Well Gillian and I made it to China! This is our last country to travel before coming home, but we still have over a month to go. We had a very adventurous Easter, we took a 18 hour bus journey on 3 different buses from Hanoi, Vietnam to Guilin, China. Leaving Vietnam was a chaotic mess of people shoving to get their exit stamps. While waiting in the mess a people we made friends with 3 Canadians and discovered that we paid 3 times as much for our Chinese visas simply because we are American! There was a very clear distinction between the disorder of the Vietnam boarder and the sudden organization of the Chinese boarder. We were placed in a golf cart mini van and driven all of 500 meters which we were not allowed to walk to Chinese immigration. Surprisingly neither of us had any problems and we made it through just fine. We were able to fine our bus okay thanks to the signs they made us put around our necks like kindergartners that in Chinese said what bus we were on. Guilin is one of the China's oldest tourist cities due to the amazing natural beauty of the region. We have seen more hills and caves in the past week then I have seen in my entire 26 years and the everyone of the hills has a funny name and a temple at the top. To me the city is very western and modern. We got to stay with Gillian's good friend, Elsie, who way the best tour guide yet! We took 2 days and went to the Longji Rice Terraces which are only about 2 hours form Guilin. The rice terraces are even better then the pictures and a wonder just to see how they were made and still being farmed. It was a great break for us. We stayed the night in the village of Ping'an which is in the middle of the terraces. We hiked the second day to a little village about 3 hours away up and down stairs, over hill after hill. Along the way we meet a women from the local village who was bugging us to have lunch at her house. We thought if we told her we do not eat meet, she would give up.....but no. She used it to her advantage and began picking wild greens and baby bamboo for our lunch. After 2 hours of hiking with her we gave in and had an amazing lunch at her home. She brought us into her home which was a larger wooden structure which was basically one huge room. We hung out with her mother who was 76 years old and still working way chopping wild greens for the animals. We were watching our hostest build a open fire in one corner of the house and cooking our lunch when we heard pigs. We were trying to figure out were the pigs were since we could hear them but not see them anywhere. The 76 year old grandmother mixed up a pot of mush which we feared was our lunch, but then she picked up two of the wooden floor boards and lowered the mush down to the pigs. She then swept all of the scraps on the floor into the whole of the pigs to eat. That is what I call efficiency. We had an amazing time the rice terraces. The experience was peaceful and beautiful . We both would have loved to spend a week there.
Sunday, April 19, 2009
Saturday, April 11, 2009
hue're did ya go?
the last time we spoke, i was still writing about hoi an...and as promised, i will continue to for the sake of rita, my mother, and ellen's family.
we were eating food...normal stuff, strolling the streets of the ancient city, when we were pounced upon by the tailors of hoi an. shop after shop was exploding with rolls of colorful wool and silk, plastic buttons, and dusty magazines from the late 90's. we had been forewarned of the seductive power of these tailors, but as recent fashion victims, we both embraced the opportunity to try on clothing that hadn't been worn five days in a row or emblazoned with bad english phrases or glitter. flipping through a korean fall/winter catalogue from 2008, i found my jacket match; a short wool jacket with slight princess sleeves that reeked of long nights of bike riding and drinking beer in new york city (with a helmet). dog-earring the page, i promised the sales associate that i'd return tomorrow after making my final decision.
sadly, we had to flee the scene by 8ish in order to secure seating by the river for the "lights out hour". i don't know it's international title, but we were informed that at 8 o'clock, everyone would shut off their power for an hour in conjunction with the rest of the world. elbowing our way onto a lantern-lit bridge, we could see locals setting lotus-shaped paper lanterns containing candles out onto the water. those on the shore who couldn't quite figure out how to get their lanterns onto the water simply dropped them in, hoping they would float. they didn't, but it was quite sweet as fits of laughter were periodically heard following a loud splash.
