I know, cheesy title, but it just happens to be extremely fitting for this entry... I have now been in Vietnam for just short of two weeks, and I am absolutely LOVING it! I want to say this is my favourite country so far, but all the experiences have been so different, I don't think they're completely comparable. I had heard so many mixed things about this country before I got here, and I rarely heard that it was someone's favourite on their trip, but this country is simply amazing. Yes, there's a ridiculous amount of traffic, and yes, the people are way more in your face constantly hassling you to buy things, but a culture needs such nuisances to really make it tick.
After my last entry, I spent one day on Cat Ba Island, and treated myself to a rock climbing and kayaking tour. I'd never rock climbed before, but hey, why not develop a new hobby in a new country. I also wanted to explore Lan Ha Bay, which I'd read was even more beautiful than Halong Bay. We took a boat to a small island that so happened to be just across from the Hanoi Backpackers Castaway Island - what I called the Halong Bay Booze Cruise. The main hostel in Hanoi organizes tours for young travelers to Halong where they stay in beach huts, do watersports, and get completely pissed drunk from dawn until dusk. Apparently at 9 am, they'll already be shotgunning beers, and even one of the guides was puking by 10 am (just from one of the many stories I heard...). While I'm all about socializing and drinking, I am unbelievably glad that I passed up a five-day hangover for my tamer and more relaxed exploration of Halong. Anyway, while we were setting up the ropes - or actually while my trusty guides were setting up the ropes - a group of drunk bafoons kayaked over and then proceeded to drop their shorts, flashing everyone back at their island. Exactly what you want at nine in the morning: pale euro asses. Two Aussies and a Brit ended up joining the climbing group, and we attempted three different rock walls. It took me a second to realize that I was perfectly safe, and that if I had to let go of the rock, I wouldn't plunge to my death. Once I got it though, the adrenaline went way down, and I became more than happy to let go, and readjust my position. I managed to complete the first, but ended up getting stuck about forty or fifty feet up the others (at least, that's my guess at how high they were). Still, it was heaps of fun and definitely a challenging workout. On the last wall, I gave in simply because my arms went limp. After a huge lunch on the boat, the group headed out on kayaks, pulling up on beaches to explore caverns and arches connecting different beaches and lagoons. The one thing that is really sad about Vietnam is the garbage. Halong Bay is one of the seven natural wonders of the world, but there is nothing wonderful about pulling up on a beach covered in trash - at one point, we even saw a bunch of used needles. It's just depressing and shows that the waste of humanity really does spread everywhere. That night, I wandered around Cat Ba Town looking for dinner when I saw Hannah and Marten, the couple I had trekked with in Northern Laos. I ended up having dinner with them, and chatting about our first impressions of Vietnam. While I was so far satisfied and in awe, they had had a very different experience. From food to the unfriendliness of people, they were not enjoying themselves. I think a huge part of travel is luck, and if it's not on your side, the things that can happen can completely ruin your entire trip.
The next day, I took an early morning ferry and bus ride back to Hanoi. I was hoping to see a few of the sights before heading to my next stop. When I got there, however, my plans were slightly altered, and the only thing I accomplished was a day of shopping in the Old Quarter. Hanoi is really interesting in that the shopping is organized by streets. There's the shoe street, the cheesy-yet-useful souvenir boulevard, grocery road, even lingerie lane. I was in desperate need of knock-off Tom's, and of course, nothing stands in the way of me and my shoe addiction, not even in Asia. After wandering the streets for hours, I sat down at a sidewalk restaurant (vendors set up mini plastic chairs and tables) to eat before my bus ride. Seconds after I sat down, I began chatting with a couple Brits who were living in Hanoi teaching English. They had both been there for multiple years. All I could think was about how so many people had told me they hated Hanoi, but there must've been an equal amount who loved it just as much. A local came and joined the Brits, and we began talking about my trip, and before you know it, we're all eating peanuts and meat dumplings, having a beer, and adding each other to Facebook to give me suggestions for my trip. In retrospect, I wish I'd seized the moment and just changed my trip plans then and there, and asked if they'd be willing to show me around Hanoi for a day, seeing the places that tourists just wouldn't find. Unfortunately, when you move around as much as I do, you constantly think about what you should've done in past situations to have had the best experience. In the end, I gave a quick goodbye and thank you, and rushed off to catch my sleeper bus to Hue.
