Hanoi ... Last Vietnam stop

We popped in and out of Hanoi a couple of times, but for the sake of free-flow, we'll write those bits and bobs altogether in one post.  

The photo above would completely and aptly describe Hanoi (and urban Vietnam), if there was also a few cell phones tucked in the photo, and speeding motorbikes!  But the old world charm of the French is still apparent (Les and Angie, this little gem made me wish you were here!), as is the influence of the agricultural backbone of the economy, add the chaotic mess of the buildings, and the desire of Vietnamese for nature to be part of their every day aesthetics.  

On first impression, Hanoi is a crazy bustle.  People everywhere, motorbikes tooting, taxis horns blaring, people rushing.  We only really saw a tiny section of the entire city.  We stayed in the Old Quarter, near Hoan Kiem lake.

Like all big cities, it seems that everyone needs to sell you something, and perhaps humanity is a little lost because for the most part, people are viewed through dollar-sign filtered lenses.  The form that this takes in Hanoi is curious ... it would be easy to people-watch all day long here!  Everything you could imagine is sold off the back of a bicycle.  Normally we'd say bike, but the word bicycle is more fitting as they are old fashioned things.  Little old men roll by on bicycles with a million varieties of dong la (conical Vietnamese hats).  Young ladies with artificial flowers so high and wide that you'd practically need to indicate to overtake them.  Orange baskets on the back of bikes.  Bananas.  Mango, guava, unidentifiable crimson coloured bulbous spiky fruit.  Mountains of toilet paper on the rack of a moped, another motorbike sky high with boxes of biscuits.  Another with as many chip packets as you could possibly balance on a bike with one bungee cord (it's surprisingly a lot!).  When you are finished with the bicycles, there are sellers on foot ... Tired faces walking along with basketfuls of doughnuts tucked under one arm, tired mostly because they spend so much time trying to find the needle in the haystack person who actually wants a doughnut. 30 something year old men toting tray-tables laden with lighters, wallets and other miscellaneous items you don't need to buy.  Motorbike taxi men.  Ladies offering hotels.  People loitering outside their restaurants, popping menus in your hands, enticing you to eat at any hour of the day.  

It seems like all the activity is tiring for the locals too!  I love this scene below, with its group of coffee drinkers, the dumpster that constantly rolls by, the fully-masked motorbike riders, and the sleepy rickshaw guy waiting for his next ride.

Eating places are all over.  In the evening, someone will turn up with a motorbike full of tables and chairs, and a portable oven, and little bags of market produce.  Within twenty minutes a fully operating eatery is running, and sometimes nice smells even overpower the wet newspaper smell that is Asia.  Com means cooked rice, and all over Vietnam there are signs saying either com or pho (broth soup).

With sensory overload we went down to Lake Hoan Kiem.  It's an oasis in the bustle.  Brides wearing brightly coloured traditional Vietnamese costumes have their wedding photos shot at the lake.  The pagoda in the middle is entirely picturesque, and lit up at night too.

Everything is full volume, even the powerlines!

We enjoyed the Women's Museum, which depicted domestic life for Vietnamese women, as well as profiling some women who have played important roles through history.  

The photo below is quite typical of Vietnam's big cities.  Hectic and chaotic, but somehow functional.

After a really happy month in Vietnam, we headed to the airport for our flight to Bangkok, an overnight in the airport, and our flight to Kathmandu, Nepal.  

And that, our friends, was that!  Thanks for sharing this leg of our journey with us.  (We hope that unlimited free wifi is as widespread in Nepal as in Vietnam).

Sapa #2 still inside NatGeo

Waking up in a Hmong village in Sapa Valley felt cozy.  The fogged-sunlight filtered through the cracks between the rough sawn boards that are the walls of Gian and Seo's home.  Blue light came through the tarpaulin near the roof, and one day the men in the family will bring back a hardwood log from high in the mountains above the village, to complete that section of the house.  

In the meantime, with sleepy eyes, quiet steps gather bamboo and a crouching shadow starts the fire for the day.  Gian awoke with the sound of little Peng's whimpers.  After a few moments of sucking, the little two year old clambers out of the family bed still wearing the same red dress as she wore yesterday.  In fact almost everyone is wearing what we wore yesterday.  Us visitors because we left our luggage in Hanoi so we could travel light, our local friends because they are wearing what they own. 

