And thank Santa for that- I got it! First and foremost, MERRY CHRISTMAS ONE AND ALL. I hope you had/are having a smashing day. Mine was certainly a Christmas I will not forget in a hurry, I can tell ya!
But I’ll rewind a bit first to get you up to speed...
The first day of biking was quite a test of my pain threshold, as you may or may not be able to imagine. We had quite an easy going start, lulling us nicely into a highly false sense of security. After a bike fitting and a kick-off coconut together, we took a maiden voyage out around the Siem Reap area. Here´s a fun fact for you folks at home- Siem Reap is home to a substantial number of bumpy roads. And here´s another fun fact for you- mountain bike seats are very, very hard. Now put those two together and maybe you have an idea about the fun we had on our first day out and about. I felt a lot of the time like I was sitting on a rock which was breaking quite capably through the lovely padding in the bum area I´d so carefully crafted in Vietnam. Luckily for us, numbness kicks in quite quickly, so after about half an hour, I was more or less unable to feel anything below my tum for the rest of the day, which only poses a problem when you try and dismount like an elegant lady type person and not some kind of half human/half octopus. That first day, we visited a pagoda where some monks were busy monking around the place, and were told about the history of PEPY, the organisation who is behind all this madness. It is mighty interesting but I wont´t bore you with the details right now. Before leaving, we blessed by the big guy on campus (a 77 year old monk who has been a monk for 60 years. 60 actual full years!) and he seemed to get quite a bit of amusement out of the fact that we´re going everywhere by bike. Being laughed at by a monk can now be officially ticked off the list. The day ended with a trip to the Cambodian Circus which, thank Buddha, did not involve any clowns. Just a French Father Christmas.
Day two was, well, a bit on the painful side to start with. Turns out my rear end is quite sensitive, so it took a while to get used to, or rather go numb, to the pain. The day began with a Meg Skinner fave- a cooking class! Again, I will spare you the tasty details for fear of boring you stupid. But I can assure you, it was very delicious indeed. We overran slightly and so had a very quick zoom back to the hostel to grab some stuff and head out for a little 40km ride to a whopping great reservoir. The ride was realllllly fun and I felt all intrepid because there was some very light mountain biking terrain involved- all rocks and sand and mud and what not. Miraculously, I didn´t fall off. I did, however, manage to uproot quite a lot of plants on my way round, looking quite like a bushman when I finally emerged onto the main road. Again, we were late arriving back to town, so I had a whole 25 minutes to sort my life out before being picked up and taken to a Christmas Eve party. Evidently, I am able to get ready in a flash when I´m under a bit of time pressure and I was not the big sweaty mess I had expected to be, which was nice. Mainly for the people who encountered me that evening. It was a great party and I even managed to pass myself off as a Belgian to a Dutch guy (I choose to ignore the fact that he was quite merry on mulled wine at the time).
And so today, Christmas Day, we woke up at 3.45 to make our way to Angkor Wat at sunrise. As did every other tourist in Siem Reap, apparently- it was like Picadilly Circus down there. The sun did its thing and, following breakfast, we had a full day of touring part of the Angkor complex, which is nothing short of incredible. As usual, my brain has failed its purpose to retain knowledge and I can barely remember anything we were told, but I remember it being very fascinating. Lots of stuff about kings and dancers and angry Vietnamese people. We headed back around 3pm and are now about to go out for a Christmas dinner- that festive classic of scallops with chilli and lemongrass!
So here I bid you goodnight. We leave Siem Reap tomorrow and the real adventure begins- wish me luck!!
Wednesday, 25 December 2013
Saturday, 21 December 2013
Hey look, another new country!
And here I am in Cambodia, finally on the brink of my main reason for travelling all this way-the big, scary bike ride. The official first day is tomorrow, so I am free this evening to sit and ponder my fate. I will mainly be thinking about my poor bum and its impending ordeal.
Before I give you an account of my very brief encounter with Thailand, I would just like to make a little dedication to my great aunt Mary. She opened the doors to not only a new country, but also to a whole new side of our family for which I am so grateful, because they are all rather fabulous characters. She was a cracking lady and I hope that I am still climbing mountains and swimming in the sea at 6am when I hit my 80s.
So, yes, my week in Thailand. Well, I hate-but really I mean love-to report that the large majority of my time was spent lazing around on the beach. Sorry! The day after my epic stroll through Bangkok, I went to meet an old friend from uni. He has significantly higher standards than I do, so I found myself in a very fancy hotel, jumping on a bed which was big enough for Henry the VIII and all his wives. Saying that, all of them in a bed at one time would be a very gory affair, given that he beheaded a couple of them. But there would have been more than enough space for the bodies and their heads, and any other heads lying around. Ok, be quiet now, brain. Anyway, after seeing that the bed was a great bed for jumping on, I thought I would check out the rooftop pool (I told you-high standards). Well that plan was tragically poo-pooed when I realised that I was incapable of working the lift. So I just hung around in the room- I didn‘t even want to look at that stupid pool anyway. Once my friend arrived, the evening was spent reminiscing about uni and laughing about how out of touch with the world I am.
The next day, it was beach tiiiiiime! This will be a very short section because really, what can I say? We were in a beach bungalow, 2 seconds from the sea, with nothing to do but relax and watch the world, and the Russians, go by. It was ridiculously lazy. So much so that I was slightly ashamed at how little I did. But before you shake your heads and judge me, remember that I am on the cusp of a world of bike-induced pain!
Upon returning to Bangkok, after yet another bump-tastic bus ride, we headed over to MBK, a.k.a. the best place to buy everything you will never need in life. And I mean everything. It was like a flippin labyrinth. I was really hoping that David Bowie would pop up in his Jared The Goblin King outfit and sing about the babe with the power of voodoo. Sadly, this dream was not fulfilled-instead, I was faced with stall upon stall of, well, stuff. It was a little overwhelming for provincial bumpkins like myself, but my friend was in his element and came away with some pretty decent fake Rolexes. Once we were sufficiently disorientated and dazed, we headed back for a final evening of chat before I left for Cambodia. And here I am!
I‘m not sure how much I’ll be able to update this bad boy in the next month (you can breathe a collective sigh of relief) so see you when I see you. Wish me luck! And Merry Christmas!
Before I give you an account of my very brief encounter with Thailand, I would just like to make a little dedication to my great aunt Mary. She opened the doors to not only a new country, but also to a whole new side of our family for which I am so grateful, because they are all rather fabulous characters. She was a cracking lady and I hope that I am still climbing mountains and swimming in the sea at 6am when I hit my 80s.
