Alas, we are back in the States. The flight was dorkily awesome. Valerie and I attempted to keep each other awake for 20+ hours so as to better adjust to jetlag when we got back. How? By to-the-second syncing the start of every single movie we watched on the plane ride home.
"Okay... ready... GO! YESSSSS."
"Awesome, now I won't feel weird when I'm laughing at jokes by myself."
But the fun isn't over yet. All four of us still need an excuse to relive all the fun before reality truly hits. So coming soon -- our top tens and superlatives for Thailand and Vietnam. And they're good. So yes, you SHOULD visit the blog again.
Monday, June 18, 2012
Monday, June 11, 2012
One big hot candy shop
While Brenna spent her last day in Vietnam at a fabulous spa (naturally), Verna and I headed south for Hoi An. The town is a textile capital, so we were sure to acquire additional duffels for the loot. At this point though, I'm not sure if our return flight will have adequate room in the cargo for everything we've purchased.
The streets of Ha Noi are speckled with tailors and custom shoe shops all run by women who say, "anything you want, you have!" And have we shall!
First stop: shoes, obviously. We stepped into a shop along the river and flipped through extensive catalogs of shoe styles, choosing fabrics and heel heights while shop workers fanned our sweaty, but smiling faces. (Power outage. Again.) We tweaked the designs and bargained the cost down to half of what the scrappy shop owner quoted, though I'm still pretty sure she came out on top.
We spent the evening touring the night market, refusing souvenirs and services of all kinds. The conversation we have a few times a day goes something like this: "You buy bracelet?" No "You buy bookmark?" No. "You buy chopstick!" No. Then everyone makes one last offer: "Tiger balm?" NO.
Day two (we've entirely lost track of week days at this point and instead refer to past days by either the items we purchased or foods we ate) we hit up the clothing market. This warehouse is lined with cloth shops and little old ladies sleeping underneath their pedal-powered sewing machines, waiting to lightening-sew customer orders. Once again we selected styles and fabrics, were measured, and robbed of our quickly decreasing dong wad.
We swung by another tailor shop for custom blazers before balancing our butts on mini stools at a sidewalk squatty to try a Hoi An specialty, Cao Lau.
We came across another local street food called Banh Bao, a fluffy bun of goodness stuffed with shallots, garlic, mushrooms and quail eggs. It is so delicious that we've been stalking the food carts since to feed the addiction that sets us back a mere $0.50 a pop.
Yesterday we attempted to bike to the beach in 102 degree weather, but got lost and returned to the resort for poolside coconuts. We went back for fittings (that's right, clothes and shoes turn around in 24 hours) and after all that hard work of trying on clothes, felt like this:
The beach was much easier to find today via taxi. Tomorrow we've scheduled spa treatments (don't question it) and we'll head to Ho Chi Minh City with our new wardrobes for one last night in Vietnam. It's been incredible!
The streets of Ha Noi are speckled with tailors and custom shoe shops all run by women who say, "anything you want, you have!" And have we shall!
First stop: shoes, obviously. We stepped into a shop along the river and flipped through extensive catalogs of shoe styles, choosing fabrics and heel heights while shop workers fanned our sweaty, but smiling faces. (Power outage. Again.) We tweaked the designs and bargained the cost down to half of what the scrappy shop owner quoted, though I'm still pretty sure she came out on top.
We spent the evening touring the night market, refusing souvenirs and services of all kinds. The conversation we have a few times a day goes something like this: "You buy bracelet?" No "You buy bookmark?" No. "You buy chopstick!" No. Then everyone makes one last offer: "Tiger balm?" NO.
Day two (we've entirely lost track of week days at this point and instead refer to past days by either the items we purchased or foods we ate) we hit up the clothing market. This warehouse is lined with cloth shops and little old ladies sleeping underneath their pedal-powered sewing machines, waiting to lightening-sew customer orders. Once again we selected styles and fabrics, were measured, and robbed of our quickly decreasing dong wad.
We swung by another tailor shop for custom blazers before balancing our butts on mini stools at a sidewalk squatty to try a Hoi An specialty, Cao Lau.
We came across another local street food called Banh Bao, a fluffy bun of goodness stuffed with shallots, garlic, mushrooms and quail eggs. It is so delicious that we've been stalking the food carts since to feed the addiction that sets us back a mere $0.50 a pop.
