I sat next to a friendly, scruffy Spanish man on my ride from Hanoi to Luang Prabang. After introducing himself he said, "I think an apology is in order. My last bath was this morning when I was swimming in Ha Long Bay but my last proper shower was a week prior." It was going to new long 28 hours. We talked for a good 7 hours and when my exhaustion kicked in my only response to combat the endless conversation was to play dead. I fell asleep mid-sentence and woke up to a healthy pool of my own drool.
I slept, drooled, ate a cookie, waited for the bus to pull over for a pee break (i have s freakishly small bladder) and repeated for the entirety of the ride...I've had worst 28 hours.
Finally I arrived in Laos (Luang Prabang), the country that several travelers I've come across have declared is the gem of SE Asia.
Showing posts with label Vietnam. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Vietnam. Show all posts
Sunday, November 11, 2012
Vietnam 3: Hanoi; Camera Repair, Motorbikes and Street Food
My only mission in Hanoi: get my camera fixed-check
This was my second visit to Hanoi an I was pleasantly surprised. Once I got past it being s big city and everything that comes with that, it wasn't half bad.
B Burt and I weaved in and out of the hectic motorbike traffic all day as we explored the city. Vietnamese lined the streets in large groups drinking ice tea during he day and eating noodles at night. We were constantly asked to buy stale doughnuts, fake lonely planets and useless junk. B Burt's 5 year old shoes had seen better days so instead of parting ways he got them stitched up by a man on the street.
At night we met up with Amsterdam Eat More and a few other we had collected from our hostels. We had dinner and some beers on the street and went to something resembling a club. One thing I appreciate about Hanoi is the community. Instead of eating in a restaurant where your view is limited to the backs of the people in the neighboring table, sitting on kid sized plastic stools, rubbing shoulders with strangers, and facing the intersection brings everyone together in a way. This is, of course, illegal and we literally had a seats taken from under us when the police came, but it's all in good fun.
My last day in Hanoi I drank so smoothies and people watched by the lake (I was in my first picture with random strangers in Vietnam) then caught my sleeper bus to Laos.
This was my second visit to Hanoi an I was pleasantly surprised. Once I got past it being s big city and everything that comes with that, it wasn't half bad.
B Burt and I weaved in and out of the hectic motorbike traffic all day as we explored the city. Vietnamese lined the streets in large groups drinking ice tea during he day and eating noodles at night. We were constantly asked to buy stale doughnuts, fake lonely planets and useless junk. B Burt's 5 year old shoes had seen better days so instead of parting ways he got them stitched up by a man on the street.
At night we met up with Amsterdam Eat More and a few other we had collected from our hostels. We had dinner and some beers on the street and went to something resembling a club. One thing I appreciate about Hanoi is the community. Instead of eating in a restaurant where your view is limited to the backs of the people in the neighboring table, sitting on kid sized plastic stools, rubbing shoulders with strangers, and facing the intersection brings everyone together in a way. This is, of course, illegal and we literally had a seats taken from under us when the police came, but it's all in good fun.
My last day in Hanoi I drank so smoothies and people watched by the lake (I was in my first picture with random strangers in Vietnam) then caught my sleeper bus to Laos.
Vietnam 2: Sapa; Village-life
Despite the rainy weather forecast, Barcelona Burt and I decided to go on a 3 day trek and home-stay in the local villages. I don't know the difference between hiking and trekking but trekking sounds more intense so I will continue to side with SE Asia on this one and tell people I went trekking (I will even go so far to say I'm a Star Treki Trekker).
Barcelona Burt is the perfect travel companion. He says yes to everything I suggest before I finish my sentence and he is one of those rare type of people who are funny without trying. The combination of his dry sense of humor, accent, and facial expressions could put even Ben Stein into a fit of laughter. He breaks just about everything in his path, thinks nothing is worse than China and could probably live on mangos and meat.
My group was composed of 2 girls from Holland, Barcelona Burt, our guide (a 17 year old girl from the Hmong minority) and I. The first day we trekked from Sapa to the villages of Cat Cat And Lao Chai and spent the night in Ta Van.
Along the way our tour guide stopped at her aunt and uncle's house to show us her wedding video. It was probably the most awkward thing I have ever seen. The mustard yellow hint and cheesy footage made it look like a low budget film from the 60's. Here is her story from what I can gather:
1) a guy came to her village
2) she fell in love with said guy in her village and followed him to China where they would get married
3) loverboy sold her to a friend of a friend of a friend
4) at first she wasn't too keen on him but he had a sweet TV and room so she went along with the marriage (that his family paid for)
5) she stayed with him in Beijing for 7 months (he didn't have a job when she was there) and now apparently they are in love
6) she had to come back to Vietnam because of visa issues so now they are waiting until they have enough money so she can go back and live in China with him.
