Destination: Home (via the other side of the world)

Gallery: Halong Bay & Sapa

jfernandes — Sun, 31 Aug 2008 18:14:00 GMT

Gallery: Hanoi, capital of Vietnam

jfernandes — Sun, 31 Aug 2008 17:56:00 GMT

Gallery: Feeling the history Hue, central Vietnam

jfernandes — Sun, 31 Aug 2008 17:27:00 GMT

Gallery: The picturesque town Hoi An

jfernandes — Sun, 31 Aug 2008 17:18:00 GMT

Excursions to Halong Bay & Sapa

jfernandes — Thu, 31 Jul 2008 15:58:00 GMT

I booked on to two separate trips from Hanoi- what were recommended by several people as the must-sees of Vietnam - one trip was a cruise along Halong Bay, the second trip was a trek in Sapa.

Halong Bay Cruise

Halong Bay is in northeastern Vietnam. One of the most famous sights in Vietnam, the bay contains some 2,000 limestone obelisks which rise spectacularly out of the ocean waters. Local legend says that long ago when the Vietnamese were fighting Chinese invaders, the gods sent a family of dragons to help defend the land. This family of dragons began spitting out jewels and jade. These jewels turned into the islands and islets dotting the bay, linking together to form a great wall against the invaders.

Most tourists visit Halong Bay on a two- or three-night cruise. I had heard quite a few nightmare stories of the poor quality of the junks which some tour operators used, and infestation problems on those junks. Well, I didn't like the idea of trapping myself on a boat with infestation problems before I knew what I was getting into. So I opted to sign myself on to one of the pricier cruise trips - a three-day trip to Halong Bay, including kayaking and an overnight stay in a resort on Cat Ba island.

We travelled by bus from Hanoi to the pier, where hundreds (or what seemed like hundreds) of tourists were milling around with their backpacks waiting to board their tour operators' boats. Shoving our way through, we hopped on to a transit boat, that took us to our junk.

The other people on the boat were either on the two-day or three-day cruise. About 15 people in total - a nice enough number to get to know most of the people.

As we departed from the pier, we were served a nice lunch and we got know each other. From there, we visited Sung Sot (Amazing) Cave, where our tour guide showed us all sorts of stalagmite and stalactite formations out of the rock. Honestly, I wasn't convinced by a lot of them - they are just rocks after all, regardless of how much one wants to see different shapes and animals in them. I guess I just have no imagination.

Back on the boat, we had an opportunity to chill. While I was lounging on the upper deck, I started speaking to a recently-engaged New Zealand couple - Kara and John. I got to know them better when we visited a small island with a pagoda at the top of the hill. I have not gotten along better with anyone so far on this trip as I did with those two. Conversation was absolutely effortless. It was a shame that they were only doing the two-day trip, as they were good company.

Back aboard ship, we were met with an exquisite lunch - I had not expected anything so extravagant. Lobsters, shellfish, langoustines, prawns, various salt-water fishes. All sorts of seafood were presented in front of us. Every one of us was well and truly stuffed by the end.

Kara, John, a Dutch guy who I was sharing a room with, and myself, played cards on the upper deck into the early morning, while the rest of the ship dozed off to sleep.

Next day the group parted ways. Half of the group went back to the pier - their tour was over. The rest of us changed boat, and went to another part of Halong Bay (away from the many other junks) to go kayaking. And ooufff, was it exhausting. Over 3 hours of kayaking, we couldn't take any more. Our bodies were aching. But it was great fun. And there's nothing like the aching feeling of a much-needed physical workout.

On to Cat Ba island, one of the largest islands in Halong Bay with a permanent population - although nowadays it has become yet another resort island. It has a beautiful beach, although I spent most of my time in my room, relaxing and washing my clothes.

Sapa Trek

An hours after arriving back in Hanoi from the Halong Bay Cruise, I was to leave for Sapa in northwest Vietnam by overnight train. Fortunately, there was some continuity between the two trips, as one of the families on the Halong Bay Trip was also doing the Sapa Trek.

The mother in the family, conscious of me being a solo traveller amongst a family, made a particular effort to welcome me and treat me as one of the family, which was lovely. They were well-off Californians - a mother and father in their 60's and two sons in the late 20's and early 30's respectively.

The Sapa Trek was to last for 2 nights/3 days. Certainly, an experience that I will never forget.

The trek started off in the morning by road, but by afternoon we were on rocky dirt trails and wading through rivers. The views were, actually, very similar to the Central Highlands. A lot of green, but with more rivers flowing through the valleys than were noticeable in the Highlands.

It was very early on though that my camera inexplicably stopped working. So I have no photos of the Sapa trek, apart from the first few which I managed to snap.

Our first night was spent in a very very basic home. I have done a few homestays so far on my travels, but never have any of them actually been or felt like an authentic family home. This was. No electricity, one light-bulb for the house, nursery-type chairs around one small table, thin mattreses, no privacy. This was a proper Vietnamese home.

The centre of attention in this particular home was the 10 year-old girl. Unlike her family, this girl was not shy at all to interact with us. She was eager to learn new English words, to read our English books, learn English songs, and play games. She was also quite the bully, taking any opportunity to hit (in a playful way) one of us guys. She was friendliest with David, the 28-year old son who was a primary school teacher in Korea.

The family quietly joined us for a simple dinner in the communal room around a small table. David managed to change the group dynamic by teaching us some of the Korean drinking games that he had learnt. By the end of the evening, we had gone through 20-odd bottles of beer and 4 bottles of rice wine.

The next day's trek was an effort after the night before. All the more so because the heavens had decided to open. It was pouring down, and many of the tracks which would have been dry before had turned into slippery rocky riverines.

I thought it would be a blessing having waterproof shoes. But I was so wrong. Because once water gets into water-proof shoes, it is damn hard to get out again!

Two incidents in particular are worth mentioning. The heavy rainfall had flooded many parts of Sapa, and the rivers had burst their banks. As a result, we had to take a few detours on to safer tracks. But at one point, our tour guide decided to keep going on our intended route (which was across a river). On an ordinary day, a flimsy bamboo bridge would have been enough to get us from one side to the other. But not today. The river had burst its banks and the bridge was now essentially in the middle of a very violent river.

Following a signal from our guide, Dave forged ahead. Jeff, the other son next. Then me. I treaded carefully, trying to search the river bed for a foothold against the strong currents. Being swept away would not have been good news. The bridge keeper was standing on the bridge, trying to reach for my arm to pull me across. I inched my way closer, close to losing balance on more than a few occasions, as the waters were slamming into my thighs. I must confess to being tempted at one point to shove the bridge keeper out of the way so that I could take the rock which he was comfortably standing on.

