The sun sets over the Mekong, and on my tour

Rope swings and I have fallen out.

Just a couple of days after a self-induced faceplant on the surface of a Laos river, thanks to a souped-up member of the rope swing world, today I managed to damage my hand after another go on a pendulum play-thing.

This time, it was purely an old-fashioned knotted rope tied to a tree over one of the most stunningly blue waterfall lagoons I’ve ever seen.

With Dirk at the waterfalls

Ricky, Alissa and I had taken a trip to see the Kuang Sii waterfalls near Luang Prabang, a half hour ride away from the town, and after little sleep the night before from the overnight journey, a dip in the pool to wake us up was definitely needed.

The rope swing platform was a huge tree that leans over the water, and the way up was by clambering over its slippery roots and using a hooked stick to grab the rope. My first attempt was great, and like the tubing, good fun. My second attempt wasn’t so good – mainly as I accidentally wrapped the knotted rope around the wrong hand, the one that was to take my weight.

The result: having just gallantly got the rope for two good looking girls in front of me, who were now watching from the side, I stepped off the tree, the rope tightened around my hand, some knots whipped around it and took off some skin, and I clumsily dropped into the water in a heap.

Dirk was on hand with my camera to capture the unfortunate, and painful, moment. The girls had disappeared.

Pillock.

The waterfalls area is also home to a bear sanctuary, most of which were chilling out underneath the jungle canopy. A couple of them were enjoying some time out in some specially-made hammocks, the only thing I think they needed to complete the relaxed picture was a bear beer.

Bud - weis - errr

That night was our last night in a main town – the next two days will be spent on the Mekong River on a slow boat north to the Thai border. Ricky was preparing to leave the group, as he is meeting a friend in Chiang Mai, and so it was our last night all together on the tour.

Being 'chef'

We went to a fantastic barbecue restaurant, where the barbecue comes to you. It’s a typical southeast Asia way of barbecuing, where a small bucket of coals are brought to the table and topped off with a metal tray and what looks like and upside down colander. Soup is poured around the base, which is then filled with noodles and fresh vegetables, while a tray of meat is brought out to cook on the top.

A few of us shared chicken, pork and water buffalo – it’s quite a popular meat around Laos, probably because there are so many of them, and I have to say its incredibly nice. It’s like a lean beef, and the bits we had were lovely and tender, so much so that we ordered more. Our tour leader Fon was in good spirits too, possibly because she knew she wasn’t far from her native home, but probably because she knew within a few days she will be free of us!

Fon and a plant

After a walk around the night market, everyone went to bed early as it was an early start in the morning, with a short trip down to the river at 7am to catch the boat back to Thailand.

A wave from everyone. Well, almost everyone...

We piled onto a tuk tuk, and I said farewell to Ricky who was moving on to meet his friend at the airport. He’d been umming and ahhing about whether to complete the tour by taking the boat trip with us all, but decided it was cutting it too fine to get to the airport in time.

I knew Ricky would be on the boat with us!

Goodbyes done, I got onto the tuk tuk – only to turn around and see Ricky marching out of the hotel with his backpack and a smile on his face. He’d changed his mind after Fon told him about a bus service from the Thai border he could catch. I pretended to mop up my tears and told him he wouldn’t be getting another manly hug when he left us for a second time!

There are two options for getting back up the Mekong to the border point, and we’re taking the slower, safer one. The other is to take a speedboat service, but that is seen to be incredibly dangerous. The river is peppered with rocky outcrops that threaten to stand in the way of even the most careful of speedboat drivers. The fact only the driver gets a crash helmet wouldn’t fill me with confidence either.

Getting onto the slow boat

A few on the tour were not looking forward to the boat ride, seeing it as two days trapped on a vessel. I saw it as two days to relax amid incredible scenery, and in the end that was the opinion that came out on top. It sounds a lot to spend two days on a boat, but with a combination of good banter, a blog to catch up on and a great game of cards, the time soon flew by.

Poker on the boat

Our guide Fon was outed as a bit of a poker shark when we enticed her into a game. My cotton bud chips came out to play again, and we even taught the boat guide how to play a hand. The entire first afternoon was passed playing cards, gently bobbing around on the Mekong, drifting past lush green mountains, herds of wild water buffalo bathing in the waters and children waving on mounds of sand at the boat full of foreigners waving back.

Tasty...

As the sun began to set, we stopped in a small town for the night. There are no navigation lights on the boats, and I guess the river is too dangerous to sail at night due to the rocks dotted all over the surface of the Mekong, so it provided an opportunity to stock up on snacks and food for the next day.