With the crackling of the fire, and a flickering light, Khoa and Peng walk around the room with hushed voices.  Their Dad is still asleep after a happy party with his friends last night.  In stark contrast, the roosters have been at it since early o'clock, and somehow chose to be cockle-doodle-dooing right outside the wall where we slept.  Maybe the soft rain had something to do with it, as they pranced around outside in the dry space under the wide eaves.

Silhouettes peeled and chopped.  Gian and her mother-in-law crouched on the dirt floor, preparing breakfast.  Gia swept the room with brisk strokes, sweeping items that the dogs had left while they meticulously licked every grain of rice that had fallen under the table the night before.  

Khoa had been coughing, and it was really wet outside.  To his protest, Gian said he should stay home from school today.  School is 7:30am till 11, a break for lunch, then 1 till 4pm, six days a week.  The 30 minute hilly walk each way doesn't deter Khoa from loving school.  His teacher recently said he was really clever.  Gian hopes her son will be able to teach her to read and write.  She articulated that she feels sad that she misses out on all the written messages around her in the town, and her generation are really glad their kids can attend school in the village.  

Khoa and cousin Xiu (pronounced Sue) spent a long time enjoying the coloured pencils we gave them. Sitting at the table, they drew their home, complete with the Vietnamese flag and a bright sunshine (which didn't exist that day in real life!). 

With raindrops tumbling all about us, we were glad for our dry hand-crafted haven in the hills.  The house has a solid wood framework, sitting on concrete cornerstones, with beams fitted together without nails/screws.  The carpentry is simple and effective.  Gia told us that all the men in the village gather together to construct a house, usually taking about a month (if the wood is already gathered).

The house below is the original home, built ten years ago.  Still solid, still a happy place to live.  Inside a wall of honour displays Seo's military photo, some certificates, a horn, and laminated photos.  Seo spent three years in the army when Khoa was just two years old.  Gia mentioned that the officials came around to the villages, enlisting men.  Grateful that her husband was too short, Gia smiled as she said he had been allowed to stay at home.  

Breakfast was served.  We ate our fill of rice from their rice paddies, rice-flour pancakes with bananas, morning glory and greyish tasty potatoes from their garden, as well as noodles with egg, and jasmine tea.  

The ladies in the family then brought out their wares ... Hand stitched bags, belts, pillowcases, and the father-in-law's handcrafted silver jewellery.  Gian gave us a treasure each - a belt with a secret pocket for Bry, and a mini bag for Blandolini.

The gift was pretty generous, considering all the detailed stitching has been done by hand, and the rest with an elegant looking Singer sewing machine, that was perhaps the pride of the family.

Lingering with our new friends, it seemed wrong to say goodbye, perhaps it was also the rain outside, and for us the realisation we were coming to the end of our Vietnam stint.

Seo left to trek up the hill to a local village wedding, very straight-backed and chuffed in his new suit jacket and vest. Gian said that each new years they make a new costume for each person in the family, for a special occasion.  Today was Seo's lucky day.  He grinned as we wolf-whistled at him, and translated through Gian, we said he was definitely the most handsome man in the village!  Quick-wittedly and humbly, the response came back 'but you haven't even seen the whole village!'

Spending time with Gian's family made a few big thoughts whirl around my head - not necessarily any conclusions, but the seeds of ideas.  Family pride.  Gratefulness.  Simple structures that are more 'home' than some mansions are.  Thankfulness to be able to have resources to travel, and legs that can walk uphill.  How people strategise to cope with the amount of education they've had.  How happiness stems from such simple things - coloured pencils and stories.  

We hugged and thanked our new friends, Khoa asked if we could stay for the month and be his English teachers, and his Mum said we needed to go.  It'd be a rich experience to live in this village for a spell ... What a fab idea Khoa!

The kids waved us off into the misty hills, and we slipped and slid down the vey muddy path to the motorbikes below.  I doubled Gian, and loved listening to her stories on the ride to town.  Bry's motorbike wanted to be pushed rather than driven, so we popped into the mechanics en route.  

Another thing we saw en route was a small procession of teary-eyed villagers.  40 or so people were led by drummers and horns, then a small shrine including a portrait of Uncle Ho (Chi Minh), and then the large wooden coffin.  The mournful loud music filled the misty valley in an eerie type of way, although some of the people in the procession smiled as they saw us. 

