most idylic and tranquil surroundings. Winding round the Li River out of town, you take a left turn up a small road and there you are, amongst the farmers and Karst Peaks, our home for the next few nights, the Yangshuo Village Retreat. It's actually owned and run by a really friendly Belgian guy who goes by the name of Tripper, who after several conversations travelled for a year, much like us, but never went home. Deciding that the area that in which the hotel stands would make a great base for a hotel, he was not wrong. Although built by the Chinese, who can't seem to grasp the idea of building things properly, it has the look and feel of a Southern French hideaway. It is also incredibly peaceful and have been made to feel like family, being spoken to on first name terms since we got here that I think, come Friday, will feel incredibly difficult to leave. In a way, Yangshuo is probably the least 'Chinese' of the places we have visited, it definitly fits the bill of the 'backpacker' stereotype, lot's of Western food and I guess, 'dumbed down' versions of the Chinese staples but you know what, I love it. It's lively, but not full of teenagers all wanting to get wasted, it's peaceful but not boring and it is also astonishingly beautiful, something which makes you want to linger, I guess this is the reason Tripper and the other guys who run this hostel have stayed, you cannot for one minute blame them.

Anyway, we woke after the previous day's exploits getting to grips with the Chinese roads and it's incessant traffic and decided we wanted more! After paying the 60 yuan to hire the bikes once more we set out on our way and out of the town and onto the open-ish roads. We had spied on the maps a route that would take us slightly off the beaten track, beside the Yulong river and out towards the Yulong Bridge, our destination, we hoped. Minutes later we bumped into a couple on a tandem, inexplicably they said we looked liked we knew where we were going so they would follow, it's probably a good thing that after ten minutes we had left them behind....

If yesterday's heat had seemed too much cycling the 15 or so miles, today would be unbearable. With this in mind, after maybe constant cycling for about 40 minutes we had, unwittingly, left all forms of concreted road. Also, we had started to divert away from the river in a direction that, and I think we both knew but dared not bring up with each other, was taking us completely the wrong way. Just to add insult to injury, just at the hottest point of the day, we hit a big hill. Now Shell, bless her, did not look happy. Knowing that I was going to be in the doghouse, for some reason or another, I peddled on and waited over the brow of the hill in the hope that our destination, or even something resembling civilisation would spring instantaneously around the corner. It didn't come. After another twenty minutes or so we stumbled upon a very big main road where, quite surprisingly, two old girls in conical hats started shouting 'Yulong'!! and pointing to our left up the main road. After riding down the road for a while we came to a busy-ish town and eventually, somehow, found our way to the bridge. After batting back yet more hawkers , we started talking to a couple from Hawaii who were swimming in the river beside the bridge, it looked glorious. Fortunately I had worn my swimshorts that day so undressed quickly and, kind of, jumped in. It was fantastic. We then noticed a couple of people sizing the bridge up, to jump in to the river. After being assured that it was deep enough (close your eyes mum), I plucked up the courage, got Shell to film and jumped for my life. It was a long way down. All I could think of though, was when will you ever get the chance to jump off of a 600 year-old Chinese bridge again on a hot day!

Using the river as a guide we managed to cycle the way back in relatively uneventful circumstances apart from one wrong move where we nearly ended up in someones garage after following what we thought was the right track. After passing numerous villages and towns folk all working together (Socialism in harmony) we meandered our way back to Yangshuo where we stopped for drinks and to dodge the rain, which actually made for a refreshing change to the extreme heat and humidity we had felt earlier on.
That night we ate, yet again, in the hotel restaurant as it is fantastic and never dissapoints. After riding 15 miles the previous day and around 25 today we hit the sack early and decided, quite rightly, that tommorrow we would do nothing. Arhhhh, sweet nothing....

Just another day here where we will wait in anticipation to see whether our Vietnamese visa's arrive in time and then we shall try and catch a bus south to Nanning. If we had known, and had not ordered our Visa's, we would've spent more time and visited many more places in this amazing country.
Much love, Tommo xxxx

Adventures along the Li River.......

