tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-777701669444939262024-02-21T06:12:45.128+00:00Teh TravelsNecia Johnstonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10944621747519115421noreply@blogger.comBlogger381125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-77770166944493926.post-42558799854504696072018-07-18T22:54:00.001+01:002018-10-07T14:06:56.662+01:00On to WordpressHello to any readers out there. This is a notification that I have moved my blog over to Wordpress. You can find it here: <a href="https://tehtravels.wordpress.com/">https://tehtravels.wordpress.com/</a>.<br />
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Please bear with me for a while, as some of the formatting from the posts I shifted from Blogger are a bit funky. I'll be working out the kinks shortly and I intend to increase my posts to at least one per week in an attempt to catch up with the backlog (I'm over a year behind schedule now!).<br />
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NNecia Johnstonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10944621747519115421noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-77770166944493926.post-48254220434321109792018-06-01T11:40:00.001+01:002018-06-01T11:40:21.870+01:00Vietnam, day 19: In Which Pineapples Are Tricky <div class="p1">
<i>Hoi An, Vietnam</i></div>
<i>1 June, 2017</i><br />
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After a few days in Hoi An, we finally decided to visit some of the old houses and assembly halls that the town is famous for. </div>
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Shortly after setting out for the morning, we passed by a group of young men and women who were dressed up nicely posing for photos. I wondered if it was their school graduation, or perhaps even a wedding.<br />
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For breakfast, we leisurely supped on french toast with pineapple jam, fruit, and tea at What Else Cafe. Though the day hadn’t heated up much, it was still nice to have the shade of umbrellas.<span class="Apple-converted-space"> </span></div>
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On this day, we were determined to visit as many of the old houses and halls as we could, having been negligent in this area on previous days. The first we saw was the House of Tan Ky, which has housed seven generations of the family. We were given a brief history of the house by a guide, and provided with an informational booklet. Apparently, Le Tan Ky was “born an orphan at a very early age".<span class="Apple-converted-space"> </span></div>
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The architecture was a mixture of Chinese, Japanese, and Vietnamese styles. While the house had many points of interest, one that particularly drew my attention was the columns that featured Chinese characters comprised of swooping abalone birds. Nearby was a case full of curiosities, including a Confucian Cup: a ceramic vessel that can be filled up to 80%, but not more or else the full contents flow out of the bottom. It’s not really intended to be drunk from, but rather stands as a metaphor for not being greedy. Even after reading a couple of explanations, I cannot understand how the physics of it works, but something something hydro-static pressure.</div>
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From there, we used Google Maps to find the Fujian Assembly Hall, but the app was foolish and led us around in circles. And that was supposedly one of the best halls! Alas, we had to abandon that particular quest.<span class="Apple-converted-space"> </span></div>
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We did, however, find the Trung Hoa Assembly Hall without issue. Built in 1741, it's one of the oldest halls in Hoi An and originally housed Chinese immigrants, as well as serving as a place of worship for Thien Hau Holy Mother.<span class="Apple-converted-space"> </span></div>
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Next up was the House of Quan Thang, which is three hundred years old. Ducking into the dimly lit interior, we had our ticket clipped by an extremely aged man. Unlike the House of Tan Ky, there were no tourists here, just us and the family.<br />
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In one room, we saw a kid doing his homework, with a fan whizzing away next to him.<br />
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The old man showed us a couple of the rooms, and then produced a worn notebook for us to read from. He was clearly learning English, and had written a long string of words such as 'shove', 'shovel', and 'pineapple'. He asked us if we would pronounce them for him, which we did. It seems that 'glove' and 'love' were difficult to get the hang of. Yannick asked if he could take the man's photo, and he gave us a very sweet smile. What a guy. </div>
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The Tran Family Chapel was not a house nor a hall, but rather a place to worship the family members who had passed away.<br />
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Every year on the anniversary of their death, the family member's box is opened and incense is lit for them. After a brief wander around the chapel, we were given tea and very dry biscuits and then shown into a room where old coins and souvenirs were sold. </div>
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Just down the road and along an alley, we found the famous Ba Le Well. Said to have been built in the tenth century, the water from this well is supposedly a bit magical (and stories of fairies persist). The keeper of the well is an elderly man who draws water from the well every day and delivers it to poor families. They use the water to make tea and soup - without the coveted well water, the traditional watercress soup is allegedly tasteless. Whispers that the well keeper is almost as old as the well itself are based around the supposed youth-giving effects of the special water.<br />
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At lunchtime we met up with Bridget and Jance for another round of banh mi at Banh Mi Phi! While eating, we were distracted by a cute and joyful baby at the next table. We soothed our spicily burning lips with cold soda water.<br />
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Practically next door was Ancient House, which was by far the largest of the ancient houses we had seen. Over 250 years old, the house is that of the Hong family, and I'm not sure why they decided to do away with having a personal name attached to the house, preferring to go with the most generic title possible. But even so, the house felt far from impersonal. We were shown around by a woman who explained to us a cool shutter system that was in place on some of the doors that allowed light and air to come in, but not prying thief hands. </div>
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As well as a 92 year old woman who was having a rest in one of the rooms, we saw another boy doing his homework. The boy (Tom) became very interested in Yannick's camera, and once it was handed over, he snapped a billion photos as we passed from room to room. In the gift store, Bridget found a silver ring that she liked, while I bought a patterned top suitable for the hot climate. We were invited to sit, and shared green tea and more of those incredibly dry biscuits with the family.<br />
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Our tourist itch having been sufficiently scratched for the day, we returned to our hotel to rinse off the sweat and then paid Art Spa a visit. Over the previous days, we had been touted many times for spa experiences, but decided to look up reviews of the spas online before picking one. This turned out to be a good idea, because Art Spa was amazing! Yannick opted for a half hour head, back and shoulders massage, while I went all in and had a full-body tranquility massage. We started off with a relaxing foot bath, and then moved onto the massage tables. I wore paper underpants. It was my first ever professional massage, and it was one of the best experiences of my life. Afterwards, we were treated to homemade banana lollies and green tea (the tea was frankly disgusting, but we didn't mind because the experience was still overall amazing). We made sure to give Art Spa a glowing review.<br />
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That evening we chilled out and watched some Vikings episodes on Netflix.<br />
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<b>Today's post was almost called: </b>All the Halls - An Historic Day of Assembly</div>
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</style>Necia Johnstonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10944621747519115421noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-77770166944493926.post-61960236300400825792018-04-30T21:00:00.000+01:002018-04-30T21:00:25.416+01:00Vietnam, day 18: Mounting the Marvellous Mountains Most Marbelous<div class="p1">
<i>Hoi An, Vietnam</i></div>
<i>31 May, 2017</i><br />
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Anticipating a long day ahead of us, we made a beeline for Hoi An Roastery to tuck into some much needed breakfast. </div>
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Yannick indulged in a coconut ice cream coffee with a side of croissant, while I had my customary green tea.<br />
It was still rather early, and there was hardly anyone else out and about. We managed to find the hotel that Bridget and Jance were staying in, and were seated in the foyer in grand carved wooden chairs to await the tour guide for our trip to the Marble Mountains! Shortly, we were greeted by our guide, who was called Snail, and ushered into the van to begin the drive.<br />
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Though mainly uneventful, the last ten minutes or so of the drive provided brilliant views of the sea. </div>
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The Marble Mountains are a cluster of five pinnacles, each named after one of the elements (fire, water, earth, wood, and metal). Our tour began at Thuy Son, the water mountain. The stone steps leading up the mountainside were steep and narrow, and I tried my best to pretend that my breathing was no heavier than normal to keep up appearances of (nonexistent) fitness.<br />
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Before I was able to catch my breath, it was dashed away even more by the breathtaking pagoda that was nestled amongst the cliffs and trees. Allegedly some of the pagodas on Thuy date back to the seventeenth century, though I'm not sure which ones. The detail of the designs and the brilliant green roof tiles were stunning.<br />
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Legend has it that long ago, a dragon emerged from the sea and laid an egg. After a thousand days and nights, the egg hatched to reveal a beautiful woman. She fucked off somewhere [citation needed], but the egg shell fragments grew and became the five mountains of Marble fame. Doncha just love myths? They're so <i>weird</i>! You can't make this shit up. (Or <i>can</i> you?)<br />
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Across a nearby moat was a lil gazebo which contained a statue of the Lady Buddha. We'll be seeing more of her later.<br />
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Then Snail led us into a cave! You'd think that might take a while, but he was a speedy terrestrial pulmonate gastropod mollusc (#teamsnail). The air was clouded with incense, and statues of various worship-worthy historical and spiritual figures loomed from the swirling vapours. It was nice to be able to escape inside a cave for a bit, as the temperatures had reached nearly 40C and we were sweating profusely. </div>
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Continuing up the extremely narrow stairs and scrambling through a crack in the rock (loftily named the Gate of Heaven) we emerged into daylight at the summit of the mountain! While gazing up at the glorious pagoda, we were bewildered by a strange barking noise which sort of sounded like animal noises played through tinny speakers. Upon inspecting the rocky pool that the sounds were emanating from, we discovered that there were in fact no low quality speakers, but rather actual frogs. If I hadn't seen it with my own eyes, I wouldn't have believed that frogs could make those croaks. </div>
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See! Those mountains <i>totally</i> look like eggshells right? Right. </div>
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Next up was an archway that led to a sun-dappled walkway and a shrine. There was a gaggle of schoolchildren in this area, and some were whispering between themselves and glancing at me. The one with the most courage approached me and asked if she could take my photo. We posed for a selfie, and then the floodgates opened and I was inundated by the rest of the group lining up to take photos with me as well! I'm not entirely sure why they wanted my photo, but I did feel like I finally achieved my fifteen minutes of fame. Now I shall sink into insignificance for the remaining three quarters of my life.<br />
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Heading back inside the mountain, we stopped amongst a circle of shrines to learn many facts. I answered some pop quiz questions correctly and received many high fives! #teamsnail. We rubbed a lucky Buddha's belly and then trekked down a lot of stairs to reach the tour van. The stairs were very jungly and we were surprised by a couple of huge centipedes snaking their way along the steps. </div>
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When I say huge, I mean huge. It was twice as long as a stapler, and not those mini neon-coloured ones that girls had in high school. According to Snail, they're not an indigenous species, and were brought to Vietnam to be used as fishing bait. As with most introduced species, their populations became a bit out of control (lookin' at you, gorse). They are venomous, causing dizziness and fever in humans, and death in small mammals.<br />
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From there, we were driven to a so-called marble factory, which just seemed to be a tourist shop filled with statues. As the Marble Mountains contain (surprise surprise) marble, as well as limestone, the purchase of ornaments constitutes a large portion of tourist spending. Whether these statues were made with marble from the area, or even marble at all, I was dubious of. A more cost-effective method would be to bulk import from a cheap seller and then pass the statues off as artisanal. After using the factory's toilet, we popped down the road to a noodle shop where we were provided with lunch. Snail was very nice, and made sure that I got a special tofu dish rather than the meat options that everyone else got. Sadly, it was then time to bid farewell to Snail, and we joined #teamturtle.<br />
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Unfortunately I'm sketchy on the details of this next part, but we saw another cave (Am Phu) with shrines and the like. Team Turtle was double the size of our last tour group, and we found the info less interesting so we wandered a bit away from the others. This cave had been designed to signify the eighteen levels of hell, and strangely enough (from what I can tell online) Am Phu resides inside Thuy Son. I'm not sure why we didn't visit Am Phu before lunch, when we were right there at the same mountain! But anyway, the decorations seemed much more gaudy, with neon lights and badly crafted figures. Turtle was telling stories for a long time, and we became very bored. The best part of visiting Am Phu was punching a gong we found. Perhaps we unknowingly summoned a demon. Once we all piled back into the van to move onto the next destination, Turtle asked if anyone had seen Bob. After a frantic search of the carpark, Bob the old Aussie dude turned up and we were able to carry on, resting assured that no one had been kidnapped or lost in the depths of hell. </div>
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Further along the coast, we alighted at Monkey Mountain, where an enormous statue of the Lady Buddha was being spray-painted by two workmen (if you look closely you can see them suspended from long ropes near the hem of her robe).<br />
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We wandered about the courtyards and the temple, where I was once again asked to pose for a photo. This time I posed with a whole family, and felt a bit out of place. How would they explain who I am to people looking at the photo? Am I now immortalised forever on this family's mantlepiece, smiling on Monkey Mountain with strangers? It was a fairly surreal experience. As Yannick enjoyed an ice cream, we gazed out over the countryside and the South China Sea.<br />
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Later that evening, we emerged napped and showered from our hotel ready for dinner. Attempting to procure a table at Ms Ly 22, we were informed that they were very busy, and that we could return in twenty minutes. We took the opportunity to wander about Hoi An some more, and see all the beautiful lanterns.<br />
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Dinner was well worth the wait! I chowed down on a green papaya salad that was super delicious (and made with soy sauce rather than fish sauce - yay!), while Yannick sampled two local specialties: white rose, and Cao Lao, a Japanese-style noodle dish with pork and croutons. Seeing that they offered the Ancient Hoi An cocktail, we felt obliged to order one! Oddly, it was very different from the one we had the night before, but still extremely tasty. It was a lovely ending to a long day. </div>
Necia Johnstonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10944621747519115421noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-77770166944493926.post-45377655624087327042018-04-29T16:05:00.000+01:002018-04-29T16:05:14.001+01:00Vietnam, day 17: Liberating Cuba, One Drink at a Time<div class="p1">
<i>Hoi An, Vietnam</i></div>
<i>30 May 2017</i><br />
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On our second day in Hoi An, we had a slow start to the morning with a stroll. </div>
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We were still unaccustomed to seeing so many attractive lanterns, and took too many photos accordingly.<br />
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For breakfast, we stopped at Espresso Station, where I enjoyed a refreshing strawberry lemonade, and Yannick had (can you guess?) ca phe sua da. From what I could tell, a speciality of the café was some sort of terrifyingly black and grainy drink that coated the teeth of those who were drinking it, making them look completely rotten.<br />
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Next up, we ran an errand! How un-holidayish. Except that it was a very holidayish errand, being that we were sending off a postcard to a loved one. The post shop itself was in a very old building, with a carved wooden ceiling and vintage fixtures.<br />
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Continuing our wanderings, we crossed the bridge to Cam Nam, the island that neighboured the one our hotel was on. The day was becoming very hot, and wasn't helped by the fact that a street we walked down had no shade, and many people were burning fake money by the roadside (so that their ancestors would have cash to blow in the afterlife). Fruit and flowers had been laid out along the way, and we saw that rice, candies and confetti had been thrown about, leading us to believe that perhaps there had been some sort of ceremony earlier that morning. Pathways off the main road led past houses down to the river, where locals moored their boats. There was more foliage by the river, which helped a little bit with the scorching sun, and we saw a beetle! It was bright blue, but in that metallic way that some bugs are.<br />
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As we walked further from the bridge leading to the old town, the more rural Cam Nam became, and we came across a greater proportion of fishermen, dirt paths, and trees (here's a jackfruit tree!). Eventually, we decided to turn back and the walk along the main, sun-soaked road felt like it took forever.<br />
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Crossing back into the old town, we passed by a few temples and found that the area just north of Cam Nam has a very French colonial feel, with the distinctive mustard-coloured buildings.<br />
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Like this!<br />
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Happening upon a tea shop, we were offered a free tasting and I jumped at the opportunity. The tea was quite delicate and fragrant, and even Yannick didn't mind it! (As he is a staunch tea-hater, that means that it was great tea.) I bought a lemongrass tea for Sue, one of our friends and former house sit hosts back in London.<br />
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Needing some sustenance and a break from the sun, we lunched at Karma Waters, a tiny vegan cafe. I opted for the burger, while Yannick slurped up a pho. The cafe's toilet was located in their back garden in an outhouse, and had no running water (only a bucket of water to pour in as a 'flush' function). We wandered around randoms streets some more on the way back to our hotel for a siesta. </div>
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Dem lanterns, tho!<br />
So aesthetic.<br />
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Some time later, we took a taxi to the beach: Bai Bien Cua Dai. After a brief episode of staring around helplessly, we found Bridget and Jance, and set off along the beach in search of a suitable hang out location. At regular intervals were different sets of beach chairs with umbrellas and little tables, each owned by a bar. Well...I say bar...it was more like a shack with one lady inside. We made our choice based solely on the fact that the lady seemed genuinely nice (and when you have so much choice, you kind of just have to pick one because weighing up the pros and cons of each would take far too much time). Each chair was 20,000VND, and we picked a few cocktails from the menu. It was my first time trying a banana daiquiri! Yannick was able to order his favourite cocktail: the Cuba Libre. When Bridget hired a towel from the beach shack lady, she sprinted off and over a dune, and we theorised that she may have been running to her home for unforeseen supplies. After all, with all that booze in the shack how could there be space for towels? After a while of lounging and watching the others swim, I saw a man leap into one of those small circular boats (a coracle). He used an oar, but not in the usual way. He kind of just wiggled it from side to side in a way that I thought was doomed to fail, but somehow was very effective! He clearly knows more about the physics of oars than I do.<br />
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With our beach itch scratched, we walked back towards the beach entrance and were surprised to find that it was swarming with beach-goers! Presumably, late afternoon was when all the locals flocked to the beach for a swim, just as we had experienced on Con Son island.<br />
