Shop till you drop in Hoi An!!!

From Saigon we boarded our first train in weeks and crawled up Vietnam's spectacular coastline to the seaside town of Quy Nhon. It was bliss, hardly any other tourists. In the evenings the sea front has a carnival feel to it. Football games are taking place all along the beach and families are tucking into barbecue snacks, fruit on sticks and ice cream bought from street vendors. We hired bikes and explored some of the local Cham architecture and followed the coastal road to visit a Leper Hospital. The real highlight (apart from the lack of other Westerners) was the food. We stuffed our faces full of delicious shrimp and crab in an excellent seafood restaurant called 2000, and had the tastiest and cheapest bowl of beef noodle soup (Pho bo). Street vendors and cafes often specialise in serving just one dish. From our hotel balcony I had spent a good hour watching the streams of hungry and happy customers who had visited the Pho cafe across the street. It was so simple. A lady sat at the entrance guarding a cauldron sized pan of steaming broth, which she delicately ladled into a bowl with noodles, beef, mint, coriander and other herbs. There was just such a great atmosphere about the place. There may have only been one thing on the menu but everyone who came there knew it was guaranteed to taste good. And it did. I had finished mine before Kathy was even halfway through her bowl - slurping my way to noodle nirvana in true Vietnamese fashion. Pho is something more than just a food in Vietnam, it is part of the way of life. The Vietnamese eat it at any time of the day, for breakfast, for dinner or just as a snack. We tried hard to think of the nearest equivalent in Britain, a ubiquitous snack for any time of the day, and the nearest we came to was the sandwich. Some of you may choose to opt for the 'pie' or the packet of crisps.
Another train ride took us to the ancient town of Hoi An, famous for its hundreds of tailors and shoemakers. In Hoi An, they will literally copy and make any piece of clothing or shoe. For a teuchter lad like mysel the idea of tailoring is an alien concept. I'm happiest clothes shopping when the first thing I try on fits and I can devote the rest of my day to Fopp. Kathy was having none of it. In the absence of any understanding and sympathetic female company, I was going to learn the rudiments of 'shop till you drop' theory even if it killed me.


Rule no1. Don't buy the first thing you see
Rule no. 2 Visit lots of shops before making your mind up
Rule no. 3 The fun is in the looking not just the buying
Rule no. 4 If you don't drop, then you haven't shopped

There were lots of other rules but by the time we started shopping I had forgotten what they were. There is something very luxurious and flattering about having someone spending lots of time helping you choose a suit fabric and lining. Now, I don't often wear a suit but I found myself suddenly contemplating buying two of them. "When will you wear it?" Kathy quizzed. "Certainly not to school to get covered in glue and paint!" I'm going to wear it whenever I feel like. I'll be a mod like in Quadrophenia and buy a scooter to complete the look. I'll board the 5.15 train and move to Brighton and listen only to the Small Faces and Northern Soul. "I'll maybe wear it for weddings," is what I actually said. "But you have your kilt!!" True. By the end of the day I had purchased 2 suits, 3 shirts, 2 pair of linen trousers and 1 pair of linen shorts - all tailor made. Kathy had purchased 3 dresses, 2 skirts, 2 shirts, 2 tops, 1 pairs of shorts, 2 pair of trousers, one pair of knee length boots and a personally designed pair of light blue trainers with a gecko motif on the side. All custom made.
At the end of the day we both dropped, completely exhausted. It was then that I remembered rule no. 5. Don't go crazy mad mental on the first day - you can always come back tomorrow.
Oh dear... Marks and Spencers will never be the same again.

HOT TOC - Vietnam!

Ha Tien, Vietnam. A new country and a new culture. Time to ditch the fruit shakes and start drinking some seriously strong iced Vietnamese coffee. Just what we needed after all that lazing about on beaches. And if you ask for milk then they pour in lots of sickly, thick condensed milk (on top of all the sugar they have already spooned into the glass!). Zing, zap, wham, bam, edgee, readee, go, go GOOOOOOOO.
It was also time for a haircut. 'Hot toc!' Sadly, my haircut was over in a matter of seconds. I have long had a fear of barbers, nearly as bad as my fear of celery. They never listen to my pleas for a 'little' length on top and end up shaving my nut to the brink of a crew cut. I remember in my teens, when I was leaving the difficult and embarrassing 'slick back' days (ask my brothers for the sordid details of gel and brittle hair) and undergoing the transition into longer haired grunge/indie kid. Mum dragged us off to her hairdresser, insisting that it needed to be cut short before it could grow long again. I left the 'stylists' with nothing short of a Chuckle Brothers mullet.
Kathy, on the other hand, was treated like royalty the minute she stepped into her chosen beauty salon. They shampooed and massaged her scalp for hours, cut and styled it to perfection, gave her a face scrub and more massaging and, after more than 40 minutes of pampering and luxury, had the cheek to demand the extortionate sum of 60,000 Dong! Sounds a lot doesn't it? It is but a mere 2 pounds of our Earth pence. She looked sensational too.

