Back To Bangkok Baby!

So as the taxi wound it's way through the Friday night rush hour, I noticed that it wasn't as busy as it usually is on the roads, and that high up on the flyover an enormous line of cars were just parked up. Could it be that the CNN scaremongering about the floods actually hitting Bangkok were true?

As we got to my hotel - the Siam@Siam Square - I was kinda shocked to see the sandbags piled up outside MBK mall and the art gallery. After I'd checked in I asked about the weekend market at Chatuchak and was told that it was cancelled because the entire area was flooded! My god it really must be bad.

The hotel was another find on Agoda, and it's what they still call a 'design' hotel. In the 90's this would've had the cover of *Wallpaper or a full feature in The Face. It's still kinda cool, but actually I just want somewhere clean and safe and luxurious. Concrete walls and floors, and lights too dim to read by don't really float my boat so much these days. Still the location was fabulous being next door to the gallery, and opposite most of the massive shopping malls.

It was pretty late when I arrived and so I didn't go too far, just out for some dinner before hitting the sack. Saturday I was up with the lark and off out spending. In the entire month in Vietnam I barely bought anything other than food and drink and the odd souvenir t-shirt, but in the following 72 hours in Bangkok I more than made up for it! I really do think I am the best kind of socialist, redistributing my "wealth' wherever I go!

Apart from a fabulous pair of Nikes and a couple of things I can and will wear for gigs, I also treated myself to something I'd been after for a while, a new Thai tattoo. One of these days I'll get something really big, but for now I wanted some more words to inspire me. My mantra is Om Mani Padme Hum and so I had that translated into Thai and tattooed onto my right wrist. While I was getting it done I was chatting to a Finnish BMX champion (?) and he was so impressed with my bravery that we ended up having dinner afterwards. Fabulous!

The rest of my time was spent organising myself for the upcoming gigs and of course booking my own flight to Singapore - more of which later - I really do love Bangkok and thankfully none of the water made it down into the centre!

Tour Of Duty ... Part Six - Back On Track

My flight to Saigon wasn't with Vietnam Airlines for a change, it was with an airline called JetStar Pacific, and after this one trip I can guarantee I won't ever be flying with them again! You know all those warnings about switching off your phones, laptops, iPods etc? All bollocks! The two drunken men next to me spent the entire flight on the phone, using the wi-fi (or 3G) on their iPad to google me and to translate what we were saying to each other and not a word was said by the stewardesses! Nor did we all crash and die because someone wanted to tell his mate he was ON A PLANE! They really were that loud and that indiscreet too! Still they were both camp as buggery and we had a right laugh.

Once I landed my driver was waiting to take me back to the hotel with no windows, but very reasonable rates and to my extreme joy I was given a fabulous room! It even had a window! Not facing the outside world I grant you, it overlooked reception, but it was a window all the same. My stuff that had been left at the travel company was delivered to my room and within an hour I had unpacked most of it and filled a huge bag with laundry. The hotel charges by the kilo - most unusual for a hotel - and so a ton of washing was gonna cost me pennies.

I went out for some Pho and was back in my room and fast asleep by midnight. The next day I spent wandering around the more upmarket area of Ho Chi Minh City, and to my joy I managed to buy a new pair of Birkenstocks. The pair I'd brought out with me were pretty knackered to start with and had only gotten worse. I wore the new ones and binned the old there and then. I had a really lovely day - and night - wandering about, getting pedicures, eating fab food and just loving this part of Vietnam. I rounded the evening off with a visit to the Water Puppet show. This sounded like a really touristy thing to do and that's why I hadn't done it up until now, but I figured it was worth a punt and boy was it ever! It really brought out my inner child, a fabulous hour.

The next morning I was up bright and early to pack and head off again. This time back to Nha Trang. It was one of the places I'd really liked on the tour and I decided after the horrors of Sapa that I needed a few day's beach time. I'd found a pretty good beachfront hotel on Agoda and booked a flight with Vietnam Airlines to get me there.

Once I'd checked in and unpacked I went off exploring and found a supermarket. It was a massive one selling all kinds of western stuff too. I stocked up on water and green tea, and in the toiletries section I did something worthy of the old impulsive me. I bought a hair dye. It wasn't a brand I was used to, though it did say Wella on the box so I figured I'd be ok.