After a pretty relaxing few days in Guilin, we decided to travel further south to the travellers Mecca that is Yangshuo. What mode of transport to take.....bus, train, taxi? Why be conventional when you can travel by bamboo raft along the Li River! We were assured that our rucksacks would be no problem and would fit onto the raft too. I'll admit I wasn't convinced and was pretty sure that something dodgy was going on as it all seemed too good to be true. Tom however, was entirely trusting and convinced that everything would be ok. I was most definitely proved wrong! (I hate it when Tom is right!!) A crazy Chinese guy called Harry picked us up exactly on time and drove us and a bus load of other tourists to Yandi town. On the way, we were all given panda stickers to represent the group that we were in for the day in case we should get lost. The lack of enthusiasm from the older members of the group was hilarious and I don't think they even wore their stickers - tut tut! When we arrived, the rafts (which were not made out of bamboo but huge plastic tubes with a wooden base) were all lined up along the river so we clambered aboard with our bags and made ourselves comfortable. We shared a raft with a couple from Sheffield weirdly enough! Tom made friends with the guy as he thought he looked just like his Dad (see the photo on the blog Dave!) The ride on the raft was beautiful and so picturesque! The limestone karsts rose to either side of the river in particular formations that our guide told us to look out for on our way. Apparently the most famous looks like 'Hello Kitty' but sadly we didn't see this one. We arrived at a small harbour called Xingping a few hours later. After the calm that was our bamboo ride, we were greeted by the chaos of small golf style buggies with loud shouting drivers, waiting to drive us to the local bus station. We were crammed into a small buggy with bags on our laps and driven along narrow dusty lanes to the 'bus station'. The collection of buses waiting for us were tiny and yet again, we were all crammed in bags and all. So much so that they brought out small plastic stools to put down the aisle of the bus for people to sit on when the seats were full. Lucky Tom found himself on one of these for the next 45 minutes to Yangshuo!

Finally, we arrived at Yangshuo bus station and we made our way to our hostel for the next three days. After dumping our bags in our amazing room, with mountain views and floor to ceiling windows, we headed down to the restaurant to check out the food. We ordered way too much, typical eyes bigger than bellies syndrome but the food was delicious! The sizzling beef, vegetable noodles and curried potatoes were amazing all washed down with a local beer for 80p and we went to bed happy (sad that we are so easily pleased but hey?!)

Feeling adventurous the following day we hired some bikes from the hostel and set off to explore, map in hand. Yangshuo is well known for its spectacular scenery and we were definitely not disappointed. Our only obstacle - the crazy Chinese roads! Having not been on bikes for a while, we had to quickly get used to riding on the opposite side of the road, dodge the silent but deadly electric motorbikes that creep up on you out of nowhere and the cyclists riding straight towards you on the wrong side of the road. Not to mention the cars, buses and coaches beeping constantly as they swerve around you and each other. There seriously are no rules here at all! Out in the countryside though it was a different story and we were able to enjoy the scenery and even take a video or two as we rode along, wobbly but fun. We passed through numerous tiny villages and passed many confused locals who shouted 'hello' as we rode on by. Then we came to some farm land and stopped to watch and photograph the water buffalo splashing around. Suddenly, out of nowhere, a woman appeared demanding money from us for taking a picture of HER buffalo! We couldn't believe what we were hearing and had to pretty much empty our rucksack in front of her to prove that we had no money to give. She wasn't happy and was muttering to herself as we rode off, cheeky devil!

When we reached the hostel later that afternoon I can honestly say that I thought I was going to die! Riding around in the 30 degree heat was tough going and possibly the most excercise my poor body has had for a while. We had really enjoyed it though and booked the bikes again for the following day as we locked them away for the evening. After a well deserved shower, we ate again at the hostel restaurant, fulfilling our craving for pasta but sadly not the wine we've been craving for the past few weeks now. A cheap glass of wine here costs about £26, so we will be waiting a while before we get any wine I think!

Love Shell xxxxx

Night bus to Guilin...

So the day finally arrived when we would have to cross the border and make our way into the unknown void which would be mainland China. After spending a good hour standing all the way to Lo Wu, the last stop on the MTR network within Hong Kong before getting to Shenzhen, our minds started to race at the prospect of our next adventure.

After a relatively short and unintrusive Customs and immigration process we proceeded out of the labarynth of walkways and into the smog-filled train station of downtown Shenzhen. After briefly checking out where it was we had to catch the bus from later that evening, we immediately noticed just how very different things were than in Hong Kong. Even though in geographical terms we were only a few metres away from Hong Kong, culturally we could have been on another planet. For sure Hong Kong shared big similarities, even more so after the past few years of Chinese dominance, but it was the fact that we now entered somewhere where as we sat whiling away the hours we were stared at by everyone. Not only that but people would try, even though it was blatantly obvious, to slyly take photos with you in the picture. We now know how it feels to be famous. At first a novelty, after eight hours of waiting for a bus in Shenzhen, it became draining. Sat under the dank, urine scented and smog-filled afternoon sky, Bali felt a million miles away. We even had lunch that nearly rivalled the horrific bowl of gruel that we had on Gili T. After ordering something off of the menu (no English translation this time) we ended up with greasy broth soup filled with grissly pork wonton and a round of Dim Sum that, and we are both in agreement here, were filled with tripe. Mmmmm.

