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...

Mountain life in Dalat

Having had some chilled out beach action in Nha Trang, we were ready for change of scenery. Where better to head for than the mountain city of Dalat in the Central Highlands region of Vietnam. Another bus journey awaited us but a mere 4 hours compared to the dreaded 12 hour stints on night buses. I was really looking forward to checking out the views from the bus in daylight, especially as we were heading up into the mountains.

The bus crawled through many a sleepy town and village before making a slow, steady progress towards the mountains. The views were amazing as we climbed higher and higher and soon we were as high as the clouds. It was such a nice change to be able to look at the scenery as we travelled on the bus. Our usual journeys happen in the dead of night! My journey was somewhat spoilt however after our rest stop, as a small boy proceeded to throw up his noodles in the aisle right next to me! Soon the mountain city of Dalat came into sight and on first viewing I was not overly impressed. The guide book had described the city as 'little Paris' so I expected quaint French architecture and pretty little streets. We found small parts of the city like this but on the whole, it's not a very pretty city. However, it was a nice change from the places we had been previously and had a totally different climate - we had to wear a jumper! At times it felt as though we could have been in any city in Europe rather than in Central Vietnam.

On the plus side, we had struck gold with our accommodation here. We stayed in an amazing guesthouse called 'Dreams' with the lovely Mrs Duong as our host. She made the most AMAZING breakfast ever, a real family affair with all the guests sat round the same table and a jaccuzzi, steam room and sauna on a rooftop terrace - what more could you need! Having not been overly impressed after our wander round Dalat, she advised us to take a tour around the sights and surrounding areas with the 'Easy Riders'! Originating in Dalat, the Easy Riders spend their time riding around with tourists, showing them the 'real Vietnam'. What a life hey? We were both unsure what to expect from the Easy Riders but it sounded like fun so we agreed to a tour the next day. I think that this was quite possibly the best decision we have made on our trip so far!

At 8.30am the following day, we were greeted by two smiling Vietnamese bikers - Joseph and Ted (yes they really were Vietnamese!) As soon as the intoductions were over, we had helmets fitted to our head (Joseph found it very funny how small my head was - rude!) and we were off! I was actually really comfy on the back of my bike as it had a small seat and back rest so I could sit back easily and definately wasn't going to fall off. Tom was not so lucky and had to hold on tight!

We rode through the streets of Dalat, pretty slowly if I'm honest (they weren't speed demons, thank god!) and soon arrived at our first stop for the day, the Dragon Pagoda. Now we've seen a fair few pagodas in our time away so far but these were pretty different. Imagine the Disneyland of pagodas and you're half way there! There was also a temple, which Ted took great detail in showing us round and also told us about 'bell mail'. Basically, every temple has a huge bell that the monks generally use to communicate with Buddha. Ted told us to have a look underneath the bell to see the hundereds of letters stuck to the inside - 'bell mail to Buddha', brilliant!

We climbed back on the bikes and headed out into the countryside, it was beautiful. There are fields, not rice paddies, growing friut, vegetables and coffee - a totally different side to Vietnam. We stopped to admire the view and for Joseph to give us some history about the area, especially about the war. These guys were brilliant for explaining everything about their country, in great detail. From politics and religions to mountain tribes and village life, they knew absolutely everything and were only too happy to talk about it. Tom was in his element, especially when talk turned to the history and politics of the country! I'm sad to say that I knew very little about Vietnam before coming away but thanks to these guys, I've learnt a great deal.

Further on, we were given some time off the bikes to climb a hill and take in the view of Dalat city. It looked pretty impressive from the top so I set about taking some pictures and got the fright of my life when Ted appeared through the trees to give us some more history about the war. Turns out, the hill we were on was a major look out point for the South Vietnamese army and he was able to point out the trenches and bunkers to us. He was able to give amazing detail and some personal experience as he served during the war under the South Vietnamese Army.

Back on the bikes, we headed further into the country, riding past giant greenhouses full of flowers and many coffee plantations. We stopped at one plantation and Joseph told us about the different types of coffee that they grow (robusta and mocha were the two we saw) and watched the beans being expertly picked from the plants. Later in the day, we had the slightly disturbing experience of seeing weasels (trapped in tiny cages) being fed coffee beans, they poo them out and they are collected to make really expensive (and pretty disgusting in my opinion) coffee. Much like we saw in Bali with the mongoose. Neither were treated particularly nicely and I'm really unsure as to why anyone would want to drink this coffee anyway?

Our next stop was quite possibly my favourite of the day, Elephant waterfalls. No, there were no real elephants to be seen but the formation of the rocks at the base of the waterfall are said to look like elephants. They just looked like rocks to me but hey, I'm not going to argue! The waterfall was pretty difficult to get to so Ted came down with us to show us the way. The guy is incredibly fit and at times I struggled to keep up. I'm sure that my wearing sandals to scale the side of a waterfall was part of my downfall - I managed it though and the sandals survived too! I felt a bit like Tarzan at times holding onto vines and clinging onto exposed tree roots but it was so much fun and totally worth it when we made it to the bottom. Ted was so excitable and took my camera from me and insisted on taking photos of us. He took us right to the base of the waterfall and we got absolutely soaked, slipping and sliding everywhere! Wet through, we climbed up alongside the waterfall for more photos. Ted continued to snap away with the camera as we climbed back up to the top, shouting "no one else will ever have photos like these!" He truly is a madman! On reaching the top, we posed for some more photos with stone elephants (classy!) then went to check out the 'happy Buddha'. I have to say that it was by far my favourite Buddha that I've seen so far - all Buddha's should be that happy and smiley!!

When we eventually returned to the bikes, the guys ushered us into a local cafe across the road for some lunch. The four of us sat down at a table together and they ordered a small feast for us. There was so much food and it was all really tasty - they both made sure that we try a bit of everything. A total bargain for all the food that we ate and it was really nice to sit down with our guides and find out a bit more about them.

After lunch, we were whisked away to a local house to see silkworms and boy did we see some silkworms. Literally hundreds of them on bamboo frames outside their house, spinning small silk cocoons around themselves. Once the cocoons had formed, they are collected and sent to the silk factory. That was our next stop, where we saw the cocoons being washed and the now dead silk worm being removed. The silk is then fed through a machine and spun into huge reels to create any number of silk products. We saw a pretty ancient wooden machine weaving a pattern onto the silk. To be honest it looked as though it may have fallen apart any second but the finished products were beautiful!

We climbed back onto the bikes and headed to our last stop for the day, the 'Crazy House'. It is a pretty surreal Gaudi-esque building, with weird and wonderful rooms and staircases to wander around. I suppose it's a bit like a messed up Alice in Wonderland - we climbed up a giraffes back, walked through giant cobwebs, sat at the worlds smallest table and chairs, had our photo taken with a giant eagle and egg and climbed to the top of a Hansel and Gretel style house (Dan Clarke this is the place for you!!) A truly bizzare end to the most amazing day!

We both felt really sad when we arrived back at the hotel. I can really see why so many people pay these guys to take them all across Vietnam for weeks on their motorbikes. They were both fantastic and gave us both a day we will never forget! Despite first impressions, we had a great time here. Another bus journey awaits to take us back down to the coast - bring on the beach!!

Lots of love, Shell xxxx

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

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

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