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Finding a larger beachside bar (one that wasn't a shack), we ordered smoothies and milkshakes and rinsed the sand off our feet from a plastic water barrel.<br />
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Catching a taxi back to the old town, we wandered around some more (the crowds were out here too!).<br />
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A small night market had been assembled, and one guy on a motorbike flashed past us precariously balancing a tray of full soup bowls. He had to dodge so many people, and the soup was sloshing around a lot. Not your typical delivery service.<br />
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Dem lanterns, tho!!</div>
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For dinner, we met up with Bridget and Jance again and were the sole patrons of The Little Menu. The owner was a swell guy and waited on us hand and foot, recommending dishes to us as well as the Ancient Hoi An cocktail, which was delightful! I can safely say that it's in my Top 5 list of cocktails. I wish I could remember what was in it, but all I can say for certain was that it contained rum and passionfruit juice. We ate well, and after our meal the owner came over with a tray of chilled face cloths rolled up and declared them to be spring rolls! He had been cracking jokes all evening, which made the experience memorable.<br />
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We bid adieu to our friends, knowing that we would be seeing them early the next morning for an exciting expedition!<br />
(Dem lanterns tho amiright?)</div>
Necia Johnstonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10944621747519115421noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-77770166944493926.post-85513926695143621572018-03-26T16:22:00.003+01:002018-03-26T16:22:41.515+01:00Vietnam, day 16: Ahoy, Hoi An!<div class="p1">
<i>Hoi An, Vietnam</i><br />
<i>29 May 2017</i></div>
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Early that morning, we arrived in Hoi An! However, as the main bus depot was a little far away from the centre, we caught a local bus. </div>
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And let me say that this was by far the most bizarre bus ride I have ever undertaken, all because of one man: the bus driver's assistant. I don't recall ever being on board a bus with an assistant before, but this bus had one! Before departing, he lit some incense on the bus' dashboard shrine. He took it upon himself to tell passengers which seat they should take, and where to place their belongings. Often throughout the ride when passengers disembarked and new passengers boarded, he would rearrange people. On several occasions he snatched up his trusty bottle of window cleaner and sprayed it all over the inside of the windshield - including in front of the driver! He sprayed so much that it dripped down in thick rivulets, and then didn't wipe it off, instead leaving it to slide down the glass by itself. He fussed over everything: folding and refolding some little towels he had, messing about with a USB stick to make the tiny TV play K-Pop music videos without sound, hanging an umbrella in different places around the bus, poking a fan to make sure it was still working, and "helping" people as they exited (though it looked rather a lot like mandhandling-cum-shoving). The only time he stopped bustling about terribly was when he engaged a tourist in conversation - she was reading a book about Cambodian refugees and he eventually ended the conversation by ripping out a page that he thought was interesting for keepsies. Poor girl. We were too intimidated to do anything on the bus except watch him, but later we joked about all the crazy stuff he did, and Yannick postulated that he would be the sort of person who would turn up to an event with pre-arranged seating (like a wedding) and reorder everyone himself.<br />
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Once we arrived in the centre of Hoi An, we were immediately struck by its beauty and charm. The streets were stunning, with lush trees and flowers dangling down, and brightly coloured lanterns strung between buildings. Symptoms of the night's storm were evident, and we skipped over puddles and patches of mud on the way to our hotel. Though too early to check in, we dropped off our bags and set out again to explore.<br />
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One of the top sights in the town is the Japanese Covered Bridge, a wooden bridge dating back to the 17th century which has a Buddhist temple attached to the far side. Starting in the 16th century, Hoi An was a hub of trade, and attracted a cornucopia of multicultural settlers, including Japanese, Portuguese, and Dutch.<br />
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Across the street from the bridge was a fenced-off rickshaw, which may have been some sort of open air museum exhibit, and may have been related to the bridge, and may have been of Japanese influence, and may have been from the 17th century. There was no information about it, so my imagination ran wild and I assumed the best!</div>
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Strolling further down the street, we observed many townsfolk going about their morning routines, drinking coffee on little plastic stools, smoking, chatting, and slurping up soup. We happened to spy the facade of a Greek restaurant, which was the number one rated eatery in town on Tripadvisor. We vowed to return.<br />
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Fancying a bit of a sit down ourselves, we popped into a café for some drinks, and the view of the street was gorgeous! Sipping away, we gazed out at the locals riding their bikes and the lanterns swaying ever so slightly in the breeze.<br />
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Setting out again, we were bombarded with tailor shops. If I wanted a suit, this would be the place to go. Surprisingly enough, though there were a large number of souvenir stalls, there were almost as many art shops, which elevated the classiness factor.<br />
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The streets around the market were dingier than the main thoroughfare, but they were chock full of flowers and fruit, so it made up for it.</div>
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As it was still fairly early in the morning, the marketplace was much busier than the rest of the town, and we saw many goods on offer, from blocks of fried tofu to dried beans, from rice noodles to hard boiled eggs. I simply had to get my hands on some fresh pineapple and mango, and yum!<br />
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Swinging around my pink bag of fruits, we wandered away from the market to see more, more, more. We couldn't get enough of Hoi An.</div>
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In all fairness, the town was very tourist-oriented, with plenty of Western style cafés, sidewalk racks crammed full of postcards, and women calling out "Hello boy, foot massage!" However, although it may not have been the most 'authentic' of Vietnamese experiences, we did eventually make use of all three of those tourist amenities, and I don't think that's a bad thing.<br />
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There were such a large portion of temples and assembly halls, it was faintly astounding. Walking down the street, you would have rows of old houses on each side, and every few steps it seems you would see a tiny wooden sign for a niche museum, a family chapel, or an assembly hall - each for a different cultural group. The reason behind this diversity was that Hoi An was established as a major port in the 15th century, with merchants from around the world dropping anchor here to trade spices and other goods (merchants were predominantly Chinese, Japanese, Dutch, Portuguese, and Indian).<br />
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For lunch, we devoured sandwiches at Phi Banh Mi. They had an amazing vegan option with spicy tofu! And the chilled soda water was perfect for the hot day. There would be no cardigans or scarves worn in Hoi An, oh no. It was back to normal Vietnam temperatures for us. One of the ladies who ran the place came over to recommend some sights, tours, and also told us of one of the best tailors in town (her sister). </div>
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With still a bit of time to kill before the check in time, we booked a table at a riverside bar for later, and meandered around the waterfront. The river had had swelled from the storm, and was encroaching on the road in places.<br />
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This was the bridge that led to the small island that we were staying on, called An Hoi. We managed to traverse pretty much the whole island in quite a short amount of time.<br />
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Interestingly, although there were plenty of hotels, spas, lantern workshops, and stores, the far side of the island was more rustic, with small shrines, fishermen leaning off wharves, and chickens scratching around in the dirt.<br />
At long last, we were able to check into our hotel and revel in some much needed showers. We napped to supplement our insufficient sleeper bus night, and then it was nearly time for drinks! </div>
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With the heat of the day diminishing, the crowds had taken to the streets, and were posing for selfies left, right, and centre. Women selling paper lanterns that could be sent out across the river were out in force to cater to the tourist mob, as were touters for restaurants, bars, spas, and boat rides. </div>
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Having pre-booked our spot at a bar, we got a table right by the window on the second floor and had a good view of the street below and the river. We ordered a 'bucket' of Mai Tai (and it really <i>was</i> a small pink bucket!), and were soon joined by our friends Bridget and Jance, whom we had come to know in Singapore. Bridget took one look at the bucket and ordered one as well. We chatted away for a good long while, and then when our drinks were finished we left to find dinner.<br />
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We dined at a restaurant called Morning Glory; I didn't eat any morning glory there, but regardless it was becoming one of my new favourite vegetables (unfortunately you can't seem to find it outside of Vietnam).<br />
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My fried aubergine was delicious, and we had French red wine to compliment the meal. French! Red wine! Not Da Lat red wine! We hadn't been able to find European wine sold by the glass for some time, so that was a nice change. Sleepy from great food, drink, and company, we returned to our hotel to fall into a deep slumber.<br />
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<b>Today's post was almost called: </b>City of a Hundred Thousand Lanterns</div>
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Necia Johnstonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10944621747519115421noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-77770166944493926.post-13292736063346113882018-03-16T15:16:00.000+00:002018-03-16T15:16:05.961+00:00Vietnam, day 15: Friendship Pho Breakfast!<div class="p1">
<i>Da Lat, Vietnam</i></div>
<i>28 May 2017</i><br />
Before heading out for another day's exploration, we packed up and checked out. We would be taking an overnight bus to Hoi An that evening, so we asked the front desk if we could leave our bags there for the day and they were very accommodating. The girl working at reception inquired as to whether we had eaten breakfast yet, and if she could take us out.<br />
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She brought us a few doors down to Rosemary Café, a quaint little place with the menus laid out on old records! We ordered drinks, and she popped out for a moment to order some pho from a nearby eatery (just for Yannick, as I don't usually eat breakfast, and she had eaten before work).<br />
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Her name was Tho, and we chatted for a while. She was practising her English on us, and was very good! Studying International Relations at university, she was looking forward to travelling to Singapore and Thailand. After a few minutes, a father with his small daughter entered the café with Yannick's pho - they had delivered! Tho was very sweet, and not only paid for our breakfast, but also complimented my eyes.<br />
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As we had heard tale of the many hikes that could be undertaken in the area, we visited the tourist information site to try to procure a map, but it was closed. We traipsed around the town inquiring at tour agencies, but they had no maps either. Instead, we decided to take a walk around Xuan Huong Lake.<br />
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There was also a road encircling the lake, so it wasn't exactly a nature walk like we had been hoping for, but the scenery was still pleasant. Many motorbikes zoomed down the road, often with two or three people aboard as is commonplace in Vietnam.<br />
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Sometimes people would park right by the water to have a snack or (in the case above) to shave using their motorbike's wing mirror.<br />
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Occasionally we happened across some fishing spots, but the lines didn't seem very active.<br />
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The far side of the lake (from the town centre) felt a bit more upscale, with a fancy restaurant and sculpted gardens. There was less hubbub on this side, though we continued to be passed by horse-drawn carriages bearing tourists along the waterfront. On our way back into the centre, I noticed that the sunscreen had detonated in my tote bag, but we mopped up the mess with tissues and found that luckily not all the sunscreen had ejected itself from the bottle, so we could remain burn-free. </div>
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Concluding our stroll, we stopped at Windmills Cafe for refreshments, which confidently claimed to be "the best coffee shop in Dalat".<br />
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The interior was very modern, with plenty of glass, potted plants and dangling light bulbs. The café was situated on the second floor, right above the tourist information office, and we had a great vantage point for people-watching while sipping our teas and coffees. </div>
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We noticed that the retaining wall across the street had been painted with an array of murals, and that it was a popular spot for touristic photos. So after we finished at Windmills, we went over to take some of our own photos! (Side note: look at me, wearing a <i>scarf</i> and <i>cardigan</i> in Vietnam - unheard of!)<br />
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For lunch we supped at Da Quy restaurant. Upon entering, we were surprised to find that we were the only patrons, and the lady who ran the place was eating with her family. I almost felt like I was intruding, but she quickly ushered us over to a table (and had to remove a child's stuffed toy from Yannick's seat - how cute!). The price was very reasonable so we ordered more dishes than was typical for us: morning glory, stir fried veggies with tofu, spring rolls, and chicken. Licking our lips after the delicious meal, we went in search of a supermarket to purchase snacks for the overnight bus.<br />
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Along the way, our attention was drawn by an adorable fluffy puppy curled up sleepily on a table outside a motorbike repair shop. I wanted to pet him so badly, but also didn't want to disturb him. Doesn't he look <i>so soft</i>?!<br />
After wandering for a while and not finding much, I decided to ask for help at a tourist agency. A group of people flocked together to discuss my question, and then pointed to a man who allegedly spoke English, but he was busy on the phone. Then, a kid rocked up on his bike and he told us where to go. They were so helpful, but unfortunately we couldn't find anything that appealed to us in the supermarket (blast our Western tastes).<br />
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Shortly afterwards, we happened across a random street with several fruit and veggie vendors, and bought a bag of grapes for the journey. Success!<br />
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It was a very atmospheric street; a bit dusty, with awnings hanging everywhere, and a kid playing around on his dad's parked motorbike. We agreed that this street should be mentioned in Lonely Planet, as it made for an interesting detour and wasn't far from the main roundabout in town.<br />
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Even the street that connected the main drag to the fruit and veggie backstreet was a sight in itself, with tubs of shellfish laying out, bright signs advertising for street food, and motorcyclists puttering along the cobblestones.<br />
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In one little corner store, there was a tiny child gazing out at the world with wonder and confusion. The shop was so small that the owner had taken to hanging loads of gum (and anything else they could dangle) from the ceiling.<br />
We then tested our luck at finding Voulez Vous café, but we ended up staring at a construction site and figured that either we had the wrong address or it had been demolished.<br />
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So, back to Rosemary Café we went! I was digging all the homemade sodas in Da Lat, which reminded me of the abundance of homemade lemonades in Prague. We ordered a passionfruit one and a blueberry one, and read for a little while.<br />
When our time was up, we returned to our hotel where we hugged Tho goodbye, and caught our shuttle to the bus station.<br />
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The bus was the same set up as the last overnight bus we had taken, although this time we were on the top bunks! Soon after setting off for Hoi An, darkness fell and a huge storm unleashed its fury upon us with lashings of rain and thunder. The roads were very narrow, and many busses were overtaking us. At one point we barely escaped a head-on collision with a lorry. We discovered afterwards that apparently these sleeper busses aren't exactly the safest option, and most foreign tourists opt for trains or private cars instead. Well...when in Rome? (But yeah nah, we're not getting on one of those again.)Necia Johnstonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10944621747519115421noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-77770166944493926.post-48866401745913878522018-03-14T15:15:00.000+00:002018-03-14T15:15:01.738+00:00Vietnam, day 14: Free Skirts and a Buttockful of Modesty<div class="p1">
<i>Da Lat, Vietnam</i></div>
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<i>27 May 2017</i><br />
Hopping off our overnight bus, we had arrived at a time when only flower sellers were out and about. </div>
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We briefly went a-wandering in the hopes of finding a café to relax in for a while, but nothing was open.<br />
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Instead, we found a park where we could sit and book a hotel, as we had not been prepared enough to do so beforehand. Unlike much of Vietnam, Da Lat is quite temperate and I needed to keep my cardigan on! I could count the times I had previously worn my cardigan in Vietnam on one elbow. Despite the clement temperature, the humidity levels remained very high.<br />
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After successfully finding an available hotel with a 24-hour front desk, we dropped off our bags and prepared for the day by finding a nearby café in which to bolster our spirits. For me, that meant green tea and fruit. As we carelessly hadn't researched activities or sights before arriving in Da Lat, we took that opportunity to do so and quickly decided on taking the gondola to Truc Lam Monastery.<br />
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After walking to the gondola office, we hopped on an available capsule and off we zoomed above the treetops. The views were incredible, and we could see for ages across the beautiful forest.<br />
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A gondola staff member had happened to share a ride with us, and offered to take our photo!<br />
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Disembarking from our treetop vehicle, we discovered that the entrance to the monastery was super touristy. On one side of the road was a giant carpark full of tour busses, and on the other was a long row of stalls selling food and tacky souvenirs. This was quite off-putting and we considered not even going to the monastery after all, worrying that the interior would be just as bad, but as there was no entry fee we pressed on through the selfie-mad masses.<br />
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Before we could go further, I was required to don a buttock-scarf in order to shield my sinful legs from holy eyes.<br />
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Despite the kitsch-heavy entrance, the monastery complex was quite nice, and we enjoyed wandering around the different buildings and gardens. </div>
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Even with the crowds, there was a sense of tranquility among the butterflies and Buddhist monks that floated around the grounds. </div>
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Returning the modesty skirt, we strolled down to a nearby lake, which was also very popular among tourists (notably those who seek out swan boats). It seemed to be a so-called romantic location, as there were photographers capturing brides and bridegrooms' special days, but to me it came off as altogether too cheesy for my liking. </div>
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Instead of catching the gondola back into town, we decided to walk. Unfortunately, the road proved less than ideal for pedestrians, having no footpath, and we ended up scrabbling our way up an earthen bank into the forest to ease our fears of accidentally being run over. It was quite mossy, and much more pleasant than the road.<br />
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Eventually, we left the forest and came upon a road lined with strawberry farms. Da Lat, with its particular climate, is famous for its strawberry production. We found some very reasonably priced berries from one farm, and a packet of strawberry lollies from a shop.<br />
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Desiring a break for our weary feet, we stopped at a café for drinks before continuing. Kan Coffee had yummy passionfruit and lime sodas, and of course Yannick had to fulfil his daily ca phe sua da fix. The menu had a quote I find very true, being a tea fan: "If you are cold, tea will warm you. If you are too heated, it will cool you. If you are depressed, it will cheer you. If you are excited, it will calm you."<br />
