Saigon, will love you long time...

Arriving into Saigon several hours after leaving Mui Ne, you were presented almost immediately with the overopowering sense of being somewhere completely huge. Already, having spent the best part of two hours crawling through the endless city suburbs we were mentally prepared for what waited for us inside the city, but the hustle and bustle of the city just seemed to envelope around you. Bounding off the bus, we headed straight for our guesthouse and were greeted, yet again, by unbelievably friendly and warm hosts. For 18 dollars a night we were put in a nice room with a huge bed, but the hosts just went completely out of their way to make us feel at home. It's almost as if you were staying with your favourite aunty and uncle, the ones who let you eat chocolate digestives all day and torment the dog. If we were not looking forward to Saigoin initially, all worries seemed to disappear.

That night, after grabbing yet more noodle soup (pho), we headed out onto the main tourist drag and settled down on one of the small (very) plastic chairs and ordered a round of beers. After having our first real conversation about wedding guest lists (oh no!) we bumped into Derek and Yulia, the guys we had met in China over a month before. To be honest it was great to see familiar faces, even if we had met them on the trip. After Yulia went off to bed, Shell, Derek and myself carried on knocking back the cheap beers until the small hours. At some point during the night we even managed to bump into a guy wearing one of the famous 'Southsea Bronx' t-shirts, turns out their was a small group of guys who had studied at Portsmouth Uni! Although you are always going to bump into fellow Brits, we are indeed everywhere, this was slightly more surreal given were we were, and after many cheap beers, made us all pretty excited. We also managed to taste one of the many interesting snacks that are on offer from the multitude of different sellers, this time we opted for the dried squid. If you can imagine the worst smell you can possibly imagine, multiply that by infinity and you are somewhere close. The taste is, naturally, pretty foul.

We had planned to be up early the next morning in preperation to visit all of Saigon's inner-city attractions, unfortunately when we arrived back at the guesthouse at 2am, the doors were firmly locked and the lights were off. This meant shouting up to the old hotel owners to get them to come down and let us in. To be fair to them they were fine, but as they bolted the door back up and went to sleep we remembered that we had literally a mouth full of water left in the room. Both feeling very drunk, and massively dehydrated because of the high humidity, this wouldn't be the best preperation for an early start.

After eating a good breakfast in the morning, we headed towards the Notre Dame Cathedral, as the museums closed of lunch. Although not as charasmatic as it's Parisian counterpart, it still holds it own among the newly built skyscpaers. After stopping briefly for a much needed coffee, we headed towards the War Remnants Museum to learn everything there is to know about the famous American War, all gloriously provided in the finest Vietnamese propaganda four pounds can buy. In fairness, the museum leaves nothing out and every piece of history is retold in minute detail. Although in large part dedicated to the inhumane and illegal use of aggressive force by the States, arguably the best section was the story of the brave men and women of the press who risked life and limb to photograph and report the war in it's truest form. Some of the most evocative photo's of the 20th century were taken in Vietnam in the sixties and all were on show here. By far the most gruesome spectacle though was yet again the treatment of prisoners. Retelling thier stories in horiffic detail, you have to keep telling yourself that this will surely never happen whilst being constantly aware that these inhumane acts were purpotrated only 40 years ago. All in all a great museum but you leave wanting to cry for the state of mankind.

After treating ourselves to an amazing burger to cheer oursleves up we had an early night in preperation to be picked up by a tour that would be taking us to the Cu Chi Tunnels the following day. Waking up at six, we wandered outside and found a bakery that did 9p baguettes (warm ones) to settle our hunger for the 70km drive out the city. On the way we were astonished to be part of a bus group that was 100% British. It was an odd feeling to be behind two Essex boys constantly talking about the Thailand Full Moon Parties and a group at the back all complaining of being hungover in their grating home-counties slang.

Half way to the tunnels the bus stopped at a workshop run by the government that acts as an opportunity for people with special needs to work in full employment. Something which is very rare in Vietnam. Due to the devestating effects of 'Agent Orange' and other chemical defoliants used by the US in the war, many people have suffered horrific deformities as a result. Without the protection of a recognised welfare system behind them these people, in many cases, are completely alienated within society. This place then gives them something to do other than beg. You can't help but feel though that you are kind of being shown around on a government tour, you know, someth8ing which ignores the obvious corruption, the choking traffic and huge rich-poor divide and just focuses on the good things they are doing for the special people. You don't fool me Uncle Ho!

