sea | vacation needed
Vacation needed? Aren't I on vacation?

I would argue that travelling is not a vacation. And I need to take a break. I'm flying from Hue to Hanoi today, two days early, and am looking to escape somewhere for a few days - perhaps Halong Bay/Cat Ba Island - and to try to feel like a real person again.

It could be the fault of Phuoc An, the hotel I stayed at in Hoi An. The motorbike driver (Thang, see more below) from Da Nang dropped me off there, coincidentally, since it was the same place Grace and Alonzo stayed the week before. Bargaining for a hotel room was a new experience, and I got them down to a pricy $12/night. But it was the nicest hotel experience I think I've ever had. I know it's not actually, but the contrast from the places before and since... It was beautifully furnished, with A/C and not only hot water and an attached bathroom, but a spotless attached bathroom with a TUB. And HBO - in english. And a pool. And free breakfast. And no insects to be seen, and no lizards climbing the walls (although I actually kind of like the nightly lizards).

I'd been priding myself on what I could do with up until this point, and then, experiencing the luxury of my $12 hotel, I realized just how wonderful spending money could be. Especially since the cheapest I probably could have done in Hoi an was $8/night.

But aside from that, the past few days have not been spectacular. The sleeper train from Saigon to Da Nang, while more expensive than in Thailand (as everything is more in Vietnam - more expensive, more beautiful, more ugly, more poor, more hot, more rainy), was not nearly as nice, and this time I even went for first class. I met Thang at the Da Nang train station, and he offered me a cheap ride to Hoi An. I think this wasn't a mistake, but the rest of the afternoon was.He stopped at a cafe on the way to sell me his services. After hard bargaining (over 30 minutes worth), we agreed to a personalized motorbike tour of the surrounding areas for the next 3 days. I got him to include the cost of housing in the trip, which ended up being a blessing, as in one of the seaside towns we stayed in, the only hotel with hot water (I didn't tell him that hot water was a luxury for me) was $22/night. And while the trip was unusual, and special, and, in the words of an Irish girl I met at China Beach, "I didn't know that sort of thing was on offer," I really wanted to relax for a couple of days. And although Thang didn't believe me, it was really too expensive for me, even after the bargaining (3 days/2 nights for $90 - this is compared to a 7 day trip he took last week with 2 people that he charged $640, without room. I did well, I think.), and I spent too much of the time resenting him for talking me into more travel, and more money, than I wanted.

Resenting... Which is how I kind of feel towards all Vietnamese at the moment. I've softened a little in the past 24 hours, but there is only so much "you buy," and "you give," that you can take before you feel that everyone wants something from you. Hoi An was particularly bad, except, of course, for my hotel. Hoi An is a beautiful town, but it's also turned into a tout-filled hell in the past couple of years. You can't walk down the street without motorbikes pulling over to talk to you - a little standard meet and greet conversation, including "how long are you in Hoi An," followed by, "do you want to go to tailor?" No. I know it's the Vietnamese capital of tourist tailoring, with over 100 shops, but I spend my days in the loft getting dirty. I don't need any tailor-made clothes. I did give in to a "spa" - an experience not to be shared in this venue. But I have to say, even though I had wanted to stay longer in Hoi An, initially, I'm not too sad to have left the next day.

I mentioned this in my last tale, but Vietnamese sights never fail to disappoint. But the countryside never ceases to amaze. As long as I didn't forget this, I could enjoy the next 3 days. It was on-and-off. The ride from Da Nang to Hue (with an overnight stop at beautiful seaside Lang Co) was absolutely incredible. The DMZ was rather gruelling, and I made it into a quicker stop than planned. After the trip with Thang, I got him to drop me off at Bac Ma national park, where I hiked almost 20 km yesterday, and spent the night at the base. I was the only western tourist, and spending time by myself, doing whatever I wanted, was fantastic.

