"I want tomato because it has my name in it"

After I last wrote, I continued on my journey through Cambodia. I can't remember if I mentioned this before, but I immediately went down to Sihanoukville, searched for accomodation with a group of people I met on the bus, and ended up at a super cheap hostel. I was absolutely exhausted and beat down, and felt like I needed a break from traveling, if only for a few days. The first night in Sihanoukville was awful. At midnight, the power cut out (apparently a common occurence in Sihanoukville), and that meant no fans in the dorms. The cramped, dirty dorm was a sauna, and there was no possible way to sleep. I went outside to rest on the patio a few times, but was eaten alive by mosquitoes. At one point, I just started covering my face in tiger balm to get a cooling sensation. The next morning, two Norwegian guys from my bus were also moving places, so we decided to split a room in a hotel down the street near the beach. Naturally, this meant that I spent two days hanging out on the beach with Norwegians! On the second day, we checked out Otres Beach, which was supposedly a much more quiet and oasis-like beach a few kilometres down. It was beautiful, and it was amazing to just relax for a few days. No sightseeing, no crowds. On the second night, the Brits arrived and, sticking with tradition, I met up wih them for a night of drinking. We went to a few different bars along the beach and caught up from when I'd last seen them in Saigon. Since I had to move accomodation the next morning anyway (the Norwegians were headed off), I got a room in the Brits' hotel, and that set the tone for the rest of Cambodia...
 We spent two more days in Sihanoukville, one at Otres, and the next I broke off to do a scuba diving trip off of Koh Rong, a serene island lined with beach bungalows off the coast. The diving was phenomenal. The first dive, I couldn't get down, as my sinuses had been a little rough from a cold. I decided to wait for the second dive, and took the opportunity to do a little snorkelling nearby. Almost immediately after I swam over to the rocks, I looked down through a school of fish and spotted my first shark. It was nothing big, either a bull shark or a black tip I think, but it was enough for me to decide that I'd seen enough, and head back to the boat. After lunch, I gave diving another shot and managed to get down. The reef was gorgeous. Instead of bleached coral like you see now in much of the world, the reef was alive and full of life and colour. We saw giant porcupine fish, fuzzy crabs (I think that's what they're called...), blue-spotted stingrays, and too many fish to count.

Some of the hundreds of skulls in the memorial at the killing fields

 The following morning, after a serious lack of sleep, we all headed to Phnom Penh, the capital city. It was the four guys, a German girl - Hannah - and I, and I was more than happy to have some other people to make decisions for me for a few days. Almost immediately after arriving, we ran into Neil, a guy we'd all met in Laos who's biking around the world. We decided to group together for the next day of sightseeing where we would visit the killing fields and the S-21 prison, both important landmarks in the genocide led by the Khmer Rouge in the 1970s.

One of the buildings at S-21 prison

Pictures of the victims at S-21

 We started with the killing fields, a place where prisoners were taken, murdered, and buried in giant pits. Because bullets were expensive, they explain the brutality of the murders which could sometimes be pretty graphic. While hearing all of it is depressing, I actually found it less disturbing than the Vietnam War Museum. I think it was because without the imagery, it's hard to picture all the chaos and brutality when you're only staring at a pile of dirt. Either way, it was an eye-opener and a must-do. Next we headed to the prison which had a much more intense experience attached to it, for me anyway.You walk into each cell, and you can still see the blood stains on the ceilings and walls from people being tortured. Then you walk around the rows and rows of faces; images of the victims, with women, men, and children, young and old. Every so often you'd hit an image that just stared deep into your soul, and you could feel the fear and pain. You then wander down the rows of tiny chambers where prisoners were held with wooden doors peeking open, and it's haunting. By the end of the prison, I got the depressing dose of reality that I'd been expecting that day.
 Meanwhile, all day long our tuktuk driver had been drinking, celebrating Songkran - Thai New Year. By the end of it, he was pissed drunk and there was nothing we could do but go along with it and have a good laugh. He kept asking us if we wanted cheap beer, so he ended up taking us to a cell phone shop with a fridge...They pulled out a table and chairs and a long night of festivities began yet again. Eventually we moved on to a restaurant for dinner, and by the end, our driver was drunk enough to let one of the Brits drive the tuktuk while he rode with us in the back. I can't imagine what people must of thought of some white guy driving a tuktuk around downtown Phnom Penh with a load of drunk people stuffed in the back.

Frog legs for dinner!

