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Published: April 21st 2009
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Vik's account:
And if you know you're history, it's enough to make your heart go wohohohoh...Tell me ma, me ma, we don't want know tea, no tea, we're going to Wembley...!!! We tried to spot you on the tele Ian, Steve was certain you would have backcombed your hair and dyed it black for the occassion!! Maybe for the final?? Anyway...
We continued to plunge southward through Vietnam via, what turned out to be, a very well worn trail. The slender shape of the country creates the perfect channel for the belt of tourists and by the time we left it had almost become embarrassing as we bumped into the same people at every destination! It felt that the heart of the country was always just beyond our grasp, somewhere away from the traveller hotspots that we were inevitably sucked into. They were ''hotspots'' for a reason though, and we got to see many a fine building, enjoy the delights of such things as coconut candy & noodle-making, oodles of splendid boat rides and eating our own body weight in seafood platters.
And then some respite from the cities on the island of Phu Quoc. Steve finally got to live the
tea time
Spoilt for choice dream...and we hired a motorbike. The general road chaos - and concern that we may not be put back together again should anything go array - had thus far proved a convincing response every time Steve had suggested this form of transport, but the quiet of the island roads finally overcame my caution. Of course, no sooner had we mounted our steed and some clown pulled straight out in front of us and subsequently took a tumble right off his bike. He (thankfully) bounced straight back up again, and the rest of our expedition passed without drama. I even managed a bit of driving (or do you call it riding?!), the only problem being that I had no idea how to do anything except drive straight (which was fine for a while, but as I had set off solo I had to turn around at some point to collect Steve. Not the best U-turn ever accomplished). Our exploration of the island also again brought sharply into focus the remnants of the impact of the American War as we stumbled upon a scene of activity which turned out to be the unearthing of a mass grave.
And then onto Cambodia, a
country also having emerged from a period of darkness. We took the 'slow boat' up the Mekong (which sounded romantic. It wasn't. Just lengthy.) and stepped foot into Cambodia on a dodgy wooden plank that looked like it had seen much better days. And then a minibus into the capital, with Jennifer Rush blasting out from the stereo. Luckily, the dutch fella behind us (who had enjoyed one or two Angkors on the boat) decided it was just the right time to embrace the karaoke culture. The journey felt all the more swift!!
Steve's bit
We were finally spat out of the tourist funnel at Saigon (HCMC/ Ho Chi Minh City). We arrived in the dark to be greeted by vast arrays of neon signs, busy streets, posh shops and restaurants. Our coach dropped us in the traveller zone next to the aptly named minihotel street, which at nighttime appeared very seedy. The streets and roads of Saigon felt modern and western with wide tree lined boulevards, and familiar looking fastfood outlets (KFC & fake Mcd/bk). The large communist posters and uncle Ho pictures were less noticable than the rest of Vietnam. On our way to the War museum we walked past the gates famously photographed being knocked down by tanks during the fall of Saigon, their symbolism now a tourist photo op. The War museum was a moving indictment of the atrocities of war.
The journey through the Mekong contained the classic bad bus driving, after running someone over and smashing into a truck we were very relieved to get off, even if we then discovered it had dropped us 12km from our exit port! Two motorbike taxis (Viks driver thought he was Barry Sheene, mine was more of a plodder) later we, well Vik then me half an hour later, arrived.
Phou Quoc proved to be another island get away, vast stretches of undeveloped beaches, and a seemingly untouched jungle heart. The roads were mostly just red dust tracks, which coloured our clothes and skin whenever we used them(not a great look when you took your sunglasses off, a big red face with two big white eyes). The sea was like a warm welcoming bath until the jelly fish struck! Then it was much less friendly...infact pretty stingy. Most beaches had the standard overhanging Coconut palms and fishermans huts. The now ubiquitous hammock seems to hang from every porch, tree and most bars... bit tricky after a few beers.
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dylan
non-member comment
hi
I have fallen off my bike. I have Found a crow.