Rapid Catch up

We're now in Hue, Vietnam and here for five days before flying to Hanoi and Ha Long.

So there's lots to catch up on: Ho Chi Minh City where we stayed at the Svetlana ('Grand') Hotel – yes a bit Soviet Union – then the Reunification Express overnight from HCMC to Hoi An when we roomed up in a 4-berth sleeper with a little old Vietnamese lady with the flexibility (and skin almost) of a four-year-old who clearly was not too keen on sharing with two hulking great Westerners. She moaned constantly and groaned loudly when I planted a shoed foot on the bed to hoist myself inelegantly on to the top bunk. Her compatriot – a sweet and younger woman – obviously embarrassed, compensated by buying us some vietnamese milky coffee for breakfast. Mined was iced and lovely; Jenk's was hot and swamp water.

But back I should go to Siem Reap. We'd so looked forward to this – not just for the temples but of course this is where Gill and Lynda had spent 9 months volunteering. We wanted to get an idea of how they lived. Bloody well I should say. Siem Reap is a party town. We checked out some of their favourite haunts and recommendations including Dead Fish Tower which keeps a crocodile pit downstairs; plus numerous other eat and drinkeries. Slightly surprised at first at how opulent relatively speaking SR is – full of plush and big hotels, loads of bars and restaurants. Typically though for Cambodia you only have to move a street or two back and the poverty is overwhelming. In many ways I thought Cambodia more poor even than Laos – there is obviously much more money in Cambodia but the contrast rich/poor is stunning here. And the begging and the hassling is in a different league to any other part of Asia we've been to. As for that matter is the sex tourism – at least as overt as we saw in Thailand. We were there slap bang after the election – so stacks of propaganda everywhere – especially for the Cambodian People's Party – the winners of course. I'm plotting a pol com blog in the fullness.





Temples – awesome – and pix above of Angkor Wat, Angkor thom – my favourite and one of the wonderful jungle strangled temples. But Siem Reap so so hot and the temple tours – there are so many of them – take whole days, leave you drenched and exhausted. It was here that my skin eruptions started – and that started to slow us down a bit. We managed to catch up with a couple of Gill & Lynda's mates Pok & Tom – but missed out on a lot of stuff, and didn't get to see the shelter where they worked.



From Siem Reap to Phnom Penh by speedboat. A proper boat this time – not the Laos variety. Fab journey past the floating villages – and three hours to cross the colossal Tonle Sap lake. The river journey gives some idea of the poverty too in Cambodia – tin shanties for miles along the river banks as we close in on Phnom Penh.



From there the bus to Ho Chi Minh – by far the biggest, most prosperous and consumerised city we've seen since Bangkok. Hugely busy port on the Saigon River, masses of industry, department stores and shopping malls. Fantastic food here – but that has been true generally of Vietnam. The food easily the best we've had in Asia – aside from the wonderful Kampot pepper crab and the fish amok in Kep.

Corn plaster report: ah hah. Last blog had the prickly heat update. Aided by the steam room in the hotel Svetlana it transformed into a creature-from-the-deep outbreak. Industrial strength anti-allergens seem now to be working. I'm enjoying my new vampire like status – only coming out at night. Fellow travellers calling me 'the lady of the night'. It has a certain charm. Jenks in sympathy has come down with a full on cold. We are planning a dawn raid on the imperial city and ancient tombs tomorrow and will book some serious luxury to stay in Hanoi - just in case I'm still confined to th dark. Corn plasters - amazingly still haven't used em.

Footie update: watched us draw with Villa last night – for God's sake Rafa! Get a grip man.

Phnom Penh again

Back in Phnom Penh at the Billabong Guest House. It's our third time in the capital and we are back here for a couple of nights before we head to Vietnam. We've come to view it as home. We've a a good room by the pool and that's essential in PP. it's so sticky hot here. Siem Reap was blistering and we arrived by boat today and I was just working up to a cooling dip when the monsoon heavens opened again, crashed upon us with the wrath of God, got harder with thunder and lightning and since then the rain has not stopped. Jenks sparko out as I write; meanwhile I'm dispatching a Johnnie Walker Black, and searching the internet for hotels in Ho chi Minh city and cures for prickly heat.