 Back at the hotel, I ended up running into the two Canadian girls from Tofino that I'd met in Hoi An, Vietnam, and they joined our group for an evening of dancing. Overall an amazing night in the capital.
 Our last stop in Cambodia was in Siam Reap to visit the famous Angkor Wat. We knew the best way to do it was either sunrise or sunset so we opted for the former and rolled ourselves out of bed at four in the morning to head over to the temples. Nine hours later, we were hot, sweaty, exhausted, and totally templed out. Angkor Wat was amazing though. The ancient ruins intertwined with giant twisting trees gives a mystical feel as you wander through archways and around fallen stone. After a ridiculously long day, Hannah and I decided to take some much needed girl time to have dinner and shop, and ended up meeting up with some of her previous travel buddies for a few drinks and pool. That's just how it works here: you want a peaceful night, yet there are always going to be more new people to meet and down time just doesn't work. After debating if I should stay in Cambodia longer or just head back to Bangkok with the group, I decided to head back to Thailand and get things in order before Indonesia. It was crazy to think that I was back in Bangkok. It seems like so long ago that I was here with Rachel and Jo and felt like I still had my whole trip ahead of me. It makes me unbelievably sad to think that my trip is so close to ending (which is completely ridiculous since I still have six weeks...). The guys decided to stay in Bangkok for one night and go all out, so of course I joined in, as it was probably my last night with them. I've now had two days to relax, catch up on sleep, and prepare myself for my next big stop: Indonesia! I'm beyond excited to see Saskia and do our advanced diving course while living on a boat for four days, not to mention all of our other amazing stops along the way. I head to the airport in four hours, and am counting down every minute!
 Oh, and by the way, my title is a reference to a joke one of the Brits made that I felt summed up my travel week with them: a good laugh (his name is Tom and he ordered tomato...I laughed so hard that I ended up crying hysterically...).
*more photos coming soon!

Most of the group clubbing in Phnom Penh (courtesy of Facebook)

A Whirlwind Week

At the sand dunes for sunrise in Mui Ne

It has only been about one week since I last wrote, but it's been an action-packed week. After my last entry, I spent another night in Dalat, and went on my canyoning tour. With the company of a Dutch couple, we set off for a waterfall park area. I had brought the wrong kind of shoes and had to switch shoes with the guide, ending up with oversized sneakers, falling apart at the seams. Great start. At first, I was hesitant at the safety factor; they first guided us to a practice wall where we strapped ourselves into our harnesses, attached a rope, and learned to control our own descent. Having control of my own rope wasn't favourable, but I went with it. After the first two abseils, I felt pretty good. We had descended down rockfaces, dropping into water at the bottom, and swimming to land. We also did a couple rockslides and one cliff jump after lunch. Our third descent was straight through a waterfall descending 45 metres, and five metres from the bottom, you had to let go of your rope and jump down into the water below. Our guide told us that people often slip and fall on this one, so we needed to learn how to stand back up. As I started my descent, I felt good about my grip, and figured it probably wouldn't be that hard. When I got into the main section of the waterfall however, it was a very different story. The force of the waterfall was unimaginably strong and it pummeled down over my entire body, making it increasingly harder to keep my feet against the wall. I ended up slipping three times, each time getting pushed under the force of the water, soaking my eyes and filling up my mouth. Each time, I had to take a second and tell myself that I could do this, I would not be letting go of the rope or giving up. I would see it through to the end. Finally, after asking the guide fifteen times if I was okay to let go, he gave me the go-ahead and I plunged into the water below. Shaking from adrenaline after I got to shore, it was of little surprise that I whimped out on the last abseil. Still, all in all, a great day, and something that I might have never thought to try in any other place. Before exploring the town, I headed to the tour agency to pick something up I had left on the bus, and ended up having a long talk with a tour guide about his beautiful, mysterious country. I had wanted to ask someone about what it was like to live in a communist country, but hadn't yet met the right person. He explained to me that while Vietnam is technically titled communist, it is actually a very capitalist way of life. He said they have an expression: If you are rich, you are alive, if you are poor, you are dead. He explained that while they pay the government, they still have to pay for all education and healthcare. I also asked about their sentiments towards Americans. He told me how his grandfather despised Americans, but his generation took a different position. While they could forgive, they would never forget. I was so thankful that this man had been so willing to give me some insight into his country and couldn't believe that one simple conversation had taught me so much. That night, I walked to the market to grab some street food for dinner. As I eyed some chicken porridge, a Vietnamese man who spoke English saw my struggle to order, and immediately jumped in to help me out. It turns out he was actually a Canadian from Vancouver, and was just visiting Vietnam on holiday. We chatted about home and about my next destination, and then said our goodbyes. After briefly befriending a local painter ( an art student who sold her dad's paintings each night at the market), I headed back and prepared myself for my morning journey to Mui Ne.

