December 2013
i think i had more adventuresome times on my first trip to sE asia!
I think I had more adventures on my 2006 trip. Or maybe I've got older and more boring.
Back then, I didn't tell you about restaurants that serve 40 different types of pad thai, or show 45 different flower pictures...
WHATEVER!
Back then, I didn't tell you about restaurants that serve 40 different types of pad thai, or show 45 different flower pictures...
WHATEVER!
Click the grey buttons, below, to go the 2006 updates.
I am in the Seoul airport at present. I left Edmonton about 6:40 am on Feb 15 and arrived in Seoul, S. Korea, at 6:00 pm, Feb 16. I seem to have lost about a 1/2 day somewhere!
I flew Asiana airlines and was very pleased with the comfort and service. I had 3 seats to myself and was able to stretch out and snooze for quite some time. I never did figure out the sound, movies and games, so I read (big surprise, right?).
The food was OK. NOTE: I said the food was OK... NOT "for an airline, the food was OK". I was reminded of what we used to get on Wardair flights. For anyone under the age of 45, that last sentence likely makes no sense whatsoever.
I was a little disappointed about the scotch they served... no single malt... just Chivas. AHHH, the suffering we world travellers have to endure!
The stewardesses were almost fluent in English, and I almost understood what they were saying. Luckily, there were 4 phrases we agreed on, early in the trip:
1. scotch, please
2. wine, please
3. more scotch, please
4. more wine, please
Did I mention that I slept lots and well??
I have a 24 hour stopover in Seoul, and the airline put me up in a hotel. I made a slight mistake in that I stayed in a hotel near the Seoul airport, when I could have gone to downtown Seoul. There was not much to do or see at the new city named "The Irport Town Center"... and YES that was in English. Plus it was unbelievably cold. My poor ears got semi-frozen within a few blocks walk.
So I've opted to come back to the airport a few hours early. I knew it had this Internet Cafe plus lots of interesting shops. Although the usual fast food chains seem ubiquitous.
My the hotel was interesting. Very nicely done (quite new). It's called Tourist Hotel June, once again completely in English. I got two free (and disgusting) meals also complementary, so I'm looking forward to ordering bi beem bap and bulgogi SOON!
When I entered my room, a motion-sensor light came on. I took off my shoes and put on the slippers waiting in the small "foyer". Then I noticed a FIRE Zone box on the wall and wondered what it was all about. I proceeded into the room and looked for light switches. NADA! There were some relay switches that I tried, but they didn't work. Then the motion-sensor kight went out, and I had to leave the room, go to the foyer, which activated the light, then back to the main room and bathroom looking for a way to turn on the lights. I repeated that sequence about 15 times (20 minutes or so) with no luck with the lights, tv or air conditioning. Not that I needed air.
At last, I decided to swallow my pride and go back to the main desk to ask for help. As I was putting on my shoes I noticed that the FIRE zone box actually said FREE ZONE, and underneath, in very small letters were the words INSERT KEY. HA! The key had a wooden (?) attachment that fit in a slot in the FREE ZONE DOOhickey thingy. THAT activated the lights.
What a smart idea. You know where your key is, and you can't leave lights on when you leave.
I flew Asiana airlines and was very pleased with the comfort and service. I had 3 seats to myself and was able to stretch out and snooze for quite some time. I never did figure out the sound, movies and games, so I read (big surprise, right?).
The food was OK. NOTE: I said the food was OK... NOT "for an airline, the food was OK". I was reminded of what we used to get on Wardair flights. For anyone under the age of 45, that last sentence likely makes no sense whatsoever.
I was a little disappointed about the scotch they served... no single malt... just Chivas. AHHH, the suffering we world travellers have to endure!
The stewardesses were almost fluent in English, and I almost understood what they were saying. Luckily, there were 4 phrases we agreed on, early in the trip:
1. scotch, please
2. wine, please
3. more scotch, please
4. more wine, please
Did I mention that I slept lots and well??
I have a 24 hour stopover in Seoul, and the airline put me up in a hotel. I made a slight mistake in that I stayed in a hotel near the Seoul airport, when I could have gone to downtown Seoul. There was not much to do or see at the new city named "The Irport Town Center"... and YES that was in English. Plus it was unbelievably cold. My poor ears got semi-frozen within a few blocks walk.
So I've opted to come back to the airport a few hours early. I knew it had this Internet Cafe plus lots of interesting shops. Although the usual fast food chains seem ubiquitous.
My the hotel was interesting. Very nicely done (quite new). It's called Tourist Hotel June, once again completely in English. I got two free (and disgusting) meals also complementary, so I'm looking forward to ordering bi beem bap and bulgogi SOON!
When I entered my room, a motion-sensor light came on. I took off my shoes and put on the slippers waiting in the small "foyer". Then I noticed a FIRE Zone box on the wall and wondered what it was all about. I proceeded into the room and looked for light switches. NADA! There were some relay switches that I tried, but they didn't work. Then the motion-sensor kight went out, and I had to leave the room, go to the foyer, which activated the light, then back to the main room and bathroom looking for a way to turn on the lights. I repeated that sequence about 15 times (20 minutes or so) with no luck with the lights, tv or air conditioning. Not that I needed air.
At last, I decided to swallow my pride and go back to the main desk to ask for help. As I was putting on my shoes I noticed that the FIRE zone box actually said FREE ZONE, and underneath, in very small letters were the words INSERT KEY. HA! The key had a wooden (?) attachment that fit in a slot in the FREE ZONE DOOhickey thingy. THAT activated the lights.
What a smart idea. You know where your key is, and you can't leave lights on when you leave.
AND, I at last, faced that most dreaded of scatological phenomena known as THE ASIAN TOILET! But what a toilet. It was the usual (usual for Westerners) sit-on model, but with significant differences. First, it was named the LOOLOO and it was, indeed, a lulu.
It had a series of buttons that 1. warmed the seat 2. gave a massage 3. gave a FRONT cleansing 4. gave a BACK cleanisng 5. air dried (with variable air temp control) |
a korean commercial for the lulu |
As old Will said, and I likely paraphrase slightly, "the better part of valour is discretion."
I modified the normal approach to a front cleansing. I stood to the side of the toilet and pressed the front cleansing button. A long, upward curving, stainless steel tube glided forward, stopped, then squirted a blast of water upward, which anatomically made sense. However, given the absence of a body on the seat, the jet of water proved to be an excellent ceiling tile power washer.
I was less chicken with the remainder of the buttons. The back cleansing (via a gentle stream of pleasantly warm water) plus the air dry, plus a massage was quite... impressive! I shall, in the interests of decorum and decency, not go into more detail about my experiences with LOOLOO.
I modified the normal approach to a front cleansing. I stood to the side of the toilet and pressed the front cleansing button. A long, upward curving, stainless steel tube glided forward, stopped, then squirted a blast of water upward, which anatomically made sense. However, given the absence of a body on the seat, the jet of water proved to be an excellent ceiling tile power washer.
I was less chicken with the remainder of the buttons. The back cleansing (via a gentle stream of pleasantly warm water) plus the air dry, plus a massage was quite... impressive! I shall, in the interests of decorum and decency, not go into more detail about my experiences with LOOLOO.
DIGRESSION INTO THE PRESENT
May 2013 I have purchased a hand-held bidet for my home toilet... nowhere near as impressive as the LooLoo, butt.. END OF DIGRESSION |
I'm in hot, sultry, exotic, smelly, everyone-drives-too-fast, jeez-it-is-cheap BANGKOK. I arrived quite late last night (Friday) and was met by a college professor I met whilst she was on a study tour of NAIT. She, her nephew and a friend found me at the airport, and drove me through night-time Bangkok.
First stop was to get some Thai food.
HA!
My taste buds are just as burned off as theirs. In fact, only two of us (including moi) could finish the soup. Mind you, my sinuses drained for the next 16 hours, I sweated out 34.2365 litres of water, the inside of my mouth is numb... but O! it was tasty soup, noodles and fish balls.
For those of you whose minds tend to wander, I'd like to point out that THIS fish is in a spherical shape... the result of some machinations with (I presume) something like a melon baller.
WHATEVER! It was very tasty.
First stop was to get some Thai food.
HA!
My taste buds are just as burned off as theirs. In fact, only two of us (including moi) could finish the soup. Mind you, my sinuses drained for the next 16 hours, I sweated out 34.2365 litres of water, the inside of my mouth is numb... but O! it was tasty soup, noodles and fish balls.
For those of you whose minds tend to wander, I'd like to point out that THIS fish is in a spherical shape... the result of some machinations with (I presume) something like a melon baller.
WHATEVER! It was very tasty.
Then, sometime after midnight I was escorted to my hotel. My friend had scouted out hotels in the Siam Square section of Bangkok (it sounded exotic when I read about it). Most were too pricey to suit her, so she found me a room in the Markman Mansion for 600 baht (which is about $18) per night.
My room (larger than that in Korea) has air conditioning, an exhaust fan, TV, a frig, a shower and a regular toilet. (To my disappointment, LOOLOO has not immigrated to Thailand, at least not to the Markman Mansion). There is actually HOT water in the shower, although the pressure is somewhat minuscule. Nevertheless, a shower around 4 pm, today (Saturday) was very welcome.
I thought you'd never ask me.
I was at Wat Pho (the largest temple complex in Bangkok) and had a one hour massage, with heated herbs, for $12. There is a famous (you HAVE heard of it, I'm sure) massage school run by the temple and the students twist, turn, abuse, torture and otherwise ply their trade on unsuspecting "clients" who are wandering through the temple grounds.
It was actually reasonably relaxing and I feel very good. The herbs, however, heated to an excruciatingly hot temperature, and applied all over my exposed body left a yellow residue that took some scrubbing in the aforementioned shower to remove.
Do you find some of my sentences a trifle convoluted?
I travelled by tuk-tuk to a dock, with my Thai friend at 9 a.m. this morning. (More on tuk tuks later). There we grabbed a long-tail boat (look it up on the Web) and had a 90 minute trip along the river and canals that intersect Bangkok all over. Fascinating trip. Mansions side-by-side with falling-into-the-water hovels.
My room (larger than that in Korea) has air conditioning, an exhaust fan, TV, a frig, a shower and a regular toilet. (To my disappointment, LOOLOO has not immigrated to Thailand, at least not to the Markman Mansion). There is actually HOT water in the shower, although the pressure is somewhat minuscule. Nevertheless, a shower around 4 pm, today (Saturday) was very welcome.
- First it rejuvenated me.
- Second it washed away the unfortunate essence (essence de Garry, courtesy of the 35 degrees and 95% humidity).
- Third it got rid of all the yellow dye that covered a substantial portion of my body [which means there was a LOT of yellow dye on me].
I thought you'd never ask me.
I was at Wat Pho (the largest temple complex in Bangkok) and had a one hour massage, with heated herbs, for $12. There is a famous (you HAVE heard of it, I'm sure) massage school run by the temple and the students twist, turn, abuse, torture and otherwise ply their trade on unsuspecting "clients" who are wandering through the temple grounds.
It was actually reasonably relaxing and I feel very good. The herbs, however, heated to an excruciatingly hot temperature, and applied all over my exposed body left a yellow residue that took some scrubbing in the aforementioned shower to remove.
Do you find some of my sentences a trifle convoluted?
I travelled by tuk-tuk to a dock, with my Thai friend at 9 a.m. this morning. (More on tuk tuks later). There we grabbed a long-tail boat (look it up on the Web) and had a 90 minute trip along the river and canals that intersect Bangkok all over. Fascinating trip. Mansions side-by-side with falling-into-the-water hovels.
