After 27 days in Viet Nam I still have yet to buy my brother Trent's single gift request-a bottle of Chinese snake wine. The wine is used-sparingly so it won't kill you-as a cure all for sore muscles, headaches, fatigue, etc. On our last day in HCMC we make plans with our hosts to visit the market in the afternoon/evening to buy fruit and snacks to take on our trip up the Mekong. After the market we head to dinner with plans to buy the wine after we eat. All quiet on the Western front.
While we eat all hell breaks loose outside-or at least the heavens opened and the lord flushed a mighty one on us 'cause it started pissing. We tried to wait it out but after an hour the rain showed no signs of stopping. There was no way we could ride our scooters to the snake wine shop. Our hosts arranged a taxi to take us from the restaurant back home (2 of our hosts employees came to ride the scooters home-in the rain).
We wait and wait and the rain keeps coming. We eat durian and drink beer and still it rains. Finally as it is getting late we decide we better go before the shop closes (it is about 2000). The rain has let up-a little-and so Mo hops on the scooter behind our friend Vien and drapes the tail of her rain slicker over Mo's head, and they are off. I do the same on a scooter with our hosts son who knows where the shop is. The weirdest motor scooter ride ever! I can't see anything but wet pavement and it is a dizzy nauseating ride. I can hear horn beeps and splashes. Immediately I start thinking this is some kind of crazy initiation ritual or something. You know like whack ass fraternity bull sh!t-where they blindfold you and drive around the city to confuse you and then they dump you out in the ghetto or some mean streets with a map, a condom, and 30000 Dhong and say 'good luck'. Out of habbit or perhaps to relax my nerves-I memorize each turn and count intersections as they fly by on the wet pavement. Suddenly Johnny stops and calls his mom. No answer. We turn around and head back in the direction we came. I am finally confident Johnny is not planning to test my HCMC map skills as some crazy Viet Nam initiation, but the ride is still nauseating. I can't see a damned thing ducked up under the rain slicker and every swerve makes me think someone is going to clip us and we will spill or a cab is going to smack us and I won't even see it coming. Finally we slow to a stop and without lifting the slicker I know where we are-at home. Johnny calls his mom, she answers and he gets directions. Back on the scooter in the rain, this time without the slicker at my demand-there was no way in hell I was going to crawl my butt back under there and ride around-I would rather get wet. To make a long story short (too late already-I know) we get the wine and a lot bit wet. So brother, when you get this snake wine I hope you appreciate the living hell-and risks to my life-I went through to get it!!!!
Skinny Elvis and Fat Buddha rule. Fat Elvis and skinny Buddha suck. If the US postal service makes stamps, they should use skinny Elvis and fat Buddha, period. Skinny Elvis was handsom and could dance and sing like the King. Fat Elvis was a bloated, gluttenous, sleezy, pill-popping, shooting star in a bead-dazzled costume forgetting the words to his own songs riding the snake in Las Vegas (RIDE he SNAKE!).
Fat Buddha, on the other hand, was at ease with his enlightenment and his self image. His big belly and benevolent smile showed it. Drunk with knowledge. Satiated with serenity the fat Buddha ate life up-almost literally. Skinny Buddha just got out from under the Bodai tree. He looks emaciated and uneasy about his recent enlightenment. He looks like he needs a bowl of rice and a shower if you know what I mean. I mean the journey to enlightenment has drained him and he hasn't had time to reach the joy the fat Buddha displays. For me it has got to be skinny Elvis and fat Buddha and no other way.
Slowly MoWenck got well in Bangkok. We spent 4 more days in the concrete jungle of Bangkok. After nursing ourselves back into good health we went to see a movie-Harry Potter 3 (why not Shrek 2, I'll never know)-and tried to locate a restaurant-in vain until after we settled and ate elsewheres-recommended to us by a couple from Singapore we met in Hoi An, Vietnam. Anywho, we got our Laos visas and made reservations to take the train-2nd class sleeper-North to Chiang Mai, Thailand.