My mother gave me a lonely planet anthology of travel stories, called "The Kindness of Strangers," before I left, and I'd carried it with me until last night without cracking it. But I finished Graham Greene's "The Quiet American" yesterday, and it was either more of "Buddhism Explained" or that, and I finally opened it. It was just what I needed to remind me that not everyone in Vietnam was out to get me, and to help soften me a bit. In the words of one story, by Fran Palumbo (she writes about a meal in scotland, where an old man engaged her in conversation, when she just wanted to be left alone - I know the feeling - and then left, paying her bill with his, without her knowing):

"All of these months, after feeling as though every single person I encountered was a living, breathing 'give me' machine, I meet one person in a remote corner of the world who gives just for the sake of giving, wanting anthing in return, not even a 'thank you.'"

Just what I needed. Oh, and a vacation. I'm on my way to find me one.
  ¶ 9:29 PM

sea | thrill seeking
In spring quarter, my motto was to be brave, 'cause I tend to be a bit of a scaredy cat. But no longer. I don't know what's wrong with me - I'm out of control! My new motto seems to be that if I don't have an adventure, I'm not having a good day.

I loved Saigon, especially the traffic which is wild but also makes complete sense to me. In Thailand they drive on the wrong side of the street. In Vietnam, they drive on every side of the street. And traffic lights seem to just be a suggestion. Supposedly it's a foreigner's biggest nightmare to cross the street, but I loved it. It reminded me of being a pedestrian and jay walking in NYC, except I trusted the motorbikes and occasional trucks/cars with doing the right thing and making sense, as opposed to in NY.

Then I wanted to go to the Mekong Delta, but it was either local bus (whichI wasn't ready for yet), or minibus, I thought. Except all the travel agents kept quoting ridiculous prices for minibuses. It looked like the only way to get down there would be on an organized tour. So, I took one, and was glad to have, just to know that I never ever want to experience one again.

One night in Can Tho, and I ditched the tour and headed to Chau Doc, 7 km from the border with Cambodia, on Tuesday on a local bus - a total adventure, and super fun. I was totally the center of attention, and finally someone got up the nerve to come talk to me, after lots of pointing to me, me smiling, and them laughing. Outside of Saigon there seems to be no one with any english, so there was a lot of "Hello" "What is your name?" and "Where are you from" and smiles and confused nods. I tried to teach one guy the word "Cashew" after he forced some of his upon me, but failed.

Probably the best part of the ride was the second half, when I was joined by a family. The teenage daughter apparently lives in Germany, and visits in the summer, and had some English - more than my german. There was actual communication then, and they invited me to visit their billiards (beeya... it took me so long to figure out what that was) club in Chau Doc (which I visited, and was plied with much free tea and billiards). And one of the little girls was encouraged to say "hello" to me, and I replied "Xin Chao" (hello in Vietnamese), and then for the next 2 hours she chanted "hello, xin chao, hello, xin chao..." over and over and over.

Yesterday I ran up the local sacred mountain, Nui Sam, providing the daily humor for the many pilgrims coming down it at 6 am. I then wanted to try to take the ferry down one of the manmade canals to Ha Tien, on the southern coast, but apparently in the low season the ferry only runs once a week, and they're not sure when the next one will be. So I opted to stay in Chau Doc another night, and try to get a motorbike ride to some of the "local" (ie, can do it in a day but not very close) "sights". Which is what I did - I met a super nice old man who was a helicopter pilot in the war, and spoke excellent english (hard to come by in Vietnam), and his 19 year old son who is studying English at the university took me on his moto for a 7 hour tour, including Tuc Dup Hill (also known as the 2 million dollar hill, a vietnam war sight) and the Ba Chuc massacre (Khmer Rouge) memorial. As one of my guidebooks said, the Mekong Delta tends to be less about the actual "sights" and more about the journey to get to them. Not such paved roads, incredibly beautiful scenery, fascinating view into local life. It was great, although my butt totally is killing me, what with running up a mountain (what was I thinking??) and riding a honda bike on dirt roads all day.