So, yes, my week in Thailand. Well, I hate-but really I mean love-to report that the large majority of my time was spent lazing around on the beach. Sorry! The day after my epic stroll through Bangkok, I went to meet an old friend from uni. He has significantly higher standards than I do, so I found myself in a very fancy hotel, jumping on a bed which was big enough for Henry the VIII and all his wives. Saying that, all of them in a bed at one time would be a very gory affair, given that he beheaded a couple of them. But there would have been more than enough space for the bodies and their heads, and any other heads lying around. Ok, be quiet now, brain. Anyway, after seeing that the bed was a great bed for jumping on, I thought I would check out the rooftop pool (I told you-high standards). Well that plan was tragically poo-pooed when I realised that I was incapable of working the lift. So I just hung around in the room- I didn‘t even want to look at that stupid pool anyway. Once my friend arrived, the evening was spent reminiscing about uni and laughing about how out of touch with the world I am.
The next day, it was beach tiiiiiime! This will be a very short section because really, what can I say? We were in a beach bungalow, 2 seconds from the sea, with nothing to do but relax and watch the world, and the Russians, go by. It was ridiculously lazy. So much so that I was slightly ashamed at how little I did. But before you shake your heads and judge me, remember that I am on the cusp of a world of bike-induced pain!
Upon returning to Bangkok, after yet another bump-tastic bus ride, we headed over to MBK, a.k.a. the best place to buy everything you will never need in life. And I mean everything. It was like a flippin labyrinth. I was really hoping that David Bowie would pop up in his Jared The Goblin King outfit and sing about the babe with the power of voodoo. Sadly, this dream was not fulfilled-instead, I was faced with stall upon stall of, well, stuff. It was a little overwhelming for provincial bumpkins like myself, but my friend was in his element and came away with some pretty decent fake Rolexes. Once we were sufficiently disorientated and dazed, we headed back for a final evening of chat before I left for Cambodia. And here I am!
I‘m not sure how much I’ll be able to update this bad boy in the next month (you can breathe a collective sigh of relief) so see you when I see you. Wish me luck! And Merry Christmas!
Sunday, 15 December 2013
And so begins my fleeting romance with Thailand
Lawwwwdy, Bangkok is big. And hot, very, very hot. Having spent the day walking around yesterday, I've come to the realisation that Bangkok is not an ideal destination for those who have little money to their name. I'm not a big shopper, but I even I was tempted to just to empty my bank account and throw money at almost every stand I passed at the market I visited, gleefully yelling "I may have no money left, but look at alllll the beautiful t-shirts I have. La la la la". I managed to control that urge, mainly because I was hungry and so decided that, in that moment, food was preferable to a traditional Thai silk suit (which I would have bought otherwise, obviously, and paraded around Braunschweig in).
I arrived here the day before yesterday, after a very short flight from Saigon. The last day in Saigon was unexpectedly busy: I had banked on just a bit of shopping, a lot of eating, and a great deal of overheating, but Saigon had other plans for us. First of all, culture was the name of the game, and we dawdled off to the War Remnants museum, wholly unaware of what awaited us. I don't really want to write too much about it, because it really was quite harrowing. It was definitely an effective exhibition, but it was incredibly difficult to look at.
After that, we both needed a pick me up, so we went off in search of everyone's favourite friends, carbs and sugar. Sugar arrived in the form of a totally ridiculous oreo-flavoured drink. Actually, drink is not the right word: it was more like a huge melted ice cream with oreos in it. That lasted all of ten minutes (by which, I mean 5) once it came to the table. Fin wasn't too keen on the idea of a sugar coma and instead, opted for that Vietnamese classic, a bacon sandwich. It was a fine specimen, I must say and from the ensuing silence, I think Fin enjoyed it as well. That too was devoured at lightning speed. A couple of hours later, we headed out to meet a friend and for our last meal together in Vietnam. To mark this momentous occasion, we naturally went to a French cafe- tres normal. The night ended in an airplane themed bar, where all the staff were dressed as air stewards. And that, dear friends, was that for Vietnam.
Bangkok is like another world. Unfortunately for my hair, and general outward appearance, the heat and humidity is even more intense than in Saigon. It's lucky I'm not out here looking for male attention, because I have a feeling that I would scare the living daylights out of any poor, unsuspecting objects of my desire. Having made some strategic allies on the plane (this was when I still looked vaguely normal), I was at least confident that I would eventually make it to my hostel and not end up wandering some back alley like the Wild Woman of the West. My comrades and I spent the afternoon and evening together, sampling the delights of the famous Khao San Road: gangs of giant, loud lads in singlets, girls in barely-there shorts, older gents prowling around for young meat- a real treat. Well, less treat, more awful, seedy horror. I called it a night and thankfully found my way back to the hostel without a single wrong turn! Be proud, dear parents.
As I said, yesterday was full of walking. 7 hours to be precise. In 32 degree heat to be even more precise. Despite that, it was very enjoyable to see the city alone but I must have looked like a total madwoman: every time I checked the map and realised I was exactly where I wanted to be, I couldn't help but grin and nod in self-congratulation. Sometimes I even threw in a little celebratory hand gesture. No wonder no-one spoke to me all day. The only time I had a slight panic was when I couldn't find the way out of a shopping centre, but we've all been there, right?
Hope everyone is well and in the festive spirit!
I arrived here the day before yesterday, after a very short flight from Saigon. The last day in Saigon was unexpectedly busy: I had banked on just a bit of shopping, a lot of eating, and a great deal of overheating, but Saigon had other plans for us. First of all, culture was the name of the game, and we dawdled off to the War Remnants museum, wholly unaware of what awaited us. I don't really want to write too much about it, because it really was quite harrowing. It was definitely an effective exhibition, but it was incredibly difficult to look at.
After that, we both needed a pick me up, so we went off in search of everyone's favourite friends, carbs and sugar. Sugar arrived in the form of a totally ridiculous oreo-flavoured drink. Actually, drink is not the right word: it was more like a huge melted ice cream with oreos in it. That lasted all of ten minutes (by which, I mean 5) once it came to the table. Fin wasn't too keen on the idea of a sugar coma and instead, opted for that Vietnamese classic, a bacon sandwich. It was a fine specimen, I must say and from the ensuing silence, I think Fin enjoyed it as well. That too was devoured at lightning speed. A couple of hours later, we headed out to meet a friend and for our last meal together in Vietnam. To mark this momentous occasion, we naturally went to a French cafe- tres normal. The night ended in an airplane themed bar, where all the staff were dressed as air stewards. And that, dear friends, was that for Vietnam.