We stopped at a snake place (little zoo, sort of) and watched 4 guys torment snakes (cobras, pythons, vipers) and dash out of the way before they got struck. I was pulling for the snakes to score a hit, but no luck... all the handlers lived... today at least.
Ah yes... tuktuks. These are (I think) motorcycles converted to carry 2 to 4 passengers under a canopy of sorts, but with open sides. Dirty, smoky, noisy, uncomfortable... BUT very manoeuvrable (spelling?) and cheap. OK OK I'll let up on the "cheap" comments. (BUT it is really inexpensive here.)
Did I mention that the drivers are all maniacs over here? If there's space it's taken at quite breakneck speeds. Buses compete with cars with tuktuks with motorcycles with trucks with scooters. Pedestrians are aimed at and certainly NEVER have the right of way.
Plus they drive on the wrong side of the road. Just like the Brits.
Anyway, the tuktuk ride (3$ for 1/2 hour trip to the dock... OOPS SORRY) was exciting. Just what I need... more A. Fib. at my age.
My camera battery is on the fritz, so pictures are few and far between. Perhaps I'll figure out how to send pix along with these emails. I can do it from home, but I haven't taken the time to learn how, remote from my Edmonton abode.
Although I didn't see a lot of special touristy things today, I had an incredibly full day and my senses are overwhelmed with the different life. My friend will take me around tomorrow for some more sightseeing. Then on Monday, I'll visit some travel shops and try to arrange a tour of Vietnam and Cambodia.
Ah yes... tuktuks. These are (I think) motorcycles converted to carry 2 to 4 passengers under a canopy of sorts, but with open sides. Dirty, smoky, noisy, uncomfortable... BUT very manoeuvrable (spelling?) and cheap. OK OK I'll let up on the "cheap" comments. (BUT it is really inexpensive here.)
Did I mention that the drivers are all maniacs over here? If there's space it's taken at quite breakneck speeds. Buses compete with cars with tuktuks with motorcycles with trucks with scooters. Pedestrians are aimed at and certainly NEVER have the right of way.
Plus they drive on the wrong side of the road. Just like the Brits.
Anyway, the tuktuk ride (3$ for 1/2 hour trip to the dock... OOPS SORRY) was exciting. Just what I need... more A. Fib. at my age.
My camera battery is on the fritz, so pictures are few and far between. Perhaps I'll figure out how to send pix along with these emails. I can do it from home, but I haven't taken the time to learn how, remote from my Edmonton abode.
Although I didn't see a lot of special touristy things today, I had an incredibly full day and my senses are overwhelmed with the different life. My friend will take me around tomorrow for some more sightseeing. Then on Monday, I'll visit some travel shops and try to arrange a tour of Vietnam and Cambodia.
Well here I am in Ayatthua, although I am dubious about the spelling. This is a nice city North of Bangkok. It is famous for its ruined temples and the large number of Buddha statues in the ruined temples, in new temples, on street corners, in the middle of roads, along ditches, on mailboxes, in stores... I believe, in all sincerity, THAT I DON'T WANT TO EVER EVER EVER visit another ruined temple, again. Except for Angkor Wat in Cambodia.
Let me cast back in time and let you know how I spent Monday and Tuesday in Bangkok. My "guide, "Air" is her nickname, had to work on her thesis proposal, and thus I was on my own for Monday. Bloody mistake... I spent more time retracing steps, getting unlost (getting lost was easy, the opposite caused all the grief and ate up all the time). Luckily I had a business card from my hotel, with a map on the back and tuk-tuk and taxi drivers got me home safely.
For those of you who are concerned, I hasten to assure you that I could ALWAYS find a cafe, and order hot soup and beer, or pad thai and beer, or tom yum ghoon and beer, or once in a while... just beer. Although, my personal self-worth took a severe hit (the "getting lost" schtick)... my sustenance-worth remained intact.
On one of Monday's adventures, I went to THE large shopping centre (the WEM of Thailand, I gather). I walked there (1/2 hour through the rain and heat... poor me... I had to have a beer when I got there... BUT...). However upon arriving a "security guard" (so he said) told me the centre was closed until 1 pm and I should hop into his friend's taxi and go to the OTHER good shopping centre. (Do I have this big "M" in the middle of my forehead?)
If I'd been the "normal" farang (Thai word for foreigner) sucker, I'd have ended up at a massage parlor that was actually a brothel. BUT NOT ME, O! NO!
I ended up at the priciest diamond and gold "shopping centre" in Bangkok. So who was the bigger sucker, me for going, or the "security guard" for thinking I was going to buy?
Anyway, I was severely annoyed. And I voiced that to a sweet young lady who was going to be my personal guide to diamonds etc. When she heard my whine, she was actually embarrassed that someone would do that to me. She found a limo/bus that was taking a bunch of RICH types back to the other shopping centre and wangled me a free ride there.
So that worked out OK. And I finally got my beer.
I decided to take the overhead train back to my hotel... well close to my hotel. Once I got off and wandered hither and yon... I finally gave in, hailed a taxi and went back to the hotel. Then I walked straight up that street, over a pedestrian walkway and down a street to an immense open -air set of restaurants, where I had... pad thai and 2 beer. I managed to get directly home from there and went to bed.
Thus endeth Monday.
On Tuesday, I had agreed to go over my friends PhD Thesis proposal which she had to give in English. She and another lady PhD candidate turned up about 9:30 am and I corrected their PowerPoint presentations, then harassed them about their English. Their ability to rattle off organic chemical complex compounds (with horrendously multi-syllabic parts) is phenomenal, but they can't say "went" correctly. They don't see the need of sounding out ending consonants, so I was hammering them about that. Plus how to pronounce words with "v" in them. Mind you, they pronounced "valence" correctly. Anything to do with science they had down cold.
We spent about 8 hours doing that.
Let me cast back in time and let you know how I spent Monday and Tuesday in Bangkok. My "guide, "Air" is her nickname, had to work on her thesis proposal, and thus I was on my own for Monday. Bloody mistake... I spent more time retracing steps, getting unlost (getting lost was easy, the opposite caused all the grief and ate up all the time). Luckily I had a business card from my hotel, with a map on the back and tuk-tuk and taxi drivers got me home safely.
For those of you who are concerned, I hasten to assure you that I could ALWAYS find a cafe, and order hot soup and beer, or pad thai and beer, or tom yum ghoon and beer, or once in a while... just beer. Although, my personal self-worth took a severe hit (the "getting lost" schtick)... my sustenance-worth remained intact.
On one of Monday's adventures, I went to THE large shopping centre (the WEM of Thailand, I gather). I walked there (1/2 hour through the rain and heat... poor me... I had to have a beer when I got there... BUT...). However upon arriving a "security guard" (so he said) told me the centre was closed until 1 pm and I should hop into his friend's taxi and go to the OTHER good shopping centre. (Do I have this big "M" in the middle of my forehead?)
If I'd been the "normal" farang (Thai word for foreigner) sucker, I'd have ended up at a massage parlor that was actually a brothel. BUT NOT ME, O! NO!
I ended up at the priciest diamond and gold "shopping centre" in Bangkok. So who was the bigger sucker, me for going, or the "security guard" for thinking I was going to buy?
Anyway, I was severely annoyed. And I voiced that to a sweet young lady who was going to be my personal guide to diamonds etc. When she heard my whine, she was actually embarrassed that someone would do that to me. She found a limo/bus that was taking a bunch of RICH types back to the other shopping centre and wangled me a free ride there.
So that worked out OK. And I finally got my beer.
I decided to take the overhead train back to my hotel... well close to my hotel. Once I got off and wandered hither and yon... I finally gave in, hailed a taxi and went back to the hotel. Then I walked straight up that street, over a pedestrian walkway and down a street to an immense open -air set of restaurants, where I had... pad thai and 2 beer. I managed to get directly home from there and went to bed.
Thus endeth Monday.
On Tuesday, I had agreed to go over my friends PhD Thesis proposal which she had to give in English. She and another lady PhD candidate turned up about 9:30 am and I corrected their PowerPoint presentations, then harassed them about their English. Their ability to rattle off organic chemical complex compounds (with horrendously multi-syllabic parts) is phenomenal, but they can't say "went" correctly. They don't see the need of sounding out ending consonants, so I was hammering them about that. Plus how to pronounce words with "v" in them. Mind you, they pronounced "valence" correctly. Anything to do with science they had down cold.
We spent about 8 hours doing that.
And I booked myself a tour. It went by train to Ayatthua, arriving at 10 am... leaving me LOTS of time (5 hours in a tuktuk) to see all the ruined temples, new temples and (did I mention this?) waaaaaaay too many Buddhas. I then ensconced myself in an internet cafe, with a fan, and have been catching up on emails. And, thus, here I am...
At 9 tonight I catch a sleeper train and in 12 hours arrive in the mountain city of ChiangMai. Please, God, make it cool and dry. I spend a little over 1 day in Chiang Mai. It sounds like a fascinating place.
Back to my trip... on Friday at noon, I start a 2 day/1 night trek through the mountain forest. I get to spend the night at a guesthouse in a remote mountain village. However, the tourist agent took a look at me and put me into the "soft-trek" group... so how remote this village might be is problematic. After that, back to CM for the night.
The next morning (I think this is now Sunday I'm talking about, although I'm uncertain... I suppose I SHOULD get that clear in my mind) I take a minivan, with some group of who knows? and head for Laos. Assuming they let me in, I shall then have a 3 day/2 night trip by boat down the Mekong River. Stopovers will be in village houses along the way.
I end up in "something or other" Prabang (I should really get that straight in my mind, too) in the middle of Laos... abandoned... my tour ends there. My tourist arranger friend assures me it is easy to get cheap tours to Vietnam... and once there to get equally cheap tours of Cambodia. My guide book confirms these ideas.
I'll see.
I can't imagine internet connections in the jungle, or along the Mekong. But who knows? So don't worry if I don't get in touch for a week... if it's over a month, send out Stanley, please.
At 9 tonight I catch a sleeper train and in 12 hours arrive in the mountain city of ChiangMai. Please, God, make it cool and dry. I spend a little over 1 day in Chiang Mai. It sounds like a fascinating place.
Back to my trip... on Friday at noon, I start a 2 day/1 night trek through the mountain forest. I get to spend the night at a guesthouse in a remote mountain village. However, the tourist agent took a look at me and put me into the "soft-trek" group... so how remote this village might be is problematic. After that, back to CM for the night.
The next morning (I think this is now Sunday I'm talking about, although I'm uncertain... I suppose I SHOULD get that clear in my mind) I take a minivan, with some group of who knows? and head for Laos. Assuming they let me in, I shall then have a 3 day/2 night trip by boat down the Mekong River. Stopovers will be in village houses along the way.
I end up in "something or other" Prabang (I should really get that straight in my mind, too) in the middle of Laos... abandoned... my tour ends there. My tourist arranger friend assures me it is easy to get cheap tours to Vietnam... and once there to get equally cheap tours of Cambodia. My guide book confirms these ideas.
I'll see.
I can't imagine internet connections in the jungle, or along the Mekong. But who knows? So don't worry if I don't get in touch for a week... if it's over a month, send out Stanley, please.
This is the second "essay" I shall have composed on the topic of Asian toilets.
And I promise... once I have finished number 2, I shall never again dump on you, regarding this topic.
You must understand, however, that I consider this to be FUNDAMENTAL research.
And I promise... once I have finished number 2, I shall never again dump on you, regarding this topic.
You must understand, however, that I consider this to be FUNDAMENTAL research.
I just completed a 2 day overnight mountain trek... I shall whine and wimp about that in a later update. Now, as I have alluded to earlier, I want to talk about my first visit to a REAL ASIAN TOILET... two footrests and a hole... which was the total facility in the particular subsistence farm that also was our trek overnight camp spot.