We caught the night bus back to Hanoi - a bit of a shambolic experience ... The bus picked us up at 5pm, drove 4 minutes then waited for an hour and a half before actually leaving, to stop at all the towns on the way.  We weren't impressed at 1am when we were dropped off nowhere near the centre of Hanoi in the rain!  Yay for taxis and friendly hotel guys.  

Sapa was incredible, easily tip top of our favourite things in Vietnam.  If you're ever within 5000 kms of that part of the world, prioritise stopping by.  Gian's number is (+84) 0166 37 333 67 and she will welcome you or your mates with open arms.

Life inside National Geographic channel (Sapa #1)

Sapa.  Postcards of lush green rice paddies, beautifully wrinkled round-faced ladies in colourful clothes, and amazing hillsides.  We returned our hired bike, and needed to sell the eagle motorbike so we could spend as much time as possible in the northern magical landscape.  We popped a 'for sale' sign on the bike, and tried a few touristy spots, the lake, some restaurants and backpackers, and played the waiting game.  

Finally we found a road that had heaps of motorbike hire and buy/sell shops.  Negotiating is the norm here, but not for us.  We were both relieved when a deal was made, but also sad to have finished this chapter of our journey.  We've had the BEST time on the bikes.  Definitely it was the most ideal way to get around this country, and I'd highly recommend it to both riders and non-riders alike.  

So without our beautiful bikes we explored Hanoi by foot.  As we're popping in and out of Hanoi a few times, we'll make a Hanoi post another day.  

The sleeping bus from Hanoi to Sapa town was a curious affair.  Climbing aboard around 9pm, the driver grunted while opening a plastic bag, and looked intently at our shoes.  With shoes tucked safely in the bag, we discovered 30 super reclined seats which tucked your toes under your front neighbours back.  The dark-haired 2m Aussie bloke struggled to tuck himself, and after a few minutes was glad to distract himself with the wifi on board and quite promptly posted a selfie on Facebook!

Pulling to a halt about 4am, the driver waited till 6am before he hollered 'Sapa town, now we get down.'  Reopening our eyes, a rub or two, and a glance out one window revealed a pretty lake with fog obscuring the view past a row of lakefront hotels.  Looking out the other window revealed a bustling mass of eager eyes peering up at the bus windows.   Lots of pint-sized hopefuls clothed in dark costumes with very colourful sleeves energetically anticipated our arrival into town.  Oh no.  We made a plan to get off the bus and walk left, and just keep walking.  Neither of us really like buying stuff, and it's hard to say 'no thank you' to folk when they offer you their handiwork.  Being rejected is not a pleasant thing, and especially after working long hours to represent one's cultural heritage through handcrafts.  

Sure enough, we steeled ourselves, turned left and were immediately followed by an older lady with a ready-toothless grin and a few others who endeavoured to keep up with our brisk pace.  We managed to say no thanks to her offer to stay at her house, and wished her a happy day.  Relieved we finally looked around, spotting a cafe (which meant a bathroom for one of us and a coffee for the other).  About to cross the road, another lady approached us.  Coal-black hair, cheerfully darting light brown eyes, an incredibly beautiful smile.  Gian (pronounced Jee-arn) had a kind heart, which was obvious from the outset.  Her rounded face was the colour of a lady who has laboured under the warm sun on many a day in the rice paddies.  Gian wore very dark indigo clothing handmade from hemp, and hand embroidered with colourful symmetrical patterns.  Gumboots looked out of place, but actually were ideal.  Gian said she had a husband and two small children, and lived in a village four hours trek through the rice fields from Sapa town.  She belonged to the Hmong people, and she was wearing their tradional clothes.  Her silver earrings were handcrafted by her father-in-law as was her solid necklace, with the chain-like section on the front.  Her silver bracelets made a soft jangly sound as she spoke animatedly about her family.  Immediately Gian was loveable!  Not wanting to commit, and being a bit nervous about being able to eat vegetarian in someone else's home, without making them feel uncomfortable, we said we'd get a coffee and plan our day.  Pulling a 1990's cellphone out of a non-existent looking pocket, 27 year old Gian exchanged numbers with us.  Gently fastening a cloth bracelet of each of us, Gian held up her pinky, and said 'I'd really like to show you my village, we'll talk later ... pinky promise?'  That was the clincher for me!