I made it across. Then the mother. Then the father. But only 5 minutes after the father had stepped off the bridge, the bridge washed away completely.

So close! If we had been on that bridge at the time, I am sure none of us would have survived. Well, another near-death experience under my belt.

The next near-death experience was on that same day, but not so much an experience as a fact which later came to our attention. On our way down to the village where we would be spending the night, we had to trek for 1.5 hours along a road which was winding in a snake-like way down the face of a mountain. An hour after we had reached the homestay, we learned that a landslide at the top of the mountain, had covered the road at several segments along the way down. No one was killed. But it was scary that it had not been long before we had been on that very same road. We should have been more conscious of the danger of landslides during the torrential rains - we had managed to avert some small landslides, which would have caused minor injury at most, but it never occurred to us that there might be a large landslide. I suppose even if we had thought about it, there was not much that we could do but keep moving ahead.

The second night was like the first - full of the same drinking games. I think my failure to drink enough water on this day made the effects of the rice wine more potent.

Our final day involved visiting an unimpressive waterfall, before treking back up to the main road (the landslide made it impossible for the minibus to collect us from the homestay).

Hanoi, the Capital of Vietnam - love it or hate it?

jfernandes — Wed, 30 Jul 2008 18:37:00 GMT

From Hue, on to Hanoi, which is very similar to Ho Chi Minh/Saigon in the south of Vietnam. That is not to say that there are no differences however. I would say that Hanoi has certainly made more of an effort not to erode the precious green spaces and lakes that are scattered around the districts. Compared to Saigon, Hanoi is a small city of broad, tree-lined boulevards, lakes, parks, weathered colonial buildings, and some of the nicest hotels in Southeast Asia.

The area in which I was staying was called the Old Quarter, just north of the Hoan Kiem Lake (I swear, it seems like every city in Vietnam needs to have some sort of 'Old Quarter'). Between my hotel and the lake are a maze of narrow streets packed with small shops selling their souvenirs and wares, as well as a number of tour operators seeking to cash in on the rising tourism.

I went to see some of the must-sees of the city, according to people that I have met and of course the guidebooks (where would I be without them...kidding).

First-off, I went for a walk around Hoan Kiem Lake, which is an oasis of tranquility amidst the horns of traffic rushing by. It's a fairly big lake, so it took me about 30-40mins to walk all the walk around. The lake is named after an incident that ocvcurred during the 15th century. The Arthurian-like legend goes as follows: Emperor Le Thai To, following a momentous vistory against an army of invading Ming Chinese, was sailing on the Lake when a golden turtle appeared from the depths to take back the charmed sword which had secured the victory and restore it to the Lake from whence it came.

I also went to the infamous water-puppet theatre. It was a 45-minute show which recounted some Vietnamese stories/legends - but I must say that after I while I was a bit bored. Maybe it would have been more interesting if I had known the stories beforehand, so that I could properly understand them. More enjoyable, I thought, was the traditional orchestra which played on an elevated platform in full view of the audience.

Then I went to the Temple of Literature. Now, I am fairly bored of temples now. I know that I shouldn't be, but in every town I have been to I make an effort to go to the temples. I try to understand the ideas underlying the architectural themes and sculptures, but now they all have begun to look the same. I am no longer surprised or curious, it is sad to say. But the Temple of Literature caught me on the back-foot. I was not prepared to like it as much as I did. The temple is dedicated to Confucius, and it became the intellectual and spiritual centre of the kingdom as a cult of literature and education spread through the region. I guess I enjoyed it so much because this temple, unlike so many I have been to so far, was not a Buddhist temple or a Khmer temple, it was something new and unique.

Having been bitten by the motorbike bug, I decided to step up the challenge. I rented a manual motorbike, and wanted to see whether I could manage to motorcycle around the city which is full of traffic (like Saigon, but maybe a bit less so).

So I zipped off in search of Hoa Lo Prison (more often than not I ended up going round in circles). Hoa Lo Prisoin, better known as the Hanoi Hilton, is the prison where American POWs were incarcerated, some for 6 years, after the Vietnamese War.

The other big attraction in Hanoi is Ho Chi Minh's Mausoleum. I can't remember if I explained who Ho Chi Minh was already, so just a recap: Ho Chi Minh is regarded as the father of modern-day Vietnam. He headed up the Viet Minh independence movement from 1941 onwards, establishing the communist-governed Democratic Republic of Vietnam in 1945. As a consequence of his influential role (Time magazine named him as one of the most influential people in the 20th century), his body was emblamed and put on eternal display for the world to queue up and see. Everyone files in pairs into the refrigerated room where the body is kept, no talking and no straying from the path. Besides the body, soldiers stand at attention.

Personally, I thought it looked like a wax-work model from Madame Tussauds. But who really knows.

The Ho Chi Minh Museum was so boring that it is hardly worth commenting on.

Gallery: The lush green Central Highlands of Vietnam

jfernandes — Sun, 20 Jul 2008 15:02:00 GMT

Central coast of Vietnam - Hoi An and Hue

jfernandes — Tue, 15 Jul 2008 17:21:00 GMT

The journey to Hoi An, central coast of Vietnam

The train journey from Nha Trang to Hoi An was, well, uncomfortable. No sleeper trains were operating that day (if they do at all), so I had a seat in a standard carriage departing at 7pm. The journey was about 12 hours.

That the journey would be uncomfortable was apparent from the moment I stepped into the carriage. I had expected at least cushioned seats. But oh no, instead there were wooden benches back-to-back on each side of the carriage. The benches were a bit like the type you would find in a garden, except they could only seat 2 people and they had a high back. I squeezed myself into my seat, and prepared myself mentally for the journey.

As the train got going, train staff were bussing carts down the gangways selling drinks, snacks and dinner on the train. As I had not brought any food with me, and I was very hungry, I reluctantly pushed myself to try the 'dinner'. With a few gesticulations, the staff scooped a porridge-like substance from a metal cylinder into a polystyrene container and handed it to me. I was so famished that I gulped down the bland, lumpy meal. I also tried a boiled egg, served with salt - which was surpirisingly nice.

