Saigon - The end of a journey...

A pleasant flight and rather scary landing approach later, we touched down in Saigon, described as a slumbering giant with one eye firmly pointed towards development and modernisation. We got into a taxi and headed to the city centre. Now we thought that traffic was chaos in Hanoi, but it was nothing compared to the hugely hectic movement of scooters, trucks, buses and taxis we were witnessing in Vietnam’s largest city. There was a distinctively more modern feel about Saigon. Gone were the decaying buildings and rusty motorbikes. A few ultra modern skyscrapers littered the horizon, with many more being built and appearing like mushrooms on a warm humid autumn day. Country folk had traded their bicycles for scooters but still roamed the streets trying to sell their fruit and veg. Modern hotels were at every corner, with flashing welcome and “we are the best” signs. Street vendors were busy pestering tourist, trying to sell photocopied guide books, fake Zippo lighters and designer sunglasses. It was quite extraordinary to see all this activity among the scorching heat, though after lunchtime it was not uncommon to see market vendors asleep on the corner of their stall. Saigon markets were a tiring experience, as we discovered when trying to do buy Christmas souvenirs for family and friends. First they were huge, with small stalls all compactly squeezed next to each other and more than once we looked at a piece of merchandise, asked a price only to find out that we were talking with the wrong vendor! There must have been ten people per square meter densely compacted into this market. Secondly, every single one of them would pull us into their corner, saying “come into my shop, I’ve got best in Saigon and Vietnam”. Then there was the whole price negotiating component, which I must say Kiri had managed to refine to a very fine art indeed. She got us a few bargains, especially on the beautiful lacquered wood items! I must emphasize though that the experience was far more pleasant, despite the ever so stinking stench of durian fruit, than a shopping trip on Oxford Street! French colonial architecture is very present throughout the city centre. It's very easy to imagine what it was like for French "Colons" (colonials in English) as they sat at the terraces of hotel and cafe, sipping their aperitif whilst talking about the colony’s events of the day. We also visited a fair share of temples, pagodas and museums. But we were both knackered after nearly three weeks of travelling and found ourselves heading back to our air conditioned hotel room early afternoons to evade the heat and indulge in a quick cat nap. Well that was until we experienced one of Vietnam’s regular power cuts, which in this instance lasted for nearly 12 hours, depriving us of the so precious air conditioning! The amount of sweat that poured out of my forehead that day would have been sufficient to irrigate whole paddy fields! Among the more memorable museums we visited was the War Remnants Museum, which contrary to any other war or history related museum we had visited so far with they self glorifying stories of Communism beating American Imperialism displayed a very neutral point of view. Among the remnants of American or Chinese and Soviet built war machines displayed in the museum’s court, were photo galleries depicting the horrors of the French and American conflicts as well as displays of guns, rifles, grenades and other killing and maiming devices that we humans are so clever at making. A whole section was dedicated to the freelance photo-journalists that had been killed reporting the events to the rest of the world. Unsurprisingly it was American and Indochinese journalists who had perished in bigger numbers, followed by French journalists. We also learned that Korea, Japan, Australia and, to our surprise and ignorance, even teeny weenie New Zealand were part of the American coalition. The more I read facts and saw pictures, the more it became clear that America’s sad war history was very clearly repeating itself in Iraq… The futility of these conflicts was obvious for all to see. But there were also photos of hope, of damaged lives being repaired, of charity work and messages of peace. Those who know me well will verify that I have a tendency to Happy Snap when taking photos. But this is the first place where I refrained from taking pictures, as photos of tanks, unexploded bombs and landmines, shredded clothes and helmets, as well as other war paraphernalia, weren’t my idea of holiday shots. I thought it best just to keep these as very personal memories… At the end of this three and a half trip, both Kiri and I were longing for a return to modern and familiar civilisation. On the positive side, we visited a beautiful and fascinating country with its wonderful cuisine, its rich history and spectacular landscapes and architecture. On the negative side we grew tired of being constantly heckled for bike rides, tacky souvenirs and fake goods, of the often very unpleasant smells of bad sanitation, not to mention the hurtful act of always being pointed and laughed at because of our rather larger bodies… Don’t get me wrong though, we had a incredible trip and will cherish the memories of it all for the rest of our lives as well as recommend all of you reading this to visit the country but we were very glad to return to our kind of world when we got onto the plane for Singapore then to our final destination Auckland, New Zealand, where a new life chapter was about to begin…

Hue 2 - The Empire Strikes Back!

