Hanoi and Cat Ba
Easy flight, easy in trip into town from airport. The van dropped us off in the Old Quarter near a guesthouse we wanted to stay. Our money blew like the wind in Hoi An, so we prepicked a place that supposedly had 4 to 6 dollar rooms. A helpful kid was there when the van stopped, grabbed Traci's bag and insisted on carrying it for her saying he knew where it was. His English was good, but not good enough to explain that the guesthouse in question was closed for expansion--cheap rooms are popular--so he showed us the English sign posted on the closed door. Then he said his father owned a hotel, cheap and only a few minutes away. He raced to the other side of town carrying Traci's pack, all the time saying it's only a few more minutes and asking if I was OK. "I'm very strong," he'd say thumping his chest and seeming to imply he'd take my bag as well. He couldn't have been more than 100 pounds. When we got there, I noticed we were where the bus was dropping other passengers off. The kid threw down Trac's bag and collapsed at the reception counter.
Rooms--9$, but with a TV and A/C. On a nearby corner, we found more bia hoi, that curiously good cheap potion we've come to love, and had a few before embarking on our pilgrimage to the temple of literature. There was no literature in the temple, but a few statues of guys who were into it several hundred years ago. Also were the names of all those receiving doctorates from the late twelfth to the late fifteenth centuries. Traci and I were rapt with this intake of haute culture, but we still found the bonsai exhibit temporarily on display for more interesting.
We went to an island honoring a guy who defeated the mongols, walked a little bit of the walking tour in Lonely Planet and ended up going back to our corner to drink more of our favorite potion and watch passersby till dinner. Afterwards we deposited ourselves back, this time sitting on the plastic chairs in the street because, due to the popularity of the beer, the corner was too crowded with locals and tourists. He we drank and talked, and drank and talked until we realized we had to go to bed.
The next morning's bus sucked. Hot, packed, queasy stomach and no room for our bags, our misery was only ameliorated by talking to the couple sitting next to us about their experiences in the Phillipines with Peace Corps. We took a boat, first to a cave, then through some of the most beautiful scenary I've seen. Halong Bay ranks up there with parts of southern Utah as places that make most destinations tourists flock too as drab and bland. The water is green with jagged teeth of limestone jutting towards the sky. In sheltered coves, there are multi-colored floating villages filled with fishing families, complete with several dogs per household. At first we were rankled with the fact that we couldn't get a fast boat to Cat Ba Island, but were glad to take our time.
Cat Ba town this time of year and week is dead. Few tourists and locals contribute to a generally peaceful atmosphere. One constant annoyance is the music playing from loudspeakers. Not overbearing in volume, but its the same two songs, about 20 seconds each, over and over again. One sounds something line a cross between Celine Dion and the slower parts of the Braveheart soundtrack, the second, and far worse, reminds of a movie I never saw, one of those supposedly uplifting ones that shows the audience some redeeming quality in life. One with Steve Gutenberg playing a counselor at a summer camp for kids with social problems. The whistling song is played overtop a montage of camp activities and chubby kids hiking with green hats on. Played over and over again this song is torture. It most likely is some "revolutionary" song about the heroic exploits of Uncle Ho. Unfortunately the summer camp image has stuck.
Our first day we spent reading on cushioned chairs on the beach. There was talk of us pretending we were rich, drinking fruity drinks and eating a large fish dinner at a floating restaurant. These plans were partially dropped when we saw the prices of the mediocre sounding fruity drinks. We did however have some fish at a floating resaurant, where two days later we found a floating dog. Pictures to come.
Yesterday Traci was sick from either the bia hoi or the nasty and expensive sandwich she had for breakfast--comfort food gone terribly awry. I rented a kayak and stroked my way to monkey island where I met someone who had been accosted my the monkeys (one of my fears as I pulled up to the then deserted island) The guy also claimed to have seen the monkeys take the water I'd stashed, something the absense my water sorta confirmed. I found a deserted beach and many cartons of cigarettes that had washed ashore, some still good. If I only smoked . . .