We took the night train (Baby!) departing Bangkok sometime around 2200 (closer to 2300). The sleeper car was packed with westerners all headed to the Thai cultural center of Chiang Mai and the Republic of Laos beyond. The train was no great shakes, unless of course great shakes-literally-are what you were looking for. I could swear the wheel below my sleeper on our car blew a bearing or was broken 'cause the car rattled and shook like a 7.0 on the richter scale. Needless to say it was not a good night of rest. The train finally made it to Chiang Mai at about 1300 or 2 hours late. Mo and I stumbled off the train into a station ripe for the tout pickings. A rush of touts approached us all offering a ride to "the best guesthouse in Chiang Mai". While Mo made phone calls-no small feet on the public phones of the Chiang Mai train station-I beat back the touts with the clear reasoning-at least I thought- that not every guesthouse could be "the best guesthouse in Chiang Mai". Eventually, we settled to pay 40 Baht for a ride to the old city to look for accomodation.
Chiang Mai is a beautiful city, with an old city center surrounded by a moat and walls, the works. Of course it is a typical Thai city in that there is no such thing as city planning. The streets bend and turn every direction-oft changing names for no apparent reason-and all streets are connected by tiny lanes (soi in Thai) numbered and named after the main streets. Mo and I struggled around town trying to locate guesthouses we had information on before we settled into a place for 200 Baht ($5)/night. The place was clean-enough-and had hot water and private bath.
The next day we spent wondering around the glorious city looking for better and/or cheaper accomodation. In the process we signed up for a 1-day cooking class, Mo a 5-day Thai massage class, Wenck a 3-day massage class (with Mo), and made some purchases at the night markets (clothes and gifts). It was a good day, Lakers lost to the Pistons and I didn't use my A.K. Anyhow, we also found better-not cheaper-accomodation about 50 meters from our massage class and about 300 meters from our cooking class. A busy day, 'nuff said.
The next day we took the Thai cooking class from 0930 to 1600. It was brilliant! I learned some new tricks and I am confident I can find the proper ingrediants (Hello Berkeley Bowl!) back in the East Bay to replicate the good tastes. The best part was the eating, 7 dishes! All day we cooked and ate, cooked and ate which was just grand for Mo and I. The next day we started our Thai traditional massage class with our teacher Aree. Lets just say Thai massage is intense-and not just for the person receiving the massage. You use your whole body (hands, arms, elbows, shoulders, and legs) to provide a massage that is nothing short of passive yoga for your patient. It is a workout for the person massaging. There is so much to learn and the technique is only part of it-of course it is the part that makes it feel good and so the most important. My three days were very insightful and I can provide a full basic massage. The only drawback is it takes me about 2-2.5 hours to complete a 1-1.5 hour massage program. LOL! Mo is learning (she is in class as I type) the herbal compress and a 'special' face massage in her extra 2 days. Mo should be applauded for her practice of Thai massage. I was her patient and as you may or may not know, Thai massage involves a lot of contact with the patients feet. If you have seen my feet, you know why Mo deserves a hand, it disgusts me to think about it! Before anyone back home gets excited thinking Mo or Wenck are gonna provide them with a Thai massage consider this: we need to practice-a lot, I mean, I could screw up and seriously hurt you; Thai massage isn't exactly a relaxing superficial BS massage-it is passive yoga as I have said; finally, you are going to have to pay me-I'm sure we can come to a mutually benificial fee, the class wasn't free and my practice time is also not free.
Yesterday I ventured out of the city (while Mo was in class) up the hill to Wat Doi Suthep an excellent Wat located in the hills above Chiang Mai. There is a huge chedi (pictures coming after Laos) all decked out in gold and plenty of Buddhas and bells and things to make it look good. There was also a spectacular view of Chiang Mai. The whole trip was well worth the nausiating ride up a winding mountain road in the back of a truck (40 Baht up, 30 Baht back down). Today I am kicking around town-I need to pick up some used books, arrange travel to Chiang Khong and the Laos boarder, and check out some more of the city sites. Tonight, Saturday the something of June, we plan to check out a local rock star named Toots who plays Hendrix and other classic rock for Westerners and Thais kicks alike. Tomorrow, it is off to Laos, the laid back-rumor has it the place is horizontal- land of slow internet access, happy pizzas that supposedly give you the munchies before you can finish them, and beautiful jungle mountains, rivers and waterfalls. Hope all is well back stateside, you will hear from us again soon enough.
Long distance runner, what you standing there for?