Once the initial shock of having taken the wrong train dissipated, we resigned ourselves to a second wet stay in Hue. As we walked into the same hotel we had stayed in previously, we were greeted by familiar faces, all having the same inquisitive look that said “How come you guys are back?”. After explaining what had happened, we became the talk among the staff, who giggled every time we bumped into them! “Yeah, yeah, I’d like to see you navigate the London Underground and see if you don’t take the wrong train” I thought to myself, only to realise that their English was far superior to my Vietnamese and that they’d be able to ask for help, unlike us two nit wits! To some extent it became a blessing in disguise as we hadn’t visited the Forbidden Purple Citadel, the seat of Vietnam’s 19th and early 20th century’s empire, in the first instance. After a well deserved nap and freshen up, we walked over Phu Xuan Bridge and entered the citadel through the Ngan Gate. This apparently used to be a sumptuous entrance, but the Viet Cong had turned into a reinforced bunker to ward off the Yanks. The Forbidden Citadel housed all of Vietnam’s Emperors and must have been an incredible sight in its early days. Alas, the heinous wars fought during the 20th Century only managed to disfigure what was once a beautiful piece of Vietnamese architecture. The first half of the citadel has been restored and refurbished, the bullet ridden walls plastered and the insides of the Palace has been brought back to it’s former glory. Continue behind the Palace and you’ll bump into workmen, none of them wearing safety clothing, busy hammering, soldering, sawing and so on in order to refurbish some of the satellite buildings. But the rear entrance of the Citadel and its surroundings still bear the very deep wounds of the American War. Bullet and shell holes are ever so omnipresent, building rabble and bomb craters constantly reminded us that a bitter siege took place here only 40 years ago… It was nice to see though that the authorities were doing what they could to slowly return the Citadel to its former beauty. We also strolled along what was known as the European City under the French Rule. As expected, colonial style buildings were everywhere, with the odd Communist concrete sterile looking administrative building spoiling the Boulevard. But I don’t blame the Vietnamese for trying to forget the occupation of their country by a far western country. It is said that the French ruled harshly and violently repressed any form of demonstration or revolt. But like towards the Americans now, the locals welcome French and others alike without expressing the slightest bitterness. After our bad experience with trains, we decided to give up on going to Nha Trang and its supposedly beautiful beaches and opted for the faster and hopefully safer flight from Hue to Ho Chi Minh City, better known to us and its inhabitants as Saigon. I have seen my fair share of laughable practices in airports around Europe. One of my pet hates is when people stand on conveyor belts, meant to speed up transit times between terminals, and just stop there, not walking along, preventing those in a hurry from getting to the departure gate in a timely fashion. Well in Hue’s airport we witnessed the most ridiculous transit journey ever. Hue’s airport is a tiny place, consisting of an ugly grey rectangular building and a very dull looking runway, though I guess these aren’t designed to look pretty and exciting in the first place… Anyway, we were in the departure lounge waiting for our flight when we heard the announcement for the Saigon bound plane in excellent English, which reassured us greatly as the last thing we needed was to take the wrong plane! We headed to our “gate” (there’s only one in the airport) and walking down some stairs we could see our Vietnam Airlines Airbus 320 plane, sitting on the tarmac only 15 metres or so away from the main building. But instead of walking across the tarmac, the airport staff got us to hop onto a bus! All that for the lengthy journey of 20 seconds. And because there were so many passengers waiting and that the bus could only carry 30 to 40 passengers, the whole process to transfer from gate to plane took 40 minutes, where it would have taken 5 had we walked across to the plane. But I wasn’t going to argue with airport staff, as close by soldiers with AK-47 machine guns were keeping a close eye ensuring that all us behaved!

