Showing posts with label driving. Show all posts
Showing posts with label driving. Show all posts

Saturday 29 October 2011

Day 59 - Lak

Random memory: HCMC, bia hoi. Playing asshole as a drinking game. Jake making a rule that people must accept whatever's offered to them, which leads to myself, James and Seb smoking the vilest cigars known to man.

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Discovered in Mui Ne that my hard drive has a virus, and all my files on there were lost. Angry, frustrated for a few minutes. Up to Beijing is online. Most of those after that, in fact, all of those after that are still on SD cards, which I have saved. And files are also copied to S&N's hard drive. Not so bad. Only thing missing is my compact card, which I know Dom has. And one SD card is corrupted - from Battambang through PP, HCMC to Mui Ne - but I think it's recoverable. Always have a back-up.

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Lying in a long house in Lak, enclosed in a mosquito net. The family who live here have been preparing breakfast for themselves since about 5am. At 6.45, some one them tries out all their ringtones. SOme things are the same the world over! The wind is blowing strongly outside, S&N are still asleep.

Spent the 27th doing nought. The others slept late, so I didn't disturb them. Got a little lost wandering around town, did our laundry, called in to Tuan. He invited us back for pool later.

When we call in, there's a hotpot of fish on the go, and a bottle of Johnnie Walker. One of our drivers, Spencer, lost a bet, and buying the bottle is his forfeit. Several shots are consumed, then some beers. Some more whities arrive - Max and Lisa whom I recognise from the bus, an American Guy [that was his name], and James from England. Conversation flows. Lee, from Mui Ne, drops by as well. Turns out he's doing the same trip as us (5 days to Hoi An), but a day later. All the while the music is fantastic - Whipping Boy, the Frames, Radiohead... did they know I was coming?

Made a racket on the stairs in the dark at the hotel, am sent to bed by the owner.

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Yesterday morning we were greeted by our drivers/guides/interpreters/mechanics. Spencer is mine, a speed-loving stoic type, though he comes out of himself after a beer and some cards. He takes coners skilfully and with apparent ease, and appears to be in charge - himself and Tuan were in college together.

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Spencer outside the train station

Seb rides with Uncle Sinh, an older veteran, full of tiny details and wisdom. He cackles often, though is mostly silent at the dinner table. Late fifties?

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Uncle Sinh with Peter

Nicci is on Peter's bike. A family man, he is full of smiles and laughter, teaching her snippets of Vietnamese - "this is the 'yessir' road". Yessir being scary.

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Peter with Nicci

We stop at Dalat train station, the crazy house (a mixture of Dali and Escher, in Alice in Wonderland), a flower farm, elephant waterfall, a 'happy water' (rice wine) house, a silk factory, a silkworm farm, past a floating village... lunch is delicious, dinner more so. I have to stop myself over-eating, everything tastes so good.

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Silkworm cocoons

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Silk

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Sinh and me at Elephant Falls

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Lunch with a view

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Silkworms

The roads vary from rough trails of rocks, to potholed dirt tracks, to smooth tarmac. All the while I am entranced by the reflections in the back of Spencer's helmet - scenery rushing by, being hoovered up into a vortex behind my grinning visage. When I lower my visor, there are reflections of reflections.

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Sitting on the back at 60kmph, there's plenty of time to take everything in. Swathes of coffee plantations, lush greenery everywhere. As we pass through small hamlets, piglets amble across the road like stray dogs. We pass Lee and a Dutch guy several times - Less on a day trip, the latter on his way to Saigon.

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Peter and Uncle Sinh

We arrive at Lak, in a 'tourist' village - the only place where foreigners are allowed stay in homes in the highlands. It is a small peninsula jutting into Lak Lake, and we sit on the shore with a beer and watch the sunset. Simple pleasure.

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I must narrate a conversation I had with Crystal in HCMC, while discussing religion. She explained the communal view of life in China. That the view of the individual self does not matter, except in the eyes of the community. There is development nor encouragement of the sort of self-entitlement that exists in the west. It sounds like the only way a society that dense and crowded can get by, but the more I consider it, the more I prefer it. The greater good. It was something about the earnestness with which Crystal explained it.