I went blonde again as soon as I returned from India but out here I just wasn't feeling it at all. I've probably spent more of my life with blonde hair than my natural brown, but it's just not me at this point in my life, so I opened the box of 'Warm Sensual Brown' when I got back to the hotel and chucked it on before I had too much time to think about what I was doing.

As I waited for it to develop it did hit me that in the past when I've gone darker, there's usually a few days when the dye on the scalp comes off on the pillowcase. I learned that the hard way, having to chuck out several good ones in the past at home. I didn't wanna piss the hotel off so I pulled out all the dark coloured t-shirts I had and used them as pillow cases! I can be a right clever bugger sometimes.

Finally the time came to rinse it off and dry it, as I did, I knew I'd done the right thing. It sounds mad but I felt that the me in the mirror was more like the me inside.
The next few days were spent doing very little. I sunbathed, went for walks on the beach, ate Pho, and did a bit of writing. The perfect wind down.

One thing I stupidly did was ask someone at the hotel to enquire about changing my flight back to Saigon for an earlier one so that I'd have plenty of time to make my connecting flight to Bangkok. She asked but when they said they wanted a ton of money to change it I said to leave it as it was. You can imagine then, just how distressed I was to find that she'd gone ahead and changed the damn thing anyway (or someone had). When I went to check for my early afternoon flight, I was told there was no reservation. Sure enough I should've been on the 9am one!

Somewhere an angel must be watching out for me, or else my Ganesha tattoo really does have my back because when I booked this ticket there were no economy seats left and I had to get a business class one - it wasn't a huge amount more - but because of that the airline let me on the flight I was originally booked on and they apologised for the mistake. The hotel - The Michelia in Nha Trang - well they have yet to acknowledge either the numerous emails or phone calls I made. Another place to avoid folks!

By Friday nighttime I was back in Bangkok, but it was a different place to the one I'd left four weeks earlier...

Tour Of Duty ... Part Five...Hell On Earth

I paid $16 for use of a room for three hours. This was needed as later on I’d be catching the night train to Sapa, and I wanted to freshen up and get my warmer clothes out. Before I did any of that I dashed to the local mini-mart to stock up on supplies. It’d been a long time since I’ve been on any trains anywhere, but I’d guessed there’s no buffet car on Vietnamese trains.

To say I was apprehensive about the journey is an understatement. Sharing a sleeping compartment with three total strangers is not my idea of fun, and I wasn’t honestly expecting to get any sleep at all.

By 7pm I was all layered up in whatever warm clothing I could find, and ready to go. A couple who were on the Ha Long boat trip were also coming on the train, and when the woman arrived to take us to Hanoi station she confirmed that we’d be three of the four in that compartment. So not total strangers then.

The station was crazy, just like in the movies. There’s lots of overnight trains heading out and without the guide’s help I daresay I’d have been on the wrong one. I saw another couple of Ha Long people but they were on a different one to me - shame they were a really funny, cool couple. The gate was opened for our train and off we went.

I was told that our compartment was a VIP one - well it’s all relative innit? I mean there were no chickens or goats but equally there wasn’t much else apart from four wooden bunks with bits of foam on top of them. We did all get a tiny bottle of complimentary water though. This was no Orient Express!

A fourth person joined us and he climbed onto the bunk above me - I’d made sure I was on the bottom. Within minutes we were off! Up and down the carriage people were picnicing, making phone calls, smoking illegal fags, and generally making a noise, but around 30 minutes after we pulled out of Hanoi I was fast asleep. Apart from an old man coming into our compartment by mistake in the middle of the night, I had one of my best ever sleeps!

We were woken about 10 minutes outside of the Lao Cai station and as we opened the curtains, boy was the view a shock. Basically the mist was so heavy you couldn’t really see anything. It looked bloody cold too! A local tour guide met us, along with about 15 other people and we were crammed - luggage and all - into a tiny minibus.

From this point onwards this leg of the trip began to go downhill, ironically as we were going uphill! We drove for a good hour on some of the worst roads I’ve ever been on to the hill station. According to the itinerary we were to be taken to our hotels to check in and freshen up before having breakfast and being driven to some of the nearby villages for a bit of a tour.

