Monday 30 May 2011

Great Firewalling it up

It feels like the whole of the trip so far has been building up to China. There's hardly been any place we've visited (even Peru!) that hasn't had a Chinese influence, and the closer to China we've been drawing, the more significant that influence has been. And lately, what with China leapfrogging to second world economic power, people have been talking more about the Chinese globally buying up everything.

Paul often comments that you can tell the change in a country as soon as you cross a border. China is definitely no exception. We'd been preparing ourselves for a whole lot of difficulty and culture shock after Vietnam, but actually it was quite the opposite. We pulled into the border city of Nanning – everything was developed, organised, and the people ignored us in the streets. People we did come into contact with were smiley and polite (aside from the excessive hacking and spitting). In short it was a surprise. We'd been expecting the language barrier to be a trial, but in fact it was a sanctuary. If they can't communicate with you, they can't sell you something. They can't use your language as a weapon against you. And when you do try to speak Mandarin, they're so happy and give you special attention. We discovered this when we went out to dinner with a couple from Sheffield who had been in China 6 weeks and were about to cross into Vietnam. We found a plastic restaurant with a menu all in Chinese (reading it was a bit like a linguistics puzzle exercise) and they impressed us with their Chinese food-ordering skills. The restaurant owner was over the moon that these guys were speaking Mandarin, and was eternally helpful and patient with us. After the hostile reception we were constantly receiving in Vietnam, this was lovely. I suppose the phrasebooks and the relative scantness of Western people have made us feel like old-style travellers again. You know, when people used to take language courses before going on holiday and arming themselves with phrasebooks rather than relying on everyone being able to speak English.

The next day we took the train east to Guilin, and from there the bus to Yangshuo. One thing we love about China (apart from the polite and friendly people) is that there is hot water available everywhere (even trains). And this is great as a lot of portable Chinese food is of the just-add-water nature. So on the train we, like everyone else, produced pot noodles and took full advantage of the facilities. Things suddenly felt a lot cheaper.

Yangshuo/Guilin is said to be one of the most beautiful parts of China, nay, the world. It is filled with green-covered karst mountains (like Halong Bay, but not in the sea) and little villages and gorgeous rivers. Well, so we were told. It was a little difficult to tell as it was absolutely bucketing it down. We had a wet hour looking for our hostel (with the heavy bags not getting any drier) and were too burdened to notice the scenery. But once we were settled (with an amazing view from our window, I might add) we could tell even through the rain that it was a sight to behold. In the region Guilin is the 'brand', the famous place – but Yangshuo is thought to be the prettiest. It's nestled right in the heart of the mountains, which are floodlit at night. And yes, it's uber touristy. This hasn't been as headachy as you'd think, though. For a start that means things are set up to handle the likes of us, and there's probably more English spoken here than anywhere else in China (so yes, back to avoiding touts). The tourists are mostly Chinese – which is a fun thing to watch in itself. Really fascinating, actually. They all sneak photos of us like we're the curiosity (which was funny to start with, but is now starting to feel a bit invasive). We're enjoying watching how Chinese tourism works, and it's refreshing to feel such self confidence in a country. In SE Asia we were always being pleaded with and begged to feed their tourism economy - but China doesn't really need it. They're doing well enough, whether we're here or not, thank you very much!

It rained pretty solidly for the first few days and we went of a couple of soggy cycle rides. The hills looked enigmatic and mysterious looming in the fog, as we teetered on the wet and narrow paths between the rice paddies. It wasn't the sort of thing that could ever be captured in a photograph, so I enjoyed it with my eyes. Chinese girls and boys with flowers in their hair would sail past us on their tandem bikes whilst busloads of others visited the big attractions. We were feeling pretty saddle-sore after just one day on the bikes (several more to come!). I suddenly had quite a lot of admiration for Jill and Bryn (of Vernon) for their cycle tours round France, and up-coming Lands End to John o'Groats. Good luck!

Eventually our patience with the weather paid off and the few extra days we'd booked but were considering regretting, were filled with eternal sunshine. On our way out for breakfast on our penultimate day (the first sunny day) we ran into one of the hostel staff who was just about to take everyone on a free bike tour. Just what the doctor ordered! In our stinginess and naivety we were solely relying on the free leaflet map which actually told us nothing about what our route actually looked like. We'd spent many soggy miles getting lost and irate this way. The countryside was even more spectacular in the sunshine than in the rain. And the moving air as we cycled kept us cool. Our guide told us that a lot of rice paddies, especially the ones you can take tours to, are kept solely to attract tourists. They don't need them for the rice as they make more money with the tours so, like the Highland cattle in Scotland, they're purely decorative.