In the cafe we met the hilarious Argentinian newly-weds Federico and Ornela, who were on their honeymoon.  We also met our new Aussie friend Paris, who is tripping around Asia on a massive adventure.  We spent the next two days with these fine folk, and really loved their company.  Hiring motorbikes, the sadness of giving up our old bikes was quickly gone.  We rode through the super dense fog, looking at the markets. 

Munching some super soft doughnuts, and looking around at the many possible items to buy at the market, we chose to not purchase each of you the following medicinal kit.  There wasn't enough common language to communicate what exact remedy this is, but in any case, we're fairly certain none of you have whichever particular ailment it might be for!

Yes that is a skewered dried gecko next to that starfish, and various kinds of tree bark.  The people at the market were fascinating.  Being a bit mesmerised by their weathered faces, I found it hard to keep our cameras from shooting everyone in sight.  This is the stuff of National Geographic.  Most of our photos are on our Canon, as the quality is superior, so you might need to wait till we get back to enjoy the splendour of the Hmong people's faces.  

Riding up to a waterfall afforded us our first views above the fog.  

Steep hills and lots of rain means that the Sapa area is great for produce and rice.  Looking nothing at all like the postcards, we hoped we could get a glimpse of those famous terraced rice paddies.  

Phoning Gian, we arranged to ride motorbikes and meet her near their village.  The whole time we spent together, she never referred to her house as a sole entity, but constantly spoke of her village and her people.  And what a communal life they live.  

Maybe now's a good time to make a cup of tea and come back to read about the most beautiful highlight of this entire trip so far!

Leaving Sapa town, we got lost a few times, but riding through the thick fog, we caught a peek at a mini view.  

Rice paddies at last!  Gian met us on the main road and we rode up a short way before leaving our motorbikes at her extended family's home. We made the rest of the 20 minute uphill trek by foot, Gian calling out to vilagers along the way.  Children meandering happily, with little sweets in their mouths, and lots of skanky dogs minding their own business.  Black bristly pigs were as common as dogs.  

Very casually, Gian passed around a marijuana stem, asking if we knew what it was.  A couple of knowing smiles later and a crazed photo for Federico, and Gian showed us her dark indigo coloured jacket.  Seemingly unrelated at first, she explained that they make the fabric by hand using the plant.  Hemp is the fabric of choice in Hmong tribespeople, but it seems like they have figured out how to smoke it too!

Arriving at the home below, we felt really welcomed.  Surrounded by mystical fog and the songs of exotic birds outside, we perched on low benches around a cozy fire with our new friends.  

An eight year old boy shyly yet politely said hello, before tucking behind Gian to study the five tall foreigners who had just entered his house.  Khoa is a clever kid, and Gian's eldest.  A vibrant two year old bounced around, and as soon as she spotted her Mum, pulled up Gian's top for a quick welcome home drink with Mum.  Peng is a cheeky cherub, with an eye for sweets and is rather fantastic at communicating what she wants.  We met Gian's mother-in-law, a bright-eyed mother of seven whose constant smile revealed a few golden teeth.  Gian's sister in law, Gia (pronounced Shee-a) was strikingly beautiful wearing her brightly coloured head scarf, and appeared younger than her 26 years.   The wise old man in the corner was Gian's father-in-law, silversmith, basket maker, musician and gentle granddad.  

Later in the evening we met Seo, Gian's husband.  A man of few words, but wanting to share the sparkle in his eye, he lovingly cuddled his children after returning home from his expedition high into the mountains.  The family are completing their house, and Seo and his brothers spend days in the mountains searching for hardwood timber to replace the temporary tarpaulin walls.

A feast was prepared by Gian and her family, in the dim-lit house.  The house consists of a large open area, with a small corner partitioned with a blanket, the family live a beautifully communal life.  It was striking that everything revolved around the single bare-bulb that lit the room, along with a fire on the hard-packed mudfloor.  

We watched dishes being prepared on the fire around us, and asked six million questions.  Their life seems from a different era.  Electricity came to their village two years ago, and water is piped down to their village from the mountains above.  All their cooking happens on the fire, and they set a high standard for a home-cooked meal.

