Say Hello; Waves, Goodbye.
Apr. 28th, 2007 03:44 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
peterbirksUp betimes to pay hotel sundries. Caught hansom from ragamuffin to Old Town. Much dust bestirs, me thought.
Being one of those people who allows for every possible wrong contingency, I was at the Tamarind Cafe at 7am. The confirmation told us to arrive before 8am. The woman there told me that the Handspan Travel Agency did not open before 8am. So, the logical conclusion was that you had to be there at exactly 8am. Various people who appeared to have left their luggage there (the Tamarind Cafe seems to act as Cafe, travel agency and left luggage office) for collection, were beginning to panic, as their coach left at 8am, but the door couldn’t be opened until the Handspan person arrived, scheduled for 8am.
This is known as “cutting it fine”. Harrington and Challinger would have been well at home, with John saying “no worries, the girl will turn up”, while Geoff would say “what’s the worse that could happen, we would have to buy a new set of clothes, laptop, camera and I-pod. Where’s the worry?”
Hint to people who have booked any tours online. Make sure you have all your paperwork. They wanted to pay the single supplement twice. Fortunately, I had my paperwork showing that I had already paid it.
The bus to Ha Long Bay had 14 people on it, but six were catching another boat. I thought that I would be on the boat with the remaining eight, but it was not to be. One was a young guy called Andy who was spending five months or so adventuring around south-east Asia. He said that he had spent 10 days in India not meeting anyone who spoke a word of English. That, I admit, I admire.
Anyway, Andy and les autres trekked onto one boat, and I was directed to another (twin) boat. So I met a whole new set of six people (three pairs of honeymooners – great, I thought) who had booked through a different travel agent.
But, not to worry. They were pleasant people and, I guess, now that they were married, no longer in the “love’s young dream” phase, but not yet in the “we have nothing to say to each other” stage.
Lunch was a bit overloaded with wedding comparisons, but, well, that’s fair enough. And it’s nice not to have to sit amidst uncomfortable silences. Our guide, Tuang, was also nice enough. He told us about the poverty that was in the countryside back when he was young, and how his father had fought (and been captured by, and escaped from, the French), but after Dien Bien Phu he had gone back to his village and stayed there.
After a very nice lunch we hoisted the main sail, or whatever it is they do on these sailing boats, and then went on a smaller boat for a ride into an islet (really quite a weird experience) and thence to Pagoda Island, or whatever it’s called. This was Tourism Central, but the walk up to the Pagoda (425 steps) brought a brilliant view.. And it had a beach as well. Goodness, these Vietnamese think of everything.
There was a kid at the stop selling bundles of liquid refreshments. I wondered if he humped them up the steps every day. It wouldn’t surprise me if he did.
And so it was back to the boat for a discussion on when dinner was served, and for the first time the guide was a bit non-plussed. We are two Americans (Chicago), a Spaniard, an Austrian, two Burmese and me. I didn’t care when I ate, but the Americans and Austrian and Spanish wanted to eat at about nine pm, which for Vietnamese diners is verging on midnight. I think they may have compromised at 8pm. But I think Tuang our guide had assumed people would say 7pm at the latest. I’d love to know how he sold this to the chefs and waiters.....
More later.
Oh, and, yes, my cabin is air-conditioned and has (rather inconsistent power levels of) electricity. Now why can’t I get the wireless internet to work.....
More later. Oh, and I took 135 photos today.
Later:
The Tropical Sails Company has a fairly good business model when it comes to feeding us. Catch fish and squid. Cook fish and squid. Feed customers. Oh, ok, I’m being unfair. We got chicken, and beef, and pork (and, bizarrely, some french fries with ketchup as a separate tasting course – about three chips each) as well. Plus a “Honeymoon cake”, which I promptly dispatched into that well known separate stomach reserved by human beings for desserts.
I asked about the fishing villages, one of which we saw early in the day, and out guide Tuang said that there were four in the entire region. The one that we visited must see about 100 passing boats a day --- hardly an isolated lifestyle resonating of the past.
