Day 73 - Castaway Island

Sitting on the beach on a small island in Halong Bay. Some of the group have gone kayaking, Lee's swimming somewhere (little worried), the rest of us are relaxing on the sand. I can hear the voices of the lads playing drinking games in one of the huts. Of course, on a party tour, there'll always be some people who never stop.

Two simultaneous games of Kings last night. New rules - Stephen Hawking card, troll card, and lots of clothes swapping. Ended up in two girls' dresses and Louise's underwear.

Wasn't as messy for me as I expected. Probably because someone nicked my last three drinks. Had a couple of good conversations, especially with Whitney and Lauren, both from Oregon. Night's low point was having the Bristol lad, Daniel, tell me that I was okay, even though all Irish Catholics are c**ts. He's under the impression that we're all in the IRA, and that the Catholics 'started it'. With all the drink consumed, I thought it wisest just to leave. Was up 'til 4am, slept on deck, waking to a clear blue sky.

Beach is idyllic. Tiny, remote, sleeping in huts. Paradise.

Day 71 - NB-Hanoi train

Met Tum in the lobby yesterday morning, and jumped on the back of his scooter. Not nearly as comfortable as the Easy Riders. Because the scooter is much smaller, any little shift in my weight is amplified, and affects Tum's balance. So I must sit rigidly still, quickly growing stiff, and with a numb bum. Riding my own scooter would've been preferable. It's no fun in traffic, but the majority of our day is spent taking shortcuts along causeways in the paddyfields, or through small clusters of houses.

The fields themselves are marvels of human labour - huge irrigation systems control the flow of water, and harvesting the rice is a community effort. Here and there the rice has been spread out on one half of the road to dry.

Rice drying on the road

We arrive at Cuc Phnong park, and Tum drops me at the starting point of one of the 'treks', a 6km loop through the jungle. I amble along the path, not another soul in sight. I scare myself silly once or twice when a leaf lands on my head, or a creeper grabs at my ankle. Spider-like insects with long spindly legs scuttle across the path. At one point, grasshoppers leap off the path ahead of me as I walk, jumping into the foliage on either side of the path to create a sort of firework or fountain effect.

The walk culminates with a towering 1,000 year old tree. I pause to contemplate it, and am joined by Andy, a Watford man, who is on the same loop. We finish it together, exchanging pleasant smalltalk.

Next point of interest is a prehistoric cave, where I meet Andy again. Exploring with our headlamps, we realise the cave is massive! So big that there is a set of steep stairs /within/ the cave, but the sheer size of it is awesome.

Vietnamese guys share some rice-cake with me at lunch (some of the nicest pho I've had in the north), then I have a tour of the Endangered Primate Rescue Centre. I am taken around the enclosures with three older American men, while our pregnant guide gently explains what each species is, and how many are left in Vietnam. One species only has seventy individuals. The centre works with monkeys seized from hunters, or abandoned pets. They aim to release them into the wild, first releasing them into the semi-wild of the park to see how they adapt to freedom.

I buy some postcards, but they are hesitant to take my 100,000VND note because there is a small indent on one edge. I use it as a donation instead.

Tum offers to take me to a local fishing village, but after bumping into and chatting to Marie-Anna (the Dutch girl from the first morning in NB), I ask him to bring me to the Mua Cave instead. Here there is a set of steps to the top of one of the jutting rocks, offering a magnificent view of the surround landscape.

On one side, I can see down into Tam Coc park, where rowing boats saunter through the wetlands. The skyline is defined by a row of jagged, rocky teeth, with further rows behind protruding through the haps. It reminds me of the Terenji in Mongolia.

One the other side, the rice fields sweep toward NB. Small fires are burning where people are disposing of the rice chaff (I think). The rock formations are like brooding alien masses, dropped from the sky. Here they remind me of the mesa in the USA, single towers dominating and dwarfing everything around them. If they were in Ireland, we would say they were left by giants.

Make our way back to NB then, passing (as we have all day) a few more necropolises (necropolii?). The Vietnamese worship their ancestors, so a family is usually buried on their own land, to protect it and help it prosper. It also keeps them close while working in the ricefields, for ease of access for worship and memory.

Another aspect is that the children can't sell the land. The tomb and coffin are usually built (or bought) before the actual death, so that those who are about to die can ensure an appropriate amount of money and grandeur are used.

Met Marie-Anna for a final beer before her train to Hué, and then some Internet admin - 9,000VND for 90min = win! Turns out my visa expires early next week, so I might need an extension to visit Halong Bay.

Day 62 - [unknown]

The ethnic minorities here are like the Aborigines in Australia - butt of many jokes, source of frustration and tension for the government, and beset by many internal problems in dealing with modern life, like cheap alcohol. We saw a couple completely off their faces at 10.30am Sunday morning. Friendly individuals. Most of them wave or smile when we pass them, though many have surly expressions. They constantly carry a woven basket on their back, containing tools or the day's pickings.

