Day 85 - Phonsavan

Sleep all the way indeed! I guess I was remembering the trip from Vientiane to VV. Minibus that time, comfy enough seat that I was dozing involuntarily a lot of the way. Any time I looked out of the window, there was so much dust in the air it was like driving through fog, or a sandstorm. This time I was packed into a minivan with a Dutch couple and a Swiss couple, obviously retirees, a Laotian who worked in mining near VV (copper), and two girls who didn't say anything the entire trip. Took a little over six hours, during which my face hurt on the inside from the sinus infection, and my head hurt on the outside - the roads were so potholed that I kept knocked my head against the window and roof.

At one point a jumping snake flickers across the road. The scenery consists of sheer limestone peaks, rising out of the landscape like craggy headstones. The valleys dip sharply beneath us, exposing the hinterland. Driving through the cloud layer is like something out of a dream, the mist clinging to the tips of the fir trees like so much candyfloss. Then the driver starts blaring Laotian pop music at us. Dream over.

***

Phonsavan is a dusty one-street town, on first impression. I hunt for a guesthouse with wifi in room, so I can Skype finally (I promised about five days ago). The Jar cafe's room is clean, so I take it. There is even a small balcony outside my room. I fall straight asleep, feverish. At one point the room is full of people. I wake about three hours later, escaping my hallucinations. I get dinner in a place called 'Craters' - tasteful. The wifi password is "BBQ chicken". I spend most of the meal with my head in my hands, hoping the soup will miraculously cure me.

I return to my room for more sleep, which is when I realise my 'balcony' is an outdoor access corridor. People run by frequently, and some stop to make phone calls. My window does not close. The walls on the other sides are made of thin wood. Have to add these to the list of things to check in future. Then the wifi stops working while I am mid-Skype home. This is definitely the worst room I've ever staying in. Text Nora and Andrea to let them know our Skyping must be postponed again. Gah! If I had any energy, I would change hostel now. But even the thought of getting out of bed is too much. I think my body is in control of my mind now. The noise from the street outside is also incredibly loud. iPod in, sleep fitfully.

***

Random memory: I only forgot once, while driving the scooter in Ninh Binh, that I should be on the right-hand side of the road. Only once!

***

About five minutes after writing the above, I get on my bicycle and cycle off down the left-hand side of the road. Doh! Felt a bit better this morning - face still hurts, and an effort to move, but at least I can think clearly. Grab some breakfast, and see if I can book a tour. Only one fully day here, want to make the most of it, even in my befuddled state. No luck as a single person, so rent the crappiest mountain bike I have ever seen.

The roads are consistently dusty, though not badly surfaced. MTBing for 10km isn't much fun. I realise that I am dreading the return journey, that is a sign that I am clearly not well. Find Site 1 of the Plain of Jars without much difficulty. It's exactly what it says on the tin - a few clearings littered with these giant stone jars. Some have been swallowed partially by the ground, others are split into two or more pieces. It's quite an alien landscape. There can't have been any practical purpose, water collection would've been better beside a house. The archaeologist in me says ritualistic, but sure what else is there?

Wander around for a bit - can't go exploring because there's still the risk of UXO - unexploded ordnance. During the Vietnam War, Laos won the title of most bombed country in the world. In what is referred to as the 'Secret War', the USA bombed eastern Laos heavily, in a attempt to sever the HCM trail. Craters dot the PoJ site, and red/white markers demarcate the safe zones. In various places around town, safety posters warn children of the danger of playing with UXO.

Collection of UXO in an agency in the town

Make my way back to town, and out to 'Mulberry Farm', which turns out to be a silk farm/factory. Having seen one in Vietnam, I opt to skip it, and find a new hotel instead. Lunch w/ hot lemon, then sleep. Think I've slept more in the last two days than the previous week.

Day 68 - Dong Ha

Breakfast at the hostel yesterday. Said hello to an Aussie from Perth - Chad. He instantly offers to be my tour guide for when I get there. Very outgoing chap. Hailey and Katie arrive down, then Bobby, and John appears at 11. We wander down to the citadel, Hué's focal point. There's not a lot to see - some crumbling walls, a few stately out-buildings. We get lunch in a café where the proprietor is deaf, and mostly mute. He's excellent at charades though! Lovely squid for me. Bobby and Katie try the Hué speciality, a kind of eggy pancake, but it's rather greasy.

Bobby, Hailey, Katie, John

Frogs coming out in the rain

Katie doesn't look impressed

The rain has started, so we head to a bar for some pool (nearly won at doubles, potted all the balls myself, then Katie got the white with the black) and Cleudo! Amazingly, I got Cleudo right first time! Whoop! It ruined it for everyone else though. Chatted to two Irish girls who had been in the club last night - Cassie and Ciara. Ciara is full of passion for Bolivia.