Thailand-bound

After a very short sleep, it was 5am and time to catch the boat again before we knew it. We’d been warned it would be an early start, necessary to get us to the Thai border before it either closed or started charging more after a certain time.

Early and cold!

With sleeping bags at the ready, we piled back onto the boat in the dead of night and found a spot to make a bed.

Zzzzz

Mine was a part of the floor near a step, in the hope people wouldn’t stand on me. It was extremely chilly, and I was glad to have a nice warm sleeping bag I could curl up in, and combined with the gentle rocking of the boat and the constant noise of the engine and the water, I was soon back asleep again, as was everyone else in the group. Infact, it was a very quiet morning as people caught up on sleep, although I managed to wake up and catch up on some blogging.

Snooze boat

It was yet another fantastically hot and sunny day, perfect weather for cruising down the river. Everyone was in good spirits, although there was the knowledge that within a couple of days, the tour would be over and everyone would go their separate ways.

Beautiful

I’m already thinking about what to do afterwards, as its become clear that the tour will only be in Chiang Mai, Thailand’s second biggest city, for a grand total of four hours. Its been timed so that the group reaches the northern city at lunchtime, and is then booked onto the train back to Bangkok at 5.55pm that night. Considering so many people have told me good things about the place, Ive decided that I will leave the tour there and make my own way back south. I had planned to visit the north, and it made sense to stay there rather than finish the tour and then travel back north. Fon agreed – its something quite a few people have done, and Canadian Alissa agreed to do the same with me.

As we approached the border crossing at Chiang Kong, we were sailing up no-mans land. On our right, Laos, which had been our home for the past week. On our left, Thailand, which was to be my home for at least the next few weeks. As the river forms the border, it’s a slightly unusual procedure with the passports as when you’ve got your exit stamp from Laos, you have to get a longtail boat across the river to Thailand, where you get an entry stamp.

Speedboat border crossing

We said yet another goodbye to Ricky at the border, who this time definitely was leaving us to meet his friend. Now there were just nine of us, although the German couple had decided they didn’t want to associate with us anymore (apparently, it was to do with a couple of us being five minutes late for dinner one night) and so their end of the table was distinctly mute. Dinner was something we’d all been waiting for – a lovely Thai green curry and rice, and it had definitely been worth waiting for.

Goodbye Laos

The rest of the group had decided they wanted to leave the border town at 6am in the morning, to maximise time in Chiang Mai. For me, what time I left wasn’t an issue, but despite the early start, I wasn’t going to complain – I would probably want to do the same. I hardly slept during the night however, and when my alarm went off at 5.30am, I felt shattered. Thankfully, I managed to bag the back seat of the minibus, so I was able to stretch out and sleep a bit more.

I woke up to hear the driver saying: “Wakey wakey, temple,”

It was 8am, and having seen a fair few temples in the past few weeks, the thought of another didn’t fill me with the joys of spring. But then I saw it.

The White Temple - incredible

It was like something out of a film, a magical place from somewhere like Snow White or Narnia. The White Temple near Chiang Rai was for me, one of those places that takes your breath away. I couldn’t stop looking at the gleaming white construction, glinting away as the early morning sunshine tried to break through the clouds and reflect off the millions of tiny mirror pieces incorporated into the design

Hands reaching for help

I think the element that captured my imagination was the fact it was such a contemporary way of making a temple appeal. Its classed as a piece of art, as well as being a working place of worship.

Aliens!

Its designer and builder is someone from the village, adding to the structure as and when time and money allows. The grounds are filled with anything from gargoyles to aliens, to keep evil spirits away, while a stunning piece of art around the main walkway entrance to the temple sees dozens of hands rising up from underneath the ground, symbolising those who need help in hell. It was all very cleverly done, yet tasteful and still in keeping with the whole place of meaningful worship thing.

Just to the side was a hut selling lucky trinkets, and I saw Fon buy one and hang it on a rail. She told me it’s the luck from the Buddha, and you hang it to bring good fortunes your way. She suggested it would be nice to hang it on a Christmas tree, so I bought one to send home to my parents for their tree. I then started wondering if superstition could kick in, seeing as I’m sending something that’s supposed to bring me luck thousands of miles away. It began eating away at me – I had visions of something bad happening the moment I sent it, so I went back and bought one for myself too!

Superstition won me over

A few hours later it was time for the last group outing, a trip to Tiger Kingdom on the outskirts of Chiang Mai, a place where instead of looking at tigers through a cage, you can go inside with them. Part of me feels a bit uneasy, not just because I could very realistically get eaten, but because I worry about animal welfare in touristy places like zoos and exhibits.

Ah, little kitty!

Having satisfied myself by reading the information booklet that the animals are well cared for, we bought tickets to spend time with both the biggest tigers, and the smallest tigers.