The reality was that we were dropped at some random hotel that nobody was staying in and told to eat here, then afterwards we would be going on a 10km trek up in the mountains! I’m afraid my good humour (tenuous at the best of times) completely evaporated. I produced my itinerary and demanded to follow the schedule I signed up for. It was so cold and damp up here that my arthritis had kicked in the moment I disembarked from the train, so there was no way I was going to be trekking 10 kms on rocky, uneven ground in the rain!

Eventually, after a lot of pidgin English and a few calls to the guy I booked the entire tour with, I got taken to my hotel. They couldn’t understand that I was unable to do the trek and suggested I pay extra to have a motorbike driver take me - minus a helmet - up to the villages in the rain. I explained that unless they could get me on the first train back out of here I really just wanted to be left alone. This totally freaked them out. One thing I’ve learned is that on these organised tours, nobody is allowed to deviate from the programme (except the organisers of course) and nobody on the organisational side is allowed to make a decision. I was slowly being driven mad, so mad that instead of blowing my top and making a massive scene I slowly began to cry. Hot, heavy tears of frustration streamed down my face as I just begged to be taken back to Lao Cai where I could get a train back to Hanoi.

The lies that were spun were incredible. There were no trains, my ticket was only good for the following night’s train (they hadn’t even bought the damn ticket at that point), on and on. The tears did at least get the message across that I was deeply unhappy and if they couldn’t do as I asked to get me out, the least they could do was fuck right off. Thankfully they did!

The next day they came again with more bullshit, but I did at least get them to take me down to the station early. Once I got back there I was met by a really cool guy who organised a great dinner and gave me everything I needed to get the hell out of this godforsaken place.

Perhaps it was the fact that it came on the back of such a wonderful couple of days in Ha Long Bay, or perhaps it was the fact that it made Grimsby look fucking exotic, either way I cannot stress strongly enough that Sapa is not worth the time, effort or cash to visit. The ‘colourful locals’ all looked as though they’d been cast by Disney and their home-made handicrafts all looked suspiciously mass produced. There’s rubbish and rats everywhere and the scenery is hidden by the perpetual damp, grey mist. Really, really avoid this place!

The next day I was back in Hanoi, having once again slept really well on the train - to be honest that was the best part of the entire experience of Sapa - and even though it was raining like buggery, Hanoi seemed like paradise!

After a shower and change of clothing at the hotel, myself and the Aussie and his g/f were collected for a city tour. It was pretty awesome actually, even in the rain. We went to Ho Chi Min’s Palace and Mausoleum. Sadly he wasn’t there as every November he is taken to Russia for a touch up by the same people to fix Lenin up to look so “lifelike”. Of course there were the obligatory trips to the “Disabled People’s Workshop” and the ‘unique’ ceramic factory - again both fronts for far larger organisations mass producing crap for guilt ridden tourists. Once again I made a cash donation in the money box and went for coffee.

We were dropped back at the hotel for a quick freshen up before being taken to the airport. I was on my way back to Ho Chi Minh City, as were the Aussie and his g/f. They were on an earlier flight than me and were concerned that the late pick up time might make them miss their flight. Again that steadfast refusal to change the plans came to the fore, and even me saying I didn’t mind going early so that they still only had to do one trip went unheard.

The heavens were emptying every drop of rain they had as our driver sped out to the airport. Think of the worst car journey you have ever had and times it by a gazillion. That’s how scary this ride was. Well I say scary, I kinda enjoyed it, it felt like I was in The Sweeney or something, but the g/f in the back wasn’t used to the speed and spent most of the trip with her head in her handbag puking her guts up. Oh and they missed their flight. I dunno what happened after that as I had to go to a different part of the airport for my flight, but I’m guessing it wasn’t pretty with a puke filled handbag and a restriction on liquids onboard a plane!
This is the root of a Buddha tree according to the guide, so named because the roots grow back up out of the ground and look like Buddha. Well this one reminds me of something else!

Bali... Out Of Sync, But Who Cares?

So last week I flew into Bali with two of my fellow comedians for a gig. For whatever reason, the gig didn't happen and we got three days off on this incredible island.