As the evening progressed, half of the people (all of whom were locals) migrated from their seats to the dirty carriage floor to sleep. Some of those had had the foresight to bring a bamboo mat to lie on. 'Sardines in a tin can' does not quite bring to life how packed the carriage was - with arms and legs flailing across the floors and benches. But these tired sould had the rest disturbed everytime one of te staff attempted to come down teh gangway with their trolley of snacks.

And what about me? As you can imagine, most (in fact, nearly all) SE Asians are small and petite. They take up about 1/3 of the space of a Westerner (and I include myself in the Western bracket due to my size). I knew that sleeping would be difficult in these circumstances, so I tried to stay awake for as long as I can by reading my book - Catfish and Mandala - Newsweek, and the Economist. But eventually, I could hold out no longer.

I contorted myself into a number of positions throughout the night, in an effort to find a position where I could keep my back and head reasonably aligned, and rest my head on something. I sat up with my head against the wall, but the vibrations of the train made this quite uncomfortable. The most comfortable of the uncomfortable positions was lying with my back and head on the bench (just about - my head would occasionally slip off the end) and my legs vertically up the wall. In essence, it was an L-shape position. I wrapped my krama (the small bandana which I bought in Cambodia) around my head to shield my eyes from the light, whist the knot at the back cushioned my head slightly from the wooden bench.

Needless to say, it was a very restless night, with the constant concern that I would not know where to get off the train.

Having arrived at Danang train station, I caught a taxi directly to the neighbouring town of Hoi An. I checked myself into Phuoc An Hotel, which I picked straight out of the Lonely Planets Guide. I knew that this would probably be a bad financial decision, since the price of any place named in the LP Guide tends to rise immediately after the LP Guide is published, but I was in need of a good bed and some comfort after my journey (and still being annoyed that my easyrider tour did not go as I had planned).

Hoi An

I spent about 5 days in Hoi An in total. It is a beautiful, sedate and historic town set alongside the Thu Bon River. In the old quarter of Hoi An, the most visited part by tourists, the streets are lined with fine historic buildings. Many of these buildings house tailors and art galleries - I certainly made the most of both. With respect to the tailors, I had decided beforehand to buy 1 or 2 suits (depending on the quality of the fabrics). Suits out here are so much cheaper than London, it's great! They were ready in one day and after having them fitted, I was happy enough to go for 1 more, plus a few extras (i.e. shirts and trousers).

I also decided to do an evening cooking course. It was an impromptu decision as a course was about to start at the place where I had stopped in the afternoon for a coffee. The cooking course was great for the most part. We went to the market, discussed the various ingredients that would go into our foods, as well as the fruits and veg's. Then on to a boat, for a ride down the river to a Restaurant where our cooking class would commence.

My dishes were okay (alright, I messed up quite alot), and my vegetable decorating skills were awful (this I knew already from previous attempts to do so).

The best part of the course was the group - there was a newly-wed couple in the 40's from New Zealand (but the husband had Irish blood), and two Irish ladies in their late 30's. But the group as a whole was so much fun - undoubtedly the most I had laughed in a very long time - particularly the NZ husband. We spent the evening after the course and the next day in each other's company, before the others headed down to Nha Trang (where I had just come from).

4km east of Hoi An (a 20 minute bicycle ride) is the stunning Cua Dai Beach - probably the best I have been to so far. I spent a day here on a sun-lounger, my sketchbook in hand (although still wet from the easyrider tour).

My departure from Hoi An was delayed slightly by the fact that all transportation (buses, planes and trains) for the day I intended to depart and the day afterwards was sold out. I verified this at a number of travel agents. So, I had little choice but to relax in Hoi An for a bit longer. Fortunately, a vacancy opened up on one of the buses on the second day, so I was able to move on to Hue, which is further north up the coast.

Hue

Hue, like Hoi An, is a city with history. You feel the history just walking around - and in the case of Hue, it is more apparent because the town is divided by a river (called the 'Perfume River' - named after a scented shrub that is supposed to grow at its source). On the south side of the river, the city is like any other in Vietnam. It is in the north, that the contrast becomes apparent. Set just north of the river is an Imperial City that housed generations of the country's most powerful emperors.

On approaching the Imperial City from the south (as was decreed by Chinese custom), one is confronted with thick outer walls, 7 -10m thick, along with moats, canals and towers. Over the moat, a pair of gates pierce the outer walls. From just behind the gates a flag tower rises to the sky - supposedly the tallest in Vietnam. And just inside the walls are two groups of massive cannons (the significance of these I cannot remember).

The Imperial City has been damaged by war, incessant conflicts and floods. But those buildings that have survived have remained in fairly good shape, or at least, the UNESCO restoration project has appeared to have restored the buildings faithfully to the former glory

The most impressive of these buildings in my opinion was the Royal Reading Pavillion, one of the buildings that has been restored.

It was here in Hue that I finally decided to take the plunge for the first time...I was going to ride a motorbike. Well, not the normal motorbike that you tend to find in England. The motorbikes in common usage here are kind of a cross between a scooter and a motorbike. There are two options, either manual or automatic: a manual has an automatic clutch but the gears are changed manually, whereas an automatic has automatic clutch and gears. Since this was the first time that I was going to be attempting riding a motorbike, I decided to start with baby steps: the 'automatic' which requires no fiddling - just squeeze the accelerator and off you go.

It was actually astonishingly easy. The motorbike, much like a bicycle, tends to balance itself once you build up enough velocity.

So off I went, in search of the tombs of several emperors that lie between 4-10km from the city.

It was good fun zipping through the countryside in search of tombs - although some of the dirt tracks proved to be more challenging than I expected for a first-timer. I will also confess that I did have a particularly bad 'crash' at one point. Not sure if the proper label for it is a 'crash' if it only involved me toppling over. Anyway, I lost control when I was trying to come to a quick stop (the sense of urgency was created by a child on the roadside who guessed where I wanted to go and told me that I had gone passed the tomb). Anyway, into the dirt my bike and my face went (causing some minor scarring of my hand and a sprained wrist). Oh well, it was a lesson learnt. Now I know to apply the rear brake, not the front brake, when maneouvering at slow speeds.

