Part 3 - Sapa Trekking

Sapa is a small tourist town located in the moutainous north west region of Vietnam. It is known for its minority groups, simple villages and opium.

A View to a Sapa

It is reached from Hanoi by boarding an overnight train, in which you share a cabin with 4 or 6 passengers (depending on your class) with beds and you sleep away the 8 hour journey overnight. Its a fantastic idea really.

I shared my cabin with two lovely blonde english midwives and as we had a spare bed whichever of the train staff had a sleep break. I took one of the top bunks (I was supposed to be on the bottom) so it be easier for the sleeping staff to find a bed. However the staff couldn;t figure this conundrum out, so whenever they entered our cabin they were faced with an interesting situation. An empty bed that was supposed to hold a passenger (one Phillip Gatt),

One Phillip Gatt

and another taken bed that was supposed to be empty. Needless to say I was woken up constantly and jabbered at in Vietnamese. There was lots of pointing and waving of the arms before I could convince them I was me.

From the train station to Sapa it was a 1 hour bus ride, but we got to witness the rising of the sun - its morning rays gently urging the blanketing shadow of night to roll back and reveal the lush green valleys, whilst awakening the surrounding moutains to a new day.

The misty mountains no longer sleep

At my hotel I had time for breakfast before being assigned a tour group. I think it was about here that something went wrong. My name didn't seem to exist for any tour group and as you'll find out in the following tale of exploration and discovery (Both here and Halon Bay) I get passed from tour group to tour group like the new baby at a family reunion - no one tells me or asks me in advance, they just do whatever makes them comfortable.

The first days trek was only 6 kms - to a nearby village. We were followed by a gaggle of women from the Black H'Mong tribe. They befriend you and talk limited english all the while soaping you up for when they can guilt trip you into buying their handmade items.

Native Black H'Mong tribe women with a non native Danish tourist

My group was quite awesome. There was a Danish man with his parents and Canadian wife and two super happy-go-lucky Spanish men my own age, Matteo and Ivan. In the first village we saw a typical traditional house.

"Hey, what's up?" " Not much, just Millin." - Here I am grinding corn old style

Made from wood, it consisted of two rooms and a large covered area out the front. The two rooms were used for cooking, eating, and sleeping. It had one small window. The picturesque mouontian village was quite a sight. It had been built on a slope so it had a kind of layered effect. Lots of bamboo pipes delivered water, which was used for various manual labour jobs.

I loved this water pipelines. They would run to large wooden hammers that would rise and fall powered by the water. The hammers would crush anything the villagers needed crushed!

Little kids ran around naked playing in the mini aqueducts and dogs, chickens and pigs constantly hunted for food. We stopped for lunch at cafe right next to a beautiful waterfall.

A Cafe. It sells anything you could desire: soft drink, beer, bamboo, roots and meat popsicles

I bought some super sweet alcohol (bit like a fruit liquer) and ate some food that was cooked right in front of you (skewered meat and some root vegetable).

ANU needs a water feature like this

We returned to Sapa and Matteo, Ivan and I saw some sights, drank some beer and practised our vietnamese (no one understands our 'how are you').

Matt and Ivan being Spanish overlooking Sapa (they taught me naughty spanish words).

Unfortunately my Camera battery died, this afternoon. I spend the rest of the trip shoving my SD card into other people's camera's and taking photos.

Day two trekking started the same. The Black H'Mong women followed us, each lady latching on to the same tourist as the day before (they're clever ones), vicsoulsy defending their territory and becoming quite upset if another peddler tries to but into the 'conversation'. I had two by the end of this leg of the trek. They taught me words from their dialect, gave me a horse and a loveheart made from grass and leaves (the heart was awesome, if I could learn how to make one of these I would never experience a lonely night again - and I did try), and taught me to make sounds from grass (Hilarious!).

Local hawkers. They followed us for three days.

At the end of the journey I bought a tiny bag on a string (purse perhaps) from one of the followers. In it I stored my credit card and some cash, this was hung around my neck for safe keeping - one of my many hiding places for cash (I used four). Much to the dismay - angry dismay I might add - I didn't buy anything from the other follower.