We had another day of physical exhaustion and map related general lostness and confusion, before leaving on the sleeper bus for Hong Kong. This bus was infinitely nicer than the nasty Vietnamese ones, and we adopted some other travellers for border-crossing moral support.

Paul had arranged for us to couchsurf with Ada, a warden at a charity trust boarding school (perhaps for naughty kids?), and we had a set of instructions to get there. First of all, joy of joys, we were back in a city with a metro system. We've discovered we love cities with metros. This is how we can forgive London. Maybe we'd even cope with living in Glasgow. Second set of joys – though we had been relishing the chance to battle the language barrier, there is quite a lot of English spoken in HK (for obvious reasons) and it made figuring out the right bus and right place to get off a lot easier. Third joy – the shopping centre where we were to meet Ada had a free customer telephone so we didn't have to spend money and hours fiddling with a coin-operated one. Hurrah!

Ada whisked us up the road to the school and gave us reams of helpful introductory instructions, a form to fill in (the most testing question being 'what are your hobbies?' - nothing like the kind of paranoia-forms we would have had to fill in back home!) and then showed us to our room for rest and shower before lunch. We were lodged in one of the boys' floors of the boarding house surrounded by dorms, with our own bathroom, private bedroom, fridge and kettle. Such luxury! At lunch we were introduced to Erature, a young lady from Malaysia who was working there temporarily. She showed us how to queue, collect our lunch (Chinese school food!) and sit on our respective boys and girls sides of the room. We had quite a few interesting meals in that place. Poor Paul was left all alone on a table of boys, and all the kids were pretty reluctant to speak to us (although we suspect they spoke a lot more English than they let on). After lunch the kids had activities – today, 'watermelon ball'. This was essentially 5-aside football played with a plastic blow-up watermelon coloured ball. Go on my son!

Later on we met the staff and Bobby, our designated interpretor who would be helping us with our presentation to the kids after the weekend. Ada's attitude towards Bobby was hilarious. 'I don't like this boy's personality,' she told us. 'He is too passive. I want him to learn confidence.' Later she asked us, 'have you seen the fat kid, your interpretor, yet?' Bobby was shy, but we had a back-up member of staff in case he bottled out.

That evening it was dinner 'Chinese style' (they consider their lunch to be 'Western style', although to us it tasting like Chinese takeaway) where we all all sat round tables with dishes in the centre and helped ourselves. I was permitted to sit with Paul on a boys' table (they still weren't talking to us) and we were shown how to go and collect the plates for the table etc etc and guessed how to navigate our way around eating conventions (do you use different chopsticks to serve your food than to eat with?).

The kids had more activities after that, so we sorted out our plans for the next day. Essentially, our visit to the Russian embassy. Ah the Russians. We're beginning to wonder why we're even going there at all. The visa form was like applying for a job as a Russian. Worse, as all we wanted was a transit visa, a job as a Russian in transit. It had very small spaces to answer questions such as 'name all the countries you have visited in the last 10 years and when' (in 3 lines) ! ! ! Give your last 2 jobs and current employer's address, chief's name, phone numbers. 'Do you have specialist training in firearms, explosives, nuclear, biological or chemical substances?' (for Paul, yes). What organisations or charities are you involved with or co-operate with? Etc etc. It would have been funny if it hadn't felt so invasive and impertinent. We were thinking perhaps we didn't want to go to Russia that badly after all, if this was the effort we had to put in. We felt that even more strongly (to the point of outrage) when we made it to the embassy the next day and the stern-faced Russians charged us £100 each! What's so good about bloody Russia anyway, I ask you? Why don't they want us to visit? Do they not want our nice foreign money for their economy? Turned out this initial bout of hoop-jumping was only the tip of the iceberg. We're not even staying in Russian, godamnit! The trans-Mongolian had better be the highlight of the whole entire trip.