Sand Dunes in Mui Ne

 I arrived in Mui Ne and checked into a gorgeous hostel with a beautiful pool by the beach. After wandering the town to check out the shops, I booked a sunrise tour to the sand dunes the following morning, and spent the rest of the day laying by the

View of a fishing village outside Mui Ne

rock formations along a river near Mui Ne

pool. Every time I get to bask in luxury, I think about how I am the luckiest person in the world to get to leave behind the routine of home and work to simply indulge for five months. The next day I was up first thing at four to board a jeep for the sand dunes. The dunes are simply rippling mountains of sand overlooking the ocean on one side, and a lake on the other. As the sun rises, you see the complexion of every colour in the sky, and are then given the chance to ride down the dunes on a sheet of plastic. After visiting the red sand dunes, a fishing village, and a river surrounded with towerung rock formations, we headed back to town, and I headed straight back to the pool, resting up before my bus ride to Ho Chi Minh City.

A copy of the famous image inside the War Museum

 From what I'd heard, I'd expected a fair amount from Saigon (renamed Ho Chi Minh after the war). People had continually said they liked it more than Hanoi, and I'd really enjoyed Hanoi. After arriving at my hostel, I immediately met some German guys, and joined them for dinner and drinks on the main backpacker road, Bui Vien. Not surprisingly, I ran into the British guys who'd also arrived that evening. The next morning at breakfast, I quickly began chatting with a British girl, Annie, and an American, Chris. We decided to spend the day together, but since they'd already been to the war museum, I broke off and planned to join up with them for dinner. After wandering the streets for nearly an hour in the scorching heat, I finally found it. The war museum was one of the most overwhelming educational experiences I've ever had. Between the images of massacres of women and children, to photos of agent orange victims, to the prisons showing methods of torture, by the end of it, you just want to sit down, breaths, and take a minute to absorb everything you just saw. All I'd known of the war before this was the basic statistics and facts. Now, I've been exposed to a side of the war history books breeze over, and it is a beyond depressing reality.

Crawling through the Cu Chi tunnels used by the Viet Cong

 I wasn't up for much more sightseeing afterwards, so I checked out a market and headed back to get ready for some local food with Annie and Chris, and some people from our hostel. Well, I'm not sure if it was the street alley food or not, but I spent the next full day in bed with a fever and a rough stomach.
 On my last day in Saigon, I decided to visit the tunnels; 200 kms of underground routes built by the Vietkong to hide from American soldiers. I originally planned to go to the non-touristy tunnels with the Brits, but plans fell through, and I opted for a tour to the frequently visited ones. In the end, that was one of the best decisions I ever made...
 Later that night, I heard from one of the Brits who wanted to go for a drink and just have a chill night chatting. We met up and he told me how they had met a Brit in their hostel and he had gone with them to the tunnels. Well, long story short, the guy was in the tunnels, and something went terribly wrong - most likely there was a snake or a scorpion involved - and the traveler died almost instantly in the tunnel. The Brits spent most of their day dealing with the aftermath and taking all the steps to help out the guy's family back home. When I first heard the story, I was shocked, and thought about all the little decisions that were made for that scenario to play out exactly as it did. What if they hadn't told him their plans? What if they'd gone the day before like originally planned? What if I'd gone with them? It's hard to really grasp how quickly life can slip through your fingers until something like that happens. After hearing about that tragedy, I was more than okay with moving on to my next destination, Cambodia.
 I planned out a route in Cambodia that lets me see the main attractions in nine days. I'm starting in the South, Sihanoukville, and making my way to Pnom Penh, and Siam Reap. Sihanoukville has been a cluster of lazy beach days, and tomorrow I'm hoping to go on a diving trip to the island Koh Rong. While the beach here is great and there's a vibe similar to that of the Thai islands. The only difference is the amount of child vendors approaching you on the beach which at times can be extremely depressing. It was actually worse in Saigon because the children were often drugged. Here at least the kids sometimes get to act like kids. I also conveniently met some Norwegian backpackers on my bus down, and have been splitting a room with them for a couple days. Naturally, the Brits arrived shortly after me, meaning that Sihanoukville will probably be filled with memorable nights out. I only have a week until I'm off to Indonesia to meet up with Saskia, which means I'm coming close to the final legs of my journey.
 Looking back to my first entry, I think I've come a long way. When I left for Asia, I wrote about feeling as if the weight of the world is on my shoulders, but the longer I'm here, I realize that that weight is not as heavy as it seems, and there are always people there willing to help you with the load. I've also been humbled by some of the things I've seen and experienced. Life is completely what you make of it, and at the end of the day, if you're doing something you love, the obvious path might not be the right one. This trip has also enhanced my travel bug, and definitely not relieved the itch to see the world. I've already started thinking about my next couple trips: I'm thinking a yoga course and meditation in India and my divemaster in Central America. Saying this of course, I should probably wrap up this trip first and avoid getting ahead of myself.

Good Morning, Vietnam!

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.