Escape to Cambodia

With the approach of Tet, we had made the decision to head out of Vietnam and visit the neighbouring country of Cambodia. We set off early to catch the bus that would take us out of Saigon, sharing the road with other travelers escaping the city. After about four hours we were at the border and it was "everyone off the bus", said in a language we didn't understand, so we just followed. The bus was unpacked and we had to present to the Vietnamese immigration officials. That done, it was back on the bus for a few hundred yards, then off the bus again to present to Cambodian immigration. Then back on the bus again, that was our exercise for the day. In all I think it was about a six hour bus ride that took us through rural Cambodia, a pretty, green countryside with villages of stilted houses dotting the roadside, heading toward Phnom Penh.
Along the way we saw some sights, a twelve seater van crammed with 23 people (my count as we passed slowly) 3 motor bikes, a bicycle, the baggage and a few hens tied on. At the ferry crossing we followed a ute piled incredibly high with chooks, all alive but tied, hanging, those over the exhaust pipe hopefully provided a quick death. In a field were two little boys having a great time larking around on the backs of water buffalo. The threat of land mines is still very real and the cities had more than their fair share of the victims.
Arrival in Phnom Penh opened another world. Once settled in our hotel, we took off to explore a city that we both found dirty and depressing. There is an obvious sex trade providing income for young males, as some rather sleazy looking westerners walk the streets with young boys. The sight of children begging for food or money while we sat at our restaurant table brought tears. I had just spent a few weeks in Australia with my grandchildren who are well protected and want for nothing and the contrast to these vulnerable young kids, dirty, hungry and desperate was just heart breaking. We bought bananas to offer as we walked the streets and were approached by hungry children, but they ran out before the hands stopped reaching up.
Our day tour the following day also brought tears. The Killing Fields and Tuol Sleng Prison brought to life the agony and suffering of the Cambodians at the hand of Pol Pot's regime. The glass panels of the memorial stupa show the skulls of some of the 17,000 people who met their fate here and are buried in the mass graves. The quiet peaceful surroundings disguise the horror. S-21 had been the prison holding these souls as they were interrogated and tortured. Originally a high school it was converted with barbed wire and bars to a hell hole. Scribbled on wall a message from someone else who was shocked by the place, "When this was a prison, nobody learned. When this was a school, nobody died".
We were glad to leave Phnom Penh behind and arrived in Siem Reap to be enthralled. Obviously thriving with the tourist dollar, this town catered well. It was cleaner, friendlier and a beautiful gateway to Angkor and the ancient temples. We spent a day with an official and very informative guide who told us all the secrets of the temples. French explorers had re-discovered these temples in the 19th century but during various conflicts they had been deserted. Now they are awake and the life blood to Siem Reap with 2 million foreign visitors tramping the dusty trails last year.
Entry to the temples is well organized. You must purchase a ticket which is printed with your photo and must be presented on request. This ancient capital of Cambodia is well protected and cared for. One million people used to live in this vast area as one king after another tried to outdo his predecessor building something bigger and better. Originally, as wars were had over land ownership, Cambodia included Southern Vietnam and part of Burma.
Archaeologists are still working on different sites throughout the area but there was little that was off limits. Blocks of sandstone fit together tightly creating enormous towers and steep steps encourage you to go higher to see what is at the top. At the Temple of Bayon, faces look down on you, enigmatic smiles keeping a secret of some kind. Carved into some of the sandstone blocks are stories in pictures, telling of legends, myths and wars. The stone is worn, more in some places than other, covered with stains from years of weather and exposure. At Ta Prohm nature has reclaimed the stone, large trees embracing the walls of this jungle temple. Hollywood has visited this spot with it featuring in the movie Tomb Raider. Among the other visitor the day we were there, were saffron robed Buddhist monks who seemed to blend so well with this peaceful atmosphere. These young men were probably trying to sneak moments of quiet contemplation but it was as though they were part of a theme park, walking among the ancient twisting tree roots.
Refreshed with food and drink at lunch, the afternoon was filled with a wander around Angkor Wat, the largest of the temples. Reflected in the surrounding moat, it was a sight I've seen before in the travel pages but the real thing is nothing but breathtaking. The sight was enough to spur us on and into the hot sun to wander the ancient paving. I can't describe how exciting it was. But by this stage Chum, our guide, was getting weary. He had seen and said it millions of times before, so once he had done the introductory spiel, we left him sitting in the shade as we explored.
These ancient cities are not small and it is amazing that they could be built without modern technology. The stone was sourced 50 miles away and fits together with snug precision to built the walls and towers. It is purely amazing.
We have to go back, one day is not long enough to see all that this place has to offer. We only walked the major temples but there are more further afield that have secrets to share.