as per usual, we rented bikes the next day and headed to the beach. we argued with a parking lot attendant (yes, you "must" use designated lots) and then tromped off to argue with the beach chair renters. my day was spent collecting shells, adjusting a major wedgie, drinking iced coffee, swimming laps in the nearby pool (the beach chair rental included pool access!) and yelling at ellen while i tried to draw people sunning. on our return ride, we sped past some of the tailors we had visited the previous evening and vowed that after showering, we would take the plunge and commit to having some clothes made.
i awarded the first tailor shop with the honour of making my crazy cool jacket. the outside is a royal blue wool and ellen helped me choose a gold silk pattern that my grandmother would have appreciated as the lining. spreading the wealth, we asked another tailor to make us both sundresses from jersey material. tired from living the high life, we headed back to the same vegetarian restaurant to indulge yet again in noodle/tofu eden.
on day three we caved and signed up for yet another tour, this time to the ruins of my son. we specifically asked the travel agent to simply get us bus tickets; no tour talk, no bad lunches, etc. we ended up on a tour bus anyway, but the guide was quite animated and kept me mildly entertained. the ruins were good, but it was hard to not compare them to angkor wat, or even the other champa ruins that we had seen in nha trang. they fell a bit shorter on the magical scale, but there honestly wasn't much left to see. according to mr. animated, the americans had bombed this area, believing that it was a viet cong stronghold.
since it was a half-day tour, we were back in the city by lunch time. at a small restaurant, we befriended a fellow american from seattle who oddly resembled an older version of my brother. we made plans to meet for dinner and parted ways; ellen and i set out to discover the old city and he went to do some man things. according to the tour books, for 75,000 dong you could purchase a ticket to enter all of the chinese merchant houses/temples...or, you could show up an hour before closing and play dumb while wandering through the courtyards and shooting pictures before being approached by the ticket collectors.
we returned to the tailors for our second fittings and met our american pal in order to introduce him to the glory that was "quay chay". after stuffing our faces, we headed to the riverside to drink some "fresh beer", which i assume means locally brewed. we were a bit tipsy as we walked back to our cockroach/ant infested room which made falling asleep with the insects crawling around a bit easier.
day four...the reappearance of the motorbike! ellen and i rented a mean machine and headed out to marble mountain and china beach. it was raining heavily as we approached the main mountain's base and took refuge in a marble shop. we were coerced into buying coffee (which im always up for) and ponchos in exchange for the shopkeeper watching our helmets. climbing a mountain composed of marble in cheap flip flops was not ideal, but that's all i had to work with. whilst trying to relieve myself during our ascent, i was surprised by the presence of a tangerine colored japanese tourist who happened upon us. ellen was supposed to be on look-out duty, but apparently it was my fault, as i neglected to realize that her shouting, "oh what a lovely day!" meant that someone was approaching. recovered, we continued through several temple areas and caves before hand-and-foot climbing up a sketchy staircase that led to a look out point. it was quite a view and we tried to plot our path to the beach.
riding off, we were still a bit apprehensive about how to reach the shoreline, as the areas along the water had been fenced off into small parcels that might have denoted private land, landmines, who knows. choosing a small path that led to a guest house, we parked the bike with a local woman who made us swear to buy beverages from her at a later point in the day. i had my fingers crossed.
it was still cold and rainy and the tide was pretty high. we waded in the water for a few minutes, before jumping back on the bike to dine at a local roadside restaurant. in china, eating at smaller restaurants with locals is always cheaper than the western wannabee establishments, and in vietnam, this rule holds true as well...most of the time. after scarfing down a modest meal of rice, tofu, and some sad greens, the woman slapped us with a 60,000 dong bill. ellen argued her down to 40, but neither party was pleased as we sped off back towards the hotel.