Bangkok is like another world. Unfortunately for my hair, and general outward appearance, the heat and humidity is even more intense than in Saigon. It's lucky I'm not out here looking for male attention, because I have a feeling that I would scare the living daylights out of any poor, unsuspecting objects of my desire. Having made some strategic allies on the plane (this was when I still looked vaguely normal), I was at least confident that I would eventually make it to my hostel and not end up wandering some back alley like the Wild Woman of the West. My comrades and I spent the afternoon and evening together, sampling the delights of the famous Khao San Road: gangs of giant, loud lads in singlets, girls in barely-there shorts, older gents prowling around for young meat- a real treat. Well, less treat, more awful, seedy horror. I called it a night and thankfully found my way back to the hostel without a single wrong turn! Be proud, dear parents.
As I said, yesterday was full of walking. 7 hours to be precise. In 32 degree heat to be even more precise. Despite that, it was very enjoyable to see the city alone but I must have looked like a total madwoman: every time I checked the map and realised I was exactly where I wanted to be, I couldn't help but grin and nod in self-congratulation. Sometimes I even threw in a little celebratory hand gesture. No wonder no-one spoke to me all day. The only time I had a slight panic was when I couldn't find the way out of a shopping centre, but we've all been there, right?
Hope everyone is well and in the festive spirit!
Thursday, 12 December 2013
Saigon, farewell, aufwiedersehen, goodbye....
Yes, that was another 'Sound of Music' related element for you, and quite an excellent one, in my humble opinion. If anyone hasn't seen that film, consider your new awareness of it my Christmas gift to you. You're eternally welcome.
So here we are in Saigon, and today is the last day of our Vietnam adventure. We had a (distinctly urine free) bus trip here from Mui Ne, which felt like it lasted forever but was actually over in the blink of an eye-if a blink lasts 6 hours, that is. We had some fun pit stops along the way, one of which was more than a little worrying when, upon returning to the bus, one of the wheels appeared to be missing. I'm no expert, but I recall a wheel being quite a key element to the movement of a bus. So we had to hang around a Vietnamese service station for a while, which was nice. All the Germans on the bus were, of course, watching the mechanics go to work on the wheel-clearly, the love of watching any kind of construction or engineering remains firmly in tact even when they are so far from home. Finally we arrived at around 8.30 in the evening and dandered off to the hostel, where we were greeted with a banana and iced tea which delightful, as I was once again on the advanced stages of rumbling tum syndrome. After a dinner of noodle soup and a wander around, we crashed into a nice long sleep.
The next day was spent doing a little walking tour of Saigon. It is really a very big city. And humid, so very humid. Unfortunately both of us seem to have inherited the family trait of hair that doesn't withstand humidity so well, so over the day, our hair increased in volume (outwards and upwards) until we looked a bit like we were wearing small beefeater hats. But it was just our hair. We saw lots of old buildings which were, you know, old and stuff-very nice! The walk ended with a drink in very extravagant style; in a rooftop bar for which were completely and utterly underdressed. We paid through the nose for a beer and a coffee (I sounded a lot like my dad when we got the bill: "How much?!") but the view was spectacular so it was almost, maybe worth it. We took as long as humanly possible to drink our drinks and then sat for while longer, probably an inappropriately long time, just looking at the view. The rest of the afternoon was spent just meandering, checking out the city and burning nicely in the heat. All of these effort-heavy activities were carried out with one specific purpose in mind: to get as hungry possible. Strange aim, right? Wrong! There was method in the madness, for once in my life! That evening was the Mack Daddy of activities: a 4.5 hour long street food tour of the city, courtesy of my dear sister and aunt.
As pick up time rolled around, I could have chewed the leg off a chair, to be quite honest, but I abstained and waited patiently for all the goodness to get in my bellllly. We were picked up by two young chicas on motorbikes (I think this was the highlight of the whole experience for Fin) and zoomed off to our first stop, where we met the other people on the tour, i.e. Australia. The mother and son pair we sat next to were quite a treat, the son revelling in the stories his loving mother was telling about how often they had been asked if they were a couple. It was especially good for him as he is in that stage in life where everything, ever, is awkward. Fin should count himself lucky that he is not 16 and embarrassed by life (and his big cousin) anymore , which I did not hesitate to remind him. That comment was met with a look which said 'You will never stop embarrassing me'. Our first dish was a soup called bun bo hue: pretty much beef noodle soup but more delicious than you are probably imagining right now. I won't go into great detail about the whole tour, but other culinary delights included BBQ goat breast, grilled frogs, prawns, clams in a magical broth of ginger, chilli and lemongrass, quails (Fin thinks they were bats. I chose to ignore this remark), scallops and coconut jelly. However delicious all of these things were, the memory of them will forever be eclipsed by the single weirdest thing I have ever tried. Let me help you imagine it: think of a duck egg, a boiled duck egg, and put it there in front of you on the imaginary table. Then tap the top and open that bad boy up. Take a peek inside and yes, there is some yellow and some white bits. So far so good. But wait a second, what, pray tell, is that dark grey bit lurking in the middle? Grab your spoon and have a poke around-any ideas yet? Look closer and you will see the teeny tiny beginnings of a beak, some things which look uncannily like feathers and some little wing like shapes. Oh yes yes, nothing other than a baby duck, which in normal circumstances would not be wholly abnormal to find in a duck egg, but when you hope to eat the egg, it is quite an unpleasant surprise. I probably should have refused to eat it, but I was feeling very gung-ho so I did indeed have a few spoonfuls of it. The taste was very bizarre and quite impossible to describe. The texture was like putting hardboiled egg, pate and a little bit of raw spaghetti in your mouth at the same time, then chomping the Dickens out of it and forcing it down your food pipe. Fertilised duck egg, it transpires, is not my favourite food. That was more or less the end of the tour: we were taken back to our hostel where we fell into a food coma and had nightmares of being killed by legions of duck embryos.
Yesterday was spent recovering from the previous evening. We skipped breakfast and went out for a wander in the sun, ending up in an afternoon viewing of 'The Hunger Games', which was actually very enjoyable. I will say one thing, though: the Vietnamese are chatty Cathys in the cinema. Those of you who know me well can imagine how much I loved that (i.e. not at all). The evening was spent drinking beer, people watching and eavesdropping on a very posh chap and his Vietnamese girlfriend. Apparently, his mumm-ehhhh laaahhhves her (to us normal people, his mummy (!!) loves her). Before we knew it, we were tucked up safely in bed, listening to the other girl in the dorm snoring like a bulldozer.