I chatted away with the Austrian/Spanish couple about property prices in London – that staple of conversation everywhere, these days. They had just turned down a move to Atlanta (Michael works for Holiday Inn) and were considering a move back to London. His wife had the standard novice’s view of the property market. She knew that London was expensive, and thought that she was prepared to compromise. Until you actually got down to where she was prepared to compromise. Area? Nope. Size of apartment? Nope? Size of debt? Nope. As usual, it came down to this vision of buying a place that was “run down” and doing it up. I gently pointed out that everyone had the same idea, which meant that the discount on run-down properties was considerably less than people thought. And doing places up was an expense in itself. Anyway, I said, just write down the various factors involved, and then decide which one it would hurt to give up the least.
Friday: Up betimes. No sunrise. No surprise. A misty morning, but no rain yet, for which God be given Thanks.
Breakfast was, for me, that universal found in hotels worldwide, or at least the closest a Vietnamese junk can get to it. I said that they should serve up Pho Ba and other Vietnamese stuff. But apparently it’s assumed that all foreigners want ham and eggs and toast and jam for breakfast, no matter where they are in the world.
The trip to the Surprise Caves was pretty impressive. Tuang told us that during the Vietnamese War the Vietcong basically pissed on the US Navy in the Tonkin region because they knew which passages between the 1,900 rocks/islets were safe and which were not. They also had caves on the top of some of them, from which they used to shoot at US bombers heading back from Hanoi. The boats, meanwhile, ducked into caves at sea-level if the US guys were getting too close.
We arrived back at about 12 noon, meaning that the bat gets a 24-hour spinaround. I met up again with Andy who had been on the other boat and we talked about the business model. Back of a cigarette calculations gave us an investment of $250,000 (on three boats), an income (profit) over the whole year of about $100,000, and an amortization life on investment of six years. So, about $60,000 a year income for the company on the three boats. Not a fortune, but not bad for Vietnam.
The coach trip back was fairly tedious. I should have spotted the opportunity on an emptyish bus (only eight of us all the way) and spread out for a sleep. Instead I took a few pictures, listened to the Citizen and read some more Cloud Atlas. A traffic jam which looked like it had been caused by a crash on another route meant that I wasn’t back at the cafe until 4pm. I had some “Zen Pasta”, in the hope that it would improve my poker. Tamarind Cafe is one of the rare vegetarian joints in Hanoi, and its Zen Pasta was pleasant enough, but hardly redolent of Asian food.
Sofitel tried to get me to take an extra half-day and a very late check-out, since my plane on Sunday is 7.10 in the evening. When I declined, they offered me a 2pm check-out for free. At the moment (Saturday night) there is lightning and thunder, although no rain and not that strong a wind. I’d planned to trek to the Presidential Palace and Ba Dinh Square either tonight or tomorrow morning. I wish the weather would make up its mind.
Ahh, just as I type, the rain begins. A good decision by Birks not to go walkies...
The Red River, just outside Hanoi. Hanoi is actually below the level of the Red River. I can’t quite work out why it doesn’t flood.
Although the tourist boats leave from here, Ha Long City is mainly an industrial port, with a million people living in the region, many of them producing coal.
The people with whom I shared the bus out get relaxed on their boat. Andy, who is a project manager for luxury cars (cool, eh?) is on the right.
This bridge only opened a few months ago. Prior to that, any journey from one side to the other was by ferry. If I had to cite a single example of the evidence of the progress being made in Vietnam, it would be this bridge. If it had been opened in Europe, it would have been front-page news. As it is, it’s in an obscure part of Vietnam of which we know nothing. If stuf like this is going on all over Vietnam, the pace of change to the level of infrastructure is little short of frightening.
As if I don’t come across enough rocks on Ultimate Bet...
The First View of the boat. Note the refreshing lack of concern about safety issues (see height of protection from sea – about knee high for me and about ankle high for some of the other guys)
There were a lot of these. I’ll just give you one.
A fishing village household.
Tea-time.
A long-distance view of the whole fishing village.
A typical Vietnamese fisherman in the area.
There are 425 steps leading to the top of this island. I climbed the fucking lot. Pictures of the result. Later.
"Splice The Main Brace, me hearties!" (Is that the right term? I'm not that au fait with all this nautical stuff).
The inside area. In fact this is only used when the weather is inclement. We ate all meals on the dining area on the deck.
We got onto a small boat to explore the lagoon (curious that we had to leave the Lagoon Explorer to explore the lagoon but, well, there you go) and this gave the opportunity to capture a picture of the boat.
No matter where you are in the world, there will aways be Japanese tourists in speedboats willing to wave at you.