The highlight might have been the kids at Tuc Dup hill. Four of them, aged 6 to 11, accompanied me through the hill, showing me the various routes and caves (it's riddled with rocks and caves, where the vietcong camped out). They knew "hello", "be careful" (used when pointing to low ceilings or tricky climbs), "go up?", "go down?", "drink?" (aka come spend money at our parents' cafe at the bottom), and "photo?" and that's about it. It worked. At the top I took pictures of the views, and of them, and gave them the coconut taffy I had with me. They liked that, but they liked the ziplock freezer bag that I was using to hold the taffy a lot more, and were sooo excited and fighting over it when I gave it to them. Who knew?

I persuaded my guide to teach me how to drive the bike, although I'm not sogood. It looked like this was a good idea, because we ran into the policelater in the day (all the traffic communicates with each other about whether the police are up ahead), and apparently they won't mind if a westerner is riding a bike without a helmet, but will ticket a local. So, the plan was that I would ride ahead about 1km, past the roadblock, and he would walk and catch up with me. At the very last minute, I think he got nervous, having witnessed my lack of skill with the bike earlier in the day, and he decided to go on a different route. I didn't even know there was one - it looked like only flooded rice paddies all around, but there was a narrow dirt path that skirted the edge of some paddies, and that's what we took.

The downside of Vietnam - it has rained every day, and I've gotten very soaked on more than one occasion. The moto ride from the chau doc bus station to Sam mountain, with all of my stuff, stands out particularly. Additionally, I share my sister's love of Vietnamese food, but not so much in Vietnam. I don't know what I'm doing wrong, but there has been very little good food. I got supposedly the best pho in Saigon when I was first there - that was amazing. And breakfast everyday has consisted of a fresh baguette - I thank the French for their imperialism there. Oh, and of course Vietnamese coffee with milk, which I'm completely addicted to. I wish I could find it decaffeinated so I could drink it all day. But aside from that, no luck. Tourist restaurants (aka in the guide book) and local restaurants alike have been very disappointing. And I'm being brave, and ordering things that sound crazy, like frog legs (tiny bones, tastes like chicken), and still no luck! So sad. (FYI - while "fried" in Thailand means stir-fried, "fried" and "stir-fried" both in Vietnam seems to mean battered and deep fried. Or when they prepare it for the silly Western woman, that's what I get.)

Today: I took a minibus with locals back to Saigon, and leave on a sleeper train (16 hours gross) to Danang. I'm planning on spending about a week in that area - Danang, Hoi An, and Hue, before heading up to Hanoi (I gave in and spent the $10 more than the train and bought a plane ticket today). It looks like Grace and Alonzo and I will overlap in Hanoi for a couple of days. I look forward to some familiar faces.
  ¶ 4:35 AM

sea | paradise found, and lost

So much to share:

I finished up in Chiang Mai after 3 days of cooking classes. These were great, and worth every penny. I learned a lot, and cooked the most amazing Thai food I have ever eaten. Ian and I were complaining that we were expecting to be amazed by the food when we got to Thailand, but that it was not much better than what we can get at home (except for the foodstalls). This food, though, wow. And probably the best part was that by cooking and trying a total of 18 dishes, I ate dishes I never would have bothered to order at a restaurant, and found them to be amazing. Like stirfry chicken with cashew nuts - it always sounded so boring. It's not boring.

Then it was a sleeper train Sunday night to Bangkok, a day in Bangkok running around picking up my passport, changing my vietnam visa, changing my hong kong tickets, etc. In the afternoon, though, I managed to make it to the cinema. The choices were poor, and I ended up seeing The notebook - I'm almost too embarassed to admit it. But the Thai movie experience was great. First of all, you can go to the super special theaters, where you can get the "gold box" for about 12 dollars, and sit in a VIP lounge beforehand, and then in your special lazyboy... I opted out of this, and just saw a regular movie, after specifying what seat I wanted. (And they make you wait to go in the theater until the showtime, and usher you to your seat.) The best part was standing up for the national anthem beforehand, and the little photo montage of the King. I love standing up for the national anthem. Today I'm killing time again in Bangkok, and stayed in Hua Lamphong (the main train station) until 8 am just to stand for the anthem. I could now sing it for you, if you wanted. Well, not the words.