Hue is city about halfway down Vietnam, just off the coast. It was a major battle site during the Vietnam War, but still offers scenic attractions making it a stop for backpackers. I stayed at the main hostel in town, and headed out alone for a day of sightseeing. I first went to the Citadel which shows how the Emperors and Royals used to live, and boasts gorgeous gardens. By the recommendation of an old Brtish man I met at the bar, I headed to the war museum afterward, and only then did I realise that the Citadel had actually been the location of a major bombing during the war. Images showed the ruins of the Citadel, and the ways the Americans tortured and killed local civilians. Unsurprisingly, the war is portrayed in a very different way in Vietnam, and visiting these places is really the only way to get both sides of the story. It's kind of eerie though; there are a bunch of old American war tanks and jets outside the museum, and you can see Vietnamese families and children playing on them and posing for pictures. On my way back to the hostel, I walked through a park along the Perfume River, filled with modern statues. Just before I left, a young Vietnamese girl approached me on her bicycle and explained that she was an English student and was hoping I would sit and have a conversation with her, so that she could practice. I had been wanting to have a real conversation with a local, and it's not like I had anywhere to be, so we sat down on a bench and went through the routine questions of ages, families, and jobs. She told me of her desire to work abroad in a developed country, but she didn't think she could, as it's so expensive and she comes from a poor family. She asked which countries I'd been to, and was shocked as I listed them off. She assumed I must be rich, and although I'm obviously not poor, I explained to her that traveling and seeing the world was a priority for me, and that if she really set her mind to it, she'd be surprised by what she could accomplish. She taught me a bit about Vietnam, and the poverty that exists here, and eventually a couple of her friends came over, which I took as my cue to leave. And that was Lala from Vietnam.
When I got back to the hostel, I immediately began to meet people. An American guy in my room invited me out for dinner with a group of people, most of whom happened to be Canadians, from Calgary. Of course dinner led to beers which led to a night out, and I was more than okay with this, as I'd taken a reasonable breather from partying to have some peaceful time to myself. The next day, the Canadians and I visited the local market, and more or less just relaxed and walked around the town. The Vietnamese man from Hanoi had told me that I needed to go to Lang Co Beach outside of Hue. It ended up being pretty far though and I couldn't figure out how to get there, but I was determined, and where there's a will, there's a way. New arrivals in my room told me they were planning on motorbiking down to Hoi An the following day. While none of them could take me on the back of their bike, I was more than welcome to tag along on my own bike. I thought this through carefully; only a week or so earlier, I'd told my dad that it seemed liked an unbelievably stupid idea to drive a motorbike in Asia considering the amount of accidents and deaths. Then again, you only live once, and you can't live life fully if you never try something new. Plus, what's life without a little risk? I told the hostel I wanted to try it out the next morning. If it went horribly, I'd pay extra to have a driver. I did one run down the block, and almost hit a bus. For some reason, I judged that as a success and went for it. For the first hour or so, I took my time going slowly and getting a feel for the bike. After I built up my confidence, motorbiking in Vietnam became one of the best decisions I'd ever made. Driving through farming villages and along the coastline was unbelievably liberating. I had the ability to go where I wanted in a country I didn't know, and every new bend in the road presented a new scene, almost always more beautiful than the previous. School kids would line up as we passed, holding out their hands for us to high five them as we drove past; a lady with a motorbike crammed with geese drove past us with feathers flying out in all directions; men and women would pass by going the other way, sometimes giving us funny looks, shocked by a group of white tourists (and women at that) driving motorbikes with no locals. We finally got to Lang Co Beach, and honestly I was a little disappointed. Yes, it was pretty clean for Vietnam, and it went on for miles, but it was completely deserted with little character or appeal. After a quick lunch break, we kept going, driving through the windy mountainous roads of Hai Van Pass - not to mention the occasional goat and cow crossing - until we hit Danang. Danang was the only city we had to go through, but we had no choice but to follow the main road which was swarmed with motorbikes. I wasn't as afraid of hitting the other bikes as I was of losing my group and getting lost in the sea of mufflers. Luckily, I picked up motorbike driving fast enough to navigate my way through and come out in one piece. After that, it was a straight shot along the coast to Hoi An. That was it, I was hooked. The second I returned my bike, I was ready to go again.