After a long day in Shenzhen, our bus finally docked at the perenially urine-smelly bus station, to whisk us off into the night on our bunk-bed filled bus of dreams. To be fair to them they were excellent. The blessing came with the fact that we were the first ones on, which meant that three rows of bunks for the other passengers paled into insignificance as the guy made the bottom three bunks at the back one complete bed for the two of us. As we lay there looking out of the window at the endless city scapes I couldn't help but think how we had travelled for around three hours at that point, a journey from say, London to Manchester, and the whole of that three hours was spent driving at speed through Hong Kong city like skylines. Passing through Shenzhen and Guangzhou, you really started to understand the sheer magnitude of this country. With both populations exceeding that of London and Paris, it is amazing to think that outside that of maybe, travelling businessmen, very few people have even heard of Shenzhen and to a lesser extent Guangzhou, staggering.

Anyway, onwards we went, slipping in and out of sleep but feeling appalingly indulged at such a luxorious ride, even when local Chinese passengers got on, tutted loudly at our scene of Roman luxury and hopped up onto their mobile pig troughs to be tied in for 12 hours, 1-0 us. After a great, allbeit bumpy journey, we arrived safely in Guilin, not completely lacking sleep but feeling mildly disorientated to be met by panic that we had forgot to scribble down any directions to the hostel. In any other place that scenario would be fine but we had just travelled 800 miles into the Chinese hinterland and finding a native who could speak English was proving impossible. It's not as if you could scribble something down that you could concoct out of a phrasebook, no, this would mean mild panic and somekind of plan. After an hour and a half of roaming the streets at 7am in the rain, dodging the traffic and muttering quietly to ourselves like a frenzied Rain Man, we managed to switch Shells ancient phone on, somehow get on the internet to a retrieve the phone number the hostel had sent us and ring them. After startling them with our early troubles they managed to talk to one of the taxi drivers, via Shell's phone, who thought he had just, unwittingly, landed the part in a silly Western wind-up show. If only.
After settling in the hostel, dodging the tuts and unwanted looks from an old American couple (why??) and spending the day catching up with lost food time and planning our assault on Vietnam, we got talking to a great couple called Derek and Yulia. After our time on Bali and then in the bat-cave in Hong Kong, it was great, finally to stay in a place with the opportunity to get to know some more travellers. After spending the whole night with the two of them I think we all realised that we have alot in common and have planned to meet up sometime in the not so distant future in Cambodia or Vietnam. Really good guys.

Waking the next morning and feeling rejuvanated both by a good night's sleep and better weather, we decided to head out after a good breakfast to something called the Reed Flute Cave. After paying the relatively expensive entrance fee of around a tenner each we entered the caves to be met by a spectacular array if stalagmites and stalagtites with every impressive rock formation lit up with lights, all of different colours. A large group of Chinese tourists in front of us had their obligatory tour guide so we took our time, hanging back to make the most of the entrance fee. After a while it dauned on us that as the tour group passed through they were switching off the lights, leaving us in thier darkened wake!
At the exit we had our taXi driver waiting for us, we could have caught two busses but the driver was only 20 yuan for the day (£2) so we thought it would be more comfortablke do it that way. From there we headed for Solitary Peak, one of thousands of limestone carsts that pop out of the ground (or have failed to be eroded like the land around them?, who knows?), but this one was in the middle of the city. Guilin is much smaller than some of the main big cities such Beijing or Guangzhou, in fact it is classed as no more than a large town, yet it's population exceeds that of Birmingham with around a million people! With this in mInd, when we climbed to the top of this extrenmely steep peak we were met with a great view of the city and the impressive Li River, which acts as it's main artery. In addition, after a week of mist, murk and rain, the sun had made a good appearence too, all adding to the impressive sight before us.

