Travel highlights: Northern Vietnam

It's been almost four months since Vietnam and I still salivate when I think of the food. Vietnamese knocks the socks off Thai, but you didn't hear me say that. A woman I met there and traveled with some came through Bangkok recently and we couldn't resist going to a Vietnamese restaurant...thought it would help with the reminiscing. Speaking of reminiscing...

The flight from Luang Prabang to Hanoi was certainly interesting. I flew Laos Airways, which is often the target of chuckles when travelers toss tales of sketchy flights. A rattling noise commenced during takeoff and persisted for the first half of the flight (strike one). When the flight attendant came around with drinks, I lowered my tray table and it fell off in my lap (strike two). At that point, the man across the aisle said, "Uh oh, what's strike three?" and those of us in the row held our collective breaths until we landed. That was one big sigh of relief. By the time I checked into the hotel - family-run Tung Trang, by the way, if you're looking for good location and hospitality at a reasonable price - it was nightfall. Sweet-tempered Snow, the receptionist, steered me toward the closest streetside pho restaurant, where I sat down for my first big bowl of the quintessential Hanoi dish - noodles, sliced meat, herbs and broth.

Pho restaurant during daylight hours:

Properly fueled, I set off on my first stroll around the Old Quarter:

If you only do one thing in Hanoi, meander the streets of this vibrant, chaotic area with its myriad shops, cafes and art galleries. I could have spent my entire time in Hanoi getting lost in the maze that's the Old Quarter - and nearly did. It was completely overwhelming at first - seemingly impenetrable motorbike traffic that makes crossing the street an extreme sport, a constant stream of solicitations by cyclo drivers and street vendors, obstructed sidewalks that force you out into the street - but you gradually get used to it. In fact, when I got back to Bangkok, I was bewildered by what I perceived to be an eerie quietness. Where's all the noise I once thought defined this city? For about a week, I would question friends: does it seem especially quiet here? Now, I'm happy to say, I've adjusted and live life appropriately annoyed by my surroundings.



In the Old Quarter, shops selling the same type of goods are generally grouped together on the same street. The street names reflect what's sold there now or what was historically sold there, as far back as the 13th century, when artisan guilds began sprouting all over the area. Street names begin with "Hang", which means shop, and end with the specific merchandise, so you can get your silver on Hang Bac, baskets on Hang Bo and silk on Hang Dao.

The numbers you see in the picture below are spray-painted all over the facades of Hanoi and were a mystery to me for a while. I asked the woman below and was given the hand gesture for opening a lock with a key. Several other inquiries didn't lead to further enlightenment, but I finally got my answer. They're phone numbers for people in the repair/service industry. Seems if you need any kind of maintenance work, you just pick a number off the wall and dial.

One day I wondered over to Ba Dinh Square for the Ho Chi Minh Mausoleum and One Pillar Pagoda. The mausoleum's forbidding form and a daunting line under the hot sun initially quelled my excitement for visiting dear Uncle Ho, but the succession of ants moved steadily and soon enough we were inside the cool, dimly lit building. There, the adored former leader looks as if he's just down for a nap, save the glass case enclosing him - a pretty cool sight. Okay, don't leave Hanoi without seeing the Old Quarter and Ho Chi Minh.

The streets of Hanoi teem with motorbikes, many carrying three or four people plus a huge box, or maybe even a TV. Trying to cross the street is like being in your own Frogger video game, but walk confidently, steadily, with no sudden stops, and the system works.

I discovered that Britney Spears' meltdown saga hasn't affected her popularity in one country. She's huge in Vietnam and these tables covered in her mug aren't that uncommon:

My first mini-excursion outside Hanoi was the famously stunning and ethereal Halong Bay:

I booked a two-day tour with a travel agent and ended up on a boat with this fine crew:

While there, I went kayaking for the first time. It's either harder than it looks or my arms are wimpier than I thought, but it made for an incredible experience. Eight of us went, our destination this lake surrounded by limestone karsts like the ones shown two pics above. For a while, we were the only ones there, treated to an amazing stillness. I didn't take my camera for fear of drowning it, but hope the image of that lake is sufficiently burned into memory. I remember lying back in the kayak for a breathtaking view of only karsts and sky.

The next day, the entire group went on a walk through the "Surprise" Cave, named so because of its surprise ending. Spoiler alert! Spoiler alert!

I also ventured up north to mountainous Sapa from my base in Hanoi. The overnight train spit me out at the northern most stop and from there I took an hour-long van ride to the former French resort town. In the van, I conversed with an older gentleman who's originally from Vietnam, now living in Canada. Born in South Vietnam, he was touring the north for the first time like me. He noticed the thin jacket I was wearing and asked if I had brought something warmer. I had not. As it's quite cold in Sapa, he insisted that I take one of his sweaters. I tried to decline the kind gesture, luckily unsuccessfully because I would have frozen without it. As he suggested, I returned the sweater to the front desk of his hotel before leaving town. Some people are just so nice, they really make up for the jerks.

