Easy riding

The Big Thing in Vietnam is to jump on the back of a motorbike driven by a self-styled Easy Rider and take to the hills for days on end to see the countryside and people. Unfortunately, a slight altercation with a condescending and charmless old biker put me off this idea completely. Need and opportunity collided, however, and Dan and I found that we could mountain bike from Dalat to Nha Trang in a day, fully supported with a van behind us to offer us cold water and bananas, and scrape us off the side of the road should a wayward truck decide to use both lanes. Our hotel receptionist nonchalently booked this for us, giving nothing away of what lay ahead of us.

What lay ahead of us, as it turns out, was officially one of the top two rides in Vietnam, as determined by Jamie, a long-distance cyclist from Frisco we met on the way. See http://jamieinasia0809.blogspot.com/ for his blog. After a few key hauling ass up through pine forests we were rewarded with a 30km (Jamie will correct me) brake-burning descent, dropping over 1000m on a brand new, but inexplicably empty road through Vietnam's stunning Southern Highlands. The pictures we took cannot do justice to the majesty of the road, and we whooped and screamed like little girls as we tucked our heads into our handlebars to increase our speed (or at least I did). Even the 15km up and down in 35 degree heat after lunch, and subsequent killer chafing, couldn't dent our enthusiasm for this unbelievable ride. If you're within 200 miles of Dalat, you HAVE to do it!

Looking up

The sky in Dalat, the major town in the Southern highlands, is a slight new obsession. The light at 5,000ft is naturally clearer and bluer than anywhere else in I've been to in Vietnam, and the town is perched on a plateau, giving remarkable vistas in every direction.

It is a lovely antidote to the tourist mayhem in Nha Trang, and from wandering around the streets it seems travellers can be numbers in dozens, rather than hundreds. Dan has arrived, pale from a crappy London winter, and my task for the next 10 days is to baptise him in the ways of Vietnam, and get him some damn sun!

More money matters

The expats here in Nha Trang tell you that Vietnamese will cheat you today because they don't think about tomorrow. The locals see only $ signs on your forehead, they say. And these are the foreigners that speak the lingo and still love the place! I can't say my experience goes any way to disproving this view. Water that is 7,000 Dong at the local shop is 8,000 the next day, despite me passing the shop and saying hello to the keeper 5 times a day. Hold out 15,000 Dong while ordering food from a street vendor and, hey presto, the price coincidentally becomes 15,000 - 50% more than the going rate. What's more, the margin of the swindles varies hugely: the real price could be 70% or 7% of the asking price.

While it keeps you on your toes, and gets you to think about the true value of things, only some people (like my ballsy New Yorker companion) have the stomach for a fight in every encounter. For me that's too tiring, and I've reached the point where I just take the rough with the smooth. Sometimes you'll be grievously ripped off. You might catch one or two at their game and get a "discount". You might even find a cafe where reasonable Pho is the same price every day and seems to bear a resemblance to what the locals pay. But you'll never win. The Vietnamese are diligent entrepreneurs when it comes to parting you with your cash. Better to roll with the punches, and seek as much non-financial interaction with locals as possible to balance it all out.

When in Vietnam...

Vietnamese are great snackers, and nearly every street corner has a stall selling something, usually delicious, for next to nothing. Whether it's steamed corn on the cob with a sweet and salty sauce, to whole lobster grilled in a pan by the side of the road, it's almost impossible to go hungry. Indeed you get to the point where you become a connoisseur of particular delicacies, comparing Pho Bo in Hanoi and Hue, and seeking out the best fresh spring rolls from the hundreds of vendors in every town.

A particular favourite of my travelling companions is Bun Bao, a fist-sized, mildly sweet dumpling, filled with different meats or pastes. One evening in Hoi An, craving a post-dinner something, we approached a street stall for some of the delicious balls of loveliness. In very broken Vietnamese we established that they were neither beef, nor chicken, nor pork, and that they were not vegetarian. Up for anything, and emboldened by my snake from Laos, I got one and bit into it to reveal a filling of a quail's egg surrounded by a meaty, oniony stuffing. It's strong gamey flavour revealed nothing of its genesis to me. A passing tourist wandered over and peered into my dumpling. Smiling wryly he said, "Ah yes, I've had one of those". He turned to the vendor and barked, "Woof, woof"? The local broke into a friendly but somewhat wicked smile and cried, "Yes! Woof woof"!

Halong Bay

I've been pretty lucky I think with the tours I have been on when I've been abroad. Of course everybody tries hard to get on, but sometimes you end up spending time with a group of people that gel so well that a potentially pleasant 3 days touring turns into something very special.