Upon getting to the movie theater, though, I realized that I smelled. Kind of bad. I guess the whole sleeper train thing. So, when I got back to Hua Lamphong after the movie, I took a 25 cent shower, which was actually the nicest shower I've had in Thailand. Still all cold water, but the best water pressure, and pretty clean, too.

Ok, so the sleeper train - I was very excited for it. And it was exciting, I guess. The best part was that the bed was actually more comfortable than the bed I'd been sleeping on in Chiang Mai, so that was fabulous. All in all, a good night's sleep, and an easy way to go 12 hours by train.The bus, on the otherhand...

On my second day of cooking class I met an American, Annie, who had just come from Koh Tao (an island off the east coast of southern Thailand), where she'd learned to scuba dive, and couldn't say enough good things. I hadn't been planning on going to the islands, but scuba diving - well, that changed things. If I had something to do, like scuba dive, during the day, instead of sitting on a beach, that would be great. So, I went to Koh Tao Monday night, on the VIP bus.

The VIP buses are the super shiny double decker buses I'd been eyeing at the bus stations, but not figuring out how to buy tickets for. The trick is to use the white-westerner-only (read: sucker) travel agents, and be suckered into the joint ticket (bus and ferry) to an island resort. While these buses look really nice from the outside, the hidden horror lies inside. Once on the bus at 8 pm, packed with only white tourists, I reclined my seat (very far) and pulled out my little I'm-a-weak-foreigner-and-need-comfort-pack (earplugs, eye mask, and inflateable travel pillow), and settled back for sleep. Except they put on a REALLY LOUD movie. Jurassic Park, too - since we were all headed to tropical island paradise, I guess they figured they might as well stick with the theme? There was no sleep to be had with Jurassic Park, and I finally nodded off at around 11. And then at 1am the bus pulled over for a "break" - everyone off the bus for 1/2 hour. And then at 3am, the three of us on the bus heading to Koh Tao were pulled off the bus, our bags practically thrown at us, and left on the side of the road, in the middle of somewhere. Ok, I'm super grouchy, and have no idea where I am, and it's 3 am, and I'm in Thailand. Luckily, it turned out the van to take us to the ferry office was just a little late, and it soon pulled up, and I slept the next 3 hours on the cold hard floor of the ferry office, before getting on the ferry to Koh Tao.Koh Tao was amazing. Pulling into port, it looked just as beautiful, if not more so, than any tropical island I've ever seen. Crystal blue skies and water, palm trees stretching up the mountain, white sands, a few shacks on the beach...

I took my scuba certification course (for Open water) through the "Scuba Shack" on the south end of the island, and got a free bungalow with the deal. The bungalow was up a hill, overlooking the water, with a huge bed (my third - I don't know what it is with thais and huge beds), and a deck complete with hammock.

My second night, I walked about 5 minutes up the one island road to the "famous" restaurant. Seriously, that's what its called. And, contrary to the expectations from the name, it may have been even better than the food from cooking class. It was just nearing sunset, and the restaurant was small and super clean, and the food was beautifully prepared, and amazing (I had green curry with stuffed squid, and some barbeque ribs, and a cold beer), and all for $3. Walking back to my bungalow, I felt like it was the calmest, most beautiful night ever.

Scuba diving. Well, I think I was made for it. I love to swim, as some of you know, and some people have dreams where they're flying, and I hear they're great. I don't have this dream, but sometimes instead, I have a dream where I'm swimming underwater, in the ocean, and I can breathe. It's fantastic. And that's what scuba diving is like. Our first open water dive, I was blown away. It's so beautiful down there, and fascinating. While the scuba diving mini-vacation doesn't exactly fit into my small-budget tour, it was totally completely worth it.My second to last dive was the best, though. It was my last day on the island (yesterday), and the first dive of the day left at 6:10 am. This meant I had to get up at 5:20 in order to pack, check out, have breakfast, pack up my scuba gear, etc. Which was fine - I'm on a super early schedule these days, especially since the island's "electricity" (only from 6pm to 6 am) was so incredibly weak, and the lights so poor, I couldn't read after it got dark. We walked down the cliff to the boat on the east side of the island, as the sun was rising - it was beautiful. And then we motored around the island and to the west to go to Chumphon Pinnacles.