our plans for later in the day included visiting a small potter's village. we had a general circle of where it was on the map, but figured the locals would just point us in the direction of a potter as it was a hot spot on the tourist circuit. by chance, we ended up in the driveway of a family who were potters! they adopted us for several hours and let us prance through their yard and home. ellen made some pots while i conversed with their youngest son who spoke pretty good english. the father took a liking to me because well, i make pretty animated faces, and showed me his wedding photos, along with those of his ten children. we were even awarded free souvenirs as we said our goodbyes. one of the potters even fed us some corn.
back in town, we picked up ellen's dress and split a chocolate pastry to die for. i believe ellen has mentioned this pastry in a previous post. we had a few hours to catch some shut-eye before our bus to hue. part three in the works...
we were eating food...normal stuff, strolling the streets of the ancient city, when we were pounced upon by the tailors of hoi an. shop after shop was exploding with rolls of colorful wool and silk, plastic buttons, and dusty magazines from the late 90's. we had been forewarned of the seductive power of these tailors, but as recent fashion victims, we both embraced the opportunity to try on clothing that hadn't been worn five days in a row or emblazoned with bad english phrases or glitter. flipping through a korean fall/winter catalogue from 2008, i found my jacket match; a short wool jacket with slight princess sleeves that reeked of long nights of bike riding and drinking beer in new york city (with a helmet). dog-earring the page, i promised the sales associate that i'd return tomorrow after making my final decision.
sadly, we had to flee the scene by 8ish in order to secure seating by the river for the "lights out hour". i don't know it's international title, but we were informed that at 8 o'clock, everyone would shut off their power for an hour in conjunction with the rest of the world. elbowing our way onto a lantern-lit bridge, we could see locals setting lotus-shaped paper lanterns containing candles out onto the water. those on the shore who couldn't quite figure out how to get their lanterns onto the water simply dropped them in, hoping they would float. they didn't, but it was quite sweet as fits of laughter were periodically heard following a loud splash.
as per usual, we rented bikes the next day and headed to the beach. we argued with a parking lot attendant (yes, you "must" use designated lots) and then tromped off to argue with the beach chair renters. my day was spent collecting shells, adjusting a major wedgie, drinking iced coffee, swimming laps in the nearby pool (the beach chair rental included pool access!) and yelling at ellen while i tried to draw people sunning. on our return ride, we sped past some of the tailors we had visited the previous evening and vowed that after showering, we would take the plunge and commit to having some clothes made.
i awarded the first tailor shop with the honour of making my crazy cool jacket. the outside is a royal blue wool and ellen helped me choose a gold silk pattern that my grandmother would have appreciated as the lining. spreading the wealth, we asked another tailor to make us both sundresses from jersey material. tired from living the high life, we headed back to the same vegetarian restaurant to indulge yet again in noodle/tofu eden.
on day three we caved and signed up for yet another tour, this time to the ruins of my son. we specifically asked the travel agent to simply get us bus tickets; no tour talk, no bad lunches, etc. we ended up on a tour bus anyway, but the guide was quite animated and kept me mildly entertained. the ruins were good, but it was hard to not compare them to angkor wat, or even the other champa ruins that we had seen in nha trang. they fell a bit shorter on the magical scale, but there honestly wasn't much left to see. according to mr. animated, the americans had bombed this area, believing that it was a viet cong stronghold.
since it was a half-day tour, we were back in the city by lunch time. at a small restaurant, we befriended a fellow american from seattle who oddly resembled an older version of my brother. we made plans to meet for dinner and parted ways; ellen and i set out to discover the old city and he went to do some man things. according to the tour books, for 75,000 dong you could purchase a ticket to enter all of the chinese merchant houses/temples...or, you could show up an hour before closing and play dumb while wandering through the courtyards and shooting pictures before being approached by the ticket collectors.
we returned to the tailors for our second fittings and met our american pal in order to introduce him to the glory that was "quay chay". after stuffing our faces, we headed to the riverside to drink some "fresh beer", which i assume means locally brewed. we were a bit tipsy as we walked back to our cockroach/ant infested room which made falling asleep with the insects crawling around a bit easier.