When I was planning the trip I left a week at the end of it all to go wherever the fancy took me. In the back of my mind at all times was a return to Bali, but as I'd never been here before I was reluctant to commit until I'd actually seen the place.

Suffice to say, within a few minutes I knew this was where I wanted to return for my last week. I made all the arrangements, and went off to do the final three shows in Jakarta. Now some of you will know what happened to that particular plan, and at some point there'll be a blog all about the sorry saga. Not right now though as I am too blissed out and happy to want to dredge up the horrors.

Long story short I was back on the Island within 24 hours of leaving and it's just another life lesson. Things work out the way they're meant to, no matter what you think or try to do.

I've not done too much exploring here, but of course when there's an attraction with the word "monkey" in it, you know I'm there. Turns out not all of the monkeys were living ones.

Over the last couple of years I've been running around the globe and meeting all kinds of people in all kinds of situations, and here on Bali it's all kind of come together.

So far this week I've had two separate girly dinners with two incredible women I've met over the last 12 months. None of us had ever been to Bali before, none of us co-ordinated these dates, but last Saturday saw me sharing life and laughs with an amazing Aussie I met in Kuala Lumpur last year and Monday night was spent with a gorgeous gal I met in OshoWorld in Pune this year.

It's taught me a huge lesson, this world can be whatever you make it - good or bad, big or small, friendly or hostile. I am so blessed to be given all of these opportunities.

Vietnam... Things I Love

Exercise - People of all ages exercising in every tiny bit of green space everywhere. Wherever I went there were joggers, Tai Chi-ers, yoga-ers, as well as muscle-heads working out on the provided workout benches. How amazing it would be if this could be the case in the west.

The Traffic - Also in the ‘things I hate’ section. As terrifying as it is, the exhilaration you feel when you cross a busy road and don’t die is incredible! Also, as someone who failed their driving test for being ‘too cautious’ it confirms that I was right not to retake!

The Pho Bo - This beef noodle soup is Vietnamese penicillin just as chicken noodle is Jewish. The first bowl I was apprehensive, not being a massive beef eater, but by the end of week one I was having a bowl a day. Delicious, healthy, cheap and just good for whatever ails you, even if nothing ails you!

The People - What I’m learning firsthand as I travel is that people everywhere are complicated, yet at the same time simple creatures. Treat everyone with respect, try and use humour to get whatever you need and accept that when you’re in a different country, you’re a guest in their home. Their way might not be your way, but you know what, get over it!

Affordability - Possibly the cheapest country in SE Asia. Hotels, food, everything is really reasonable. Maybe it was the places I went, but there didn’t appear to be too many attempts to rip off the tourists.

The Beaches - Specifically the one at Nha Trang. Glorious white sand, clean, not too many hawkers - get there now before it all goes 'Goa'.

Vietnam... Things I Hate

Hate might be too strong a word for most of the following, but after almost a month in this amazing country these are the things that have pissed me off …

“Disabled” Workshops - Everywhere I went, from Saigon to Hanoi, one of the compulsory stops was the factory producing anything from marble statues of the Virgin Mary, to lacquer-ware wall panels featuring the face of Elvis, to silk embroidery workshops. As we pulled up at the designated stop the different guides gave exactly the same speech about how the bombs and the mines and the Agent Orange was still maiming and disfiguring people today in Vietnam. Of this I have no doubt and it’s disgusting that the US refuses to pay any reparation or fund a clear up the the land-mines that still scar the entire country. But please, please, please don’t have half a dozen physically challenged people sat at the front of your shop and expect me to believe that they have produced all of these goods for us to buy to assuage our guilt. I saw the exact same, mass-produced crap everywhere - all of it identical. If this was handmade by anybody surely there’d be some slight difference in its appearance! At each place I dropped a few thousand VND in the collection box and disappeared to the local coffee shop. Please don’t insult tourists like this.

The Traffic - There are absolutely no rules here whether you’re driving a car, a bus, a scooter or you’re walking. It’s every man/woman/child for themselves. In some of the bigger cities there’s a few zebra crossing type things and a little green man comes up to tell you to walk. Ignore him, the motorists do. As a pedestrian all you can do is just step out and have no fear of death. The minute you hesitate to try to turn back you’re fucked mate. Keep in mind that the majority of the vehicles on the road don’t really want the hassle of scraping bits of you off their front bumper and so will do their best to avoid hitting you.

