Off to Melbourne

Fed up with the dullness of the Hume Highway I decided to take a more scenic route home for Christmas. The journey started with a quick ride to the Wombeyan Caves camping area. Our convoy of bikes swept through Captain’s Flat, pausing briefly to pick up some beer for the evening (the hotel is on sale for half a million, I propose we form a syndicate and purchase the property).

The boys at the pub

Next we followed 20 kilometers of dirt where I found my high performance vehicle no longer performed highly. Pinko’s GS 500 and Ash’s fifteen year old 250 constantly left me behind as I learnt the intricacies of off road riding. At the camp site Pinko ran through the basics of hootchie erection.

Learning the skills of a bushtucker man

The next day we meandered on to Bateman’s Bay. I broke my previous land speed record (which is amazing as I never speed). The long sweeping bends of the Clyde brought about endless enjoyment for myself and Pinko (this was a good thing because we had to repeat the route a few times). As expected my GSXR and Pinko’s GS arrived somewhat earlier than Ash’s Honda CB 250. What was unexpected was when Ash arrived in the front seat of a beat old car.

A chauffered drive to the car hire company

The engineer then explained the complications involved in running an engine without oil (engine go BOOM). Our morning consisted determining the most efficient method of transporting a deceased motorbike to Canberra.

What a sad sight!

By 1pm we finally got to the beach, which was just in time for me to say my farewells and continue on my way.

I traveled on the Princes Highway to Bega, before turning off onto the Snowy Mountains Highway. This road is fabulously maintained and was even more fun then the Clyde. I once got the opportunity to practice my cornering ability at speed, and so I indulged. A few hours later I arrived at a Thredbo camping ground. I put my knew found skills in shelter creation to the test and had a hootchie set up in 30mins. Then I trialed my fire making abilities so I could get some dinner heated up. Some scotch and dessert later I fell into bed, praying my hootchie would survive the night.

My fire, dessert and apertiff, and before and after shots of my camp area

My Jacket the next morning

The next morning I found a lovely trail from Thredbo to the summit of Kosciosko and conquered that sucker in 2hrs 5 minutes (11kms and 700m climb).

A good question; I followed all these walks and the summitt trail

A glacial lake, the start of the snowy river and a view from top

Just resting at the top of Australia

I returned via a different route to complete a 27 km trek found my bike, with all my bags, helmet, and bike gear right where I left them. The next stage of this epic adventure had me winding my way through Alpine Way. No lane markings, narrow road, high rock walls made for an exciting ride, especially as I burnt around one blind corner at 60km/hr to see two cars coming towards me occupying both side of the road.

Me after I nearly died

Somehow I survived that mess and was able to enjoy the sites the Snowy Mountains have to offer.

A lookout on Alpine Way. Kosciusko is hidden behind the mountains

The Snowy Mountain Scheme

The rest of the ride home was uneventful. I stopped for lunch at Khancoban at a quant servo/restaurant that services many motorcycle tour groups.

A poster at the servo in Khancoban

Had a beer at Koetong to watch the cricket, and as I passed Tallangatta I pondered: 1. why they moved the town 8 kms west and 2. how one goes about moving a whole town - Simpsons episode anyone? (the town sign proudly states it was the town that moved). It turns out they needed to expand the Hume Dam.

I arrived home soon after, now clearly understanding my complete and utter antipathy for highway driving.

Can't wait to do this again!

Part 5: Hanoi the Second

By this stage I was becoming tired. However there were still many things to do. The torrential rain was interesting as it turned itself off and on like a tap, and hevean forbid if you were caught unprepared. Streets would become kneehigh rivers, flowing with all the muck picked up off the road. Restaurants would bulge with customers as locals and tourists alike would hide from downpour - staff would stand out the front like bouncers stopping more people from entering. I would walk around with a big grin on my face, no doubt confusing all the locals.

My first order of business was to do something touristy. I meandered to a local restaurant - the old Hanoi - and took a cooking lesson. For about $30 a local chef led me on a guided tour of the food markets with two lovely Canadians.