Over the course of the evening, a steady stream of people filed in, each nodding their head in greeting, and joining us around the fire.  When it was time to eat, it was like a Christmas banquet with a table of happy faces, and delicious aroma filling the air.  We filled our hungry tummies with rice which Gian's family had grown and harvested.  We also tucked into the most delicious spring rolls and tofu curry.  One of the father's friends jovially poured a clear liquid out of a plastic water bottle into mini porcelain bowls for each person.  When we asked what the liquid was, Gian replied with 'it's happy water!' and after a pause said 'that's what we call rice wine!'

The jovial gentlemen said cheers in their language, and became even more jovial as he knocked a few back.  Lots of banter in three languages made for a happy night, and we felt entirely at home with our new friends.  The fog turned to rain, and as some of us silently hoped this simple roof would keep us dry, others nodded and headed into the dark night to their own homes.  

Around 8:30pm, with everyone tucked into bamboo slat beds in different corners of the room, the communal light went out, and we all heard the symphony of raindrops on the roof, with the occasional scrapping of the puppies, and a few more sucking sounds from Peng.  

(Read on in 'Sapa #2' post)

Ha Long Bay better than beautiful

Trying to sum up our AWEsome experience of Ha Long Bay ... Here's our list:

Fantasy-like landscape

Mystical columns of giant nobules donked down on the seabed (they're called karsts)

Gorgeous green layers on every horizon

Completely unrivalled Vietnamese picturesqueness and

Spectacular 360 views all day long

Waking up our view from our fourth floor lodging on Cat Ba Island is below.  It's a cosy wee fishing village we're in, centred around a harbour that is thriving at dawn as the men head out to snatch their catch.  It's the perfect spot to explore the magical Ha Long Bay.  

Ha Long Bay is a crazy place!  Difficult to describe, but if you imagine 2000ish gargantuan stone pillars standing bolt-upright in deep emerald seas you'd be close.  Add a lot of leafy green foliage clinging to those rocks, chuck in some monkeys for good luck, and lots of old colourful Oriental junk boats on the sparkling waters and you're getting the picture.  To cap it all off, there are floating houses in mini bays, and whole fishing villages set against that surreal backdrop.  We tossed around the idea of how postal addresses would be organised for these floating houses ... It was easier to conclude they all had wifi to go with their satellites.  

Around every corner, another magical view opens up and you marvel again at yet another vista.  So you prod your mate in the ribs to say 'hey look over here' but meanwhile there's a whole other new view she's looking at on the far side of the boat.  And this happens all day long!

Ha Long Bay is a UNESCO World Heritage Site, and it's name literally means descending dragon bay.  Legend has it that the islands of Ha Long Bay were fashioned when a great dragon from the mountains charged to the ocean.  When it plunged into the sea, it's flailing tail thrashed out valleys and crevasses, and the area filled with water, and now only the limestone karsts remain visible.  

Ha Long Bay has an area of 1553km squared, and is dotted by her 1969 islets.  Imagine a game of hide and seek in that massive maze!  Famed for her beauty within Vietnam before legends were born, the locals have been mesmerised by this mystical landscape.  500 years ago a Viet named Nguyēn Trãi described Ha Long Bay as the "rock wonder in the sky."  

A full day cruise around (a fraction of) the bay was stunning to say the least.  About 18 or so of us were on board to enjoy the sun (and heat relief with the afternoon clouds!) as we gently wove between curious shaped islets through the emerald water.  Potentially we could have swum faster, but the change of pace from hectic Hanoi the day before was refreshing.  

Brightly coloured fishing boats darted about us as we ambuled along, with their sleepy fishermen lying in shaded hammocks, enjoying a small kip after their early start. Photographer heaven!

We met George onboard, a friendly Swiss doctor from Basel who was in Vietnam for two weeks, helping local hospitals train their doctors, and treating some untreatables in the area.  He was warm-hearted and kind.  We had a big chat with Leah and Cam, an English couple who had tons of interesting travel stories.   And thanks to them we have photos of us kayaking in one of the many lagoons within Ha Long.  We kayaked through caves and into quiet bays, spying monkeys, tiny tadpolish-like creatures, and oddly-long spear-shaped fish.  

Birds of prey circled the tops of the limestone karsts, waiting for their lunch.  We watched one large winged creature swoop and scoop his slippery kai from the deep waters with impressive precision.  His little haul flashing silver in the bright sun.  Glad I'm not a fish.