What I am unsure of is whether this is a natural entrance or whether the VC blasted it open post-war. Whatever, once inside you are in a kind of vast internal lake. Only birds contributing any sounds, although apparently monkeys also inhabit the lagoon. An uplifting experience.
As we left the lagoon, I spotted these two rocks and immediately said "and that, I assume, is George Washington Island?" Unfortunately, it isn't. It's the rather more prosaic "Head Man Island". In front of it is "Tortoise Island".
Every boat and his wife wanted to park here, so our small vessel edged in via the side entrance. We then went for a stroll in the sand. One of the boats appeared to have got lost on its way to Ibiza, with Club 18-30 type music blaring out and a few of the characters on deck partying hard. I declined the swimming option (especially since we had just spotted some jellyfish in the shallow water), and prepared myself for the trek up to the top of the island.
I should have realized that things might be tough when the guide decided to stay at the bottom. I mean, I'd done the Monument, and Goodge Street Station. But then I realized that there are steps, and STEPS. As you get about half-way up the hill, you are definitely negotiating the latter. A few people in front of us definitely had to pause for breath, and I certainly wished that I had done more work on the steps machine in the gym. A good work-out.
This picture was actually only taken from about two-thirds of the way up.
Proof that I did make it to the top, and didn't just hire someone to take the photographs.
A view without my ugly mug in the way.
Despite the overcast day, we just got a hint of sunshine as the day edged to a close. Thus providing the opportunity for the obligatory sunset picture. With which I shall close the post. I'll put the rest of the trip's pictures up in a post tomorrow.
These have been uploaded using Photobucket, which looks like a neat little system, and which hasn't debarred Vietnam en bloc. I may use it instead of tinypic in future. In addition, I'll try to reload my BT Yahoo Pictures via Photobucket, although perhaps this won't happen until I get home.
Goodnight.
Being one of those people who allows for every possible wrong contingency, I was at the Tamarind Cafe at 7am. The confirmation told us to arrive before 8am. The woman there told me that the Handspan Travel Agency did not open before 8am. So, the logical conclusion was that you had to be there at exactly 8am. Various people who appeared to have left their luggage there (the Tamarind Cafe seems to act as Cafe, travel agency and left luggage office) for collection, were beginning to panic, as their coach left at 8am, but the door couldn’t be opened until the Handspan person arrived, scheduled for 8am.
This is known as “cutting it fine”. Harrington and Challinger would have been well at home, with John saying “no worries, the girl will turn up”, while Geoff would say “what’s the worse that could happen, we would have to buy a new set of clothes, laptop, camera and I-pod. Where’s the worry?”
Hint to people who have booked any tours online. Make sure you have all your paperwork. They wanted to pay the single supplement twice. Fortunately, I had my paperwork showing that I had already paid it.
The bus to Ha Long Bay had 14 people on it, but six were catching another boat. I thought that I would be on the boat with the remaining eight, but it was not to be. One was a young guy called Andy who was spending five months or so adventuring around south-east Asia. He said that he had spent 10 days in India not meeting anyone who spoke a word of English. That, I admit, I admire.
Anyway, Andy and les autres trekked onto one boat, and I was directed to another (twin) boat. So I met a whole new set of six people (three pairs of honeymooners – great, I thought) who had booked through a different travel agent.
But, not to worry. They were pleasant people and, I guess, now that they were married, no longer in the “love’s young dream” phase, but not yet in the “we have nothing to say to each other” stage.
Lunch was a bit overloaded with wedding comparisons, but, well, that’s fair enough. And it’s nice not to have to sit amidst uncomfortable silences. Our guide, Tuang, was also nice enough. He told us about the poverty that was in the countryside back when he was young, and how his father had fought (and been captured by, and escaped from, the French), but after Dien Bien Phu he had gone back to his village and stayed there.
After a very nice lunch we hoisted the main sail, or whatever it is they do on these sailing boats, and then went on a smaller boat for a ride into an islet (really quite a weird experience) and thence to Pagoda Island, or whatever it’s called. This was Tourism Central, but the walk up to the Pagoda (425 steps) brought a brilliant view.. And it had a beach as well. Goodness, these Vietnamese think of everything.
There was a kid at the stop selling bundles of liquid refreshments. I wondered if he humped them up the steps every day. It wouldn’t surprise me if he did.