Yesterday we attempted to bike to the beach in 102 degree weather, but got lost and returned to the resort for poolside coconuts. We went back for fittings (that's right, clothes and shoes turn around in 24 hours) and after all that hard work of trying on clothes, felt like this:
The beach was much easier to find today via taxi. Tomorrow we've scheduled spa treatments (don't question it) and we'll head to Ho Chi Minh City with our new wardrobes for one last night in Vietnam. It's been incredible!
Saturday, June 9, 2012
One dollar per wish
Apparently it was "happy time" (what? They use this phrase in Vietnam a little too often) and we released lanterns on a river for good luck.
Friday, June 8, 2012
Undiscovered touching fairies
We got a frantic email from the cruise agent during our last night in Sapa informing us that the "junk" (the traditional Vietnamese cruiser) we were booked on for the next leg of the trip was due for a whitening. Apparently a law was passed a few days ago requiring all the junk in Halong Bay to be white. She put us on a new junk and suggested we meet her at a cafe the morning of, and bring the total in cash. (Side note: Vietnamese currency is about 20,000 dong to one American dollar, so often you're dealing with millions. This makes for some complicated math and scary looking bills.) We started to feel like this might be a scam (there are rumors cruise companies will scam you here) so when the cruise gal met us at a 24 hour coffee shop and asked for our zillions of dong, I was skeptical. She took the stack of cash and headed out the door to "call for the van" while we were to stay in the cafe. But after clutching my valuables all night on an overnight train and then downing a Vietnamese coffee, I was wired and NOT in the mood to be messed with. I was on that chick like coconut milk on sticky rice. I followed her to her boyfriend's motorbike, fuming, and assessing my favorable odds, as this was probably the only time I'd ever have a size advantage in a fight. Her bf gave her his cell phone (while I was awkwardly breathing down both their necks) and she made a few calls in Vietnamese (to whatever scumbag she was working for, I assumed). "The bus is coming," she said, "you wait here." I'm skeptical. "You're going to wait with us," (biatch)! And she did. And sure enough, ten minutes later the driver showed up to escort us to the cruise van. That's right. Don't eff with us.
Anyhow, the reason I'm telling you this is because the discovering and touching of fairies that were promised by the old junk were not included in the new package, so we will never know what magic we missed.
However, we did have a marvelous time on the new junk! Our seven cruise companions included a French cognac vineyard heir, an Indian restaurateur, a Russian model, a German doctor and his wife, and our new favorite travel couple, Lina and Bob. (They've been traveling the world for seven months!) Obviously this is the setup for a modern Gilligan-esque sitcom.
I cannot describe to you how incredible Halong Bay is. It's one of the seven natural wonders of the world, and looks other-worldly, like something from Lord of the Rings.
Our first excursion was to Amazing Cave, or as they say in Vietnamese, "Amaaaasing Caf." The cave is spectacular, and humongous. According to our guide, there are many reasons this cave is amaaaasing.
1. There is a stalagtite that sparkles mysteriously. Fairies? Perhaps. Amaaaaasing.
2. It has a large stalagmite shaped like junk. (And not the boat kind.) Amaaaaasing.
3. There is rock that slightly resembles a turtle. Amaaaaasing.
4. The guide suggested that the three of us pray to a heart-shaped hole so we would get boyfriends. It is amaaaasing that his junk is still in tact.
(Sunset from our parking spot in Halong Bay.)
The next day, we took a mini junk to a different part of the bay where we kayaked among the rocks. I withstood a slight injury from a run in with a reef, but the kind German doctor seems to think I'll survive after an application of his anticeptiche wundecreme.
This morning we kayaked through a small cave hole that opened into a gorgeous enclosed lagoon where all the rock climbing monkeys hang out. Bums.
Now we're back in Hanoi for Brenna's last night of the trip, and tomorrow Verna and I head south to Hoi An, where we're going to spend the rest of our dong doubling the size of our wardrobes at custom tailor shops.
Anyhow, the reason I'm telling you this is because the discovering and touching of fairies that were promised by the old junk were not included in the new package, so we will never know what magic we missed.
However, we did have a marvelous time on the new junk! Our seven cruise companions included a French cognac vineyard heir, an Indian restaurateur, a Russian model, a German doctor and his wife, and our new favorite travel couple, Lina and Bob. (They've been traveling the world for seven months!) Obviously this is the setup for a modern Gilligan-esque sitcom.
I cannot describe to you how incredible Halong Bay is. It's one of the seven natural wonders of the world, and looks other-worldly, like something from Lord of the Rings.
Our first excursion was to Amazing Cave, or as they say in Vietnamese, "Amaaaasing Caf." The cave is spectacular, and humongous. According to our guide, there are many reasons this cave is amaaaasing.