Back to the hostel to wait with girls for their bus. They are forgotten about until they ring the bus company. Got talking to Chad again, and two Norwegians - Ingunn and Gretel. End up doing rounds of cocktails during happy hour. Joined by Dutchies - Molusch (?) and Arjen. So much sugar in the cocktails that I'm short of breath. Back to Brown Eyes again, plenty of dancing. The Vietnamese in the club are great craic, and shots appear at random in front of me. Aware that I have to be up at six, I run home through the lashing rain at about 2am.

***

Wake okay, get brought by moto to a café, and meet Duncan and Anita, a Kiwi couple. I'm probably still a bit drunk. 15 of us on the tour, including Timmy from Cobh, and two Dutch guys who are travelling through Vietnam by motorbike. Also two Polish girls! First Poles I've met. The Norwegian sisters always to be Polish to get discounts in guesthouses.

Tour guide has a north Vietnamese bias, repeatedly mentioning the "liberation of south Vietnam". We visit the village of an ethnic minority - the Van Kieu tribe. Feels intrusive - treating them like they were exhibits in a zoo. The children didn't really know how to act, almost being frightened of us.

You've got SWEETS!?

Then to the remains of Khe-Sanh airbase, which now houses a small museum, and some tanks and aircraft. Finally the Vinh Moc tunnels, far larger than Cu Chi, they were a complete underground village - town hall, maternity room (17 babies born there) - and right by the beach. Almost able to comfortably walk in them.

There was a Viet child there, who had been born in the tunnels, and spent six years living there. Severely impaired, he works as a guide in the dark, showing the way with a torch. We went through one section of about 300m, unlit. Some people used torches... I'm not sure what the point of experiencing complete darkness is, if you're going to use a torch. It's like talking in the cinema - ruins your experience, and that of others around you.

***

Waiting in a dingy little café for the bus to Ninh Binh. Hope it arrives... and hope I can get off in the right place!

Day 61 - Kon Tum

Does not feel like Halloween at all! Just a note about SE Asia - from the sink in Battambang to the urinal in the random café on Saturday, and various hotel showers - plumbing is bloody leaky here.

***

Somewhat amusing that I was giving out about water earlier, and am now saturated. Coming over a 2700m mountain pass, we put on wet gear to protect ourselves from the mist. Was kinda amazing, rolling through the clouds. Stopped at a big waterfall for a photo op. Then downhill - visibility dropped to about ten feet at one point, then the rain began to pelt down. Raindrops at 60kmph are kinda sore. Through some minor flooding (feet now sodden) to the hotel, which is unfortunately the most basic yet, but at least there's hot water!

Nicci and Peter

First stop of the day was Vinh Son orphanage in KT. Bought some fruit at the market to bring. Big wooden church there - original French building, about 100yrs old. All the orphanage is on Catholic church ground, along with some other charitable buildings, like a clinic and a school.

Saw some toddlers being minded by some young teenagers, before Frank arrived. A good friend of Spencer's, he's been involved in the running of the orphanage for ~6 years. He personally sponsors six girls in the sewing school. He walked and talked with us, telling us about his (wonderful!) work and the sort of children they care for.

Spencer and Frank

Some are deposited by their parents who cannot both care for the kids and work to support them. Spencer said last night that some of the villages will even bury children alive if their parents pass away, rather than have them suffer. One girl arrived with no clothes, only a blanket. Most come from Bahnar or Suda areas: ethnic minority hill tribes. This means that often they can't speak Vietnamese, only their own dialect.

Frank spoke of his frustration in trying to integrate them. Many people come to teach English (well-intentioned volunteers), but the children need to learn Viet. first.

At the sewing school they can learn a trade, and after 18 months return to their village and help their own people. Truly amazing work. We spent so much time discussing all the challenges, we hardly even saw the children. Any that passed said hello, giving a shy cute smile. Frank seems to have a 'friendly uncle' bond with most.

Sewing class

From there, we popped into a Bahnar hut - a raised structure with a tall, pointed thatch roof. The taller the hut, the stronger the tribe; the more beautiful, the more skilful. It's used as a town hall, to hold festivals and celebrations.

Then Hamburger/Charlie Hill, site of one of the first incursions of the VC into south Vietnam. Sinh gave us another history lesson, showing us some bomb craters that littler the hill. Đắk Tô for a war memorial with two tanks, and lunch, before racing down the old American airstrip nearby. On to the Ho Chi Minh trail proper after that.

Spencer, Peter and Uncle Sinh

Admire a rough wooden bridge, and high-five some children living beside it. High-fiving is international! Then through the mountains and clouds to our new hotel.