So Paul was fuming quite a lot as we wandered quite aimlessly around the financial buildings of Hong Kong Island. We had a bit of time to kill before our next engagement at 6.15. By pure coincidence, about a week before we were due to arrive in HK, a HK British Council representative had sent and enquiry to Paul through the Chemical Connection website (the science communication project he did for the university). She was quite surprised when Paul said they could meet in person. So we met in a posh cafe in a posh shopping centre full of Suits (it's all about Suits in HK Island) and they talked science festivals and workshops.

That evening we had the floor to ourselves at the school as all the boarders had gone home. It was eerily quiet since the night before they'd spent all evening tearing up and down the corridors shouting. Erature kindly let us in as the school was locked. This was a dance we'd have to do with her all weekend – arrange a time for her to let us out in the morning, go out for the day and phone her from the free phone in the shopping centre asking her to let us back in again in 15 mins. Sometimes things would be a lot simpler if we had a phone with us.

Saturday we were meeting an old school friend of mine, Alice Lo. I'd been to stay with her (and another friend – they shared me) in HK 11 years ago over the 1999 Christmas holidays. It was strange to be back as it felt quite different. Also I hadn't seen Alice since we left school so it was quite exciting. She took us to lots of places using the 'public light bus' system that we probably wouldn't have been able to find on our own. Some places were familiar from before, including some pretty spectacular live seafood. Actually I've never seen fish so huge, crustaceans so colourful, or creatures so weird. It was raining quite hard by the end, but it was a fun day out and great to see Alice again. She also revealed to us why couchsurfing in Asia has been so much more difficult than e.g. South America - there's just not a culture of having people to stay. They don't like it. Seems I was quite lucky to have stayed back in 1999!

The rain became a big feature of that weekend. We decided to do our customary shopping centre-junk food-cinema day and went to see Pirates of the Caribbean. It was good, we enjoyed it. After it got dark there was a brief break in the rain and we went to Kowloon to look at the typical skyscraper-lights view of Hong Kong island. Not ten minutes after we were safely back at the school, though, the storm hit with a vengeance and there was much flooding.

I must add that we very diligently shopped in ParkNShop during our stay (treating ourselves to cheese – yes, cheese! - and bread that night) – people who know Logan will understand why.

School again on Monday and this was our big day. We retrieved our passports from the 'friendly' Russians in the morning, all safely and expensively visa'd up, and came back for lunch (another food adventure, though not as crazy as the breakfasts which I'm glad we experienced but wouldn't like to make a habit of). Bobby was nowhere to be seen, but we were sure he'd pull through.

We were presenting in the dining room and the kids had been promised dancing – but we also had a short talk to do. We were starting to have second thoughts about this as Ada kept telling us they didn't like seminars (then why did she ask us to tell them about Scotland?) but, well, Bobby needed the public speaking experience for his passive character. One of the members of staff had made a nice display all about Scotland for us and we were set up with mics and a projector screen and everything. After school a team came to move all the tables, and then at the very last possible minute (waiting until the bell had gone) the kids shuffled in.

It was immediately a more daunting prospect than we'd imagined or than anywhere we'd faced before. We had support from the staff, and Bobby performed fantastically, but the kids were truly the worst behaved I've ever come across. What's more, they were the worst behaved Paul had ever come across and he's visited a lot more schools than me. The chatting amongst themselves throughout alone was distracting (there were a lot of them, it was loud) but then things dissolved into chaos when it came to teaching the dancing. It's very difficult to be authoritative with a language barrier, and they did the whole 'urrrgh! A BOY! I can't be partners with a BOY!!' (Vice versa for girls, and some boys objected to being partnered with each other too) beyond the usual adolescent patheticness.

It was all quite funny really, if not horribly frustrating. Ada had assured us they were all excited to learn about Scottish dancing, but this wasn't apparent as about half of them refused to do anything at all. In the end Paul got a self-conscious all-boy demonstration group going and they even managed it with music. Boy it was all hard work! The staff felt we had been received well, although we weren't so sure!

They were quite hyper during dinner and some of the girls made a half-effort to say a few words to us, so maybe it had worked after all. Bobby was certainly in high spirits. It was strange, because we'd assumed an Asian school would have the kids all orderly and whipped into shape (like the Japanese schoolchildren on the plane to Singapore, and like the kids in Cambodia) but a special kind of chaos reigned here.

In all it was a really interesting experience and it would have been good to stay longer and get more involved (who knows, perhaps some of them might even have begun to talk to us?). But once again it was time to move on and press back into mainland China.