Here I changed tour groups for the first time, joining a group with a Spanish couple, an Isreali couple, and an Italian couple. Once again I found the Spanish, Victor and Gloria, the most fun to be with, but it was a little lonely in that everyone else was in a couple. The new tour guide was a cute vietnamese girl with a great sense of humour.

Me and my guide.

She blushed evertime we pressed her about her boyfriend. We marched through valleys to another village where we were to 'homestay', which is just a glorified term for village hotel.

The view from the homestay. I sat here and drank lots of tiger beer.

This village had at least ten homestay houses and as many pubs. One pub even had a concrete pool table. I drank lots of Tiger beer, much to the amusement of the Israeli's, Omer and Nofar. We slept under mossie nets on mattresses in the attic after a huge dinner and countless card games - a version of shithead I haven't seen since high school.

More goats! Can you believe it? These goats are crossing a bridge.

Our last day took us past the rice fields, where Omer helped the locals, however even the older females were more effective at beating the rice from the stalks than the tourist. Here I ran into the english midwives again and learnt som hebrew ('bekoshi mozi [orez]' - not enough [rice]). This we yelled out to Omer as he desperatly beat the rice against a wooden board, while next to him the slow measured tempo of the natives were much more effective.

Men working hard to get some rice in a fashion only Jimmy Barnes could truly appreciate.

Next we trekked through bamboo forests and ate lunch at a gurgling river. Lunch is funny because the guide has to cook for you. It is tasty though.

Before I knew it I was on a bus been sent back to the train station to once again board the overnight train. I jumped on my carriage wandered to the end and wouldn't you know it, there were the midwives, jumping up and down gleefully pointing at me. My excitement levels rose at the prospect of joining them again, and wouldn't you know it...I got stuck right next door. At first I was a wee bit worried, as I was with two vietnamese, which usually means cigarettes, silence and lights out at 8:00pm. However at the last minute we was joined by a Kiwi girl. We reminisced over life back home, the great times we'd had away and the good times to come...

Until next time Sapa, until next time.

Part 2: The Ninh Binh Wedding

Ninh Binh is a smaller city 90 km south of Hanoi, and quite frankly I loved it. It had great culture to offer and, most importantly, less people. The Aussie crew all met in Hanoi and jumped on a hired bus.

Myself, Karen, and her partner Matt

The two and half hour trip was a time to meet up with the other guests, most of which I hadn’t met. Luckily though high school chum Karen was there with her partner Matt. They intrigued me with stories of their two/three year trip through Europe. Upon arrival at Ninh Binh we checked into a hotel then grabbed a taxi down towards a river and Tam Coc. Tam Coc means three caves, and essentially I saw three caves.

Someone actually lives in countryside like this

It was fun. You get a small boat with two rowers (I shared with one of Anna’s friends from Melbourne). The two rowers we scored were championship paddle wielders, quickly we shot ahead of our friends. No place in Vietnam would be pure if it did not contain hawkers. Sure enough we’d drifted through the first cave a lovely local bumped up beside us in a boat of her own; chock full have water, softdrink, chips, snacks, and anything else you may want. Steadfastly refusing to buy anything (even for our poor thirsty rowers) the hawker left in disgust allowing us to enjoy the incredible scenery and the goats.

Look, Goats!

The next day was the wedding – an event I was extremely excited about. At about midday the groom arrived at the hotel, with his family in tow, to collect his blushing bride.

Khang and his family arrive

They jumped in a car, we jumped on a bus and off we went to the groom’s house for the ceremony/feast.

The guests arrive at the houseAnna's Warm Welcome

Khang and his family, Anna and hers

Unlike our weddings, there is no ceremony as such. The bride is introduced to her new family’s ancestors, everyone eats dinner,

All these people (80+) were fed. the day before the family immediate and extended prepared the food. All the males were outside butchering, cleaning, cutting and cooking the meat with most of the females inside preparng the rest of the food such as salads, spring rolls and sauces. It was a massive undertaking and would have cost a small fortune.

and afterwards they’re married.In Vietnamese custom she is now legally part of his family, and no longer holds ties to her previous family. Of course she spat on that custom by moving back to Australia with Khang

Oh, and the bride has to serve everyone.