After Ha Tien, we moved on to Saigon / Ho Chi Minh City. As soon as we got off the bus we were herded onto a moto and whisked off to our guesthouse through the dizzying and elegant chaos of Saigon's traffic. Motos, cars, pedestrians, bikes, carts and buses converge at all angles and from all directions. I was scared. Later on we had to cross this madness on foot. The book tells you to walk slowly and look directly into the eyes of the oncoming traffic, as if to render them spellbound with your hyptonic gaze. And, what do you know, it works too. No wonder the coffee is so strong.
We spent our time in Saigon touring the historical sites and absorbing some of its lively and neon lit atmosphere. On our last day we headed for some aquatic madness at one of Saigon's water parks. Amazing fun! But we were clearly the oldest people by at least 10 years who were throwing themselves down the various 'typhoon', 'deathslide' and 'flying saucer' water slide attractions. Kathy wished Keir could have been here to enjoy the fun. Our favourite was a slide called 'Black Thunder.' You both jump on board a giant tandem inflatable and then zoom into a dark tunnel with strobe lighting sparking off around you as you hurtle your way to the bottom. We went down that slide at least 6 times. Oh, yes!!!
I have to admit that my age was showing itself a little. A couple of the slides did give me 'the fear' and a healthy dose of the eeby jeebies. The slides were also clearly designed for the weight and proportion of the average Vietnamese and not for the average pie scoffing Scot like myself. On one particularly direct and fast slide, I came down so speedily and with such force that at the bottom I skimmed over the water and nearly cleared the plunge pool on exit. The Vietnamese were impressed. I needed another iced coffee.

Old habits...

We've now been on the road for over 3 months. This is a list of some of the things we've not done since we left Scotland... (in no particular order)

taste Marmite, eat good cheese - especially a nice strong cheddar,
eat macaroni cheese, use a mobile phone,
watch ITV, play the violin,
buy cheap CDs from Fopp(Athole), get a haircut,
cook all our own meals for even one day, drive on the left hand side of the road,
NOT GO TO WORK!
spend hours slowy eating a whole packet of Tunnock's teacakes, eat salt n' vinegar crisps,
go to Gregg's for a steak bake (Athole only!), nice leg of roast lamb (roll on New Zealand),
scoff a big bowl of roast tatties, mark a pile of school jotters,
not needed a visa to go everywhere, baked a cake(Kathy!),
fed Pesto the cat, fed Keir!!!!
gossip for hours at Book Club (Kathy), use a staple gun and laminating machine (Athole!),
read a British newspaper, use a 3 point plug,
eat Weetabix, wear a pair of jeans,
drive a car, visit Tescos...

One month overdue...

Life seems to change very quickly on the road. Here are some of things we have not done for over a month now...

wear socks, wear a jumper,
wear our (very heavy) hiing boots, visit a cinema not showing knock-off DVDs,
fly in a plane (China), drink fresh milk,
travel on a train, spot any birch trees (Russia),
see any snow, eat a Kipling's apple pie (Athole only!),
sleep in a room that doesn't have either a fan or mosquito net, eat real homemade jam (Russia),
eat frogs (Laos), seen a Marks and Spencers shop (Russia),
seen a MacDonalds - true! (China), watched wild horses (Mongolia),
met another Scot, seen the lovely Swedish girls (China),
played the game of 'Serious Pirates' (Moscow), worn thermal underwear (Russia).

Beach bums

So we continue to the south coast, in search of sun, sand and seafood. What we get, in Sihanoukville, is 2 days of rain and another dose of travellers tummy for Athole after some less-than-fresh prawns. We play Scrabble in the guesthouse overlooking the beach - it's like being on holiday on the west coast of Scotland! Eventually we decide to have a proper Scottish holiday and head out into the rain regardless. We go to the beach, build a sandcastle, play in the waves....yes, all in the rain. Locals think we're a bit odd - "Don't worry, for us this is normal!"