day four...the reappearance of the motorbike! ellen and i rented a mean machine and headed out to marble mountain and china beach. it was raining heavily as we approached the main mountain's base and took refuge in a marble shop. we were coerced into buying coffee (which im always up for) and ponchos in exchange for the shopkeeper watching our helmets. climbing a mountain composed of marble in cheap flip flops was not ideal, but that's all i had to work with. whilst trying to relieve myself during our ascent, i was surprised by the presence of a tangerine colored japanese tourist who happened upon us. ellen was supposed to be on look-out duty, but apparently it was my fault, as i neglected to realize that her shouting, "oh what a lovely day!" meant that someone was approaching. recovered, we continued through several temple areas and caves before hand-and-foot climbing up a sketchy staircase that led to a look out point. it was quite a view and we tried to plot our path to the beach.
riding off, we were still a bit apprehensive about how to reach the shoreline, as the areas along the water had been fenced off into small parcels that might have denoted private land, landmines, who knows. choosing a small path that led to a guest house, we parked the bike with a local woman who made us swear to buy beverages from her at a later point in the day. i had my fingers crossed.
it was still cold and rainy and the tide was pretty high. we waded in the water for a few minutes, before jumping back on the bike to dine at a local roadside restaurant. in china, eating at smaller restaurants with locals is always cheaper than the western wannabee establishments, and in vietnam, this rule holds true as well...most of the time. after scarfing down a modest meal of rice, tofu, and some sad greens, the woman slapped us with a 60,000 dong bill. ellen argued her down to 40, but neither party was pleased as we sped off back towards the hotel.
our plans for later in the day included visiting a small potter's village. we had a general circle of where it was on the map, but figured the locals would just point us in the direction of a potter as it was a hot spot on the tourist circuit. by chance, we ended up in the driveway of a family who were potters! they adopted us for several hours and let us prance through their yard and home. ellen made some pots while i conversed with their youngest son who spoke pretty good english. the father took a liking to me because well, i make pretty animated faces, and showed me his wedding photos, along with those of his ten children. we were even awarded free souvenirs as we said our goodbyes. one of the potters even fed us some corn.
back in town, we picked up ellen's dress and split a chocolate pastry to die for. i believe ellen has mentioned this pastry in a previous post. we had a few hours to catch some shut-eye before our bus to hue. part three in the works...
Monday, April 6, 2009
ahoi an!!!!
sipping festival beers, man-handling moist maps of the dmz, eagerly awaiting a vegetarian feast, and comparing blurry memories of hoi an...this is how we chose to spend our remaining hours in hue.
our previous home, hoi an (which can also spell "hanoi" with a shake of a scrabble bag); was reached via a local bus from da nang. the khaki clad ticket matron who ushered us to the bus seemed toothy enough, and offered us back seats which gave us ample room to store our packs. while cruising down the street, nodding at the locals, feeling the slight breeze caress my sunburned cheek, life seemed pretty sweet...until the entrance of an additional khaki clad ticket matron, emanating venom from his eyes. elbow nudges followed. it was time to start watching the bills that were being exchanged so we could approximate what the fare would be. he brought it harder than we ever expected.
levitating through the chaos of the upper bus region, he landed directly in front of us, gibber-jabbered, and drew a "30" in the air with his finger. this meant that we were each to pay him 30,000 dong (about $2...A RIDE ON THE Q TRAIN!). a boy hunched over by the back door muttered that 10,000 was an appropriate price. khaki venom gave him the eyes and our comrade quickly fiddled with his fake ray bans. we did jazz hands to show him we'd pay 10 each. shaking his head no, he simultaneously re-drew the "30" in the air. awkwardness suffused through the vehicle as the other riders tried to calculate our next move. waving him towards the front of the bus, we told venom we'd pay him once he returned. stalling him would give us additional time to build up our defense.
3 minutes later, he was back, wiggling his finger about, looking more perturbed than previously.
he did his little "30" move.