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Pressing onwards, we walked through a residential area which was hilly and felt strangely Mediterranean. </div>
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There were loads of little run down houses clustered together, with very steep driveways where scooters were parked haphazardly.<br />
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Our last attraction for the day was a place called Crazy House. Originally a personal project of the architect, Dang Viet Nga, Crazy House was opened to the public in 1990 for sightseeing and as a guesthouse due to increasing debt. It remains uncompleted, with works ongoing (scheduled completion is for the year 2020). It's a bit difficult to describe succinctly, but basically it's a large complex of weird structures joined by a spider-themed courtyard, winding staircases and precarious suspended pathways.<br />
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Dang Viet Nga lives on the premises, continuing to design the various structures. She has cited Antoni Gaudí as one of her influences, though I have to admit that I much prefer Gaudí's work. Overall, the construction seemed a bit cheap, with poured concrete and painted plaster. </div>
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After spending the afternoon napping, we headed out again in the evening for a nice restaurant meal. Clearly, some sort of event was taking place in the town centre and there were hordes of people! Many were feasting on delicacies fried up at roadside carts, so perhaps the crowd was a nightly dining experience. Instead of joining them, we visited Ganesh Indian Restaurant because I was craving Indian food. Inside, it was much more peaceful and we tucked into a delicious chana masala curry with vegan garlic naan on the side! Yannick also ordered a red wine that was produced in Da Lat, which we found to be odd: not sharp or strong, but different than any wine we had tasted and not in a good way. </div>
Necia Johnstonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10944621747519115421noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-77770166944493926.post-9616321609936996372018-02-24T18:33:00.000+00:002018-02-24T18:33:03.088+00:00Vietnam, day 13: A Boatload of Pineapples!<div class="p1">
<i>Da Lat, Vietnam</i><br />
<i>26 May, 2017</i></div>
Bleary-eyed, we waited in the hotel lobby for our tour guide to collect us. It was still pitch black outside. When he arrived, he introduced himself as Toby, and looked much more awake than we did. He led us down to the waterfront, where a few other tourists were waiting, and shortly our cute little boat pulled up manned by a friendly woman.<br />
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Gliding along the river, we watched the clouds slowly light up and turn from yellow to blue. Fishermen had already been at their nets for hours. A small boat was puttering from one vessel to the next, offering hot tea and coffee to all.<br />
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At such an early hour and with a slight breeze from our forward motion, the temperature was ideal. Before long, the sky had completely brightened and we had reached the large floating market Cai Rang.<br />
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Some boats were tiny, with just a few bags of goods to sell, and some were huge with what looked like hundreds of kilos of produce. In order to easily see what each vendor was offering, tall bamboo poles jutted from each boat with their wares tied to them. Pineapples, sweet potatoes, cabbages, and more! Some of the smaller boats were manned by what Toby called resellers: people who would buy wholesale goods and then bring them back to shore to sell at a higher price to shops.<br />
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Many of the ships had fluffy canine mascots!<br />
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Toby, as well as providing us with a wealth of information about Can Tho and the floating markets, asked us a lot of questions as he seemed very interested in our lives. He would catch my attention by calling me "Neesa" or sometimes "Nasi", and asked things like if my hair was its natural colour or dyed. He knew very well how much tourists liked to get photos of themselves, so he frequently beckoned us to pose for some.<br />
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As well as the goings-on in the river, the edges of the water showed us so much of Can Tho life. Houses were jumbled up along the riverbanks on stilts, and we would see little snippets: a boy brushing his teeth, a woman doing the washing up, a gaggle of children playing in the water. Some houses were minuscule, more like shacks, and some had holes in the walls in lieu of windows. It was shocking to see residents utilising the river water in so many ways considering how polluted it was. There was so much rubbish that often our boat's motor would get jammed, and the helmswoman would swivel it around out of the water for Toby to hack away at with a pair of scissors to remove the offending debris. Plastic bag cloggings were commonplace. At one point, Toby attempted to distract us by pointing out a nearby coconut tree but when our attention wavered he asked us to not look. We could tell that the flotsam must have been something disturbing, and of course our imaginations ran wild with the possibilities.<br />
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<span style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);">After filling up the tank at a floating petrol station, we carried on down the river.</span><br />
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The motors of small boats like ours looked quite crochety and perhaps as though they had once belonged to a lawnmower. One boat passed us that had such an unhappy motor that smoke was furiously being belched out, and as it sped into the distance, the brown cloud the motor produced completely engulfed the boat.</div>
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<span style="font-family: "helvetica neue light" , , "helvetica" , "arial" , sans-serif;">Cruising for a while along the river, we eventually reached Phong Dien floating market, which was a smaller and more rural version of Cai Rang.</span></div>
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The boats were smaller, and there were far fewer of them. There was also a higher proportion of supermarket-type vendors, who would sell bottled sauces, flours, cleaning supplies and other household items.<br />
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However, there were still many boats offering produce, including the internationally feared durian. The stink!<br />
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As well as a hot beverages boat, here there was a lady zipping around serving steaming pho to those in need of breakfast. Instead of eating on the boat, we had the luxury of docking and being seated at a small dining establishment.<br />
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We were supplied with pho (because who wouldn't want soup first thing in the morning?), green tea and a bag of delicious banana and kumara crisps that were sprinkled with sesame seeds.<br />
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Having filled our bellies, we set off again. This time, we strayed from the main river and drifted calmly through narrower waterways that were heavily seasoned with dense green foliage. We spotted several small houses, and were shown an array of fruit trees dotting the riverbanks. After a little while, Toby chopped up a watermelon and pineapple that he had bought from Cai Rang market and we proceeded to drip delectable juices onto our legs as we devoured the fruit. I feel that eating on a rocking boat is a skill that must be practised. Our helmswoman had quite the talent for weaving ornaments from coconut leaves, and she kindly presented us with a pair of crafted grasshoppers and a rose.<br />
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Our next stop was at a rice noodle factory, where we were shown the grinding of the rice, the steaming process and the laying out of the rice papers to dry. </div>
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It wasn't exactly the most hygienic, and one of the drying rice papers had become the final resting place of a crash-landed dragonfly.<br />
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I was given the opportunity to feed a series of large rice papers into a shredder. Rice noodle is made!<br />
Before departing, we gave some ear scratches to two adorable puppies who clearly were spoilt by tourists lavishing them with attention.<br />
Back in the boat we went, and retraced our path all the way back to the main canal and past Cai Rang market. It began to rain a little, so Toby hoisted up the retractable awning to cover us, and tucked us into a tarpaulin blanket. He gave us more pineapple, and even sang us a song! It was almost like he was our parent for the morning. </div>
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The rain grew heavier and heavier until the roar of the skies became somewhat deafening. Millions of raindrops smashed into the surface of the water, sending up tiny splashes all around us. Bidding farewell to Toby and our helmswoman (with thanks and tips), we hustled our way back to our hotel knowing that there was no point in trying to avoid getting wet.<br />
We showered, checked out, and made a beeline for Mat Cua Cafe for drinks and snacks. The cafe's set up was quaint, with cushions on the floor surrounding low tables. I became so sleepy that I strongly considered laying down on said cushions and taking a power nap, but cafes are not for sleeping in and I managed to keep myself awake. Shortly before we left, a few other patrons trickled in and one played the guitar for everyone's enjoyment.<br />
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With hours still to quash before our overnight bus, we took a walk down the road and selected another cafe to hang out at. This one had large comfy sofas and yummy peach iced tea. Yannick tried a cacau da for the first time (similar to a chocolate milk) and thought it was good, though not nearly so good as ca phe sua da.<br />
Though we weren't terribly hungry, we figured that we had better find some dinner before boarding our bus, so we embarked on a wild restaurant chase. We never did catch one, because we couldn't make up our mind and ran out of time for the whole restaurant fanfare. Instead, we found a street vendor who was whipping up some pikelets, and also purchased apples and Oreos from a corner shop. We were picked up in a shuttle, and I became sandwiched between an elderly couple. I felt a bit awkward, as it was a tight squeeze, but both of them were giving me super nice smiles. The lady was very warm and smelled faintly of coffee breath. She said to me "Da Lat?", inquiring as to our next destination, and I replied "Da Lat" in the affirmative. Once the shuttle dropped us off at the bus station, we stowed our backpacks in the storage area and went to find our seats.<br />
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The sleeping bus was a new experience for us, and we were glad that we are short people. The seat-beds wouldn't be conducive to those of a Slavic height. We were given plastic bags in which to keep our shoes so that they didn't dirty the bus or beds. After a few minutes, I saw the elderly couple from the shuttle look around for me, sending over little waves and making sure that I was settled in. The journey was actually much more comfortable than I expected as the seat-beds were padded well, we were provided with blankets, and the bus stopped every now and then for bathroom breaks. There were a few cons; the main two being that occasionally bright street lamps would shine in, and there was one snorer. Overall though, we spent the time reading and sleeping and not being too bothered. </div>
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Necia Johnstonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10944621747519115421noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-77770166944493926.post-87819217274890997032018-02-16T00:14:00.001+00:002018-02-16T00:14:30.439+00:00Vietnam, day 12: Didn’t Think I Could Barter, But I Can Tho<div class="p1">
<i>Ben Tre, Vietnam</i><br />
<i>25 May, 2017</i></div>
Having just experienced such an eventful day, we awoke on the 25th and decided to go a more restful route.<br />
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We lazed about at the hotel, and once we were feeling up to it, took a walk into town. Along the way an incense-making operation was spotted, and no suspicious individuals trailed us. Having followed the advice of Ken, the hotel owner, we made a beeline for a cluster of ATMs along the main road. I found the ATM that Ken had advised us to use (the one that would allow you to take out the most dong), even with Yannick trying to convince me otherwise due to his gut instinct to "go to the shiny one". However, the ATM wasn't cooperating. It informed us that the maximum withdrawal was 3.5million dong, so we entered that amount. But it popped up with a message stating that we should enter an amount less than the maximum, before restarting to the greeting screen. The next time we tried 3 million, but again it didn't like that one bit. Exasperated by the heat (we were both literally dripping with sweat) and by the frustrating machine, we gave up and pressed the 2 million dong preset button and it finally worked!<br />
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Back at the hotel, we took our time packing up and then caught a taxi to the bus station for our journey to Can Tho (we wanted to make the most of our expedition into the Mekong Delta and had heard grand tales of the floating markets there). Before departure, some ladies came aboard selling snacks, and some funky fish was loaded into the cargo bay. Funky to the max. During the bus ride, a dude a couple of seats ahead of me was picking his nose. Like...the <i>whole</i> time. For hours. There can't have been anything left after a few minutes, so I think it must have been some sort of subconscious nervous behaviour. I couldn't look away. Like...the <i>whole</i> time. It was disgustingly fascinating.<br />
Upon arrival in Can Tho, we approached some taxi drivers who tried to charge us 100,000 dong for a ride to our hotel. Impressively, Yannick used his bargaining skills to cut the cost in half! I didn't think his tactics could be so effective, but I was proven wrong in the best way.<br />
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While checking in to our hotel, we were informed that we had been upgraded to the VIP 2* room! (We never did find out that the asterisk was for.) I'm not sure what our original room would have been like, but the VIP 2* room was very spacious and boasted many windows.<br />
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Darkness fell, and we returned to the reception desk to arrange a tour for the next morning. Though we could have headed down to the river ourselves and found a boat, our Vietnamese wasn't exactly up to scratch and we decided that a tour with an English-speaking guide would be the best option.<br />
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Dinner was a simple affair at a restaurant a little away from the waterfront (where there were far too flashy restaurants that sold mainly seafood). At the top of the photo you can see a small shrine on a loft-like level of the restaurant, and beyond that was the family's living quarters. We traipsed back to our hotel without seeing much else of Can Tho, as we had a 5am start the next morning!<br />
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<b>Today's post was almost called:</b> The Infinite Nostril</div>
Necia Johnstonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10944621747519115421noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-77770166944493926.post-28549610809917931152018-02-08T21:02:00.002+00:002018-02-08T21:03:55.676+00:00Vietnam, day 11: Jungle Cruise - Sun-Dappled Canals of the Mekong<div class="p1">
<i>Ben Tre, Vietnam</i></div>
<i>24 May 2017</i><br />
Before going on our tour, we had time for some breakfast (of which the mango was succulent and flavoursome), and a quick whip around the hotel owner's museum: a small collection of old cameras and plastic casings so that they could be used underwater.<br />
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Right on time, we walked across the street with our tour guide Hong to the river.<br />
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The sunrise still lingering among the clouds, we boarded our boat.<br />
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Along with Hong and the skipper, we were the only people aboard. Our own personal tour!<br />
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Very shortly we saw signs of life along the river, and Hong explained them all to us. One man had gone out in a small boat and would duck under the surface, scooping clay up in his hands and deposit it onto his boat. He would then stomp on it, making it more compact so he could fit as much as possible into the limited area. There were also several fishermen drawing in their nets, and people dredging sand.<br />
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At several points along the riverbank, Hong pointed out structures made out of green mesh that were designed to trap shellfish. Inside one, we spotted a chicken pecking around for any scraps.<br />
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Apparently as it was low tide, we were to visit a different coconut factory than the usual one for the tour. Though it was very difficult to find a spot to jump onto dry land and clamber over the discarded coconut shells, it felt like this factory was in a way more authentically presented as they see fewer tourists, so it was well worth the unstable terrain.<br />
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Each stage of the process had a specific area. The first step was to split off the thick outer fibre from the hard shell inside. This was done by forcing the coconut at speed onto a sharp spear-like tool that jutted from the floor. It not only looked dangerous, but Hong said that accidents could occur, leaving workers with cut hands or arms if they weren't careful. Workers are not paid by time, but by quantity. The faster you worked, the more money you would receive, which of course made the process more dangerous.<br />
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The next stage was to cut the coconuts in half so that the flesh inside could be accessed. Here we saw a woman tallying up the completed work to assess payment. There was also a small boy who approached us, hugged Yannick and offered us some of his snacks. Hong said that one of the guys asked how old I was, and she translated that I was 26. He was surprised, and said that I looked 16! Flattery is universal.<br />
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The next area of the factory was where women removed the flesh of the coconut and shaved off the coarse brown skin from the outside. After that was the final stage, where the flesh was washed. When taking photos of the women, they joked that they weren't attractive enough to be photographed. </div>
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After a short jaunt in the boat, we reached our second stop: a coconut candy making operation. Melting down coconut milk, sugar, and malt, the sticky concoction was transferred to an indented board to harden into strips. From there, a worker would use a huge terrifying cleaver to segment the strips into bite-sized candies, which would be individually wrapped and popped into plastic bags for sale. We bought a few different flavours, including chocolate (which I thought tasted the same as the original flavour, but Yannick assured me tasted awful), pandan, and peanut which was by far the best.<br />
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As we were being shown around, there was the cutest little roly poly puppy knocking about, licking our toes, wagging his tail and snacking on discarded coconut shavings. (Hong told him "That's why you're fat.") Taking a seat around a small table, we were presented with a platter with perfectly selected ripe fruit and chilli salt. I revelled in the perfect mango, but couldn't get on board with my first ever sampling of the longan: a small fruit similar to a rambutan or lychee that was sweet with a jelly-like consistency.<br />
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Instead of returning to the boat, we were picked up in a heavy duty tuktuk and driven along a jungle path to reach the mat weaving workshop.<br />
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Here, long strands of dried grass were woven into sleeping mats.<br />
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The process of weaving a single bed-sized mat took about an hour and a half, and each worker would receive around $1 per mat. It was clearly laborious work, and to see elderly women crouched for long periods of time was a little saddening. </div>
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As it was approaching lunchtime, we hopped back on the tuktuk and were delivered to a homestead where we were to be fed and watered. </div>
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Hong had arranged for all my meals to be vegan, which was wonderfully accommodating. We enjoyed spring rolls, banh xeo (crispy pancakes), a tofu and mushroom dish with coconut rice, and Yannick also had a fried elephant ear fish (a specialty of the Mekong Delta). While there were no other patrons of the restaurant, we were joined by a fluffy dog and a scraggly cat who would occasionally gaze at us longingly for scraps. </div>
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As we had travelled inland slightly from the main river, we embarked on a brief trip in a rowboat in order to get back to our usual boat. The sun decided to make an appearance, and Hong protectively supplied me and Yannick with hats.<br />
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This smaller waterway was quite beautiful, with sunlight shining through overhanging palm fronds. Devastatingly, half of Ben Tre is expected to be flooded by 2030 (according to the Climate Change Research Institute at Can Tho University). It's heartbreaking to know that places like the Mekong Delta will look very different in the near future, and you have to wonder what will become of the people who live here.<br />
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Having seen many boats with eyes painted onto the bow, we asked as to their purpose. Hong told us that many years ago, crocodiles lived in the river. As boats were piled high with goods, they sank lower into the water and crocodiles could climb aboard. To remedy this, eyes were painted to scare off the predators, making them believe that the boats were large and angry creatures.<br />