Gallery: Mui Ne, Vietnam - the little fishing village turned beach town

jfernandes — Fri, 11 Jul 2008 16:54:00 GMT

Gallery: Nha Trang, Vietnam - the beach town

jfernandes — Thu, 10 Jul 2008 16:25:00 GMT

A terrible easyrider tour across the beautiful Central Highlands of Vietnam

jfernandes — Wed, 9 Jul 2008 22:10:00 GMT

From Saigon, I took a bus to Dalat, a former French hill station at an altitude of almost 1500m on a plateau in the Central Highlands. My time here was short since River, my easyrider tour guide, picked me up from the bus drop-off to take me to the hotel, from which I went to dinner, and then back to the hotel to sleep before starting the tour the following day. It's a shame I did not have more time to see Dalat, since it has a reputation for being quirky. It is, supposedly, Paris in the mountains, or the Vietnamese French Alps. Go to the right cafes and you may see Vietnamese wearing berets. A nearby radio tower looks like a miniaturised version of the Eiffel Tower.

Next morning, we hit the road on a 6 day tour up the Central Highlands then finishing across in Hoi An, on the coast of Vietnam. My 70-litre backpack was strapped to the back of the motorbike, with me sitting behind River. Our final destination for the day was Lak Lake. But we made a few stops along the way at coffee plantations, a silk farm and the Elephant Waterfalls. The journey was absolutely breathtaking. The mountainous landscapes were filled with every shade of lush - almost violent - green. Mountains angled in from every direction, their tops hidden by the misty clouds. The road which we followed weaved along the edges of these mountains, revealing the valleys of undisturbed forest below.

Of course, not all of the region is untouched. In fact, a great deal of the forest area has been cut down to use for cultivating all sorts of vegetables and fruits, which we would ordinarily associate with Europe. The region around Dalat is also famous for its wine, which is much milder than other wines, and so easily drinkable.

Half-way through the trip we met up with an Australian couple - one a botanist, the other a professor of microbiology - also doing an easyrider tour, except to Nha Trang (where I had previously been).

Lak Lake was a serene village inhabitated by the M'nong minority tribe.Early morning musts hang above the calm waters and mingle with the columns of woodsmoke rising from the longhouses. River and I were sharing a "homestay", which was not in my view a homestay since no one else lived there. But still, I cannot deny that the slow pace of life in this village, on the lake, and on the rice paddies, was refreshing in a way.

I was not in a good mood at the end of the evening however. After a lovely dinner, and in mid-conversation with the Australian couple, River suggested that he take me back to the hut to sleep. I did not particularly want to go to sleep, but said that I would go if he wanted to - as it was too dark to walk, I needed to travel on his motorbike to get back to the hut. After leaving me at the hut, he went back to the restaurant saying that he would be back soon. Soon was not in fact very soon. So I was annoyed that I had been stranded in the hut, my evening cut short when I still had energy.

I woke up at 6.30am, unsure about what time we were leaving this morning. I knew that the couple were leaving at 7.30am, but River never communicated to me our plans for the day. He was asleep at 6.30am, so I decided to stay in bed and wait for him to wake up. I dozed off and woke up at 7.30am. Still he was asleep. Eventually, at 8.30am I got restless and got ready very slowly - using the very basic facilities located elsewhere.

At 9.30am River woke up. It turns out that he had been out until about 2am drinking and playing cards! I couldn't believe that I had been excluded from this - surely he could have at least invited me!

Well, we hit the road nonetheless towards Boun Ma Thout, which is a thriving city and the provicial capital of Daklak Province. I decided to keep my concerns about his behaviour to myself for the time being, as we had to spend the next 5 days together 24hrs/day.

We checked into a lovely 2* hotel which, compared to the previous night's homestay, was luxury. The three of us went to the market to buy some fruit, and then went to a small restaurant to eat fresh spring rolls (something I had had before, but the couple were new to). From there we did a roundtrip to the Dray Sap Waterfalls (20km from Boun Ma Thout) which are several different cascades all next to each other. In one waterfall, we went for a swim in the lake at the bottom, before climbing to the waterfall and having a 'waterfall massage' under the cascading water. I could only bear 15 seconds of the 'massage' before escaping - it was just too strong/powerful to stay any longer. Another waterfall was an impressive 100m-wide torrent which created a spray that justified its name as the 'waterfall of smoke'.

Back at town, we went for dinner which was barbequed goat - it wasn't bad but it wasn't great either.

Post-dinner entertainment was a game of pool - locals (i.e. the 3 tour guides) versus foreigners (i.e. us 3 customers). We lost 2-1. Unsurprising really, considering the amount of free-time these guys have to play pool.

The next morning I went down for breakfast and was surprised to hear River giving lots of excuses whilst strongly suggesting that we go directly to Nha Trang, instead of the original 6-day tour to Hoi An. Words cannot express how pissed off I was. I slammed my hand at the table at his behaviour, but relented simply because I did not want to spend the next 4 days with a tour guide that did not want to guide me on a tour. Our ride to Nha Trang was very direct, without any stops except to show my a rubber tree forest which I had seen plenty of before. Moreover, we were caught in a storm with a torrential downpour. Some water managed to reach my backpack through a small hole in the plastic, and soaked my journal and (EVEN WORSE) my sketchbook. And, to make it even worse, my bottle of after-sun had opened in my bag! River just dropped me off at Nha Trang Train Station and booked me on an overnight train to Hoi An. I gave a short goodbye, took my bag, and walked off in search of a coffee shop to kill time until my train arrived and to vent my anger at being in the same city I was in a week previously.

Gallery: Ho Chi Minh City/Saigon, Vietnam

jfernandes — Sat, 5 Jul 2008 14:18:00 GMT

Feeling lonely in Southern Vietnam

jfernandes — Wed, 2 Jul 2008 12:00:00 GMT

My previous two attempts to update my journal have been scuppered by power outages. As a result I am nearly a month behind!!! Ahhhhh...

So here's a summary of my time in Southern Vietnam...

I made it across the border on the second attempt, this time travelling to Saigon (also now known as Ho Chi Minh City). Coming from Cambodia, Saigon in the evening rush hour was a real shock to the system. Sensory overload in every respect. The streets and alleyways were lined with hotels, restaurants, bars, cafes, knick-knack shops and clothing shops of all kinds - from boutique expensive genuine luxury shops at one end of the spectrum to small cheap imitation luxury at the other. Each shop, big and small, vie for presence with their dazzling neon shop signs. The Saigonese certainly know how to live a good life - the priority is to spend, not save.

More overwhelming maybe was the motorcycle traffic. Motorcycle is, here, the predominant form of transportation. The writer, Andrew X Pham, of the book I am currently reading, Catfish and Mandala, puts my first experience of Saigon traffic better than I possibly could (so please excuse the extended quote):

"Around sunset, Viet decides it would be funny to give me a tour of the city at rush hour, when the streets are legally open for trucks and every sort of traffic...Viet laughs when I ask him for a helmet. "People can't even afford eyeglasses. Prescription glasses! And you're talking about a helmet? A helmet costs sixty American dollars -- that's twice as much as a teacher makes a month. Nobody wears them anyway. It's too hot here, and people think you're scared if you wear a helmet."