***

Appetite's been in overdrive the past few days - ravenous all the time.

***

Spencer's bike is a Honda Master, 125cc. He explained that to get a 250cc, he'd need to upgrade his licence, and also work in the cavalcade of any visiting ministers. 125cc is plenty though - I've quickly grown to love the sensation of being buffeted and whipped by the wind at 60kmph.

***

Vietnamese houses tend to be narrow, but deep. They remind me of pictures I've seen of Dutch cities.

Day 60 - Kon Tum

Realised this morning that last night was the first time I've slept in a room alone since I reached Russia. Was nice to wake up at my own pace.

Today was our longest day of riding - 220km. Had a quick chat at breakfast with one of the groups we keep seeing along the route. Two of them are sisters from Norway. Hit the road after an ATM stop, first visit is a mushroom farm. Sinh describes how they put some rotting wood into a bag of damp sawdust (?) and let the fungus develop, slitting the bag open in spots to let the mushrooms sprout. The shed is like an alien nursery - so many containers hanging from the ceiling like IV bags in a blood bank, with black or white mushrooms bursting forth. Creepy.

Uncle Sinh also gives us a quick history/geography lesson on the HCM trail. BMT was the centre of a VC attack, and used as a staging base to invade the rest of the south. He has so much knowledge of Vietnamese flora, fauna, history, people.

Uncle Sinh

Next a war memorial, and Spencer relates the tale of his grandfather. Living at the border with two sons, he sends one north (Spencer's uncle) and one south (his father), not knowing which side is good or bad, or who will win, or if either son will survive. Both lived through the war, but his uncle had to arrest his father afterwards, whereby he spent 18 months in a re-education camp.

Spencer

I'm also surprised to learn that his father's south Vietnamese connections still prevent Spencer from doing things like becoming a policeman or politician. HCMC is still Saigon to southerners. He also confesses to teasing northerners at college, pissing on their army hats. He says the best thing HCM did was win over the hill tribes, who created the HCM trail, key to winning the war.

Seb & Nicci

Peter rapping

Me going vroom vroom!

Stopped at a pepper plantation then. Vietnam is such an industrious, productive nation - #2 exporter of coffee (after Brazil), #2 exporter of rice (after Thailand), rubber, tea, pepper, mushrooms, fruit... the list is endless when talking to Sinh and Spencer.

Pepper

Delicious fried chicken for lunch, meet the Norwegians again. Rubber plantation, scenic lake ("look at the whiteys!") and then tea, where we killed the atmosphere of some puppy love. Amazing sunset as we race into KT, dinner in a disgusting alley (but was actually yum!), and beers by the river.

Peter, Sinh, Spencer and chicken!

Field of tea!

Good night!

Day 50 - Ho Chi Minh City / Saigon

Dreamt last night of a petite German who thought I was too forward. And lots of people dancing.

***

Jesus. The faces of so many children. Bodies destroyed by Agent Orange, but not their lives. Harrowing, I think, is the most accurate word. An armless man looks for money in the grounds, cornering me between two tanks. The $20 I gave in SR seems a pitiful amount. Inside, I donate more in one of the boxes.

The War Remnants Museum. Went with S&N, and Jake and Bec, whom we met last night. Went for a few drinks of one of the super cheap bia hoi joints - 6,000VND a beer. That's about five glasses for a euro. Chatted with two Viet students, wanted to practice their English - a teacher and a physicist. They teach me, "một, hai, ba, yo!", the traditional toast in Vietnam. "Doh Maui Mai!" is motherfucker.

Breakfast of noodles and sausage, met a girl Jo who had met Brigitte. Bumped into her at the museum later. We wandered through the city - the market, Notre Dame cathedral, the Post Office (nice building) - again, more practising English with locals. Lunch at a place with no English, got a hot pot. Tried to order dog, got dogfish instead.

Notre Dame

Not dog

The museum though - lots of tanks and plans in the grounds. Ground floor dedicated to international protests against the US war. Fairly presented.

"Aggressive War Crimes" painted the US in a horrific light, as did the Agent Orange exhibitions. Children born with deformities. So crippling, and with such little support from anyone beyond their own families and villages.

One highlight was 'Requiem', a display of war photography - Larry Burrows, Robert Capa, Henri Huet... such superb work. Reminds me why I wanted to take up photography, those childhood dreams of being a photojournalist, cutting out shots from the paper to hang on the wall.

But it's the images of the children that will stick in my mind - armless, legless, eyeless, withered, dwarfed... every kind of physical limitation. Preserved conjoined foetuses. The horrors of war. What mankind does to its own kind.

Harrowing.