About HK's relationship with China – Alice noted that the pre-'97 days were really the best, but right now they do have the best possible deal. They have nearly all the autonomy of a successful city state, but can also go asking China for help with anything they can't do themselves. And China's doing pretty well for itself these days. So long as they're left to do things their way, being under the wing of a world superpower isn't that bad.

Saturday 14 May 2011

Same Same but Different

We'd selected our hotel in Hoi An very carefully and booked it on the basis that it had cable TV with BBC World. The Royal Wedding footage kicked off with a BBC World version with Mishal Husain outside Buckingham palace and I was a bit concerned we were going to get some odd BBC World Asian version of it but at 3.30pm it flicked over to Hew, Chris, Fern and Matt and for a few hours, we were back home. Historically, I've been quite anti-Royal but in I've softened in recent years and in particular as a result of this trip. One of the questions we often get asked is "when is your independence day?" and the fact is, we don't have one as everyone else gained their independence from us (chortle). In Scotland we have Burn's night which is kind of our "Scottish Celebration" but we don't have any form of "British/UK Celebration" apart from events surrounding the Royal Family; be it the Queen's birthday, Trooping of the Colour or a Royal Wedding. Yes, they're un-elected, maybe they do cost the taxpayer some amount of money (although I would imagine in the scheme of things it's not that much) but they do bring us a huge amount in tourist revenue and it would be hard to imagine the UK without them. So I view the Royal Wedding as an excuse to celebrate the UK - we do pomp and pagentry better than anyone ese in the world and it's a spectacular sight, whatever your political opinions. It's worth noting in particular that people wave Union Flags, not Royal Standards. For us particularly, this was a way to feel a bit close to home from so far away. Also, two young people are in love, they're getting married in spectacular fashion and we all get to watch. People back home get to have a day off and do some serious partying if they want. Isn't that a nice thing? It's a shame that there was quite so much anti-wedding vitriol on Facebook.

So what did we think? We'll, it was one of the most well-oragnised and beautifully executed bit of pagentry I've ever seen. I thought they both looked great, good choice of hymns and certainly a good choice of vows. I wasn't too keen on the anthem or motet mind but I've always hated John Rutter with a passion. Overall, fab and I really hope they have a long and happy marriage, particularly when so much of the rest of their family has buggered it up big style.

Anyhow, back to Vietnam. Our hotel really was stunning - balcony, Air Conditioning, breakfast included, hot an cold water and for the first time in ages...a kettle! This meant that we could boil water for drinking - buying water is a constant chore and makes a considerable hole in our budget.

Actually, that brings me to our budget which is a topic that many people ask us about - how on earth are we budgeting and therfore affording all of this? Well, the UK Chancellor would have fun understanding our budget but I'll have a go at explaining.

First of all, we have the daily budget. That's money we've saved from employment, gigs and generally living frugally while we were earning in Edinburgh. It's £30 a day for the two of us whch sounds like very little and to be honest, sometimes it is. To keep track of it we have a running total and running average and I'm proud to say that as a result of a lot of Couchsurfing and a lot of extremely kind friends (particularly in the USA and Canada), we're currently under budget there. That means that we can afford a tour in Mongolia which is great because otherwise we'd get to see nothing but Ulan Bator and we hear it's not that nice.

Second, the "extras" budget. This is a small amount of money that's coming in as a result of renting our our flat (to our lovely tennants Matt and Nat who always pay their rent on time!) and a bit of web-work that I'm still doing. We keep this for big expenditures such as our Inca Trail, Greyhound passes and and Japan Rail passes.

Third, we have the redundancy budget. This is money that I got when my contract ended at the University of Edinburgh. Most of it went on our New Zealand Campervan.

Fourth and finally we have the surprise budget. Over the course of our trip we've had a few quite extraordinarily kind people give us small amounts of money - particularly at Christmas and birthdays. We tend to roll it all together and spend it on something that we wouldnt otherwise have done or live a wee bit of luxury somewhere. That was where our posh Bangkok hotel and ladyboy show came from for example.

Then we anally write down everything we spend in a little notebook and do constant calculations at a bad rate of exchange so we know where we stand!

So there you have it, the truth exposed and the question that everybody wanted answered, answered.