So much to say about PP, Cambodia and Laos - the people, cultures, politics...but just at the moment it's those little things that are on my mind. Little things that you discover about yourselves. Like jenks' obsessive compulsive disorder with the washing. She opens her eyes in the morning, disappears into the bathroom for half an hour and emerges triumphantly declaring that's another six pairs of knickers off our laundry list. I meanwhile can't pass a pharmacy without wandering in stocking up on medicaments and always in the vain hope that there might be Dr Hauschka or MagicoolPlus maybe a little Clinique. I had the bright idea last night to try two different preparations on my heat prickled legs - I put calomine lotion on one and Savlon on the other. One leg showed definite improvement. Had I remembered which leg had which it would have been an excellent experiment.

jenks also has this thing going on about Wales. The whole of south east Asia brings new and hitherto unsuspected comparisons. Angkor Wat? "It's just like Neath Abby - only bigger". Wait till we hit New Zealand.

Love to you all. We'll be up late tonight catching Liverpool v Sunderland - about 11.30 here. The new season? Optimism of spirit, pessimism of the mind. Come on you Reds.

Kep. Cambodia

After the total chaos of Phnom Penh we are powering down in Kep – a sleepy little village by the sea famed only for its pepper crab and for the fact that it was once the hang out of Cambodian royalty before it got smashed to pieces by the Khmer Rouge. Tried the crab last night – wonderful meat and doubtless slimming since it took so much energy to extract. When I say powering down – no internet here, no newspapers and last night the few Tv channels gave out with the ominous warning on some that 'this channel not allowed in this country'. We had no way of knowing if this was a temporary blip or if the trouble at the border had spilled into outright war between Cambodia and Thailand. Slight uneasiness not helped by the soldiers with rifles loitering outside the crab restaurant.

Feels strange to be so far from news. I had to text Chris. He replied straight away Rangers 0 Liverpool 4. Retired to bed much comforted.


Rabbit Island





Fantastic to be beside the sea. The air so clean after Phnom Penh, the street – there is only one – so quiet. save for the breaking waves. We took a ferry across to Rabbit Island on Sunday – noted for its bathing beaches. As is the norm for us in Asia every trip is an adventure. We were talked into it by charming lad who met us off the bus from PP – and offered us a bargain price. Like very many lads we've met here, he has one thumbnail very long and scrupulously clean. A guitarist and budding rock star of course. A Cambodian version of 'Beautiful girl', sung in English although it's hard to tell, is the soundtrack here. Makes a nice change from Hotel California.

The young lad took us to the ferry dock on the back on his motorbike. Fortunately, he had a mate so that was a bike each for us. No crash helmets of course but a bike each was a bonus since three and often four per bike is normal. At the so-called dock it was the usual thing: scramble over rocks, wade through thigh high water, throw yourself into the boat – like gazelles we were. Jenks' swallow dive into the boat especially impressive and clearly a new technique for the nimble Cambodians. Rabbit Island was a delight. Goats, chickens and even cows meandered thru the coconut palms and hammocks. We floated for hours in the South china briny, lunched on fresh prawns and coconut water and then wandered back to the boat across the hillside path.
Then from nowhere came the monsoon rain. We waited wondering if we would have to shelter in the thatched huts overnight. Two by two the other passangers turned up since it turned out we had all been given different departure times. We watched the rain and a lonely paddle boat struggle thru the thundering waves. then it was our time to leave. Somehow I found myself sitting alone at the front of the boat. Rabbit Island is only about half an hour from Kep but as the boat heaved and threatened to capsize it looked an awfully long way off. Make it we did – drenched by the waves and for the first time in Asia cold from the wind. No fish for dinner that night – spaghetti please.

Vang Vieng: dump to delight

8 hour bus ride from Phonsovan to Vang Vieng, some of it above the clouds as we drive through the mountains. Apart from the magnificent views the journey memorable for the landslides and a huge boulder on the road – the product of three days monsoon rain. Oh and the co-pilot who hawked and gobbed continuously and displayed his roadie's arse at unscheduled comfort breaks by the roadside.