"no!" i shot back. "why do we have to pay three times the actual price?"
this time he pointed at our day packs and our big guns stuffed underneath the seats.
"you want us to pay extra for the bags?!?!?!"
he shook his head "yes" with a satisfied grin. i was not having it. i started to point at the bags on the laps of all the women, children, dogs, chickens, etc. sitting around us. i mean, some guy had his bicycle on the bus!
i retorted with a firm "no" as he tried to wrangle my pack out from under my seat. i think he was trying to psyche me out into thinking he'd actually toss it off the bus, but it was too heavy for even him to move. in the midst of the pandemonium, two young boys from an english speaking country that i couldn't quite identify jumped on the rear of the bus, two packs and a guitar in tow. sensing allies, we quickly informed them of our situation as venom approached. completely apathetic to our plight, as their bar mitzvah money was probably paying for their little excursion, they gleefully forked over 60,000 dong.
with lust in his eyes, venom approached again. i pointed at the bamboo staffs and sticks others had placed on the floor. "how much do you charge for sticks?" i screeched. the boys looked embarrassed for me. i started to feel embarrassed for me, and in the end we each handed him 20,000. he had fed his rip-off the foreigner hunger and lingered towards the front of the bus, hyucking it up with his friends for the remainder of the journey.
wriggling our way off the bus in hoi an, we decided to employ the "wait at a coffee stall on the side of the road until all the annoying motorbike drivers leave" method before finding lodging. ellen reviewed the local map, while i pointed and laughed at venom who was enjoying a sugar cane juice with some local ladies. i think i killed his game, or at least damaged it for awhile. determined to make up for the extra dong we had spent, we started our trek towards the backpacker area, only to give up three minutes into it because my shoulder still hurt from my daredevil incident, and hopped on the back of some hondas.
shockingly, most of the hotels, even those not listed in the "bible" were full. it was hot and we wanted to swim. another honda driver pointed us down alley towards a hotel that had feasible rooms and a baby that i liked. after a brief siesta, we interviewed the hotel staff about vegetarian restaurants that were not geared towards tourists. meandering and looping through several alleyways, we reached "quay chay," a little red plastic chair vegetarian haven located in a family's front yard. we managed to order a pho with tofu, which i doused with too much chili, but forced myself to eat it anyway. they were happy, we were happy, and another baby was semi-happy as its grandfather paraded it through the yard.
day two to follow...
our previous home, hoi an (which can also spell "hanoi" with a shake of a scrabble bag); was reached via a local bus from da nang. the khaki clad ticket matron who ushered us to the bus seemed toothy enough, and offered us back seats which gave us ample room to store our packs. while cruising down the street, nodding at the locals, feeling the slight breeze caress my sunburned cheek, life seemed pretty sweet...until the entrance of an additional khaki clad ticket matron, emanating venom from his eyes. elbow nudges followed. it was time to start watching the bills that were being exchanged so we could approximate what the fare would be. he brought it harder than we ever expected.
levitating through the chaos of the upper bus region, he landed directly in front of us, gibber-jabbered, and drew a "30" in the air with his finger. this meant that we were each to pay him 30,000 dong (about $2...A RIDE ON THE Q TRAIN!). a boy hunched over by the back door muttered that 10,000 was an appropriate price. khaki venom gave him the eyes and our comrade quickly fiddled with his fake ray bans. we did jazz hands to show him we'd pay 10 each. shaking his head no, he simultaneously re-drew the "30" in the air. awkwardness suffused through the vehicle as the other riders tried to calculate our next move. waving him towards the front of the bus, we told venom we'd pay him once he returned. stalling him would give us additional time to build up our defense.
3 minutes later, he was back, wiggling his finger about, looking more perturbed than previously.
he did his little "30" move.
"no!" i shot back. "why do we have to pay three times the actual price?"
this time he pointed at our day packs and our big guns stuffed underneath the seats.