For those of you whose adventures have precluded the use of an Asian toilet, I should like to give you a detailed (although provided with impeccable tastefulness) set of operating procedures about using said facility.
Since my daughter, Erika, was the first one to suggest the following procedures, I believe she should be recognized as having squatter's rights to the ideas which follow.
Step one: duck low enough so you don't smack the top of your head on the abysmally low door opening.
Step two: don't move until your eyes adjust to the gloom.
Step three: defocus your eyes, 'cuz you ain't going to like the decor. Locate all critical components of the room, including spider webs, questionable "items" on the floor, etc.
Step four: drop your shorts/pants/whatever.
Step five: drop your underwear.
Step six: remove one leg of each (SAME LEG... YOU FOOL!) and hold onto the all parts of shorts/underwear, keeping clothing off the floor/ground
Step seven: straddle toilet and assume squat position. NOTE: you may wish to do quadriceps exercises for several months prior to this trip
Step eight; carry on
Step nine: curse because you forgot to get toilet paper ready, 'cuz that should have been step four. However, if you DID remember, use, then discard in the handy-dandy container nearby... NOT IN THE TOILET.
Step ten: reverse step seven
Step eleven: reverse steps six, five and four
Step twelve: part of the "decor" is a container of water with a dipper... fill the dipper with the water and pour down the toilet to flush. NOTE: stand back a bit whilst doing this
Step thirteen: remove yourself from the toilet area. If you're REALLY fortunate, there will be water and soap nearby. If not, then I sell a really great "dry" antibacterial "wash" that works wonders in removing disgusting germs etc. Of course, you should really think about this BEFORE you start your trip.
Step fourteen: consider the benefits of constipation while in parts of the world that use Asian toilets.
I think Sir Thomas Crapper should have been considered for canonization.
For those of you whose adventures have precluded the use of an Asian toilet, I should like to give you a detailed (although provided with impeccable tastefulness) set of operating procedures about using said facility.
Since my daughter, Erika, was the first one to suggest the following procedures, I believe she should be recognized as having squatter's rights to the ideas which follow.
Step one: duck low enough so you don't smack the top of your head on the abysmally low door opening.
Step two: don't move until your eyes adjust to the gloom.
Step three: defocus your eyes, 'cuz you ain't going to like the decor. Locate all critical components of the room, including spider webs, questionable "items" on the floor, etc.
Step four: drop your shorts/pants/whatever.
Step five: drop your underwear.
Step six: remove one leg of each (SAME LEG... YOU FOOL!) and hold onto the all parts of shorts/underwear, keeping clothing off the floor/ground
Step seven: straddle toilet and assume squat position. NOTE: you may wish to do quadriceps exercises for several months prior to this trip
Step eight; carry on
Step nine: curse because you forgot to get toilet paper ready, 'cuz that should have been step four. However, if you DID remember, use, then discard in the handy-dandy container nearby... NOT IN THE TOILET.
Step ten: reverse step seven
Step eleven: reverse steps six, five and four
Step twelve: part of the "decor" is a container of water with a dipper... fill the dipper with the water and pour down the toilet to flush. NOTE: stand back a bit whilst doing this
Step thirteen: remove yourself from the toilet area. If you're REALLY fortunate, there will be water and soap nearby. If not, then I sell a really great "dry" antibacterial "wash" that works wonders in removing disgusting germs etc. Of course, you should really think about this BEFORE you start your trip.
Step fourteen: consider the benefits of constipation while in parts of the world that use Asian toilets.
I think Sir Thomas Crapper should have been considered for canonization.
|
I want to fill you in on my Thai Jungle Trek... 2 scintiallating days and one peculiar night.
You may recall, since I mentioned it earlier, that the travel agent who arranged this lovely tour had put me in the "soft" tour. He commented, at the time I was talking to him, that "young people go on the 3 day tour". Get that? YOUNG PEOPLE... not "younger" people. Just WHAT was he trying to tell me?
I was a tad miffed, but I never said anything.
The trek originated in the north central city of Chiang Mai. The evening before my trek, I sat down with the guide (Khan... more on him, later) and listened as he briefly outlined what we were to bring, what we could expect, and we were warned that the mountain-tribe villager we'd stay with at night was someone who was unused to "civilization" and was not to be given handouts, nor in anyway "polluted" by our worldliness. At last... the chance to finally view an indigenous SEAsia hilltribe representative who lived as did his ancestors thousands of years ago.
As I listened, I viewed my fellow-travellers. (This being said with no political overtones intended.) Two girls from New Zealand, two girls from Sweden, two girls from England, a couple from Spain, and good ol' what's his name... Garry. I liked the ratio. ALL the others spoke English, but were signed up for the 3 day tour.
Could I be going on a 1 person, guided tour, I wondered... or perhaps I'd go with this group for 2 days, then be brought back to Chiang Mai.
NO.
The next day, I was picked up (with NO SIGN of the others) and whisked around Chiang Mai on the back of a small truck. Said truck had slightly padded bench seats, with a shell canopy, but open sides. Whilst being "whisked" about, we picked up a French family of 3 (Dad, Mom, teenaged daughter), 3 Japanese male university students, and two male Frenchmen. The ratio was very disappointing. However, the only common language we had was English, so we did somewhat bond over the 2 days.
The nine of us sped along Thai highways, bouncing, jostling, hanging on for dear life, in the hot air slipstream of the open truck for an hour. We stopped at some village and were urged to get water, eat, and look around. That took a half hour.
A DIGRESSION. You may be surprised to know that I REALLY pay attention to food when I travel. (OK... I really pay attention to food... PERIOD!) At this village I discovered a delectable confection... name unknown. It SEEMS to be ground up milky-consistency coconut which is spooned into a muffin tin and cooked over coals. It hardens up, browns on the bottom and becomes custard-like on top. Very very very tasty. I shall try to replicate the recipe, back in Canada. END OF DIGRESSION
We spent another hot, dusty and enjoyable hour bouncing on ever decreasingly comfortable roads. Thence to our starting point. Man, it was hot... but it was now Noon, in Thailand, at the start of their HOT season. Mr. Kipling could have entitled his poem "MAD DOGS AND THAI TREKKERS GO OUT IN THE NOON-DAY SUN".
And go out we did... with backpacks filled with water, change of clothing, sunscreen, bug repellant... and whatever else we may have slipped in... knowing for sure we (I) would need it sometime during the little hike.
What a joy the path was, sloped pleasantly toward the ever-present 100 m. dropoff, sometimes reaching a maximum of 25 cm. The path was mostly dried mud, although at its most sloped and with the greatest drop-offs, it was small pebble scree, which acted as ball bearings to roll you over the cliff. And the path would go uphill for kilometers, then bring us down down down an incredible steep path.
Poor thighs, poor knees, poor inner turmoil over the heights... just about everything I've always ABSOLUTELY LOVED about hikes, all rolled into one!
But ultimately, down a series of steps (about 250, I believe) was our first destination... a waterfall. With a deep pool to cool off in. What a welcome sight that water was.
A DIGRESSION. I noticed that steps in Thailand (and Laos) were never a consistent height, even within a given flight of stairs. So, there was never a chance to develop a rhythm for climbing. Two baby risers, followed by one designed for NBA centers, followed by 3 almost normal, then the gargantuan one and so on and so on. Did I already mention sore knees and sore quadriceps? OUCH! END OF DIGRESSION
Now you may or may not realize that, essentially, I am a one-armed person. And to reach the pool... this after navigating the varied steps to get down to the pool level... required using 2 arms and 2 legs to scramble over rocks to reach the pool. Thence to find a bush, behind which one might change to a swim suit.
I opted to sit in the shade and enjoy the relative coolness of the waterfall mist and shade. There was a large and beautiful blue butterfly that loved my backpack, so I got some interesting shots, cooled off and rejuvenated. I could hardly wait for the return stroll through the Thai mountains.
One of the enigmas about the first little hike was that Khan, our guide, did not come with us. Rather the 2 assistant guides led us. However, Khan was waiting for us by the cool pool. On the return trip, I found out about his ability to mysteriously beat us around the mountains. When we left, we walked over a bridge and started up another set (well over 500) of steps. Once at the top (did I mention sore knees and thighs?) we walked about 100 m., and there was our truck. The sneaky tour guides had led us on a 2 hour circuitous route to a destination that was, in reality, about 15 minutes away.
Khan, observant fellow that he is, noticed my deteriorated condition. And he offered to get me a "taxi" to take me to our evening destination. The others, poor sods, would do a further 3 hours of hiking. After a luch break, I agreed to the "taxi".
What a wimp...
The taxi turned out to be a 125 cc motorbike, with a young male driver. When he saw his passenger, he blanched, then ran to the nearest Buddhist shrine, where he lit 5 incense sticks and prayed for about 6.34 minutes. After this display of spirituality and confidence, he wheeled his bike to an air compressor and significantly increased the pressure in his rear tire. I believe, he may have crossed himself once or twice, just to be on the safe side!
Then he gave me a sickly grin and urged me to climb onto the passengers pavilion at the rear of the bike. (I may have stretched the truth about the shrine, incense, prayers and crossing himself... but he sure did pump up that rear tire.)
I climbed aboard, tucked my knees under my chin (so I could get my feet on the passenger foot rests) and adjusted my backpack, then reached behind myself to grab the panic bar.
Khan then gave the driver
A one vehicle Red Cross Relief and Refugee Caravan...
Off we roared... well chugged would be a more apt verb.
Over dirt roads (at least one lane wide... well maybe at MOST one lane wide), once again with precipitous drops to rugged canyons tens of thousands of meters below. With oncoming truck traffic whose drivers were practising to be F1 race drivers. Down steep slopes (with the only remaining muddy patches in all of Thailand) in a lower gear, and the driver standing on the brake pedal. Then up up up 20 degree slopes in yet a lower gear, with that poor little 125 cc engine gasping, wheezing, missing beats and laboring mightily to reach the top (reminded me of me walking up those bloody steps from the frikken waterfall!), only to have to use its rapidly diminishing compression to help brake us on our next descent. (There is a reasonable probability that the steep dropoffs may have been somewhat LESS than the measurement I remember.)
After just over 1/2 hour we arrived at the subsistence farm where we were to stay the night. And what do you know, the hill-tribe farmer... the one who we were told was not to be catered to, nor condescended to, nor spoiled by handouts... had a refrigerator stocked with cold beer, which he sold at a slight premium over the same bottle in a restaurant in Chiang Mai. Ahhhhhh... did that first bottle ever taste good.
So this representative of a lifestyle that stretched back for thousands of years had electricity. He'd set up a booth where his older kids sold handicrafts to us. There was a cookshack set up with a myriad of cast iron cooking pots of different sizes and shapes. Our sleeping quarters was a large dormitory on stilts, with nine mattresses, each with its own mosquito net. Attached to the dormitory was a large eating platform that had a movable cloth roof to shade us from the sun. AND the infamous Asian Toilet which I have previously described.
I stowed my backpack on the most comfortable mattress,,, an unexpected side effect of being a wimp was getting the best mattress.
About 2 hours later, my more intrepid companions arrived, staked out their own mattresses and started chugging beer. At that point a half dozen villagers (I never did see a village... just this one farm) appeared magically with beads, woven articles, knickknacks and geegaws to peddle. Seemed a tad commercialized, we all thought.
But not to cavil. It WAS fascinating, although primitive. Khan and his 2 apprentice guides started wood fires and cooked up an amazingly scrumptious 3 course meal. Thai soup... spicy and full of veggies and meat. Then a beef curry and a sort-of pork stir fry. Very very very good. So Khan was a great cook.