One of the best things about the rain, however, is that, to fill up the time, we go to visit the old Independence Hotel, once the top destination for rich Cambodians before the Khmer Rouge era, which has recently been refurbished. We stroll around reception, have a look at the bar, restaurant and (inevitably) the toilets. It's totally dead but very plush and splendid. We see one guest. Then one of the staff points us in the direction of the beach. We go to have a look. It turns out to be a pristine stretch of sand, with showers, reclining chairs and nobody on it. (Well, it is still raining.) Staff offer us towels and show us to a pair of sun loungers. Clearly they assume we are guests - we don't feel any need to disabuse them (after all, there's no-one else there) and off we go into the water. We did have lunch there afterwards (we were the only diners).

We take a taxi to the next town along the coast - Kampot. This means 2 hours rammed into the back of a Toyota with 2 adults and 2 children, plus us and bags. There are another 3 adults in the front. It's a bit sweaty, but Kampot, when we get there, is lovely and we visit a pepper farm.

Further round the coast at Kep we find an island with beach huts and the most amazing seafood - the loveliest Cambodian lady we have met serves us lunch, dinner, bed and breakfast for US$30. There's some confusion about when our boat is supposed to come and pick us up, and for a while we wonder if we will be marooned, (not such a bad thing until the dollars run out and we have to start fishing or cleaning toilets) but then we are back on the mainland and eacting Italian quality ice-cream at a restaurant overlooking the coast. We love Cambodia - tomorrow Vietnam!

So now we are about to climb into another taxi - we've paid more so as to be able to breathe in this one though - and cross another border.

So we continue to the south coast, in search of sun, sand and seafood. What we get, in Sihanoukville, is 2 days of rain and another dose of travellers tummy for Athole after some less-than-fresh prawns. We play Scrabble in the guesthouse overlooking the beach - it's like being on holiday on the west coast of Scotland! Eventually we decide to have a proper Scottish holiday and head out into the rain regardless. We go to the beach, build a sandcastle, play in the waves....yes, all in the rain. Locals think we're a bit odd - "Don't worry, for us this is normal!"

One of the best things about the rain, however, is that, to fill up the time, we go to visit the old Independence Hotel, once the top destination for rich Cambodians before the Khmer Rouge era, which has recently been refurbished. We stroll around reception, have a look at the bar, restaurant and (inevitably) the toilets. It's totally dead but very plush and splendid. We see one guest. Then one of the staff points us in the direction of the beach. We go to have a look. It turns out to be a pristine stretch of sand, with showers, reclining chairs and nobody on it. (Well, it is still raining.) Staff offer us towels and show us to a pair of sun loungers. Clearly they assume we are guests - we don't feel any need to disabuse them (after all, there's no-one else there) and off we go into the water. We did have lunch there afterwards (we were the only diners).

We take a taxi to the next town along the coast - Kampot. This means 2 hours rammed into the back of a Toyota with 2 adults and 2 children, plus us and bags. There are another 3 adults in the front. It's a bit sweaty, but Kampot, when we get there, is lovely and we visit a pepper farm.

Further round the coast at Kep we find an island with beach huts and the most amazing seafood - the loveliest Cambodian lady we have met serves us lunch, dinner, bed and breakfast for US$30. There's some confusion about when our boat is supposed to come and pick us up, and for a while we wonder if we will be marooned, (not such a bad thing until the dollars run out and we have to start fishing or cleaning toilets) but then we are back on the mainland and eacting Italian quality ice-cream at a restaurant overlooking the coast. We love Cambodia - tomorrow Vietnam!

So now we are about to climb into another taxi - we've paid more so as to be able to breathe in this one though - and cross another border.

The elephant sneezed...

We have fallen in love with Cambodia. We have been beguiled by its exotic charm of volcanic public baths, friendly locals with a great sense of humour, hardworking beautiful women and strong stocky men, pepper trees, cashew nut trees, papaya trees (maybe not jackfruit!) and small islands with clear water, white beaches and amazing , amazing seafood.
After only 3 weeks, we have also come to care a lot about what happens and what goes on in Cambodia. Many conversations have turned to discussing what we could do if we lived out here. And why? Simple, really, there is a lot to care about. One of the reasons for traveling was to learn more about the places we visit. Before visiting Cambodia, I knew a little about the Khmer Rouge, Pol Pot and I had seen the film The Killing Fields many years ago. But that was it. I certainly had little idea of what happened next after 1979 when the Khmer Rouge left. The story is deeply complicated, mysterious, frustrating and sad. The people who took over the country's reigns in 1979 are still in power today, yet Cambodia still faces a massive hangover from the horrendous and brutal policies carried out under the Khmer Rouge governance. The infant mortality rate is second in Asia after Afghanistan, adult illiteracy is high at 30% and the country sits very high on the Transparency International corruption league tables.