"With that, he guns the Kawasaki down the alley, narrowly missing the kids playing soccer with a tennis ball. The roads are so people-thick I can reach out and touch four other motorists at any moment. Viet works the horn, the brakes, and the gas constantly. The whole time, all I can say is, Oh, shit. Oh, God. Look out! to which his reply is a published fact: head injuries resulting from traffic accidents are the number-one cause of accidental deaths in Saigon. I see no helmets and extremely few eyeglasses.

"Nobody gives way to anybody. Everyone just angles, points, dives directly toward his desitnation, pretending it is an all-or-nothing gamble. People glare at one another and fight for maneuvering space. All parties are equally determined to get the right-of-way -- insist on it. They swerve away at the last possible moment, giving scant inches to spare. The victor goes forward, no time for a victory grin, already engaging in another contest of will. Saigon traffic is Vietnamese life, a continuoous charade of posturing, bluffing, fast moves, tenacity, and surrenders...

"I don't trust him and prepare to abandon ship at the first sign of an imminent hit. Twice motorbikes graze my legs. Within fifteen minutes, we see three accidents, one of which is serious, involving a cyclo and a motorcycle.

"The air becomes toxic, unbreathable as all of Saigon struggles to get home from schools, market, and work, and all the commerce from the rest of the country pours into the crazed streets...

"The intersections are the worst, particularly for those who need to make a left. Traffic lights are rare. Where there is one, there is never a turn signal. When Viet wants to make a turn, he simply does it, plunges in ahead of the coming traffic, hoping that his timing is right so they don't run us over. He goes into it, blasting his horn, dodging moving obstacles as aggressively as everyone else.

"At the free-for-all junctions, Viet waits until enough traffic going in our direction accumulates -- this never takes more than ten or fifteen seconds -- and moves forward with the flow when our team inches into the intersection. With such a large contingent, the cross traffic screeches to a halt to prevent collision. But close calls and accidents -- if one can call them that -- are common, so Viet instinctively worms into the center of the pack to minimize our chances of being hammered on either flank. Do it the Vietnamese way, he hollers at me. Let others take the risk. Travel on their lee and let them take the hits. It is more difficult than it sounds because everyone else uses the same principles. No one wants to get hit, but there's always a hothead who happily leads the effort."

Overwhelmed with sensory overload, I decide to spend my first evening in Saigon exploring the city and getting my orientation. I wander over to the east side of the city, which lives up to its reputation of being more affluent. I spend my evening at the rooftop bar of the Rex Hotel reading my book with a glass of wine and in the background - cheesy Vietnamese-accented 80's pop music being sung by a band.

My next day is spent visiting the key museums and sights in Saigon: Ho Chi Minh Museum, History Museum, Lam Son Square, Notre Dame Cathedral, Post Office (out of architectural interest). I was quite surprised in the evening to find a message on my wall on Facebook from Sarah and Nic saying that they came to Saigon early. So I make plans to meet them (and the two guys who we travelled with on a boat) the following evening.

The next day, I try to extend the 15-day visa that I was given at my guesthouse in Cambodia, only to find out that the visa cannot be extended and that I will have to apply for ANOTHER NEW VISA at a cost of $44 USD. I verify that this is true at a number of places. I cannot believe it. I have to apply for a THIRD visa at the same cost of $44. Moreover, it will take a week before the visa will be ready for collection at the Saigon office (which is longer than I had planned to stay in Saigon).

That evening, I meet Sarah, Nic, Kieran and Thomas, for dinner. They are all staying at a hotel near to me. We go out for dinner and have a catch-up about our days apart. We arrange to go to the Cu Chi tunnels on a day trip together the following morning.

The Cu Chi tunnels were created by the Viet Minh in 1948 during their struggle against French colonialism, and later expanded by the Viet Cong during the Second Indonchina War (known as the Vietnam War in the west, and the American War here). The complexity of the tunnels is truly unbelievable. 200km of tunnels were built by the Viet Cong which were used as sleeping quarters, kitchens, hospitals, schools, storage and refuge. The tunnels were multi-tiered, and cleverly designed to encourage movement of air whilst remaining hidden. We had a go crawling through some of the original tunnels, which was quite a claustrophobic experience. I cannot imagine being down there for extended periods of time. The original tunnels were only only 80cm high and the width of the tunnel entry at ground level was about 25cm. The tunnels were too narrow for some to fit in, but with a squeeze most of the group managed.

I also had a go on the shooting range - 10 rounds on an AK47, and 10 rounds on M16 - at an expensive $1.25 per bullet. Just the sound of the shooting range was an intimidating experience. Our ears were ringing with each shot fired. They say that the lingering buzzing sound in your ears is the swansong of certain cells in your ear dying and, as a result, that frequency of sound is lost from your hearing.

The evening was spent introducing Sarah and Nic to Japanese cuisine - namely, sushi, sashimi, sake, etc. An enjoyable meal, which was followed by a drink at the rooftop of the Sheraton Hotel, which has 360 degree views of Saigon.

I decided to spend the following days, while waiting for my passport/visa, in Nha Trang (9hr bus ride north up the coast of Vietnam) for a few days, then moving back southwards along the coast to Mui Ne, then finally back in Saigon to collect my visa.

Nha Trang is quite different from the rest of Vietnam. It is apparent that the whole town has been built to cater for the tourist industry. There is a beautiful long, golden, palm and casuarina-fringed beach. At the time of my arrival, the town was hyped up about the Miss Universe Competition 2008, which was being held here. In fact, I (and the rest of the town) even got an opportunity to see the beauties doing their cheesy waves wearing short-shorts and ridiculously tight tops during a parade down the main coastal road.

Aside from that momentary excitement, I spent about 4 days here doing, well, not much really. I think I was just in the mood to do nothing for a while - travelling really takes it out of you, and sometimes I think these breaks are necessary to absorb what has happened since the last opportunity to reflect.