What an incredible animal to get up close to. The handlers told us they were quite placid during the day, as like cats they spend a lot of time sleeping and relaxing during the day. Even so, stepping through a small opening into a cage with four fully grown, and potentially deadly, tigers was an amazing experience. We took it in turns to cuddle and pet the tigers, having photos taken and generally watch in amazement as the tigers enjoyed the fuss, even kicking their legs as they had their belly tickled.

There was one moment when the reality kicked in, as the huge tiger I had my head resting on suddenly moved and swung his paw for a toy one of the keepers was waving near its head. It was enough to make me move equally as quickly, and as the photo proved, I was a little worried about its next move!

Erm, a little unsure!!

The baby tigers, however, were the cutest of all the animals in the park. They were so playful and fun, we could have sat with them all day. Well, we could have done, had they not decided to fall asleep. Like human babies I guess, they have a small amount of play time and then need a large amount of sleep time.

Ahhhh!

That afternoon we had a final lunch together with Fon, the tour leader, before the time finally came to say goodbye. Fon had kindly rearranged my train for Alissa and I, and so we were to stay in Chiang Mai while the rest of the group made their way back south to the starting point of Bangkok. Booked onto the 5.55pm train, we both went with the group to wave them off at the station.

Aw. We'll all miss Fon!

After spending four weeks with Fon and the group, I was sad to be saying goodbye. It was easy to take all Fon’s help, all the pre-arranged coaches, tuk tuks and hotels, and all the good places to eat, for granted. Within minutes I would be back on my own, fending for myself, albeit with my Canadian friend for company. I bought a postcard and wrote a nice message on it for Fon, telling her she’d be welcome to stay at mine if ever she visited the UK, along with a tip from Ricky and I for all her hard work.

Then it was time for a few last photographs with the group beside the train. I knew I would be seeing some of them again on my travels, while others will be returning to their homes in all parts of the world. Considering we had been complete strangers just a few weeks ago, in a funny way it felt like we’d become a bit of a family, all looking out for each other and sharing all the fun times like we had. There were two that didn’t quite blend in – who didn’t even have the politeness to say goodbye, or at least wave goodbye – but that didn’t matter.

Goodbye group!

Would I do an organised tour again? Probably not – it was a bit too much of a rush for my liking. I would have preferred to spend a bit more time in each location, but then that was my choice to try and cram as much in before heading for New Year in Sydney. But then, without doing the tour, I would never have met some of the brilliant people that I have done – and that’s the beauty of something like a Gap Adventure. It was my back-up plan, my escape route if I had travelled for a month without meeting anyone. I knew a tour would put me with people, and there was a fair chance I’d make friends. So to that extent, I did absolutely the right thing. I met some incredibly people and saw some of the most beautiful parts of the world.

Alissa and I running alongside the train!

As Alissa and I ran alongside the train as it pulled out of Chiang Mai station, we both knew for us the tour was over. But the friendships that had been made – and the memories we all have together – will live on.

The tour disappears into the distance

Running for the hills

The award for the most stunning scenery on my trip so far has just gone to Laos.

It had been an incredibly long drive out of Vietnam and into this relatively unknown country, but the morning of our first day revealed exactly why this country is seen very much as a hidden gem in South East Asia.

The greenest jungles densely cover rolling mountains, rivers and streams intertwine through the undergrowth, deep red sands and soil contrast with the blue skies. Tall palm trees tower above the main jungle canopy, while eagles fly above. If a dinosaur suddenly appeared drinking water by a river, it would hardly be a surprise. With minimal human impact, it really does resemble the scenes out of the film Jurassic Park.

We left Vietnam shortly before 7am for the 10-hour drive to the border point. It was an incredibly long drive, but with our much smaller group now, there was plenty of room to spread out on the bus. With us are our new companions, a Canadian called Jaclyn, who works as an addiction counsellor back home, and a German couple. Unfortunately I’ve not yet managed to get their names, as they seem a little reluctant to want to talk to us.

The journey took us through rural life in Vietnam, the cityscape and motorbike mecca of Hanoi turning slowly into rolling paddy fields, jungles and watering holes for a growing number of water buffalo – many of which being used by farmers to haul goods to the market.

There were a few stops on the way, but most of us managed to grab some sleep, especially Ricky who has started entertaining us with his variety of sleeping positions.

We left his banana well alone

Eventually we began to wind our way up some mountain roads and towards the Nampho International Checkpoint, the exit point for Vietnam and the entry point for Laos.