And so it was back to the boat for a discussion on when dinner was served, and for the first time the guide was a bit non-plussed. We are two Americans (Chicago), a Spaniard, an Austrian, two Burmese and me. I didn’t care when I ate, but the Americans and Austrian and Spanish wanted to eat at about nine pm, which for Vietnamese diners is verging on midnight. I think they may have compromised at 8pm. But I think Tuang our guide had assumed people would say 7pm at the latest. I’d love to know how he sold this to the chefs and waiters.....
More later.
Oh, and, yes, my cabin is air-conditioned and has (rather inconsistent power levels of) electricity. Now why can’t I get the wireless internet to work.....
More later. Oh, and I took 135 photos today.
Later:
The Tropical Sails Company has a fairly good business model when it comes to feeding us. Catch fish and squid. Cook fish and squid. Feed customers. Oh, ok, I’m being unfair. We got chicken, and beef, and pork (and, bizarrely, some french fries with ketchup as a separate tasting course – about three chips each) as well. Plus a “Honeymoon cake”, which I promptly dispatched into that well known separate stomach reserved by human beings for desserts.
I asked about the fishing villages, one of which we saw early in the day, and out guide Tuang said that there were four in the entire region. The one that we visited must see about 100 passing boats a day --- hardly an isolated lifestyle resonating of the past.
I chatted away with the Austrian/Spanish couple about property prices in London – that staple of conversation everywhere, these days. They had just turned down a move to Atlanta (Michael works for Holiday Inn) and were considering a move back to London. His wife had the standard novice’s view of the property market. She knew that London was expensive, and thought that she was prepared to compromise. Until you actually got down to where she was prepared to compromise. Area? Nope. Size of apartment? Nope? Size of debt? Nope. As usual, it came down to this vision of buying a place that was “run down” and doing it up. I gently pointed out that everyone had the same idea, which meant that the discount on run-down properties was considerably less than people thought. And doing places up was an expense in itself. Anyway, I said, just write down the various factors involved, and then decide which one it would hurt to give up the least.
Friday: Up betimes. No sunrise. No surprise. A misty morning, but no rain yet, for which God be given Thanks.
Breakfast was, for me, that universal found in hotels worldwide, or at least the closest a Vietnamese junk can get to it. I said that they should serve up Pho Ba and other Vietnamese stuff. But apparently it’s assumed that all foreigners want ham and eggs and toast and jam for breakfast, no matter where they are in the world.
The trip to the Surprise Caves was pretty impressive. Tuang told us that during the Vietnamese War the Vietcong basically pissed on the US Navy in the Tonkin region because they knew which passages between the 1,900 rocks/islets were safe and which were not. They also had caves on the top of some of them, from which they used to shoot at US bombers heading back from Hanoi. The boats, meanwhile, ducked into caves at sea-level if the US guys were getting too close.
We arrived back at about 12 noon, meaning that the bat gets a 24-hour spinaround. I met up again with Andy who had been on the other boat and we talked about the business model. Back of a cigarette calculations gave us an investment of $250,000 (on three boats), an income (profit) over the whole year of about $100,000, and an amortization life on investment of six years. So, about $60,000 a year income for the company on the three boats. Not a fortune, but not bad for Vietnam.
The coach trip back was fairly tedious. I should have spotted the opportunity on an emptyish bus (only eight of us all the way) and spread out for a sleep. Instead I took a few pictures, listened to the Citizen and read some more Cloud Atlas. A traffic jam which looked like it had been caused by a crash on another route meant that I wasn’t back at the cafe until 4pm. I had some “Zen Pasta”, in the hope that it would improve my poker. Tamarind Cafe is one of the rare vegetarian joints in Hanoi, and its Zen Pasta was pleasant enough, but hardly redolent of Asian food.
Sofitel tried to get me to take an extra half-day and a very late check-out, since my plane on Sunday is 7.10 in the evening. When I declined, they offered me a 2pm check-out for free. At the moment (Saturday night) there is lightning and thunder, although no rain and not that strong a wind. I’d planned to trek to the Presidential Palace and Ba Dinh Square either tonight or tomorrow morning. I wish the weather would make up its mind.
Ahh, just as I type, the rain begins. A good decision by Birks not to go walkies...
The Red River, just outside Hanoi. Hanoi is actually below the level of the Red River. I can’t quite work out why it doesn’t flood.
Although the tourist boats leave from here, Ha Long City is mainly an industrial port, with a million people living in the region, many of them producing coal.