Flowers Everywhere

Chuc Mung Nam Moi

I have returned from my Aussie holiday to a city bursting with colour. Chuc Mung Nam Moi translated means "Happy New Year" and the time of Tet is the Vietnamese celebration seeing the new year in. James and I will be off in Cambodia for the day (the 7th) but we have taken in some of the sights. I am regretting our decision to holiday out of the country because there is a real buzz.
As with the Western New Year there is a fantastic display of lights at night, wrapped around trees and strung across roads. But the flower displays have won my heart. In one of the big parks in the city there is a flower market, where the tradition of presenting family and friends with gifts of plants meets commerce. Potted plants flowering in red or yellow were in all sizes and varieties. It is just a mass of colour and excitement.
Another large park has a flower display that is well worth the 15,000 dong (about $1) entry fee. Flower beds of potted plans have taken weeks to prepare but the result is just magnificent. The Vietnamese are very skilled artists and able to create some beautiful pieces, even though they are make from butterfly wings. Huge dragons crafted solely from fruit, vegetables and spices are just incredible.
City streets have been closed, low brick walls have been built to boarder garden beds of potted plants that have taken over the roadway. Bamboo frameworks support dozens of hanging baskets. The number of man hours to create this are well worth the affect. There seems to be no concern about the disruption to traffic, everyone still has a smile on their face. Obviously there is no constrictions of water usage, everything is watered regularly to keep it blooming.
The city shops have decorations hanging and displays in front of which it seems to be compulsory to have a photo taken. Trying to get a shot without a local child smiling for dad as he clicks the camera on his mobile phone is a challenge.
Motor bikes are going down the roads piled high with potted trees, the blossoms blowing about. Everyone seems to have some type of baggage on board and through the bus windows you can see travelers with baskets of goodies on their laps as they make their way to their home town. There is an exodus of city dwellers returning to spend this important time of year with family.
This is also a time for spring cleaning, everybody seems to be scrubbing, sweeping or painting, all part of the traditions that surround this time. Our landlord visited the other day with a gift of grapefruit decorated with new year wishes. We are not allowed to eat them till after Tet. It is custom to invite family and friends to eat with you and share the season. It seems a season of true goodwill.
We have decided that we will remain in the city for Tet next year, experience fully the excitement and fun that is bubbling about. Not sure what awaits us in Cambodia during this season but guess that will be the topic for my next blog.
So .... Chuc Mung Nam Moi to you all. Till next time.....