The warm waters felt fab on such a summery day, brave Bry jumped off the roof of the boat.  The Tonkin Sea was deep, and we swam over to a miniature white sand beach.  Backstroking afforded the most exotic views, with the karsts rising straight up out of the water all about us.  A few of those birds with strong tallons circled above is, on the up-drafts created by the islets.  Some of us increased our stroke pace at that point.  

Mostly our day looked like the photo below.  The two French boys tanning themselves with jovial laughs at the back of the boat. The Parisienne family with their two daughters (the five year old reminding us so much of little Nina as she busily occupied herself throughout the entire day, making numerous doll-holding arrangements with a scarf she had brought).  Leah and Cam, our English mates with their travel stories and laughs.  And George, our Swiss doctor mate, who kept us amused.

Monkey Island was our last stop-off.  You've already guessed what kind of creatures inhabited the island, but we need to point out that the human visitors were perhaps more primate in behaviour than the locals.  A boat-load of people arrived just before us, and hadn't been to respect school.  They taunted the monkeys, provoking them to bare their teeth in response.  The people held out bottles of water, which the monkeys took and used their teeth to pierce a hole in the end to drink the fresh water.  We felt annoyed when the bottles were offered and then pulled back.  We quietly cheered the monkeys on when they lunged on their tormentors ... We anticipated a lesson-giving, perhaps teeth marks and blood, but one of the guys who works on the island moved the tourists on before we got that far.  The monkeys were mostly distinguishable by their bright red behinds as they swung through the branches.

Ha Long Bay has easily been the highlight of coastal Vietnam.  Some official-sounding foundation has included the area as one of the Seven Wonders of the Natural World.  Rightly so!  Staying on Cat Ba Island was the right thing to do, right in the midst of it all.  This trip just gets better and better!

A snippet of snippets

While waiting here in the sea breeze for the Cat Ba ferry, looking out to this view ... 

... we're having a laff about tiddly things that have happened, and so for our own memory sake we thought we'd scribe them, if you'd like to read on, then do.  

In a hotel room in an undistinguishable town we discovered a very large green hoppy insect clinging to the high ceiling architrave.  Blandy went down to the lobby, drew the creepy looking thing on her hand (which was potentially indiscernible), and asked the gentlemen to come and save the day.  Sure enough, the locust-like insect made the man grunt 'ahhhh' meanwhile Bry mimicked chewing all her fingernails at once, to indicate that she was terrified.  Our rescuer said with a dead-pan face 'here no, Thailand eating yes.'  Eh?  Did he just think Bry was asking if she could eat it?!  While Blandy swiped for the camera, the man made a quick exit, probably to save the critter from Bry and her rather dubious appetite!  (Sorry we didn't get that photo, but the freaky bug was green-apple green, about 8cm in length, and had the spindliest legs that'd tickle ya throat if you lived in Thailand.)

(Bry's re-enactment)

Another funny memory was when we were tripping along the main road between two non-famous towns, and we see that up ahead a truck has been pulled to the side of the road by the traffic police.  Vietnamese traffic police wear this beige coloured uniform, the colour catches your eye for all the wrong reasons.  Bry was riding in front, and saw one of the beige brigade standing in the middle of the road, facing us, and he was flapping his arm around hip height.  Obviously that meant something, but just not to us!  So we stopped and waited behind the colossal truck, just in case.  The beige guy bought another beige boy over, looked us up and down, looked at our muddy bikes from front to back, looked again at the number plate which was mostly dirt.  Both of our minds raced at 106kms an hour - we hadn't been speeding (come on ... on 110cc bikes?!), we had our helmets on ... What were they looking for?  Beige guy pulls out some fancy paperwork, pointing to us and nodding in reply to our pidgin "same same?".....  We have no idea what paper he expects us to produce but we start unstrapping our luggage as if we're sure we've got just the thing round here somewhere.  Whatever it was, they must've thought we wouldn't have it but would offer them some cash as a fair alternative because they lost interest pretty quick, threw their hands up and waved us on.  So... that was weird.  We've since been told the cops aren't generally interested in bikes anyway, because the real money is in busting truckies for log-book discrepancies and other misdemeanours.

(This is the ownership paper (blue card) for our eagle bike, most likely what the beige guy was after.)