This is supposed to be the best place to dive in all of Koh Tao, and this time of year, Koh Tao is the best place to dive in all of Thailand. And it was also our first dive to 18 meters - the limit for open water certification. We were the first boat there, since Scuba Shack, although dodgy in other ways, has the earliest dive times on the island. And we went down, and immediately saw a grey reef shark, about 2 1/2 meters long. And then another... and another. 6 total. 3 of them were just circling around us for about 20 minutes - so close, and so beautiful. Wow.

Leaving the island that afternoon, I took a taxi (aka pickup truck) back to the pier with 4 others from Scuba Shack. There was a super cute puppy hanging out by the taxi, and we were playing with it before we left. And then we pulled away, and the puppy started yelping. We'd run over the puppy. The driver stopped the truck, and looked back, and kind of shrugged, and continued on. It looked to me like the puppy's leg was broken, but that it would survive. But it was just a beach dog - one of many on the island. It didn't particularly belong to anyone, and certainly no one was going to be bringing it to the vet. In one brief moment, it's life was totally changed, and possibly over. But it didn't really matter. In the third world, life - human or animal - can't be treated with as much reverence as we treat it at home, and it's easy to forget, but easy to be shown. But it kind of killed that whole tropical paradise thing for me.

Then ferry back to the mainland, yummy foodstall waiting for the train, and sleeper train back to Bangkok this morning. Another Hua Lamphong shower special, this email, and then I'm off to the airport. I fly to Ho Chi Minh city, aka HCMC, aka Saigon this afternoon. I'm really excited about Vietnam.

  ¶ 8:31 PM

sea | the rainy season

I knew I went to Thailand in the rainy season, and now I really know I went to Thailand in the rainy season. The past 3 days I feel like it's done nothing but rain. This isn't entirely true, but enough so that I've significantly caught up on reading and writing, and am feeling a bit like a sloth. But I'm also pretty much done with wats, for a little while. So many wats, so many buddhas...

The past week:

Ian and I spent 3 days in Sukhothai - first going to the old historical city and checking out the ruins there, then another day at Si Satchanali, another old ruined city about 40 k away. The guesthouse we were at was very nice, run by a woman named Naa, it was a traditional Thai house, only 4 rooms for guests, very quiet and laid back. Such a relief from Bangkok, where I spent way too long.

We then split up, and I went to Lampang, a city 2 hours west of Chiang Mai. A very small town, and definitely not a tourist destination, Lampang was pretty great. I spent the first afternoon just wandering around the city, and then took a long run along the river bank, in the rain (of course). The guesthouse I was at was a little pricier than Naa's (a whole $6/night, compared to $4), but it was also the nicest place I've stayed out. There was a grand piano in the communal area, on the river, and I got a little playing in, too.

My "purpose" in Lampang, if you can call it that, was to go to Wat Phra Lampang Luang, which is supposed to be the most beautiful in northern Thailand, if not all of Thailand. In order to get there, you need to take a songthaew (literally, two rows - converted pickup trucks with two rows of seats in the covered back, and by far the safest and cheapest method for gettng around) to Kho Ka, a town about 20 km away, and then either walk 3 1/2 km to the wat, convince the songthaew to take you off their route for more money, or hire a motorcycle taxi. Unfortunately, instead of getting on one of the standard songthaews to Kho Ka, I somehow found myself hiring one all for myself, to take me directly there. Pricy, but it's all relative, and I thought it was fine, until the driver didn't understand that I wanted him to wait and drive me back, and I was stranded. And had no idea which way Kho Ka was. I first just camped out on the steps up to the wat, waiting for a motorcycle taxi or songthaew to come and drop off some other tourist, but no, that didn't seem to be in the cards. So I walked over to the food stalls, and got a guy to give me a motorcycle ride to Kho Ka. Except he didn't have a motorcycle. 15 minutes later, a friend showed up with a motorcycle, which he then borrowed, and I hopped on the back and was on my way.
This was not my first motorcycle taxi experience. I've found that when you're entirely lost, and in need, these things are great. Of course, the first time I had to ride one, it was also the first time I'd been on a motorcycle, ever, and I kept entertaining thoughts of death or dismemberment while grinning from ear to ear - from enjoying the ride, and being proud that I figured a way out of my mess, and was brave enough to get onto the thing.
Anyway, I finished up the day in Lampang, reading while staring at the never ending rain (this was after I'd gotten completely soaked).