Hong was such an informative and helpful guide, and it was such a great experience to be shown around by her and learn a bit about her life: she lived with her husband's family, and was attending university part-time. She had recently become pregnant and was saving up so that she could afford to give birth in the hospital rather than at home.<br />
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After a dip in the hotel pool and relaxing in the hammocks for a while, we walked into the centre of Ben Tre. At one point, a man greeted us and then proceeded to follow us at a short distance, muttering to himself. When we had crossed the bridge and were on a main road, he still hadn't ceased trailing us, so I went all Jason Bourne and said "let's lose him in the marketplace". We ducked into the covered market and zigzagged our way around the vendors at a brisk pace. Emerging from a different edge of the market, we found that we had been successful! I suppose my spy training is almost concluded.<br />
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After a trip to the supermarket (where the cashier practised his English skills on us), we headed over to the night market. Though we didn't find anything we fancied for dinner, we had fun taking some longer exposure photos. As we were strolling along the esplanade, a man pulled up on a motorbike and jumped off to chat with us (while his family looked on from the back of the bike). Apparently he knew Ken, the hotel owner, and had been shown around by him when he and his family had first arrived in Ben Tre years prior. Concluding our chat and continuing on down the road, we spotted a pizzeria and figured we'd try our luck. We knew that the food wouldn't be authentically Italian by any means, but we felt like a change in cuisine for the evening. Though the food was bland, we helped it along with a dousing of chilli oil. The waitress was very young, and spoke near flawless English.<br />
On the walk back to the hotel, we crossed a bridge with fishermen leaning over the railings, and could hear resident under-bridge bats squeaking away. </div>
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Necia Johnstonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10944621747519115421noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-77770166944493926.post-18827669040860557412018-01-30T21:53:00.000+00:002018-01-30T21:53:11.232+00:00Vietnam, day 10: I’ll Eat My Hat! Kaboom. <div class="p1">
<i>Con Son, Vietnam</i></div>
<i>23 May 2017</i><br />
With a little time to kill before our flight, we returned to Nice Cafe, where we sat upstairs to enjoy the view and chill. Then we packed up our belongings and checked out of the hotel, picking up a packet of hat bang while we still had the chance.<br />
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Hat bang is a specialty of the Con Dau Islands. All along the footpaths, you see clusters of almonds laid out in the sun in preparation. These are not normal almonds, but Indian or Malabar almonds, which are thinner than any almond I've seen before.<br />
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There was an option to purchase a savoury version of hat bang, or a sweet version, and after a short deliberation we picked the latter as Yannick and I both have quite a large sweet tooth. We snacked on the delicious sugared almonds in the tiny airport as we awaited our flight to Ho Chi Minh City. Throughout our Vietnam trip and beyond, I would sometimes randomly exclaim "hat bang!" because I liked the sound of it.<br />
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Our plane was small, and we ascended the stairs behind a cute old man in a beret. The flight was uneventful, and once we landed in HCMC, we called an Uber to take us to the bus station. Our driver took us through some interesting backstreets, where we saw a plethora of fabric stores, a Baskin and Robins, and some guys with large jars of water that held Siamese fighting fish. The Uber driver pulled over at one point to collect his takeaway lunch to eat after he dropped us off.<br />
The bus station was far more confusing than it ought to be, but after some bumbling we ended up with two reasonably priced tickets to Ben Tre. We found the correct bus without much difficulty, and soon were on the road. Along the way we listened to audiobooks and gazed out at the scenery, which became increasingly more swampy as we approached the Mekong Delta.<br />
Upon arrival in Ben Tre, we quickly booked a hotel and caught a taxi directly there. What made that particular hotel stand out was that it was run by a Kiwi guy, and we figured a little reminder of home would be nice. We knew that we had been delivered to the right place when we saw a large sign hanging from the front of the building reading "Go All Blacks!" We met the owner and his advanced age proved to be a significant barrier to his comprehension of Yannick's job description. Although we explained to the best of our ability, it seemed that he thought Yannick was some kind of mix between an IT specialist and someone who personally created 'The Lord of the Rings'. We chatted for a while and found out that he was originally from Kerikeri. He introduced us to his Vietnamese wife and the student who worked for them part-time. They were all so friendly. Although we normally avoid going on predesigned tours, they gave us loads of information on their different tours and we could tell that the places visited would be inaccessible to us if we headed out on our own. We booked the tour for the next morning, and eagerly awaited seeing a coconut factory.<br />
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The student was kind enough to write a translation note for me regarding my dietary preferences, which would make eating out much easier. The original note said that I don't eat MSG, which I asked her to remove because MSG is delicious! And it's vegan, so I figured also restricting MSG might mean missing out on the only vegan option at some places. Hilariously, if you type the Vietnamese phrase for "I do not eat meat" into Google Translate, it pops out as "I am not safe", though if you add in the accents it translates correctly.<br />
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We couldn't miss out on having a swim in the pool, even though it was much colder than I was anticipating. I greatly enjoyed cruising around on an inflatable. After a nice warm shower, we read on hammocks for the afternoon, and then were shown a large mural map by the student and given directions on how to get to a nearby recommended restaurant. We were provided with an umbrella and a torch, as there weren't many street lights, and off we went for some grub. The directions were straightforward, and much of the walk was along the riverside. Some dogs barked at us, and we saw a dead snake and many fallen coconuts.<br />
Arriving at Garden Restaurant, we were surprised by the size of the establishment, which had several different seating areas and a small bridge over a narrow manmade canal. There were hardly any other patrons, and our waiter was weirdly attentive. He handed us only one menu, which we had to share, and stared at us expectantly. However, he didn't wait at all long and kept interrupting by suggesting dishes for us, not allowing us to ponder the menu in peace. </div>
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I ended up simply following the waiter's advice and ordering a yummy dish with mushrooms, veggies and noodles, as well as a plate of fried tofu. This was far too much food, but the price was surprisingly cheap.<br />
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Yannick clutched a freshly macheted coconut as we waited for his hotpot to get to temperature. He made the mistake of nibbling on a birdseye chilli, which was far too spicy on its own. Annoyingly for how soupy the hotpot was, he wasn't given a spoon. After eating our fill, we walked back along the river, this time passing by a very noisy karaoke shack. The participants seemed oddly nonchalant in their singing, yet gestured for us to come join them and I got the feeling that they were having a ball of a time despite their lacklustre performances. </div>
Necia Johnstonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10944621747519115421noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-77770166944493926.post-47314430274317358662018-01-25T17:57:00.000+00:002018-01-25T17:57:34.023+00:00Vietnam, day 9: Coral and Cauliflower - Buffet Beneath the Waves<div class="p1">
<i>Con Son, Vietnam</i></div>
<i>22 May 2017</i><br />
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All night a storm raged around the Con Dau Islands. We would fall asleep in a lull of rain, only to be woken shortly by deafening raindrops pelting the roof. Even when the storm moved away, and we could count eight seconds between the flash of lightning and the peal of thunder, we could feel the building rock. For all our good intentions of going to bed early, the rain coupled with noisy hotel guests banging about the corridor at ungodly hours meant that we didn't achieve a perfect eight hours' sleep. Tired as we were, we were excited to go snorkelling, so we threw on our clothes and rushed down to the shoreline. </div>
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Though it had been hours since any rain, the storm had an impact on our day. The seas were choppy (though thankfully I didn't experience any seasickness), and the island that we had been planning to visit was swapped for the larger Hon Bay Canh.<br />
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The boat captain told us of how sea turtles laid eggs all around Con Dau and Bay Canh boasts one of Vietnam's largest turtle conservations. During nesting seasons, forest rangers work day and night to protect the turtles as unfortunately, poaching is still an issue.<br />
Once the boat was anchored, we were given snorkelling masks and sent out into the water! With the waves, it was a bit disconcerting at first, as I was afraid that the water would go over my snorkel and I would inhale liquid. I needn't have been afraid, as the waves weren't that large and Yannick helped me though the rise in panic. Before long, we were floating around and gazing at all the different fish and coral. Another of the storm effects was that some sand was tossed up from the seabed, meaning that in places visibility was murky and the bright colours of the coral didn't stand out as much as it should have. However, we did find some really good patches where the colours stood out like neon, and even in the muted areas, the experience was brilliant. Coral sprouted from all over the sea floor in so many different shapes and colours. One of the most common types looked exactly like a brain, and was named accordingly. There was also a type of coral that looked like a mushroom, another that was super pointy, and one that looked like a cauliflower. We saw hundreds of fish: in schools, on their own nibbling at algae, flitting in and out of coral, big fish, tiny fish, and even one jet black fish that I followed for a while like chasing a shadow. Yannick hoped to catch sight of a stingray but missed out. We saw sea cucumbers instead (which I initially took for knobbly logs).<br />
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Back aboard, we snacked on fruit and drank tea and coffee. We chatted with the English guy who ran the company with his wife, and also the two other snorkellers for the day - Phong and Nicole. It was lovely to have such a small group, and I felt very grateful for picking Rainbow Divers over another company. (We saw another boat pull up near us at one point that looked like it could fit a couple of dozen passengers, and that would have been a much less personal experience.) We chatted about our housesitting days and where we were from. Phong, who was visiting from the US, told us about how his parents were from Can Tho and fled Vietnam during the American War. They were housed in a Malaysian refugee camp for a time before being granted placement in the US. Wanting to try out Phi Yen restaurant now that we had discovered its top secret location, we invited Phong and Nicole to dinner that night.<br />
Before heading back to Con Son, we stopped once more at another snorkelling spot. I was exhausted, so stayed in the boat, but Yannick went out for another paddle around. When we found ourselves back on dry land, we beelined for the hotel and I passed out immediately, in desperate need of a nap. I was very unaccustomed to swimming, or any other exercise apart from light walking.<br />
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In the evening we went for a wander of the town. It was our last full day on the island and we were keen to take it all in. We walked past the square where the market is held everyday, and then visited Villa Maison one last time for the amazing passionfruit juice.<br />
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On the way to the waterfront, we passed through the main intersection in the town, which has one of the only traffic lights on the island. We sat on the concrete retaining wall by the pier for a spell, until the biting bugs became too annoying, and then wandered through a park.<br />
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Once darkness fell, it was time to meet for dinner. I ordered a chanh da (lemon juice, sugar and water) that was becoming a favourite of mine, and as usual, the staff attentiveness was lacklustre. As for the food, it was fairly unimpressive aside from a hella moreish plate of garlicky morning glory. For dessert, Phong led us in a hunt for chè, aka dessert. I was unconvinced that we would find a designated chè place, considering how small the town was, but lo and behold! A chè place was found. I don't think I'll ever get over having beans or sweetcorn in dessert... They ordered two chès, with mung beans and coconut milk and jellies. I was too full to partake, but Yannick said they were surprisingly tasty. Phong spoke a bit of Vietnamese, and was able to teach us a few handy pronunciations and phrases, such as "do you have vegetarian food?" With full bellies and heavy hearts, we returned to our hotel, our last evening on Con Son spent. </div>
Necia Johnstonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10944621747519115421noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-77770166944493926.post-20510046160484519002018-01-17T20:25:00.000+00:002018-01-17T20:25:00.724+00:00Vietnam, day 8: Consulting the Coracle - Prophecies of Cocktails<div class="p1">
<i>Con Son, Vietnam</i></div>
<i>21 May 2017</i><br />
As it was our second-to-last full day on the island, we decided to get our asses into gear and look into going snorkelling, having heard that the Con Dau Islands were some of the best locations to do so in the world.<br />
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But we couldn't start our day without a visit to a nice cafe! Literally. Its name was Nice Cafe. And it lived up to its name. My peach iced tea was delicious, and Yannick got his coffee fix in the form of ca phe sua da, one of his all time favourite beverages. Our table was upstairs on a balcony overlooking the main street and all the way to the distant mountains. A half coconut shell served as our table's ashtray, and the only other patron at that time was a soldier in uniform.<br />
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And before finding a suitable snorkelling company, we had to drop by the market to purchase some fresh fruit for the day. Yummy! I missed having a kitchen, or even just a knife and cutting board, and seeing those juicy mangos was torture without the means to eat them. I had bought one when we were staying at a hotel before, and peeled the skin off with my fingernails, digging into it with my teeth, but as you can imagine it was too messy an experience to repeat. </div>
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Then we wanted to ensure that we saw the tiger cages with ample time before they closed, so we sped on over, quickly dipping our feet in the sea on the way. The tide had washed away evidence of the rambutan feast that we had seen the other day, but one of the funny round boats had washed ashore. Apparently the name for these is "coracles". </div>
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The French were the first to use Con Dau as a place to house prisoners, and built the first prison on Con Son in 1861. In 1940, the French constructed what are now called the "Tiger Cages", a series of cells that are now live in infamy. The Americans continued to use the cages during the American War, to incarcerate political prisoners from North Vietnam. The cages were deliberately built away from the main prison, though an alleyway, and were not known to the outside world for some time.<br />
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The cages were built at the bottom floor of a two-story building, with a long walkway above so that guards could poke prisoners with long sticks through the bars, and throw down quicklime to burn their flesh and blind them. The photos above show the two main buildings in the complex: the one above having been reconstructed (note the barrels of lime), and the one below showing the semi-destroyed tiger cages.<br />
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In 1970, Tom Harkin, a US congressional aide travelled to Con Son along with a few other government representatives and a translator, having been told of these nightmarish tiger cages by a former prisoner who was held there. He had been given very specific instructions on how to find it (including to traverse a vegetable patch behind the main prison), otherwise it may not have been found for many more years. They saw the horrendous conditions: prisoners with burns, sores, and mutilations calling out for water. In July 1970, Life Magazine published an article by Harkin on the tiger cages and sometime later they were torn apart, the prisoners moved to other prisons or to mental institutions.<br />
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Having been recommended the company Dive! Dive! Dive! by a fellow hotel guest, we wandered over to where Google Maps claimed it to be, only to find Phi Yen! Why, that was the very restaurant that we had been looking for the night before! Oh Google, why you so wrong? Phi Yen was not only a restaurant, but also a hotel, and a sign for snorkelling led us inside the lobby. The price of the options was rather steep, so we left with the notion that we would shop around. Just down the road we saw an identical sign, this time leading into a shop called Rainbow Divers. A note on the door read that they would be back later, so we decided to rest for a while at An Hai beach. However, we only walked a few meters down the road when an English couple on a moped pulled up next to us asking if we were looking for Rainbow Divers. It turned out that they were the owners and quoted us a much more reasonable price for a day out snorkelling. We agreed to return to the shop at 18:00 to sort out the particulars.<br />
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With an abundance of choices for beachside cafes, we selected the one that we had walked through for beach access on our first day on the island. We drank cocktails and made great reading progress, with a spectacular view to look out on. If that's not paradise, I don't know what is.<br />
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It so happens that that cafe changed my life and made the Mai Tai my new favourite cocktail (though since then, every Mai Tai I've had has been different and never as good as that first one and I'm constantly chasing the thrill of that first high).<br />
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That evening, we bought water and Oreos at a corner store, returned to Rainbow Divers to plan out our snorkelling trip for the next day, and then had dinner at the waterfront where everyone on the island goes swimming as the sun sets. Yannick ate meat grilled in betel leaves, and I got some corn on the cob and roasted sweet potato. We had a quiet night in after that, as we would have an early start in the morning. </div>
Necia Johnstonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10944621747519115421noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-77770166944493926.post-6506347585002056282018-01-11T11:09:00.000+00:002018-01-11T11:09:56.797+00:00Vietnam, day 7: Two Tickets To the Reptilian Gun Show<div class="p1">
<i>Con Son, Vietnam</i></div>
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<i>20 May 2017</i><br />
Sipping on freshly blended juices and sweet iced teas had quickly become our morning ritual, and Infiniti Cafe was one of our top spots for its rustic charm and friendly (though very hands-off) staff. </div>
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If you wrack your brain hard enough, you may just recall that Con Son is an island. I know, right?! Crazy! #islandlife. And even though Yannick's sunburn had not yet released its fiery talons from his back and shoulders, I had a strong hankering for the beach after missing it for one whole day. So, we held a Google Image Search session over our breakfast drinks in order to work out if the beach near the airport had trees under which Yannick could shield his scalded flesh. Perhaps it's due to the relatively low visitor count to the Con Dau Islands, but if you search for a beach or prison by name (and trust me, those are certainly the two things you will search for the most here), you're sure to find a confusing melange of photos that cannot possibly be the same beach or prison. Therefore, you have to scroll until your tired fingers can scroll no longer, and attempt to ascertain how many of the photos look to be the same place. This kind of research in Vietnam is often determined by a very small margin. And in fact, I once looked up a restaurant in Hanoi and scrolled through dozens of photos of meat, convinced that the restaurant was lying when it declared itself to be vegetarian, only for Yannick to assure me that it must be some sort of bizarre smear campaign (and indeed it did prove to be a restaurant catering solely to herbivores). But getting back on track, we were about 65% sure that our intended beach for the day would have trees available as sun shields, so we hired a motorbike from our hotel and set off. This one worked a bit more smoothly than the one we'd had the day before, except for a mildly alarming engine light that signalled to us that something we couldn't hope to fathom was amis in the deep crevasses of the bike.<br />
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Along the way, we passed by the entrance to the Six Senses Resort, which we had heard whispered tales of. Apparently Angelina Jolie had rented out five of the resort's beachside villas in 2011 to contain her entire sprawling family. Another tasty nugget of info I picked up from an online review was that the resort had a high street of sorts, which was where a few eateries could be found, including an ice cream parlour that provides unlimited scoops to guests. Unlimited ice cream!<br />
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As we pulled off the main road, we found that the dirt path that led to the beach was muddy and puddle-laden due to heavy rain in the night. As Yannick had only taken up motorbike piloting two days before and was still firmly in the 'learner driver' category, we decided that it would be too much of a risk to ride the path. Instead, we pulled over in a jungly patch of foliage and set out on foot. Yannick, taking a leaf out of a Victorian lady's book, walked with an umbrella over his head to protect his delicate skin. It's never fun to be badly sunburnt, especially when you have to trudge along swamps masquerading as paths. A surprising number of taxis and motorbikes passed us as we went.<br />