As I recall, I was also feeling quite lonely by this stage and had my first bout of being home-sick. I had been unable to meet any other solo travellers, and it appeared to me that the majority, if not all, of the other tourists in Nha Trang were families or couples. My feeling of home-sickness started during the trip to the Cu Chi tunnels when I was in a bus with a large group. In front of me were Nic and Sarah, who knew each other from home. On another pair of seats were Kieran and Thomas, who also knew each other from their home. And I was just sitting by myself - a 5th wheel - with no one to talk to except another stranger to my right with whom I could start another superficial conversation (just like many of the conversations that are repeated over and over again during solo travels). I was missing familiarity. I was missing having people surrounding me who knew me, and who I knew.

Anyway, I moved on to Mui Ne, a small fishing village which is quickly turning into a beach town. The layout of the town is strange, in that it is the town is stretched along a single long road, lined with expensive resorts, that follows the coastline. Soon after arriving and finding a cheap hotel, I went for a walk down the beach. On my return trip, I was invited to a play in a game of 3-aside football with the locals. Boy, was it tiring. I haven't played football in about 5 years...I needn't say more.

After talking to one of the locals for a while, whose nickname was River, it turned out that he was an easyrider - an informal label that is used by motorbike tour operators. As I was thinking about doing a tour in the central highlands, I made an arrangement with River to meet me at Dalat (a town in the Central Highlands) after I had collected my visa in Saigon.

I woke up early on the second day in Mui Ne to do a day trip (which started at 5.00am). I went with two others (an untalkative middle-aged couple) to the sand dunes to catch sunrise. Unfortunately, sunrise had just passed by the time we got there, by the sun was still very low in the sky to make the early-start worthwhile. I went sandsurfing a few times - which is sliding down the sand dunes on a plastic board. I was exhausted by the end - it's easy going down, it's coming back up that's the hard part.

Then we went to see the local fishing village (literally a stop on the side of the road), some more sand dunes (just a different colour), and then finally the Fairy Spring. I loved walking through the Fair Spring. We had 3 children as aour guides, who just appeared from nowhere, and took us for a 1hr walk through the spring. The sand formations were striking. I even walked into quick-sand (and managed to extract myself with some help). After the trip, I took a bus to Saigon.

Back in Saigon again, I collected my passport with the new visa. I spent one more day in Saigon visiting the War Remnants Museum and a few other places that I had previously missed out, before leaving for Dalat in the Central Highlands for my easyrider tour.

Gallery: Killing Fields in Phnom Penh

jfernandes — Tue, 1 Jul 2008 14:12:00 GMT

Rejected at the Vietnamese border!

jfernandes — Tue, 24 Jun 2008 01:25:00 GMT

So, as I am lagging behind on my journal entries, I will zip through what happened after I left North-Eastern Cambodia.

20th June 2008

I left Ban Lung, North-Eastern Cambodia, in the early morning heading back to the capital, Phnom Penh, directly by mini-bus (an 11 hour journey). I was squeezed in the backrow of the mini-bus with 3 other westerners...2 British girls, Sarah and Nic, and a German-American guy (forgotten his name now, so let's call him Nick).

The journey was not uneventful, as we managed to breakdown within the first few hours. The suspension gave out on a pot-holed road that took up 4 hours of our journey.

We blamed Sarah (who was travelling with Nic for 3 weeks around SE Asia) for our bad fortune as, within the short amount of time that she has been travelling, she has had some incredible bad luck with transportation - every one of her vehicles has broken down or crashed in some way, from her bus, to her motorbike, to her bicycle (as well as burning her leg badly on the exhaust of a motorbike).

En route, we took a short break at a rest stop, where I tried eating a fried/BBQ'd spider - interesting texture...crunchy...but not too bad. I opted not to have the cockroach today, I'll leave that for another day...I think one insect is my max for each day.

Well, the four of us made friends on the way to Phnom Penh. So when we arrived at Phnom Penh (after the minibus stranded us in the middle of the road, and the tuk-tuk then broke down when taking us to a hotel...Sarah!), we went out for dinner. I knew the town better than the other three as I had been here before, I took them to the main touristy strip of restaurants. For dinner we decided to experiment with a 'Happy' Pizza. A 'happy' pizza is one that is baked with marijuana for an added kick. There are a few restaurants that serve this up, and in fact their restaurants are some variation of 'Happy Pizza'. As I mentioned before, Phnom Penh is pretty much a lawless city, so the police turn a blind eye to this, even though the drugs are blatant.

Now, those of you that know me know that I am not experimental in the slightest when it comes to drugs. (Hell, my first full cigarette was only a week ago, and that was influenced by a monk!) But, I decided that, if I am to properly appreciate this round-the-world trip, I need to be open to new possibilities. So I threw myself into the deep-end with a "Very Happy" pizza. Well, to be honest, I could barely taste it. I only ate half of a very small pizza because I was not very hungry. But the marijuana kicked in after a couple of hours when we were playing pool at a nearby bar. And, well, I was just very giggly for the entire night, and then very sleepy later.

21st June 2008

I decided that I would spend today in Phnom Penh, and then leave with the girls the following day to Vietnam via the Mekong Delta. So today I finished off seeing the sights that I had not seen previously: the 'Killing Fields' and the Russian Market.\

The Killing Fields is where the prisoners of Tuol Sleng (S-21) (see previous post about this place) were executed. Obviously, it has a great deal of historical significance. But as an exhibition or remembrance, it is in my opinion quite unremarkable. It is quite simply a glass tower which is filled with excavated skulls and clothes of the victims. The graves simply look like shallow ditches, with nothing noticeable within them. The only other thing that struck me was a tree against which babies were smacked in order to kill them, and appeared to have a slightly red stain in one part.

After that, I went to the Russian Market which, after the Central Market, is the most popular market. It focuses more on fabrics and souvenir-type ornaments. After much searching, I decided to follow the lead of EW in Siem Reap and buy an opium pipe carved out of bone...obviously not for practical use, but rather as a decorative piece.

I met up with the others for dinner. As Nick had already eaten, I took the girls to a non-profit restaurant that is intended to teach street kids catering skills. The food was absolutely delicious, if a bit pricey.

22nd June 2008

Early morning start again. Woke up at 5.30am to catch a boat into Vietnam via the Mekong Delta (a 6 hour journey). Not many people were on the boat, just me, Sarah, Nic, and two Canadians called Thomas and Kieran.

Long story short: the official at the border rejected me because I small red stamp on my visa had half-faded. So I was forced to go all the way back to Phnom Penh on the same boat (another 6 hour journey) to sort out a new visa. Words cannot describe how dejected I felt. My head was just bowed for most of the return journey (but this time the boat was packed with people, so there was no space to spread out). It almost felt like failing an exam...I was left thinking: Where did I go wrong??

