#writingbits

Good morning Vietnam! What a day, what a place. I grabbed my smokes and water bottle, and parked myself on the balcony in an attempt to come up with some sort of plan for my day. And write this blog, which definitely didn't happen after I was greeted by a full frontal view of the naked man on the balcony across from me. I've since discovered this is a daily ritual for him. And before you start wondering, the answer is no, it's not a pleasant viewing experience. I met Su at her cafe round the corner, and while waiting for Bridget we talked coffee. Her family grows, roasts and exports coffee beans, and she's a wizard when it comes to brewing Vietnamese style coffee. I showed her some basic latte art, and how to make a chai latte, and she showed me a classic Vietnamese drip coffee. Her cafe is super cute, seating around 30 people and featuring white brick walls, textured wood and pendant lights. Her staff are friendly and helpful, even if they don't speak a lot of English. Fully caffeinated we took an uber to a cafe called The Hungry Pig for breakfast. It was basically a sandwich bar built entirely around the concept of "bacon is life" and it did not disappoint. By the time we finished it was midday, so we headed to Bui Vien, the cities pub street, to organise a Vietnamese SIM card for me, and of course treat ourselves to another margarita. I also booked a Mekong delta tour for the next day, costing me $14AUD. It included heaps of sightseeing as well as lunch, so I was pretty stoked. After our margs we went a salon to get a full body massage. Bridget's friend had recommended them so we knew it was legit, and cost us $3AUD each for a full hour. Back on Bui Vien we had what was probably the most entertaining lunch I've ever experienced. Immediately after sitting down an old man with 3 fingers on each hand tried to sell us a massage by grabbing Bridget's shoulders. She was highly uncomfortable while I sat and laughed. Bridget went to find an ATM while I sat nursing a beer, and another salesman approached me selling lighters. I told I already had one, and so offered me marijuana instead. I politely declined, and he responded with "pills? Ecstasy? Is good shit" My lack of interest clearly disappointed him, and he moved on the next occupied table, again with no success. The poor guy occupying said table was under constant harassment from street vendors of every description, including one very adamant in polishing his shoes, which were canvas. Another tourist sat down, ordered herself a beer, and was approached by the drug dealer. She showed an interest, then said he was too expensive and it wasn't worth it. He decided to barter. He sat at her table and ordered himself some sort of cocktail that came in a giant coconut. After watching this hilarious debate for half an hour, they settled on a price, hugged it out, and the show was over. Bridget and I decided to part ways for a nap before meeting up for dinner. Catching my first solo uber into town, we met at a busy little Mexican restaurant with delicious food and some seriously eclectic staff. Again I was offered marijuana, this time by an older lady dressed in red who loved my hair. Again I politely declined. I don't think she found a buyer, because she came back an hour later as high as a kite to serenade me and try to braid my hair. Bridget insists in her entire year living in Ho Chi Minh she has never been approached by a drug dealer, and we put it down to the blue hair. Finishing our cocktail jug we decided on "one more marg", a sentence I was becoming far too comfortable with. We headed for Bui Vien, now absolutely pumping with tourists, locals, street performers and bands. Picking a pub at random, our "one more marg" of course turned into about 6, and we made friends with two groups of people we'll likely never see again. Realising the time and remembering I had booked a tour, I grabbed an uber back to my hotel. I'd left my water bottle at the pub, and was getting desperate. Hearing me hiccuping in the back seat, my driver produced a fresh icy cold bottle of h2o and passed it over. Bursting into grateful tears I thanked him profusely, telling him to keep the change from a 200,000 dong note when the fare was 35,000 (too many margs). Waking to my alarm at 7, I realised even if I made the tour I was going to be so sick it was easier to let my $14AUD go, and went back to bed.

We booked a cooking class through Lily's Secret Garden for our morning, so Chris, Lily's husband, picked us up in his tuk-tuk at 8:30, along with another young couple, expats travelling from Qatar. Chris took us to a "drive through" market. Kind of like a normal crowded local market, only you didn't have to get off your motorbike to go through. It was busy, pungent and dark. We watched coconut cream get made and picked out seasonal fruits and vegetables for class. Still slightly seedy and tired, Bridget misheard Chris explaining the difference between chicken and duck eggs, and asked "but how do they treat the dogs at the farm? Are they well looked after?" Realisation dawned only after I pointed out dogs do not in fact lay eggs. The other couple had a decent sense of humour, resulting in continuous banter throughout the rest of the class. The fresh spring rolls were amazing, although it turns out I like duck eggs even less than I like chicken eggs (or dog eggs, I can only imagine) and tapioca, that gelatinous ball shaped substance floating around in your oh so hip bubble tea, still freaks me out on the texture scale. We had a blast, and it was definitely money and time well spent. Returning to our hotel for the last time, we had one final nap followed by poolside margarita before flying back to Ho Chi Minh. Me being the highly organised human I'm known for being, had the address for my home stay saved in my emails. Except that I didn't. I had saved the address of the cafe my hosts also owned, and so following Su's instructions put my hand through the gap in the door, unlocked it, and walked straight into an old Vietnamese mans lounge room. He was quite polite and turns out we were only around the corner from the house, so we found our way in the end. Dropping our stuff we caught an uber to a nearby restaurant Bridget had been to a few months earlier. Turns out there are 2 restaurants called 5KU in that district. We were at the wrong one Nobody spoke English, the menu was completely in Vietnamese, and we were the only white people in sight. I thought the whole situation was hilarious. We asked for a salad with our mystery dishes, and our waitress in formed us "salad all gone" However she managed to come up with a tiny plate of cucumber and tomato slices, making me laugh even more, because Bridget doesn't eat tomato. The other dishes were surprisingly good, considering we had no idea what we ordered. We organised to meet up in the morning and parted ways to get some well earned Z's.