1. There is a stalagtite that sparkles mysteriously. Fairies? Perhaps. Amaaaaasing.
2. It has a large stalagmite shaped like junk. (And not the boat kind.) Amaaaaasing.
4. The guide suggested that the three of us pray to a heart-shaped hole so we would get boyfriends. It is amaaaasing that his junk is still in tact.
The next day, we took a mini junk to a different part of the bay where we kayaked among the rocks. I withstood a slight injury from a run in with a reef, but the kind German doctor seems to think I'll survive after an application of his anticeptiche wundecreme.
This morning we kayaked through a small cave hole that opened into a gorgeous enclosed lagoon where all the rock climbing monkeys hang out. Bums.
Now we're back in Hanoi for Brenna's last night of the trip, and tomorrow Verna and I head south to Hoi An, where we're going to spend the rest of our dong doubling the size of our wardrobes at custom tailor shops.
Tuesday, June 5, 2012
Hop through Sapa
At 4:50am, we arrived at the Lao Cai station and were shuttled 45 minutes to our hotel in the mountain town of Sapa. The town is surrounded by hill tribe villages whose residents make a living either by farming or by wearing tourists down with incessant conversation and selling them tribal swag. Waking up before dawn was a bitch, but watching the sun rise over mountains of terraced rice paddies was completely worth it.
In the afternoon, we hiked to "Golden Stream of Love" waterfall. Uncertain as to why the stream was golden, feet were once again sanitized afterward.
Ladies from the neighboring H'mong hill tribe villages walk to Sapa Town every day to sell their wares on the streets. Whenever a tourist exits a building, they send out a tweet informing each other of the location and you are instantly swarmed by headressed women asking, "Helloooo, what your name is?" before demanding, "you buy from me."
Our second day in Sapa was spent trekking through rice paddies to the tribal villages, with an entourage of chatty H'mong women on our heels. They followed us from town back to their village, and after winning us over with heart-shaped wands that they crafted from ferns, forced us to purchase crappy woven pouches. They're scrappy!
Our "group tour"
We wrapped up the day with a glass of H'mong-made apple wine (which has a questionable recipe and distillation process) and hopped back on the night train after a dinner of "donor kebab sandwiches." The donor is still unidentified, and we're hoping it wasn't "thit cho," as it's unlucky to eat dog during the first half of the month.
In the afternoon, we hiked to "Golden Stream of Love" waterfall. Uncertain as to why the stream was golden, feet were once again sanitized afterward.
We wrapped up the day with a glass of H'mong-made apple wine (which has a questionable recipe and distillation process) and hopped back on the night train after a dinner of "donor kebab sandwiches." The donor is still unidentified, and we're hoping it wasn't "thit cho," as it's unlucky to eat dog during the first half of the month.
Scrappy bikers
I've been known to tote some ridiculous items through San Francisco on the back of my bicycle. (a 3-in1 printer/scanner, a 28" Apple display, 4 bags of groceries.) But I have nothing on these people. Check out what Hanoians are toting on their bikes:
Flowers!
Garbage!
Family of four.
Takeout boxes.
Lumber.
Something in styrofoam. And texting while driving!
My favorite: pinwheels.
Many of the bikers here have a special biker jacket that comes with paws and a matching face mask. Naturally, I got one too. Maybe this will up my bike toting abilities in SF.
The produce department!
The bakery.
Family of five!
Many of the bikers here have a special biker jacket that comes with paws and a matching face mask. Naturally, I got one too. Maybe this will up my bike toting abilities in SF.
Bia Hoi crawl in Hanoi
Squatting with the locals was a decision none of us regret. We're thinking of bringing back some tiny plastic lawn furniture.
Squatty crawl
The sidewalks of Hanoi are speckled with miniature plastic furniture serving as seating for eateries and pubs. These places are packed with locals who come to make fun of tourists while drinking home-brewed "bia," a low alcohol, quickly fermented beer. Looking past questionable hygiene practices, we squatted with a few surly Vietnamese men at our first Bia Hoi and gulped the light brew. With an afternoon to kill and no other sightseeing planned for the day, an idea was hatched. We'd tackle the streets of the Old Quarter on a self tour of sorts, a "squatty crawl."
Saturday, June 2, 2012
Hanoi. Oh boy.
Our first day in Vietnam proved most eventful. We arrived in Hanoi in the late afternoon, and after a warm welcome (complete with fresh mango juice) at our hotel in the center of the Old Quarter, we ventered out to explore our surroundings. The phrase "hustle and bustle" does little to describe Hanoi. With the tight (signless, lightless, and lawless) streets that are shared by pedestrians, bikers, motor bikes, cars, busses, and old ladies balancing giant hobo sticks who all think they have the right-of-way, our phrase of choice is, "OHMYGOSH WE'RE GOING TO DIE."