It was a shame to be saying goodbye to Vietnam. After two weeks in the country, it still didn’t feel like enough, that I had only just scratched the surface. There is so much to see and do, particularly regarding its history and conflicts, that it needed at least another two weeks to do it justice. Ho Chi Minh is definitely a city I’ll visit again sometime, and the beaches still need discovering. And besides, when I need a new suit, I’ll just have to pop to Hoi An to see my new tailoring friends!

Crossing into Laos

With border formalities over, it was starting to get dark as we made our way to a guesthouse in a nearby town, but we were rewarded with a particularly beautiful sunset over the mountains.

Beautiful power lines in Laos

The next day was another major travel day to the capital, Vientiane, with hour after hour spent on the bus, driving through spectacular countryside, over glistening rivers and through countless villages made up of old wooden homes on stilts.

On the road again!

We stopped in one such village for a break, and discovered the iced coffee was particularly good, not just because it came in a plastic bag, but because it actually tasted like coffee. A few of us, particularly those of a North American background, are missing the occasional fix of a good brew, and some we’ve tried to drink have been pretty disgusting.

Cost cutting at the local Starbucks

Vientiene was only a short stop, arriving mid afternoon. We saw one of the main landmarks, Patuxai, on the way into the city. I thought it looked familiar – it resembles the Arc de Triomphe in Paris, which I thought was a hark back to the days when France occupied the country, but infact it’s a memorial to those who were killed in liberating the country.

Taken from the bus!

Strangely, it was financed by America and built with concrete that was supposed to have been used for an airfield during the Vietnam war. The Americans then gave the money for a new city airport, but instead the Laos government used the cash and concrete to build the monument – and now its nicknamed the vertical runway!

After so much travelling, and after hearing there wasn’t a great deal to see in the city apart from more temples, I decided to spend a couple of hours relaxing and taking in the atmosphere. Ricky and I enjoyed drinks and a bite to eat at a nearby bakery, and we sat outside as the sun set.

Overtaking a school bus

It was yet another early start the following morning as the tour headed to Vang Vieng, a place well known on the traveller circuit thanks to its river tubing – and river bar –exploits. We arrived around lunch time, and met up with Emma and Megan who had left the tour in Hanoi to continue their own travels. We ate at an organic restaurant before working out what we wanted to do in the afternoon. Fon suggested we visit some caves, but to do that we’d need to hire a bicycle or a moped. With time and our falling energy levels against us, the bicycle option was out, and so we hired some mopeds for about £4.

While I’ve ridden mopeds before, I must admit I’m still a bit wary about getting on one. Its not necessarily my own skills I’m worried about, but those of everyone else who uses the roads here, combined with the fact most are full of potholes and ruts. However, it was the only way to get to where we needed to be, so Dirk, Steven, Ricky and I all hired automatic ones, while Jorg, part of the German couple, hired a manual motorbike as he is the only one with an actual motorbike license back home.

We took the bikes for a test, and while mine felt like all the nuts and bolts needed a good tighten up, and the front wheel was at a bit of a funny angle, it rode quite well. There was no fuel in the tank, so a few of us filled up and then headed back to the hotel. Steven was there collecting things from the room and still needed fuel, so to save time I took his bike. Ricky and I had only just got around the corner when the one I was riding conked out. I started to push it on the half-mile or so walk to the petrol station, before Ricky offered to run with it as a bit of a work out. I then took control of his bike, which also stopped working a minute later.

By now, there were some concerns, but after taking the latest one to die back to the place where we hired it, I was given a water bottle full of petrol which I then ferried back to Ricky. It was a huge faff, but thankfully we were all soon on our way.

Most of us took a passenger with us – Jaclyn joined me for the ride – and with our tour leader Fon’s words of ‘be careful’ ringing through our ears as we left the hotel, the group of us tentatively set off down the road. That’s when disaster struck the German couple, as somehow on a right hand turn Jorg, the only one who officially rides motorbikes back home, managed to plant his front wheel in a pothole and catapulted his girlfriend over the handlebars. There was a lot of concern from all of us as they picked themselves up off the gravel track, though sadly the girl, whose name I cant remember, probably because of the way she wanted very little to do with me, decided to tell us all to stop laughing at her. Of course, we weren’t, but it was a bit of a turning point in relations between them and the group.

Heading to the caves

Shaken but uninjured, they joined us as we carefully made our way along the potholed track to a cave. It cost us 10,000 Laos Kip to visit, and a guide took us through fields towards some imposing limestone cliffs that formed part of all the mountains around us.

Headlamps on, we followed the guide up slippery steps into the hot and humid cave. There were no lights in here, unlike the caves at Ha Long Bay. For me, this was as close to proper caving as I’ve come. The walkway took us through narrow gaps in the rocks, over crevices and around stalactites and stalagmites, beyond which are impressive rock structures and shapes. It took about 10 minutes to reach the end of the train through the rocks and humidity, but it was great fun.