The waitress, the chef, the chef's son and myself. Can you believe the Chef is over forty and her son is fourteen!

Then we sat down to cook four dishes - Rice, prawns, fish, and spring rolls. It was great fun and we got to eat all we cooked (including a dessert). We had a mini cooking competition, which I lost. We were joined by the chef's 14 year old son, and we spent some time playing games.

I enjoy playing games that involve cleaver's

My next mission was to attend another wedding party the following night. I found the restaurant joined a table with fellow english speakers, feasted on the insane amount of food, and preceded to have the time of my life. Before long I was once again involved in drinking games, drowing myself in rice wine with Anna's other brother. Some of the party goers wanted to move on to Karaoke, but I had another idea. You see, I had overheard a little nugget of information for an opportunity that culd not be missed. With a few of the fellas we jumped into a cab and proceeded to the America Club. A measly $2.00 entry fee got us inside, a few more $$ got us some beer and then a whole bunch of us Australians kicked back to enjoy the rock n roll of Regurgitator, live in Vietnam. Whilst dancing I heard someone yell out my name. I turn around to see Sophie, the extremly hot English lady from Halong Bay (She's in Australia now, wish I had her email). Small world huh!

I have no photos of the concert, here is one of me cooking corn, peas and capsicum

The night only got better, if that possible. After the concert we decided to join the Karoake group and soon we were leaping out of cab on a dark street. The can sped off leaving us staring bewildered at the metal shutters on all the storefronts. It was 11:00pm and everything was closed. Where were our friends? Out of the shadows a local appears, asks what we're looking for, and then looking both directions to make sure no one was watching he lifts one of the shutters and lets us crawl under. Enter the Karoake.

Beer, singing, and good mates. Karaoke after hours

We found our friends on the top floor screaming their lungs out and here we stay for an hour before we're finally kicked out. Drunk but not finished we wanted more singing time. Someone knew of a place. A place near the trainstation. A place that was actually someone's home.

This entrepenaur hires out the top floor of his house for Karaoke after the other places were closed. You walk in, through his lounge room and kitchen, climb the stairs and enter a room decked out for a night of revelry.

This is the top floor of some dudes house. We were here for about 5 hours and it only cost us about $1.50 each.

Want a drink, well just wander downstairs, wake up the owner and he'll bring you your drinks, then go back to sleep. To top off this utterky amazing place, it is also known for having the best selection of Western songs in Hanoi. We sang long into the night and early into the morning. I returned home at 5:00am, just as the sun was rising, hoarse and somewhat blind.

My final days were spent firstly trying to spend my remaining dong, and then doing my best to ensure I could eat (I spent too much - budgeting is not my strong point). My last few meals consisted of street vendor chicken noodle soup and vegetarian fried rice. Before I knew I was on a plane cloud hopping back to Australia. It was end of an eventful trip, there were good times, there were great times, and there were fantastic times. I met many friends I would love to see again from all over the world. Hopefully I will find the time to return to Vietnam at some stage in my life.

Its good to be home

Part 4: Halong Bay

Upon arrival in Hanoi from Sapa I proceeded to wait around at the travel agent by myself for three hours as I waited for my next tour to start. I distinctly remember the kindness of the local next to me as he offered my a seat on which to relax, and my own suspicions that the second my buttocks rested on the hard plastic he would jump up shouting, "ten dolla, ten dolla!"

Soon I found myself seated on a mini bus with another Spanish couple, another Israeli couple, a couple fomr North Ireland, 4 somewhat aloof Irish girls (damn that is a comical accent) and one Frenchman, Aurelian. Aurelian is a special man. In the space of a weekend he managed to wipe away 12 years of racial antipathy.

I'm with a Frenchman! Who would have guessed?

Although quiet at first I soon found he was one of the most intelligent men I have ever met (very comfortable discussing Quantum Physcis with me in English - and he is a textile merchant hence no real science eductaion) who has a penchant for chillis that exceeds my own. Once again I was passed from one tour group to another over the three day tour but this time I was accompanied by my new friend from gay Paris (I mean that in the fun sense).