“Face” - This is not just a Vietnamese thing, it happens all over region. You ask somebody a question, and even if they don’t understand, don’t know the answer or know for sure that what you’ve asked for is impossible, they will still smile and say ‘Yes’. This is the closest I have come to getting an ulcer/having a heart attack in my life. It’s ok to ask me to repeat something, or admit you don’t know everything. Saying yes repeatedly will only cause stress, anger or possibly death!

Inflexibility - This is the first time I’ve done these kind of organised bus tour things on my travels and so I am going to wildly assume its not just in Vietnam that this happens. If you read some of my other blogs you will know that there’s a couple of times on my tour that I wasn’t keen or able to go with the group. I asked simply to be allowed to do my own thing, to be left alone to please myself. This was like asking for the sacrifice of their first born child. It threw the assorted tour guides into the kind of confusion I’d not seen before. A simple case was asking the tour guide in Hanoi if it was possible, given the dreadful weather to set off 30 minutes earlier to get to the airport than was previously arranged. I wasn’t even really asking for myself, but the other two people who were being collected at the same time as me were on a flight that was going 45 minutes before mine, and I was cutting it fine! She stared at me like I had just suggested we go on a killing spree, but didn’t answer. The result of this was that the car came at the organised time, the driver to the airport was so violent that one of the other passengers vomited the entire journey, and two of the people missed their flight. Of course by then, the guide was long gone.

Tour of Duty ... Part Four (the best bit)

The morning after the cave adventure, I was wide awake and raring to go. We visited the mausoleum of the Tu Duc emperor and bizarrely, after sacking Tom, getting a refund and quitting the tour, the ‘mericans were sitting on the bus along with everyone else. The son was still behaving in a way that if he were mine (god forbid) I’d have drowned him at birth! The mother still looking embarrassed, and the fiance looking smug. Tom sat with me and led me around the site - it was great but there was that cloud hanging over him. He’d been bollocked by his boss because of their false complaint and at one point he admitted to me, quite blatantly “I don’t like Americans coming here’.

I daresay I have one or two American readers, and I have some brilliant American friends who would never act the way this pair did, but just as English people acting like twats abroad fuck it up for us, so is the way for citizens of the US. Added to that, the horrific history the country has with them.

After lunch I was off to the airport for my flight to Hanoi. I’d heard lots of great stuff about this city - the capital city - and was looking forward to my all too brief stay here.

At the airport I was collected by a driver from the local tour company, and driven into town. Hanoi seems a lot older than Saigon, and there’s endless winding roads and twisty back alleys in the Old Town where I was staying.

The hotel room reminded me of Sasha’s in Manchester as the room had no windows, granted there wasn’t a whole lot to see, but if I was gonna be staying more than one night I’d have been downstairs asking for a different room.
I dumped my bags and went off exploring. The location was brilliant as the enormous night market was just up the road. That meant a chance to stock up on a few toiletries and another bowl of delicious Pho Bo - this Vietnamese soup is vying with their coffee for my new addiction!

At 8am the next morning I was on my way to Ha Long city. I was the first person to be collected for the three hour mini-bus trip and so had my choice of seats. I wisely selected a single seat with tons of leg-room. Just as well, because the bus filled to capacity with people and then everybody’s luggage was crammed in too. I managed a sleep, but woke in time for the toilet/coffee break halfway there.

Once we got to Ha Long dockside it was sheer mayhem! There were hundreds of people milling about looking lost and the noise of the hawkers was pretty intense. Looking out to sea was worth it though, hundreds of boats waiting to take us on our tour of the Bay and the thousands of limestone Karsts. It looked like a scene from Pirates of the Caribbean!

We boarded the pilot ship that took us out to our boat - cos we were staying overnight it was a bigger boat, too big to come right into the dock - and I got a chance to survey my fellow cruisers. Suffice to say it was a mixed bunch, both in nationalities and ages and sexes.