And I did, the very next day. I met up with the Canadians in Hoi An, who also knew two Canadian girls, so we all rented bikes and headed to Marble Mountain, along with an Aussie girl, Mel, and a Danish girl, Mie. Mel and I got bored and wanted to take full advantage of the bikes, so we took off early and headed back to explore the rice paddies and local fishing villages. I decided to take some photos for my portfolio - a task which has fully been neglected of late - and worked up the courage to ask some of the locals for their picture. They were more than willing, and I managed to get shots, from an old lady striking a pose outside her house, to two men posing the water buffalos they were using to till soil. That night, the Canadians managed to find a hole-in-the-wall local restaurant that serves up a table full of food for a set price, and you eat until you can't move. A few of us decided to go out that night, and found a bar that literally serves free alcohol. I ended up running into that group of British guys - yet AGAIN - and spent the night drinking crap moonshine, and dancing on pool tables.
Despite the late night, the next day, I was up immediately, not only for the buffet breakfast at the hotel, but to visit one of the four hundred tailors in Hoi An to have clothes made. I knew about this feature of the town, and told myself I would only get a business dress made. A business dress, sun dress, leather shoes, and spring coat later, I decided I just couldn't afford anymore. I couldn't have been happier with my tailor. Every time I went for a fitting, she'd sit me down, offer me a cold drink, and we'd chat. One day we got into a deep conversation about her marriage. She's 25 years old and has a baby daughter. She said her husband used to be different; he'd also been a tailor and worked hard, and treated her well. After they were married, he stopped working and expected her to support him, as well as maintain the household. When she was pregnant, she found out he had a girlfriend. Now she was expected to take care of their daughter, run her own business, and wait on her husband, while he doddled around, drank coffee, and socialized all day. She knew she wanted to leave him, but didn't want her daughter to grow up without a father. I was so confused about what I should say to support her. The me at home would say ' Screw him! You're daughter will be happy if you're happy, and no one deserves to take crap like that from a man!', but I know it's not as simple as that, especially in Vietnam. On my last visit, I gave Ann the tailor a hug goodbye, and wished her luck with her business.
In Hoi An, not only did I manage to blow money on clothes and motorbikes, I also happened to blow a whole seven dollars at a self-serve ice cream shop with 45 flavours. When you're in Asia for this long, treats like that just can't be missed. Soon after the Canadians left and I had passed a day watching Mel shop and drop a grand on a new wardrobe, new Canadians arrived: two girls who lived in Tofino. We immediately hit it off and had dinner and an amazing night out of bar hopping. The following morning, I skipped the hangover saga for a day at the beach before I had to leave for my next destination. I'd spent five nights in Hoi An, and I would've gladly stayed there for three weeks. Between the buffet breakfasts, the pool, the people, the adorable town with tiny streets and a gorgeous river, Hoi An was like living in a summer dream. On this trip though, all good things eventually come to an end, and the search begins yet again for the next mind-blowing adventure.
So after yet another sleeper bus, I am now in Dalat. Weeks ago, I was flipping through a guidebook and saw that Dalat had an attraction called the Phang Nga Crazy House, an architectural marvel that was described as Gaudi meets Alice in Wonderland. On this alone, I decided it was worth visiting; something slightly off the beaten track that would give me something more than the usual parties and scene of the backpackers route. When I arrived today, after avoiding a thunder shower, I went in search of the Crazy House. Admittedly, it was pretty cool. Not only is it a structure full of funky walkways and narrow staircases weaved in with the natural trees of the property, but it's a guesthouse with rooms full of strange animals, like a kangaroo with glowing eyes or the 'Bear Room'. After exploring the central market, I booked a canyoning tour for tomorrow: a day of abseiling down waterfalls and cliff jumping (apparently Vietnam has me running towards adrenaline rushes). I only have about five days left in Vietnam, but if they're as good as the past two weeks, I have absolutely nothing to worry about.
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