So, after an arduous journey, I arrived back in Phnom Penh. I shared a room with a guy with whom I did the return journey. Again, I took out a group of three people for dinner and, surprise, they wanted to go for a Happy Pizza. I had told myself that the previous Happy Pizza was the first and last one, just to get it out of my system. But then, I had not counted on being back in Phnom Penh at the time that I thought that. So, yet again, I had a 'Happy Pizza'. But this time, there were no giggles, just sleepiness. So I went to bed.

23rd June 2008

Arranged with my guesthouse for a new Vietnamese visa within 24 hours (price: $44). In order to get the visa within 24 hours, the visa will have to be a 15-day visa only, but I am told by the guesthouse that it can be extended. I also arranged transportation directly to Saigon, Vietnam, by bus for the following day.

24th June 2008

I arrived in Saigon...hoorah! A fairly uneventful 6 hour journey. On arrival I find that many of the guesthouses are more expensive than the guidebook indicated, so I eventually settle myself into $10 room.

Venturing into North-Eastern Cambodia...dolphins, waterfalls & crater lakes

jfernandes — Thu, 19 Jun 2008 16:19:00 GMT

15th June 2008

Leaving Phnom Penh, I headed first by bus to Kratie (pronounced kra-chey). I dropped my bags in a hotel and arranged for a moto-driver to take me to visit the Irrawaddy dolphins which live in parts of the Mekong River near to Kratie. A boat took me out for a 1.5hr boat ride in search of the dolphins. We came to a stop near two other boats, who were also waiting for sightings. In one of the boats was an elderly Frenchman in Cambodia on holiday, with whom I had travelled in the bus to Kratie and shared breakfast; and two other British girls.

Every so often I would see a few blunt, rounded heads popping out of the water...sometimes near, sometimes far. I wish we could have been closer though. I tried to take a photo, but none came out too well. The Irrawaddy dolphins are listed as 'critically endangered' by the IUCN, which explains why they are difficult to spot.

Returning to town, I had dinner with the Frenchman, who turned out to be a quietly-spoken retired economist that had, through his former occupation, travelled to most parts of the world.

Kratie was more enjoyable than I expected. A very quiet town with a relaxed ambience, sitting on the edge of the Mekong river. I would have like to have spent an extra day here, but I was also eager to move on to northeastern Cambodia.

16th June 2008

I woke up early to take a shared-taxi to Ban Lung, Ratanakiri province, northeastern Cambodia. Ratanakiri province has a reputation of being relatively untouched by tourism, and also undeveloped...which made it a more attractive place to visit for me.

I was told to be ready for my taxi at reception at 7.30am. But, of course, the taxi did not arrive until 9.15am. Even then, we did not leave...the driver was still waiting for other passengers to fill the car. So we returned to the nearby taxi area and waited for two more hours for more passengers wanting to go to Ban Lung. Finally, at 11.30am, we had enough.

In fact, we had more than "enough". In total, it was 8 adults (including the driver) and 4 children squeezed into a normal car for a 6.5hr journey. Two people (including the driver) in the driver's seat; two people and two children in the front passenger seat; and four people (including me) and two children in the backseats. As if this was not bad enough, I was squeezed against an uncomfortably tactile fellow who obviously had not had a shower for about 4 days, and his clothes were filthy.

For most of the 6.5hr journey his hand was around my shoulder. But for his uncleanliness, I did not mind this...I have often seen South-East Asian men being very 'familiar' with each other in public, by western standards (e.g. walking or cycling whilst holding hands with each other). So I gave him the benefit of the doubt, and, so long as that was the extent of his touchy-feely hands, I did not mind. But every so often on the 6.5hr journey his hand would slip from my shoulder to the back of my neck, slightly down the top of my t-shirt or (on two occasions) going slightly up the bottom of my t-shirt. Every time this happened, I would try to shuffle forward as much as I could (which wasn't much due to the lack of space) so that I was perching on the seat and so that he would leave me alone. I did this also having in mind the possibility that I was overreacting and that he was simply inadvertently touching me whilst trying to stretch out. If he persisted, I would have been very tempted to punch him and through him out of the car...well, so I thought; but I'm not partial to violence, so I doubt I would have ever actually done it.

Anyway, after spending 6.5hrs on dusty clay-red, pot-holed, roads, I arrived in Ban Lung. I had lunch first, then went in search of a guesthouse listed in my guidebook (which it turns out no longer exists). In search of my second-choice accommodation, I was met with a cross-roads. Not knowing which way to turn, I jumped on to the back of a moto-driver, who took me 5 minutes in the wrong direction before admitting that he did not know where he was going, and then running out of petrol. Fortunately for me, a passing motorist stopped and asked whether I wanted to stay at their guesthouse, Tribal Lodge. I negotiated down the price of a room with TV, hot shower and fan to $4 and then hopped on to their motorbike.

17th June 2008

I did pretty much nothing today. It was raining on-and-off for most of the day, so I just stayed in the guesthouse.

18th June 2008

I used my hired bicycle to visit three nearby waterfalls, all west of the town. I had been to two waterfalls, before I ran out of small change to pay for the admission fee. Since I was in the middle of nowhere, I had to cycle 10km all the way back to town to break a $50 note. Then I headed back to see the final waterfall.

To be honest, the waterfalls were not as breathtaking as I had expected. But the fun was more in the getting there, than the place itself. I loved cycling through a secluded forest of rubber trees to the third waterfall, passing only the occasional rubber tree worker, then finally reaching a cool waterfall which I climbed behind and into to refresh myself.

19th June 2008

This time I took my bicycle to the east of Ban Lung, to a nearby volcano crater lake. The water was an unbelievable clean turqoise colour and there were very few people around. So I found an empty dock in a deserted part of the lake, stripped off to my underwear and jumped in. It was nice and refreshing to wash the sweat and clay-red dirt off my body after a long cycle ride. I dried out in the sun, and then I spent about an hour
walking around the lake. It was not much of a walk because the foliage was overgrown and, unfortunately, I sprained my ankle on a rock that was hidden by leaves. Luckily it was not too bad and it did not begin to hurt until I had cycled back to my guesthouse. I spent the next day limping around before the pain went away.