By the time we’d turned around and reached the fresh open air again, we were all dripping with sweat. Thankfully there was a lagoon beneath the cliff, so we all jumped in and had a lot of laughs in a huge waterfight.

The lagoon

The laughs soon came to an end when Steven’s motorbike yet again decided it didn’t want to play ball, just a few metres up the dirt track from the cave. With a good three miles to go before we reached any civilization, we tried desperately to fire up the engine, but it was having none of it. We worked out the battery was flat, but the other bikes only had a battery lead with about four inches of slack. We were about to try turning one bike on its side to try to connect a working battery to Steven’s stranded machine when two locals in a pick-up turned up, and thankfully offered to run said heap of junk (the bike, not Steven!) back to the town.

Despite an offer of some cash by way of thanks, the pick-up driver wasn’t interested – yet another example of how people in this part of the world often go out of their way to help others. Meanwhile, the German couple were quibbling over a demand for five Euros to repair the damage they’d caused to their bike when they crashed. Eyes were rolled.

Friends cafe!

Dinner that night was in one of the many ‘Friends’ bars in the town, a place where people can chill out on comfy laid back seats and watch that American ‘comedy’ that my friends know I’m not a great fan of.

Nom!

It was nice to sit with a Beer Lao and relax though, watching bedraggled people walking by having dropped off their giant inflatable rubber rings at a nearby Tubing store.

Later that night we went to Q Bar in the town, and despite the fact it was relatively early in the night, we found utter carnage! People were covered in permanent pen, in various states of undress, varying levels of drunkenness and many were packed onto a stage dancing the night away, clutching buckets of Laos whisky and coke. It was only about 10pm, but then this is Vang Vieng and the home of Tubing…

Q Bar...this could get messy!

Tomorrow it’s our turn!

A smile from a local in Hoi An

Nha Trang, in the south east of Vietnam, gave us a lot of fun. We arrived tired off the overnight train, but there had been mention of a waterpark nearby. Little did we know it would be one of the biggest water theme parks in Asia!

Arriving at Nha Trang

It had been played down a little by Fon, who told us there was only one slide, and instead was trying to recommend various boat trips. After a bit of searching on the internet, I found the website for Vinpearl resort, complete with all its photographs of waterpark heaven.

It was a bit pricey – about £11 – but it didn’t take long to convince people, and soon there was eleven of us following my slightly childish love of slides and heading to a taxi.

The ski lift to the waterpark

To reach the resort, which is located on an island, you have to take the special chairlift. It’s a familiar design – its actually a Poma ski gondola, but it turns out its also the longest chairlift crossing over water in the world.

A huge cruise ship was parked up in the blue waters nearby, but the theme park was incredibly empty. It meant we could ride and slide to our heart’s content – particular favourites being the huge family raft tube which almost threw us off the side, a kamikaze style steep slide which had cheese-grater style joints which deprived your back of a few layers of skin, and a fairground-style ride that spins you round and upside down.

Scary stuff. The rides were frightening too

A few of the lads had discovered the ride just after lunch, thinking it would be fairly tame. It gave us a bit of a shock – partly as every now and again, while you were barely held in upside down, there was a worrying jolt and a metallic sound which didn’t sound too healthy. It spun you around upside down until most of your blood was in your head, far longer than anything back home, and eventually it brought you back down to earth.

I love theme park rides, and Hull Fair is one of my highlights every year, but there was something about that ride that just did not feel safe. Everyone felt the same, but we decided we’d tell the girls that it was good fun and get them on it at the end of the day.

Potential death trap

It was a decision which could have backfired – it meant we’d have to put our lives in the hands of some dodgy Vietnamese ride technology yet again, but it could also mean we’d lose quite a few friends. As it happens, they all seemed to enjoy it far more than us – Fon our tour leader even shouting for the ride operator to send us up again for another dose!

Thankfully we didn’t, but after a full day of swimming, sliding and a bit of volleyball on the beach, everyone was shattered. We had a few beers at a nearby bar, and then tried, unsuccessfully, to find a late bar, before ending up in a sidestreet place being beckoned in by a big burly Australian.

He told us how he’d moved there having met the love of his life – a picture of him and his Vietnamese wife on their wedding day hangs on the wall – and that while he didn’t make any money, he loved the country and decided to stay. There was a gaggle of older blokes outside, each with their own Vietnamese ‘love of their life’ hanging off their arm. Ricky decided he would tell everyone he was Russian, and occasionally changed from his Yorkshire accent mid way through a sentence while talking to a French bloke. It was amusing, but all a bit odd, and we went for bed.