So, back to Vietnam (again). Hoi An was a lovely place, possibly even our favourite place in South East Asia so far. It reminds us a bit of Trinidad in Cuba, gorgeous, low colourful buildings slightly crumbling but in a really good way. In the evening you can walk by the river which is lit-up by chinese-style lanterns and candles floating in paper boats. It's true that it is really touristy and you do get the usual offers ("hey, you wan't motobike?", "you buy, happy hour?") etc. etc. but they're not too persistant. We took a load of wanders round the city and out to the beach as well which is a little less trashy than the one at Nha Trang.

We also by chance met up with Joe, a chap from Yorkshire who we'd previosly met in the hostel in Saigon so we went for some drinks with another guy (Julian) he'd acquired who was also travelling the world. We actually ended up staying longer in Hoi An than we'd planned as all the transport out was booked due to a holiday but we really didn't mind. We were happy just to sit on our balcony and relax. We even had breakfast on our balcony instead of in the hotel dining room which was a really great thing to be able to do. It was just a lovely few days, peppered by repeated Royal Wedding Highlights on BBC World which we didn't really mind seeing again.

One of the things we tried to get used to was bargining for things. This is something we found quite extarordinarily difficult. All the sellers will give you a massively inflated price when they see that you're a foreigner and it's then your job to try and get them down to something close to the local price. The thing to bear in mind though is that they will turn you away before giving you the actual local price as they see it as your duty to pay more as you're so rich and affluent and clearly have money to fling around. Also, there's a massive difference between those selling goods for tourists and those selling goods in markets to locals. Those selling to locals don't care quite so much as they'll just sell to the next local who comes along whereas those selling tourist stuff will hassel you incessantly as you're their market (and so few people buy from them - they're everywhere, all selling exactly the same stuff). We found that trying and failing a few times with different sellers is helpful as you get an idea on what the local price might be (or what they're willing to accept from you). It also helps not to care that much about buying whatever-it-is as then you're prepared to walk away and when you do, they'll chase you down with a better price. Finally, you have to do it all with a smile. This is something we found really hard, despite our usual cheerful and sunny characters as we find the whole concept of taking the oh-so-rich-and-stupid foreigners for a ride offensive but we did get better as we went on through Vietnam. A good strategy was to bring they fact that they're overcharging you out into the open in a funny way "look at her grin, she knows she's overcharging us!", "What? I could get six of these for that price at home, you've just spotted my blonde hair!", etc etc.

One thing that we didn't bargin that hard for (and perhaps maybe we should) was the dress that Charlotte had tailor made. If you've seen the "Top Gear" Vietnam special you'll know that Hoi An is the Saville Row of Vietnam and everyone comes here to get clothes made on the cheap. Almost every shop is a tailor or shoe shop, hung with all sorts of beautiful things. Charlotte decided to get a dress made and had sketched some ideas so we were in the market. Ideally, we would have gone to loads of tailors, discussed the ideas, get quotes, beat them down etc. but we really couldn't be bothered with that. Our hotel had punted us in the direction of the tailor they own and since we really liked our hotel we decided to check them out. They were very friendly, professional and helpful modifying the dress from Charlotte's ideas and sketches to something possible. Measurements were taken in the morning a fitting in the evening and after adjustments, we picked up the finished product 24 hours after walking in in the first place. Quite impressive" It was a gorgeous fit and looked amazing on Charlotte and was a price she was happy with so all was good. Maybe we could have got a lower price with a bit more effort but we really didn't care. We do feel bad for having broken every rule in the Hoi An shopping book, though.

We were definitely sad to leave Hoi An as we'd really loved it and settled in. Our hotel was just spot on, we'd identified a Vietnamese sandwich person who made sandwiches we really liked (Vietnamese sandwiches really are the thing), we'd identified a curry place we really like (Ganesh's - highly recommended), asigned ourselves a "contemplation bench" by the side of the river for lunch-eating and thinking of big thoughts and even made a couple of friends in Joe and Julian who we met up with several times for dinks and nosh. Our transport out was a "sitting bus" to Hue and then another horrid "sleeper bus" to Hanoi. There were more people sleeping in the aisles (unoficial passengers methinks) and the toilet was blocked and like a pond. In case you're ever in Vietnam, the company not to use is "Camel Tours" and they were also responsible for what happened next.