Picturesque Sapa is hot on the tourist trail. It's undeniably beautiful, but seems a little contrived with all the Westerners and people selling goods to the Westerners and not many beyond that. I'd recommend just a night or two here and then more exploration of the Lao Cai province. While in Sapa, I did go on one of the easier treks for this incredible late afternoon view:

Sapa is home to many ethnic minority groups such as H'mong and Dao. They pour in every day, dressed in their colorful traditional garb, to peddle goods such as textiles and silver. This woman from the Black H'mong group took a liking to me, which translates to saw me as an easy target. She's intuitive because I did way overpay for a pillowcase. Nevermind, though. It was a good price for interesting conversation.

From Sapa, I ventured to Bac Ha, much quieter than the former except on Sundays when tourists and hill-tribes living in outlying areas swarm the town for the hugely popular market. Most of the market vendors are Flower H'mong and don the most vibrantly hued clothing.

The action starts around six or seven in the morning when locals arrive with livestock, textiles, silver, food, you name it, to sell. They're there to work but you also get the feeling it's the big social event of the week as groups gather to chat and possibly make fun of the poorly dressed tourists. I don't know, I'm just guessing.



I tasted some of the rice wine this woman is selling. Holy stomach burn, this stuff is strong.

The next day, it was back to Hanoi for one more night and some cha ca, another dish that's full-on Hanoi. White fish and greens are cooked in a hot pot and then mixed with cold rice noodles and shrimp paste. Delicious and a nice farewell to a city I missed the minute I left. So many big cities these days are generic enough to place them in just about any country. But, Hanoi - absolutely oozing with personality - is unmistakably Vietnamese.

That's my love letter to Hanoi and surrounds...next time we'll see how many memories I can recall from Central Vietnam...

Koh Phi Phi chilled

Aaaaahhhh...choooo... Whew, hello there. Things look about the same around here. But the least you could've done is dust a bit while I was gone. Well, that's okay, can't say I blame you. Let me just sweep a little here and, yes, I'll just brush these cobwebs out of the corner. Aaah...much better...

Now where were we? Ah yes, Vietnam. But before I get to that, please allow me to interject my latest trip. Because I write so infrequently, I suppose it seems all I do is vacation, but there really were some toilsome weeks of work in between. The term ended on the 24th and Nabeel and I hopped on an overnight train to Surat Thani. From there, we took a bus to Krabi, then a ferry to Ko Phi Phi, and voila - well, almost 24 hours later - we were lounging on one of the most spectacular islands in the world. Because of its beauty, much of this island has been grossly overdeveloped and gets a bad rap as a tourist trap. But here's the secret to paradise found: go during off-season and flee the main beach for the tranquil east coast.

We went straight from the pier to Pak Nam Beach and its only resort, Phi Phi Relax Beach Resort, which offers clean, modern bungalows with little daybeds on the porches from which to gaze at the ocean. The beach there is nice as well - a long enough strip of sand for a decent walk. The water all along the east coast is calm and ideal for swimming.

If I'm on an east coast, I love getting up for sunrise walks on the beach. At least for the first couple of mornings until the novelty wears off and sleeping in takes precedence.

After a couple of days on Pak Nam, we moved a couple of bays down to Rantee Beach, probably my favorite. The sloppily built bungalows are about as basic as they come but comfortable - if you don't mind the occasional critter stopping by. In a bit of irony (and bizarre design choice), these tiny shacks boasted the best toilets around - gleaming white porcelain with an automatic flush. The best part about Rantee was that with only a few other bungalows occupied, we felt like we owned the beach. I could have stayed a lot longer than the three days we did if not for tiring of the limited food options.

In the end, culinary boredom is what drove us further south and around the bend to west-coast Long Beach. More crowded than the previous two, but not nearly the party of Ton Sai, this beach offers a nice compromise. There are a few good Thai restaurants to satisfy the palate and the beach is quite peaceful in the mornings and late afternoons (of course, this is off-season - not sure what it's like during tourist time).

The views from Long Beach are truly stunning.

Long Beach's greatest perk, though, is that it's easy to leave. It's located toward the end of the peninsula so you can cut over by land to to its parallel neighbor on the east coast. And this beach happens to be the best of all. There's no accommodation whatsoever, only a little snack shack and a long stretch of beautiful sand. By hiking over there in the late afternoon and early morning, we had hours of being the only people there. I had a hard time believing this was the Koh Phi Phi that's constantly accused of being too overcrowded.


After a good eight days of reading by the ocean, swimming in the calmest and clearest of emerald waters, and sipping mango lassis and spiked lemon shakes, I was as relaxed as I've ever been. That was a true vacation and one I didn't want to see end. But inevitably it did and now I'm back at work, already brainstorming about the next holiday. Hmm...