It's most obvious in Asian road behaviour - constant flouting of the rules, but nobody gets angry. As long as the general greater good is preserved, all is well, and no horns are used in anger - zero road rage.

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The Vietnamese countenance is one of innocent vulnerability. I find it hard to see how Americans, Japanese, French, etc., all came here with a hard enough spirit to not only dominate, but try to completely obliterate these people. The children are cute nd friendly, and the women attractive. There's something innately becalming and joyful toi them, so much so that it baffles me they suffered civil war.

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Homestay is an odd term for what we did last night. I mean, we definitely stayed in a home, but zero contact with the family. Overnight we heard a neighbour's party, pigs squealing, baby crying, someone testing their ringtones, but no visibility bar the silhouettes through the dividing sheets.

When we went for breakfast, there were elephants loitering outside. At the first stop of the day, a hill overlooking the village, we could see an elephant crossing the lake. Second stop was a brick factory (at long last!). It was actually quite fascinating - from wet clay they have a giant play-doh machine that squeezes out a long brick shaped tube, which is then spliced by wires. The bricks are left to dry in the open, then in a shed, and finally they oven baked, turning them red.

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We paused at a burnt out church next, and Spencer told us of the Catholic dictator Diem, and the self-immolation of Buddhist monks in 1963, protesting their lack of freedom of religion.

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Two pythons next (less said the better), before a visit to a coffee plantation, and a strong blended cup. After that was the highlight of the day - a shower in a waterfall in the jungle, and a swim in a pool of the Serepok river. Amazing! Just the waterfall was a breath-taking experience, but to swim as well. Felt like I was Mowgli. Saw the Dray Sap falls then - massive, before heading on to Buôn Ma Thuột for our hotel.

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Coffee berries

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Me as Mowgli! With Uncle Sinh, and Seb behind

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The turquoise pool is where we swam

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Dray Sap Falls

Dinner of frog and more, though Nicci wasn't feeling well. Watched some footies afterwards with the lads to socialise a bit. Man U vs Everton (1-0) and Chelsea vs Arsenal (3-5). Back to the room to do nought, but hear Michael D Higgins is now President of Ireland. Happy days!

Friday 7 October 2011

Day 37 - Kunming

Read first half of Time Traveller's Wife yesterday evening. Dumplings and Yunnan cheese for dinner (Yunnan being the province of which Kunming is the capital). Somewhere between French toast and pizza.

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Rented a bike this morning, set out for a park beside Yunnan Lake. On the shore, I admire the steep hills opposite. I consult the map and realise there are roadways to the top, where there is a temple. Ah, the liberation of cycling! An antidote to the countless days I've spent on trains. I cross the causeway, stopping to take a photo. The water is green. Not pond scum green, but radioactive green. American-river-on-St-Patrick's-Day green.

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I press on, heading along the far shore. Frequent map consulting. As ever, I have underestimated the scale of things. I am pouring sweat before long. I round a corner, and at least half the mountain lies ahead still. I grimace. A Chinese woman gives me a thumbs up.

I get frequent hellos and 'ni hao'. They're not used to white madmen ascending their hills. On the way through Kunming, a man with his three daughters overtook me on a scooter. All three screamed "hello!". I kept pace about ten feet behind for 30 seconds, and then they shouted 'goodbye' as I began to drop.

The climb reminds me of the last day of the Ras de Cymru, but now I've nobody to race. I reach the end of the road, lock the bike, and buy a ticket for the Dragon's Gate. It reminds me of Skellig Michael somewhat. An ancient religious site, on the edge of a cliff. Though this one is surrounded by forest, and contains a multitude of halls, temples, pagodas, and a miniature stone forest (v. missable).

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I stop by Nie Er's tomb on the way down to gather my thoughts, and people stop and stare. Now I sit by a temple lower down the hill. It's so peaceful. Incense burning, a pond with fish and terrapins, and no crowds. Bliss. IN the temple itself, there is a big laughing Buddha, and six other gods, huge, ornate, vivid - each one stamping their feet. People kneel and pray, monks stroll about, and there is fresh fruit on the altar. I take no photos. In a further building, the walls are covered with hundreds of statues, looking like something from Dante.