JM

Hoi An - A sleepy fishing town

We left Hue by coach and travelled for four hours, to do the incredible distance of around 120km! Saying that we went through a few breathtaking passes in the green luscious hills, passed waterfalls and had a few near escapes when our absolutely bonkers bus driver decided to overtake other coaches and lorries in one go on the narrow mountain roads! When I saw this other truck flashing its lights at us on the opposite side of the road, my brow started profusely sweating and my heart very nearly came to a stop. A few honks and what I guess were Vietnamese swear words from the driver and we were all still very much alive, wishing for a speedy arrival at Hoi An, and not Paradise! On arrival at Hoi An, I'd never seen people get off so quickly, including ourselves, from the Mad Driver's Coach! We got to our hotel, unpacked and refreshed ourselves, to cleanse away all that Mad Coach induced sweat. Hoi An is a very sleepy and relaxed town whose rich architectural fusion of Chinese, Japanese, Vietnamese and European influences date back to the 16th century and ooze of charm and history. Its old quarters nestle on the banks of the drowsy Thu Bon River and it used to be a prominent trading post in times old. Of course all that area has now been developed into a gigantic tourist trap, with its many tailors, art and souvenir shops, hotels and restaurants but its subtle charm and relaxed atmosphere meant that we didn't mind falling into it. Again, for the foodies that we are, the fact that Hoi An's cuisine is deemed to be the best in Vietnam, with its many specialities, its fantastic use of seafood, its local micro-breweries, meant that we were going to be in Heaven! And sure it didn't disappoint. The prices for food were slightly higher than what we had paid so far, but it was worth every single penny. We were so impressed by the culinary delights that we promptly booked ourselves on a half day cooking course. What an experience that was. First we visited the market during its busiest and best time. The choice and quality of the vegetables, herbs and fruits was enchanting. The sea food was so fresh that prawns and fish still wriggled around with life in their iced trays. On the other hand, it take a will of steel to ignore some of the less enchanting smells, such as that of durian, a local fruit whose large spiky green ugly appearance goes hand in hand with its foetid smell not dissimilar to rotting flesh. But it apparently tastes divine, according to the locals... After the market, we headed to the restaurant, the Morning Glory, where the class took places. Now those of you with a filthy mind, Morning Glory doesn't refer to the sometimes embarrassing condition most men find themselves on awakening, but to the name of a water spinach... Our teacher, a charming young chef called Le, who told us that she had been cooking since the age of 10, taught us to make delights such as spring rolls, papaya salad, soups and marinated chicken skewers. We all had a good laugh and made so delicious food. Hopefully one day we'll treat some of you to those delights. Much of our time in Hoi An consisted in roaming along the tranquil river, being hassled by boat gypsies wanting money for their picture being taken, sipping cocktails by the river's bars, eating in fine but cheap restaurants, sleeping, lazing around etc. In other words it was a very relaxing part of our trip, a well needed vacation after all the last minute stresses incurred back in London with moving, shipping our stuff to NZ, saying goodbye to friends and so on. Still, we did squeeze in a cultural tour. We visited the ruins at My Son (pronounced Mee Sun) that were left by an ancient Cham empire, similar to the one that left the legendary temples at Angkor Wat in Cambodia . Now I'd like to point out that we booked the tour through our hotel. When we got picked up by the tour group, it's with terror that I noticed it was run by the same people who drove us to Hoi An from Hue. Yes, that's right, the one with the Mad Coach Driver! Well guess what, it was the same coach with the same bloody driver. Thank God we arrived in one piece again and survived the ordeal! The My Son ruins are perched in the mountains' jungle. They were rediscovered by French Archaeologists around 1900.It must have been an extraordinary place in it's prime days, but unfortunately it is now no Vietnamese Angkor Wat. The Viet Cong used it as a base and of course the Yanks bombed the crap out of it. Some ruins remain in a relatively good condition, only to be invaded by weeds and other climbing plants. But some of the other sites really bear the wounds of war and are in a sorry state... Even today, 30 years after the conflict ended, the scars are to be seen all throughout the country... Finally the time came to leave Hoi An. We headed to Danang, Vietnam's third largest city and a main transport hub. Our aim was to travel to Nha Trang, a coastal resort, half way in between Hoi An and Ho Chi Minh City (Saigon), our final destination. So at Danang's train station, tickets in hand, we boarded the train for Nha Trang. Now visualise this. You're in a foreign country, with a language that is completely alien and unlike any Latin or Greek based language. You get to a station and show the tickets to a platform attendant who waves towards a platform. You wait for the train and climb into it, get your seats, and enjoy the scenery all the way to your destination. Well we experienced most of that, apart from getting to our destination... Ten minutes into the journey, the guard came along to control our tickets... Lo! All the sudden all hell broke loose. He was frantically pointing in the opposite direction to which we were heading. "No English" he was saying, whilst I was saying "No Vietnamese"! Finally it fell on me like a thousand rocks. We were on the wrong bloody train! The guard grabbed my arm, inviting me to follow him... Remember that this guy didn't speak a word of English, neither French when I tried. He opened the door at the end of the carriage and pointed to the rails... Did he want me to jump!? I mean the train was going very very slowly, but still, jumping from a moving train, with a 20kg rucksack on my bag was not my idea of fun! And even less Kiri's! Luckily a young Vietnamese woman spoke good enough English and we all decided to stay and get off at the next stop... Which happened to be Hue! So we ended up backtracking! And four hours later, after seeing some of the most beautiful coastal scenery from the window of our excruciatingly slow train, we got back to the old Imperial City and its drenching rains!