Yesterday I took the bus to Chiang Mai. I still haven't really figured out how the buses work here. Somehow to get to Chiang Mai I got stuck on a non a/c bus, but they never seem to ask, I never remember to, and there are so many companies. I figure if it gets me there, it's ok, if it's a/c, better, if it's comfortable, well, I haven't had that one yet.

Chiang Mai - the "capital" of the north, is the second-largest in Thailand, but with only ~200,000 people. There is the old city, surrounded by a moat, which is actually pretty calm inside, and the rest of the city that sprawls around it. Maybe I'm just not ready for another city yet after my Bangkok overdose, or maybe I only like western cities, but Chiang Mai really turns me off. Inside the old city, where I'm staying, it seems like everything is geared for tourists, espcially backpackers. Now, I can accept that since I am travelling around asia on a small budget, carrying a pack on my back, that I am a backpacker. But I'm not this kind of backpacker, and the culture really turns me off.

The main things to do here seem to be :

1. Organize a trek and get out
2. Take cooking classes

I've started the latter - I just had my first day of three at the Chiang Mai Thai Cookery school. So much food, so tasty. We went to the market this morning and were shown around, and then given ingredients to go pick out and buy. Then 6 courses later, they rolled us out of there. It was a large group today - almost 25. I'm changing locations tomorrow, hopefully it'll be calmer, and smaller, at the one outside the city.

That's it for now. Oh, but in keeping with the last email, I have another insect story for you:

Our first night in Sukhothai, Ian and I were lounging on the bed, reading, and turned the lights on as it got dark. And then Ian asked me, "Do you see any fleas?", and I'd just noticed one. We stood up, and looked at the white bedspread, and could see a couple of black spots. We killed a couple, and were wondering where they were coming from, as the number of fleas grew and grew. There were SO MANY FLEAS. Finally, Ian went to go get Naa, and she said it was because of the light, they were falling from the ceiling, and that it meant a big rain was coming. I don't know about any of that, but we shook out the bedspread outside, turned off the light, and went down to the common area to wait while the fleas hopefully left the room.
Now, the thing about moving downstairs was that Naa pushed us to sit in the best locations, under the fan. Under the fan also meant under the light that was attached to the fan, which meant under the fan that pushed thousands of tiny insects down onto us. I wasn't too happy about the fleas, and this I couldn't take at all, as Ian got to witness. I didn't want to stay there, I didn't want to go back up to the room alone, I wasn't sure I wanted to go back to the room ever... It ended up being fine - Ian and I went back upstairs, and went to bed early, in the dark. Which we had to do every night there, which made for very early evenings, but almost bug-free evenings.

My first night in Lampang, however, I woke up at around midnight, and I really thought I felt something land on the sheet on top of me. I looked down, and there were moving black specks all over the sheet. I hopped up, standing on tiptoe, and looked at the rest of the room. There were small bugs everywhere!! I was panting at this point, and, cringing up, went to the door to turn on the light. Upon doing so, I saw it was all my imagination, and that there were no bugs. Zero. Nor are there any yet in my guesthouse in Chiang Mai. I blame the malaria pills for making me hallucinate.

Oh, and for the record, the night after the fleas, there was a big rain.

  ¶ 3:53 AM