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I left writing about cycling in the city until I got home safely. Descent was fun - no good brakes, and roving pedestrians meant the front blocks were down to a sliver by the bottom. Cycling in traffic was far simpler than expected. Drivers (cars and scooters) use their horn frequently, but only to warn of their oncoming presence (like a cyclist's bell) rather than in anger ,frustration or threat. I could weave easily, overtaking some over-laden scooters. One lady was transporting a bed! Mattress and all! On the back of a moped! Astounding.

Exhilarating to be back on a bike. Fuck trains, cycling's the way to see the world. But I need a bike with the saddle at the right height.


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Roche won a stage of the Tour of Beijing! Deignan second - super!

Wednesday 5 October 2011

Day 35 - Chengdu-Kunming train

Took two immodium last night before sleeping, terrified the hotpot would hit me at a bad time. Say goodbye to the others, taxi to the train. Carriage seems quiet. Had a clear out as soon as the train started moving. Incredibly cathartic. Now to Kunming!

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Cǎo ní mǎ [Tsao nee maah] - Chinese for "fuck your mother"

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"Yoghurt explosion" and "bed pollution" will forever make me giggle.

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Have noticed the lack of graveyards in China and Mongolia, also Russia. Saw a few small plots of steles (maybe 15m2) from the train window. Are Buddhists cremated?

Makes me think that the acres of graves at home are wasteful. Monuments to those that are gone, a sign of love and respect. In the Mongolian ger tents, they have a shrine to dead relatives, for private reverence. Perhaps this is better? But then we would be missing O'Connell's tower, Parnell's rock, Grandaddy's grave - nice for a visit and a prayer, so maybe one wouldn't want a constant reminder of the loss in the home. Or is it a constant reminder of the memory? The life.

Poor L. Hope her dad will be okay.

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As I've come further east on my journey, one of the things that's noticeably worsened has been the traffic and ability of drivers. In SPB and Moscow, drivers often sped down the main drags. In Irkutsk, Sergei would protect us while we crossed the road. By UB, traffic lights had become only a guide line. The group was often split when some didn't make it across the road. In Beijing, the bicycles were everywhere, haphazardly using road, cycle lane and path, rarely with lights. In Xi'an, zebra crossings were negotiated one lane at a time.

One thing has been consistent: the taxi drivers are all lunatics. In UB and Chengdu we witnessed it from the passenger seat. But it must be a universal truth.

I've been warned that Vietnam will be even worse.

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Chinese countryside rolling  by again. Small homesteads, allotments, corn. First solo leg of my journey, Chengdu to Kunming. I'd be more prepared for it tomorrow, but it has been foisted on me today. First pang of loneliness while shopping for one yesterday. Might try Skype home once I'm in Kunming hostel. Will take a day or two to recuperate, do laundry, get my visa for Vietnam, send a few emails and hopefully back things up online. Then on to Lao Cai and Sapa as quickly as possible.

Travelling alone is odd after a month of company. There's nobody to share experiences with. Is there a point to solitary joy? Yes, but I wonder how long I can be asocial for. Half the point of this journal is to share my experiences with others and future me.

Shower goodbyes to Dom and Kelly this morning. Almost perfunctory, formal. A hug and a handshake, "enjoy your travels", and then gone. What else is there to do, to say? Is it ever really goodbye when there's email, Facebook?

Missed Andy and Jake. Group goodbye for Seb & Nicci, Ali & Scott on a train. Only half of Team Swiss. Motleys in the morning, Brigitte at 5am.

No. Goodbyes of these magnitudes are never easy. Keep it short and sincere.

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Paddy fields! First sighting of the trip! Makes a change from corn. Lots of vegetables too - green and lush looking. Simple life out here no doubt. Everything is relatively cheap compared to home, but I wonder what the standard of life is like for the natives. So far I've spent most of my time in cities, where everyone has the trappings of wealth, like mobile phones. Only in UB was poverty really thrust in our faces - neglected children roaming the streets.