7) he is now working but she has no idea what he does, "he has a job, I don't know what it is. Maybe at a hotel or something. It's a normal job, you know?"
Anywho, we watched him pick her up, them awkwardly kiss, them walk around a playground (I think the intention was to be romantic but it didn't come through too well) and his family eat (while she stayed upstairs starving because she didn't know his family) while she embarrassingly giggled and commented. Very little smiling. It would best be described as the fist middle school dance where they are touching each other at arms length, sporadic attempts at eye contact, and one-stepping from left to right while all the parents and teachers watch and take pictures of them.
The trek was foggy are slightly erie in a beautiful kind of way. We stopped at a school and watched the kids play duck duck goose, I used all my self control to not join. Women from the village would walk with us, engaging in basic conversation and prevent us from eating it in the mud by holding our hands. B Burt, of course, was a lost cause, slipping every 5 minutes. When we got to a stopping point, the villagers wanted us to buy something from them. They saved me from taking several mud baths so they had definitely earned my business.
That night we added a Swiss guy and Polish gal to our group, ate dinner prepared at the home we were staying at and headed to a bar in the village for some mulled wine and card games (with some Italians and Canadians as well). The home was far from what we pictured as a homestay. It had more than 10 beds in the loft and was obviously made for tourists. It was nice, regardless.
The next day the clouds finally lifted and we visited Giang Ta Chai and Su Pan villages and spent the night in Ban Ho.
After lunch, our guide had to go home on the count of girl cramps (although I'm pretty sure she didn't know what those were, she just knew she hurt every month and guys didn't) and the Dutch girls headed back to Sapa. Barcelona Burt and I continued on to Ban Ho and stayed with a 10-pack of Europeans, expanded our waistline at dinner, and drank some "happy water" with the girls. We hit it off with a Dutch guy I will call "Amsterdam Eat More" (he was the main cause of us eating just short of the point of explosion). He is one of those people who you feel like you've know for years after only a few moments. He chuckles at just about everything (but mostly himself), must have about 3 stomachs (but doesn't show it), and keeps a journal.
Oh, Obama won. I heard the news of my country's president from a German girl while in a remote village then toasted with a bunch of Europeans and Vietnamese girls...cheers to globalization!
The last day of the tour B Burt, Amsterdam Eat More, our guides and I trsined for the circus by walking on the tightrope-esque edges of the rice fields and eventually to a waterfall. B Burt, our guide and I then marched straight up the mountain and headed back to Sapa to take much needed showers.
One puking Canadian, 1-2 pee breaks and 12 hours later B Burt and I arrived in Hanoi via sleeper bus.
Barcelona Burt is the perfect travel companion. He says yes to everything I suggest before I finish my sentence and he is one of those rare type of people who are funny without trying. The combination of his dry sense of humor, accent, and facial expressions could put even Ben Stein into a fit of laughter. He breaks just about everything in his path, thinks nothing is worse than China and could probably live on mangos and meat.
My group was composed of 2 girls from Holland, Barcelona Burt, our guide (a 17 year old girl from the Hmong minority) and I. The first day we trekked from Sapa to the villages of Cat Cat And Lao Chai and spent the night in Ta Van.
Along the way our tour guide stopped at her aunt and uncle's house to show us her wedding video. It was probably the most awkward thing I have ever seen. The mustard yellow hint and cheesy footage made it look like a low budget film from the 60's. Here is her story from what I can gather:
1) a guy came to her village
2) she fell in love with said guy in her village and followed him to China where they would get married
3) loverboy sold her to a friend of a friend of a friend
4) at first she wasn't too keen on him but he had a sweet TV and room so she went along with the marriage (that his family paid for)
5) she stayed with him in Beijing for 7 months (he didn't have a job when she was there) and now apparently they are in love
6) she had to come back to Vietnam because of visa issues so now they are waiting until they have enough money so she can go back and live in China with him.
7) he is now working but she has no idea what he does, "he has a job, I don't know what it is. Maybe at a hotel or something. It's a normal job, you know?"
Anywho, we watched him pick her up, them awkwardly kiss, them walk around a playground (I think the intention was to be romantic but it didn't come through too well) and his family eat (while she stayed upstairs starving because she didn't know his family) while she embarrassingly giggled and commented. Very little smiling. It would best be described as the fist middle school dance where they are touching each other at arms length, sporadic attempts at eye contact, and one-stepping from left to right while all the parents and teachers watch and take pictures of them.