After supper, we sat around a campfire and Khan and the 2 guides pulled out guitars and serenaded us with Thai contemporary love songs. I chatted with Khan and found that he has his own band, where he is lead guitar and vocalist. The band is called "STRAW", with the added meaning of RICE STRAW. He explained that rice was the most important food in the Thai diet, and the grain is supported by the strong straw stem. Thus there is, I gather, almost a mystical feeling around the idea of rice straw. The man was profound, talented and a lot of fun. He is 25 year old, and could be a double for Genghis Khan... long black hair, dark olive complexion and a fierce mustache.
After a fairly restful sleep, the false dawn occurred. And the local roosters (about 2,379 of them) announced the new day for about 25 minutes, before they noticed that the darkness was still with us. (Sounds like a metaphor for life.) But of course, an hour or so later, when the sun did actually appear, all of those KFC candidates took to crowing long, loud and continually... AGAIN.
So we got up, and Khan prepared another camping feast of rice soup with chicken... a fairly typical Thai morning meal. I hope the one particularly loud and obnoxious rooster was part of my breakfast, but I wasn't sure.
And then to the next part of our hike, which we were assured was flat, except for the first 1/2 hour straight up, using ropes and crampons. (Maybe not quite that steep.) Oddly enough, either my knees were improving or the nerves were so dead that I no longer noticed the pain. Anyway, I completed the trip to the next waterfall, then on to where our truck awaited.
To finish the 2 day trek, we spent about 90 minutes on a bamboo raft, drifting down a river. Then, we had an hour ride on an elephant. They are ponderous creatures, certainly, but can go up and down slopes that would have humans on their hands and knees.
Then a 2 hour drive back to ChiangMai, and a SHOWER. Plus a soft bed, in an airconditioned room.
What a wimp!
You may recall, since I mentioned it earlier, that the travel agent who arranged this lovely tour had put me in the "soft" tour. He commented, at the time I was talking to him, that "young people go on the 3 day tour". Get that? YOUNG PEOPLE... not "younger" people. Just WHAT was he trying to tell me?
I was a tad miffed, but I never said anything.
The trek originated in the north central city of Chiang Mai. The evening before my trek, I sat down with the guide (Khan... more on him, later) and listened as he briefly outlined what we were to bring, what we could expect, and we were warned that the mountain-tribe villager we'd stay with at night was someone who was unused to "civilization" and was not to be given handouts, nor in anyway "polluted" by our worldliness. At last... the chance to finally view an indigenous SEAsia hilltribe representative who lived as did his ancestors thousands of years ago.
As I listened, I viewed my fellow-travellers. (This being said with no political overtones intended.) Two girls from New Zealand, two girls from Sweden, two girls from England, a couple from Spain, and good ol' what's his name... Garry. I liked the ratio. ALL the others spoke English, but were signed up for the 3 day tour.
Could I be going on a 1 person, guided tour, I wondered... or perhaps I'd go with this group for 2 days, then be brought back to Chiang Mai.
NO.
The next day, I was picked up (with NO SIGN of the others) and whisked around Chiang Mai on the back of a small truck. Said truck had slightly padded bench seats, with a shell canopy, but open sides. Whilst being "whisked" about, we picked up a French family of 3 (Dad, Mom, teenaged daughter), 3 Japanese male university students, and two male Frenchmen. The ratio was very disappointing. However, the only common language we had was English, so we did somewhat bond over the 2 days.
The nine of us sped along Thai highways, bouncing, jostling, hanging on for dear life, in the hot air slipstream of the open truck for an hour. We stopped at some village and were urged to get water, eat, and look around. That took a half hour.
A DIGRESSION. You may be surprised to know that I REALLY pay attention to food when I travel. (OK... I really pay attention to food... PERIOD!) At this village I discovered a delectable confection... name unknown. It SEEMS to be ground up milky-consistency coconut which is spooned into a muffin tin and cooked over coals. It hardens up, browns on the bottom and becomes custard-like on top. Very very very tasty. I shall try to replicate the recipe, back in Canada. END OF DIGRESSION
We spent another hot, dusty and enjoyable hour bouncing on ever decreasingly comfortable roads. Thence to our starting point. Man, it was hot... but it was now Noon, in Thailand, at the start of their HOT season. Mr. Kipling could have entitled his poem "MAD DOGS AND THAI TREKKERS GO OUT IN THE NOON-DAY SUN".
And go out we did... with backpacks filled with water, change of clothing, sunscreen, bug repellant... and whatever else we may have slipped in... knowing for sure we (I) would need it sometime during the little hike.
What a joy the path was, sloped pleasantly toward the ever-present 100 m. dropoff, sometimes reaching a maximum of 25 cm. The path was mostly dried mud, although at its most sloped and with the greatest drop-offs, it was small pebble scree, which acted as ball bearings to roll you over the cliff. And the path would go uphill for kilometers, then bring us down down down an incredible steep path.
Poor thighs, poor knees, poor inner turmoil over the heights... just about everything I've always ABSOLUTELY LOVED about hikes, all rolled into one!
But ultimately, down a series of steps (about 250, I believe) was our first destination... a waterfall. With a deep pool to cool off in. What a welcome sight that water was.
A DIGRESSION. I noticed that steps in Thailand (and Laos) were never a consistent height, even within a given flight of stairs. So, there was never a chance to develop a rhythm for climbing. Two baby risers, followed by one designed for NBA centers, followed by 3 almost normal, then the gargantuan one and so on and so on. Did I already mention sore knees and sore quadriceps? OUCH! END OF DIGRESSION
Now you may or may not realize that, essentially, I am a one-armed person. And to reach the pool... this after navigating the varied steps to get down to the pool level... required using 2 arms and 2 legs to scramble over rocks to reach the pool. Thence to find a bush, behind which one might change to a swim suit.
I opted to sit in the shade and enjoy the relative coolness of the waterfall mist and shade. There was a large and beautiful blue butterfly that loved my backpack, so I got some interesting shots, cooled off and rejuvenated. I could hardly wait for the return stroll through the Thai mountains.
One of the enigmas about the first little hike was that Khan, our guide, did not come with us. Rather the 2 assistant guides led us. However, Khan was waiting for us by the cool pool. On the return trip, I found out about his ability to mysteriously beat us around the mountains. When we left, we walked over a bridge and started up another set (well over 500) of steps. Once at the top (did I mention sore knees and thighs?) we walked about 100 m., and there was our truck. The sneaky tour guides had led us on a 2 hour circuitous route to a destination that was, in reality, about 15 minutes away.
Khan, observant fellow that he is, noticed my deteriorated condition. And he offered to get me a "taxi" to take me to our evening destination. The others, poor sods, would do a further 3 hours of hiking. After a luch break, I agreed to the "taxi".
What a wimp...
The taxi turned out to be a 125 cc motorbike, with a young male driver. When he saw his passenger, he blanched, then ran to the nearest Buddhist shrine, where he lit 5 incense sticks and prayed for about 6.34 minutes. After this display of spirituality and confidence, he wheeled his bike to an air compressor and significantly increased the pressure in his rear tire. I believe, he may have crossed himself once or twice, just to be on the safe side!
Then he gave me a sickly grin and urged me to climb onto the passengers pavilion at the rear of the bike. (I may have stretched the truth about the shrine, incense, prayers and crossing himself... but he sure did pump up that rear tire.)
I climbed aboard, tucked my knees under my chin (so I could get my feet on the passenger foot rests) and adjusted my backpack, then reached behind myself to grab the panic bar.
Khan then gave the driver
- an immense sack of food, which was balanced on the gas tank ,
- a backpack, which the driver wore on his chest, and
- two large plastic grocery bags... full to the brim... which were draped over the handle bars.
A one vehicle Red Cross Relief and Refugee Caravan...
Off we roared... well chugged would be a more apt verb.
Over dirt roads (at least one lane wide... well maybe at MOST one lane wide), once again with precipitous drops to rugged canyons tens of thousands of meters below. With oncoming truck traffic whose drivers were practising to be F1 race drivers. Down steep slopes (with the only remaining muddy patches in all of Thailand) in a lower gear, and the driver standing on the brake pedal. Then up up up 20 degree slopes in yet a lower gear, with that poor little 125 cc engine gasping, wheezing, missing beats and laboring mightily to reach the top (reminded me of me walking up those bloody steps from the frikken waterfall!), only to have to use its rapidly diminishing compression to help brake us on our next descent. (There is a reasonable probability that the steep dropoffs may have been somewhat LESS than the measurement I remember.)
After just over 1/2 hour we arrived at the subsistence farm where we were to stay the night. And what do you know, the hill-tribe farmer... the one who we were told was not to be catered to, nor condescended to, nor spoiled by handouts... had a refrigerator stocked with cold beer, which he sold at a slight premium over the same bottle in a restaurant in Chiang Mai. Ahhhhhh... did that first bottle ever taste good.
So this representative of a lifestyle that stretched back for thousands of years had electricity. He'd set up a booth where his older kids sold handicrafts to us. There was a cookshack set up with a myriad of cast iron cooking pots of different sizes and shapes. Our sleeping quarters was a large dormitory on stilts, with nine mattresses, each with its own mosquito net. Attached to the dormitory was a large eating platform that had a movable cloth roof to shade us from the sun. AND the infamous Asian Toilet which I have previously described.
I stowed my backpack on the most comfortable mattress,,, an unexpected side effect of being a wimp was getting the best mattress.
About 2 hours later, my more intrepid companions arrived, staked out their own mattresses and started chugging beer. At that point a half dozen villagers (I never did see a village... just this one farm) appeared magically with beads, woven articles, knickknacks and geegaws to peddle. Seemed a tad commercialized, we all thought.
But not to cavil. It WAS fascinating, although primitive. Khan and his 2 apprentice guides started wood fires and cooked up an amazingly scrumptious 3 course meal. Thai soup... spicy and full of veggies and meat. Then a beef curry and a sort-of pork stir fry. Very very very good. So Khan was a great cook.
After supper, we sat around a campfire and Khan and the 2 guides pulled out guitars and serenaded us with Thai contemporary love songs. I chatted with Khan and found that he has his own band, where he is lead guitar and vocalist. The band is called "STRAW", with the added meaning of RICE STRAW. He explained that rice was the most important food in the Thai diet, and the grain is supported by the strong straw stem. Thus there is, I gather, almost a mystical feeling around the idea of rice straw. The man was profound, talented and a lot of fun. He is 25 year old, and could be a double for Genghis Khan... long black hair, dark olive complexion and a fierce mustache.
After a fairly restful sleep, the false dawn occurred. And the local roosters (about 2,379 of them) announced the new day for about 25 minutes, before they noticed that the darkness was still with us. (Sounds like a metaphor for life.) But of course, an hour or so later, when the sun did actually appear, all of those KFC candidates took to crowing long, loud and continually... AGAIN.
So we got up, and Khan prepared another camping feast of rice soup with chicken... a fairly typical Thai morning meal. I hope the one particularly loud and obnoxious rooster was part of my breakfast, but I wasn't sure.
And then to the next part of our hike, which we were assured was flat, except for the first 1/2 hour straight up, using ropes and crampons. (Maybe not quite that steep.) Oddly enough, either my knees were improving or the nerves were so dead that I no longer noticed the pain. Anyway, I completed the trip to the next waterfall, then on to where our truck awaited.
To finish the 2 day trek, we spent about 90 minutes on a bamboo raft, drifting down a river. Then, we had an hour ride on an elephant. They are ponderous creatures, certainly, but can go up and down slopes that would have humans on their hands and knees.
Then a 2 hour drive back to ChiangMai, and a SHOWER. Plus a soft bed, in an airconditioned room.
What a wimp!
And now, for my story of the trip, by slow boat, down the Mekong River in Laos, wherein I ended up at LuangPrabang.