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The Chinese drive like Dubliners cycle.

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Gambai - Chinese toast, means 'empty glass'
Ne hau peow liang - you are very pretty

Thursday 22 September 2011

Day 22 - UB-Beijing train

On the train again, leaving UB, headed for Beijing. Border crossing and bogey change due tonight.

Last full day in the ger camp, we visited a local nomad farmer. He had two yurts, a curious mix of old and new - a satellite dish and fridge, powered by solar energy, while dairy produce dried out on the roof, covered in flies. They seemed roomy enough, but his existence probably isn't easy. There were some leftover presents in the bag in the corner, with a 'True Blue Aussie' flag protruding from the top.





In the afternoon we tried some Mongolian archery and learned how to play a game with sheep knuckles. Each side of the bone represents an animal - sheep, goat, horse and camel.




WINNARS!


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In a fascinating and baffling move, there are some Japanese landscapers installing a waterfall feature here. Very friendly fellow in charge, enjoying his job.


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We returned to UB the following morning, and half the city was obscured by smog. The traffic was pretty heavy, and we witness some crazy overtaking manoeuvres. Nothing compared to our taxi ride later that evening - our drive invented extra lanes at any opportunity. At one point, on a regular two way road, which already had two lanes of traffic going our way (not moving), he decided to drive the wrong way down the opposite side of the road. That's when we got out.


I thought Russian driving was bad, but the Mongolians are far worse. Crossing the street is a game of life and death and willpower. The cars do seem to stop when necessary, but the pedestrian cannot show a moment's hesitation. I think it might be part of the UB experience, to lead a road crossing.

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Went on a walk with Lukas on our last morning in the ger camp. Underestimated it a bit, but got back in time for breakfast.

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Went for lunch yesterday in Café Amsterdam. Dawa chose it, but it was an obvious Lonely Planet destination, full of English-speaking travellers. It was a glimpse into the future for me. There is a 'look' to everyone - a kind of semi-cool aloofness. I think I'll try avoid LP-recommended places where possible.

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After that was a trip to the National History Museum. Everything was in English, which was superb, and it filled in lots of gaps in my knowledge of the history of Mongolia. It got a bit propaganda-ish toward the end. The communist takeover of 1921 is still called the Great Democratic Revolution.

Tar éis sin, half the group went shopping, and the other half of us went to see a monument atop a hill on the outskirts of the city. Celebrating the Mongolian-Russian relationship, the views of the city were excellent.

One could really see that UB is on the cusp of an economic boom. One modern glass building has been completed, and several apartment blocks are nearly so. There was even plans for a hotel right underneath the monument. Progress, I guess.





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Step count at the war memorial:
Dom - 644
Kim - 607
Me - 615



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Werewolves and Farmers, as played by Lukas, Regine and Brigitte
Cards are dealt - 4 Kings for 4 werewolves, 1 Queen for the witch, 1 Jack for the hunter, and clubs for farmers.

First night: all close eyes, werewolves open to find each other. Gamesmaster takes note of them, and witch, and hunter.

First day: all vote to kill one person, hopefully a werewolf. If tied, all vote again just for tied people.

Second night: all close eyes. Werewolves open eyes, and agree on a target to kill.

Repeat day and night until all werewolves are killed, or the werewolves have a majority.

Each night, after werewolves have selected their target, the witch may use her good or bad essence. Good will save the werewolves' target, bad will kill one person of the witch's choice.

If the hunter is killed, they will shoot another person, so both die.

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Mongolian countryside is really flat scrubland, beige and brown. The sky is inevitably clear and blue. All in all, beautiful.

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Passing through the Gobi. Just stopped in Sainshand, and walked the length of the train. Don't seem to be any Chinese people on the train bar the attendants. Might even have another Irish guy.




Long shadows in the Gobi

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http://domcheeseman.blogspot.ie/2011/09/sidenote_21.html
http://domcheeseman.blogspot.ie/2011/10/day-112-ulaanbaatar.html