So, sadly these travels are at an end. We fly out of Hanoi tomorrow and have our first day at our new school on Monday. But there are redeeming qualities to Korea, and I'm looking forward to them. From one set of pleasures into another. I would love to hear from anyone who is reading this (comments email). I haven't heard from anyone living in a long while.
Rooms--9$, but with a TV and A/C. On a nearby corner, we found more bia hoi, that curiously good cheap potion we've come to love, and had a few before embarking on our pilgrimage to the temple of literature. There was no literature in the temple, but a few statues of guys who were into it several hundred years ago. Also were the names of all those receiving doctorates from the late twelfth to the late fifteenth centuries. Traci and I were rapt with this intake of haute culture, but we still found the bonsai exhibit temporarily on display for more interesting.
We went to an island honoring a guy who defeated the mongols, walked a little bit of the walking tour in Lonely Planet and ended up going back to our corner to drink more of our favorite potion and watch passersby till dinner. Afterwards we deposited ourselves back, this time sitting on the plastic chairs in the street because, due to the popularity of the beer, the corner was too crowded with locals and tourists. He we drank and talked, and drank and talked until we realized we had to go to bed.
The next morning's bus sucked. Hot, packed, queasy stomach and no room for our bags, our misery was only ameliorated by talking to the couple sitting next to us about their experiences in the Phillipines with Peace Corps. We took a boat, first to a cave, then through some of the most beautiful scenary I've seen. Halong Bay ranks up there with parts of southern Utah as places that make most destinations tourists flock too as drab and bland. The water is green with jagged teeth of limestone jutting towards the sky. In sheltered coves, there are multi-colored floating villages filled with fishing families, complete with several dogs per household. At first we were rankled with the fact that we couldn't get a fast boat to Cat Ba Island, but were glad to take our time.
Cat Ba town this time of year and week is dead. Few tourists and locals contribute to a generally peaceful atmosphere. One constant annoyance is the music playing from loudspeakers. Not overbearing in volume, but its the same two songs, about 20 seconds each, over and over again. One sounds something line a cross between Celine Dion and the slower parts of the Braveheart soundtrack, the second, and far worse, reminds of a movie I never saw, one of those supposedly uplifting ones that shows the audience some redeeming quality in life. One with Steve Gutenberg playing a counselor at a summer camp for kids with social problems. The whistling song is played overtop a montage of camp activities and chubby kids hiking with green hats on. Played over and over again this song is torture. It most likely is some "revolutionary" song about the heroic exploits of Uncle Ho. Unfortunately the summer camp image has stuck.
Our first day we spent reading on cushioned chairs on the beach. There was talk of us pretending we were rich, drinking fruity drinks and eating a large fish dinner at a floating restaurant. These plans were partially dropped when we saw the prices of the mediocre sounding fruity drinks. We did however have some fish at a floating resaurant, where two days later we found a floating dog. Pictures to come.
Yesterday Traci was sick from either the bia hoi or the nasty and expensive sandwich she had for breakfast--comfort food gone terribly awry. I rented a kayak and stroked my way to monkey island where I met someone who had been accosted my the monkeys (one of my fears as I pulled up to the then deserted island) The guy also claimed to have seen the monkeys take the water I'd stashed, something the absense my water sorta confirmed. I found a deserted beach and many cartons of cigarettes that had washed ashore, some still good. If I only smoked . . .
So, sadly these travels are at an end. We fly out of Hanoi tomorrow and have our first day at our new school on Monday. But there are redeeming qualities to Korea, and I'm looking forward to them. From one set of pleasures into another. I would love to hear from anyone who is reading this (comments email). I haven't heard from anyone living in a long while.
posted by The Principal at 2:12 PM
1 Comments:
You promised floating dog pictures... don't let me down
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