Hue - A very wet Imperial City

So after our "little" train trek, we got to Hue. Now as we stepped off the train, we were greeted by some rain, nothing that hardened veterans of English weather couldn't cope with. One thing you notice when roaming around Hue and its souvenir shops and restaurants is the constant though discreet smells of dampness and sewers. Our guide book pointed out that a lot of visitors leave Hue earlier because of the bad weather. But we thought that a little bit of sky water wasn't going to deter us from visiting the many historical sites scattered in and around the city. Unfortunately we were right in the middle of the wet season, as we discovered on our first morning when it had rained heavily non stop all night and the streets were flooded up to knee level! But we didn't let a bit of water hinder our visit and waded quite happily with the locals, as it didn't seem to bother them one bit and life continued as normal. Hue is also known for its Imperial Cuisine, an apparently more refined form of Vietnamese cuisine. So for the foodies that we are, the prospect of dinning in Imperial eateries was very exciting. One of the restaurants we went to, called Lac Thien, is run by a family of deaf and mute! Their food was fantastic and the owner offered us a wooden bottle opener, on the condition that we post him photos using it in different parts of the world. I guess it was their way of travelling. Compared to Hanoi, we noticed a far more relaxed atmosphere quite different to the frenzy experienced before. Roads are safer to cross, though you still have to look the driver in the eyes, less beeps and honks and less crowds saturating the pavements. It had a far more provincial feel and unfortunately came with the undesired side-effect of being constantly pointed and giggled at due to our rather large western frame... But we kept our heads high and for the few ruder men we replied by wriggling our little fingers alluding that their manly hood wasn't stuff of legends... As mentioned earlier, Hue is where Vietnam's Emperors were seated, though they were mere puppets of the occupying French regime. Nevertheless a Forbidden Purple Citadel had been built right on the banks of the Perfume river, so called as just before the wet season starts, flowers similar to water lilies open up and apparently release a rather sweet smell. Alas it wasn't for us to discover the delightful fragrance, being subjected instead to the rather less pleasant one of post inundation raw sewage. We didn't visit the citadel, at least this time, but unknown to us then, we were to unexpectedly return to Hue a week later, but this is a different story... We participated in one of the most thrilling guided tours we've ever done. We saw amazing imperial mausoleums, pagodas with chanting and praying Buddhist monks and witnessed some fascinating aspects of country life Vietnamese style outside Hue. We felt the wind in our hair, smelt the odours of country life, good and bad as well as experienced the whole tour in wonderful surround sound. How, you ask, did we experience such things sat in an air conditioned tour bus... Well actually we weren't on a bus tour, but chose after careful consideration to join a scooter guided tour. At first when I heard about it I was rather reticent, having seen the fondness of Vietnamese bikers for not wearing any helmets. But after reading so many positive reviews from westerners we gave our $7 to Misses Thu, the organizer, for the tour and "wow!" was the only word I could say when the tour ended. It was worth every single penny, or cent, of it. And best of all the drivers we sat behind were very safe and made us all, including themselves, wear helmets! Some of the noteworthy place we visited were the Thien Mu and Tu Hieu Pagodas (Buddhist temples) and Tu Duc's Mausoleums. Thien Mu is home to 40 or so monks, the oldest being 96 whilst the youngest apprentice is 7! An orphan adopted by the monks. The Pagoda is more known for its symbol of resistance against the 60's southern government, puppet to the USA. President Diem's regime was staunchly catholic and opposed and persecuted Buddhists... As a protest and to make the world aware, the Venerable Thich Quang Duc, one of the