This was my good fortune in Halong Bay, a group of 2000 limestone karst islands in the Gulf of Tonkin. Amidst spectacular scenery and fairly luxurious accommodation, 15 people created a 3-day party which brought tears to some eyes when it ended back in Hanoi. We were led by Huang, our guide with a ring tone laugh and penchant for karaoke and palm-reading. Then there was Frank, the slightly insane Quebecoise who we spotted back in Hanoi riding a prostitute's motorbike with her on the back. At the top end of the age range was Than, a wise old Singaporese with a 25-year-old girlfriend back home. Margaret and Michael from Vancouver Island came next, an ex-hippie and an ex-teacher with bodies of pensioners and hearts of teenagers. Gerard and his wife (whose name I forget), Les Francais from Cannes talked mostly to Suzannah, a potentially quite important political journalist from Australia. Heike and Sylvia were the compulsory Germans, both residents of London, the latter almost hyperactive and the former as dry as an Arab's flip flop. Danielle and Matt, recent graduates from Grimsby, added the youth element. The North American contingent was completed by Katie from Canada and Ronnie and Jane, two ER doctors from New York and Philadephia, with whom I have now been travelling for the last 10 days.

We were a motley crew, but all positive and relaxed, each able to chat to every member of the tour at ease. Red wine and Tiger Beer help of course, as did our outgoing guide, but I can't help feeling that Buddha was feeling particularly smiley when he threw us all together.

Getting up to speed in Hanoi

It doesn't take long in Vietnam to realise the locals have a fairly flexible idea of "fixed price", "best price" and "discount for you". It seems a country that quickly finds out the inexperienced or exhausted traveller. With the wrong attitude the constant discoveries that you have paid more than your fellow hotel guests, tour party or diners might be wearing. Fortunately Hanoi is such a captivating, bustling and exotic city that it is hard for grievances to persist. The road-side food and drink is cheap (80p for noodle soup and 60p a pint), and much of the entertainment is free. Shops and market stalls are as colourful and fascinating as any I've seen, and just walking through the buddhist paraphernalia street or the live fish district could easily take up a day or two. Another favourite pasttime is the SE Asian classic of finding the more outrageous cargo you can on the back of a bike. The drive to the airport yielded a handful of great examples seen here, but my favourite was a live cow, which a travelling companion saw perched serenely on the back of a Honda. A speciality of Vietnam, though, is crossing the road. The game is to find the busiest, most chaotic stretch of road you can, and step out directly into the evening rush hour traffic and cross the road slowly as the motorcycles whizz in front and behind you, expertly making just enough space for you to pass. The only rule, make no sudden changes in direction, seems to keep you safe, and the whole experience is more fun than running the gauntlet of bicycle couriers jumping the lights in London.

So Halong!

I've had two days in Hanoi now, an unbelievable city, full of noise, colour, noise, people, and more noise. But it's fantastic to walk around and be ignored by locals going about their business - a bit of a home from home.

Off on a boat trip around Halong Bay for 3 days shortly, so I'll post more when I get back. I just have one question, has there been some snow in London or something?

Leaving Laos Famous

In two hours I leave Laos for Vietnam, promising myself it'll not be the last time I'm here. The last two days here have been the best of all. Monday was learning to ride and drive an elephant, and I am now fully versed in all the futile instructions you need to try to make an elephant do something they don't want to. Then we trekked through the jungle on them and tubed back to "camp", which was in fact a huge luxurious villa for each of us with verandah, outdoor bathroom and huge comfy beds. The next day we went up the river and kayaked 10km or so down into Luang Prabang through some fairly basic rapids, but ones which managed to throw me and my Swiss co-pilot, Nick, into the water. It could have been that we were reaching for river weed to throw at our guide that did for us. A running battle was fought all the way down the river, which we lost miserably.

About half way down I spotted a snake swimming across the river. Out guide, Tuy, spotted it too, and paddled furiously to reach it before it got to the bank. One swift bash on the back and the snake was ours. Tuy explained that this was very good luck, and good eating, and we spent the next hours shouting to anybody on the river bank in Lao "We are very lucky, we have a snake". By the time we passed our camp of the night before, an excited crowd was gathering on the river bank to inspect the snake. It seems the jungle telegraph works a treat. Or maybe it's mobile phones.

Our guide invited us to dine with him that night, with snake soup as the main part of the feast. As a guide he earns reasonable money for the area, but his house was still very modest, and it felt a real honour to be able to go to his house, meet his family, and have fresh river snake - something they probably only have a few times a year at most. The whole Tuy clan were there, wife, child, Mum, Dad, Father-in-law (who particularly enjoys his rice whisky, but not the Merlot we brought them as a gift), Mother-in-law, two dogs, and the Tuk-Tuk driver. With great ceremony the food and drink was placed in front of us, and we did our best to explain how we were very grateful for they effort and generosity.

Among all the people I've so far talked to travelling, there seems to be a concensus that the happiness and the warmness of the Lao is the most of all people in South East Asia, and this makes it a particularly easy and fun place to travel. I'm now steeling myself for the bustle and dynamism of Hanoi, which I'm not sure will be at all same same, but different.

Learning to smile

Two days ago, I realised that my face hurt. I have been smiling for nearly two weeks. It's the Lao way, and a smile is nearly always returned. It just isn't very London.

West meets East

A slightly surreal night last night. Late night ten-pin bowling, followed by staying up all night chatting and then wander across town to give the local monks alms at dawn. If it wasn't for the fact that the whole thing has turned into a bit of a ridiculous photo opp, I think I would have felt slightly sheepish at being drunk as I handed over my bananas and sticky rice!