After recovering from my 2-day/1-night little stroll through the mountains of Northern Thailand, I hopped (squeezed) into an air-conditioned minivan and spent the better part of one day travelling yet further North in Thailand, until we (8 of us, two American girls, two Swedish girls, an Australian man, and two Swedish men, plus moi) reached a town, on the Thai side of the Mekong, whence we overnighted (to coin a verb).
All of us were worried that we might NEVER make it since Thai drivers are careless, take too many chances and don't seem to care what side of the road they drive on. But, in this Universe, I arrived safely.
The next morning, we took small power boats acroos the Mekong into Laos and completed immigration tasks. Plus got hustled into getting a room for our overnight half way through the trip.
And then onto the slow boat. A vessel about 25 m. long and 3 m. wide, with a chugchug diesel motor at the back. Our luggage was slung into a covered room behind the engine, while we sat under a canopy on wooden seats covered with a VERY thin vinyl covering. Then we backed out of our mooring and turned around and ran aground on a sand bar. Luckily the majority of the non-Laotian passenges were young travellers in their 20s. The men stripped down, jumped into the water and spent about 45 minutes getting us unjammed and underway.
I fear for the diseases they may have picked up during the almost hour they were in the murky waters of the Mekong. And I was wondering if the start of the trip was a foreshadowing of what was to come.
Luckily it wasn't.
The trip was essentially uneventful. There was lot of brown water, since the Mekong is a fairly large waterway. There were lots of hillside farms and villages. Every rock (and the Mekong is FULL of very large rocks... virtual islands) had an ingenious fishing net set up to capture whatever was swept down the river and around the rocks. Hopefully, fish were a significant portion of what was netted.
Around dusk when we landed at our overnight village, we were swarmed by young boys who carried our bags up the precipitous banks to the guest houses up above, for a modest fee.
Once again, the stairs up these slopes had risers that varied from 2 inches to about 20 inches... but I've already whined about those in a previous update.
After a fairly restful sleep, under a mosquito net, we had a breakfast, bought a box lunch and water, then back to the boat.
Did I mention the thinly padded seats? Talk about ass rot... OK, enough talk about ass rot. ALL of us noticed other slow boats which had airplance style seats... I think we "got took" by our travel agent!
So what was my overall impression of this whole adventure? First I was overwhelmed with the realization that I, Garry, was on the Mekong River, in Laos, in Indo-China, in SEAsia. What an amazing realization. But second, about a 2 hour trip would have shown me all there was to see. Now I realize that is very mean-spirited... BUT... the water was universally brown and fast-moving, the rocks all stuck out at interesting angles, the villages all were thatched, on stilts, up steep slopes. I think the young people had the right idea... they drank beer ALL DAY LONG, and were oblivious to everything... well that's what they did on the first day. On the second, they nursed handovers and groaned a lot.
Towards evening on day 2, we arrive at LuangPrabang... "the Jewel of the Mekong". The guidebooks univesally praise this small city. One of my well-travelled friends says it is his favorite city in Asia. An, indeed, it is a gem of a place. Low key, slow, beuatiful, balmy climate, inexpensive, calm, friendly... I spent 4 days doing nothing there. I'd get up, shower and go for a leisurely breakfast. I'd sit ourside and watch the people move by... walking... on scooters... on tuk-tuks (really primitive compared to Thailand)... in trucks... somnetimes in cars. Nobody in a hurry, everyone polite... no trying to take out pedestrians. Then I'd walk around town, then go for an hour massage. And what do you know, it was lunch time. After lunch, the temperature would increase, and I'd go for a siesta. When I awoke about 5... guess what? SUPPER TIME!
Then stroll along the kilometre long night market and stare in wonderment at the jewellery, weaving, wood products... and since there were hundreds of food vendors... I'd have a late night (about 8 pm) snack. I found those coconut delectables here, too. Then to bed.
Talk about relaxed!
Then one morning (about day 4) at breakfast, it dawned on me that I was not really seeing much of SEAsia. And I knew that Australia was near, with two good buddies living in Canberra. So I finished breakfast, walked across to a travel agent and got tickets to Australia.
I spent the entire next day (a Saturday) sitting on airplanes or in airports... finally arriving in Sydney, Australia around 10 a.m.. Then by bus to Canberra, where I am staying with my cousin. I have another buddy here, retired, who is squiring me around and acting as a tour guide.
Feels good to see someone I know. (DAMN... but I MAY have been a bit lonely during my first few weeks.)
More on Australia, later.
After recovering from my 2-day/1-night little stroll through the mountains of Northern Thailand, I hopped (squeezed) into an air-conditioned minivan and spent the better part of one day travelling yet further North in Thailand, until we (8 of us, two American girls, two Swedish girls, an Australian man, and two Swedish men, plus moi) reached a town, on the Thai side of the Mekong, whence we overnighted (to coin a verb).
All of us were worried that we might NEVER make it since Thai drivers are careless, take too many chances and don't seem to care what side of the road they drive on. But, in this Universe, I arrived safely.
The next morning, we took small power boats acroos the Mekong into Laos and completed immigration tasks. Plus got hustled into getting a room for our overnight half way through the trip.
And then onto the slow boat. A vessel about 25 m. long and 3 m. wide, with a chugchug diesel motor at the back. Our luggage was slung into a covered room behind the engine, while we sat under a canopy on wooden seats covered with a VERY thin vinyl covering. Then we backed out of our mooring and turned around and ran aground on a sand bar. Luckily the majority of the non-Laotian passenges were young travellers in their 20s. The men stripped down, jumped into the water and spent about 45 minutes getting us unjammed and underway.
I fear for the diseases they may have picked up during the almost hour they were in the murky waters of the Mekong. And I was wondering if the start of the trip was a foreshadowing of what was to come.
Luckily it wasn't.
The trip was essentially uneventful. There was lot of brown water, since the Mekong is a fairly large waterway. There were lots of hillside farms and villages. Every rock (and the Mekong is FULL of very large rocks... virtual islands) had an ingenious fishing net set up to capture whatever was swept down the river and around the rocks. Hopefully, fish were a significant portion of what was netted.
Around dusk when we landed at our overnight village, we were swarmed by young boys who carried our bags up the precipitous banks to the guest houses up above, for a modest fee.
Once again, the stairs up these slopes had risers that varied from 2 inches to about 20 inches... but I've already whined about those in a previous update.
After a fairly restful sleep, under a mosquito net, we had a breakfast, bought a box lunch and water, then back to the boat.
Did I mention the thinly padded seats? Talk about ass rot... OK, enough talk about ass rot. ALL of us noticed other slow boats which had airplance style seats... I think we "got took" by our travel agent!
So what was my overall impression of this whole adventure? First I was overwhelmed with the realization that I, Garry, was on the Mekong River, in Laos, in Indo-China, in SEAsia. What an amazing realization. But second, about a 2 hour trip would have shown me all there was to see. Now I realize that is very mean-spirited... BUT... the water was universally brown and fast-moving, the rocks all stuck out at interesting angles, the villages all were thatched, on stilts, up steep slopes. I think the young people had the right idea... they drank beer ALL DAY LONG, and were oblivious to everything... well that's what they did on the first day. On the second, they nursed handovers and groaned a lot.
Towards evening on day 2, we arrive at LuangPrabang... "the Jewel of the Mekong". The guidebooks univesally praise this small city. One of my well-travelled friends says it is his favorite city in Asia. An, indeed, it is a gem of a place. Low key, slow, beuatiful, balmy climate, inexpensive, calm, friendly... I spent 4 days doing nothing there. I'd get up, shower and go for a leisurely breakfast. I'd sit ourside and watch the people move by... walking... on scooters... on tuk-tuks (really primitive compared to Thailand)... in trucks... somnetimes in cars. Nobody in a hurry, everyone polite... no trying to take out pedestrians. Then I'd walk around town, then go for an hour massage. And what do you know, it was lunch time. After lunch, the temperature would increase, and I'd go for a siesta. When I awoke about 5... guess what? SUPPER TIME!
Then stroll along the kilometre long night market and stare in wonderment at the jewellery, weaving, wood products... and since there were hundreds of food vendors... I'd have a late night (about 8 pm) snack. I found those coconut delectables here, too. Then to bed.
Talk about relaxed!
Then one morning (about day 4) at breakfast, it dawned on me that I was not really seeing much of SEAsia. And I knew that Australia was near, with two good buddies living in Canberra. So I finished breakfast, walked across to a travel agent and got tickets to Australia.
I spent the entire next day (a Saturday) sitting on airplanes or in airports... finally arriving in Sydney, Australia around 10 a.m.. Then by bus to Canberra, where I am staying with my cousin. I have another buddy here, retired, who is squiring me around and acting as a tour guide.
Feels good to see someone I know. (DAMN... but I MAY have been a bit lonely during my first few weeks.)
More on Australia, later.
Before the whole week slips my mind (old age, you know), I need to write to you about Australia.
First, it is amazingly comforting to hear English continually (well, OK... it was Australian, but that's close to English.) When one of my buddies came to pick me up (he acted as my daytime tour guide during my time there) he said "My God, at last! Someone who speaks like I do!".. And he's been in Australia almost 30 years.
I really lucked out. I stayed at my cousin's home. My friend from my Calgary days was my tour guide. And his car had airconditioning. Close to being Nirvana (but not quite there... Nirvana is VERY HARD to attain!) I suspect this sounds like some type of cavil... not so... I had a smashing time in Australia.
Here are some "snapshot" impressions.
Canberra is a very cool city. It is a "planned" city (like Washington DC, in ways) and is laid back soothingly, and laid out pleasantly. Both my friends think it's an ideal city, and both would be reluctant to leave. Industrial sections, shopping centres and the like are separated by wide green belts from residential areas.
Sydney, on the other hand, is noisy, crowded, exciting, smelly and terrifically dynamic. Since it is built on a monstrous harbour, there is a network of public ferries that take one across the harbour to several dozens of destinations. Beaches, residential areas, industrial docks, great seafood restaurants. The cost for a day ticket is $2.oo (for Australian seniors with a special card) or $15.00 for everyone else. CHEAP,huh? I was really entranced with the ferry system... the breeze from the ferry's passage was a welcome respite from the heat.
AUSTRALIA IS HOT! And this was, supposedly, Fall in Australia.
And speaking of HOT. The Australian women, at the surfer beach at Manly harbour (Sydney)must constitute the largest collection of beautiful women ANYWHERE! I heard some young American and British men make this comment. I never noticed myself. Nor did either of my 2 friends during the 36 hours (cumulative) that we sat on a bench, at the beach, watching.
Australian food is great. (So is Thai, Laotian and Vietnamese... but that's just a personal bias! plus Canadian, American, French...) I was urged to try an Australian Burger... 1/2 pound of very tasty beef, lettuce, tomatoes, onions, fried egg, bacon, pineapple, beet root... and I've likely missed out something. So filling... And Australian prawns (you know "shrimp on the barbie"?) plus fish and chips need to be experienced. The beer and wine are more than OK, too.
There is NO tipping in Australia. Man, is that a refreshing novel idea. Apparently, service industry personnel get a decent wage, plus benefits. No exploiting 15 year old kids for the fast food industry.
Next update... Vietnam... I'm being overwhelmed with sounds, sights, smells, tastes... And my camera is on the fritz, again.
AN ADDENDUM
I have LOST too many things on the trip. First my travel book, and I'm too cheap to purchase another. Then my super-absorbent, fast-drying towel. BUT WORST OF ALL.. my Tilley Hat (my beautiful Tilley Hat. My wonderfully functional Tilley Hat. My birthday present Tilley Hat. My really cool Tilley Hat. My super sunblocker Tilley Hat. My draw appreciative comments of sartorial splendour Tilley Hat.) blew off my head during one of the ferry trips across Sydney Harbour. SOB... SNIFF... WHINE
END OF ADDENDUM
First, it is amazingly comforting to hear English continually (well, OK... it was Australian, but that's close to English.) When one of my buddies came to pick me up (he acted as my daytime tour guide during my time there) he said "My God, at last! Someone who speaks like I do!".. And he's been in Australia almost 30 years.