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Once we arrived at Bai Dam Trau, our ears were assailed by obnoxious music being pumped out of a beachside bar. There were more food and drink stalls than we had expected, and we immediately plotted a course for the edge of the beach that was farthest from the noise. Fortunately, there were trees!<br />
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We settled in under a swathe of pine trees next to a rocky outcropping. As we were so far from the action, we weren't bothered by passersby - few people walked out to the very end of the beach.<br />
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I alternated between sunbathing and shadebathing, reading or simply enjoying the scenery. Aside from the ants who would crawl up our legs, it was a very pleasant beach day. </div>
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At one point, Yannick noticed that a lizard had taken up residence on a stick right next to my foot. He stared at us and allowed Yannick to take pictures. After a while, he ran off but would stop intermittently and do press ups. My theory is that he was trying to steal me away from Yannick. He came up and was like "Hey baby", trying to charm me, but I don't speak lizard so that didn't work out for him. Once he realised he was spurned, he left but would alternate short sprints with a set of reps to show me what I was missing out on.<br />
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It was quite interesting to be on a beach that was so close to the airport, and we could see planes landing every so often. This reminded me of Lyall Bay in Wellington, where there’s a similar set-up. We unsuccessfully tried to photograph the planes in their descent, always snapping them slightly too late so it looked like the planes were crashing into the hill.<br />
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Once we had become too fed up with brushing ants off our legs (they do tickle so), we found a table at a beach bar and rested there for a spell. It took a long while for us to acquire drinks, the staff being completely disinterested in us, but we eventually were served passionfruit juice and it was worth the wait.<br />
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I chilled in the hammock and we read some more. Ants couldn't get to me so easily there! Ha. Foiled, ants! Not long before we left, a couple of puppies frolicked and tumbled near Yannick's chair and they were adorably rascally. </div>
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We made the ride back to our hotel just in the nick of time, with heavy rain clouds threatening to unleash a downpour at any second. With astounding good luck, we had a few giant raindrops land on us as we were pulling into the hotel's lot but avoided driving in a storm.<br />
A few hours later, once the rain had stopped, we went in search of Phi Yen restaurant. Google Maps seemed confused as to its exact location, but we did see a place with people sitting at tables so we entered to inquire after a table. We were greeted, but they didn't seem to understand why we wanted a table, so we instead returned to Villa Maison. Our San Pellegrino was kept cold in a champagne bucket, which made us feel fancy, and we watched twitchy geckos and clumsy beetles as we wined and dined. Though no toads made an appearance, a night with French rosé is always a good night. </div>
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Necia Johnstonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10944621747519115421noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-77770166944493926.post-44351909635763262502018-01-03T15:00:00.000+00:002018-01-03T15:00:38.946+00:00Vietnam, day 6: Chilli Supplements for the Most Jacked Fruits<div class="p1">
<i>Con Son, Vietnam</i></div>
<i>19 May 2017</i><br />
Yannick's sunburn had not magically disappeared overnight, so we slathered him in aloe vera gel and decided to avoid the beach that day.<br />
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We returned to Infiniti Cafe and enjoyed the quirky surroundings while sipping on some juice for breakfast. I resolved to be adventurous and order the Vietnamese tea. I'm glad I tried it, although the taste was too reminiscent of seaweed for my liking so I stuck to green tea and Lipton from then on.<br />
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Taking a quick detour to the market, I bought a pineapple which had been skinned in that attractive spiral way, and the fruit vendor threw in a little bag of chilli salt for free! Though I wasn't a big fan of the pineapple chilli salt combo, I went mad for it with jackfruit.</div>
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Once we were suitably fructosed up, we perused the museum Bao Tang Con Dau, which was a surprisingly modern building and free to enter. There were far more exhibits than I was anticipating, with a range from prehistoric fossils to the French colonial era and beyond.<br />
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We read much about the 'prison period' of Con Dau, which I'll get into more later when we visited the actual prisons. Long story short: humans have an astounding capacity to be massive dicks to each other. I think most people would be shocked to find just how cruel people can be. </div>
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For afternoon refreshments we returned to Villa Maison and had tea, ca phe sua da and passionfruit juice (which is already the most amazing thing, but they make it THE BEST here by straining out the seeds and shaking it around in a tumbler so that it gets icy cold but ice isn't left in to water it down). Once I expressed admiration for the beautiful teapots, the owner told me that they're made in Vietnam from imported Spanish clay. In a dining area adjacent to us, we could hear a large party eating lunch and having a great time. Various dishes would be carried in, leaving delightful smells to waft over us.<br />
After retiring to our hotel room to suffer the heat of the day laying down watching Netflix, we set out again to see one of the prisons. </div>
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Trai Phu Hai is the largest and one of the oldest prisons in the Con Dau archipelago. The French established many prisons across the island during the colonial period to incarcerate the most dangerous political prisoners that they didn't want on mainland Vietnam.<br />
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This particular prison had ten of these large cells in which up to 250 prisoners at a time could be housed, naked and shackled by the ankle to long metal bars. The solitary cells were similarly horrific.<br />
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During our visit, we were joined by a large group of Vietnamese tourists. Apparently it's not uncommon for people who were imprisoned on Con Son or their family members to come on a trip to see the prisons. Perhaps it provides some sort of closure for them. As well as the cells, there was a kitchen and a church (which had been built in the time of the American War and was allegedly never used).<br />
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From there we took a short walk and intended to enter the tiger cages, but they were closing for the day. So instead, we went to the Hang Duong Cemetery. On the way was a rather imposing set of gates that led to a temple.<br />
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Known as Den tho Con Dau (or simply: Con Dau Temple), this is where many funerary ceremonies are held before remains are deposited at the cemetery. Photos don't do it justice, as it was not only a large temple, but beautifully designed, with intricate draconian roof carvings and pleasing topiaries.<br />
Then, as we attempted to pass through the cemetery's archway, a man emerged from a small incense shop, miming that we were not permitted entrance as our clothing was too small. Everyone else we saw going inside the cemetery had donned trousers, and knowing that we wouldn't survive being outdoors on Con Dau in trousers, we made peace with the fact that we would never see that cemetery.<br />
Our journey back to our hotel was fraught with danger! Only a short way down the gravel road leading away from the cemetery, we could see a dogfight taking place a few hundred meters away. We watched from a distance, unsure of how to proceed. I thought that they might settle down after a few minutes, but when a passing motorcyclist was chased, sharp teeth nipping at his retreating wheels, we figured that we were stuck. There was no way we were going to try walking past them, and as far as Google Maps was concerned, that was our only option out of there. Scoping out the possibilities (one being stampeding wildly through the jungle hoping to reach another road at some point), Yannick spotted a taxi driver in the cemetery's carpark. With the use of gestures and Google Translate, we were able to convey the direness of our predicament and he very kindly agreed to drive us down the road so that he didn't have mauled tourists on his conscience.<br />
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After some chilling at the hotel, we had dinner at a rudimentary noodle restaurant and then moved on to Bar 200. The menu was an eclectic mix of tropical and continental (such as baked beans on toast), seemingly because the owner of the bar was South African. We enjoyed our cocktails - a pina colada and a cosmopolitan - and had a brief chat with the owner before settling in for the night with some more Netflix using our high-speed data plans, which worked much better than the wifi. </div>
Necia Johnstonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10944621747519115421noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-77770166944493926.post-40411412987588114042017-12-31T01:05:00.000+00:002017-12-31T01:05:07.959+00:00Vietnam, day 5: A Trip to the Beach - Naht!<div class="p2">
<i>Con Son, Vietnam</i></div>
<i>18 May 2017</i><br />
We were woken early by roosters cawing and frantic hotel guests running up and down the stairs near our room. Unable to get back to sleep, we walked down a couple of blocks to the local market, where I stocked up on pineapple and jackfruit for later. Breakfast was at our new favourite waterfront cafe (Con Son Cafe), where I sipped at a pineapple juice (it's my second favourite fruit ok!) and Yannick tried out a bac xiu - like a normal Vietnamese coffee, but with MOAR condensed milk.<br />
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Feeling adventurous, we rented a motorbike from our hotel! Yannick's helmet was green, and mine was silver like a space cadet. Neither of us had ridden a motorcycle before, let alone driven one. I'm actually quite afraid of motorbikes because both my uncle and grandfather were in serious accidents which left huge scars across their pates. However, the roads were wide and practically empty, with just the odd bike or vehicle puttering along, and there were no extreme hills, so I felt that this would be the absolute best opportunity to ride one. What didn't assuage my fears, however, was watching Yannick get the hang of how to work the beast. He actually picked it up fairly quickly, but it was mainly my deep trust in him that got me through it. After cruising around the block a few times, we were off!<br />
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Though a bit wobbly, it was really quite fun to ride the motorbike! Yannick had to be extra vigilant because of all the potholes in the road, but the ride was wonderfully scenic and we wouldn't have been able to travel so far cross country without a motorbike as public transport isn't a thing.<br />
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Along the way, we saw an abundance of wildlife, including cows, goats, monkeys, and lizards.<br />
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The temperature was hot and humid (as it always is on Con Son), so feeling the wind rush past us as we zoomed along the coastal roads was refreshing.<br />
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Before long we had found Bai Naht, a beach that had been recommended to us by a local and through blog posts. When we arrived, there were two guys swimming and they remained in the water the whole time we were there! They must love swimming. We alternated between swimming and sunbathing. It was very exposed and there were no patches of shade on the beach, but as it was before half past ten, experience informed us that sunbating would be fine (though we were wrong). At one stage, some monks arrived in a taxi and frolicked about for a bit, which was quite a sight! The lady monks swam with all their clothes on (including head scarves), while the male monks stripped down to their pantaloons.<br />
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As is often the case in Vietnam, just across the road from the beach appeared to be some sort of landfill, though luckily we couldn't smell anything unappetising. It's always a slight shock to be surrounded by gorgeous lush hills on one side, a sweeping sea vista on the other, and then see a rubbish heap dumped squarely in the middle. Unfortunately, for all the country's wonderful scenery, it's not uncommon to see empty crisp packets bobbing along a winding river or an abandoned plastic bag sailing along in the breeze. However, we do our part by not littering, and I've learned to try to enjoy the good views over the bad.<br />
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After applying some sunscreen, we zipped off further down the coast to a wharf. Yannick never did fully manage to get the hang of stopping or starting the motorbike, but it's the thought that counts and we didn't crash so that's something. The wharf was a lot more built up than I expected it to be, with several shops and eateries on either side.<br />
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On the way back to the main settlement on Con Son, we stopped to get a closer look at a roadside shrine that was beautifully decorated with lanterns and incense, and surrounded by forest. A local woman tried to tell us something, but the words and gestures were unfortunately lost on us. She had a cute little puppy that stuck close to her ankles. </div>
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Across the street was a strange building that looked like a hotel that had been abandoned part way through being built. It would have been a coveted location for the views over the hills and the sea. Perhaps one day construction will be finished and it will rival even the Six Senses resort that lurks on the other side of the island. </div>
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On the way back to our hotel there were plenty of downhill sections in the road, so we had fun coasting down those. We parked and went to our room to have quick showers and it was at this point that Yannick realised he had been pretty badly sunburnt from our time on the beach. We resolved to be more careful in the future and not assume that European sun rules are the same in Southeast Asia. (Oddly enough, I was completely fine and not even a tad pink. This could be due to the fact that I had been sunbathing on our apartment's terrace in Singapore for the last couple of months and was therefore more accustomed to sun worship.)<br />
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As it was a muggy afternoon, we visited Infiniti Cafe for a bevvy break. We both ordered cocktails (a Blue Hawaiian and a margarita) and Yannick had a bite to eat. While taking a reading break, we were amused by the cafe owner attempting to feed her small child lunch and being rebuffed. He wanted to watch TV shows on the iPad and play with his firetruck instead. Returning to our hotel, we napped for a time before heading out again.<br />
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The road to Ong Dung beach was narrower than we expected, and had some construction work that we needed to bypass. Once we found the sign, we parked our motorbike and began the walk through the jungle. A scruffy puppy, who was at the start of the path, followed us the entire way! I think he wanted food but we had none to give. When we were nearly at the beach we spotted a jungle rat who made aggrieved barking noises as though we were a threat to his safety and scurried off into the underbrush. We discovered that there were a few houses down near the beach, and the puppy stopped following us there.<br />
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Though very rocky, we found a not too uncomfortable place to sit and read. When the pointiness became unbearable, Yannick found a plank of wood and gentlemanly laid it down for me to sit upon. Two guys came down and went snorkelling for a bit. Yannick and I discusses the pros and cons of living by Ong Dung beach. On the one hand, you can swim and snorkel whenever you want, but on the other you have to carry your groceries down a long winding jungle path. Luckily there were no sandflies or mozzies, but a persistent ant kept crawling up my leg (yes, it was definitely the same ant every time).<br />
Walking back up the jungle path, we saw loads of monkeys! They were running and swinging and fighting with each other, and this one monkey would make a very loud hooting noise which made him sound much larger than he was. Powerful lungs I suppose. He should train in opera.<br />
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We drove back and dropped off the motorbike at our hotel. After hanging out for a while, reading and eating pineapple on the balcony, we then went in search of the night market but it was nowhere to be found.<br />
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Instead, a tiny popular eatery drew our attention. While perusing the menu at the entrance, a little girl approached us and asked our names. Once we replied, she told us hers and then grabbed our hands, swinging them around and smiling sweetly. Aside from us, the patrons seemed to be mostly highschool-aged kids who raucously laughed with their friends, slurped on iced coffees, and endlessly scrolled through their phones. A cute one-eyed dog ran around from one end of the cafe to the other checking on everyone. His good eye was big and shiny and perfect for making puppydog eyes at people in case of food. The kitchen staff were run off their feet with so many customers (we were lucky to get a seat), and our orders took a while to be brought out. The green tea I had was strong, and Yannick was mightily impressed by how delicious his ciku smoothie tasted. They had run out of bun bo, so Yannick instead opted for a kind of toasted sandwich similar to a banh mi. Our whole order came to 45,000 dong, which is $2 USD. As we left, the large table of youths called out "buh-bye!"</div>
Necia Johnstonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10944621747519115421noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-77770166944493926.post-70670955644775320142017-12-15T21:20:00.001+00:002017-12-15T21:20:24.754+00:00Vietnam, day 4: Island Reconnaissance - Pancake Zone Identified<div class="p1">
<i>Con Son, Vietnam</i></div>
<i>17 May 2017</i><br />
On the morning of the 17th, we caught an Uber ride from outside our hotel in HCMC to head to the airport. A few minutes into the ride, our driver made a phone call and suddenly passed the phone back to me. I was flustered, but after a brief conversation, it transpired that the driver had called one of his friends who spoke English to find out if we needed to be dropped off at the domestic or international terminal. How nice!<br />
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Soon enough, we had boarded a small propeller plane and spent time cloud spotting on our way to the Con Dau islands which lay 236km due south of HCMC.<br />
Once we landed, we found the shuttle bus that had been sent from our hotel and on the drive there were given a lot of useful information (including good beaches, motorbike rental prices, local specialties, snorkelling info, and a recommendation for a noodle place).<br />
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Our hotel was small but comfortable. We had a room on the first floor with a balcony overlooking the street and a mango tree.<br />
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Wanting to explore, we quickly headed out for a wander of the town. Though Con Son is the largest settlement in the Con Dau archipelago, it had a strong village feel to it. While there were a considerable number of buildings including hotels, restaurants, and houses, there was also a lot of empty space. Sometimes you'd walk past a block filled with buildings and then cross the street to find yourself staring into an open field with a cow lazily grazing in it. </div>
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There was also a large amount of construction materials and equipment lying around unused. Just around the corner from our hotel was a big pile of sand that a local dog had taken to lying on much of the day, and a dump truck gathered rust further down the road.<br />
It was a five minute walk from where we were staying to the waterfront, and in that time we were greeted numerous times by families and schoolgirls in uniform cycling past. It was like the typical celebrity feeling of Vietnam, but on steroids. I guess that makes sense as there are considerably more tourists who visit HCMC or Hanoi than Con Son. One very young girl waved to us on the back of her dad's motorbike, and when Yannick waved back she froze, arm suspended mid-wave, a look of utter shock on her face.<br />
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Just as we reached the waterfront it began to rain so we found a seat at the Con Son Café to wait for the worst of it to pass. We were given free glasses of green tea, and Yannick had a proper drip coffee. While steeping in the aromas of our caffeinated beverages, we could overhear the telltale sounds of an action movie being played on the owner's iPad.<br />
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Though there was a warning sign at the start of the wharf, we watched a group of Vietnamese tourists walk out unconcerned, so we followed suit. </div>
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There were several old fishing boats, as well as round rowboats. We had never seen such a design before, and wondered if there was some benefit to round rowboats as opposed to the more common...boat shaped rowboats.<br />
We continued our walk along the waterfront in an attempt to reach the long hotel- and bar-lined An Hai beach. However, we found ourselves in a weird abandoned construction site where trees had grown atop the shells of partially built houses, and were separated from the beach by a fence and then a small gully of aquatic vegetation which may or may not have contained snakes or other hazards. Though tempted to take the shortcut, we made the wise decision to go all the way around, back to the street and along to a beachfront bar that we walked through to access the sea. This seemed to be a totally normal occurrence for the bar staff and they didn't give us a second glance. I felt odd to walk through a place of business, but we could find no way to access the beach apart from this method.<br />