Halong Bay is a beautiful water inlet dotted with magnificant limestone isles, with huge caves filled by wacky rock formations.

A small taste of Halong Bay. Don't worry, due to my total lack of camera battery these are the only photos you'll see

World Heritage Listed, it is also currently ranked as # 2 in the 'New7wonders of nature" (http://www.new7wonders.com/classic/en/index/), so I can guarrantee no words I use can really describe what I saw. I will also note that luck was on my side in that the sun was shining. This apparently never happens in Halong Bay - don't be fooled by postcards.

Anyway the tour really stated when our group climbedthrough a mess of junks to our floating home for the night. The morning was filled with visiting caves and the afternoon was filled sunbathing/reading, eating awesome food and jumping from the roof of the junk into the apprently jellyfish infested waters.

This bay is littered with junk!

No one really wanted to jump, and as most people know I'm not a water person. However Australia had to represent so I donned my swimmers and jump I did. Everyone was really excited and pointed at me yelling. I smiled and waved whilst treading water. One of our Vietnmese hosts appeared a the side of the boat with a ladder, "hi, just swim over there for a second," he calmly says pointing away from the boat. I dutifully follow is instruction, luxuriating in the warm tropical waters. Soon the Irishman joins me in the water a massive grin on his face as he proceeds to explain how close the massive jellyfish was to me...until I moved. No one else joined us in the water. That night we drank cheap cocktails on the roof until midnight then everyone piked. The entire time our hosts amicably prepared our drinks when we woke them up. Funny work culture the Vietnamese have.

A gorgeous section of the cave system we toured. Photos thanks to Charlotte of Ireland.

The next day Aurelain and I changed tour groups and joined one that was much more exciting, their were Chilieans, Belgians, an American, and an Australian - Kylie. We became instant best friends. She lives in Sydney and does stuff. Okay so we weren't best friends. In this group we hiked up a huge mountain which, thanks to my recent training, was a piece of piss. I struggled a bit more climbing to the top of the lookout tower as I usually get a funny dizzy feeling on unstable, metal grated, and incredibly high platforms.

This is really, really high...

But the vista was nothing short of spectacular. On the way down from the mountain I came across the most incredibly hot English lady I've ever met (sorry midwives). Funnliy enough we randomly cross paths a few more times. this day was finished by visting monkey island, where there are monkeys (they are thieves beware). We swam, and played and threw our tourguide in the water.

...and the stairs and platform were none to steady. A part of the floor was completly removable.

The evening/night the followed was one of the best I ever had. First I left the hotel for a walk. I funny veitnamese rode past me on his bike and offered to cut my hair. I mentally offered to perform dental surgery with fist. However, he jumped off his bike at one of the many streetside barber chairs and than offered to shave me. This I agreed to after haggling over the price (about $3). he than pulls out a razor, which placed at my neck. I begin to wonder of I should have been paid a bit more...

This is what I though about as a razor scraped over my jugular

Then I watched some local volleyball whilst drinking beer so warm it needed ice - the lady serving me beer had to run to find me some from another vendor. This was followed by dinnerm turns out the English girl was eating with us, and then drinks. Lots of drinks. We sang karoake, danced and generally made fools out of ourselves. the night ended with Aurelain, Kylie and me talking philosophy and physics.

Before discussing indepth answers to life and the universe I recommend going for a little paddle in the sun. Just as we left our junk I heard my name yelled across the bay. Waving frantically on another junk were my two spanish friends form Sapa: Victor and Gloria.

The next day was a bus ride back to Hanoi. I jumped off the bus in early afternoon and started searching for accomodation with a clear price in mind. I found a nice place and started to haggle. Unfortunately just on cue it started to rain. I don't mean a pleasant drizzle falling from the sky, I'm talking about the heaven's opening up in a deluge as armegeddon strikes in liquid form. The owner smiled politely, I grin ruefully. "$14 a night sounds great."

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.