Our bus arrived in Hanoi and one of the bus guys gave us a long speech about how if we hadn't booked accommodation the we could have a free transfer to "their" hotel where we'd get a good price. We'd already booked anothe place (as we always do) so we were ushered into a taxi which we knew we'd have to pay for but it was OK as it had a meter. The driver put our bags in the front seat which meant that we couldn't see the meter so we had no idea what the fee was going to be. Our hostel had told us that a taxi should be about VNF60 000-VND80 000 (about $3-$4 ot £2-£3). When he stopped (after going to the wrong hostel first), the price on the meter was VND490 000 ($24 or £16) - it was clearly rigged and this was a scam taxi. We argued but he told us it was a "long way" (yeah right) and after a bit of a fuss we managed to get hime down to VND300 000 ($15 or £10). He had the doors locked and wouldn't unlock them until I'd handed over the money (clearly well practiced at this game) so we eventually made our escape but we arrived at our hostel raging. The hostel folk were very nice and sympathetic - I think they're used to it. NB there's not very much you can do to get out of this kind of situation, but someone later told us that a tactic you can try is to start taking photos of the driver and taxi. This might scare him into submission.

Fact is, we're trying to do this tour to understand and respect other people's cultures but what's the point when people clearly don't respect us? From Thailand through Cambodia to Vietnam this has been constant and I've said it before in previous posts - we are viewed as walking ATMs. So far my impression of the people here is that they are selfish and disrespectful and it makes me a) not want to be here and b) not want to encourage others to come either. I have to confess that I was perilously close to finding us the next flight out of Vietnam back to the UK (Charlotte's note - I wouldn't have agreed to that!) as I couldn't see why I should remain supporting a tourist economy that is both crooked and unpleasant and the whole experince made me more homesick than ever. I calmed down after a shower and a bit of breakfast and the knowledge that it's not long to go now. The taxi company not to use is "Taxi Trung Viet" with the number "62 61 61 61" on the side.

Hanoi was an assault on the senses after the relative calm of Hoi An. The number of scooters had skyrocketed and the applicibility of driving rules had diminished significantly. We had found our friend Joe from Hoi An (who'd had a similarly horrible journey but at least hadn't been scammed) so we joined forces and went to explore the city. It was a bit grubbier than Hoi An but certainly had a charm with some really nice colonial buildings. It also had a lake in the middle which was great to walk round and we even managed to cross the motorway (death defying things that we are) and investigated a non-touristy area.

That evening another fellow UK traveller, Julie arrived and we met her over breakfast the next morning. In true backpacker style we joined forces and headed into Hanoi. Charlotte and I were the experts by this point so we were able to do the directing. We had another wander around the lake before heading to the "Hanoi Hilton", a former prison where the French held Vietnamese dissidents and the Vietnamese later held captured Americans. Propaganda abounded with the Vietnamese referred to as "comrades" and the French the evil imperialists. They claimed that the Americans were treated well with regular parties, letters from home, entertainment etc. but it's hard to gague what was really true. It was really interesting though.

We took in the Cathedral that afternoon which looked strangely out of place in Hanoi. We also found a restored traditional house which was really nice and had a gramophone and a James Brown record. Traditional indeed!

We managed to find a nice wee street-restaurant that evening which had a selection of things to BBQ which you could point at, have BBQd and then be charged for. It was pretty good and not expensive at all. There we also met and joined forces with Clemens - a German chap travelling on his own and looking for some friends.

The next day was our cue to go and visit Dead Uncle Ho (Ho Chi Minh). He was the leader of the Vietnamese struggle against the French and then later the North Vietnamese effort. He died at the age of 79 in 1969 - long before the war was settled. He had originally requested that he be cremated and his ashes scattered all over Vietnam to signify a united country but that was ignored, and he was embalmed and laid in state at a mausoleum in Hanoi. It was a bit of an adventure getting to it. We met at our hostel and headed towards the citadel. The hostel staff had marked a route through but that turned out to be blocked by a guard with a gun who then chased us off as we stood looking confused at our map. Eventually we found our way (via a long way round) within sight of the mausoleum which had a massive grassy area in front with paths so we started heading accross to the sound of whistles blowing and guards chasing us off. After lots more walking we got to security where our water bottles were removed from our posession and our cameras impounded to be picked up after we'd been through. Closer to the mausoleum, the guard uniform changed to white, I was signalled to remove my hat (which I would have done anyway thank you) and we were in. For maybe 1 minute we processed past the slightly ghostly looking figure with it's wispy beard. I was prodded by one of the guards on the way round - we reckon he didn't like me walking with my hands behind my back which is odd as I've always seen it as the most respectful way to walk and I was really doing my best. It's worth going to (but you can only get in if it's before 11am and not Monday or Friday) simply for those few minutes of gorgeous refrigeration within the building. Afterwards we took a look round the Ho Chi Minh museum which was completely incomprehensible with Ho Chi Minh's various good deeds represented by fruit, a brain-type open area and a Picasso-style sculpture. More of a weird art gallery than a place of information. Befuddled, we took a look at the Temple of Literature before lunch at "Koto" which is a training restaurant for street kids to learn to be waiters, chefs etc. It was a wee bit more expensive than our usual fare but was really good and had a really nice atmosphere.