Today, our last day, will be spent shopping and getting our final fix of Vietnamese grub, until we part ways tomorrow. I won't get too nostalgic on you but I just wanted to sum up this month: Vietnam is beautiful, crazy, loud, delicious, intriguing, aromatic, and so much more. We've both loved it and have agreed that it's a place to come back to and explore other parts. I cannot recommend it enough, but it feels like it is on the verge of something huge (and not necessarily good), so get your butts over here before everyone else in the world beats you to it! Fin has done well to put up with me and I'm pretty sure that without him, I'd be lost somewhere in some random city, buying something from every person who tried to sell me stuff.
In a word, this month has been-drumroll please...VIETNAMAZING. HAHAHAHAHAHA! See you in Thailand!
So here we are in Saigon, and today is the last day of our Vietnam adventure. We had a (distinctly urine free) bus trip here from Mui Ne, which felt like it lasted forever but was actually over in the blink of an eye-if a blink lasts 6 hours, that is. We had some fun pit stops along the way, one of which was more than a little worrying when, upon returning to the bus, one of the wheels appeared to be missing. I'm no expert, but I recall a wheel being quite a key element to the movement of a bus. So we had to hang around a Vietnamese service station for a while, which was nice. All the Germans on the bus were, of course, watching the mechanics go to work on the wheel-clearly, the love of watching any kind of construction or engineering remains firmly in tact even when they are so far from home. Finally we arrived at around 8.30 in the evening and dandered off to the hostel, where we were greeted with a banana and iced tea which delightful, as I was once again on the advanced stages of rumbling tum syndrome. After a dinner of noodle soup and a wander around, we crashed into a nice long sleep.
The next day was spent doing a little walking tour of Saigon. It is really a very big city. And humid, so very humid. Unfortunately both of us seem to have inherited the family trait of hair that doesn't withstand humidity so well, so over the day, our hair increased in volume (outwards and upwards) until we looked a bit like we were wearing small beefeater hats. But it was just our hair. We saw lots of old buildings which were, you know, old and stuff-very nice! The walk ended with a drink in very extravagant style; in a rooftop bar for which were completely and utterly underdressed. We paid through the nose for a beer and a coffee (I sounded a lot like my dad when we got the bill: "How much?!") but the view was spectacular so it was almost, maybe worth it. We took as long as humanly possible to drink our drinks and then sat for while longer, probably an inappropriately long time, just looking at the view. The rest of the afternoon was spent just meandering, checking out the city and burning nicely in the heat. All of these effort-heavy activities were carried out with one specific purpose in mind: to get as hungry possible. Strange aim, right? Wrong! There was method in the madness, for once in my life! That evening was the Mack Daddy of activities: a 4.5 hour long street food tour of the city, courtesy of my dear sister and aunt.
As pick up time rolled around, I could have chewed the leg off a chair, to be quite honest, but I abstained and waited patiently for all the goodness to get in my bellllly. We were picked up by two young chicas on motorbikes (I think this was the highlight of the whole experience for Fin) and zoomed off to our first stop, where we met the other people on the tour, i.e. Australia. The mother and son pair we sat next to were quite a treat, the son revelling in the stories his loving mother was telling about how often they had been asked if they were a couple. It was especially good for him as he is in that stage in life where everything, ever, is awkward. Fin should count himself lucky that he is not 16 and embarrassed by life (and his big cousin) anymore , which I did not hesitate to remind him. That comment was met with a look which said 'You will never stop embarrassing me'. Our first dish was a soup called bun bo hue: pretty much beef noodle soup but more delicious than you are probably imagining right now. I won't go into great detail about the whole tour, but other culinary delights included BBQ goat breast, grilled frogs, prawns, clams in a magical broth of ginger, chilli and lemongrass, quails (Fin thinks they were bats. I chose to ignore this remark), scallops and coconut jelly. However delicious all of these things were, the memory of them will forever be eclipsed by the single weirdest thing I have ever tried. Let me help you imagine it: think of a duck egg, a boiled duck egg, and put it there in front of you on the imaginary table. Then tap the top and open that bad boy up. Take a peek inside and yes, there is some yellow and some white bits. So far so good. But wait a second, what, pray tell, is that dark grey bit lurking in the middle? Grab your spoon and have a poke around-any ideas yet? Look closer and you will see the teeny tiny beginnings of a beak, some things which look uncannily like feathers and some little wing like shapes. Oh yes yes, nothing other than a baby duck, which in normal circumstances would not be wholly abnormal to find in a duck egg, but when you hope to eat the egg, it is quite an unpleasant surprise. I probably should have refused to eat it, but I was feeling very gung-ho so I did indeed have a few spoonfuls of it. The taste was very bizarre and quite impossible to describe. The texture was like putting hardboiled egg, pate and a little bit of raw spaghetti in your mouth at the same time, then chomping the Dickens out of it and forcing it down your food pipe. Fertilised duck egg, it transpires, is not my favourite food. That was more or less the end of the tour: we were taken back to our hostel where we fell into a food coma and had nightmares of being killed by legions of duck embryos.
Yesterday was spent recovering from the previous evening. We skipped breakfast and went out for a wander in the sun, ending up in an afternoon viewing of 'The Hunger Games', which was actually very enjoyable. I will say one thing, though: the Vietnamese are chatty Cathys in the cinema. Those of you who know me well can imagine how much I loved that (i.e. not at all). The evening was spent drinking beer, people watching and eavesdropping on a very posh chap and his Vietnamese girlfriend. Apparently, his mumm-ehhhh laaahhhves her (to us normal people, his mummy (!!) loves her). Before we knew it, we were tucked up safely in bed, listening to the other girl in the dorm snoring like a bulldozer.
Today, our last day, will be spent shopping and getting our final fix of Vietnamese grub, until we part ways tomorrow. I won't get too nostalgic on you but I just wanted to sum up this month: Vietnam is beautiful, crazy, loud, delicious, intriguing, aromatic, and so much more. We've both loved it and have agreed that it's a place to come back to and explore other parts. I cannot recommend it enough, but it feels like it is on the verge of something huge (and not necessarily good), so get your butts over here before everyone else in the world beats you to it! Fin has done well to put up with me and I'm pretty sure that without him, I'd be lost somewhere in some random city, buying something from every person who tried to sell me stuff.
In a word, this month has been-drumroll please...VIETNAMAZING. HAHAHAHAHAHA! See you in Thailand!