This was by far my favourite custom. She is supposed to ensure the teapots are always full and get us beer to entire time. She also served the food. After the day was over she was absolutly buggered. We also dropped everything we could on the ground.

I took sadistic pleasure in forcing my childhood friend to pour my drinks on her very special day. She also had to clean up the following day, so everyone enjoyed making as big a mess as possible (flick up a couple of photos and have a look at the confetti on the ground. Poor, poor Anna).

Dinner was a feast! The main dish was duck, which we had been introduced to the night before (they were swimming merrily in a pond).

This was my table about 40 minutes after dinner was served - we barely put a dent in the food. Look at all those prawns...

The main entertainment was drinking games and rice wine. There were some communication barriers, in that I don’t speak Vietnamese and they don’t speak English.

Matt, Eric and myself. Eric lives in Vietnam but isn't vietnamese (could be Aussie, I can't remember). Apparently great at Karaoke, but we won't know for sure until Hanoi the Second.

As a result I didn’t understand anything that was going on, but I decided the most important rules to these games were to:

Drink and laugh.
Repeat everything they said (in Vietnamese)
When I wanted to speak say it loudly and slowly
Draw pictures in my book (universal language).

It was about this time that I decided an awesome to get lots of photographs of all these people I didn't know whilst expended as little energy as possible would be to give my camera to the gaggle of children running around. This was the result...

The end of the night is a bit hazy, but everyone was splendidly drunk.

While I'd love to tell you his name I still don't know which is his first and which is his last. We drank a lot of beer and a lot of rice wine

My newly made friends insisted I didn’t walk to the bus and for some reason persisted in trying to carry me, however this endeavour was hilariously unsuccessful. They finally succeeded and I was picked up and deposited into my bus seat amid lots of laughter.
The next day the Aussies returned to Hanoi and there we parted ways (never fear, they will return in Part 5 - Hanoi the Second). I wandered to my travel agent ready for my next adventure – trekking in Sapa.

Myself, Anna and Karen. Just like High School - except I'm in a collar, Karen's in a dress, and Anna's married.

Part 1: Hanoi the first

Hanoi was my first taste of Vietnam, and to be honest it tasted luke warm and quite damp – but that is probably the way Vietnam is at nine o’clock at night. My first goal was to get to my hotel, which I managed to do quite easily by a very friendly minibus ride. I found out later they were super friendly because I paid seven times the proper amount – which was still unbelievably cheap for a 30 km ride (I paid more for the chauffeured drive when I returned to the airport 14 days later).
I had one day to spend in Hanoi and so the next morning I rose early and leapt onto the back of a motorbike taxi. I soon found myself immersed in traffic, there were vehicles everywhere, all of which my driver ignored as he forged his own path through oncoming traffic on multiple occasions.

Look at all that traffic. At 7:00am. it can only get worse

I amused myself by closing my eyes and seeing how many times I could recite the Hail Mary.
Only slightly ruffled I arrived in the Old Quarter – a shopping district. I walked around for a bit, bought clothes (I only brought the clothes I was wearing and my suit for the wedding), a cheap arse watch, and some souvenirs for the family. It was a great day really, when I got thirsty I bought cheap beer, when I got hungry I bought cheap food.

My first meal. Its crab. Ot cost less than five dollars and it was awesome. I have since eaten eel, goat, duck, frog and a variety of other animals. While I couldn't find dog or rat I was able to find Shitted shredded meat (see below menu - last entry)

I only got ripped off a couple of times, and still was better of than if I was in Australia. One time I even left an outdoor café when I saw the beer price was equivalent to $3.00 AUS.

After dinner I did some touristy stuff

Me being touristy. I felt I should take a photo of the statue, although I don't know what he did.

and then sat and watched the locals play some sport after work. There was Badminton, a shuttlecock game using you feet and even breakdancers.