The final group to get on were three guys that I immediately decided were gay - they were so immaculately turned out, no way could they be straight! One of them spoke and not only were they English, they were Northern - northern queens are my favourite kind, so I figured I was in for a bit of a laugh.

We boarded the main boat - it was gorgeous! Beautiful old wood, gorgeous deck, just wonderful. We were shown to our cabins, and while they were compact, it was perfect. We were invited to the restaurant for a ‘welcome drink’ and I got to chat to my fellow ship-mates.

Turns out my Gaydar needs to be adjusted for the rise of the metrosexual man - my three fellow northerners were straight! I was right about them being a laugh though. Within a few minutes we were nattering like we’d known each other for ages.

We began to sail out into the bay and after quickly unpacking the bare minimum and getting my cossie on, I was up on the top deck taking in one of the most (if not THE most) beautiful sights I have ever seen. The water a gorgeous green/blue, the Karsts rising from the depths everywhere you look, just breathtaking. With all of this to gaze at I decided not to disembark to go exploring yet another dark, dingy, scary cave. As everybody else went off to do just that, I had the boat to myself. I stretched out on a lounger and soaked up the sunshine for three solid hours - bliss.

This part of the tour has got to be the highlight of the entire trip. I just loved being on here. Even when everyone else returned from the cave and I had to share the boat again, it was still amazing.

The crew cooked delicious meals for us all, the conversation between all of us, not just the lads, was lively and fun and all of us were saying how we could quite easily spend more than just the one night on here.

After dinner we were given a choice of activities - fishing or karaoke. Hmmmm the phrase ‘rock and a hard place’ sprung to mind but once everyone realised that the fishing consisted of just dragging a bit of string attached to a bamboo pole over the side of the boat, the karaoke began to look good!

The crew were especially thrilled as they love a good sing song in this part of the world. All over Vietnam I’ve seen huge venues with enormous neon signs proclaiming KARAOKE. We got the tour guide to sing a couple of Vietnamese love songs and boy did he throw himself into it! It was great to watch. Then the funboy 3 got on the mic and that was a great laugh too. I resisted getting on the mic but I did sing along to Champagne Supernova with everyone else. A cracking night.

I got back to my room to find one of the two beds soaking wet. The people above me had let their shower run too long apparently and it was leaking down into my room. It’s a testament to how relaxed I was that this didn’t become on of my huge big dramas. The water was mopped up, and I got on with sleeping in the other bed.

The next morning we were all awake early. There was a promise about seeing the sunrise, sadly it was misty and so we didn’t, but it didn’t really matter. One of the things that we did see were the legions of elderly Vietnamese women who spend the entire day rowing around the bay going up to each boat selling everything from fags and beer to deodorant. They’re like a floating Spar shop!

Anchor up, we sailed some more around the bay checking out some of the Karsts that looked like other stuff - including ‘fighting cock’ island. As you can imaging this drew the suitable amount of sniggers from us all!


At midday we were back on dry land, all of us reluctant to leave the boat. I really could have stayed on there at least two more nights, if not more. Another three hour journey on the packed minibus and we were back in Hanoi, and I was dropped off at “Sasha’s”.

What a cracking 24 hours!

Tour of Duty... Part Three

The one where I face two of my massive fears, three if you count staying in a shit hotel!

So after 4 hours asleep on the bus, Suan’s voice buzzing through my Gorillaz playlist like an annoying mosquito, we arrived at today’s destination, sort of. We’d have to take a boat to reach the Phong Nha Cave, but before that it was time for lunch. As I was the solo foreigner now I got to eat with everybody else. One of the women spoke really good French and I understood enough of that to get by. She was really cool. Turns out they were all fascinated that I was travelling alone. My new pal said I was lucky that I was tall and strong and therefore less likely to be attacked. I didn’t tell her I’d be crap if it came to throwing punches and just agreed that my height and biceps certainly made it easier to travel unhassled. She was a tiny, fragile looking woman but I suspect if it came to it, she’d whoop my ass anyday!

After lunch we boarded a rickety old boat and headed off to the cave. Apparently during the war with the US, the locals moved in here away from the soldiers. I can see how it would’ve been a great hiding place, not to mention a good base for launching attacks on the invading forces. We sailed right inside the cave and I relaxed assuming that was it. Sadly not to be. We then got out of the boats and ventured deeper and deeper into the cave.