Our first sight of Vang Vieng not promising. We toured the few streets and found bar after bar full of listless young Western backpackers stretched out on mangey cushions watching Friends on continuous loop. Just about everyone we saw that night looked stoned or dealing. Found out later from a restaurant owner that VV came to notice from a piece in the Times when a travel writer reported the ready availability of opium. Bars quickly cashed in, offering 'happy menus' and 'happy shakes'. The river gangsters – as we came to see them – opened up makeshift bars along the banks of the Nam Song and rented out tyre inner tubes at extortionate prices so that kids could drift along the fast current topping up on booze and happy stuff along the way.

Spirits lift the next day. Breakfasted by the river under glorious sun over the awesome limestone karsts. Fantastic setting (see pic). Across the river the mountains, caves and immaculately tended paddy fields drew us in. We soon met some lovely people here. a young Lao, name charmingly pronounced Annoy, guided us on a 16km kayak ride down the river, told us his life story, his ambitions for university, and dazzled us with his athleticism as he somersaulted into the water off a high trapeze at a riverside bar. Also got friendly with a restaurant owner who served great food and was one of the few with no TV. amazing guy. Had lived in Bromley for 20 or so years before returning to Lao. Politically sharp, seemed to know everything that was going on in the town and supplied ad hoc medical care to the young Westerners who limped in with scrapes and bruises from the river tubing.

We ended up staying five days. Rented out scratchy old town bikes with no gears nor brakes and went touring through the rice fields to the caves. Jenks sure I was trying to kill her as of course we did this in the heat of the mid-day sun. The tubing looked so tempting at the end of that day. Had we stayed another day...well I'm sure we'd have gone tubing, and maybe slurping happy shakes and watching Friends with the best of them.

On our way out of our Guest House – the Elephant Crossing – bumped into Ivor Gaber and his wife Jane, touring S.East Asia for a few weeks. Small world.
Next stop – the capital Vientiane.

Phonsovan & Plain of Jars, Laos

Travel notes

Two nights in Phonsovan & Plain of Jars. This area - about 300 sq. kmetres the site of heavy fighting 1960-1970; civil war between Pathet Lao, Royalists and Hmong mountain tribes led by Vang Pao, financed by CIA. N. Vietnamese, Russians and CIA intervened; Ho Chi Minh trail ran through here and tracks and trenches still evident. US bombed the trail but also used site as a dumping ground for bombers offloading before they landed. The result, we were told was the equivalent of 10 Hiroshimas in bomb tonnage a day for about eight years.

war evidence everywhere, bomb craters, scrapyards full of military weaponry, bags of bullets many still with gunpowder, grenades, cluster bombs and landmines. Defoliants, agent orange etc stripped the hills bare of trees. Crops growing again. People turning war artillery to practical use. Our hotel, the auberge has a stripped down bomb casing as an ashtray; wooden thatched homes use the shells to prop up fences and buildings and melt down aluminium for spoons. the Mine Action Group working daily and we saw the UXO guys out clearing round a house.

Amazingly, the numbers of people injured by still live war ammo/bombs is increasing - one estimate about 300 a year. People get money for war scrap and so are willing to search it out and dig it up.

Laos - US secret war. Involvement there only just admitted. While we were there, US military had taken over the Vansana Hotel. They had deputation dealing with Missing In Action soldiers - apparently 4-5,000 MIAs in Laos.

Plain of Jars the Plain of Jars runs through the war site. Jars fascinating up close - if not in pix. 2000-4000 years old. several theories about what they are four, although our guide claims most likely used for offerings to the gods/spirits to protect the departed.

Travel notes:

People:

Lynda and Gill: old friends from London and fellow Liverpool supporters. Both experienced travellers round the world. Have spent the last nine months volunteering in Cambodia, teaching English to orphans in the poverty school and in a shelter for trafficked girls and young women. They return to England early August.

Places:

The journey so far:
Bangkok (4 nights)
Taxi to Khao Yai – 2-3 hours north east of Bangkok. UNESCO heritage site. One day trek in the jungle with fab guide – pronounced Nine – spelt no idea.Saw gibbons, hornbills, scorpions macaques. Went to the famous waterfall used in the film The Beach. Managed not to crack my toe on the rocks there. Managed to crack my toe later coming out of our bathroom at the Jungle Lodge. The lodge – more rooms with character and some Thai karaoke thrown in late into the night. Woke up to see three elephants wandering past our door.