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We walked the length of the beach being followed all the while by a couple of fascinated dragonflies. Clearly we smelled excellent to them or some such thing, as they flitted around our legs like wasps after the scent of lemon juice. Luckily they had no desire to eat us or sting us. I spotted a tiny beige crab scuttling along, and Yannick at first thought it was tumbleweed blowing across the sand.<br />
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Deciding we wanted to see the other beach that was very close to town, we walked back through the streets (more inland this time) and were barraged by yet more cheerful greetings! It seemed that almost everyone on the island was friendly and keen to say hello to us, including two men in green army uniforms on motorbike. Our stroll took us past many small homely eateries, corner stores, repair shops, and stray dogs. At one stage we found a manicured park with pretty roundabouts. After that, we rejoined the boardwalk and passed next to a paddock where goats and cows roamed.<br />
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Bai Lo Voi beach was less scenic, but also less built up in that there was not a single hotel or bar built onto it. We waded a little, and then sat on the concrete steps that led back up to the goat field, planning on what to do the next day. Scattered around our feet were some items of refuse: mostly discarded bits of broken fishing materials such as parts of nets or lines, but also evidence of feasts like dozens of rambutan skins.<br />
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On the way back to our hotel we discovered that the wharf area we had visited that morning was a popular late afternoon swimming spot. In fact, it felt as though the whole town had come to have a post work or school swim. A number of food stalls had also been set up to cater for the increased appetite of the swimmers. As we did not swim, we weren't yet hungry enough to eat so we returned home and read on the balcony for a time.<br />
For dinner, we chose an upmarket hotel restaurant called Villa Maison. Though undoubtedly one of the fanciest places in town, the prices remained astoundingly affordable and even offered English menus. Though the waitress had limited English ability, and we had zero Vietnamese ability, we made good use of Google Translate to work out the answers to questions.<br />
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We worked out that the vegetarian banh xeo contained no egg or dairy, so I tucked into the Vietnamese rice pancake (filled in this instance with shredded veggies and tofu) while Yannick had spicy fish. We both enjoyed a glass of rosé, and were surprised by the abundance of wildlife. Having sat outdoors on the terrace next to a small garden, I was enthralled by a couple of toads who croaked and leapt around. My favourite part was just after a jump, when they sat still and bolt upright, their chunky arms held straight, sticky fingers splayed on the dirt below them. Cats, lizards, and a really big moth also made an appearance. Apart from the wildlife, we had the entire place to ourselves, and as we were about to leave the owner came to thank us for dining. She told us that they had only opened five weeks before, and asked us if the service and food was up to our standards. We told her that everything was delicious, and suggested registering on TripAdvisor so that we could leave a review. She informed us that the weather should improve soon, and invited us to come back another time. As we left, our waiter said to me shyly "You are very beautiful." I got the sense that she had rehearsed that before approaching me, and it was very sweet. Con Son was quickly becoming my favourite place in Vietnam, and by extension, the world. </div>
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Necia Johnstonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10944621747519115421noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-77770166944493926.post-49327937930894882612017-11-23T21:39:00.000+00:002017-11-23T21:39:23.753+00:00Vietnam, day 3: She Drinks the Iced Tea Drink, She Drinks the Smoothie Drink...<div class="p1">
<i>Ho Chi Minh City, Vietnam</i></div>
<i>16 May 2017</i><br />
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On our third day in the capital, we decided to soak up even more French culture with breakfast at Une Journee A Paris. </div>
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A cute little cafe, it serves both locals and foreigners. I had lotus tea in an adorable goldfish tea set while Yannick had hot chocolate (he described it as "fruity and dark like good Lindt") and viennoiseries. </div>
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While there, and old man who was probably French shuffled off with a bag of croissants.<br />
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Our first touristing of the day was at the Hindu temple of Mariamman. Built in the late 1800's, its central altar is dedicated to the goddess Mariamman and serves the small population of Hindus in the city.<br />
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In need of more fresh air, we took a stroll through Tao Dan Park with all its lush vegetation and statues. <span style="font-family: "helvetica neue light" , , "helvetica" , "arial" , sans-serif;">The cactus garden was my favourite part, though the lotus pond was what caught many an eye, including a swarm of avid amateur photographers. Apparently this park is popular in the early morning, when hordes flock here to exercise. We were too late in the day to experience that, but we did see one lady learning to dance.</span></div>
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Just a few blocks from the Reunification Palace, we visited the Venerable Thich Quang Duc Memorial. On 10 June 1963, the Buddhist monk self immolated to protest religious inequality. The South Vietnamese president was Catholic, and issued policies discriminating against Buddhists even though the vast majority of Vietnamese people were Buddhist. As his body was burning, he remained silent and stoic while those around him wailed and prostrated themselves before him. It was a demonstration that shook the world, and even US president J F Kennedy commented on how much of an impact the photo of the burning monk had.<br />
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He had self immolated on the site of a busy intersection, and it remains so over fifty years later.<br />
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The Xa Loi Pagoda is where the body of Thich Quang Duc was carried once the flames had subsided. Apparently even after his body was cremated, his heart stayed intact, and is on display in the pagoda (though as we didn't know this at the time, we didn't find it). There was a separate staircase leading up to the pagoda for men and women, and at the top there were several people on their knees praying. We didn't want to disturb them, so just had a quick peek and then left, though on the way down Yannick could see a secret garden from his staircase. It was beautiful, with hanging vines, lotus pads and pineapple bushes.<br />
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We didn't spend long in the War Remnants Museum, as I became overwhelmed with horror and despair. Before my eyes became completely dysfunctional with tears, I took a photo of this scene showing a demonstration (against the American War) in Aleppo, Syria in 1967. The first floor displayed dozens of photos showing war protests around the world (including New Zealand), but as Aleppo had been recaptured by Syrian government forces during the civil war only five months before our visit to the museum, I found it of particular interest in terms of current affairs.<br />
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With my appetite completely destroyed, we decided to go on a café crawl instead of getting lunch. We had seen many quirky looking cafés online and used this opportunity to try out several. Our first stop was La Fenetre Soleil, a hip café bar set in an old colonial era apartment. </div>
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The airy windows lit up the eclectic decor, which had a mixture of cosy worn sofas and Japanese chairs amidst exposed brick. We were the only patrons apart from a couple who were having a nap in the corner. I ordered rose bud iced tea, which had actual little rose buds in it, and we were given a free dish of candied lotus seeds. I'd never tried them before, but wow yum! I'm glad we visited at a quiet time, as apparently smoking is allowed freely. However, it would be fun to return at night when the dim bar would be bustling and the music area (including white grand piano and drum set) would be jamming. We left when some irritating people sat near us and watched a reality show singing contest, the already less than stellar vocals blaring through shitty phone speakers.<br />
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Next was Loft Cafe, which had a huge clockface window. </div>
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So unique! So stylish!<br />
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Yannick, figuring he had better not have too many coffees in one day, had a smoothie and lime white chocolate mousse while I sipped at lavender tea. After leaving the cafe, we followed the spiral staircase up to the top of the building, where we saw an antique wrought iron lift with a heavy-looking counterweight suspended from the ceiling. </div>
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Someone called the elevator from a lower floor and we watched as the weights went up and down on their cables.<br />
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Having timed it just right with the odd opening hours, we finally managed to go inside the cathedral. However, it wasn't particularly interesting so we left quickly.<br />
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Crossing the street, we passed by the Post Office, where a woman in a green army uniform was directing traffic and a banana vendor hawked her wares.<br />
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Then we found L'Usine (meaning "the factory" in French). The bottom level was a clothing store, but up the stairs was a spacious café where Yannick drank red wine and I had a smoothie. We tried to work out why it was named L'Usine - could it be that the building used to be an old factory, or is it to do with the clothing store?</div>
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Last on our café crawl was The Old Compass Cafe, which was kind of hidden down a narrow alleyway and up some stairs in a 1960's apartment block. We didn't stay long as Yannick was full of drinks and didn't want any more, so I ordered a green tea. The server asked Yannick to order something as well, but he declined and the mood was rather awkward so I enjoyed my tea, took some photos and we left.<br />
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We rested back at our hotel for a spell, and then headed out again in the evening for dinner. Along the way, we saw a cute chubby kid in a black martial arts outfit. </div>
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At Hum Vegetarian, we had an array of dishes including spring rolls with an amazing dipping sauce, fried tofu in spicy sauce, red curry with tofu and rice noodles, and carrot fried rice which was delicious. We had opted to sit outside as the heat wasn't so unbearable after the sun set. Yannick was bitten by a mozzie that caused him to itch throughout our dinner, and our ears were occasionally beset upon by the barking of a dog in a nearby alley and loud singing from a neighbouring karaoke joint. Even with those negatives, the food was excellent and more than made up for it. Our waiters were so nice, and the cherry on top of the evening was dessert: sticky mango rice. </div>
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So sticky! So mango! Yannick, who usually isn't a fan of mango, surprisingly loved it.<br />
On our walk home, we were called out to with a bold "Hello hello!" and looking around we found that it came from a child who was slouching between her two parents on the back of a motorbike, glaring at us in anticipation of a response. I don't know if I'll ever grow tired of that celebrity feeling when I'm greeted by strangers just for being a foreigner. </div>
Necia Johnstonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10944621747519115421noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-77770166944493926.post-52982229598085129662017-11-20T22:03:00.001+00:002017-11-20T22:06:45.882+00:00Vietnam, day 2: A Palace, a Post Office and a Downpour of Tea<div class="p1">
<i><span style="font-family: inherit;">Ho Chi Minh City, Vietnam</span></i></div>
<i><span style="font-family: inherit;">15 May 2017</span></i><br />
<span style="font-family: inherit;">The kettle that was provided for our hotel room cast an electric blue glow when plugged in. That eerie nightlight coupled with the lack of windows meant that we had absolutely no clue what time we woke up. It could have been only a couple of hours since we fell asleep, or it could have been midday. There really was no telling without temporal markers and when jet lag was a possibility (a slim possibility as Singapore is only one hour difference from Vietnam, but still a possibility). Luckily we had woken at a reasonable time: 8am. We took advantage of the free hotel breakfast and ate fruit and coco pops. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">Refreshed from our deep sleep, we entered the grounds of the Reunification Palace ready for the day. The palace was where the President of South Vietnam lived and worked during the American War. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: inherit;">On 30 April 1975, a North Vietnamese Army tank busted through the fence and a soldier ran inside to fly the Viet Cong flag. It would mark the end of the war. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: inherit;">With iconic 60's architecture and furnishings, the palace was much more charming than I thought it would be. Indeed, as a fan of 60's culture this is no doubt one of my favourite palaces I've seen. Along the walls hung old photographs, including one of US President Nixon visiting the palace.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: inherit;">Some of the smaller offices felt a bit like spy headquarters. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: inherit;">As well as meeting rooms and offices, there were lots of other interesting areas like a grand dual staircase connecting the first two floors, a cinema decked out in red velvet, a card playing room, and an industrial scale kitchen with a giant egg beater that looked like it ran with the help of a lawnmower motor. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;">There was a helicopter on the roof! </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: inherit;">The basement levels were some of the most interesting, with room after room holding bleak desks with telephones or other communication machinery, and the occasional filing cabinet. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: inherit;">Next on the agenda was Saigon Central Post Office, which was opened in 1891 and designed by French architect Marie-Alfred Foulhoux (though many tour guides falsely credit Gustave Eiffel due to a poorly informed Wikipedia article which has now been corrected). Though it's one of the top tourist attractions in HCMC, it still functions as a post office, with stamps on display and rows of cashiers on either side of the grand portrait of Ho Chi Minh. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: inherit;">Then we attempted to enter the cathedral, but it was closed at that time (and after Googling it, it turns out that it has extremely limited opening hours). Though unable to see the inside, we noticed a large amount of graffiti along the outside bricks which looked like it had been done in white correctional fluid. Next we revisited the Opera House, but were told to return at 16:30. We really weren't having luck (we did return later, but as we didn't have tickets for a show, still weren't allowed in). </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: inherit; white-space: pre-wrap;">To cool ourselves in some much needed aircon, we found an upstairs table at a central branch of Cong Caphe, a chain of which we had fond memories from our 2015 Hanoi trip. I was brought a mystery juice, and I still don’t know what sort of fruit it was made from. Seemingly the server delivered a different order to me, and looked very conflicted on what to do as I had already sipped from it, so I just told her that all was well and I’d drink it instead of my order. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;">For lunch we visited My Banh Mi, which is a restaurant specialising in upmarket versions of the popular Vietnamese street food banh mi. <span style="white-space: pre-wrap;">Set up by two internationally renowned chefs and offering a dozen different sandwich fillings, it’s definitely not your average street food stall. I opted for the tofu banh mi with basil sauce, which was so good! Yannick chose the black pepper steak sandwich. </span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit; white-space: pre-wrap;">Though it was rather rainy, we wanted to visit the Botanic Gardens but honestly they looked a bit shit from the outside and were asking a steep entrance fee. (It was kind of funny to see groups of schoolchildren preparing themselves for character-building activities. I’m so glad I no longer have to participate in that sort of thing.) </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit; white-space: pre-wrap;">Instead, we checked out the Jade Emperor Pagoda, a 1909 temple dedicated to the top Taoist god. </span><br />
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<span style="white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">A plethora of statues and paintings representing deities, heroes, and demons loomed from pedestals and the walls. The air was thick with incense and candlelight. There was a bizarre clash between rustic style wooden decorations lit by neon tubing. We explored every available inch of the pagoda, and found that there were rooms that held shrines but also stacks of cardboard boxes and utilitarian shelving. I hadn’t experienced that in other temples, but frankly I think it was a practical use of space. As we left we spotted a very fluffy and sleepy temple-dwelling doggie who couldn’t be photographed due to the dim lighting. </span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit; white-space: pre-wrap;">Not long after we left, a legit storm sprung up and threatened to drown our umbrella so we popped into the closest cafe to wait it out. How much tea can one person drink? I was experimenting with that question within our first two days in Vietnam. Yannick was posing a similar experiment with ca phe sua da (Vietnamese coffee with sweetened condensed milk). Though enjoying the abundance of tea, I didn’t like how often it would come sweetened without forewarning. Don’t get me wrong - I like sweet tea (especially peach), but I’d like a little heads up. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;">On the way back to our hotel, we walked through Le Van Tam Park, which was terribly atmospheric after the rainfall. We also stopped by Turtle Lake, but it was super shit. I much preferred the park. </span><br />
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<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-style: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">When dinner time rolled around, we headed for a local spot called Bep Me In. Funnily enough, as we turned down an alleyway that we thought the restaurant was located on (thanks and no thanks to Google Maps), we ran into an Australian couple who were in search of the same place. After a few metres, however, our advancement was stifled by incoming traffic in the form of many rickety market stalls on wheels being pushed, pulled and trundled by vendors on foot and motorbike. The alley was barely wide enough for them, so we squeezed into tiny crevices to let them past and avoid our toes being run over. Eventually we made it to the end of the alleyway, but there was a distinct lack of restaurants and only ramshackle housing. As we turned back, an English-speaking girl pointed us in the right direction. It was apparent that this sort of thing happened a lot. I shake my fist at you, Google Maps. Get your shit together. </span></span></div>
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<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-style: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">Having been sent down the correct path by the kind stranger, we found a different alleyway in which several eateries were present (including the ever-searched-for Bep Me In). It was a bustling spot with long wooden banquet tables and backless chairs. No matter how many times I reread the menu, there was no tea, which ruined my experiment. I ordered carrot juice instead and was determined to begin my tea-filled quest anew the following day. Being tapas, mezze and all forms of “small dish” lovers, we sampled a few plates. One was a sautéed vegetable dish of what looked like green beans that had mutated slightly into a more draconian bean. They were fairly good tasting, like a mild and slightly crunchy green bean. We also ordered rice cooked inside some kind of leaf, and a green pepper and chilli pork dish. Yannick’s wine, though served too cold, was a nice change after not feeling able to afford much alcohol in Singapore for nearly four months. </span></span></div>
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<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-style: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">Wandering back home, we dodged puddles and sudden splashes from motorbikes’ wheels. Yannick amazingly remained relatively mud-free, though I was severely dirtied. I probably washed my feet in Vietnam just as often as drinking tea. </span></span></div>
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Necia Johnstonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10944621747519115421noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-77770166944493926.post-67012845662228691812017-11-14T21:48:00.001+00:002017-11-14T21:48:43.304+00:00Vietnam, day 1: Chaos Theory - Relearning the Road Code<div class="p1">
<i>Ho Chi Minh City, Vietnam</i></div>
<i>14 May 2017</i><br />
After packing up our apartment in Wilby Central, where we had lived for the last three and a half months, we paid our teary farewells to Singapore and took a turbulent but otherwise uneventful flight to Vietnam's capital city.<br />