Gallery: Ratanakiri province, north-eastern Cambodia

jfernandes — Thu, 19 Jun 2008 00:01:00 GMT

Gallery: Phnom Penh - S21 Museum

jfernandes — Mon, 16 Jun 2008 22:30:00 GMT

The Lawless city of Phnom Penh, capital of Cambodia

jfernandes — Sat, 14 Jun 2008 23:29:00 GMT

12th June 2008

I arrived in the capital of Cambodia, Phnom Penh, at about 6pm after a 6-hour bus journey from Siem Reap. I dropped my bags off at a guesthouse, and went out to explore the town immediately. I walked along the main road, which took past Independence Monument in the middle of a roundabout (unremarkable), then up past the Royal Palace to the main tourist strip along the river called Sisowath Quay.

I walked up and down Sisowath Quay (which isn't very long) a few times, before I found a restaurant to eat some dinner. But by this point I was fed up with the city already. Within 3 hours of arriving, I had been pestered by tuk-tuk drivers to take a ride in the tuk-tuk (which is common everywhere); but also to buy marijuana, cocaine, heroin, etc; and repeated offers to visit prostitutes/brothels for some "boom-boom" (I find it hilarious how "boom-boom" actually passes for a noun all over South-East Asia); constant pestering by child-hawkers trying to sell books. This all takes place in front of the police, who simply pay no attention. All of this within 3 hours, AND while stepping over rubbish which carpets the back streets, stopping one child from trying to pickpocket my bag, and averting a group of guys trying to rob me by pulling out my large pocket knife.

13th June 2008

After a sleep-in, I went to find where Stephen was staying. We went for breakfast together, and then I hired out a bicycle for the day.

I met Stephen later at the Tuol Sleng Genocide Museum. The site is a former high school which was used as the notorious Security Prison 21 (S-21) by the Khmer Rouge regime from its rise to power in 1975 to its fall in 1979. The museum was simple in its layout, starting with the cells as they looked when in use - just the metal frame of the bed to which prisoners were chained at their hands and feet; the floor under the bedframe permanently stained with the blood of the various occupants. In each room was a photograph exhibiting the condition of the prisoners in the room - these photographs are themselves evidence of how cold-hearted and brutally meticulous the Khmer Rouge Regime had been.

I am not one to be affected emotionally by these types of museums normally; it is a simple case of struggling to relate to the plight of the victims and the period in which these tragedies (e.g. WWII) occurred. But the Khmer Rouge is so recent that one does not have to stretch the imagination far. The simple layout of the museum was very effective. I felt sick to the stomach just after visiting a few rooms; nauseous to the point of contemplating vomiting either in the room or outside - but holding it in just to avoid embarrassment.

Then I found myself nearly in tears whilst I slowly walked through rooms filled with photographic headshots of the prisoners of S-21, all of whom would have been executed. I was struck most by the photos of the children and babies, to whom no mercy would have been shown despite the innocence in their eyes. I looked at each photo, one-by-one, just because I felt like each of these people, particularly the children, deserved to be remembered by someone having suffered a pointless death. I still have a clear image of one of the children, in particular, in my mind.

One of the rooms contained the weapons that were used for executions. The Khmer Rouge, in an attempt to save ammunition, often would use a spade to snap the spine at the back of the neck; or drown the prisoners; or simply torture them to death with all manner of instruments. Babies were often killed by grabbing them at the feet and smacking them against a tree. The soldiers that committed these atrocities were not always adults, but sometimes child-soldiers who had their conscience eroded from an early age. How could anyone believe that this was for the greater good? True, many people were oblivious to what was actually happening (or at least, oblivious about the scale of the atrocities being committed), but how were those higher up in the political party able to rationalise these acts with political philosophies?

The evening was spent with Stephen in FCC (another branch of the same bar I went to in Siem Reap), before heading back.

14th June 2008

Stephen headed into Vietnam today, so I was back by myself again. I cycled to the bus station to buy a ticket for the next day, and then to the Central Market to see the art deco architecture (built 1937) and visit the stalls, which were selling mainly silver and gold jewellery.

I felt quick weak in the morning, which I put down to hunger, lack of sleep, and/or the malaria pills. So I then cycled to the east side of town to get a good old english-breakfast from an english pub (I had had a craving for an English breakfast for some time). But I still didn't feel quite right.

I cycled slowly to a nearby art gallery, to have a look at what Cambodian artists had to offer. But I could not keep concentration. I felt like I was going to collapse unconscious at any stage, and I repeatedly had to sit down to rest and breath and drink some water.

I realised that something was wrong with my health and grow increasingly concerned as I felt my strength depleting and as a faintness started to take over me. My main worries were (1) if something happens to me, it will probably be a day before anyone finds me, and (2) if I need medical treatment, then I would need an emergency evacuation to Bangkok, Thailand, because the hospitals in Cambodia are not up to a decent standard (according to both of my guidebooks).

I very slowly cycled back to my guesthouse. Before going to my room, I attempted to ask the person at reception to check up on me in a couple of hours to see if I was okay, but unfortunately the person at reception did not speak enough English to understand. So I slowly went to my room (it took me about 5 minutes just to make it up the 5 flights of stairs). I had a rehydration treatment (which is always my first port of call when I feel unwell) and tried to go to sleep (which I did with difficulty, as I felt so weak I was not sure whether I would wake up...I was astonished by this point that I had managed to keep going for as long as I did without collapsing).

Fortunately, I did wake up after a few hours, but still incredibly weak. It took me 1.5 hours, though, before I mustered up enough strength to lift myself out of bed. And I found I had two new symptom, fever and headache. My first-aid thermometer indicated a temperature of 39.1C (which according to the enclosed instructions, meant that I should have sought medical treatment immediately). I started to worry again, and took a couple of ibuprofen tablets to deal with the fever and headache, and another rehydration treatment sachet.

I headed down to an internet cafe a bit later to speak to Rebecca. I decided to walk, as I was took weak to cycle. But by the time I settled into the internet cafe, I was starting to feel stronger. After a few hours there I felt considerably better...sitting directly under the air-conditioner cooled me down, and just hearing Reb's reassuring voice helped alot.

I decided to postpone any self-assessment about the state of my health until the next morning. I did not want to over-react by unnecessarily seeking medical treatment and, as a result of that, wasting time.

The next day I felt alot stronger, and decided to stick to my initial plans of travelling to Kratie. I put the previous days events down to dehydration - it is possible that I failed to take in enough water while I was cycling around the city, which was exacerbated by the glasses of wine I had had in FCC. A lesson learned!

Gallery: Temples of Angkor (Eighth Wonder of the World)

jfernandes — Thu, 12 Jun 2008 21:29:00 GMT