Another wee story:  While patiently listening to the imploring spiel of a cheeky motorbike tour operator in Hoi An, we held up our motorbike keys and said 'no thanks mate, we're already doing our own tour.  In fact would you like to come on our tour?  We give you special price.'  He grinned back, perhaps glad to have a different answer than a flat-out no.  After a wee yarn about where we'd been, he said he'd like to show us the countryside (?).  Another 'no thanks' and he shot back with this pearler ... 'Never try, never know!'  That was our new favourite saying for the next couple of days!

While getting petrol near Cua Viet beach, a 12ish year old girl (or possibly boy) with sparkling eyes shuffled over to see who the new duo in town were.  The kid was a few sandwiches short, and seemed super mesmerised by us.  Her too-short faded trousers and grubby hands added a certain kind of charm to this girl too.  While I straddled the bike and said thanks to the petrol pumping lady, our new little friend shuffled right up to me, and slowly reached her filthy hand towards my arm.  Half of me wished I'd worn long sleeves that day, and it also crossed my mind that perhaps I was the first foreigner this kid had seen up close.  So I reached out to hold her hand, and gave her a cuddle, to which she chuckled with excitement.  Wiping some drool from her chin, she shuffled back and then forward again, and very decisively and deliberately the kid unzipped my shorts pocket and grunted.  Glad for all that practise at the hand-slap game, my hand swiftly shot down to protect my worldly assets, and another finger waggled in the kids face while saying 'my moolah will stay right there thanks you adorable little swiping munchkin!'  Needless to say, I was probably not the first foreigner the kid had seen!  Never try, never know!

(This is a roadside mini petrol pump that lots of people have outside their houses.)

Because we don't want to get malaria, we've been taking Doxycyline each night.  There are a couple of side-effects of these anti-malarials, including better looking fingernails and clearer skin, and the one we're enjoying the most is that it makes your dreams really vivid.  Yes, yes, we're a bit weird!  But we enjoy a laugh as soon as we wake up as we chat about the bizzaro dreams we've had.  They've all been super happy dreams, and some of you guys have performed some hilarious antics during them!  So thanks for the entertainment!

Mattresses in Vietnam are rock-like.  Sometimes ya can get a 'solid' nights sleep.  The explanation became obvious one morning as we rode past a mattress factory with their colourful mattresses all standing upright in the sun. Giant slabs of polystyrene were right next to the mattresses.  Seriously?!  On closer inspection, the hotel mattresses seem to be mostly polystyrene with a mini layer of slightly soft something on top.  Lucky I brought my own internal cushioning!

The lucky (or unlucky) eagle has broken down a few times.  One of those episodes was 25km south of Hanoi while on the main highway into town.  The metal rod that connects the foot brake with the actual brake mechanism had unattached itself, and also the accelerator could be rotated but no extra rev happened.  So with no back brakes and no acceleration, Blandy took the other bike for a reccy to find the nearest mechanic.  It was about 2kms away, between rice paddies and winding alleyways through the back of a village.  It was 35 degrees, and we were tired.  Blandy couldn't be boofed pushing the bike all that way.  Not able to find the mini rope we've got, MacGuyver whipped off her belt and we used that as a tow rope.  We must've looked a sight wobbling on our grubby motorbikes, on a two foot wide path through rice paddies with canals of murky water either side!  But we made it to the mechanics pretty swiftly, and found a chilled water to enjoy in the shade.

Helmets in Vietnam can be worn a number of ways... On your head.  On your arm, over the handle bars of your motorbike, hooked on the helmet loop under the seat, strapped on the back, buckle clipped, buckle unclipped... Or simply not at all.  Another variation of that is the driver wears one, but the three child passengers don't.  Or arguably better when the family on the motorbike all have helmets  on, albeit unclipped.  As they go over a bump, the three year old wedged in the middle turns around to see her pretty pink helmet scuttling away under the bushes beside the road.  About 200m further along the Dad realises his daughter is helmetless, looks around and sees me tapping my helmet and pointing back to the spot!  He did a u-turn in the direction of the pink blur in the distance.  We heard the fine for riding with no helmet is $8NZ, so not that steep.  However a more incentivising reason to wear a helmet is that 40 people die here on the roads every day.  Don't worry our Mum's, we're being careful.

(Top Gear boys riding through Vietnam with cookware for helmets! FYI they're not travelling with us.)

(The photo our Mum's will disapprove of.)

So those are our snippets of memories, hope they made you smile!  Thanks for your messages and kind comments ... We are both super lucky to have so many beautiful people in our world! xx