The streets here in the Old Quarter are all named after the wares they sell, (I.e. Silk Road, Silver Road, Clear Packing Tape Road, Halloween Candy Road, etc) which is ideal for comparison shopping.
We ate dinner at a popular restaurant (with a three word name made up mostly of consonants) where we were surprised to be surrounded by so many children. Thinking we had stumbled into the Vietnamese version of TGIFridays on kids-eat-free night, we were informed by a 10 year-old chap named Simon that it was national Children's Day.
See those teeny thimbles of liquid? That, my friends, is Vietnamese sticky rice liquor. When I ordered one glass, our waiter burst into a fit of giggles ("tee tee tee tee!") and when the second round was required 45 seconds later he about lost it. Suddenly nervous that I was consuming some sort of 100% rocket fuel, we asked why he laughed. Turns out, it makes him drunk, and when he's drunk he laughs like this: "tee tee tee tee!" Lucky for us, half an ounce of rice wine has little affect on our American tolerances.
After dinner we hit up a nearby karaoke establishment in an effort to wait out a rainstorm. I'm pretty sure we were the only American customers they've ever had, and I'm positive they were live streaming our renditions of Madonna performances to all of their Facebook friends.
We slept off the rice wine thimbles and sought out the city's best Ban Mi for lunch today. We ate our delicious $1 sandwiches by the lake, wondering every so often what possible meat substances were being consumed. ("Softish meat? Squishy meat! Clear meat?")
(Brenna's post-ban mi crumbs)
We did some sightseeing at the Temple of Literature, a college founded in 1070, dedicated to Confucius. That's pretty much all we know about this site, as we were too damn hot to doddle, but we can tell you details about the decorative bonsai tree dioramas as well as the exact location of the toilets.
To cool off, we took a midday break for cocktails to celebrate Verna's birthday and followed libations with dinner of northern Vietnamese tapas.
We shopped at Metal Wearables Street on the way home, and were floored when the hotel staff brought Verna a cake and sang Happy Birthday in our room. That's service!
Tomorrow we're going to join the locals for some lakeside tai chi and sidewalk bia hoi before catching the overnight train to Sapa. Adventure never sleeps.
The streets here in the Old Quarter are all named after the wares they sell, (I.e. Silk Road, Silver Road, Clear Packing Tape Road, Halloween Candy Road, etc) which is ideal for comparison shopping.
We ate dinner at a popular restaurant (with a three word name made up mostly of consonants) where we were surprised to be surrounded by so many children. Thinking we had stumbled into the Vietnamese version of TGIFridays on kids-eat-free night, we were informed by a 10 year-old chap named Simon that it was national Children's Day.
See those teeny thimbles of liquid? That, my friends, is Vietnamese sticky rice liquor. When I ordered one glass, our waiter burst into a fit of giggles ("tee tee tee tee!") and when the second round was required 45 seconds later he about lost it. Suddenly nervous that I was consuming some sort of 100% rocket fuel, we asked why he laughed. Turns out, it makes him drunk, and when he's drunk he laughs like this: "tee tee tee tee!" Lucky for us, half an ounce of rice wine has little affect on our American tolerances.
After dinner we hit up a nearby karaoke establishment in an effort to wait out a rainstorm. I'm pretty sure we were the only American customers they've ever had, and I'm positive they were live streaming our renditions of Madonna performances to all of their Facebook friends.
We slept off the rice wine thimbles and sought out the city's best Ban Mi for lunch today. We ate our delicious $1 sandwiches by the lake, wondering every so often what possible meat substances were being consumed. ("Softish meat? Squishy meat! Clear meat?")
We did some sightseeing at the Temple of Literature, a college founded in 1070, dedicated to Confucius. That's pretty much all we know about this site, as we were too damn hot to doddle, but we can tell you details about the decorative bonsai tree dioramas as well as the exact location of the toilets.
To cool off, we took a midday break for cocktails to celebrate Verna's birthday and followed libations with dinner of northern Vietnamese tapas.
We shopped at Metal Wearables Street on the way home, and were floored when the hotel staff brought Verna a cake and sang Happy Birthday in our room. That's service!
Tomorrow we're going to join the locals for some lakeside tai chi and sidewalk bia hoi before catching the overnight train to Sapa. Adventure never sleeps.
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