We Wish You A Merry Christmas

We have survived our first Christmas here, made more tolerable with technology playing a big part in us also enjoying a touch of Christmas from home.
When we first arrived here we were led to believe that Christmas was a non-event. Apart from the fact that it was a normal working day, the Vietnamese still celebrate the season. On visits to the centre of town it was evident that there is a big business here in styrene foam. Whole buildings were transformed to a winter wonderland with a wrapping of foam, window sills dripping and snowmen on the footpath. Most of the displays were devoid of any hint of Christianity, lots of Christmas trees, Santas and elves but no nativities. Shop windows were also lit up but there wasn't the big commercial push to buy.
At night the electricity meter spins around with the roads becoming a tunnel of fairy lights, strung across from tree to tree and becoming an attraction for millions of people cruising on their bikes. It was literally curb to curb bikes and on Christmas eve apparently one of the main streets was closed to all but pedestrians. The atmosphere was fantastic with the place just pulsing with humanity, everyone happy and laughing and flowing along together. Children were balanced between parents on bikes as the family took in the sights.
Christmas Day was much more relaxing than at home, nothing more than sitting up in the roof garden reading a book through the day. In the evening we joined 230 other people for dinner at the Sheraton. Our group of friends settled in to feast on a very impressive buffet with everything from sushi to the traditional roast. Carolers provided entertainment and "We Wish You A Merry Christmas" in Vietnamese still has the same feeling. A huge tree in the hotel foyer sat next to a real gingerbread house. I can't describe it as anything but perfect, obviously a lot of thought and effort put into make the night very memorable. We finished up in the nightclub and by the time our taxi headed toward home, the roads were deserted and just about everyone else were tucked up in bed.
The day was really great fun, something very different, though not quite the same without family and friends to share it with. We missed the excitement of unwrapping presents under the tree, the delight of watching the kids play with toys and the big build up for that one day. But our new friends helped to make it a memorable day and I don't regret being here to do something so different from home.

