The Asian Project

We are now in the lovely joint known as Hoi An, a world heritage listed spot famed for its tailors.  Matt and I have already had ourselves fitted out for suits and we are just about to go for the first fitting.  Awesome.

There is clearly no pot in this place.  Bugger.  However after the craziness of Hanoi, Hoi An is like a little country town.  Hanoi Helen managed to score us a night in the ritziest hotel in town (and possibly Vietnam) for free.  This meant live it up time.  We spent the first few hours swanning around in bath robes sipping complimentary champagne and throwing sherds of pottery at the poor people.

The internet here in Hoi An, however, is clearly run by a mouse on a broken treadmill.  And the same mouse seems to cope with running the telephone lines.  A call to Oz basically consisted of repeated goes until the thing finally got through at some point.  Fuck me.  That was obviously karma for throwing the pottery.

Hanoi Helen and I rented a moto-bike and took the mofo all the way to Marble Mountains.  This spot is unbelievable, with a whole shitload of temples and pagodas covering the mountain, which also consists of countless grottos, all filled with buddhas carved from the very livin rock.  Unbelievable.  The moto-bike experience was rool cool.  I want one.  The only thing was that I had to constantly be reminded of Helen clinging to the back of me that theydrive on the OTHER side of the road here.  Well, mostly they do.

I'm off for a walking tour of the old town here this arvo.  It actually costs to get in there.  50,000 dong (about $4.50 or so).  Nice work if you can get it.

So apparently today a bridge collapsed in southern Vietnam.  Just so everyone is clear, we were nowhere near it and it wasn't actually our fault.  Well not really...

We are looking at a 15 hour train ride to Danang tonight.  Luckily we have  beds on this train, so hopefully, with the help of something, we will sleep through the whole thing and wake up in sunny Danang.  Aaaaaah Danang.  China Beach.  It takes me back to the dark days before Pearl Harbour.

I forgot to mention that a couple of nights ago, I managed to go into a ca phe (cafe) and order food, drink, payand refuse the change, all without speaking a word of English.  I may be starting to forget my mother tongue.  Me talk good over ingle ish yet.  No probbie thar.

Typically, just on the day that we are about to leave Hanoi, I believe I have JUST begun to figure out its maze of streets, etc a little tiny bit.  I was even able to direct a taxi driver that didn't really know where the fuck he was going.  Now I have to deal with Saigon.  Shit.

Hanoi is full on, really.  I am now really looking forward to getting on down the road to the smaller cities in the middle of the country:  Hoi An, Hue, Danang, etc.  It will be nice to have a non-beeping soundscape and maybe even some thinner air.  Plus, there's beaches there.  YAY!

Matt and I actually managed to book three tickets on the Danang train today, which we found to be quite an accomplishment.  Simple because you walk into Ga Ha Noi (Hanoi Railway Station) and EVERYTHING is in Vietnamese.  I think we're on the right train.  If not, I'll be blogging from an OPEC nation or something.

Not much been going on the last two days, just drinking crap scotch, walking around, ordering food, buying shit and looking at stuff.  Awesome.  But tomorrow, our Hanoi Part 1 scenario finishes and we get the hell on outta here for a bit.

I must say, Matt is the most entertaining travel companion I have ever had.  Pure gold.  This is the comedy oddysey.  Or however the fuck you spell that.  Next year, it will be the comedy Iliad, when we tackle wood with a trojan.

Roger, roger.

The one thing I am definitely NOT at home to here is the air.  It is think like meringue and, being a smoker, makes my chest as heavy as the contents of the Three Gorges Dam.  Hack.

Hanoi Helen and I went on out for a spot of French cuisine last night, which was very delightful indeed.  This was followed by lots and lots and lots and lots and lots of scotch and vodka at some nightclub that floateth upon the Red River.  Seemed like every expat or vacationer that I have met (except Fucking Sharon - YAY!) was there.  Grand old night featuring me almost falling into the river at one point when I missed a step.  Not to worry, it would have been nowhere near as bad as falling into the Torrens OR the Yarra.

So I'm hungover today.  Way hungover.  And to really rub in the insult, the proprietors of the hotel that we are currently in fucked up and double booked us with a French bunch who had just rocked up from Ha Long.  So we are spending tonight in a broom closet with the promise that our original and rather swanky room will be restored to us tomorrow night.  Better be.

We found a whitie-style supermarket (lame) and have been imbibing cheese on ritz crackers, milo and assorted other things that remind me of the dark days before coming to Asia.  I really needed a bowl of cornflakes.  I have to say that I have had some of the best Eggs Benedict I have ever had (or at least the hollandaise) at a little joint called Cafe Puku in Hang Trong.  Go there if you are ever in the neighbourhood.  There is a Vietnamese hornbag there of MONUMENTAL proportions.  I will try to bag him next time I'm there.

Right well it's back to the ritz crackers, milo and Discovery channel for me.  Thankyou Vietnam.