The people with whom I shared the bus out get relaxed on their boat. Andy, who is a project manager for luxury cars (cool, eh?) is on the right.
This bridge only opened a few months ago. Prior to that, any journey from one side to the other was by ferry. If I had to cite a single example of the evidence of the progress being made in Vietnam, it would be this bridge. If it had been opened in Europe, it would have been front-page news. As it is, it’s in an obscure part of Vietnam of which we know nothing. If stuf like this is going on all over Vietnam, the pace of change to the level of infrastructure is little short of frightening.
As if I don’t come across enough rocks on Ultimate Bet...
The First View of the boat. Note the refreshing lack of concern about safety issues (see height of protection from sea – about knee high for me and about ankle high for some of the other guys)
There were a lot of these. I’ll just give you one.
A fishing village household.
Tea-time.
A long-distance view of the whole fishing village.
A typical Vietnamese fisherman in the area.
There are 425 steps leading to the top of this island. I climbed the fucking lot. Pictures of the result. Later.
"Splice The Main Brace, me hearties!" (Is that the right term? I'm not that au fait with all this nautical stuff).
The inside area. In fact this is only used when the weather is inclement. We ate all meals on the dining area on the deck.
We got onto a small boat to explore the lagoon (curious that we had to leave the Lagoon Explorer to explore the lagoon but, well, there you go) and this gave the opportunity to capture a picture of the boat.
No matter where you are in the world, there will aways be Japanese tourists in speedboats willing to wave at you.
What I am unsure of is whether this is a natural entrance or whether the VC blasted it open post-war. Whatever, once inside you are in a kind of vast internal lake. Only birds contributing any sounds, although apparently monkeys also inhabit the lagoon. An uplifting experience.
As we left the lagoon, I spotted these two rocks and immediately said "and that, I assume, is George Washington Island?" Unfortunately, it isn't. It's the rather more prosaic "Head Man Island". In front of it is "Tortoise Island".
Every boat and his wife wanted to park here, so our small vessel edged in via the side entrance. We then went for a stroll in the sand. One of the boats appeared to have got lost on its way to Ibiza, with Club 18-30 type music blaring out and a few of the characters on deck partying hard. I declined the swimming option (especially since we had just spotted some jellyfish in the shallow water), and prepared myself for the trek up to the top of the island.
I should have realized that things might be tough when the guide decided to stay at the bottom. I mean, I'd done the Monument, and Goodge Street Station. But then I realized that there are steps, and STEPS. As you get about half-way up the hill, you are definitely negotiating the latter. A few people in front of us definitely had to pause for breath, and I certainly wished that I had done more work on the steps machine in the gym. A good work-out.
This picture was actually only taken from about two-thirds of the way up.
Proof that I did make it to the top, and didn't just hire someone to take the photographs.
A view without my ugly mug in the way.
Despite the overcast day, we just got a hint of sunshine as the day edged to a close. Thus providing the opportunity for the obligatory sunset picture. With which I shall close the post. I'll put the rest of the trip's pictures up in a post tomorrow.
These have been uploaded using Photobucket, which looks like a neat little system, and which hasn't debarred Vietnam en bloc. I may use it instead of tinypic in future. In addition, I'll try to reload my BT Yahoo Pictures via Photobucket, although perhaps this won't happen until I get home.
Goodnight.
Brief off topic etymological query
Date: 2007-04-29 11:45 pm (UTC)I assume that the phrase (word?) emanated from repeated exposure to brainless radio traffic reports, where shed loads (ie lorries distributing their contents all over the carriageway) are common.
I don't know why an unspecified amount of anything, that can supposedly fill a wooden hut in the garden, is helpful to the reader.
Re: Brief off topic etymological query
Date: 2007-04-29 11:51 pm (UTC)Titmus
Re: Brief off topic etymological query
Date: 2007-04-30 12:06 pm (UTC)PJ
Re: Brief off topic etymological query
Date: 2007-05-03 03:15 pm (UTC)Gee, photos
Date: 2007-04-30 05:13 am (UTC)I still can't see the earlier ones, and I'm now in England for a week, using my mother's computer (she doesn't have ZoneAlarm).
-- Jonathan
Re: Gee, photos
Date: 2007-04-30 09:00 am (UTC)Aksu
Re: Gee, photos
Date: 2007-04-30 12:07 pm (UTC)Pete