The trek was foggy are slightly erie in a beautiful kind of way. We stopped at a school and watched the kids play duck duck goose, I used all my self control to not join. Women from the village would walk with us, engaging in basic conversation and prevent us from eating it in the mud by holding our hands. B Burt, of course, was a lost cause, slipping every 5 minutes. When we got to a stopping point, the villagers wanted us to buy something from them. They saved me from taking several mud baths so they had definitely earned my business.
That night we added a Swiss guy and Polish gal to our group, ate dinner prepared at the home we were staying at and headed to a bar in the village for some mulled wine and card games (with some Italians and Canadians as well). The home was far from what we pictured as a homestay. It had more than 10 beds in the loft and was obviously made for tourists. It was nice, regardless.
The next day the clouds finally lifted and we visited Giang Ta Chai and Su Pan villages and spent the night in Ban Ho.
After lunch, our guide had to go home on the count of girl cramps (although I'm pretty sure she didn't know what those were, she just knew she hurt every month and guys didn't) and the Dutch girls headed back to Sapa. Barcelona Burt and I continued on to Ban Ho and stayed with a 10-pack of Europeans, expanded our waistline at dinner, and drank some "happy water" with the girls. We hit it off with a Dutch guy I will call "Amsterdam Eat More" (he was the main cause of us eating just short of the point of explosion). He is one of those people who you feel like you've know for years after only a few moments. He chuckles at just about everything (but mostly himself), must have about 3 stomachs (but doesn't show it), and keeps a journal.
Oh, Obama won. I heard the news of my country's president from a German girl while in a remote village then toasted with a bunch of Europeans and Vietnamese girls...cheers to globalization!
The last day of the tour B Burt, Amsterdam Eat More, our guides and I trsined for the circus by walking on the tightrope-esque edges of the rice fields and eventually to a waterfall. B Burt, our guide and I then marched straight up the mountain and headed back to Sapa to take much needed showers.
One puking Canadian, 1-2 pee breaks and 12 hours later B Burt and I arrived in Hanoi via sleeper bus.
Vietnam 1: Sapa; No More 3X5s
I concluded my last entry following a bearded man into a restaurant in Sapa, Vietnam and that is where I will pick up.
I meandered to the courtyard in the middle of the city to see what all the chatter was about. There were hundreds of people from the village with handmade items spread out for all to see (and by see I mean buy). I later found out that that is where the traditional weekly "love market" takes place. If I had known that, I would have paid better attention and gotten some pointers.
My first visit to Sapa was last December, when Hamdiya (my friend who lived in Japan with me) and I made it our Christmas Day stop on out 2 week trip to SE Asia. The moment my eyes laid themselves on the endless rice terraces, they assured me it would not me the last. They were right. 8 months later and I was back for a second helping.
When I took out my camera (Nikon 5100) out to take a picture, its only reply was an error. SAY WHAT? My luxury item that less than point (insert several zeros) one% of the population is lucky enough to own wanted to throw in the towel? This was not acceptable.
Once I completed my spoiled freak out session God grabbed my shoulders, shook me and said, "wake up." He didn't let me go on this trip to live behind a digital camera screen, He wanted/wants me to see life in realtime. I realized that I had let my camera distract me from what was actually going on around me. Instead of appreciating the beauty for what it is, my thoughts were clouded with how I could take the best picture. Digital cameras are one of the worst things that has ever happened to traveling. For the record, I don't think there's anything wrong with capturing the moment but I had been letting it consume me more than I realized. I used my waterproof point-and-shoot Olympus camera until my Nikon was back in action.
The next day I decided to give myself a limit of only 5 pictures and was shocked with the result. I was able to watch people's body language, the way they walked, how the shadows from the clouds moved across the hills; I could hear the music of the horns, wildlife and people; smell the food lofting from the stalls. It was a good wake up call for not only my senses but me. There is John Mayer song called 3X5 seems fitting:
"don't have a camera by my side this time
hope that I would see the world through both my eyes"
For brunch I had no problem devouring a big bowl of pho and fruit smoothie at a restaurant called Baguette and Chocolat. This restaurant helps disadvantaged youth by providing free training and vocational skills for ethnic student minorities.