"you want us to pay extra for the bags?!?!?!"
he shook his head "yes" with a satisfied grin. i was not having it. i started to point at the bags on the laps of all the women, children, dogs, chickens, etc. sitting around us. i mean, some guy had his bicycle on the bus!
i retorted with a firm "no" as he tried to wrangle my pack out from under my seat. i think he was trying to psyche me out into thinking he'd actually toss it off the bus, but it was too heavy for even him to move. in the midst of the pandemonium, two young boys from an english speaking country that i couldn't quite identify jumped on the rear of the bus, two packs and a guitar in tow. sensing allies, we quickly informed them of our situation as venom approached. completely apathetic to our plight, as their bar mitzvah money was probably paying for their little excursion, they gleefully forked over 60,000 dong.
with lust in his eyes, venom approached again. i pointed at the bamboo staffs and sticks others had placed on the floor. "how much do you charge for sticks?" i screeched. the boys looked embarrassed for me. i started to feel embarrassed for me, and in the end we each handed him 20,000. he had fed his rip-off the foreigner hunger and lingered towards the front of the bus, hyucking it up with his friends for the remainder of the journey.
wriggling our way off the bus in hoi an, we decided to employ the "wait at a coffee stall on the side of the road until all the annoying motorbike drivers leave" method before finding lodging. ellen reviewed the local map, while i pointed and laughed at venom who was enjoying a sugar cane juice with some local ladies. i think i killed his game, or at least damaged it for awhile. determined to make up for the extra dong we had spent, we started our trek towards the backpacker area, only to give up three minutes into it because my shoulder still hurt from my daredevil incident, and hopped on the back of some hondas.
shockingly, most of the hotels, even those not listed in the "bible" were full. it was hot and we wanted to swim. another honda driver pointed us down alley towards a hotel that had feasible rooms and a baby that i liked. after a brief siesta, we interviewed the hotel staff about vegetarian restaurants that were not geared towards tourists. meandering and looping through several alleyways, we reached "quay chay," a little red plastic chair vegetarian haven located in a family's front yard. we managed to order a pho with tofu, which i doused with too much chili, but forced myself to eat it anyway. they were happy, we were happy, and another baby was semi-happy as its grandfather paraded it through the yard.
day two to follow...
Thursday, April 2, 2009
Ellen gets her Fix
We are well into our third month of travel and even though I love rice and the beach sometimes I just need to have a piece of home. Well, I was able to get a few of my needs satisfied in the past few days.
fix #1: Chocolate and 80's music
In Hoi An we had the best chocolate cake I have had since I can remember with espresso and wonderful 80's pop music playing to make the ambiance just right.
fix #2: Pottery
In Hoi An a few kilometers outside of town we found a family of woodfire potters. Just like me! We spent the afternoon with them helping out as I tried to get them to make me their 11 child. It made me happy to have my hands in clay and throw a few bowls, even if I am rusty.
fix #3: Fixed Gear Bikes
In Hue a cyclo drive was chasing after Gillian and I so he could give us a ride and make some money, we finally turned the chase around on him and made him let us ride the bike while he sat in the seat. The best part was that it was a fixed gear bike! Luckily we did not die.
Sometimes you just need a fix.
fix #1: Chocolate and 80's music
In Hoi An we had the best chocolate cake I have had since I can remember with espresso and wonderful 80's pop music playing to make the ambiance just right.
fix #2: Pottery
In Hoi An a few kilometers outside of town we found a family of woodfire potters. Just like me! We spent the afternoon with them helping out as I tried to get them to make me their 11 child. It made me happy to have my hands in clay and throw a few bowls, even if I am rusty.
fix #3: Fixed Gear Bikes
In Hue a cyclo drive was chasing after Gillian and I so he could give us a ride and make some money, we finally turned the chase around on him and made him let us ride the bike while he sat in the seat. The best part was that it was a fixed gear bike! Luckily we did not die.
Sometimes you just need a fix.
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