Upon leaving, we had to navigate the big distance back to our hostel, on the edge of town. Walking through the throngs of Chinese holidaymakers we finally made our way into the central, pedestrianised area to be met, all of a sudden, out of nowehere, by a small Chinese man who spoke perfect English. He said we was a lecturer at the local university and that he would like us to try some tea in his cousin's shop. After trying some amazing teas, some from the local Esmanthus tree, he then proceeded to walk us round to the local booking office as we had indicated that we were thinking of taking the Li river 'bamboo' cruise' at some point over the next two days. He said he would get us cheap tickets. Being typically cautious Shell was very wary about this man but I thought he was legit, even though he did try to push a couple of things our way to try and buy along the way. To be honest, it seems the Chinese way. Completely and unashamedly dominated by money.

Anyway, after not really eating that day and having already blowing all budgets on extortinate entrance fees we found a woman selling baked sweet potatoes so paid her a pound for a giant one, which we munched down, skin and all, to the horrified look of passers-by. We also, for the very first time really, had to contend with the no-holds-barred traffic rules of mainland China. It is chaos. I think we have put a video up there to show you all but traffic goes anywhere at anytime and is never stopped by the green man! In fact this just seems to be a signal to try even harder to squeeze through gaps of people! After a couple of days experience we started to treat it like walking passed a lion, walk calmly and slowly, never show any fear and never run away.

Back at the hostel that night we were booked in for the BBQ that they provide every Friday night. Waiting for it to start, we were then told that is was actually just to the two of us that had signed up for it! They said they would go ahead and cook it, I think they all wanted to cook and get drunk to be honest, but in the end we managed to recruit some Swedish guys, who although veggies, seemed up for the idea of lots of veg and well, free beer! We were then joined by a weird Swiss guy who I kept asking whether he was obssesed with the cheese or the time the most? We sat there all night, being joined by people from all over the world. At the end of the night we were joined by a massive Dutch guy who shared out some biscuits he had bought from Macau. We all sat there trying not to laugh as every ounce of saliva was drawn from our mouth, absolutely disgusting, he definitely knew about it...

The next morning we rose late, decided that today we would try and do very little as both felt extremely tired. I'm not going to sit here and moan about being tired whilst you folk are all working incredibly hard (most) but after many days of being constantly on the go, it does get quite tiresome this travelling lark. So despite a long walk into the city, dodging the traffic, smell of cooked dog (more another time) and constant stares we had a day of chilling in the hostel and putting our now vast array of photos onto Flickr.

Much love, Tommo xxxx

Hong Kong continued...

After the excitement of the market the previous evening, we woke to the dawn chorus of chainsaws, banging and shouting coming through the air vents into our tiny tiled box - wonderful! So we quickly headed off to the local bakery to get our breakfast fix for the day. The bakeries are amazing here, seriously I have never seen anything like it! You can get any sort of bread, rolls, cakes filled with weird and wonderful concoctions for a matter of pence. The croissants here are also amazing and I've definitely had my fair share of those since we've been here. The bakery has been Tom's best friend during our stay here and he has spent AGES deciding what to have each day (and he tells me that I'm indecisive!!)

We jumped on the MTR and headed for a place called Sha Tin, where we could visit the 10,000 Buddha Monastery. Sitting on the train minding our own business, a group of business students from one of the local graduate schools became very interested in us! It turns out they were taking part in a team building day challenge and had to reach an isolated rural area near Sha Tin using as little money as possible. Two of the students had lived in England, one had even studied at Southampton Business School and wanted to return there for a holiday! Anyway, they tried to sell us most of there posessions to raise some money for their team. We had 10 dollars in change so gave them that and allowed them to keep the multitude of umbrellas that they were trying to give us in return - crazy! We all got off the train at Sha Tin station, having posed for a picture and taken part in their team chanting session we left them planning their next move.

Following my hastily written directions, we made our way to the well hidden entrance of the Monastery. Out of nowhere appeared a steep and winding path flanked on either side by amazing (and sometimes a bit weird looking) gold statues. They followed the path the entire way up to the top and we made the most of taking some pictures for the blog. When we reached the top, the Monastery itself was beautiful and well worth the climb up. Inside is a room filled, on every inch of wall space, with Buddhas (hence the name!) You weren't allowed to take pictures but I honestly don't think it would've done it justice. Outside, there was a typical Chinese pagoda and many more brightly coloured figures and statues, which was a stark contrast to the grey drizzly day. We spent ages snapping away with our cameras (camera wars has officially begun!) and taking in the view before making our way back down the many steps to the bottom. We passed many elderly ladies making the climb up (they must have been about 80) without breaking a sweat. Not bad going!