Travel highlights: Laos

What excuse have I got this time for my shameful neglect of this blog? I could tell you that I've been distracted by matters of the heart - a pleasantly unexpected development as soon as I returned from my trip - so that you could sigh and empathize, "Ah yes, understandable." But as I don't make habit of revealing such intimate details on this forum - and to be fair, that's only part of the story - I'll just carry on as if no time has passed since I promised you this summary of my stay in Laos.

The two weeks there now seem like a hazy dream. Oh wait, it was hazy there. I timed my trip just perfectly with the annual burning of the forests. That was unfortunate in terms of pictures and just general breathing comfort, but thankfully Luang Prabang is capable of seducing even through a pervasive curtain of smog.

To be honest, my immediate reaction to this quaint, walkable town was not overwhelmingly positive. I was thrown off by all the tourists who seemed to outnumber the locals. But I gave in to the experience and met a lot of interesting travelers from all over. The hedonist in me was also won over by all the gastronomical offerings. There are restaurants from all over the globe, though the Laos and French ones are (understandably) most notable. Mornings usually began with a warm, fresh baguette and cup of Laos-style coffee with its sweet condensed milk. A wine bar with cushy seating on the front porch turned out to be my favorite post-dinner hangout, and a night was rarely complete without a visit to one of the crepe stands that pop up along the streets. French colonization was fortunate in some regards. Cuba also gets a mini spotlight here as one of the most popular and amusing hangouts is the outdoor bar Mojito, where gregarious Laos guys in cowboy hats twirl bottles ala Tom Cruise in Cocktail and pronounce the j in the signature drink as you would for jug.

Architecture is another aspect of Laos that benefited from French occupation. Just walking the streets and looking at buildings makes for an interesting afternoon.

The morning alms procession (Tak Bat) is a daily Buddhist tradition and with so many monasteries in Luang Prabang, it's a particularly colorful sight here. Just after daybreak, monks file out of the monasteries and line up with their alms bowls to accept homemade sticky rice from the townspeople. Unfortunately this very spiritual practice has become a bit of a tourist spectacle. I can't feign higher ground here because I obviously took this picture, though I did so hastily and from a considerable distance, trying to pacify my conscious by separating myself from the mass in the streets with their flashing digital cams. It's one of those situations that you can recognize as invasive but take part in anyway with a slightly red face. Another issue besides the indiscreet photography is the well-meaning tourists who want to contribute to the alms-giving but end up offending by using the wrong hand or wearing the wrong clothes or sitting the wrong way or giving the wrong thing. Peddlers with an eye for business opportunity sell rice to the enthusiastic tourists, and that rice is unsuitable and sometimes even unclean.

If LP had a soundtrack, the first track would be the constant drone of tuk-tuk drivers directed to tourists: waterfall cave waterfall cave waterfall cave. This is repeated day in and day out lest you forget that tuk-tuks can transport you to the two most popular nearby attractions. I imagine the wives of these drivers waking to their husbands reciting this mantra in their sleep.

Stephanie and I did make it to both the Kouang Xi waterfall and the Pak Ou cave. The waterfall is a beauty, though with so many tourists, serenity is elusive.

The cave contains a pretty cool collection of ancient Buddhist statues but overall isn't that spectacular. As Stephanie keenly observed, you'd be pretty pissed off if you spent three hours round trip on a bus to get there, but being that you go by boat, it's a fairly enjoyable morning.

One of our favorite attractions was the Ock Pop Tok weaving center. You can take intensive weaving courses here, but we only had time for the tour of the silk production process. It was interesting to see what resources are used for the natural dyes, such as turmeric for yellow, indigo leaves for blue, and bark from tamarind tree for dark red. I was struck by the tediousness of the weaving. The weavers at this center don't work grueling hours, but I imagine they still ache at nights from the static position and repetitive movements.

The night market in Luang Prabang offers your standard array of local handicrafts, but a more interesting experience is the morning market that runs parallel to the Mekong. You never know what you'll find there as vendors seem to bring whatever they've managed to kill or capture that morning. Birds of all sorts, hamsters, even the hind legs of a dog.

One day I crossed the Mekong and spent the better part of the day in Ban Xieng Maen. A stroll down a dirt path leads from one historic temple to another, most of them abandoned. The picture directly below is of peaceful Wat Chom Phet, at the top of a hill. I was there for an hour looking down and across the river at Luang Prabang, not interupted by a single person.