After my belly had expanded I walked towards the villages. This was harder than I had expected. The streets in Sapa were lined with villagers trying to sell tourists things that, although beautiful, I just don't want, and men trying to give people motorbike rides. No matter how far from the city I walked, I could never escape the" hello. Where you from? What's your name? Oh very beautiful. How old are you? (Slight pause where they don't really listen to your answer)" always followed by "wow, so young." A woman wanted to show me her village (for money, of course) and no matter what I said, wouldn't believe that I just wanted to walk. The persistent woman followed me for 10 minutes and then I decided to pull out my tricks to make her stop waisting her time. Out came my IPod. She still followed me. I went to the other side of the street. She followed suit. After about ten more minutes I had an epiphany: zig zags. I zig zagged back and forth as fast as I could, turned around and had a staring contest. She blinked, turned around and headed back into town. I won.
My walk was beautiful. Hills covered with green terraces with speckles of little houses nestled in the land. Peaceful and quaint. Sapa is a charming town where evidence of French colonization and local minority groups remains.
I brought my Nikon to the only camera repair shop in town. They assured me they were experts, removed my memory card and battery, put them back in the body and told me they didn't know what else to do. Looks like I'll be making a trip to Hanoi.
I went back to my hostel to find my Spanish friend that I had met in Kunming, China (I'll call him Barcelona Burt). My companion had arrived.
I meandered to the courtyard in the middle of the city to see what all the chatter was about. There were hundreds of people from the village with handmade items spread out for all to see (and by see I mean buy). I later found out that that is where the traditional weekly "love market" takes place. If I had known that, I would have paid better attention and gotten some pointers.
My first visit to Sapa was last December, when Hamdiya (my friend who lived in Japan with me) and I made it our Christmas Day stop on out 2 week trip to SE Asia. The moment my eyes laid themselves on the endless rice terraces, they assured me it would not me the last. They were right. 8 months later and I was back for a second helping.
When I took out my camera (Nikon 5100) out to take a picture, its only reply was an error. SAY WHAT? My luxury item that less than point (insert several zeros) one% of the population is lucky enough to own wanted to throw in the towel? This was not acceptable.
Once I completed my spoiled freak out session God grabbed my shoulders, shook me and said, "wake up." He didn't let me go on this trip to live behind a digital camera screen, He wanted/wants me to see life in realtime. I realized that I had let my camera distract me from what was actually going on around me. Instead of appreciating the beauty for what it is, my thoughts were clouded with how I could take the best picture. Digital cameras are one of the worst things that has ever happened to traveling. For the record, I don't think there's anything wrong with capturing the moment but I had been letting it consume me more than I realized. I used my waterproof point-and-shoot Olympus camera until my Nikon was back in action.
The next day I decided to give myself a limit of only 5 pictures and was shocked with the result. I was able to watch people's body language, the way they walked, how the shadows from the clouds moved across the hills; I could hear the music of the horns, wildlife and people; smell the food lofting from the stalls. It was a good wake up call for not only my senses but me. There is John Mayer song called 3X5 seems fitting:
"don't have a camera by my side this time
hope that I would see the world through both my eyes"
For brunch I had no problem devouring a big bowl of pho and fruit smoothie at a restaurant called Baguette and Chocolat. This restaurant helps disadvantaged youth by providing free training and vocational skills for ethnic student minorities.
After my belly had expanded I walked towards the villages. This was harder than I had expected. The streets in Sapa were lined with villagers trying to sell tourists things that, although beautiful, I just don't want, and men trying to give people motorbike rides. No matter how far from the city I walked, I could never escape the" hello. Where you from? What's your name? Oh very beautiful. How old are you? (Slight pause where they don't really listen to your answer)" always followed by "wow, so young." A woman wanted to show me her village (for money, of course) and no matter what I said, wouldn't believe that I just wanted to walk. The persistent woman followed me for 10 minutes and then I decided to pull out my tricks to make her stop waisting her time. Out came my IPod. She still followed me. I went to the other side of the street. She followed suit. After about ten more minutes I had an epiphany: zig zags. I zig zagged back and forth as fast as I could, turned around and had a staring contest. She blinked, turned around and headed back into town. I won.
My walk was beautiful. Hills covered with green terraces with speckles of little houses nestled in the land. Peaceful and quaint. Sapa is a charming town where evidence of French colonization and local minority groups remains.
I brought my Nikon to the only camera repair shop in town. They assured me they were experts, removed my memory card and battery, put them back in the body and told me they didn't know what else to do. Looks like I'll be making a trip to Hanoi.
I went back to my hostel to find my Spanish friend that I had met in Kunming, China (I'll call him Barcelona Burt). My companion had arrived.
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