Public bus back to Bangkok. A few hours to kill before the sleeper train to Chaing Mai. Saw the movie Wanted in a cinema in one of Bangkok's many air conditioned huge shopping malls. The cinema arranged like a first-class airline. Big plush seats more comfortable than most of the beds we've had here. Air conditioning freezing – but thoughtfully they'd provided quilts to keep us warm. Drinks served throughout the movie. The movie – rubbish.

Overnight to Chiang Mai. disappointing place. A few temples, and a modern part much like a very reduced Bangkok – heaps of markets, street food and bars, and sex tourism. We stayed in more rooms with character at the Royal Garden Lodge. Reasonable price but more than the nice cool, clean hotel with free wi-fi round the corner. Young backpackers aplenty here.

Next day: mini bus through the mountains to Pai. Wonderful four days relaxing there. Gorgeous rooms at the Pairadise Guest House and Bakery run by a German woman Kathrin and her Thai husband Pin, who designed the place himself and created a pond and spring water swimming pool out of the old rice fields. Unbelievable price – about £10 a day for two.

Night bus to Chiang Khong at the Thai-Laos border. Speed boat up the Mekong to Luang Prabang the ancient capital of Laos. Still here and will be till 21st July. Plan an elephant trek, maybe some kayaking and a visit to Buddhist cave. Fab place, fantastic food – Lao and French. We both had Lao massages. Slightly strange experience – but invigorating. Staying in Sayo river Guest House. Good rooms, balcony overlooking the Mekong. $40 a night.

Next stop – probably – Plain of Jars, then Vang Vieng, down to Vientiane and maybe sometime in the south of laos visiting limestone underground caves – 7 k of them.

Bright idea: how about a travel guide for the 40-50 somethings? Lonely Planet often out of date and caters for a mainly young backpackers. Saga too old. We want adventure and comfort with a little bit of sociability and rooms with character thrown in from time to time.

Corn plaster report: my rashes have mostly gone, face clear. Cracked toe almost better. Jenks' hearing a bit dodgy from day to day. Did something like a sprain to her arm sitting in the jacuzzi in Bangkok Marriott. Corn plasters – still carrying loads but amazingly have not needed to use them yet!

Top picture: our place in Pai
Bottom picture: the four of us (Lynda and Gill right) Buffalo Bar, Pai

Apocalypse Lao

am Luang Prabang, from our balcony. We arrived Monday up the Mekong by speed boat. It was six hours in the boat and for much of that time we seemed to have the Mekong to ourselves. Just mile after mile of mighty red river with an endless landscape of steep densely wooded hills on either side. For long stretches there was scarcely any signs of human life, just the occasional fishing canoe or tiny thatched hut hamlets.

It probably sounds romantic. We have called the trip Apocalypse Lao. We had been repeatedly scammed, fleeced for more dollars at every turn since we arrived at the Lao border after a 9 hour mini bus ride from Pai. The bus journey was standard; packed, a driver who went slow on the straights and like a maniac through the mountain hairpins; a drunken Irishwoman who never stopped talking until the valium kicked in and her friend who stopped the bus a couple of times to throw up. I managed some sleep only to wake to hear Gill whispering that the driver was 'drifting off' at the wheel. We arrived at Cheung kong at about 6 am, at the Thai border We'd booked our ticket all the way through from Pai to Luang Prabang. But of course, not so simple. our so-called guide dumped us down by the river – had to pay to take the ferry to Heuy Sai and Lao immigration – and just hope that once there the guide's 'sister' would take us to the speed boat pier.


The Lonely Planet guide warns that the Lao government has tried to stop speed boat trips for tourists. No wonder. The Mekong must be well over a 100 metres wide in places, currents are fast and sometimes flow in opposite directions, and it's dotted with eddies and whirlpools and rock formations that sometimes extend half the width of the river. Even before you get on the boat you have to negotiate what it is laughingly called the ferry pier – extraordinarily steep steps, at times with no hand rail, and then a wooden gang plank over the water to the jetty where aout half a dozen Lao locals and a lonely Japanese tourist had already been waiting for two hours. The speed boats will only travel with at least six passangers we were now told, and we were just four. We stared in disbelief. The boat was a motorised canoe,with a colossal Toyota 1.6 litre outboard engine. There is no way in god's earth you can pack six in there with all our luggage. For $45 dollars more Lynda manages to negotiate a boat for just the four of us.