Did I mention Ha Long Bay?  Probably.  It's spectacular shit in the classically Asian style.  There are a lot of native plastic bags afloatin in the bay and some oil slicks here and there, but that didn't stop me from diving on in.  That should take a few years off my life.

The social observations that were to be had on the Ha Long trip, or more precisely the bus trip back to Hanoi, revolved around a young woman from Australia whom I will henceforth refer to as Fucking Sharon, just because that's what I think of her.  Fucking Sharon was from Sydney (which I am convinced is the shittest city in Australia now - four words:  race riots/John Howard).  It all began at the hotel at ha Long City where we stopped for lunch.  "Fido Dido! I can't belive how far behind this country is," says Fucking Sharon, loudly. 

Then it's all about the food and how "they" just can't get that right; the beer, the weather, the bread stalls in the middle of nowhere (that is actually a brilliant innovation in my humble opinion - you just don't know when you'll need bread), and anything else that was basically Vietnamese.  Fucking Sharon is exactly what I hate:  the bad tourist.  I was literally on the edge with that bitch, meaning I was gonna knee her in the groin and remind her that we are actually in the northern hemisphere now, where Australia doesn't actually matter that much.  If I ever run into Fucking Sharon again, I will throw hot pho and a bowl of the black gutter filth at her.  But then she'd probably just think that the gutter filth here isn't QUITE as good as the stuff back in Sidders.

I ate at three, count them THREE Japanese restaurants, the night before last here in Hanoi.  I went out to them with Hanoi Helen, as she needed to review three of them for her magazine.  I ate about a pound of raw salmon, mackerel and tuna that evening and half a bottle of warm sake.  YUM!  We also discovered that "Japanese people cannot spoon".  Ask me about that someother time.

I actually seem to be able to communicate well enough with my tiny bit of Vietnamese.  I just can't help trying on new languages and Vietnamese is the first Asian language I have ever slipped into.  I make no pretense of knowing the grammer or anything, just things like khong (no - VERY handy), vang (yes), da kwa! (cost too much!), cam on (thankyou), etc.

Last night Matt and I managed to score our first bit of street smokery in Hanoi.  Thank god really, as it very much helps to enhance the whole experience.  Our dude is a little too keen to make money from you, but he's not quite as full on as the hat ladies here, who will tail you for a block trying to flog you a hat with a red star.  I did actually buy one to keep the sun off my ever-exposed dome and I did it via haggling for my maiden time.  I WON!  I think.

And just as a note of interest, I haven't worn my beanie once in the last ten days.  Think about that.

Fuck the children...

in Vietnam are cute.  I mean ROOL cute.  Like little bush babies.  There is something called the Moon Festival coming up and the children are a big part of this apparently.  There are toys for sale all over Hanoi at the moment. 

We spent the last couple of days in the famous Ha Long Bay.  A night on a junk with a tour nazi and a whole lot of rice wine that Hanoi Helen and I downed rather copiously.  Awesome.  Helen and I were dubbed "undisciplined tourists" by the tour nazi after taking way too fucking long on the kayaks.  He actually rowed out to us and tied our kayak to his and towed us back to the fushing village.  How fucking embarrassing. 

Ha Long is, however, everything you would expect it to be.  Awesomely beautiful. I was a little disappointed by the amount of floating crap in the water (oil slicks, plastic, etc). But that's humanity for ya.

Had my first Vietnamese massage last night but was a little let down by the lack of the offer of a "happy ending".  Maybe I need to make that a little more visibly clear next time...

Phil and Matt are in the Asian building. 

I have to say from the outset that Malaysian Airlines are unbelievably schmick.  Fly anything on it.  Hot towelettes as soon as you're on the plane.  Awesome. 

KL airport proudly announces that it is the "world's best".  I found it a bit crap.  We had three hours there to kill and kill them we did, mainly by riding the train between the terminals numerous times.  It was hard enough just to find an internet terminal in the joint and when we did, it is so goddam limited in what you are allowed to do it made me want to puke.  Not even a back button or right clicking.  WTF? 

Hanoi.  What a town.  This joint has everything!  From the most over the top traffic scenario I have ever had the pleasure of being a part of to snake's blood for men's enhancment.  Being amongst the traffic is gold.  You are literally at times driving into oncoming traffic.  Very exhilarating.  There is food everywhere and also Bia Hoi (fresh beer) and plenty o that has been had since we arrived.

The Vietnamese are a very goodlooking bunch.  I am particularly impressed by the women.  Amazing things they are.

The star is out tonight (there is only one here it would seem) and during the daytime you can just make out the moon through the thick and rather shitful cloud of filth that hangs permanently over the city.  The gutters are continuously running with some kind of black fluid which you really should avoid getting on you.  I didn't. 

We hooked up pretty quickly with Matt's mate Hanoi Helen at her house.  Whilst there before we went out, it absolutely pissed down, causing some minor flooding.  What was gold about this was as we walked out, Helen (in a lovely summer frock and high heels, sloshed along happily through the water, noting to us that some of it would likely be sewerage overflow.  That's dignity.  What was interesting for me was that I had no qualms about sloshing through that myself.  It's all a matter of context.