***

Lashing rain this morning - hoped it was just in the clouds in the highlands, but it's persevered as far as Hoi An. First stop of the day was a Ktu tribal hall. Spencer explained how every year the tribe kill a sacrificial buffalo, and decorate the hall with its skull, meaning a large collection of skulls for this particular tribe. They kill the buffalo at short range, each man spearing it with a bamboo stake. At the accompanying celebration, children as young as one year old will get drunk.

Following the course of a swollen, muddy river, we passed a hydro-electric dam, and a high waterfall. Then a Cao Dai temple, a religion made up of (as far as I can tell) all other religions. Incredibly tolerant of each individual's belief, here you worship as you wish, as long as it doesn't disturb others. Very friendly ministers/monks, it had a warm atmosphere, fitting for such an inclusive place. Bang An cham tower was the last stop before the city. Nearly forgot - had some fresh pineapple - watching the woman cut it with a knife was a pleasure - such skill and craftsmanship.

Bang An tower

Had to say goodbye to Peter and Sinh then. Such a wonderful pair. Peter, always laughing and joking. Sinh constantly teaching us about Vietnam. They'll get the bus back to Dalat, and a well-earned rest. Met Spencer for lunch, and then farewell to him also.

Day 49 - Phnom Penh (bus)

Early morning bus to HCMC, Vietnam. Will meet Jake there, do some laundry, chill out. Hopefully end of illness. Then maybe Mui Ne, meet Brigitte. Then north.

Left the hostel at 6am, place reeking of hash again! I suppose it masks the rubbish in the alley outside. Ended up in a Cambodian guesthouse after a mix-up with our reservations at the hostel. $6 a night for a/c and a private room is okay though. Very chilled atmosphere here. Cambodia seems to have that effect on people. Rosy's was the same.

We've stayed in some stuffy spots - Royal Asia, Sant Asar, Jin Jiang Inn. Unfailingly, the staff have always been helpful and personable. The only places they weren't was at Godzilla's and in Listvyanka. And Sant Asar after we broke the mirror (then everyone chipped in to pay for it!), and the Fenghe Xi'an "IYH" for the bed pollution.

The ger camp was the most fun environment, but there'll always be a special place in my heart for the Apple hostel, and Cloudland. Such nice places. Rosy's too, but that was more upmarket.

Hostels often act as a Western enclave - insulating the traveller from the local food and people. Definitely met more Chinese people on the train than anywhere else. Any Russians were guides or from Apple. Since Bangkok it's nearly all been ex-pats.

I think I need to get away from S&N. Not that they're not good company, I just don't have much opportunity for spontaneity, nor for getting out and about with others. Haven't met any lovely girls yet, which disappoints me. Still, 4.5 months to go.

***

Random memory #1: the Milky Way stretched across the sky in Mongolia. So many stars that familiar constellations were unrecognisable.

#2: Andy being mistaken as our guide/interpreter in China, and being spoken to in rapid-fire Chinese on the bus.

***

Arrived in HCMC a little after one, walked to the hostel without much hassle. Bus was alright - ferry crossing, lunch stop in Bravet. Thor on the telly, conductor managing the border crossing. Rather pleasant!

HCMC isn't hotter than anywhere else (at least, not especially so), but it's infinitely more humid, and sweatier. Sitting down is a sweaty activity. Walking induces small rivers of sweat. Anything beyond that... well I haven't tried yet.

Pottered around the Reunification Palace, getting my Khmer and Vietnamese histories mixed up. Impressive place, lots of marble and stately furniture. Now is showering time, and recharge before dinner and beers.

Reunification Palace

Bust of Ho Chi Minh himself

After some initial scepticism, Seb decided to be a plane too!

***

A note on religion: most people in Asia seem to be Buddhists, though Paean described himself as Hindu-Buddhist. Perhaps he was identifying with Angkor Wat. Originally, the Khmer of pre-medieval times adopted the Hindu gods of Indian traders. Shiva (the destroyer), Vishnu (the protector), Ganesh. The temples of Angkor Wat and Thom were originally built to worship these. It was only from 1181 that Buddhism began to replace it. Thus the architecture and sculpture of the original buildings are all relating to Hindu legends. Later, statues of Buddha were inserted.

Hinduism and Buddhism (and Taoism and Confucianism) do not seem to be mutually exclusive at all, and aspects of each are probably observed in Cambodia today.

Across SE Asia, special treatment is still give to monks, and natives are reverent even at the most touristy of shrines and temples. Mongolia too is Buddhist, but Dawa said it's in decline there.

***

Lashing rain again now. Doesn't bother natives for the most part. most of life happens outside - shops are mostly stalls, garages and workshops are open to the street. No a/c for the majority, just grin and get on with it. very social, very... enduring? Hardy maybe. Come what may, life goes on, they'll find a way to get by.

Foot-volleyball in the park

So many mopeds!

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!

***

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

***

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

***

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.

***

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.

***

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.

***

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.

***

The Chinese drive like Dubliners cycle.

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Gambai - Chinese toast, means 'empty glass'

Ne hau peow liang - you are very pretty