Pagoda's monks, travelled to Saigon, doused himself in petrol and set himself alight in front of parliament, whilst remaining still in the lotus position. The photo taken has become one of the famous pictures relating to the Vietnam War, or the American War as they call it rightly so here. Among the beautiful buildings that make up the Pagoda, one houses the car, a blue Austin, which was used by the monk to travel to Saigon. Moreover they keep his heart in a jar somewhere on the grounds... We also went Tu Hieu Pagoda, in the country, and sat in the temple whilst listening to monks chanting. It was most hypnotic and the fact that it was a misty day added to the enchanting spectacle. Tu Duc's mausoleum is where this emperor is buried. It also served him when he was alive as a retreat from the Forbidden Purple City. Not only did he enjoy writing poetry among the beautiful forest, he also entertained no less that 123 concubines, who were all housed there too! The reason he had so many is that he never fathered any heir, blaming every time his newest conquest. Something tells me than the problem didn't lie with the women though! Despite the wet weather, Hue provided us with some fascinating insight into Vietnamese life and food and... water! Next a bus trip to Hoi An, a small fishing town that his renowned for its fantastic cuisine (again, it's all about food with me!). JM

Hanoi to Hue - A bumpy train ride

Our next destination on Vietnam's Map was Hue, ancient capital of Vietnam's Imperial times. We booked ourselves a sleeping berth on the Reunification Express Train, which does Hanoi to Saigon following most of Vietnam's Coast. Now they call it Express, but there’s as much speed in these trains as a sloth on a very hot day. It takes no less than 36 hours to do the journey in one go... And that's for the faster "modern" trains... Our journey to from Hanoi to Hue was going to take the best part of 12 hours, so a sleeper it had to be. We shared the 4 bedded compartment with a friendly French couple who had left France 3 months earlier and travelled to Vietnam by train only, through Europe, Russia, Mongolia and China. Now that's some journey! They were obviously veterans when it came to using sleepers. They kindly offered us some Da Lat wine, which is the wine producing region of southern Vietnam. I was very curious to what the wine would taste like. Vietnamese cuisine is rather good so I hoped I'd be in a treat for the, hopefully, sleep inducing beverage... Being in the presence of a French couple, I thought I'd show off my French heritage and proceeding into doing some proper wine tasting. A swirl in a plastic glass to release the aromas, a sniff to detect fruits or other wine related smells, a sip, a swig around the mouth and finally breathing in air through my pursed lips... Jesus! The drink was an abomination. It smelled of grape juice mixed with sewer water and cheap alcohol. And it taste sour and quite simply revolting. And to that the French couple added: "This is much nicer than the one we had yesterday!" Yuk! So no wine for me, therefore no sleep aid for the noisy train... Then came the dreaded visit to the loo... The smell emanating from the toilet was similar to the Da Lat wine, only ten times worse in strength! But one's nature call was too strong and soon all smells hellish mingled together causing a saturation effect that eventually made me immune to it all. Poor Kiri was waiting for her turn outside and by judging the expression on her face, she wasn't looking forward to the experience either! Eventually we settled in our berths, inserted ear plugs, and drifter off to a peaceful and restful sleep... If only! I was woken up God knows haw many times by these rather scary jolts that the Train produced when slowing down. It seemed that at every station stop, these jolts would manifest themselves like the right hook given by Mohamed Ali! So needless to say that I didn't sleep to well and was a rather grumpy man when getting out of "bed" at 5.30am! But for the rest of the journey we were treated to some very scenic coastal and mountain landscapes which made up for the lack of sleep. It was very tired though that we arrived at 11am in Hue greeted by torrential rainy... JM