I really lucked out. I stayed at my cousin's home. My friend from my Calgary days was my tour guide. And his car had airconditioning. Close to being Nirvana (but not quite there... Nirvana is VERY HARD to attain!) I suspect this sounds like some type of cavil... not so... I had a smashing time in Australia.
Here are some "snapshot" impressions.
Canberra is a very cool city. It is a "planned" city (like Washington DC, in ways) and is laid back soothingly, and laid out pleasantly. Both my friends think it's an ideal city, and both would be reluctant to leave. Industrial sections, shopping centres and the like are separated by wide green belts from residential areas.
Sydney, on the other hand, is noisy, crowded, exciting, smelly and terrifically dynamic. Since it is built on a monstrous harbour, there is a network of public ferries that take one across the harbour to several dozens of destinations. Beaches, residential areas, industrial docks, great seafood restaurants. The cost for a day ticket is $2.oo (for Australian seniors with a special card) or $15.00 for everyone else. CHEAP,huh? I was really entranced with the ferry system... the breeze from the ferry's passage was a welcome respite from the heat.
AUSTRALIA IS HOT! And this was, supposedly, Fall in Australia.
And speaking of HOT. The Australian women, at the surfer beach at Manly harbour (Sydney)must constitute the largest collection of beautiful women ANYWHERE! I heard some young American and British men make this comment. I never noticed myself. Nor did either of my 2 friends during the 36 hours (cumulative) that we sat on a bench, at the beach, watching.
Australian food is great. (So is Thai, Laotian and Vietnamese... but that's just a personal bias! plus Canadian, American, French...) I was urged to try an Australian Burger... 1/2 pound of very tasty beef, lettuce, tomatoes, onions, fried egg, bacon, pineapple, beet root... and I've likely missed out something. So filling... And Australian prawns (you know "shrimp on the barbie"?) plus fish and chips need to be experienced. The beer and wine are more than OK, too.
There is NO tipping in Australia. Man, is that a refreshing novel idea. Apparently, service industry personnel get a decent wage, plus benefits. No exploiting 15 year old kids for the fast food industry.
Next update... Vietnam... I'm being overwhelmed with sounds, sights, smells, tastes... And my camera is on the fritz, again.
AN ADDENDUM
I have LOST too many things on the trip. First my travel book, and I'm too cheap to purchase another. Then my super-absorbent, fast-drying towel. BUT WORST OF ALL.. my Tilley Hat (my beautiful Tilley Hat. My wonderfully functional Tilley Hat. My birthday present Tilley Hat. My really cool Tilley Hat. My super sunblocker Tilley Hat. My draw appreciative comments of sartorial splendour Tilley Hat.) blew off my head during one of the ferry trips across Sydney Harbour. SOB... SNIFF... WHINE
END OF ADDENDUM
I have several (long-winded, I fear) observations about Vietnam.
VEHICUALR TRAFFIC
The first has to do with driving habits. In Thailand, I found the drivers to be haphazard, reckless and frightening. In Laos (and I have experience with one city there, only) I found them to be laid back, cautious and polite.
In Vietnam, I’d characterize drivers as “cool”. There seems to be one rule of the road for drivers. If the vehicle is bigger than yours, and it honks its horn, get as far to the right as you can as fast as you can!
In Vietnam, size DOES count.
I sprang some big bucks for a few private tours in Vietnam, and I got a tour guide, a new car, and a driver. The tour guide assured me the driver was one of the best. The guy would have been jailed, likely a life-sentence, in Canada… extreme reckless driving. But it worked like a charm in Vietnam.
Since 90% of the vehicles on the road are motor scooters, the car had a defacto right-of-way. And this guy took it. HONK HONK continuously as he slid between, around, and beside bikes, smaller cars and the multitude of sidewalk-to-sidewalk scooters. And mostly the scooters moved over, and he accelerated by.
Turns are allowed left or right from ANY LANE of traffic. So my driver would be in the left lane and make an abrupt right turn onto a side street. And the same with a right hand turn from the far left lane. In fact, the painted arrows on the road show straight PLUS a right or left turn from ALL lanes.
He’d signal, but wouldn’t bother to see if anyone was beside him, in front of him, parked or over-taking him. Just turned, and the lesser mortals gave way, without rancour. Just the way it is in Vietnam.
On the highway, it was even worse. On one four lane highway, my driver was in the inside (left) lane and had big trucks in front of him (about 5 trucks) and a similar number beside and ahead of him in the right hand lane. So he pulled across a triple solid line into the oncoming traffic, honked his bloody horn, and accelerated past all the trucks blocking his rightful passage. And oncoming traffic all slid sideways to give him room.
I think the driving is one of the reasons that there are so many Buddhist shrines in Vietnam… they need all the divine intervention they can get to keep the population safe from “cool” drivers.
The peculiar thing, for me, was the fact that the incredibly dense traffic moves smoothly, quickly and without incident even though all the drivers use these techniques. Perhaps it is because all the drivers use these techniques that things work so well. I seldom saw anyone NOT pull over when they were honked at by a bigger vehicle that was going faster. And scooters and bikes got out of the way of right and left turning vehicles.
It works. Scary for me, but we certainly made good progress both in Saigon (which is insanely crowded) and on the highways.
One item about the highways I found odd. It looks like the roads were built to a distance of about 5 metres from any overpass or bridge, but to a level of one meter below the height of the bridge. Then an abrupt ramp was built to connect the road to the bridge. The consequence is that everyone has to drastically slow down (even on the national Toll Highway) to negotiate the incredibly steep incline onto and off the bridges.
Pedestrians do NOT have the right of way in any of the countries I visited (including Australia). Now in Vietnam, the pedestrians are the epitome of cool. To cross a road, you start anywhere (except at a corner, I noticed) and angle toward the place you’d like to end up. The key to being ultra-cool is to not stop, nor vary your speed, but to step into an open space, let scooters, bikes, cars, trucks, buses etc. whiz past, then look for another open space and continue strolling to the other side. On the diagonal, you understand, never directly across. Pedestrians understand that the hypotenuse is the shortest distance between 2 points.
But not THIS PEDESTRIAN. I approached all street-crossings, using the normal to the curb. (“Normal” and "Hypotenuse" are highly technical mathematical terms that I shall explain, for a fee, to anyone who enquires.) I did approximate a strolling pace, appeared nonchalant, and learned to NOT sprint the last few metres to safety as teenagers on motor scooters honked and aimed at me. But I wasn’t comfortable with the whole scenario.
BEING HUSTLED #1 (this may prove offensive to some… OOPS… too bad)
Vietnam is characterized by entrepreneurial hustlers. The lower class of hustler (poorest people, I’d imagine) peddles packages of gum. The type of product and price increase up to someone with jewellery and crafts. They can be a pain in the posterior, but they’re just trying to make a buck (or “dong”, as the currency is known in Vietnam. About 16,000 dong to $1 US)
A DIGRESSION Vietnam is a communist country. However, I’m convinced there are more shopkeepers, entrepreneurs, peddlers and hustlers than in any other country I’ve ever seen; though Laos comes close. END OF DIGRESSION
I was quite thoroughly hustled by two ladies. To start, the first… I guess “lady” will do.
In this instance, I was convinced I was in a “B” movie from the 1940s or 1950s. I was in a bar (not too sleazy, although if one looks TOO closely, all Vietnamese bars are sleazy) having my usual beer. An extremely… I shall use use the word “charming”… charming young (REALLY young) lady sat down at my table, leaned forward (never mind!) took my hand and said, “You are so handsome!”
A DIGRESSION I certainly get that comment a lot. One of the curses of my life. END OF DIGRESSION
I REALLY thought I was in one of those cheap films, wherein the handsome hero is accosted (perhaps a bit strong for the verb) by a nubile “B girl” (I think that’s what they were known as) who would turn out to have a heart of gold, did the sleaze bit to pay for her mother’s critical operation, and would end up marrying said handsome hero. Honest, all those thoughts flitted through my mind prior to her next statement which was…
“Will you buy me a drink?”
I could have written this script! I almost laughed… it was soooooooo melodramatic. Now, I suppose the smart thing to do was to say “Get lost, little girl”… however I still had 2/3 of my beer to finish, it was way too hot to go outside, and anyway, “nubile” does NOT COME CLOSE to describing this particular lady. Thus my response…
“How much?” (Always the romantic approach for Garry)
“Forty thousand dong”, which, given my fantastic mathematical mind, I figured was somewhere between 1 and 5 dollars US. What’s that… $16.94 Canadian?
I concurred and she got up and gave me a wet buss on the left cheek. Miraculously a drink appeared in front of her within a few seconds. I suspect it was coke, milk and ice (I’ve seen lots of those films, so I know how this scene plays out!)
So she sipped her “drink”. I sluiced down beer, and she started to ask me fairly personal questions, although not suggestive! (Where did my movie go wrong?)
After a few moments of her atrocious English, and my incipient (incipient hell, actual) deafness, I finished my beer and made as if to leave. So she started feeding me peanuts and popcorn, bowls of which came with my beer. One by one from her fingers to my lips. This was a high-class sleazy bar.
A DIGRESSION I sure hope she’d washed sometime during the previous couple of hours. END OF DIGRESSION.
After a few minutes of goodies rammed down my gullet, I asked her how old she was. She was 27. (Maybe, but what do I know?)
The she asked if I thought she was beautiful. (At last, the movie was back on track.) I agreed she was, indeed gorgeous, and then said, “But you are just a baby.”
Well that sort of ruined that particular movie, because she actually got a little huffy. But that was OK… the peanuts were gone, I’d finished my beer, and her coke was almost empty.
Thus ended the first hustle.
BEING HUSTLED #2
When I arrived in Saigon, before I even left the airport, I booked a hotel and 3 tours. And I didn’t go for the completely broke 25-year-old European male type of tour either. I’d nearly died on one of those in Thailand… well, anyway, my knees took quite a beating.
Nope… I got a tour guide, a car and a driver. Of course, you already knew that, didn’t you?
My tour guide was a charming married lady who was taking English and tour guide studies at University. She was a gem.
She has a passion for Vietnam… history… people… culture… handicrafts. And she spoke fairly good English, and I could actually understand what she said. So we did the following
1. A visit to a series of tunnels used by the Viet Cong to ambush the Americans during the America War (NOT the Vietnamese War, you understand. I guess the truth is in the eye of the invaded.)
2. A visit to the main temple of a fairly new religion that combines, Confucianism, Islam Buddhism and Christianity. It is called Caocai (I think… must look that up!)
A DIGRESSION I find it interesting that women are still considered second-class citizens in this religion. Can’t become the high muckeymuck. Can’t lead any ceremonies. SAME SAME, but NOT different… to paraphrase a common saying on t-shirts in SE Asia. END OF DIGRESSION
3. A one-day tour of the Mekong Delta, wherein I saw a bit of the life of rural Vietnamese.
After this last tour, I took Mrs. Chi (tour guide) and her 10-year-old daughter for supper… and Mrs. C. hustled me.
She laid out a tour of central Vietnam, with her as tour guide, wherein she would hire a car and driver and take me to out-of-the-way spots with unusual temples, unusual handicrafts and so on. AND we would get to travel together on an overnight train between Saigon and Da Nang.
This sounded waaaaay better than the baby in the bar.
So I forked over a tonne of US dollars and left my next 5 days in her capable hands.