The next day was spent feeling quite ill. Having been out the night previous, I’d missed taking my anti-malaria tablet so thought it would be a good idea to take it as soon as I remembered the next morning. Big mistake! An hour later, just as I reached a restaurant for brunch, I broke out in a fever and sweats with one of the worst headaches and sickness. It left me feeling washed out for much of the day.

A pretty horrendous journey on an overnight bus (see my previous post!) took us to Hoi An, the silk and tailoring capital of Vietnam.

Cheapest beers ever!

It’s a historic port city, with huge Chinese and French influences and a great deal of history. Its built up around a river, along which boasts some of the cheapest beer in the world. At the equivalent of just 15p, it was rude not to indulge in some, especially as the weather was on the turn.

75p for a round - even I got one in!

The city has around 400 expert tailors, and is famous for its made to measure clothes. Many of the girls were excited about a full day of shopping amid colourful – and I have to say, very impressive – dresses and skirts. After looking around at suits, and finding out I could save a few hundred pounds on a tailored one from the UK by having one made here, I realised it would be stupid not to have one made.

She could have done with a stool...

I shopped around and was quoted around $160 for a suit. At £100 it was still quite a good deal, but I ended up bumping into Dirk who’d just splashed out $220 on two suits and three shirts. He took me to the shop and introduced me to Lu, and demanded she gave me a good deal. I’ve never made a suit from scratch before, and it was strange to be shown all the different fabrics and to have to choose a colour and appearance.

Measuring time

I went for a charcoal grey material, made of a cashmere wool and silk blend, and was quoted $140. I ended up knocking that down to $100, and then getting a tailored shirt thrown in for an extra $10. I was shown some design catalogues, picked the look I wanted and told to come back the following day at 11am for a fitting.

Before I’d left the shop, my material was already being cut and prepared and being laid out on the floor by Lu who was quite possibly one of the bubbliest, friendliest shopkeepers I’ve met out here. I don’t quite know how they manage to make clothes so quickly overnight, but I was about to find out.

Somehow overnight this becomes a suit and shirt!

The next day Ricardo, Dirk, Malcolm and I decided to hire cycles, so at 11am I rode back to the shop for my fitting. The shirt and trousers were already hanging up waiting for me, and fitted absolutely perfectly. Its so hard to find trousers that fit me well, and they alone were worth paying the money for. The suit jacket was handed to me but needed a few alterations for it to fit properly. I was told to return at 5pm, so in the meantime we all went for a ride to a nearby beach.

I want to ride my....

Having had plenty of experience of watching cyclists dicing with death through the windows of various buses in the last few weeks, I had a fair idea of what to expect, although thankfully the roads around Hoi An are relatively quiet.

On my bike

It was nice to take to two wheels and make our way through the countryside, with fellow tourists giving us a wave and a smile as we passed by. It was only a dollar to hire a bike for the day so it made sense to see a bit of the region while we could, and after a few Larue beers over the last few days, it was some much needed exercise.

It was about 8km to the nearest beach, and as we entered the village we got flagged down by someone at the side of the road with a whistle. Thinking it was the Vietnamese police, we pulled off into a shed, where someone was waiting with tickets. Apparently, no bicycles were allowed at the beach. It was a lie! It was only a short walk though, so we paid the 10p per bike they were wanting and headed to the sands.

Rubbish beach

We needn’t have bothered. As Ricky said, it was ‘probably the worst beach he’d ever been to,’ and I had to agree. The weather had undoubtedly battered the coast – one of the locals told us it was the tail end of a cyclone – and the waves were still rough. Along with some washed up palm trees, there was rubbish everywhere, and on closer inspection it soon became clear where it was all from – China.

The message was missing

The horizon we were trying to see through the mist and spray was over the greeny-coloured South China Sea, and all the tins, plastic bottles and glass containers washing up on the Vietnamese shore would indicate tonnes of the stuff is being thrown into the sea further up the coast and ending up littering what would otherwise be, on a calm and sunny day, a beautiful bit of coastline.

We carried on up the coast to see if it improved, but it didn’t. Instead, we headed back towards Hoi An for some lunch, but taking time to get photos of local farmers and fishermen working in the surrounding paddy fields, while some of the local cows took an interest in us.

Meeting a few more locals

We had lunch at a bar and restaurant across the road from the hotel. It was one I’d spotted as it was advertising a free pool table on the door, and it was about time some of our competitive streak came out in us again. After a few frames, it started raining outside again – and it just didn’t stop. It was absolutely torrential, so much so the roads began to flood. Running across the road to the hotel opposite was enough to soak you through. Most of the group had taken refuge back in their rooms, but most of the group, me included, also had to get back into town for 5pm for a final fitting.