Ha Long Bay - World's 8th Wonder

We booked ourselves a two day tour of Ha Long Bay on the 3rd December. We hopped onto our tour bus at Hanoi and headed for a four hour journey east. En route Kiri pointed out on several occasions restaurants along the road that has signs with pictures of dogs or cats... I sincerely hoped that our guide, Thui, hadn't planned a lunch stop at any of those! In the meantime he kindly told us about the programme and gave us some very interesting facts about Ha Long Bay! Legend says that a celestial dragon and her army of children were sent by the Emperor to stop an invasion by spitting out pearls that formed islands and razor sharp mountains in the path of enemy boats... After their victory, the Dragons decided to stay on and lived among the limestone islands scattered around the bay. Hence the name of Ha Long: "Descending Dragons". Some people today still claim that sea monsters and other mythical creatures roam around these islands! So needless to say that I got very excited at the prospect of snapping a few sea dragons with my camera and obtain wealth and fame from selling my pictures to some British Tabloid! On arrival the weather was misty and warm, an ideal environment for dragons to hide, well at least that's what I thought... We boarded a boat, more precisely a junk. It was going to be our home for the next two days. We were in for a treat! The bay lived up to its reputation. Though the light fog was consistently present, it added a certain air of mystery to the experience. The limestone formations were spectacular and looked like boat sails, or maybe roofs for dragon houses! Enough about bloody dragons I say! So we sailed along with many other junks, on which many other tourists were being pampered by their respective crews. The departure from the harbour was not dissimilar to Vietnam's road traffic! The junks were all racing like mad, blowing their horns at each other, narrowly avoid hitting the smaller fishing barges that were scattered randomly around the bay. I did very early on spot the emplacement of boat's life jackets! At lunch, on the boat, we were served wonderful food including some of the strangest prawns I've ever seen. The crew called them grasshopper shrimps, but they looked more like praying mantis to me and tasted rather good, more like lobster than prawn. We docked onto a small island, got of the boat and made our way to a place called Hang Sung Sot, also called the Amazing Cave. It was a comprised of three chambers and made up a huge complex of caves. Rocks, stalagmites and stalactites invariably resembled creatures, deities such as a Laughing Buddha, some giant turtle and one formation in particular was popular with local ladies... A rather huge pink phallic looking stalagmite that apparently had the property of making women very fertile upon rubbing it! You can imagine, there were many giggles echoing in the Cave! After that we headed back to the junk, chilled out until dinner and we got served another fantastic fest of sea food wonders, all flavoured with ginger, garlic, chillies, lemon grass and so on! Divine! And add to that the sound of the sea and the misty limestone mountains and one understands where Ha Long Bay is dubbed the eight wonder in the world. After dinner and a few beers, we headed to our cabin and the gently rocking of the boat send us quickly to sleep. The next day was a bit of an anti-climax. First we headed back to shore sooner that what we had anticipated, had lunch in a tacky hotel rather than the boat and finally I was struck by Deli Belly Syndrome, and found myself running to the loo a few times and reaching out for the Immodium! Bit having been 5 days in Vietnam, I was surprised it hadn't hit me earlier! Such is life and I had to look forward to a night train journey from Hanoi to Hue with a dodgy tummy... To be continued... JM