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The visa upon arrival process was quick and easy, and before we knew it we had officially arrived. We bought a SIM Card each, with unlimited data for the month for about USD25. They were very simple to set up and we were able to catch an Uber ride to our hotel for only USD4! Having a data plan really makes a difference when travelling, and I think we'll try our hardest to have data wherever we go in the future.<br />
It was fun to be back in the crazy Vietnamese traffic, with motorbikes whizzing past on all sides carrying strange and oversized cargo. Most people were either texting or talking on the phone while zipping through the lanes, and one guy had even sellotaped his phone to his helmet as a makeshift handsfree setup. As we gathered our backpacks from the boot of the Uber, a downpour began and we quickly tried to find our hotel. However, Google Maps sent us too far down the road and we had to backtrack a couple of times before we found the right place. Once checked in, we took off our backpacks and immediately washed our feet of the grime. Yannick had already spilled chocolate onto his shorts from a slice of cake he procured at the Singapore airport, and he didn't want to stain the fabric more with the dark street mud. </div>
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Though our room had no windows, we already knew that we had to be prepared for any type of weather in Vietnam, as like Singapore it was very changeable. Armed with umbrellas and jandals, we went out in search of a spot for lunch. Down a dubious looking alleyway, we found the entrance to an apartment. Winding our way up the spiral staircase decorated with Chinese lanterns, I wasn't at all sure we were in the correct place, but then it opened up into a charming restaurant themed a bit like a mud hut: Mountain Retreat. If the heavens hadn't just opened and left the balcony sitting in a puddle, it would have been wonderful to sit out there and watch the street below.<br />
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With an enormous menu, Mountain Retreat could make a dawdler out of any decisive person, though I eventually settled on the braised tofu and mushrooms with a side of carrot juice. Yannick ordered a lime leaf chicken dish and was excited to have access to Vietnamese coffee again.<br />
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Feeling like stretching our legs some more, we walked to the Ben Thanh market - a covered market with vendors selling souvenirs and hand crafted items. Nearby were several streets lined with produce markets.<br />
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Then to 23 September Park, where we saw a dog run past in a t-shirt, and Yannick batted a balloon back to a playful child. There was a considerable amount of construction going on nearby, which didn't help our attempts to remaster the art of crossing the road, but we got back in the swing of things fairly swiftly regardless.<br />
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The entrance fee for the Ho Chi Minh Fine Arts Museum was 10,000 dong (USD0.44) so we decided we may as well have a look.<br />
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Honestly, I would have paid more than that just to see the building itself, which was a huge and beautifully designed 1929 French villa, with airy shuttered windows, tiles, and balconies.<br />
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There was an interior courtyard with lush foliage, and while there you felt like you had been transported into a previous era (if the illusion wasn't hampered by the skyscrapers poking out above the rooftops).<br />
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Now that I've raved enough about the building itself, let me rave about the art. There were powerful sculptures, lacquer engravings, sketches of soldiers and more.<br />
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Some of the art had a Mayan-esque quality to it, as though the Mayans and Vietnamese shared some connected historical art style. It was very interesting, and something that we would see more of in Vietnamese art.<br />
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Continuing to explore, we found streets rife with antique shops and narrow apartments, thick clumps of cabling branching off like a diagram of a human body's nervous system. </div>
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As a fan of pedestrian zones, I had to check out Nguyen Hue Walking Street. A long paved pedestrian street dotted with trees, fountains and art exhibits, I enjoyed the stroll. Along the way we saw a building in which every balcony advertised a different shop, and were called out to by many fruit hawkers. I considered buying some mango with chilli salt, but opted instead for some delicious ripe pineapple, which the lady chopped into pieces for me. </div>
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At the end of the street we reached Sông Sài Gòn, the river that snakes through the city. It wasn't particularly attractive, with rather a lot of flotsam in the form of rubbish and aquatic vegetation, and giant billboards advertising beer. And yet as with most cities, any little bit of nature one can get is cherished. (Except for Singapore, which somehow manages to combine a modern city with nature excellently.)<br />
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From couples to tourists (itsa me!) to the elderly, an array of people congregated along the river's banks to watch the slow ebb of the water as it drifted past container ships and skyscrapers.<br />
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A few minutes' walk up the bank, we crossed some terrifying multi-laned streets to reach the statue of Tran Hung Dao, a 13th-century military leader who looked somewhat like a cross between a samurai and a figure from the Terracotta Army.<br />
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And before heading home we of course had to see the Saigon Opera House, which opened on 1 January 1900. Stylistically, it's based off the Opéra Garnier in Paris, and was intended to please French colonists. We weren't allowed inside as a show was about to start, so we decided to return at another time. The opera house was in a swanky part of HCMC, with Gucci Stores and window displays of Moët et Chandon. We passed by two historic hotels: the Hotel Continental, which was Saigon's first ever hotel (built in 1880); and the Caravelle Hotel, which was a hub of communication during the Vietnam War as it was popular with journalists, writers and was even the location of the Australian and New Zealand embassies in the 1960's. Famously, a bomb exploded in room 514 (a floor known to be occupied by foreign journalists) in 1964, injuring several people but fortunately killing none.<br />
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The People's Committee Building is another example of the splendour of French colonial architecture. Originally a hotel, it now functions as a city hall.<br />
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By the time we reached the Saigon Notre-Dame Basilica, we had grown weary and were in need of rest. We snapped a few photos of the outside but decided to return on another day. After resting in our hotel for a while, we ventured out again for dinner. Yannick had heard that Banh Mi Huynh Hoa made a wicked sandwich, so we waited in line to acquire one. There were two lines: one for pedestrians and one for motorcyclists. For 35k dong (USD1.50), it was a ridiculously affordable dinner. I wanted something a bit lighter, so on the way back we popped into a small supermarket where I bought apples and ciku, a fruit that tastes like brown sugar. Though the banh mi made Yannick weep from spiciness, it was worth the wait and the mouth flames.</div>
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Necia Johnstonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10944621747519115421noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-77770166944493926.post-41265447038861409032017-11-04T20:49:00.000+00:002017-11-04T20:49:26.267+00:00April Account 2017April passed in much the same fashion as March, with much walking, cooking and a bit of exploring and socialising.<br />
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I continued to go on my long walks to East Coast Park, which was becoming a favourite route of mine. It was so lovely to walk along the coastal footpath and before I knew it, kilometres and kilometres had fallen away behind me as I watched wind tousle the palm leaves and clouds glide past the horizon of ships.<br />
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One day, my friend Mel joined me on the walk and afterwards we stopped for a bite to eat at Brownice - a vegan gelateria that I had been meaning to visit. Not only was the gelato fantastic, but the garlicky waffle fries were so moreish! The flavours I chose were Earl Grey, peanut butter chocolate chip, and passionfruit sorbet.<br />
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Notice the patterns on my fingers? Well, let me tell you about it. </div>
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Mel also accompanied me on a trip to Little India, where I had henna applied to my arm and hand. It was a novelty that I figured I may as well try once! I sent this photo to my dad stating "I got a tattoo!" Quickly followed by "...a henna tattoo". It gave him quite a fright. (Teeheehee.)</div>
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Venturing deeper into Little India, Mel and I found some very charming streets with houses in the old style. </div>
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That was where we explored the Mustafa Centre, which was a strange kind of department store (you had to walk through the perfume shop to reach the supermarket). I found so many beautiful dates at reasonable prices and wanted to purchase all of them! Managing to restrain myself somewhat, I settled on only getting some mazafati, sokkari, safawi and ajwa dates. The nut selection similarly set my eyes alight, though I just bought a packet of cashews. (The grocery photo above was a typical haul for me, with plenty of fruits and veggies from Sheng Siong - a magical place.)</div>
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Giant Hypermarket also had great deals, and how could I pass up cheap melons?!</div>
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My meals were delicious and nutritious, what with the abundance of fresh produce in easy reach. The wooden bowl holding half a rock melon was a bargain I picked up from a secondhand store I found down the road! I love a good deal. </div>
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On the day I visited the secondhand store, tops and dresses were half price, so I snagged this gem for five dollars! I don't know if it's a top or a dress, so I was lucky that the offer covered both clothing categories (and I've since worn it in each way).<br />
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One weekend, Yannick and I visited Chinatown where we had heard tales of a cafe called Cake Spade. Famed for their freakshakes, Yannick ordered a speculoos variety and boy was it freakish. There was ice cream, speculoos biscuits, bits of speculoos cake, speculoos spread, a caramel sauce, and speculoos crumbs. It was a little overwhelming, and Yannick couldn't finish it because it was so rich. I opted for the pink flamingo tea, which matched the bright neon decor. </div>
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On another weekend we ventured up Orchard Road, but as we're not super into shopping we popped down a side road: Emerald Hill Road.<br />
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Known for its beautifully decorated houses (built by wealthy members of the Peranakan community), we wandered along and admired each one. Some had interesting Wild West saloon style doors, which seemed odd but somehow still fit the style.<br />
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Trendy bars are interspersed between the houses, and coincidentally a cowboyesque photoshoot was taking place at one! I suppose we weren't the only ones to spot the similarity between the door styles. </div>
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Closer to home, on one afternoon we explored an exhibition at the National Design Centre that displayed concept art from Assassin's Creed Black Flag. It was very cool to see atmospheric sketches and paintings from the piratical video game, even if I had never played it myself. We also finally got around to visiting the National Library, which we had been intending to see since we moved into our apartment in Bugis. On show were some very intriguing old maps, photos and documents which delved into the history of Singapore.<br />
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Easter was an interesting time of year, living next to a church. Bells could be heard at any time of the day and night, and choirs were frequent. I actually didn't mind the choirs, and preferred them to the other forms of celebration, which on one night included what sounded like someone singing along badly to karaoke. For some reason the church decided to put their speakers on full blast, letting everyone in the greater Bugis area hear the good news about their lord and saviour. During this time especially, I made sure to stretch my legs and walk around the city capturing invisible monsters via the Pokemon Go app. This 'big blue dude with little red umbrella' was a favourite PokeStop of mine and just around the corner from the church. </div>
Necia Johnstonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10944621747519115421noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-77770166944493926.post-35786923518404442512017-06-12T10:30:00.000+01:002017-06-12T10:59:41.894+01:00Pulau Ubin<div>
<i>29 April 2017</i></div>
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Fancying another day trip, we caught the bus to Changi ferry terminal and waited around for a "bum boat" to become available to take us to Pulau Ubin. Why bum?!</div>
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Anyway. Before long, several other people had gathered awaiting a ferry and we were shown along the pier to one of the boats. </div>
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It was definitely a more rustic experience than some ferries I've been on, with a bustling captain who I'm pretty sure had poor vision due to age. But as the journey was very short, cost us only $3, and we seemed to be in no danger of sinking, I wasn't particularly worried. </div>
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Upon disembarking, we quickly found the main street and decided that it was well and truly time for me to learn how to ride a bike! For a reasonable rate we secured such a contraption and moved further down the road so we could have a quiet area in which to practice. Much to my surprise, I picked it up fairly easily, and in no time at all I was pedalling around with a big grin on my face. I did need to build up momentum before I took off each time (using my left leg to kick off mightily), and was rather wobbly, but by god! I was on a bike! Without training wheels! We returned to the bike rental shop so that Yannick could join me in wholesome two-wheeled fun. </div>
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No taxis for us, thanks! We are <i>cyclists</i> now. </div>
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Utilising my newfound skill, we cycled along to Bukit Puaka, where we ditched our bikes and trekked up the slope. The cicadas here were going mental and the clamour was a bit overpowering. From the top, we could see a couple of different quarries that had been filled in with water to make lakes, and a vast expanse of forest stretching out to the sea. It definitely felt more like we were in the jungle than other walks we've undertaken in Singapore (such as in MacRitchie Nature Reserve), which have felt more maintained and cultivated. </div>
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Gathering our bikes again (aka our new best friends) we zipped along the paths towards the east side of the island. Along the way, we saw many little houses and sheds. One had a sign out front offering free yoga! What a place. Next door, someone had painted an Oriental Pied Hornbill onto their wall. We weren't able to see this type of bird on our trip, though we did have a close encounter with a small green snake!</div>
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A small village on the east side of the island is called Chek Jawa, and we took a quick peek at the visitor centre (which is housed in an old colonial era-cottage). Through the cottage, you can access a jetty from which you can see mainland Sinapore not far in the distance. </div>
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Next we took a nice stroll along the coastal boardwalk and had our photo taken. Yannick had a chilled can of 100 Plus to sip on, as handily there were several vending machines dotted around the island for parched and overheated daytrippers. </div>
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The coastal boardwalk turned into the wetlands boardwalk, which was surrounded by mangroves and funny mangrove trees. Here we spotted a monitor lizard and after a few minutes he decided to go for a swim!</div>
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A point of interest was the Muslim cemetary, which I could find no information about. It was signposted, so clearly some part of the island's history, but details elude me. </div>
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Around the bikepark (carpark for bikes) we saw a couple of wild boars who were rooting around in the underbrush. It was a shock when we saw the first one, as we weren't aware Pulau Ubin was home to wild boar!<br />
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Some cheeky monkeys had also invaded the bikepark by the time we had returned from the boardwalk, and were flinging around some plastic bags and empty crisp packets they had found and leaping from bikes to trees and back. This guy, who casually sat atop a toppled bike, scratched his side as he peered around searching for <span style="font-family: "helvetica neue light" , , "helvetica" , "arial" , sans-serif;">more opportunities for mischief. </span><br />
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On the way back to the dock, we rode along the Sensory Trail. Though I have no idea why it was named that, there was a lovely lotus pond, and it was good practice to ride along a gravel path. </div>
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I'll leave you with a photo that depicts pure joy. Oh, to be a kid again, even if just for a few minutes. </div>
Necia Johnstonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10944621747519115421noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-77770166944493926.post-55898311264671927912017-06-08T09:33:00.000+01:002017-06-08T09:33:15.030+01:00March 2017 (The Long and Short of It)<div>
In March we were starting to feel properly settled in Singapore. As well as continuing to go on Monday morning botanic gardens walks with my International Ladies' Group, I also went on a trip to the <span style="font-family: "helvetica neue light" , , "helvetica" , "arial" , sans-serif;">Musical Box Museum. </span></div>
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All the artefacts were donated by a single collector - an eccentric Japanese man. We were shown a couple dozen musical boxes from a range of time periods. The older ones looked strangely like records with holes in, and had to be hand-cranked. </div>
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Some of the boxes were enormous! This one was built for use on a cruise ship and was coin-operated. Another of even larger size had been placed in a hotel lobby. When I got home and showed Yannick pictures of my museum visit, he thought that the tour guide was a mannequin. I assure you he was real! </div>
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Standing all together, we posed for a group photo with the mannequin-like guide. Interestingly, the museum is located inside an old school that was attached to the Thian Hock Keng temple, so not only is there a showcase of history inside the museum but all around it!</div>
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Having been on the lookout for a new dress for some weeks, I finally found the perfect specimen and decided to buy it though it was a bit pricier than I would have hoped. I wore it one evening when we tried a new restaurant: Pizzeria L'Operetta. Yannick had put in many hours of research into which pizzeria was the best in Singapore, and this one came out as a likely contender for number one. The marinara was pretty damn good, though not as tasty and traditional as a real Neopolitan pizza, or even a night at Pizza Pilgrims in London. However, we enjoyed having a bit of a change from the Singaporean food we'd been eating day in and day out, and with a red wine on the side it made for an excellent night out. </div>
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Our new friend Bill told us that his wife Megan was coming to visit him from Chicago, and we all met up for drinks on Boat Quay one evening. The next day I had lunch with her at a place she recommended called Real Food. What a place! Serving Western food with plenty of vegan options, it was also a nice change to my typical meals (stir fries galore!) and I returned multiple times. </div>
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The lentil burger was delicious, as was the rosemary hash brown and chickpea patties. Yannick's favourite is the vegan French toast, and I simply can't pick a favourite! I still need to sample much more of the menu, after all. </div>
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<span style="font-family: "helvetica neue light" , , "helvetica" , "arial" , sans-serif;">After a brief weekend trip to Penang, our usual scheduling could continue. We had such a lovely time meeting up with Jarold, but alas Yannick had to return to work and me to faffing about. </span></div>
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Katie, my good friend from London, visited for a couple of days in March and I made sure to take her to all the best places. One such being the Fortune Centre, where we lunched at Hotcakes. It was here that I tried nasi lemak, a Malaysian specialty. We followed up our spicy rice dishes with big slices of cake, selecting speculoos and vanilla blueberry. Lazat! ("Tasty" in Malay.)<br />
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For my birthday, Yannick and I went to a screening of Beauty and the Beast, as like any 90's child I had watched Disney movies nonstop and wanted a dose of nostalgia. I'll admit that my favourite character Gaston was slightly disappointing, but overall I greatly enjoyed the film. </div>
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A coupe of times when the weather was clement, I took the free Wilby shuttle to the pool with my gym buddy Melanie. We swam and chatted and worked on our tans. Though it would have been nice to have a pool right downstairs, I infinitely preferred living centrally and having no pool rather than living out of the way and having easy access to one. </div>