Anyway, the tunnels! They were Ok I suppose, the story is amazing. 250 kms of tunnels built under a large swathe of Vietnamese countryside that the Americans, with their vastly superior firepower, just couldn't defeat. Some of the tunnels are absolutely tiny and we at least got to travel for 5-10 minutes underground but it was, naturally, a claustrophobic nightmare. Overall, I guess the worst part was the guns. For 20-30,000 Dong per bullet you could fire anyone of an AK-47, M-16, Shotgun and a few others on an adjacent range. We just felt lost and did not understand why this had anything to with, you know, anything. It's as if people had come here not to hear the amazing story, but to tell their mates they had fired Rambo's gun.

Fortunately for us the day's highlight was meeting Toby and Helen. A couple from Manchester who were coming to the end of a three week holiday in Vietnam. After meeting them earlier in the day it felt as though we had a lot in common and spent the rest of the day with them, arranging to meet up later for food and maybe a beer a or two. Before we did we managed to film two massive rats chilling on the top of a coffee bar. They were as big as badgers! The rest of the night we spent with Toby and Helen, a fantastic couple of people who seemed to have so much in common with our lives. You kind of meet a lot of different people whilst travelling, I guess it's probably the highlight, with these guys though it was as if we had been hanging out with some of our best friends back home. Both of us hope that we can stay in touch and hopefully see them when we return for some Manchester action, it would be a shame if we didn't. In a way, I guess it's probably the worst thing about travelling too, the fact that you have to say goodbye far too quickly. I hate saying goodbyes.

Next stop, Phnom Penh, capital of Cambodia and another different country. This means we have to say our farewells to Vietnam, a country we have fallen head over heels for. It has it's problems, some of them are pretty obvious but what it does have, it makes you crazy for more. The food and the people make this country and their work-ethic and determination to better themselves by getting their sleeves dirty has to be admired, in fact scrap that, it's what we should aspire to...

A little place called Mui Ne....

So on the journey goes, after venturing inland for a brief two-day sojourn into the mountains to Dalat, we were on our way once more to the coast and a small beach resort called Mui Ne. Before we arrived however, we would first have to contend with the four and a half hour journey back down through the mountains. A route made even more impossible by the driver's irritating decision to take a seemingly 'more scenic' route, that according to the map on the iphone, didn't even exist! Even though we were the only westerners on the decrepid old bus, each and every passenger looked as bewildered as each other as the bus struggled through mudslides, part-destroyed roads, herds of buffalo and hare-pin bends that wouldn't look out of place in a James Bond movie. Why this madman couldn't have gone the more conventional route along the highway, we will never know. Even so, we arrived shaken but in one piece in Mui Ne nearly five hours later, where we waited patiently for yet more motorbikes to pick us up to take us to our guesthouse.

After finding the hotel on the internet by accident really (saying that it was #1 on trip advisor) I phoned the owner where we had a long conversation where he told me that the guesthouse was actually closed for renovation but they were building another, very similar one right across the road. He said we could stay there, as it was 90% complete and he would put us in a proper suite with stunning views of the pool downstairs and also, stunningly, the sea in the distance from our terrace. Apparently the offer is called a 'soft opening' (don't think about the name too much) due to it not being complete, but whatever it is, it is good! We managed to haggle him down to 20 dollars a night when they will be going for around 70 dollars in a few weeks time.

To match the beauty of our surroundings the guys that own and run the place like everyone to mix together, to create a real family vibe. This they have in abundance. We met some really great guys there and decided to book another couple of nights on the back of our welcome alone. That night we dumped the bags and went out for food, noticing straight away that the tempreture must have been a good fifteen degrees hotter than in Da Lat, absolutely crazy.

The next morning we woke fairly late for a change, had yet another beautiful breakfast made freshly for us and got talking to the guys about what to do over the next two days. We decided that as the weather was so good we would take advantage of the beach and the fact that the guys here have a special 'partnership' with one of the huge, mega-resorts on the beach. Basically for 4 dollars each we could spend the whole day using their facilities, making use of the pool etc. After walking through the grounds we hit an amazing stretch of beach, Skegness this certainly isn't. The sand powdery white, the sea bath-like warm and hardly a Russian in sight. Oh yeh, the Russians! Forgot to mention this. Bascially Mui Ne is Russia's biggest foreign holiday destination outside of the Black Sea resorts of the Ukraine. Which kind of puts a very surreal spin on things given the fact that every shop in Vietnam sells bucket-loads of Red Star adorned memorabilia and the equally interesting fact that the Russians like to wear said Red Star memorabilia. In essence, as you witness large groups of Russian blokes walking around wearing red stars and singing in Russian, you could be back in the height of the Cold War in Moscow, but by the seaside. Very strange.