Life in Hanoi

After safely arriving at our hotel, we bravely decided to step out into the streets of Hanoi's Old Quarters, where we were based. It was dark already and the small narrow badly lit were not what had been envisaged as our first outing experience. But the place was heaving with activity. Street kitchen were set up everywhere, random stalls were selling everything from tacky souvenirs to shoes to imitation clothing and bags. A night market was taking place in the main artery of the Old Quarters and it would seem it was a big event for the Hanoi populace. We were both starving but we hadn't quite gathered the courage to eat at one of the makeshift street kitchens, also called the People's kitchens. Locals gather around a few women with pots and pans as simple meals are produced at great speed. No chairs or tables, just pint size stools on the pavement for the luxury ones, otherwise it's squatting down onto the ground. So we cowardly found a very tourist trap like affair with pictures and English on the menu! Still it was a decent feed, and relatively cheap, especially compared to London. The next couple of days involved going on guided tours of the city, visiting Ho Chi Minh's Mausoleum, Pagoda's and other museums as well as roaming around the streets of the Old Quarters and the French quarters, with its distinctive colonial influence, in order to get slowly accustomed to Vietnam's Capital. We saw the famous Water Puppets, a truly magical spectacle of traditional Vietnamese folk art, though it was worth noting that there wasn't one Vietnamese person as most of them couldn't afford the inflated tourist ticket prices. Sad really. At every corner there are street hawkers, trying to sell postcards, chewing gum and other useless junk. They are often accompanied by drivers of diverse vehicles, motorised and not, offering to whiz you off for an hour tour of the city. It is a strange way of life there. Everything seems chaotic but there's was certain relaxed atmosphere about it all. Scooters buzz along at a leisurely pace, people sit in groups around shops and other outlets and chat about their daily events over cups of coffee and bowls of noodle soup. We discovered one of Vietnam's unique experiences: road crossing. Anything that has wheels on the road is not obliged to obey our familiar rules regarding zebra crossings. In Vietnam, one just has to walk across the road without hesitating whilst looking the drivers in the eyes. So far so good, we have followed the local custom and it seems to work quite well. Scooters and other vehicles just swerve passed you as you hop along! Remember that vehicles move at a rather leisurely pace here. It's far less dangerous than it sounds! Hanoi on the whole is an interesting place, but I can't say that I thoroughly enjoyed it. Kiri expressed the same feelings and we were both happy that we'd stayed only three nights there. JM

Arrival in Hanoi - Vietnam

One can never quite prepare themselves when arriving into a new country. I had pre-envisioned Hanoi according to what pictures and writings I had found in my guide book. But the real thing was quite different. We landed safe and sound and proceeded to Immigration. I had visions of Communist like soldiers coldly glancing at me, my passport, me again and saying that my Visa was not in order... But to my surprise, the Immigration officer was smiling and said "Welcome to Vietnam". He was, by the way, wearing a very communist like uniform, with red star and all, but his smiles warmed the dull colour of his uniform. We got our luggage of a huge conveyor belt and proceeded to meet the taxi driver our hotel had sent. To my relief he was there waving a sign saying Mr Burgess, The Ritz Hotel. On leaving the relative familiarity of the airport, we took our first steps onto "proper" Vietnamese soil. We barely could see where our driver's car was as the air was saturated with a constant mist or fog. We hopped into the car, whilst trying to engage conversation with our driver. Unfortunately he spoke very little English and we had no choice but to follow him. I hoped he was the right guy for the right hotel, as I had read about drivers taking you to a different hotel and cashing in a commission after using the old ruse of "your hotel closed last week, this one is better...". After looking frantically for non existing seat belts, we ventured onto the Highway to Hanoi. Now I had heard about Vietnam's chaotic traffic, but nothing in the world prepared us for our driving experience. It seemed they were hardly any rules, with motorbikes and any other vehicle overtaking on both sides of the car, the horn being used as a surrogate indicator, doing U turns on the highway. And one can only be overwhelmed by the number of scooters on the roads. Not to mention the fact that some had up to four, yes you read right, four passengers on these tiny mopeds! Needless to say were we relieved when we got into one piece at the hotel, which was thank God the right one. JM