I mosied on to another temple, where I met two young monks with flashlights who led me to a cave and the old abandoned temple pictured below:

If you live in America and visit your doctor before traveling to certain parts of Southeast Asia, you'll no doubt leave with a prescription for Malarone, a malaria preventative. It's the most effective defense against malaria, and to keep it that way, the manufacturers won't sell it in this area (or possibly outside of North America, I'm not sure). The mosquitoes would just become immune, as they are to the malarial drugs that are available here. That's why my doctor said don't bother, just wear repellent and get to a hospital within 48 hours of malaria-like symptoms. And this is how Steph and I got an unplanned and amusing tour of the hospital system in LP. I had been feverish for a day and then had to abruptly abandon a bewildered masseuse to go puke in her bathroom, so we figured a malaria test was indeed in order. We followed the map to a street with beautiful and colorful old French buildings, none of which were clearly marked as a hospital. We were pointed in different directions and had tuk-tuk drivers offer to take us there for a fee - there being some location we could have thrown a stone at. At last, though, we located the hospital and were then directed to a building serving only malaria patients. I didn't sign in, didn't pay a thing - the nurse just came out to the lobby, pricked my finger and told me to wait 15 minutes. That gave us time to find humor in the wall hangings, like this malaria warning:

And this poster demonstrating the importance of proper hand-washing:

Ironically, there was no soap in the hospital restroom.

Of no surprise to you, I tested negative for malaria, so Stephanie and I were able to carry on, the hospital saga evolving into just another funny travel anecdote.

More pictures of Laos are here.

Up next: highlights of Vietnam, coming to you, er, sometime soon.

Travel highlights: Cambodia

After eight weeks of travel, I'm back in Bangkok and a week into work. The trip went by in a flash, yet it seems ages ago that Stephanie landed and we boarded a plane for Siem Reap a couple of days later. It was actually late February. Though I was only in Cambodia for three days (just touching the surface of the surface), it seduced me so that I got the most emotional when looking back at those pictures. All of the countries I've visited in Southeast Asia have an abundance of elements that lure and delight, but there seem to be a couple such aspects that jump vividly from the moving picture story in my brain of each particular place. When I recall my time in Vietnam, I'll think first of the food and landscape; of Laos, the architecture and romance; but of Cambodia, it will be the people. We met many who lived in near unimaginable situations and yet the smiles on their faces were the widest and their demeanor the warmest. The children had no toys to play with so they were forced to use creativity and nature's gifts such as sticks and rocks - their cleverness continuously impressed me.

Stephanie and I spent our days with our tour guide, Fila, and his father and tuk-tuk driver. This is the only time during my trip that I hired a tour guide, and I definitely recommend it for Siem Reap and Angkor Wat. There's so much to see in that area, it really saves time. Plus, Fila was able to give us some true local experiences we would have missed otherwise.

Fila and his dad picked us up around five our first morning so we could see the sun rise behind stunning Angkor Wat, the largest religious structure in the world. The experience was well worth the early start. Don't come here without doing that. (Check out my right hand. You know you've been in Thailand too long when...)

We visited many other marvelous temples in the Angkor complex, but I won't go through all of them - only a couple of highlights. The picture below is of romantic and otherworldly Ta Prohm, "the Tomb Raider temple". The ruins have been left for the jungle to mercilessly devour, and its numerous towers, courtyards and corridors make for the best hind-and-go-seek setting ever.

The Banteay Srei temple, below, was probably my favorite. It's about an hour's drive from Siem Reap (and a white-knuckled one at that thanks to the narrow winding road scarcely big enough for a barreling oversized truck and vulnerable tuk-tuk). Because of approaching rain and the late hour, we had the place almost to ourselves, which made it seem more serene and special.


On the way back, we passed some street-side stands selling candy made from palm juice. We sampled some that was still warm and turns out completely addictive. Below is the palm juice being heated before it eventually thickens and is stored inside the palm leaf.

Two of the children born into the palm candy business in front of the finished product:

After visiting one of the temples, we passed this monk-run school. Fila himself was taught by monks and learned most of his English at a school like this. Here, a girl practices the Khmer classical dance while the boys study.

One day, Stephanie, Fila and I were eating lunch when we heard music from the end of the alley outside. He walked us over to what turned out to be a wedding celebration and asked if we could hang out for a bit and take pictures. Everyone there welcomed us crashers and pushed us toward the room where the bride and groom sat accepting offerings. They were dressed in traditional Khmer garb and guests would approach them one by one with their envelopes of money. This was just part of the larger three-day celebration.

Another highlight was meeting this family that lives on a lotus farm. They sell the lotus pods, whose seeds make a great snack. The children were so open and playful with us, as were all the other children we met. They really seem to trust and enjoy foreigners.

On our last day, we visited a school that teaches wood- and stone-carving techniques to disadvantaged children and young adults. I gained a new respect for the time and tediousness it takes to create the goods that become the focus of bargaining and wind up in Western homes as "a great buy". I should know; I have a bag full of them.

More pictures of Cambodia are here.

Up next: Laos