Shuttlecock, on the street

Look! Breakdancers. How funny.

Those bastards. I eventually retired at a place called LePub, mostly attended by foreigners. I met many an Aussie whilst I drank beer (they sold Coopers!!!!!)

If you look real close the top two entries in the right column on this menu are Coopers Sparkling and Coopers Pale Ales.

and true to my traveling form ended up spending most of the night with the owner, an agreeable Englishman. I also met the owner of a local Indian restaurant (but I had no reason to visit an Indian restaurant in Vietnam), and an Aussie with a huge set of hooters.

Speaking of Aussies in Vietnam - look what I found.

She delighted in recounting tales of how her oversized anatomy caused near traffic accidents whilst traveling around southeast asia. This eventful day ended by a return motorbike taxi ride home, unfortunately my backpack was open and I lost all the clothes I bought.

A good looking Aussie far from home.

Vietnam

Vietnam, pearl of the orient, was the destination of my most recent travels. For two weeks I journeyed through the lush northern provinces soaking up culture much like a hungover body sponges up water; not always because I wanted to, but just because it would be good for me. I met many a friend while I was away, both domestic and fellow travelers alike, and for the brief moments in which our paths crossed so shall the shared story be told.
Above is ‘the story in five parts’ of the highs and the lows of the time I spent away from home.

30 years later...

There were those who had no faith. Some said it couldn't be done. However, words and sentiments can never hold back true champions. We entered the season as last year's wooden spooners. We were not fazed, finishing the season fourth. We entered the finals, valiently holding the last spot available. Three games against the three best teams in the tournament - Real Fisica, F&S strikers, and RSBS. Real Fisica fell, like so many others. They didn't see a soccer team that had pushed their way to fourth, but a bunch of chemists who ahd finished last in 2007. Two RSC goals in the first 10 minutes sealed the fate, arrogance being their downfall.

Similarly F&S let pride rule their game. Early goals to our imported fowards Neil (Scotland) and Nick (Netherlands I think), followed by a late goal to Neil kicked the most hated team out of the tournament (F&S are a bunch of cheats).

I take the ball through the middle against the cheats

This left only RSBS. Biologists. Stamp collecters. Soccer players. The last game of the season saw us playoff, in which we had lost 1-0. But this was a new game. This was the Grand Final. And unbeknown to them, this time we had a full sqaud. They had come through the season nearly undefeated and had held the top spot on the ladder all year. Unlike the other finals contenders RSBS recognized that we had not made the finals through chance. The played well, they played strong. They scored a goal. The goal was scrappy. The goal was messy, but for the first time in this finals series we were staring at defeat. At halftime we were a confused huddle. We were losing what could we do. There was only one obvious answer - give the ball to Neil. Five minutes in to the second half his sublime skills and powerful right foot found the ball in the back of the net. One all and RSBS turned up the heat. Their constant attacks up their left wing met a solid wall of RSC defenders.

The Defence team (minus Katie and Zatish). Solid as a rock.

The defence constantly jumping on any loose ball, calls of 'no shot, no shot' filled the air as RSBS strikers tried to break the deadlock. It was a sudden break that finished the game. With only a few minutes to go a striker sped up the right wing, ball at his feet, trailed by a string of defenders vainly trying to put a stop the fleeing man. Suddenly the striker was confronted with a goal keeper as well, unfazed the forward unselfishly slots the ball across the face of the goal splitting the defenders and goal keeper perfectly. At the far post one striker and one defender strove to be the first to the ball. Each one to be a hero to their team. Poised in majesty they stretched the feet, the ball riccocheting of Neils foot - across the line - into the goal. A forest of arms shot into the air. The loud cheers rocked the nearby sports union.

The RSC soccer team. 2008 Purple Shin's champions.

RSBS watched on in stunned silence. It was game over. There was nothing they could do. RSC had won. For the first time in thirty years the purple shin (we think its actually a femur) graces our Foyer. Once again chemists all over can stand tall on the soccer field...

Some of us had important research to do. However we also had important drinking and celebrating to do.

Just look at tht trophy!