First taste of South East Asia

Well here we go, I've managed to find myself a computer modern enough in Vietnam to start writing our travel blog. First stop was Singapore, on the 28/11/07, for a couple of days. It's said that Singapore is the place to start in order to ease oneself into SE Asia culture. I'm uncertain what to make of that City/Country. It's a fusion of traditional Asia temples and Pagodas mixed with some colonial architecture and hyper modern skyscrapers. The place was not dissimilar to an ants' nest! Everything was very regimented and organized. The streets were pristine, the traffic flowed like in a dream, the people queued and walked in an organised manner... Very interesting if slightly surreal. The food was to die for, catering for tastes from around the world. Everything was there from Chinese to Indian to French to Argentinian... And of course it's also know as the shopper's paradise. There are shopping malls everywhere. I mean you can't walk along for more than 50 meters without encountering huge shopping malls! Not my cup of tea but Kiri’s eyes were wide open with envy when approaching all those designer and jewellery stores! We stayed in a 5 star hotel called the Swissotel The Stamford. Very posh one must say. It was only within our reach thanks to a promotion by Singapore Airlines with whom we were flying. We presided over Singapore from the 54th floor of this hotel, the tallest (so far) building on the Island. Needless to say that though one could become accustomed to such luxury, our wallets won't stretch for anything like that again any time soon! We ventured onto the Night Safari, where you are whizzed away on a tram to spy on the zoo's animals nocturnal activities. It was all very well done but our guide insisted on speaking or should I say whispering with the perviest of voices... Freaky quite honestly. Finally we headed back to Changi Airport for our plane to Hanoi. Like the city the airport was very well organised. Actually I'll even dare say that it was a rather pleasant experience transiting through that airport. So much more civilised than Heathrow or Stansted! JM

Save The Date ecards

Well the wedding is still planning itself slowly but surely. We've got venues booked, caterers sorted, a celebrant chosen and provisionally a DJ, though from the description we've had from Kiri's mum he sounds a tad dated and cheesy... Anyway I have spent most of my Sunday designing theses Save The Date cards that we'll be sending out to those lucky invited ones.

Jean-Mi

When Froggy became a Kiwi

I'm so excited! Whilst sitting on the couch, I heard the letter box open. The familiar sound of mail dropping onto the floor shifting my attention from morning TV. A letter addressed to Mr Jean Burgess (why can't people get my name right!?) caught my eye as it was stamped with NZ Immigration... Indeed I had applied for Residency through sponsorship from Kiri. What was in the letter I wondered... An appointment from the Visa Officer to grill me about my application? A letter of refusal stating that they're worried about my French ancestry and bar me from getting anywhere near of Auckland Harbour and Rainbow coloured boats... No, none of that! It was to say that in principle I have been accepted as a Kiwi Resident! Yay, as they say! We're both very excited. One step closer to the Big Move.

Jean-Michel

Save The Date 29.03.08

Well we have started the countdown and set the date, even got a couple of venues booked. So the date is 29.03.08 in Te Kuiti, NewZealand. Put it in your diaries, actually this is part of the reason why we have started the blog to keep every one up to date with the plans. Hopefully for those that are travelling long distances we can give some advice and links on how, when and where in NZ to make your travel plans a bit easier and give some inspiration. For those that are a bit more local, please give some comments as I'm sure all local advice is appreciated.

Kiri

First words in our Blog

Thought we'd share with our friends and families stuff that matters to us. The past, present and future of us together.