We crammed in. The mangey life jackets brought no more protection than the crash helmets which threatened to strangle us if they didn't fly off our heads first. The boat set off at the speed of a Thorpe Park thrill ride. J and I were in the front part of the boat, and for the first hour cramp threatened every muscle below the waist, as despite Lynda's efforts a Lao man appeared out of nowhere to jump on board and hitch a ride. There we were squeezing limbs wherever we could find space, sitting virtually on the waterline, numbness spreading from bum to toe, calculating the chances of swimming to safety should the inevitable happen or if it shouldn't, how we could survive at least six more hours of this.

A few minutes later we arrive at a floating bar, where unbelievably Jenks decides to stand up in the boat and have a fag. Off we race again and then another stop seemingly in the middle of nowhere. The hitcher jumps out muttering something about monkeys and miming camera actions. And then a group of children appear from thin air – we give them a few baht for some tatty cloth bracelets – and they hang around the boat, a little boy tugging at our anchor and threatening to cast us adrift. The driver had disappeared, we had no idea how long we would be left there, we had no way out and nowhere to go. Jenks and I started humming the Deliverance banjo twang.

At long last the driver returned, minus hitching passenger – and we set off again Nearly two hours of breakneck speed, bouncing hard on the wash, skating between rocks and floating branches, before a lunch at a wooden way station on stilts in the river. There is no way Lynda, Jenks or I will eat anything. Amazingly Gill orders a bowl of noodle soup – and it looks delicious, accompanied by a plate piled high with fresh herbs.

A little later, and after the inevitable loo from hell experience we are back in a boat. Changed boat, and changed drivers – and a new passenger. This time a young Lao student who tells us he has a US embassy scholarship to study humanities in the university of Wyoming. We believe him because why would you make that up?

This time the boat speeds on without stopping all the way – almost – to Luang Prabang. We are starting to enjoy the ride. In fact we are now loving it. We have got used to the speed, the concrete hard bangs as the boat bounces, even the occasional sound of propeller scraping rock as the driver cuts it fine. There is very little margin for error on his part, but at least if we are now to die, none of us would have missed this experience.

We relax and enjoy the magical views, the sense of almost pre-history as we speed through miles and miles of forested hills most of which have never seen human habitation. Signs of life – and even modernity emerge more frequently as we near Luang Prabang. More boats, larger and better built villages, children playing on the river banks, villagers panhandling the river for what I don't know, maybe iron.

Disembarking was no easier than embarking. A bamboo jetty which sunk under our weight as we all stood on it. A clamber through mud to yet another set of dismayingly steep steps – for a couple of dollars are packs were carried for us. At the top, we were told 12 kilometres to Luang Prabang and 16 dollars for the tuktuk. Exhausted and fed up with being scammed for yet another bit extra, we got out and walked. At last we bargained a sensible price and arrived here in Luang Prabang.

Luang Prabang. The place is a jewel in the middle of nowhere. It is a world heritage site with ancient temples and pagodas and heavy French colonial influence. It is a beautiful and calm little town – and according to Australian tourism development worker I met yesterday it has become a tourist mecca in remarkably short time. Hardly any cars, just bikes in the town, plenty of cafes, a couple of excellent markets and loads and loads of little travel agencies offering elephant treks and white water rafting.

This is where Jenks and I will stay on for a few days and we part company with Lynda and Gill. They will be flying to malaysia in a few days and want to see a bit more of Laos first. We have learnt an awful lot from them about travelling, negotiating borders, finding decent fair-priced rooms, and bargaining in markets. They've left us pages of notes about Vietnam and Cambodia. Now we will take some time to plan the rest of stay in Laos – and our route to Vietnam – by plane I think – and avoiding land crossings where possible. But there is something abut the Mekong. We're already thinking of the fast boat to Cambodia.
Lots of love
Maggie & Lesley (jenks)