Thankfully I still had my cycle parked outside the hotel, so having dug out my Berghaus again, cycled off through the puddles to Le Loi street, where my suit was hanging on a door waiting for me. This time it was too tight – and meant another trip back at 7pm. In between, I had to return the cycle, so either way I knew it meant a drenching. Sure enough, it was still hammering down, and I arrived back at the shop with all the girls laughing at me. They sat me down and gave me a bottle of water, taking my raincoat and hanging it to dry off.

The suit and swimshorts look is in, right?!

The suit fitted really well, with sleeves the perfect length and no wrinkling at the back. It’ll probably be a different story by the time I go back to work, but within a few minutes a courier was at the shop ready to pack it off to the UK. It was $28 to send it via sea mail, but thankfully I had a brainwave and asked how much to send another kilo of belongings from my rucksack. It was $2 more, but meant walking back to the hotel.

Thankfully Lu said I could borrow her bike, so back I went on her traditional ladies cycle, much to the amusement of the hotel porter when I arrived. Twenty minutes later, I was back at the shop with the pay as you go mobile phone Dad got me when my iPhone broke, my unused electric shaver, some books and a few more souvenirs and papers. Every little helps when it comes to keeping the weight on your shoulders down!

With my first ever made-to-measure suit on its way home, dinner was, unsurprisingly, at the same bar and restaurant opposite the hotel as we had lunch, and the evening was spent playing pool as it continued to lash down outside. There’s no wonder the staff at the restaurant joined the hotel staff in waving us off the next morning – we certainly gave them a lot of business during our short stay!

When it rains, it pours - especially on the mountain pass

We headed off on a four hour journey north to Hue, pronounced ‘Huway’ due to the French influence in the area. The rain was still incessant, meaning we couldn’t take a spectacular mountain pass and instead had to travel through Asia’s longest tunnel, at about 6.9km.

It came out onto some tight hairpin bends in scenery that seemed familiar, and then Malcolm confirmed why. We’re following the same route that Top Gear did when they filmed in Vietnam, and I distinctly remembered the stretch of road we were on. After a few unnerving twists and turns, we arrived in Hue – and still the rain continued to pour.

I’m writing this with my heart in my mouth. My good friend Colin just grabbed my arm with genuine fear. We’re travelling on what might possibly be the most frightening journey of our lives.

We’ve had to take a night sleeper bus to Hoi An, as the night train which was supposed to take us there was cancelled after the railway line was hit by a lorry last night. Travelling around Vietnam is proving to be an experience.

All smiles before the journey!

I’m currently typing as we’re climbing mountain passes above the sea in the dead of night. The lights were switched off at 7.30pm, its pitch black and I’m laying in my sleeper bunk, while Colin and Ricky are next to and behind me. Its fair to say we are all clinging on to the metal railings as tight as we can, while the driver of the bus a few metres away is happily overtaking on blind bends, talking on a mobile phone and generally swerving all over the place.

I’ll admit, writing this blog entry is partly to take my concentration away from the dramas going on through the front windscreen, partly to look back on in the future and remember just how petrified many of us are, and partly so that if this laptop is found in the wilderness below one day, there will be a record of exactly how it ended up stuck in a tree.

The news that we were to change from a comfortable sleeper train to this worrying form of transport was posted on the Gap Adventures noticeboard in the hotel lobby this morning. Its news that wasn’t particularly well received by anybody, mainly as nobody was looking forward to an overnight train ride, let alone one on bumpy roads in a tightly packed bus.

Colin and Sarah before we set off

Despite our annoyance, we all got onboard when it picked us up outside the hotel at 6.30pm. For most of us it’s the first time we’ve experienced a sleeper bus, and I think for many of us it could possibly be the last. Its clearly built with shorter Vietnamese people in mind – my bed isn’t quite long enough for my six foot frame, and the three abreast formation is cosy to say the least. We all ended up laughing about the situation, apart from Colin who failed to sleep a wink on the train, and knows he’s in for another sleepless night on a bus.

I can just about straighten my legs!

The bus is laid out with about 30 bunks, which are a bit like unadjustable thin hospital beds. Your feet tuck under the head of the person in front of you, while there’s a little rack to balance snacks and bags. I chose a bed on the bottom left near the front of the bus, offering a grandstand view of some of the ‘oh my God’ moments that were about to unfold in front of us.

The bus was full when we left the second pick up in Nha Trang, but that doesn’t seem to matter here. If you have money, you can have a seat, even if that does mean you’re on the floor inbetween everyone else who has a proper seat. Soon we were picking up Vietnamese locals needing a lift, until we got to a point where all the aisles were full of people. I had one man right next to me – invading my ‘personal space’ territory, happily watching as I tapped away on my laptop, giving me a cheeky smile every now and again.