Monday, 9 December 2013
Who needs rollercoasters when you have a bus?
Rollercoasters? Forget it. Bungee jumping? For little girls. Skydiving? Borrrrrring! If you're looking for the ultimate in extreme sports, get on a mini bus in Vietnam-it's a thrill seekers dream. Too many people packed, and I mean PACKED, into a mini bus and taken on a ride from a town high in the mountains to a town at the coast. Ok, that doesn't sound so crazy, but throw in the elements of no seatbelts, air conditioning that felt like a dog was breathing on you and a road that was more pot hole than actual road and you have a recipe for a wild time. Also, the driver was quite insane. I was a little worried about the lack of seatbelts but actually, we were all sitting so close to each other that there was no chance of breaking free from the mass and being catapulted into the air. If you imagine a human game of tetris, you're along the right lines of the close proximity of one person to the next. There was no choice but to get cosy with your new neighbour which, as Brits, goes against everything we hold sacred (namely, the delight in sitting alone on public transport whenever possible so as not to have to talk to actual other human beings). A happy 6 hours!
We arrived in Mui Ne around 6pm and hopped on the back of a couple of mopeds to go to our hotel. We had a lovely detour along the main street before our drivers realised we were going in completely the wrong direction. Clearly, they were from the same school of orientation as my good self. We eventually found our place (Sunrise Village-yes, that is the name of the hotel and not the name of a 1970s soap opera) and were pretty much in and out within 30 seconds because my stomach was being very vocal about how empty it was feeling. Quite the belly operatics. We ate in a shack around the corner with, surprise surprise, most of Russia. Russians, I have realised, go quite a curious shade of red when they are released into the sun. And they appear to have some quality to their skin whereby they not only go red, but also shiny. So yes, we ate surrounded by a lot of red shiny people with mullets and a penchant for early 90s fashion.
The first full day in Mui Ne was relaxing as, errr, whales (like, whale music-you know what I mean, right?). We hit the beach and marvelled at all the shiny Russians, glistening in the sun like big, red, hairy rubies in speedos, and I had a swim in the sea. Fin didn't and later justified it by telling me that the South China Sea is essentially one massive sewerage tank, just stewing away, festering and slopping around in the heat. So then I went and had a bath in antibacterial handwash. Not really, but I was quite liberal with it for the rest of the afternoon. The rest of the day was similarly lazy-fascinating, I know.
Today, we did basically the only sightseeing that Mui Ne has to offer: some big sand dunes. As if that weren't thrilling enough, I'd also read that it's possible to go sledding down them, so with it being December, we decided to embrace the Christmas spirit and go sledging. We hired a motorcycle from the hotel and drove off into the unknown. It's pretty much one road to get there but I was navigating, so we could have ended up almost anywhere. Luckily, and quite astoundingly, we made it there with no problems-except for the minor point that the bike's brakes left a lot to be desired when it came to efficiency-but no accidents, so all was well. The sand dunes were mighty impressive, I must say. We were like Laurence and Lauren of Arabia, except neither of us is from Arabia, or called Laurence or Lauren. We were also not swathed in great, white robes. But apart from that, exactly the same. After being accosted by a monkey who was fiddling with his giblets and didn't care who the heck was watching, we took a couple of sand sleds (pieces of plastic) up the dunes, ready for the big fun! Well, it was entertaining, but for all the wrong reasons: it was impossible to get any speed going down and so it looked totally pathetic and slow, which was hilarious to watch. Also, it's a surefire way to clog every orifice of your body with burning sand, which is not the most comfortable of experiences. We hung around, watching the people 'russian' all over the place (like, rushing all over the place-get it???) and encasing ourselves in a layer of sand which will undoubtedly prove impossible to get rid of. When we felt that yes, sand is now literally everywhere on our bodies, we called it a day and had a glorious ride home, rewarding ourselves with a victory beer at the end.
We leave for Saigon tomorrow, where our trip will come to an end and we'll part ways. No wonder Fin is so chipper!
We arrived in Mui Ne around 6pm and hopped on the back of a couple of mopeds to go to our hotel. We had a lovely detour along the main street before our drivers realised we were going in completely the wrong direction. Clearly, they were from the same school of orientation as my good self. We eventually found our place (Sunrise Village-yes, that is the name of the hotel and not the name of a 1970s soap opera) and were pretty much in and out within 30 seconds because my stomach was being very vocal about how empty it was feeling. Quite the belly operatics. We ate in a shack around the corner with, surprise surprise, most of Russia. Russians, I have realised, go quite a curious shade of red when they are released into the sun. And they appear to have some quality to their skin whereby they not only go red, but also shiny. So yes, we ate surrounded by a lot of red shiny people with mullets and a penchant for early 90s fashion.
The first full day in Mui Ne was relaxing as, errr, whales (like, whale music-you know what I mean, right?). We hit the beach and marvelled at all the shiny Russians, glistening in the sun like big, red, hairy rubies in speedos, and I had a swim in the sea. Fin didn't and later justified it by telling me that the South China Sea is essentially one massive sewerage tank, just stewing away, festering and slopping around in the heat. So then I went and had a bath in antibacterial handwash. Not really, but I was quite liberal with it for the rest of the afternoon. The rest of the day was similarly lazy-fascinating, I know.
Today, we did basically the only sightseeing that Mui Ne has to offer: some big sand dunes. As if that weren't thrilling enough, I'd also read that it's possible to go sledding down them, so with it being December, we decided to embrace the Christmas spirit and go sledging. We hired a motorcycle from the hotel and drove off into the unknown. It's pretty much one road to get there but I was navigating, so we could have ended up almost anywhere. Luckily, and quite astoundingly, we made it there with no problems-except for the minor point that the bike's brakes left a lot to be desired when it came to efficiency-but no accidents, so all was well. The sand dunes were mighty impressive, I must say. We were like Laurence and Lauren of Arabia, except neither of us is from Arabia, or called Laurence or Lauren. We were also not swathed in great, white robes. But apart from that, exactly the same. After being accosted by a monkey who was fiddling with his giblets and didn't care who the heck was watching, we took a couple of sand sleds (pieces of plastic) up the dunes, ready for the big fun! Well, it was entertaining, but for all the wrong reasons: it was impossible to get any speed going down and so it looked totally pathetic and slow, which was hilarious to watch. Also, it's a surefire way to clog every orifice of your body with burning sand, which is not the most comfortable of experiences. We hung around, watching the people 'russian' all over the place (like, rushing all over the place-get it???) and encasing ourselves in a layer of sand which will undoubtedly prove impossible to get rid of. When we felt that yes, sand is now literally everywhere on our bodies, we called it a day and had a glorious ride home, rewarding ourselves with a victory beer at the end.