Did you know that Vietnamese sleeper trains have two rows of bunks in 3 tiers in each compartment? No seats, just six beds stacked up two walls. So I got to spend a rather sleepless night with 5 Vietnamese in a cramped, but air-conditioned, pitching, slamming, whirl-a-gig coach that reminded me of some of the rides on the (former) Klondike Days midway. The ride on the Thai overnight train was far more comfortable, and far less intimate in that I never made such close contact with the other sleepers in the Thai railway car.
Cheek by jowl is the saying I’m looking for, I believe.
Well, this was a hustle I’d recommend. I’ve already alluded to Mrs. Chi’s professionalism and passion for things Vietnamese. I even got taken to meet her 93-year-old grandmother who thought it was scandalous that I’d left my wife at home. But not scandalous that Mrs. C. and I were touring together. Of course the fact that I was in a hotel and she was bunking with her cousin likely helped.
I like Vietnam. I think everyone should visit here. And if you decide to visit and you need a good tour guide… seek me out.
I know a real gem.
VEHICUALR TRAFFIC
The first has to do with driving habits. In Thailand, I found the drivers to be haphazard, reckless and frightening. In Laos (and I have experience with one city there, only) I found them to be laid back, cautious and polite.
In Vietnam, I’d characterize drivers as “cool”. There seems to be one rule of the road for drivers. If the vehicle is bigger than yours, and it honks its horn, get as far to the right as you can as fast as you can!
In Vietnam, size DOES count.
I sprang some big bucks for a few private tours in Vietnam, and I got a tour guide, a new car, and a driver. The tour guide assured me the driver was one of the best. The guy would have been jailed, likely a life-sentence, in Canada… extreme reckless driving. But it worked like a charm in Vietnam.
Since 90% of the vehicles on the road are motor scooters, the car had a defacto right-of-way. And this guy took it. HONK HONK continuously as he slid between, around, and beside bikes, smaller cars and the multitude of sidewalk-to-sidewalk scooters. And mostly the scooters moved over, and he accelerated by.
Turns are allowed left or right from ANY LANE of traffic. So my driver would be in the left lane and make an abrupt right turn onto a side street. And the same with a right hand turn from the far left lane. In fact, the painted arrows on the road show straight PLUS a right or left turn from ALL lanes.
He’d signal, but wouldn’t bother to see if anyone was beside him, in front of him, parked or over-taking him. Just turned, and the lesser mortals gave way, without rancour. Just the way it is in Vietnam.
On the highway, it was even worse. On one four lane highway, my driver was in the inside (left) lane and had big trucks in front of him (about 5 trucks) and a similar number beside and ahead of him in the right hand lane. So he pulled across a triple solid line into the oncoming traffic, honked his bloody horn, and accelerated past all the trucks blocking his rightful passage. And oncoming traffic all slid sideways to give him room.
I think the driving is one of the reasons that there are so many Buddhist shrines in Vietnam… they need all the divine intervention they can get to keep the population safe from “cool” drivers.
The peculiar thing, for me, was the fact that the incredibly dense traffic moves smoothly, quickly and without incident even though all the drivers use these techniques. Perhaps it is because all the drivers use these techniques that things work so well. I seldom saw anyone NOT pull over when they were honked at by a bigger vehicle that was going faster. And scooters and bikes got out of the way of right and left turning vehicles.
It works. Scary for me, but we certainly made good progress both in Saigon (which is insanely crowded) and on the highways.
One item about the highways I found odd. It looks like the roads were built to a distance of about 5 metres from any overpass or bridge, but to a level of one meter below the height of the bridge. Then an abrupt ramp was built to connect the road to the bridge. The consequence is that everyone has to drastically slow down (even on the national Toll Highway) to negotiate the incredibly steep incline onto and off the bridges.
Pedestrians do NOT have the right of way in any of the countries I visited (including Australia). Now in Vietnam, the pedestrians are the epitome of cool. To cross a road, you start anywhere (except at a corner, I noticed) and angle toward the place you’d like to end up. The key to being ultra-cool is to not stop, nor vary your speed, but to step into an open space, let scooters, bikes, cars, trucks, buses etc. whiz past, then look for another open space and continue strolling to the other side. On the diagonal, you understand, never directly across. Pedestrians understand that the hypotenuse is the shortest distance between 2 points.
But not THIS PEDESTRIAN. I approached all street-crossings, using the normal to the curb. (“Normal” and "Hypotenuse" are highly technical mathematical terms that I shall explain, for a fee, to anyone who enquires.) I did approximate a strolling pace, appeared nonchalant, and learned to NOT sprint the last few metres to safety as teenagers on motor scooters honked and aimed at me. But I wasn’t comfortable with the whole scenario.
BEING HUSTLED #1 (this may prove offensive to some… OOPS… too bad)
Vietnam is characterized by entrepreneurial hustlers. The lower class of hustler (poorest people, I’d imagine) peddles packages of gum. The type of product and price increase up to someone with jewellery and crafts. They can be a pain in the posterior, but they’re just trying to make a buck (or “dong”, as the currency is known in Vietnam. About 16,000 dong to $1 US)
A DIGRESSION Vietnam is a communist country. However, I’m convinced there are more shopkeepers, entrepreneurs, peddlers and hustlers than in any other country I’ve ever seen; though Laos comes close. END OF DIGRESSION
I was quite thoroughly hustled by two ladies. To start, the first… I guess “lady” will do.
In this instance, I was convinced I was in a “B” movie from the 1940s or 1950s. I was in a bar (not too sleazy, although if one looks TOO closely, all Vietnamese bars are sleazy) having my usual beer. An extremely… I shall use use the word “charming”… charming young (REALLY young) lady sat down at my table, leaned forward (never mind!) took my hand and said, “You are so handsome!”
A DIGRESSION I certainly get that comment a lot. One of the curses of my life. END OF DIGRESSION
I REALLY thought I was in one of those cheap films, wherein the handsome hero is accosted (perhaps a bit strong for the verb) by a nubile “B girl” (I think that’s what they were known as) who would turn out to have a heart of gold, did the sleaze bit to pay for her mother’s critical operation, and would end up marrying said handsome hero. Honest, all those thoughts flitted through my mind prior to her next statement which was…
“Will you buy me a drink?”
I could have written this script! I almost laughed… it was soooooooo melodramatic. Now, I suppose the smart thing to do was to say “Get lost, little girl”… however I still had 2/3 of my beer to finish, it was way too hot to go outside, and anyway, “nubile” does NOT COME CLOSE to describing this particular lady. Thus my response…
“How much?” (Always the romantic approach for Garry)
“Forty thousand dong”, which, given my fantastic mathematical mind, I figured was somewhere between 1 and 5 dollars US. What’s that… $16.94 Canadian?
I concurred and she got up and gave me a wet buss on the left cheek. Miraculously a drink appeared in front of her within a few seconds. I suspect it was coke, milk and ice (I’ve seen lots of those films, so I know how this scene plays out!)
So she sipped her “drink”. I sluiced down beer, and she started to ask me fairly personal questions, although not suggestive! (Where did my movie go wrong?)
After a few moments of her atrocious English, and my incipient (incipient hell, actual) deafness, I finished my beer and made as if to leave. So she started feeding me peanuts and popcorn, bowls of which came with my beer. One by one from her fingers to my lips. This was a high-class sleazy bar.
A DIGRESSION I sure hope she’d washed sometime during the previous couple of hours. END OF DIGRESSION.
After a few minutes of goodies rammed down my gullet, I asked her how old she was. She was 27. (Maybe, but what do I know?)
The she asked if I thought she was beautiful. (At last, the movie was back on track.) I agreed she was, indeed gorgeous, and then said, “But you are just a baby.”
Well that sort of ruined that particular movie, because she actually got a little huffy. But that was OK… the peanuts were gone, I’d finished my beer, and her coke was almost empty.
Thus ended the first hustle.
BEING HUSTLED #2
When I arrived in Saigon, before I even left the airport, I booked a hotel and 3 tours. And I didn’t go for the completely broke 25-year-old European male type of tour either. I’d nearly died on one of those in Thailand… well, anyway, my knees took quite a beating.
Nope… I got a tour guide, a car and a driver. Of course, you already knew that, didn’t you?
My tour guide was a charming married lady who was taking English and tour guide studies at University. She was a gem.
She has a passion for Vietnam… history… people… culture… handicrafts. And she spoke fairly good English, and I could actually understand what she said. So we did the following
1. A visit to a series of tunnels used by the Viet Cong to ambush the Americans during the America War (NOT the Vietnamese War, you understand. I guess the truth is in the eye of the invaded.)
2. A visit to the main temple of a fairly new religion that combines, Confucianism, Islam Buddhism and Christianity. It is called Caocai (I think… must look that up!)
A DIGRESSION I find it interesting that women are still considered second-class citizens in this religion. Can’t become the high muckeymuck. Can’t lead any ceremonies. SAME SAME, but NOT different… to paraphrase a common saying on t-shirts in SE Asia. END OF DIGRESSION
3. A one-day tour of the Mekong Delta, wherein I saw a bit of the life of rural Vietnamese.
After this last tour, I took Mrs. Chi (tour guide) and her 10-year-old daughter for supper… and Mrs. C. hustled me.
She laid out a tour of central Vietnam, with her as tour guide, wherein she would hire a car and driver and take me to out-of-the-way spots with unusual temples, unusual handicrafts and so on. AND we would get to travel together on an overnight train between Saigon and Da Nang.
This sounded waaaaay better than the baby in the bar.
So I forked over a tonne of US dollars and left my next 5 days in her capable hands.
Did you know that Vietnamese sleeper trains have two rows of bunks in 3 tiers in each compartment? No seats, just six beds stacked up two walls. So I got to spend a rather sleepless night with 5 Vietnamese in a cramped, but air-conditioned, pitching, slamming, whirl-a-gig coach that reminded me of some of the rides on the (former) Klondike Days midway. The ride on the Thai overnight train was far more comfortable, and far less intimate in that I never made such close contact with the other sleepers in the Thai railway car.
Cheek by jowl is the saying I’m looking for, I believe.
Well, this was a hustle I’d recommend. I’ve already alluded to Mrs. Chi’s professionalism and passion for things Vietnamese. I even got taken to meet her 93-year-old grandmother who thought it was scandalous that I’d left my wife at home. But not scandalous that Mrs. C. and I were touring together. Of course the fact that I was in a hotel and she was bunking with her cousin likely helped.
I like Vietnam. I think everyone should visit here. And if you decide to visit and you need a good tour guide… seek me out.
I know a real gem.
Some reflections about the last 6 weeks (more or less 6 weeks).
MYCARDIAL INFARCTION (spelling?)
On my last night in Saigon, I went on the SAIGON BY NIGHT TOUR. The city is quite beautiful, great buildings, and I got a river cruise with supper.
But the highlight of this 4 hour tour was a 1/2 hour trip in a velo. Think a bicycle where the front wheel has been replaced by the seating part of a "rickshaw", plus 2 wheels and a steering bar. The driver sits behind and pedals his fare around. Well, my pedaler (peddler?) was about 75 years old, about 4'6" tall (no kidding) and MAYBE weighed one pound for each of his years on earth. I am guessing at his age, but I'm RIGHT ON with his height and weight.
He didn't even gulp when he saw me.
He pushed for some time, then hopped on his seat and started "motoring" around beautiful downtown Saigon. Up hill (no wheezing sounds) and downhill.
Of course, on downhill, he had to exert a LOT of force to slow the velo down.
Well, the ride ended quite satisfactorily. At least, the paramedics thought that with a transplant and a few months rest, he'd be back pedaling the streets of Saigon... as good as new!