A couple of days before the whole thing had been flooded and as a result the footing was muddy and slippy, not to mention dark! My claustrophobia and vertigo were battling for prominence as I climbed down some slippery steps in the pitch black depths of the cave. My new French friend understood and told Tom in Vietnamese what was wrong and between them they got me through the whole adventure.

Had I known what lay ahead I might have opted out of this trip, but seeing what I saw, I’m glad I didn’t.

Amazing stalactites and stalagmites formed over millions of years, and all dramatically lit - mind blowing stuff. Must’ve been amazing on acid.

Best of all, once I’d gotten through it all, I was rewarded by a little stall selling coffee on the side of the hill!

Caffined up we were back on the boat and then back on the bus back to Hue. When I think of how fab Hoi An was and how helpful and comfy the hotel there was, it seemed sad that we were spending two nights in what was the worst hotel I’ve stayed in here in Vietnam. They actually had the audacity to pull the ‘you didn’t hand your key in, we’ll have to charge you for another’ scam when I got back that night. As you can imagine, after eight hours on a bus and the terrors of the cave, I was in no mood for bullshit. Luckily Tom was there and so I told him I wasn’t gonna fall for that, and that if they had lost my key then I wanted the police there to come and help me search my room to make sure nobody on the staff had stolen anything. Amazing how folks back down when you call their bluff!

Of course me being the drama queen I am, I got it into my head that someone might break into the room while I was asleep, so I piled up all my furniture against the door! Needless to say, nobody tried to break in.

The next morning we were off again to visit the mausoleum of Tu Duc Emperor. Bizarrely the ‘mericans turned up. Last I’d heard they got a refund and were ‘doing their own thing’ guess that didn’t work out. It was all very uncomfortable with Beavis’n’Butthead making really snide, racist comments about the two tour guides - bearing in mind his fiance is Vietnamese - I was ashamed to be in their company. Luckily Tom and I shook them off at the tomb, and for the first time he was really honest with me.

All the time I’ve been here, all I hear is how the war with the US was a long time ago, and the Vietnamese people bear no grudges, yada yada yada (the exception up to this point had been the Cu Chi Tunnels guide and her constant references to the Evil Americans). Anyway, after these assholes had tried to get Tom the sack for no reason at all, he wasn’t in the mood to make nice. He frankly admitted he disliked Americans and I totally understood why. History is one thing but apparently there’s a fair amount of Beavis’n’Buthead’s still coming today acting like they won the war and treating the Vietnamese like shit.

Of course it’s not all Americans, but obviously there’s enough of them still acting like cunts when they really should know better.

Tour of Duty... Part Two

Another day, another flight. This one was slightly later so I got to sleep in till 7am. And I did! After breakfast and packing away all my lovely clean clothes I was collected and taken to catch my flight to Da Nang.

Vietnamese Airlines are pretty prompt at take-off and landings, but they sure do leave boarding till the last possible minute. Thank god there’s allocated seats, or it’d be mayhem! It’s fairly no frills, you get a moist towelette and a small bottle of water, but that’s cool I guess.

I was collected at Da Nang airport and ferried to another hotel. Writing this 14 days later I can’t for the life of me recall anything about the hotel, so I guess it must’ve been ok. If it’d been really crap or really brilliant I’d have remembered.

I met my new guide, a cool young guy called Tom (something tells me he’d anglicised it for the sake of us lazy foreigners) and the rest of my group. There was a mother and son from the US and so Tom was our ‘English speaking guide’. The rest of the group including USA boy’s girlfriend were Vietnamese so they got their own guide.

First stop on the trip was to Monkey Mountain. After yesterday’s visit to Monkey Island, I was a bit apprehensive, but needn’t have been as there wasn’t one single bloody monkey! I asked why it was called that when there weren’t any and Tom said ‘blame the French’. I have to say, I am kind of enjoying being in a place where everybody blames either the French or the Americans, it’s one of the few places on earth we Brits haven’t fucked up!