We leave for Saigon tomorrow, where our trip will come to an end and we'll part ways. No wonder Fin is so chipper!
Thursday, 5 December 2013
"No, I don't really want a 4m python around my ne....oh, ok, nevermind"
Prepare yourselves, fair reader(s), this might be a bit of a long entry: amazing what can happen in two short days on the back of a motorbike driven by a mad man. As a famous singing nun once, err, sang; let's start at the very beginning, a very good place to start (to those of you familiar with 'The Sound of Music', I apologise for getting 'Do Re Mi' stuck in your heads)...
The second day of our motorbike tour was ram-jimmy-jammed, mainly with a mix of terror and amazement. After breakfast in the hotel, we set off on the bikes, heading for a waterfall. Our guide, Minh ("like the same as Ho Chi Minh, but without the first and second bits"), had said that we could swim in the waterfall, should the mood overwhelm us. However, he also said that it would be quite cold and not really very sunny: every inch the salesman. So, it's fair to say we were less than brimming with enthusiasm at the prospect. When we got there, it was certainly beautiful-there was water falling all over the place-and despite saying we had a choice when it came to swimming, it transpired that the choice was swim or swim, or maybe even swim. We went for the third one and had a splash around for a while-it was very 'Mysterious Girl', except with less Peter Andre and faux Jamaican rappers. Having not dried off in the slightest, we put got dressed and back on the bikes for a very breezy ride to our next stop.
The next stop was an unadvertised surprise stop, and what a hoot it was. We pulled over at the side of the road ande ta daaaa, here was a man with a couple of pythons and a load of scorpions, all for us to enjoy. Again, the choice of what to do was somewhat limited. Actually, less limited, more non-existent, and within 2 minutes I was paralysed with fear with a gigantic snake around my head. Minh spotted a photo opportunity and put the head in my hand and held it close to my mouth for a kiss. Hilarious fun for all the family. Fin wasn't let off, either, and the python was soon plonked on his shoulders. This, evidently, was simply a starter before the main course, the overture before the show, the terrible roadie before the concert: the main event was indeed a whopping great 4m snake. I can't really recall any feeling, but luckily (!), Minh got his mits on my camera and documented that milestone in a series of photos worthy of the place above the fireplace. Or in the fire itself, either way (but mainly the latter). A scorpion also joined the party, having a little crawl around on my hand, while Fin stayed a manly 1m away from the whole fandango. Minh was laughing like a drain the whole time.
We drove and stopped and drove and stopped various times until we reached our destination for the day- a small village near a place called Lak Lake-and waiting for us, two big grey elephants, poised and ready for two ignorant Europeans to climb aboard. They are big, gorgeous, wrinkly beasties (the elephants, not us) and the experience didn't disappoint. How to describe it? It was ele-PHANTASTIC! Hahahaha-I've been saving that one up, just for you. It was wonderful though, plodding around and sloshing through the water. I wanted to give mine a big hug on the head, but that would have probably not been completely normal, so I abstained and settled for rubbing it behind the ears. I'm not totally sure if that is quite correct, either, now I think about it. That night, following a cracking dinner of ALL THE MEAT, we stayed in a traditional long house and prepared ourselves for the long day ahead.
I had a lovely sleep in the hut, but Fin kept seeing spiders every time he shut his eyes, so he didn't sleep quite as well. It was an absolutely beautiful morning, so the prospect of a day on the bike was looking very attractive. We zipped off and climbed up higher and higher into the mountains: now, I'm lucky to have seen some stunning places in my years on earth thus far- Wolfsburg, Charleloi, Westen-Super-Mare to name but a few-but the landscape today just had the edge. It's hard to describe it but it was spectacular. The road, however, was not, blessed with more potholes than a teenager recovering from a severe case of acne, so it was pretty slow going for a while. Despite the resulting pain in my bum, the scenery more than made up for it and I did a lot of gaping in amazement, which also provided some extra protein for the day in the form of various small flies. On the way to Dalat, our final destination, we stopped at a Buddhist temple and a silk factory. My my, that's an interesting process (genuinely)-I had no idea how silk was made, and now I do! You're welcome for that insightful musing, by the way.
Finally, after a long old day on the bikes and a couple of near breakdowns for Fin's, we reached Dalat at around 4pm. We said our farewells to Minh, and farewell to the cash that he pretty much demanded as a tip, and collapsed into a heap on the beds. It was certainly an interesting few days and we came across some colourful characters (an old German sex tourist, for example). Now I have decided that I will learn to ride a motorbike and travel the world, swishing my hair like a foxy biker chick every time I take off my helmet. Sadly, I didn't achieve that on this trip. My hair was painfully similar to that of 14 year old boy's. Great.
The second day of our motorbike tour was ram-jimmy-jammed, mainly with a mix of terror and amazement. After breakfast in the hotel, we set off on the bikes, heading for a waterfall. Our guide, Minh ("like the same as Ho Chi Minh, but without the first and second bits"), had said that we could swim in the waterfall, should the mood overwhelm us. However, he also said that it would be quite cold and not really very sunny: every inch the salesman. So, it's fair to say we were less than brimming with enthusiasm at the prospect. When we got there, it was certainly beautiful-there was water falling all over the place-and despite saying we had a choice when it came to swimming, it transpired that the choice was swim or swim, or maybe even swim. We went for the third one and had a splash around for a while-it was very 'Mysterious Girl', except with less Peter Andre and faux Jamaican rappers. Having not dried off in the slightest, we put got dressed and back on the bikes for a very breezy ride to our next stop.
The next stop was an unadvertised surprise stop, and what a hoot it was. We pulled over at the side of the road ande ta daaaa, here was a man with a couple of pythons and a load of scorpions, all for us to enjoy. Again, the choice of what to do was somewhat limited. Actually, less limited, more non-existent, and within 2 minutes I was paralysed with fear with a gigantic snake around my head. Minh spotted a photo opportunity and put the head in my hand and held it close to my mouth for a kiss. Hilarious fun for all the family. Fin wasn't let off, either, and the python was soon plonked on his shoulders. This, evidently, was simply a starter before the main course, the overture before the show, the terrible roadie before the concert: the main event was indeed a whopping great 4m snake. I can't really recall any feeling, but luckily (!), Minh got his mits on my camera and documented that milestone in a series of photos worthy of the place above the fireplace. Or in the fire itself, either way (but mainly the latter). A scorpion also joined the party, having a little crawl around on my hand, while Fin stayed a manly 1m away from the whole fandango. Minh was laughing like a drain the whole time.