You hear horror stories about long distance bus rides in Cambodia-Korean buses cirqa 1950 without air con. crammed with foul people and their fowl or swine, smoking while the bus crawls along at 25 K/h over pot-holes (craters actually, that can only be found elsewhere on the moon!) and out into rice paddies when the road has washed away. Well, the bus from Phnom Penh to Siam Reap was nothing like that. If you are looking for a story like that, skip to the end. Our coach from Phnom Penh was air con with about 30 seats. There was a flipping steward who served beverages and food! It only took 6 hours with a stop and the road was solid the whole way. Progress. I thought to myself, 'this is the way to run a country.' I mean, the grey dog (Greyhound) could learn a thing from these people.
Of course upon arrival in Siam Reap we were greeted with the usual SEAsian mob of touts and tuk-tuk drivers begging us to come with them to the 'best guest house in Siam Reap'. I told Mo to only speak chinese and I made use of my limited spanish. Of course, one of the touts (turned out he owned the Guesthouse) spoke chinese and Mo was trapped. The Guesthouse turned out to be decent-the rooftop bar had $0.50 happy hour (1700-?) drafts and live EuroCup!-and the price was right $4/night, so we took a room. Little did we know it was on the 'noisy' side of the place (next to a Karayoke restaurant open nightly til 0100). We decided to forego the 'free' afternoon sunset at the ruins-free with purchase of next day ticket = $20/person-for sunset at the roof top bar watching a spontaneous Cambodian football game in a cow pasture behind the guesthouse instead. Of course we made arrangements to go to the ruins for the next three days starting at 0500 the next day.
One of the big things to do at the ruins of Angkor is to catch a sunrise and a sunset. To catch the sunrise, one must wake up and be on your way by 0500. Well, after a few drafts at the bar Mo set the alarm for 1600 not 0400 and we didn't wake up until 0515. The only person who seemed annoyed at this was our tuk-tuk driver, oh well. You see, it is the rainy season right now and the sunrise (and sunset) consists of a general lightning of the the clouded sky, nothing spectacular-the sunset is usually followed by a heavy down pour, not good when you are at the ruins. Anyway, we got on the road around 0600. The first day we decided to do the Grand Tour only in reverse order to avoid the crowds. It turned out to be a brilliant plan as we were able to-for the most part-avoid the crowds and see several ruins by ourselves. There is no artist (living or dead) literary, photographer, or painter who can capture that feeling one gets when one first steps into a temple (wat) at Angkor. I won't even bother, suffice to say, go there soon. We had a busy day exploring all the usual suspects: Angkor Wat, The Bayon, Terrace of the Elephants, Ta Som, Pre Rup, the Eastern Mebon, etc (buy a book damn it!). It was amazing and tiring. The thing the pictures definitely do not show is how many steps there are and what angle the steps are cut at. Yikes! Anyway, we stayed until sunset (that never came because of the clouds) and got caught in the rain on the ride home. We made plans for the next day.
The next morning Mo woke up with a fever. We decided to sleep on it for a few hours and see how she was feeling. By 1000 it was apparent, Mo was down and out. Head cold/fever. While Mo slept, I went for a bike ride to some ruins but nothing major. By the evening Mo was doing better and we arranged to go the next day to complete our temple viewing. We had bought a 3-day pass and you have to go on consecutive days. The next morning Mo was still a little under the weather but she took one for the team and we were able to see the last few ruins we were interested in. Of course, this zapped Mo's energy and the next day-the day we were supposed to leave for Bangkok-Mo was wiped out again. Stranded in Siam Reap, the rains came and it was a gloomy day spent resting treating Mo's cold. Finally, the next day Mo felt well enough to take the 10-12 hour ride to Bangkok, it was my turn to suffer the cruel fate of travel ills.