After (No)Monkey Mountain aka the Son Tra Peninsula we drove to China Beach - known here as My Khe - sadly by this time it was dark so no chance to hang out too much. It’s meant to be one of the loveliest beaches on earth but in the dark it was just sand to be honest. We were piled back onto the coach and driven off for dinner. I was put with the Americans and the journalist (or nosey bugger) in be got the whole story. Turns out USA boy met his now fiance online six months ago in a “language exchange” forum. Now call me a cynical old witch but looking at this guy - and at his fiance - I find it hard to believe he was in there learning Vietnamese, he could barely speak English! Whatever the circumstances, this gorgeous young woman decided that this Beavis ‘n’ Butthead lookeylikey was the man of her dreams and six months on from their first online chat she was sporting decent sized diamonds in her ears, on her wrist and on the third finger of her left hand. B&B couldn’t take his eyes off her like he couldn’t believe how lucky he was, and rightly so, if she already had a green card I doubt she’d be with him.

Now I know this sounds really harsh but as my four days in their company unfolded I can honestly say that he really embodied the worst aspects of the US. He was rude, racist and just generally a cunt.

His poor mother seemed kind of bewildered by everything, she wasn’t in great shape physically and the fiance was incredibly caring and attentive to her, far moreso than the son. Of course I am filling in the gaps but the other two brothers and the Dad didn’t fly over for the huge engagement party so perhaps they are less ‘rose-tinted’ than mom about this ‘love match’. I guess when you give birth to a kid and raise ‘em for 25 years you gotta love em no matter what.

Anyway after we’d eaten we were taken to a traditional show, which lasted a mere 50 minutes. It was a bit like watching Damon Albarn’s Monkey but without the acrobats or Damon.
The next day we were off in the bus early. Off to Hoi An, via Marble Mountain - which wasn’t made of bloody marbles either. Resisting any desire at all to buy a huge chunk of marble, I found a coffee stall and waited for the other’s to realise they didn’t want any either. After a stop for lunch we rode into Hoi An.

What a cracking place! I totally loved it. Very obviously geared to backpackers as well as us older ‘flashpackers’ there were gazillions of tailor shops, handmade shoe shops, and little cafes and restaurants selling such essentials as pancakes with ice cream. I had time for a quick swim in the pool before we went off on a walking tour around the old town. This is a UNESCO World Heritage site and just amazing really. The whole place has a really cool vibe and it’s somewhere I’d like to spend more time in one day. Sadly on this tour we only had the one night.

Next up was Hue (pronounced Hooo-way - check me!), the original old capital of the country. Smack dab in the centre of the country and with tons of history. Tom took us to the Imperial Citadel the grand palace of all the kings of Vietnam. I found it pretty fascinating stuff.
the view from a dragon boat on the Perfume River, Hue
Beavis’n’Butthead and his mom were acting up a bit and the fiance got in on the act. I should explain that while we were on the bus, us non-Vietnamese sat at the back with Tom and he would fill us in on where we were going and what we’d be doing when we got there. Any questions I asked were answered fully, but the ‘mericans asked no questions.

While we were having our thing at the back of the bus, Suan the Vietnamese guide was on the mic and yes the bitch could talk, in fact she never shut up the entire time we were in the bus. She was like a drunk divorcee at a Karaoke night.

Now I found it slightly annoying, but I put my iPod on and blocked her out. The ‘mericans had iPods too but instead of using them they chose to bitch about her to Tom constantly. Now the fiance, wanting to impress her future mother in law decided to get busy. Bearing in mind that there were four of us and about 20 Vietnamese people, and the fact that to say one word in English takes about four words of Vietnamese (according to Tom), Suan was doing what she was paid to. The fiance rang Tom’s boss and complained about him! Apparently it was his fault that Suan talked so much! I was mortified at her behaviour and so was poor old Tom. Shit like this could get him fired. Plus it wasn’t like he’d done anything wrong.

The next day there was an eight hour round trip to the Phong Nha Cave and while I wasn’t overly thrilled about listening to Suan yakking - and let me be clear, it wasn’t that she was yakking in another language, if she’d been speaking English it would’ve pissed me off just as much - I was happy to see that the ‘mericans and the fiance weren’t on the bus either.

I grabbed the back row and using my jumper as a pillow and my sarong as a blanket, slept the whole way there. Perfect!