We drove and stopped and drove and stopped various times until we reached our destination for the day- a small village near a place called Lak Lake-and waiting for us, two big grey elephants, poised and ready for two ignorant Europeans to climb aboard. They are big, gorgeous, wrinkly beasties (the elephants, not us) and the experience didn't disappoint. How to describe it? It was ele-PHANTASTIC! Hahahaha-I've been saving that one up, just for you. It was wonderful though, plodding around and sloshing through the water. I wanted to give mine a big hug on the head, but that would have probably not been completely normal, so I abstained and settled for rubbing it behind the ears. I'm not totally sure if that is quite correct, either, now I think about it. That night, following a cracking dinner of ALL THE MEAT, we stayed in a traditional long house and prepared ourselves for the long day ahead.
I had a lovely sleep in the hut, but Fin kept seeing spiders every time he shut his eyes, so he didn't sleep quite as well. It was an absolutely beautiful morning, so the prospect of a day on the bike was looking very attractive. We zipped off and climbed up higher and higher into the mountains: now, I'm lucky to have seen some stunning places in my years on earth thus far- Wolfsburg, Charleloi, Westen-Super-Mare to name but a few-but the landscape today just had the edge. It's hard to describe it but it was spectacular. The road, however, was not, blessed with more potholes than a teenager recovering from a severe case of acne, so it was pretty slow going for a while. Despite the resulting pain in my bum, the scenery more than made up for it and I did a lot of gaping in amazement, which also provided some extra protein for the day in the form of various small flies. On the way to Dalat, our final destination, we stopped at a Buddhist temple and a silk factory. My my, that's an interesting process (genuinely)-I had no idea how silk was made, and now I do! You're welcome for that insightful musing, by the way.
Finally, after a long old day on the bikes and a couple of near breakdowns for Fin's, we reached Dalat at around 4pm. We said our farewells to Minh, and farewell to the cash that he pretty much demanded as a tip, and collapsed into a heap on the beds. It was certainly an interesting few days and we came across some colourful characters (an old German sex tourist, for example). Now I have decided that I will learn to ride a motorbike and travel the world, swishing my hair like a foxy biker chick every time I take off my helmet. Sadly, I didn't achieve that on this trip. My hair was painfully similar to that of 14 year old boy's. Great.
Tuesday, 3 December 2013
The (sitting on a back of a) motorcycle diaries
Hello and greetings from Buon Ma Thout, the capital of the Central Highlands.
We have had a funny few days (when is that not the case) and I've swiped Fin's tablet to tell you about all the high jinks, japes and insulting Vietnamese men.
Where did I leave off? I think it was in Hoi An- I know I've said it before but it really is an absolute delight. You could eat there for days and never eat the same thing. That's what I did, and is indeed my intention for the rest of the trip. Scrap that, life! Give me all the animal insides you want-I'm sure they can't be so offal. BOOM BOOM! I hope someone understood that joke, otherwise I now probably come across as slightly unhinged, which is completely uncharacteristic as we all know. We spent our last day waiting 8 hours for a taxi to the train station, which translated into a lot of drinks and pool in various cafés. Not too shabby, especially given that, surprise surprise, it was raining. When the sacred moment finally arrived, we were bundled off to Danang train station with four Kiwi girls. Fin's dream, perhaps? Mais non! They were completely insane and talked so much even I couldn't get a word in, so Fin spent the ride looking bewildered and that he might jump out of the window at some point. Upon arriving in Danang, after breaking the mini van taxi, we were treated to over an hour of saxophone Christmas classics on the loudspeaker in a station which smelt very strongly of artificial cinnamon. Finally, the Christmas spirit had reached us! The train itself was not as luxurious as we'd hoped. Fin even had a lovely gift of what he thought might be half a bottle of wee on his bed, so we were pleased as punch to be spending the next 10 hours in this glorified toilet with beds.
We arrived in Nha Trang at around 7.30am, bright eyed and bushy tailed, as you can imagine. We decided to forego the taxi mafia in favour for a nice stroll to our hotel, and pretty hastily regretted the decision as, even at that time, it was more humid than our Northern European temperature centres were used to. Despite that, we powered through and sweated our way to a café for breakfast, before heading to our hotel (The Ruby Hotel-every bit as glamorous as it sounds, I can assure you). We dumped our stuff, wolfed the rest of the Oreos and peanut M&Ms we had bought as midnight train snacks and ventured out into the town. Lordski, it is weirdski in the extremeski. For those who aren't aware, that was some perfect Russian right there. Translated, it means 'Lord, it is weird in the extreme'. It is like an entire Russian town went on holiday to Vietnam: but literally the whole town, buildings and restaurants included. Russian is flippin EVERYWHERE and almost every white person you meet on the beach is from Russia. I can tell you with great authority that speedos are still very much 'du jour' with Russian men, especially ones which are a bit on the tight side so their beautifully sculpted bellies tumble over the top like a cascading waterfall of jiggly flesh. It's a sight to behold. Not a nice sight, but a sight all the same.
Close to our hotel we were stopped in our tracks by a mad man on a motorbike who launched into a full scale comedy sales routine, complete with poetry, slang and insults, all delivered in a Vietnamese/cockney accent, if you can even imagine such a thing. Turns out he was an 'Easy Rider'-guys who take tourists on tours (astounding, I know) on motorbikes. Without really knowing what was happening , we were on his bike and in his cousin's restaurant discussing the details of his offer over a free coffee. He (Papa Hanh) was certainly quite a character and his English vocabulary one of the more exotic I've come across, but he seemed like a good guy, so we said we'd have a think about doing a tour with him. We'd THINK about it. Remember that detail.
After wandering around and deciding that Nha Trang is quite ugly and simply baffling, I thought to enquire with another Easy Rider group. Another enthusiastic salesman, who kept calling me Fin's wife (disturbing), but this guy had a licence, which totally sold it to me-obviously it's impossible for people to get fake licences to show to unknowing tourists. After a quick deliberation and google search, we picked the second company and I went to sort the details. Done and dusted, easy peasy. Until I got back to the hotel. Old Papa Hanh had followed me back to the hotel and asked whether we had decided what we were going to do: I was rumbled. The sneaky Papa had seen me sort the other tour and wanted revenge. His revenge mainly consisted of a lot of incomprehensible swearing and hand gestures, probably not very nice hand gestures, and then off he went. Gutted we didn't go with him! The rest of the day was spent marvelling at the weirdness of the town, eating Pringles and watching some English guys try to chat up some Norwegian girls who were are lot more attractive than them. For you nosy parkers, we left so I don't know the outcome of their efforts. I expect they were not successful.