More photos

Photos from Sapa

It's Cold In Them There Hills

I never thought I'd say it here, but I've just spent a few days freezing to the bone. I took off to Sapa, in the northern highlands. James had to work, so I was on my own.
My flight to Hanoi was straight after work on Sunday and I arrived up there just as it was getting dark. Took a taxi into the Old Quarter, a big touristy area. Wandered around the shops until it started to rain, as it always is at that time of night in Hanoi. So, I decided to head to the train station.
My ticket was for a "soft sleeper" on the overnight train. This was the only part of my little holiday I wasn't looking forward to. Because I was traveling alone, I was more than anxious about who I would be sharing the four berth cabin with. All sorts of things were going through my mind. I spent about an hour in the "Passenger Waiting Hall" and between reading my book, watching some drunk guy trying to get on the train before everyone else, only to be unceremoniously thrown out. The other entertainment was two little boys who spent that whole time sliding a shoe between each other on the floor, something so simple but had them engrossed for ages. Onto the train and wow, was I surprised. James and I had traveled by train here in Vietnam before and this train was a real step up. And, even better, I had the cabin all to myself. So I locked the door and was rocked off to sleep as we made our way toward Lao Cai, a little town which is on the Chinese boarder and a stepping stone to Sapa. Woken at 5am with a light knock on the door and outside it was a misty, cold morning.
A minibus took me and a dozen others on the winding road to Sapa. It was like the Great Ocean Road (without the sea) mixed with Devil's Elbow. A few of the passengers were using the small plastic bags supplied and disposing of them out the window. Pity the poor bugger on a motorbike traveling behind us.
Sapa was settled by the French in the early 1900's and sits on the top of a hill with some spectacular scenery. I was there in the off season, apparently it is the destination of thousands through the summer, the cooler climate attracting the Vietnamese. And cold it was. I don't have any winter clothes here and found the purchase of a jumper in Hanoi brilliant planning.
I checked into a hotel and wandered out to explore. Well, I tried to get out. At the bottom of the steps I was surrounded by a group of very persistent women who were well versed in the spirit of free trade. Although most of these local people have had little formal education and are illiterate, their command of English is quite good. Buy from me, why you buy from her and not me, you want to buy blanket, maybe you buy from me later, buy from me for baby...are all spoken fluently with crisp pronunciation and emotion. 10 out of 10.
There are two main ethnic groups, the Black H'mong and the Red Dzao. They live in little primitive villages in the surrounding mountains and the tourists provide most of their income. The women of the Red Dzao shave their eyebrows and the front of their hairline and wear what can only be called a big red billowing headdress decorated with beads and tassels. They wear lots of silver decorating their clothes and are a fantastic sight around the town. The Black H'mong wear....guess...black. They dye their clothes from the indigo plant which grows in the mountains. The length of time that they boil the hemp fabric determines if the clothes are a dark blue or black. The women wear a tunic and wrap lengths of black fabric around their legs for warmth. Again there is silver jewelery and either baskets full of wares or babies tied to their backs.
On my first day I took a Honda taxi to check out the sights. Because of the increase of tourism in the area, some of the roads have been upgraded, but I don't think my driver knew where they were. Before we took off, we stopped at this house so he could get me a helmet (always need one of those to feel safe). This was secured under my chin with a strip of fabric, well the thought was there.
This ride was well worth it. Zac, obviously his acquired English name, took me up through the mountains and some of the most spectacular scenery of valleys and terraced hillsides. My only regret was that the weather wasn't better, but the rolling cloud and thin mist did add to the experience. I was tempted with the offer of, for a few more dollars, a visit to one of the villages. What the heck, off we went. He took me to this incredibly primitive village which obviously wasn't frequented by many tourists. Zac told me to go into one of the houses, rather intrusive I thought, and so did the lady who lived there. I didn't feel comfortable with going in but could see the dark interior was little more than a rammed dirt floor, a fire in the middle of the room and no obvious comforts. This experience of wandering around the tiny village was the highlight of my little holiday.
The next day, rather than doing one of the many treks on offer from the local tour companies, my luck would be to fall and break an ankle, I hired a jeep and English speaking guide to go to another 2 villages. Well, two out of three's not bad. Yes, it was a jeep, we did go to 2 villages, but English was a language to which my guide could only shrug a response. This was a more enterprising arrangement, with these villages accepting bus loads of tourists and having a tourist centre and merchandise centre. Here it was acceptable to venture past the threshold and there was nothing that gave a hint of creature comforts. Again the dirt floor, beds a platform of timber covered in blankets, two low wooden chairs and a fire burning in a pit in the centre of the room. Grandmothers play a big part in childcare here, most having a child on their back or hip. If the child is tied to the back, there is a piece of plastic protecting from any little accidents because nappies are not part of the attire.
When I got back to town, I ran the gauntlet and made some of the local women happy with my souvenir purchases. They sell a lot of beautiful hand embroidered clothes, bags, cushion covers and blankets. There is also trade in silver bangles and earrings. I just had to remember that what I bought, I carried.....but my small case had wheels. The women sit in the street working away on small pieces of cloth, but the dye from the fabric turns their hands blue. Needless to say, I wrapped everything before I put them in my bag. The craft of needlework is taught from a young age and all female members of the family are involved in the industry.
I wandered around the town, it is steep but alive with a mingling of tourists and locals. The market sells fresh fruit and veggies along with handicrafts. There are plenty of hotels and restaurants to meet the tourists needs. I just loved it and have promised James that we will both seek refuge from the heat there in summer.
I did the return journey, again lucky to have the train cabin to myself. I found Hanoi Airport not very welcoming at 5am, especially when my flight wasn't until 10.30. I managed to get an earlier flight, we boarded at 8.15, only to have to get off again straight away, apparently a security matter, a passenger had got on, then decided to get off again, so the pilot refused to fly....bugger. I had met up with a young Aussie couple and these events brought the girl to tears. It seemed she was already terrified of flying and was now saying to her boyfriend that it was all his fault that they were going to die. I think she was a bit of a fragile thing, they went on a home stay and16 km trek not knowing it was that long (derrrr....read the brochure). She stopped half way, refusing to go further and just sat in tears. She thought the jeep was going to pick them up and was not happy when she found out she had to walk back the next day. Anyway, no sooner were we off than we were back on again, the pilot happy to fly. When we took off, there was turbulence and a glance toward my new young friend showed a red face streaming tears and the boyfriend stroking her head. When we landed, she was first off.
I was home in time to empty my bags onto the floor, shower and off to work on the back of a bike. It was only a few days but it seemed like a week. It was great and I highly recommend a visit to that rooftop town with lots discover.