While the bus ride from Phnom Penh to Siam Reap was perhaps the best bus experience I have had in SEAsia, the ride from Siam Reap back to Bangkok, Thailand was definitely the worst. I will try not to be too graphic. First of all, the coach was something the Vietnamese had abandoned and the Cambodians snatched up. The bus seats were cramped and while there were no chickens riding shot gun (that dubious honor went to some poor American bloke-he had to sit there and watch (and feel) the road roll by like it was on a giant big screen TV) the bus had more passengers than seats. Well, not really, you see there was no storage compartment for luggage and as this was a bus for backpackers, every passenger had a giant pack-all of which ended up piled to the roof in the back couple of rows of seats and in the isles. I'm sure this was perfectly up to code with Cambodian transportation safety standards. Then there was the matter of the road. The road from Phnom Penh was mostly paved and had mostly new bridges. The road to the boarder from Siam Reap was paved until the edge of town and then a riddled mess the rest of the way to the boarder. The road is only graded once a year and that was 11 months ago! The previous days rain had flooded certain parts of the road into giant lakes and how the driver managed to make it through, I will never know. The bridges-some wood, some steel-were from 1950 and freaked me out. All that is good and fine. I can deal with that. It was the pit stop we made where I ordered fried rice (vegetarian! Vegetarian Fried Rice! Damn it!) that was laced with cholera, salmonila, the weebeegeebee's, and who knows what else-that I lost it. By the time we got to the boarder, the poop train was leaving the station! Express train whoo! whoo! It took a few hours to sort out the boarder crossing, all the while my stomach is turning. We finally got on our Thailand bus, a big comfortable beauty with a toilet I refused to visit (Mo informed me that she had to duck to get inside). After a few hours I've got a fever and the poop train conductor is hollarin' "ALL ABOARD!" I'm getting chills and breaking into a sweat. At the boarder we spoke with the driver of the Thai bus about being dropped off near the Sukumvit-where our guesthouse and a clean toilet are located-but the bus is headed to the backpacker part of town-the Kho San-on the other side of Bangkok. The driver agreed to let us off somewhere near the Sukumvit but failed to tell us it would mean running across an expressway to some frontage road and praying for a taxi to come along. We refused to get off the bus and continued on into the heart of Bangkok. It starts to rain as we crawl through rush hour traffic of Bangkok. Finally the bus dumps us out. Shaking and delerious-all the while Mo still has a bad cough from her cold and is not 100%-I grab our bags and we look for a taxi. The rain is coming on strong. The poop train whistle is blowing and the schedule says departure is NOW! We catch a cab but it is an agonizing 1 hour ride back across the city to our guesthouse. I didn't think I would make it, I'm not sure I did. But here I am, writing it down for you all to read-you probably wish I hadn't-but i did. And that is my Cambodian bus horror story, not too bad really.
Well, I spent a full day recovering from my food poisoning and then we have been tooling around Bangkok-restocking our medical kit, making travel arrangements, went to see a movie (Harry Potter 3, oh why couldn't it have been Shrek 2?), etc. Tonight we are off to Chiang Mai (Northern Thailand) and beyond. And beyond = Laos for 15 days. See you all on the flip-flop.
If mercy's a business, I wish it for you!
We left HCMC with heavy hearts as our stay was so pleasant with Joanne's sister's family. However, we headed out into the great unknown of the mighty Mekong River delta. "The old miss. The old man. The Mekong. Deep river, my home is over Jordan." To get to the river we took a 2 hour boat ride to Cai Be where we climbed into a boat that would carry uis on the upper and lower Mekong. It is an amazing river and the Vietnamese lifestyle in the delta revolves around the river. We cruised through her many tributaries past Vietnamese living out their days on the river-floating markets, fishing, and yes-bathing. The tour we were on stopped several times to check out a rice milling factory and a rice cake factory and a floating market and it was generally good fun. The kids on the delta are the best. It seems their only job is to swim in the river all day long and wave to foreigners as they float by on their tours. Of course the kids do this with flare- jumping into the water flailing their arms and legs yelling 'hello!'. We spent the first night in Can Tho. After dinner-despite our tour guide informing me that there was no bia hoi, Mo and I, accompanied by a pair of Dutch girls (they worked for the Dutch representing the EMEA-how 'bout that Chiron folks?) and an Austrian bloke set off to find bia hoi. We were-of course-successful and enjoyed the local fresh beer.
The next morning we were up early to visit the largest floating market on the Mekong. On the way there it started to piss* and our tour guide decided it would be best to go visit a rice noodle factory and wait for the rain to subside. At this point the Austrian begins to complain-he is on a 2-day tour and is supposed to take a small canoe trip around the market- that he wants his money back. We go to the rice noodle factory and return to the boat. It is still pissing when we get back to the market but the Austrian really wants his canoe boat (it is open to the elements). So our guide-a bit pissed himself-arranges it. So all 7 of the people on the 2-day tour pile into a canoe and go off. Man, I felt sorry for the other 6 people getting soaked and for our tour guide who was beside himself. While we are sitting there the rain lets up and I am able to get a few photos but the others come back soaked.