We all boarded the bus the next morning to Halong Bay - probably the #1 tourist spot in Vietnam. The bay had 1969 limestone islands which tower into the sky and loom spectacularly out through the mist. The way to see them is to book an overnight stay on a boat - there are about 400 tourist boats in the bay of varying quality but we'd managed to get a good and inexpensive one through our hostel. Many people had been worried about Halong Bay trips due to the news story about the one that sank, and all the deaths. And indeed, we did watch one of the other boats sinking in the bay on the first day. Hmmm. We started off with a fantastic lunch with crab cakes and plenty sea-food and then floated out towards Sung Sot Cave where we took in some of the rock formations including a giant turtle and a huge penis pointing at a nicely placed hole in the roof. It was then a bit of kayaking, some jumping off the side of the boat (I declined but Charlotte had a go!) before a spectacular sunset and a splendid dinner. It was a great cheer-up after our unpleasant bus and taxi experience a couple of days before. We made our way back to Hanoi the next day and bid our fond farewells to Julie and Clemens who were starting the trip south. It was been really nice to pick up and join forces with some fellow travellers for a few days (and with Joe and Julian a few days before) - maybe we'll try and do that again to help us deal with the madness of China. That evening we tried Bun Cha at a down-at-heel looking place recommended on Wikitravel. You get a bowl of flame grilled beef meatballs, some beef slices, spring rolls, loads of salad and herbs and more noodles than we could eat - fantastic food but the rudest service we'd come across so far in the whole of Asia! Oh well.

So that was 'Nam. We had one day around the hostel chilling and planning before boarding the bus that would take us to China. It turned out to be one of our easiest border crossings yet. The bus dropped us off and a golf cart picked us up and took us to the Vietnam exit bit. You basically had to fling your passport through the window and hope that one of the officials would pick it up, stamp it and give it back to you. There were loads of people crowded round the window and we were the only westerners. Eventually, one of the officials (a man) spotted me, found my passport an immediately started complimenting me on my hair. I think he hadn't noticed the beard and was chatting me up. He was then a little confused when he saw my photo with short hair. We escaped that to another golf cart which took us to the Chinese entry point. I'd been pretty nervous about this as I'd heard that they can be a bit nippy, sometimes confiscating Lonely Planets for example (as the Chinese LP has a map with Taiwan in a different colour than China and of course as everyone knows, Taiwan is part of China.). They turned out to be very friendly and easy going however and a very nice guard showed us how to have a machine scan our passports and print a form so we didn't have to fill it out by hand. I had a bit of a heart-stopping moment when the passport-checking guy spent ages looking at my photo, looking up at me and then repeating the operation, clearly confused by the short-hair/long-hair dichotomy but after consulting his colleague gave me the nod and let me in. Customs didn't even bother looking at the X-rays of our bags as they went through and thus, we were in China and heading off on another golf cart to our bus. Easy!

But a final word on 'Nam. I think it was our favoutite of the SE Asian countries but clearly still has it's issues. Maybe that's epitomised by the "Same Same but Different" T-shirts a lot of the Western tourists wear (everywhere in SE Asia. Everywhere!). It derives from the fact (we think) that if you've got the choice of two tours (for examples) and one's cheaper and you ask what the difference is, you frequently get the answer "Same Same". This is probably not the case and the truth is that they will, in fact will be different and probably not in a good way. Also a reference to what locals tend to say when they're ripping you off - 'same same Vietnamese!' The T-shirt seems to be some kind of bitter comment on local culture, but the locals have adopted the slogan too.

I can only really say what everyone says after visiting...."You don't know man, you weren't there!".