Anyway, the beach was perfect and so we spent the whole day there, only sidetracked once by a game of beach football involving around twenty Vietnamese and a couple of Aussies, who in true Antipodean Style, just ran around kicking everyone. Without sounding like Roy of the Rovers I scored a hat-trick and the winning goal, celebrated with my adopted team and then fell into the sea in a sweaty ball of mess. I don't think Shell had known where I had gone for an hour or so but it's the first football I have seen in months and I was truly mesmerised.

Back at the hotel, we were preparing to head out for food when all of a sudden the power completely went out followed by a rainstorm of vicious proportions, causing a literal river to form outside of our room. It never really stopped all night so we were kindly offered to have take away brought up the hill to us from the restaurant which is fortunately owned by the same guys. For the first time in a couple of months we gorged on take-away food but take-away food of the freshest Vietnamese fare you could imagine. I have said this many times already on this blog over the past few weeks but Vietnamese food is to die for. By far the tastiest and most varied I have had the good fortune to experience.

The next day we awoke to a bit of a grey start but with the promise of the weather clearing to create yet another perfect beach day, it wasn't to be. Although we spent the whole morning on the beach, we had to run and take cover at about 2pm as another giant rain cloud approached. Crashing into the beach bar we sat and thought we would wait it out by playing draughts, the poor man's chess. In true Shell style, she ended up being silently amazing at a game she never plays. You see this is the thing with Shell, vastly understated and relatively introverted, she is enormously intelligent without ever wanting or needing anyone to know that she is. Which is why after three hours of tense, Gary Gasparov style draughts I was comprehensively and humiliatingly defeated. Never really winning a draught piece and outhought at pretty much every turn. Not happy. But well done Miss Fleming, chess next time. (We just have to learn how to play it).

That night we hung out with some of the guys from the hotel, one of the girls, called Olivia, comes from Chichester no less! Very small world indeed. (Could be Olivia Mastrolonardo in twenty years!-If Vito let's her?). After ordering yet more food to be delivered by the restaurant we headed to bed early in hope that tomorrow the weather would clear.

As the weather was still overcast the following morning we decided to opt out of the kite-surfing lessons and hire a motorbike! Now I have never ridden a motorbike before, in fact I have never really driven anything motorised before so I was determined to do both of us proud by conquering at least some demons of mine. After a brief lesson from Jake outside the hotel we were on our way to the sand dunes to the north-east, some 40kms away! Not a bad baptism! After some initial wobbleyness and being squeezed off the road by an apologetic bus driver we were on our way, and I felt as high as a kite! (I'm thinking Vespa or Lambretta when we get back!).

Finally arriving at the dunes, we were once again blown away by the sheer size and magnitude of them. Parking up we were then convinced to hire two wobbly peices of plastic that we were informed you could sit on and sledge down the dunes. In reality they wouldn't budge, even though we walked 10 minutes to the top of the highest point. Daylight robbery. I tried to remonstrate with the kid who hired them to us but I think he just thought I was excited. We spent a good 2 hours there before riding all the way back to Mui Ne where we had just enough time to visit the Fairy Springs, a river which you actually walk in barefoot, all the way to a waterfall, half a km away. All the time you are surrounded by vibrant red cliffs and rock formations, giving the whole experience some what of a Bear Grylls edge, half expecting a snake to jump out at you! Half way we did notice a place where you could ride an ostrich the rest of the way, now that would have been an experience. I think my dad would have loved that...

The next morning we woke to glorious blue skies! Typical. The previous day we had booked tickets to Saigon, a journey of some five hours as our visa ends on Saturday and to be honest if the weather isn't great then Mui Ne offers very little itself. It was just our luck then that the weather is amazing. As I type away here on the bus as we roll around the endless roads of Saigon I am not looking forward to the hustle and bustle of a city that is home to over 10 million people! We have been warned what to expect but I don't think anything can prepare you for 12 million scooters!

We have offcially been gone two months today. I can't quite believe it really. In some ways I guess it has flown by but then I think back to what we have already seen and done and I just feel dizzy. Let's just hope the next few weeks are equally as impressive as we head away from the coast and into Cambodia and Laos, may even try deep-fried spider!
Much love, Tommo xxx

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