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Having already scoped out the supermarkets near Bugis, I continued to hunt out good deals in March. I never grew tired of this view from the Suntec City overbridge! Though Suntec lacked a Jollibean (tragic to be forced further afield for soy milk), I decided that it was the best mall in terms of location, store selection, and cheapness and range of its supermarket. </div>
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As mentioned previously, stir fries were a near everyday staple for my lunch, but I often played around with different ingredients and meals as well. Vietnamese rice paper rolls were unbelievably cheap, so I would make spring rolls with bright fresh veggies and dipping sauce. </div>
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Italian- and Mexican-themed meals were also commonplace. I managed to find hella cheap cherry tomatoes, and so invented a sauce utilising halved cherry tomatoes, a splash of olive oil, lime juice, oregano and pepper served over pasta or red kidney beans. It's so zesty that Yannick requested it multiple times per week. Quesadillas and burrito bowls were eaten on the regular also, though I did have a bad experience when cooking black beans from dried for the first time: food poisoning! It was completely my own fault, and the effects were quite mild, but I won't be making the mistake of undercooking beans again anytime soon. The meal, however, was delicious! Black rice, cabbage, purple sweet potato, black beans and homemade salsa make for a hearty and colourful meal, just make sure not to poison yourself! </div>
Necia Johnstonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10944621747519115421noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-77770166944493926.post-78489936192220466892017-06-07T08:00:00.000+01:002017-06-07T11:32:34.445+01:00Penang, part II: Aim High, for the Gods are Tall<div class="p1">
<i style="background-color: rgba(255 , 255 , 255 , 0); font-family: "helvetica neue light" , , "helvetica" , "arial" , sans-serif;">Penang, Malaysia (Palau Pinang, Malaysia)</i></div>
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<i style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);">5 March 2017</i></div>
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Our next day in Penang began with finishing off the half watermelon of the day before and meeting up with Jarold while he ate his dim sum breakfast. Catching an Uber ride to the base of the Kek Lok Si Temple, we took a less travelled way up. </div>
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Though not "the main way", there were still several souvenir shops doted along the zigzagging staircase, as well as piles of gravel and other construction materials near labourers sipping drinks. </div>
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The pathway had many offshoots which led to shops and houses, and this one featured a sleepy cat!</div>
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Once at the top, we entered the temple and found it to be huge and amazing. It was so colourful, with innumerable yellow and red lanterns, and brightly painted railings and roof tiles. </div>
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We had managed to climb rather high, and I give the sprawling views out over Georgetown top marks. </div>
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The setting of the temple among the lush mountains made for a relaxing visit. </div>
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For a small fee I was able to buy a wish! I selected "coming and going safely" because of our travels. All the wishes get strung up on sticks, and Jarold used a long tool to secure his right at the top because the gods are tall. It was interesting to see what wishes were available, aside from the typical "academic prowess" and "financial success". One that stood out was "constant happiness", which frankly sounds exhausting. There were special wish ribbons for children, which were designed with Disney princesses all over them. Some gems from these were "listen to my father" and "hurry up", though I feel like the parents would wish for these things more than the children themselves. </div>
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After taking a cable car to the top we saw another wishing tree, this one with a special ribbon available for double the price: "pray for lucky blessings by auspicious dragon". Wow. That is definitely worth the extra dough. </div>
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Still under construction, we walked up to a giant statue of the Lady Buddha, who was Jarold's Buddha of choice to pray to. </div>
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Taking a different way down, our eyes were assailed by cluttered flashy souvenir stalls offering many different trinkets. At the base of the hill, Jarold introduced us to <span style="font-family: "helvetica neue light" , , "helvetica" , "arial" , sans-serif;">Muar Chee: Malaysian sticky rice balls coated in sugar, peanuts and sesame seeds. Quite delicious, and they were also very cheap from the roadside vendor. Inside a gift shop, Yannick found a packet of coconut dodol (a sweet made from coconut milk, sugar and rice flour) that he had taken a strong liking to on our last trip to Malasia, so he bought a packet. This was in spite of Jarold claiming that it wasn't true dodol unless it was durian flavour! No thank you. In the same store I found some delicious looking dried mango, so procured a packet for later nibbling. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "helvetica neue light" , , "helvetica" , "arial" , sans-serif;">Suddenly one of Jarold's friends Jake turned up and drove us to what was apparently the best Char Koay Teow place in town - a little stall in a hawker centre that had been run by the same lady for forty years. </span></div>
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While there, I had fruit for lunch and was able to try something new: ciku! This soft little fruit tastes exactly like brown sugar. I also discovered that carrot juice in Malaysia automatically comes with added milk, so I swapped my strange concoction for Yannick's (thankfully dairy-free) apple juice. </div>
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From there we were driven to Then Kong Thnuah Temple, where it began to rain. Pink umbrella in hand, Jarold led the way up the steps and into the grand entrance. Jake stayed behind, as his mum forbade his from visiting the temple of the sky god as it was "too big a god", who he likened to a CEO god. </div>
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Though not as high in elevation as Kek Lok Si, the views from this temple were also stunning. </div>
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Inside, much insense was burned and many shoes were removed. </div>
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Our next stop was to Bats' Cave Temple, which had an actual bat cave! With bats! They were surprisingly tolerant of all the commotion that the worshippers were producing; one lady who was just out of our line of sight was somehow making sounds like she was dropping a plank of wood at height repeatedly. Perhaps she was, thought I've never seen that method of prayer before. </div>
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<span style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);">Pineapple shaped candles were very popular here, and when I pointed out how affordable they were to Jarold, he went off to have a look. That's the last I saw him. </span></div>
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<span style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);">We searched high and low, until we finally found him outside playing with a cat. He always finds cats wherever he goes and I suspect that he's a superhero in disguise (his superpower being super cat radar). </span></div>
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<span style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);">With space still in their bellies, Yannick and the others shared a laksa and some fried radish cubes with spicy sauce while I ate yet more fruit in the form of pineapple and mango. </span></div>
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Then Jake kindly dropped us off at the botanic gardens, where we encountered a few packs of monkeys. Some looked like sad old men slumped on the edge of the footpath waiting for a bus that would never arrive. On our last trip to Malaysia we had visited Batu Caves, where the monkeys are very aggressive and will steal anything they can get their pesky hands on. Here, they largely minded their own business and groomed each other. </div>
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We were lucky in that the day was cloudy, so we didn't overheat too much while walking around, and searched for a rumoured secret lotus garden. Though we weren't sure if we had found it or not (no lotus were blooming, but it may have been the wrong season), we enjoyed sharing the packet of dried mango while looking out over a scenic pond where a cute turtle peered at us. </div>
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Inside the Bromeliad house, I found a pineapple plant! Oh, how I would love to own a pineapple plant. We also saw a hummingbird. </div>
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From a roadside stall, Jarold purchased an icecream sandwich as a snack, which turned out to be a literal chunk of ice cream stuck into a bread roll (and the ice cream was sweetcorn flavoured). It's a different sort of place, is Malaysia. <span style="font-family: "helvetica neue light" , , "helvetica" , "arial" , sans-serif;">As he was munching away, a nearby monkey spotted the treat and made a run at him! Instinctually, Jarold crammed the sandwich into his mouth and the monkey turned away dejectedly. Once he had swallowed, Jarold declared "I came from Batu Caves, bitch!" </span></div>
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Then we began the walk back to downtown. Along the way we saw a huge woodlouse, which Jarold poked experimentally. It tucked itself up into a ball and slowly rolled down the sloped footpath. Soon afterwards we smelled fire and saw that there was some sort of blessing ceremony going on for a car, utilising burning coconuts and petals scattered over the windshield. </div>
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Before we had to leave for the airport, Jarold insisted on one more dish for Yannick to try, which was a duck soup from a very popular stall. For dessert they found a cendol vendor and sat on tiny plastic stools while eating. Our time in Georgetown quickly drawing to a close, we said our farewells to Jarold and caught an Uber to the airport. Apparently it's traditional to bring back specialty Penang biscuits to your coworkers after a holiday, so Yannick went around trying the free samples in the airport store to find the best flavours. He accidentally tried a durian one, but felt better after a massage we got in coin-operated chairs. I found it exceedingly weird, but Yannick said that he would do it again in the future. Biscuits in hand, we caught our flight back to Singapore. </div>
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<b>Today's post was almost called:</b> Monkey Dreams of Sandwich</div>
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</style>Necia Johnstonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10944621747519115421noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-77770166944493926.post-57007189928627278562017-05-25T03:00:00.000+01:002017-05-25T05:26:30.854+01:00Penang part I: Out On a Lim - Chewing the Jettysburgh Address<div class="p1">
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<i>3-4 March 2017</i><br />
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With a spare weekend under our belts, we decided to fly to a little island off Malaysia. Can you guess which one? Hint: look at the title. We coordinated schedules with Yannick's friend Jarold, who lives a short hop away in Kuala Lumpur, however, we would be arriving the evening before him. </div>
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On the Friday, I met Yannick after work, allowing me to see the nifty gardens in the middle of the Sandcrawler Building which I had been looking forward to. There were fish ponds, plenty of bamboo, and a yoda statue! </div>
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After an uber ride to the airport, we boarded the plane and sat through a very long hour in extra uncomfortable seats while a large man next to Yannick snored. Once through Imigresen and customs, we took a teksi to our hotel to drop off our bags. Then we popped out for a quick wander, and were instantly reminded of our first trip to Southeast Asia not so long ago. (It was a dark night. The location? Kuala Lumpur. The streets were narrow, with nary a decent footpath in sight, cars and bikes dodging street food vendors while we tried to decipher just what exactly the stalls were selling.) Yannick found a sign advertising a dish he recognised: char kway teow. A very popular dish in Malaysia, he ordered a plate and declared it to be tasty. We then visited the local 24 jam (24 hour shop) for water and biscuits. </div>
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The next morning, we set out exploring! Passing by a fruit and vege shop, I resolved to return there later once hunger struck. But until then, exploring! Apparently named after just one family who lived there, Armenian Street was our first port of call. It was a quaint little procession of shops and skinny houses with peeling shutters. As Penang (and especially the capital of George Town) has so many historical sights dotted around, a local artist was commissioned to create a series of steel rod cartoon sculptures entitled "Voices from the People" that signposted the town's places of interest as well as providing humour and a certain Penang-esque character.<br />
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There were many temples and mosques in the Armenian Street area, as well as organised tour groups in bright matching tshirts who helped us cross a busy street by creating a human dam, stemming the traffic. </div>
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Finding our way to Little India, we noticed an icrease in the colourfulness of people's garb and the noisiness of shopfronts.<br />
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Women were decked out in purples, reds, and oranges while Bollywood tunes blared at us from DVD shops with cratefuls of cassette tapes out front. Does anyone even own a cassette-friendly stereo anymore? We noticed that splashes of yellow paint adorned the footpath outside many establishments, and assumed that this was some sort of blessing. </div>
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On our way to another sight, we paused for several minutes across from this temple waiting for a gap in the traffic. Our patience paid off, and not only did Yannick snag a photo with no cars or busses obstructing the view, but he also captured a pigeon mid-swoop!<br />
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The sight in question was an old Peranakan mansion that has since been turned into a hotel with shops on the ground floor. We could sense that it was impressive at some point in time, but was currently overshadowed by heavy-handed restoration and advertisements.<br />
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Next on our list was Love Lane, where in decades past rich men would house their mistresses. </div>
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The street, while retaining generous heapings of charm, had been overcome by hipsterness and almost every building had been turned either into a boutique hotel or a Western-oriented café (not even selling kopi!). </div>
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From there we wended our way over to the esplanade, which was overcome in some areas by fishermen and the smell of rotting fish guts. Even away from the worst of the smells, the esplanade wasn't terribly attractive so we moved on. We briefly considered visiting Fort Cornwalis, but with a bit of Googling we deemed it potentially not worth the 15 ringgit entrance fee. The fort was built by the British East India Company to defend against pirates, but never engaged in combat and was largely used as a centre of administration. </div>
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Slightly more inland, the Queen Victoria clock tower drew our eye and we circled it before walking down Beach Street in search of an iced beverage.<br />
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With no luck on Beach Street (think less a cafe street and more a bank street), we headed back to Little India and found what we desired. I scored an insanely delectable mango juice, while Yannick got his kopi fix: kopi (coffee) with sweetened condensed milk and ice, similar to Vietnamese ca phe sua da. </div>
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Having heard that there was a mini cluster of jetties on the waterfront, we set off again refreshed. On the way we found yet more temples, this time larger than the last!<br />
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We noticed a few pieces of street art as well, starting with this...fuzzy rock golem slash temple guardian? Whatever he's supposed to be, it's immaginitive. </div>
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According to the Internet, which I'm hesitant to trust, the Penang street art scene only began in 2009. During a local festival in 2012, <span style="font-family: "helvetica neue light" , , "helvetica" , "arial" , sans-serif;">Lithuanian artist Ernest Zacharevic painted a few dynamic pieces, which are among the top tourist sights in the city today. Along with "Little Children on a Bicycle" and "Reaching Up", this wall at the side of Step by Step Street is a hotspot for tourist photographs. </span></div>
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Finally at the waterfront again, we ambled along the first jetty we found, which turned out to be called Lim Jetty. A long wooden pier jutted out over the water, with a series of ramshackle shacks stuck along the right hand side.<br />
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As it seemed to be low tide, much of the jetty wasn't above water at all, but thick mud or a sort of muddy wetland area. Walking out, our senses were assaulted: on the one hand, it was an incredibly picturesque and bright scene, and on the other hand a thick stench rose up from the exposed mud. When we revisited the jetties hours later once meeting up with Jarold, the tide had encroached and smothered the fumes. This was excellent news because Jarold had just bought an R2D2 themed 'heritage' biscuit (don't ask me) and munched on it while on Lim Jetty - I imagine he would have been thoroughly put off his food if the mudstank was still hanging around. </div>
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Next in line was Chew Jetty, the most popular and touristic of all. Shops and houses were attached to both sides of the walkway, and there was much more going on, including several stalls selling durian coffee. We made our way down a couple of side alleys that branched off the main path, but it felt a bit like an invasion of privacy as we were passing by people's open living room windows as they went about their lives, and stepping around laundry hung out to dry. Seeing strangers' underpants would make all but the most hardened awkwardness specialist uncomfortable (though if they were dirty underpants, that's a different story). </div>
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But just as we turned back, a local on a motorbike whizzed passed us and gestured that we could go further. I don't need to be told twice! Further on we saw more houses, as well as a small shrine containing incense, candles and a gloriously ripe pineapple. Don't waste such perfect fruit on the gods!<br />
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Feeling sleepy from the heat, we returned to our hotel and I napped for a couple of hours. Then, in need of sustenance, we bought a half watermelon from the aforementioned fruit stall and (with the help of a spoon I pilfered from the hotel dining area) slurped our woes away. </div>
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<span style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);">Soon afterwards we met up with Jarold, and together we revisited some of sights we deemed best (ie. we skipped returning to the esplanade but had a second wander of Love Lane, Little India and the jetties. </span></div>
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Making our way inland once again to a cafe Jarold recommended, we were called out to by a man with a bewheeled stall: "hello coconut!" - he was selling young coconuts, but we weren't in the market for any. We arrived at China House and I was fairly impressed. Not only was it a beautiful heritage building, and not only was it a café, but there was also a snazzy bar attached, and upstairs was an art gallery. I fell in love with this enthusiastic woofy dog who was prancing up the wall next to the stairs. We ordered some drinks and rested in the bar for a time, chatting and discussing which artworks in the gallery we liked most. </div>
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At dinner time, we caught an Uber to Annalakshmi <span style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);">Temple of Fine Arts</span><span style="font-family: "helvetica neue light" , , "helvetica" , "arial" , sans-serif;">, a vegetarian Indian restaurant offering daily lunch buffets and a Saturday dinner buffet (with other evenings being a la carte). </span><span style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);">As in a temple, we were required to remove our shoes before entering, and cats paced in the garden surrounding the courtyard we dined in, signifying (according to Jarold and seconded by us) that this was a good place with good people. </span><span style="font-family: "helvetica neue light" , , "helvetica" , "arial" , sans-serif;">We ate a selection of delicious curries, rice and gravies to our hearts' content. This place is very special, as its some sort of charitable organisation (though I couldn't find out details online). The waiters are volunteers, payment is whatever you feel appropriate, and proceeds go to charity. If I was staying longer in Penang, I would quickly become a regular there! Jarold gave us a tutorial of how to eat curry with our hands, and though we were extremely messy, I feel like I could get the hang of it with practice. Apparently if you do it correctly, your fingers shouldn't even touch your mouth at all. </span></div>
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After comforting our full bellies for a spell, a friend of Jarold's picked us up and we all went to Spacebar Coffee for a night cap. I opted for berry tea, while Yannick had a smoothie. It just so happened to be right across the street from China House and comparably hipster, with indoor trees and shabby chic furniture.<br />
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So shabby. So chic! Decidedly tuckered out from the day's activities, we enjoyed a short amble back to our hotels and slept deeply. </div>
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