Poor quality picture, but you can just see Colin's new friend in the aisle!

The next eye-opener was when we stopped for fuel on the outskirts of Nha Trang, when many of us noticed that a large portion of the bus appeared to be held together by parcel tape.

Sellotape had a field day

It was a fact confirmed by Dirk, our German tour mate, who was unfortunate enough to be placed at the back of the bus, squashed between Vietnamese families and under a dripping skylight that was covered with tape. The bottom of the bus was also full of holes.

Our holy bus!

The main eye-opener was the driving. While Mongolian roads a few weeks ago were scary for their general lack of rules and order, Vietnamese drivers do at least tend to stick to traffic lights and speed limits. But it’s the increased number of mopeds without lights and a need to overtake anything in the way as quickly as possible that causes problems here, while braking is only to be done at the last moment, if indeed it’s done at all.

With no proper motorways, the end result is motorway-style driving on a grand scale along a road with more twists than the A46, and more potholes than the moon.

Quite often our bus is driving along the wrong side of the road, oncoming drivers keep flashing their full beam at us, the sound of a loud horn is so frequent it just becomes background noise. The feeling as we career around a blind bend, overtaking a van or lorry, only to see headlights suddenly appear, is quite hard to explain. And every few minutes, his stupid mobile phone ringtone goes off, to which he answers and has a cheery natter with someone.

I know road rules and driving standards vary in different countries, but this is in another league!

Colin donned his special hat for luck

Its only 10pm and for those of us still awake, our nerves have pretty much gone. As we climbed up a mountain pass, with a sheer drop into the sea below us, lorries roared past with just an inch or so clearance. Slower, more careful drivers were just an irritant for our driver, who made it his mission to overtake as quickly and as dangerously as possible.

At one point, the whole bus rolled to one side after he misjudged a bend, making many of us think we were heading for the roadside barrier and a bit of a swim. That’s when Colin grabbed my arm, thinking the end was near.

“This is honestly the most terrified I’ve ever been,” he said.

Ricardo said he was genuinely contemplating getting off and hiring a car for the rest of the journey.

“The oncoming lights just keep getting bigger and nearer,” he laughs, nervously.

I keep telling myself the driver must know what he’s doing as he drives this route for a living. But theres still a nagging feeling of doubt hanging over me.

Some of the others have nodded off, blissfully unaware of all the drama around us. Maybe I should do the same. Hopefully I’ll write more tomorrow.

Smiles from Victoria, Tamsin and Cindy. Colin reached breaking point!

We survived! Thankfully, I’m able to write more – we made it to Hoi An almost three hours later than scheduled somehow. We were all just glad to have made it in one piece. Most of us actually got some sleep, although there was one moment in the middle of the night where there was a huge blast of horns, the brakes were slammed on and in my slumber I remember a swerving feeling before the distinct rumble and bumpiness of going off road.

I didn’t actually open my eyes – I didn’t want to see what was going on and decided if it was the end, I’d rather be asleep!

I did open my eyes at about 4am though, with the feeling of something crawling over my feet. It didn’t feel too small either, and with the help of my camera display screen being used as a torch, examined the area where I had my feet.

A cockroach.

I tried to shoo it out but it wandered off somewhere, so I went back to sleep. I’m obviously getting used to living alongside the bugs here now!

This was all combined with quite possibly the angriest bus driver I’ll probably ever meet, who ironically demanded we take our shoes off before getting on to his cockroach infested vehicle. There were a number of occasions where his face scrunched up and he yelled something in Vietnamese, and with a flick of his hand yet another person had been reprimanded for taking one footstep too far in a flip flop.

It all ended in a playing field somewhere in Hoi An, where our luggage, if it wasn’t soaked already from the hold of the leaky bus, was thrown into the mud. We were dumped without any onward transport to our hotel. Someone from the bus company was shouting at our tour leader Fon, who by now was looking exasperated. I could tell it hadn’t been the easiest of journeys for her either – it’s the first time she’d had to take a sleeper bus too.

Hoi An in one piece - just!

It turned out Gap Adventures had been promised a transfer to the hotel, but once the money had been taken and we’d reached the destination, the bus company and angry driver decided otherwise. We trooped around the town to our hotel, and then on for some breakfast at a lovely French café by the river.

Fon said she wasn’t too hungry.

“I had two cockroaches in my bed last night, and they weren’t there this morning. I think I’ve eaten them…I’m full of cockroach,” she joked.

It was certainly a journey few of us will forget.