After an uneventful MTR journey back to Kowloon, we wandered around the University area in search of a cheap place to eat lunch. We came across a noodles and dumplings cafe and were greeted by the loudest Chinese woman ever, who shouted at us to come in and try the best dumplings around. We didn't want to argue! We followed her in and the shouting continued whilst she pointed to different items on the menu. To be fair, it did all look really good but all the shouting, seriously! Evenutally,we ordered pork and vegetable dumplings (chefs specialty!) and vegetable noodles and it was delicious. All the shouting had been worth it after all! With full bellies, we strolled around the harbour area and along the Avenue of Stars, which was full of mental Chinese tourists taking as many pictures as they possibly could of anything and everything along the walkway! Why?! Saying that, we have taken our fair share of photographs so perhaps I'm being slightly mean. After a Skype session home to my Dad and sister, we had our first 'night in' since we've been away. We watched a film a caught up with uploading photos and blogging. All accompianied by some very tasty Chinese style pot noodles and 60p a can Carlsbergs - cheap and a well deserved rest!

For our last full day in Hong Kong, we headed for the 'Giant Buddha' on Lantau Island, one of the last attractions yet to see on Hong Kong's Top 10 list. It was another grey day (so not scorching like when you went Claire!) but luckily the cable car was still running to take you up to the Po Lin Monastery and the Buddha. We queued for a good hour or so before reaching the cable cars and it was one of those really annoying queues that snakes around so when you think you're almost there you turn around and walk in the opposite direction (never again will we come to China during their National holiday - too many queues!) We were eventually crammed into a cable car and posed for the obligitory Kodak photo before starting the 25 minute journey to the top. The cable car runs for 5km and takes you high up into the mountains on Lantau Island - it was well worth the queue for the views here alone, let alone what waited for us at the top!

Once past the gift shops, we climbed with many other tourists and Chinese alike to the base of the Buddha. It was huge and amazingly impressive to look at, despite the sea of multicoloured brollies in the way of our pictures - damn the rain! Then we headed down towards the Monastery, being drawn in by the sound of monks chanting. We made our way through waves of incense and found ourselves surrounded by huge golden shrines to Buddha. I got snap happy and Tom sat himself down and lost himself in the chanting and incense! Then we joined the masses and bought some incense sticks to light and add to the hot pots. We split the pack and set about lighting them. When mine were lit I looked up to see Tom holding a mass of burning sticks asking if they were supposed to look like that. The answer was very much no - he had lit the wrong end and was just burning wood not incense! Thankfully we were able to blow them out and light the correct side before adding them to the huge piles of smoking sticks.

For our last evening in Hong Kong, we headed back to Temple Street Market to properly sample the food and atmosphere. We picked the busiest looking place and sat ourselves down on one of the many tables on the street. It took forever to be served but we were rewarded with huge bottles of Yanjing beer and the spiciest singapore noodles and beef dish ever. My mouth was officially on fire by the time we finished! We've officially mastered the use of chopsticks and their tiny bowls though which I'm pretty impressed by!

All in all, we've had a fantastic time in Hong Kong and I'm actually sad to leave, even our tiny box room. We've the pleasure of crossing the Hong Kong - China border tomorrow and then we will be officially surrounded by people that speak no English at all. Scary but exciting, let's see what happens!

Lots of love, Shell xxx

Sumpi jumpa Bali, Néih hóu Hong Kong!

So after a hop, skip and a jump across to Singapore for a night of bunk-bed loveliness, we landed safely in the hustle, bustle and and downright craziness of downtown Kowloon. The stereotypes were well and truly answered right from the get-go with ultra-modern technology and short-sharp answers from all manner of people that kept everything completely to the point. We'd already booked our accommodation over the internet for Hong Kong a couple of months ago and although we were warned about the size of Hong Kong hotel rooms, nothing, I mean absolutely nothing could have prepared us for the size of our room. Sometimes people can exaggerate by exclaiming they could touch the walls with both hands, well I could...with ease. Not only that but they are windowless, which kind of gives you the impression you are living in a rather large tiled wardrobe. But, you know what, I really like it. Much like anything we've experienced in Hong Kong over the past two and a half days, it takes a bit of getting used to but once you adapt to your surroundings, it is seriously impressive. The room is ultra clean, has a powerful shower, a flatscreen tv on the wall and air con. Not bad for the location, which really is in the centre of all the action.