Politics is high on the agenda just now, with national elections at the end of the month and sometimes it is hard to know what all these facts and figures really mean. All we have to go on are anecdotal stories from the various tuktuk drivers and locals we spoke to. The party in power, the CPP, is meant to be riddled with corruptive practices. We were told that before the election they will pay villagers upwards of $5 each for their vote. They also have privatised many of Cambodia's main tourist sites. Angkor Wat, for instance, is run by a company owned by someone who is in the CPP government. Cambodians get access to the site for free but little of the huge tourist revenue gets pumped back into the local economy, one of the poorest in Cambodia. The Funcinpec party is the Royalist option and was, until recently, headed by the King's brother. But he is one of the last true international playboys, famous for sex scandals and more. The CPP party were going to arrest him and he went in to exile (very cloudy on the details here). He is now running a new political party from abroad and standing for election - whilst supposedly in exile. As I say, the details are a little cloudy but he is still the King's brother. The main opposition is the Sam Rainsey Party, and interestingly everyone we spoke to said they were going to vote for them. They want a change and a new direction. But the Sam Rainsey Party are also anti-Vietnam. Infact, most Cambodians don't seem to like the Vietnamese or the Thais for that matter. And it's not the England/Scotland banter we know and love/hate. They really don't like the Vietnamese and Thais and are not afraid to say it. Cambodians blame them for stealing much of their land, culture and heritage. Old disputes die hard.
Most Cambodians don't earn a lot of money and life is hard. A school teacher only earns $30 a month. A textile factory worker can earn $60 a month. There is no Welfare State and medical care is of a very basic standard. It may help to put it in context to know that the price of a litre of fuel is currently about $1.20 - $1.30. A litre of fuel will cover a distance of about 30km or more. If you need to travel each day on your moped to get to work (there are no public bus services, people usually travel 5 to a moped or stacked high on the back of a heavily loaded truck), it doesn't take great maths skills to work out that this doesn't leave much at the end of each month for food, water, clothes etc.
At the other end of the scale, a bank worker (with good ICT and English skills) can earn $200 a month and a Customs official can earn $200 a month plus an extra $500 in 'under the table' exchanges.
Therefore, who wants to be a teacher when the salary is so low? Education is free but many children still do not go to school. Family resettlement had made it financially impossible for many to travel to the local school, you still need to pay for a uniform and books and sometimes the teacher may demand a little extra money each day for you to attend. We were very fortunate enough to meet another colleague of Kathy's mum called Ros, who was in the process of setting up an NGO with the simple purpose of creating the means, wheels and community ethos for getting children to school. It makes you think, though, it really does.

There are many great organisations and NGOs doing terrific work in Cambodia, and as a tourist we felt it was important to be as responsible as we could in where and how we spent our dollars. The 'stayanotherday' (not to be confused with the classic East 17 song) leaflet and website was a great help and guide. Even then, there is a growing problem with what is known as 'orphanage tourism'. There are many orphans in Cambodia due to problems like Hiv/Aids or the fact that their parents simply can't afford to look after them. Tourists are welcomed to visit many of these and ' make the children's day'. But this presents its own problems of properly respecting the privacy of the children, how meaningful the interactions are and taking photos of the children like they were something to be admired at in a zoo.
One of the most interesting and imaginative suggestions for helping landmine victims was Miss Landmine 2009!











I repeat again, these are all anecdotes but they do make you interested and eventually they do make you care.

I like the story of the orphaned Mcac monkeys we visited at Phnom Tamao Wildlife Sanctuary, courtesy of Barb and the excellent Betelnut Tours. They group all the orphaned monkeys in the one cage and encourage them to bond together to form their own gang. This process is helped by us humans going up to the cage and baring our teeth at them to 'toughen them up'. There was one wee group of about five monkeys who were only interested in hugging each other. One of the larger ones was intent on spoiling there love-in and kept pushing them apart but it only served to make them cling even tighter to each other the next time they grouped together.

We are going to watch the upcoming Cambodian election with great interest.