Today we had an early start, accompanied by some rousing Communist music outside, and went to the tour office. After brekkie, Fin was given his bike (because he, apparently, can ride a motorbike) and I was shown the bike which I would be sitting on, holding on for dear life. And that was it, we were off! It was a great trip, up into the central highlands, with regular stops to eat, drink, look at things and say 'ahhhh, interesting' and 'wow, that's fascinating '. They genuinely were, though: here's a fun fact for you-raw cocoa beans are surrounded by a white, slimy covering which you can eat and it tastes like mango! Take that one to the pub quiz, why don't you (although the question would have to be mighty specific for that to be the answer)? We were on the road for about 6 or 7 hours and it was great. Fin looked like a proper dude on his bike and I looked every inch the elegant, exotic lady, swinging my leg over the side and shuffling my arse to get in the right sitting position. High heels would have been ideal in my situation. We are off out for tea with the guide in a bit and then tomorrow it's onward and upward, and onto an elephant. Yes, an elephant. Could be interesting.
We have had a funny few days (when is that not the case) and I've swiped Fin's tablet to tell you about all the high jinks, japes and insulting Vietnamese men.
Where did I leave off? I think it was in Hoi An- I know I've said it before but it really is an absolute delight. You could eat there for days and never eat the same thing. That's what I did, and is indeed my intention for the rest of the trip. Scrap that, life! Give me all the animal insides you want-I'm sure they can't be so offal. BOOM BOOM! I hope someone understood that joke, otherwise I now probably come across as slightly unhinged, which is completely uncharacteristic as we all know. We spent our last day waiting 8 hours for a taxi to the train station, which translated into a lot of drinks and pool in various cafés. Not too shabby, especially given that, surprise surprise, it was raining. When the sacred moment finally arrived, we were bundled off to Danang train station with four Kiwi girls. Fin's dream, perhaps? Mais non! They were completely insane and talked so much even I couldn't get a word in, so Fin spent the ride looking bewildered and that he might jump out of the window at some point. Upon arriving in Danang, after breaking the mini van taxi, we were treated to over an hour of saxophone Christmas classics on the loudspeaker in a station which smelt very strongly of artificial cinnamon. Finally, the Christmas spirit had reached us! The train itself was not as luxurious as we'd hoped. Fin even had a lovely gift of what he thought might be half a bottle of wee on his bed, so we were pleased as punch to be spending the next 10 hours in this glorified toilet with beds.
We arrived in Nha Trang at around 7.30am, bright eyed and bushy tailed, as you can imagine. We decided to forego the taxi mafia in favour for a nice stroll to our hotel, and pretty hastily regretted the decision as, even at that time, it was more humid than our Northern European temperature centres were used to. Despite that, we powered through and sweated our way to a café for breakfast, before heading to our hotel (The Ruby Hotel-every bit as glamorous as it sounds, I can assure you). We dumped our stuff, wolfed the rest of the Oreos and peanut M&Ms we had bought as midnight train snacks and ventured out into the town. Lordski, it is weirdski in the extremeski. For those who aren't aware, that was some perfect Russian right there. Translated, it means 'Lord, it is weird in the extreme'. It is like an entire Russian town went on holiday to Vietnam: but literally the whole town, buildings and restaurants included. Russian is flippin EVERYWHERE and almost every white person you meet on the beach is from Russia. I can tell you with great authority that speedos are still very much 'du jour' with Russian men, especially ones which are a bit on the tight side so their beautifully sculpted bellies tumble over the top like a cascading waterfall of jiggly flesh. It's a sight to behold. Not a nice sight, but a sight all the same.
Close to our hotel we were stopped in our tracks by a mad man on a motorbike who launched into a full scale comedy sales routine, complete with poetry, slang and insults, all delivered in a Vietnamese/cockney accent, if you can even imagine such a thing. Turns out he was an 'Easy Rider'-guys who take tourists on tours (astounding, I know) on motorbikes. Without really knowing what was happening , we were on his bike and in his cousin's restaurant discussing the details of his offer over a free coffee. He (Papa Hanh) was certainly quite a character and his English vocabulary one of the more exotic I've come across, but he seemed like a good guy, so we said we'd have a think about doing a tour with him. We'd THINK about it. Remember that detail.
After wandering around and deciding that Nha Trang is quite ugly and simply baffling, I thought to enquire with another Easy Rider group. Another enthusiastic salesman, who kept calling me Fin's wife (disturbing), but this guy had a licence, which totally sold it to me-obviously it's impossible for people to get fake licences to show to unknowing tourists. After a quick deliberation and google search, we picked the second company and I went to sort the details. Done and dusted, easy peasy. Until I got back to the hotel. Old Papa Hanh had followed me back to the hotel and asked whether we had decided what we were going to do: I was rumbled. The sneaky Papa had seen me sort the other tour and wanted revenge. His revenge mainly consisted of a lot of incomprehensible swearing and hand gestures, probably not very nice hand gestures, and then off he went. Gutted we didn't go with him! The rest of the day was spent marvelling at the weirdness of the town, eating Pringles and watching some English guys try to chat up some Norwegian girls who were are lot more attractive than them. For you nosy parkers, we left so I don't know the outcome of their efforts. I expect they were not successful.
Today we had an early start, accompanied by some rousing Communist music outside, and went to the tour office. After brekkie, Fin was given his bike (because he, apparently, can ride a motorbike) and I was shown the bike which I would be sitting on, holding on for dear life. And that was it, we were off! It was a great trip, up into the central highlands, with regular stops to eat, drink, look at things and say 'ahhhh, interesting' and 'wow, that's fascinating '. They genuinely were, though: here's a fun fact for you-raw cocoa beans are surrounded by a white, slimy covering which you can eat and it tastes like mango! Take that one to the pub quiz, why don't you (although the question would have to be mighty specific for that to be the answer)? We were on the road for about 6 or 7 hours and it was great. Fin looked like a proper dude on his bike and I looked every inch the elegant, exotic lady, swinging my leg over the side and shuffling my arse to get in the right sitting position. High heels would have been ideal in my situation. We are off out for tea with the guide in a bit and then tomorrow it's onward and upward, and onto an elephant. Yes, an elephant. Could be interesting.
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