CASHING IN ON TRENDS
In Laos, there are 50 bicycles for every motorized vehicle. And most of the motorized vehicles are old (really old) scooters, motorcycles and "tuk-tuks".
In VietNam there are 500 scooters for every car and/or truck. Hanoi has 3 million people and 4.5 million scooters! REALLY! And somehow, there seems to be EVERY damned scooter out buzzing around all day long. The majority of scooters are Hondas. So, invest in Honda Motor Scooter shares.
In Thailand, there are 35 motorbikes, 25 scooters, 30 cars and 10 trucks per 100 vehicles. Once again, the majority of motorbikes and scooters are Honda. BUT THE SUBSTANTIAL MAJORITY OF CARS AND TRUCKS WOULD BE TOYOTA. And I mean substantial majority.
Now that I reflect, the majority of larger vehicles in Vietnam were also TOYOTA.
Invest in TOYOTA... I imagine they'll capture the China market, too. But what do I know?
By the way, my numbers are HARDLY the end result of a well thought out research study. HARDLY!
MORE ON CARS
We certainly are short-changed on the models of vehicles that different companies are selling in Canada. Toyota has soooooooo many interesting trucks and vans that I'd never heard about. Also Hyundai, Nissan, and so on.
SIGNAGE
In spite of this area of the world (excluding Thailand) being know as French Indo China (a very very very LONG time ago), there are almost NO French signs around. (I think there are more in Thailand than in Laos and Vietnam). However, everywhere there are English tranlations (many quite hilarious, but understandable).
And EVERY vehicle I have seen has the latin alphabet name of the vehicle and model, exactly as we'd see in North America. Even Chinese vehicles (I saw a few in Laos) use English language and alphabets for names and models.
FRENCH INFLUENCE
The baguettes in Laos were every bit as good as those I remember from France. Those in VietNam were OK, but didn't match the Laotian ones.
Laos has many French style restaurants, with supposed French food. Since I choose to eat local cuisine, I didn't try any of those. I didn't see French rstaurants in VietNam, but I wasn't looking very hard.
COINAGE
All the countries I've visited use arabic numerals for their coins. Plus, seemingly everybody can instantly calculate a local currency cost in US$ and thai baht. Except, maybe, Australia.
VIETNAM AND ITS MANY WARS
The Vietnamese are extremely proud of their country and its history. For the last several hundreds of years, they have been fighting off oppressors... Burma, China, France, USA.
When, finally, the country was unified with the victory in the American War, the Vietnamese government started a campaign for more children. Many of their young men had been killed during the battles (1945 to 1975), and the government believed that an increased birth-rate was needed.
According to one of my Hanoi tour guides, the idea was waaaaaaaaaay too successful! And within a few years (I'm not sure of the timeframe here) the government was suggesting that maybe 1 or 2 children per family would be sufficient. I gather that the local families said "OK... BUT... with no electricity and no TV, what else would you expect us to do?"
Thus extensive electrification and a plentitude of cheap TVs. And a far lower birthrate.
COSTS
If it costs $100 in Australia, it will cost $50 in Thailand, $25 in Vietnam and $15 in Laos. Once again, not very scientific research, but I believe I'm close, overall. I'm estimating in US$.
COMMUNICATION
I really MUST get one of those free accounts that allow duplex voice and video across the Internet. I see so many people at local Internet shops using headphones and webcams to talk to people all over. Of course, you and the person on the other end have to agree at the exact time you'll be communication, but that's reasonably trivial. And the cost is sure great.
A DIGRESSION:
2013: i have several different phone APPS that allow voice/vidoe contact, free, around the world. How the world changes.
END OF DIGRESSION
In Laos, internet cost $1 an hour. $1.50 per hour in Vietnam. $1 per hour in Thailand. FREE in Australia, but without the webcam and headphones available (this was at the Sydney airport).
HOTEL internets were triple these prices, easy... anywhere. But the local internet shops were good bargains, and had pretty fast hookups.
PLUS very cheap international phone calls.
In one hotel I paid $3 US per minute for a call. In an internet shop in Laos, I paid $2 US for a 15 minute call. Go figure.
MYCARDIAL INFARCTION (spelling?)
On my last night in Saigon, I went on the SAIGON BY NIGHT TOUR. The city is quite beautiful, great buildings, and I got a river cruise with supper.
But the highlight of this 4 hour tour was a 1/2 hour trip in a velo. Think a bicycle where the front wheel has been replaced by the seating part of a "rickshaw", plus 2 wheels and a steering bar. The driver sits behind and pedals his fare around. Well, my pedaler (peddler?) was about 75 years old, about 4'6" tall (no kidding) and MAYBE weighed one pound for each of his years on earth. I am guessing at his age, but I'm RIGHT ON with his height and weight.
He didn't even gulp when he saw me.
He pushed for some time, then hopped on his seat and started "motoring" around beautiful downtown Saigon. Up hill (no wheezing sounds) and downhill.
Of course, on downhill, he had to exert a LOT of force to slow the velo down.
Well, the ride ended quite satisfactorily. At least, the paramedics thought that with a transplant and a few months rest, he'd be back pedaling the streets of Saigon... as good as new!
CASHING IN ON TRENDS
In Laos, there are 50 bicycles for every motorized vehicle. And most of the motorized vehicles are old (really old) scooters, motorcycles and "tuk-tuks".
In VietNam there are 500 scooters for every car and/or truck. Hanoi has 3 million people and 4.5 million scooters! REALLY! And somehow, there seems to be EVERY damned scooter out buzzing around all day long. The majority of scooters are Hondas. So, invest in Honda Motor Scooter shares.
In Thailand, there are 35 motorbikes, 25 scooters, 30 cars and 10 trucks per 100 vehicles. Once again, the majority of motorbikes and scooters are Honda. BUT THE SUBSTANTIAL MAJORITY OF CARS AND TRUCKS WOULD BE TOYOTA. And I mean substantial majority.
Now that I reflect, the majority of larger vehicles in Vietnam were also TOYOTA.
Invest in TOYOTA... I imagine they'll capture the China market, too. But what do I know?
By the way, my numbers are HARDLY the end result of a well thought out research study. HARDLY!
MORE ON CARS
We certainly are short-changed on the models of vehicles that different companies are selling in Canada. Toyota has soooooooo many interesting trucks and vans that I'd never heard about. Also Hyundai, Nissan, and so on.
SIGNAGE
In spite of this area of the world (excluding Thailand) being know as French Indo China (a very very very LONG time ago), there are almost NO French signs around. (I think there are more in Thailand than in Laos and Vietnam). However, everywhere there are English tranlations (many quite hilarious, but understandable).
And EVERY vehicle I have seen has the latin alphabet name of the vehicle and model, exactly as we'd see in North America. Even Chinese vehicles (I saw a few in Laos) use English language and alphabets for names and models.
FRENCH INFLUENCE
The baguettes in Laos were every bit as good as those I remember from France. Those in VietNam were OK, but didn't match the Laotian ones.
Laos has many French style restaurants, with supposed French food. Since I choose to eat local cuisine, I didn't try any of those. I didn't see French rstaurants in VietNam, but I wasn't looking very hard.
COINAGE
All the countries I've visited use arabic numerals for their coins. Plus, seemingly everybody can instantly calculate a local currency cost in US$ and thai baht. Except, maybe, Australia.
VIETNAM AND ITS MANY WARS
The Vietnamese are extremely proud of their country and its history. For the last several hundreds of years, they have been fighting off oppressors... Burma, China, France, USA.
When, finally, the country was unified with the victory in the American War, the Vietnamese government started a campaign for more children. Many of their young men had been killed during the battles (1945 to 1975), and the government believed that an increased birth-rate was needed.
According to one of my Hanoi tour guides, the idea was waaaaaaaaaay too successful! And within a few years (I'm not sure of the timeframe here) the government was suggesting that maybe 1 or 2 children per family would be sufficient. I gather that the local families said "OK... BUT... with no electricity and no TV, what else would you expect us to do?"
Thus extensive electrification and a plentitude of cheap TVs. And a far lower birthrate.
COSTS
If it costs $100 in Australia, it will cost $50 in Thailand, $25 in Vietnam and $15 in Laos. Once again, not very scientific research, but I believe I'm close, overall. I'm estimating in US$.
COMMUNICATION
I really MUST get one of those free accounts that allow duplex voice and video across the Internet. I see so many people at local Internet shops using headphones and webcams to talk to people all over. Of course, you and the person on the other end have to agree at the exact time you'll be communication, but that's reasonably trivial. And the cost is sure great.
A DIGRESSION:
2013: i have several different phone APPS that allow voice/vidoe contact, free, around the world. How the world changes.
END OF DIGRESSION
In Laos, internet cost $1 an hour. $1.50 per hour in Vietnam. $1 per hour in Thailand. FREE in Australia, but without the webcam and headphones available (this was at the Sydney airport).
HOTEL internets were triple these prices, easy... anywhere. But the local internet shops were good bargains, and had pretty fast hookups.
PLUS very cheap international phone calls.
In one hotel I paid $3 US per minute for a call. In an internet shop in Laos, I paid $2 US for a 15 minute call. Go figure.
Here is a quick update on my trip, in Thailand, with Pat.
We have taken many tours (it gets exhausting after a while) and found them worthwhile, eye-opening and often disturbing.
The Thai aboriginals" (called Hill Tribe People) are generally very badly off. Some of them (Long-Necked Karen tribe for instance) was moved, illegally, from their tribal home to a God-forsaken hillside composed of grey dust. Since they are illegally squatting, they get NO government help, so their kids don't get medical care, nor education. They try to make a "living" by making and selling examples of their traditional dress and handicrafts. However, from my perspective, there is really nothing I'd want to purchase... someone needs to teach them some marketing ideas so that tourists could be inveigled to buy. OK OK Given the level of my (and Pat's) guilt, we did buy. But a lot of it is unsaleable.
Very sad.
On the positive side... this is a good trip: hot, sunny, great tour guides and spectacular scenery in the mountains of Northern Thailand. AND no 2 day "treks" that just kill my knees. Although we did climb 366 steps to see a temple yesterday.
I find Buddhism fascinating... if the Thai people are good examples, Buddhists are kind, loving, considerate and respectful. I need to find out about Buddha's teachings to see what inspires them to such "humanness"... OK positive humanness.
And I'd be happy to be corrected on the spelling of HUMMANNEESS.
Sorry this is a tad terse, but I'm processing what I've seen, and I'll elaborate at a later date.
We have taken many tours (it gets exhausting after a while) and found them worthwhile, eye-opening and often disturbing.
The Thai aboriginals" (called Hill Tribe People) are generally very badly off. Some of them (Long-Necked Karen tribe for instance) was moved, illegally, from their tribal home to a God-forsaken hillside composed of grey dust. Since they are illegally squatting, they get NO government help, so their kids don't get medical care, nor education. They try to make a "living" by making and selling examples of their traditional dress and handicrafts. However, from my perspective, there is really nothing I'd want to purchase... someone needs to teach them some marketing ideas so that tourists could be inveigled to buy. OK OK Given the level of my (and Pat's) guilt, we did buy. But a lot of it is unsaleable.
Very sad.
On the positive side... this is a good trip: hot, sunny, great tour guides and spectacular scenery in the mountains of Northern Thailand. AND no 2 day "treks" that just kill my knees. Although we did climb 366 steps to see a temple yesterday.
I find Buddhism fascinating... if the Thai people are good examples, Buddhists are kind, loving, considerate and respectful. I need to find out about Buddha's teachings to see what inspires them to such "humanness"... OK positive humanness.
And I'd be happy to be corrected on the spelling of HUMMANNEESS.
Sorry this is a tad terse, but I'm processing what I've seen, and I'll elaborate at a later date.