After pretty much a full day of flying, waiting in and transiting to and from airports we pretty much went straight to sleep on our first night but not before we got our first taste of Chungking Mansions, the building that houses our guesthouse. Not knowing the history behind this block was probably a little bit of a godsend as I think if we knew, Shell would have never even thought about stepping in through the 'lobby' downstairs. In essence, the block is huge and is placed at the bottom of Nathan Road (the main thoroughfare) and has a history of complete depravity, unclaimed dead bodies, triad controlled and extortion are just some of the things it has been famous for in the past but it has now, apparently, cleaned up its act. To walk through it to find your elevator is a challenge in itself. As me and Shell bombarded our way through the throngs of African and Asian groups of men we got our first taste of the welcome as a grubby bloke with a mask told me to' fuck off' whilst waving the jacks. I said hello and moved swiftly on...

Our first full day was spent in awe looking at the throngs of people all gathered in Hong Kong for Chinese National Day.It was just our luck that the whole time we have in Hong Kong will coincide with Chinese National Day, which is what it is called. In reality, China National Day actually extends for seven days, being that any travel anywhere is seriously doubtful, so we have booked an extra day! Not the worst place to have to spend an extra day!

Despite the crowds, our first day was spent climbing the outside elevator, that elevates you all the way up through Hong Kong Island, across the water from Kowloon. It is another exceptional feat of engineering (and indulgence) that Hong Kong commuters, and tourists, get to ride an elevator non-stop for a mile through some of the most impressive skyscrapers in the world. You can get off at any point but we decided to go to the top and then walk down to the Peak Tram terminus, to take us to the top of the hills to take in that most-famous of views from the top of the city skyline. When we got there, the queues were massive, snaking back upon itself and up the road. We decided, quite foolishly really, to return tomorrow. In the meantime we got our first taste of Dim Sum, the famous Hong Kong filled dumplings. They were astonishingly beautiful. We opted for the steamed pork variety. We would have more!

From there we took a tram into Causeway Bay, got off, spent five minutes feeling bewildered and bemused at the sea of people (sea does not do it justice) all buying stuff. Everyone in Hong Kong spends their time buying stuff, millions of them. Once back on the meticulous MTR, we got off at Tsim Sha Tsui, our local stop and headed back to our room to calm down before the onslaught of the nights light show and National Day firework celebration. To call it a firework 'display' has got to be one of the most criminal understatements you are ever likely to come across. True to form, for the pathologically patriotic Chinese, the fireworks were as if the world were ending. Basically every firework was in comparison to that last big one they save for the end on Bonfire Night. Despite the hoards of people and lack of chivalry, something which is hard to get used to, we had a blast, literally, and headed back to our room with noodles in hand to get over the days exploits.

The next day we woke early in readiness for a full day exploring Hong Kong Island, the opposite side to Kowloon and home to the Gotham City-esque skyline. As our rooms are windowless we had no idea of the weather and as we got outside we were punished with solid wind and rain. After three weeks of almost constant sunshine it comes as a bit of a shock but it's still 29 degrees! To be fair to Hong Kong, it's as if they have built a replica of their city underground, with all mass transit systems, walkways and malls beneath your feet. So as it was raining we made good use of all these amenities and got all the way to the Peak Tram, a good way, before even contending with any rain. Once we had queued for an hour and paid the fare and up we went to the top of Victoria Peak to take in surely one of the worlds best and most famous views. Its says everything about it that even on a day which was wet and quite windy, it was still beautiful. We met loads of people at the top and we all helped each other take photos of each other. Even two English old girls carrying, remarkably, Marks and Spencer bags!

From there we walked for about three hours, all over Hong Kong island. We really took in all of the amazing sights, smells and sounds that this part of town had to offer and we both agreed that we have never ever ever seen so many mall and shops in our lives. Every space, both underground and overground for maybe fourteen floors is filled with designer shops. Maybe if you'd put the X Factor on in the background I could quite possibly have been in my own very personal hell.

From the borderline purgatory of shoppers delight to the ultimate experience of Temple Street Night Market. After a quick skype session to Kyla and Graham (Skype is amazing-we miss our friends and family like mad) we headed out to the market in hope of an authentic Hong Kong experience. We wouldn't be disappointed. Apart from the multitude of stalls selling cack, there was a few selling remarkable items and if we had both more money and indeed a home then we would really splurge and buy some great items. The most amazing thing about the market was the food. The abundance of it, the plethora of canteens, the atmosphere and the smell was unbelievable. It's probably the highlight of my trip so far and you could see Shell was getting slightly worried about how excited I actually was. But hey, this is it, this is what all that saving was for. For experiences such as this.
Much love, Tommo xxx