*Note*: In my travels I have been fortunate enough to meet many British people. As a result, I find my English vocabulary changes. The verb 'piss' is a perfect example. Of course there are the regular American definitions for piss: 1) to show anger 'he got really pissed last night.' 2) to excrete urine: 'she went to the W.C. to take a piss.' Of course the Redcoats give us: 1) to rain hard 'it is really pissing' 2) to get intoxicated 'he got really pissed last night'. Anyway, I love my expanding vocabulary. One day I might recognize a North Londoner accent over a West Londoner but I doubt it.
In the afternoon the tour group splits up, the 2-dayers go back to Saigon, the 3-dayers keep going joined by some others. We get on a bigger boat headed up the Mekong for 4 hours. The ride starts out pleasant enough and I join an Irish bloke-Derek, and our tour guide for a beer on the back deck. One beer leads to another and 3 hours pass as we discuss our travel experiences etc. Suddenly I look up towards the bow of the boat and there on the horizan is a mean black storm brewing. The whole sky is dark, the perfect storm. The captain makes a break for it-we are about 30 minutes from Choc Dau. The storm is big, lightning and thunder and we are headed straight for it. They secure the open air windows with blue tarps and it starts to rain. Gentle at first, then comes the wind and again it is pissing. I mean really pissing. The boat is being tossed around like a rag doll and the captain has zero visability. In the mean time-Derek and I along with the first mate and a few others-are fighting the tarps trying to hold them in place. The storm is winning, everyone is saoked-bags and all. There is a brief argument-in Vietnamese-between the captain and the tour guide. The tour guide wants to keep going, the captain knows we are doomed if we don't stop. Finally the captain makes the tour guide take a look at his visability and they are both surprised to find the boat 2 feet from a sugar cane field. That's it, the captain points the boat for a safe spot to drop anchor and we wait out the storm. It is dark, everyone is wet, there is only one functioning lighter so the smokers are monkey humping smokes to stay calm. Derek is walking around offering peeps his flippers and laughing. Good times I tell you. Finally the storm lets up and we break for Choc Dau. We make it to port safely but then there is a 10 minute cyclo ride-in the rain-waiting for us. We all hop on, by this time there is nothing you can do but embrace the wet-'at least it is 28 C' I say. 'Tis true if you have ever frozen your arse off in the Sierra Nevadas waiting for a storm to blow through (August & Marlowe?).
The next day our tour guide leaves us and we get a new one. She isn't as good but she takes us to a floating fish farm and a village and on another boat up the Mekong to the boarder of Cambodia. The guide helps us across the boarder and onto another boat, a Cambodian boat, with a Cambodian guide-and the trip gets intersting. We tour up the Mekong for another 2 hours on this beat down boat with a tour guide who offers nothing (but he won't be the worst tour guide of the day). Finally we pull in to catch a bus to Phnom Penh. We all get off the boat-happily-and wait for our bus. It becomes quickly apparent that our new tour guide is not only drunk-but hopped up on goo balls. Great. The bus is overloaded and Mo is the unfortunate soul who lands in the front seat with the drunk and wired tour guide. The guide wheels around and starts teaching-really yelling Cambodian phrases-the group Cambodian. The guide is laoded, the smell makes our eyes water, and he is repeating himself endlessly. Occasianally, he sticks his head out the window to yell at girls on motor scooters and bikes. Oh, and the bus ride, lets just say it was a bit rough. My head was hitting the ceiling. Roads in Cambodia rival the road down Davis Creek for bumps and well, they aren't really roads. We travel like this-with the raging drunk tour guide and down the bumpy road-for almost 2 hours. Of course when we get to Phnom Penh, they take us to the wrong hotel. We have to catch a tuktuk with the Irish couple out to the intended hotel. Finally we find a great guesthouse (Lakeside #9 the 'sister' Guesthouse) and grab beers and food and chill out to some billiards. Welcome to Phnom Pehn!
Cambodia is a beautiful country but the infrastructure is lacking. Mo and I spent the last two days in Kampot-an impoversed city in the south-visiting the land of the turning cloud and Boker Hill Station. It was beautiful and enjoyable but getting there was painful to say the least. Crammed in a minivan with 19 other people (driver not included!) for $2. Needless to say, we took a share taxi back for $4. Tomorrow we are off to Siam Reap and the ruins at Angkor. Pictures will be forthcoming upon our return to Thailand and Bangkok on 13Jun04. Until then I hope everyone is well, take care and god bless.