Well hello Cambodia. Home of the famous Ankhor Wat, fried bugs on a stick, and so many doggos. Starting at 4am, Bridget and I headed out to the temples to watch the sunrise, a breathtaking spectacle despite the cranky old British ladies trying to get the perfect shot and loudly protesting the amount of tourists. Rich orange and pink tones surrounded the structure, magnified by the glassy water on the lake below. Watching the world come to life amongst the throng of tourists one thing came to mind, the voice of Darryl Kerrigan, "How's the serenity?" Our driver Doran escorted us back to the hotel for breakfast in his little orange tuk-tuk before returning to the temples for further exploration. By this time the cheeky monkeys had come out to play, there were triple the tourists, and the sun was high in the sky, resulting in some epic burn lines for my pasty self. The temples were beautiful inside, featuring motifs telling stories of war and kings who lived 800 years in the past, with detailed elephants, horses, monkeys and so much more. Most of the original steps were still intact, and I'm in awe of how such a tiny people were able to manage the incredibly steep inclines, let alone haul bricks at least 2ft across up them to create these amazing structures. Ankhor Wat is enormous, with most guides suggesting multiple days to explore. We quickly learned that this was not only due to the sheer size of the complex, but also the unrelenting heat and humidity. After four hours and 8 bottles of water we were both feeling worse for wear, and so headed back to our hotel. After some seriously cold showers and a nanna nap with the aircon on high, we had lunch at a traditional Khmer restaurant in the city centre, followed by a stop at the gelato lab where they made a perfect ristretto coffee, making me one very happy tourist. With bloated bellies we parked ourselves next to the pool to enjoy happy hour before dinner. Turns out our hotel bar staff make a mean margarita. Bridget had booked dinner at a training restaurant call Marum. The service was excellent, and we sat in the lantern lit courtyard with a bottle of Pinot enjoying a range of beautiful tapas style dishes, followed by house made chocolate cake topped with ice cream and fresh passion fruit. We talked until there was no more wine, and we were the last people there. The night was still young, so we headed to Pub Street in search of further beverages. Aptly named, the street is packed with pubs, bars and restaurants. Crowded with tourists the packed street is a sensory overload. Bands were playing in the street while on either side music blared out from every pub. Neon lights flashed all around and bells were announcing winners of various drinks competitions in every direction. We settled on The Red Piano, a corner pub with cute little lounges looking out on to the street. Our "one more drink" turned into several margaritas, an extra packet of cigarettes, and an affogato for Bridget, an ice cream fiend if I ever saw one. Realising we didn't have enough cash for the bill, our friendly waitress informed us they didn't take plastic. It was after midnight, and seeing the look of panic on our faces the waitress took pity and offered to pay the difference in our bill, so long as we returned the next day to repay her. Shout out to her, the real MVP for the evening. We returned with her money first thing in the morning, and in fact doubled it for her troubles and good will.

It's Rachel's birthday! Our last morning in the jungle began with Jane's favourite sentence, "Birthday Selfie time! Everybody snuggle!" Our last adventure with the tour group was to the Gomantong Caves, inhabited by thousands of bats and one of the major sources of edible birds nests. The walk to the caves was a sight in itself, spotting red leaf monkeys, with their tiny red faces, pamelo trees, and some interesting looking bugs. We had been warned about the caves, yet no matter what mental preparation you go through you will never quite be ready. Even the tourists headed the other direction suggesting things like "don't breath, don't slip, don't look, you may survive" or simply wishing you luck worked as a minimal deterrent, with that forever present voice in the back of your head whispering "yeah, but they're exaggerating. It won't even be that bad". It was that bad. The smell hits you first. A suffocating burst of ammonia and chicken shit. The grip beneath your shoes starts slipping away as the bat feces underneath gets thicker the further you venture. Cockroaches and centipedes creep along the hand rails and you fear to look up incase a bat drops a deuce on your face. The immediate impression is not great, however the further in you go, the brighter things do get. The cave opens up into a beautiful rocky alcove, filled with plant life illuminated by the sunlight streaming in from above. You can almost forget about the smell at this point. We enjoyed the view for as long as humanly possible before gratefully making our way back to open air and hosing the centre meter thick black dontreallywanttoknowexactly off the bottom of our shoes. After dropping our excess travellers off at the airport, it was back to being the 6 of us, and JK, for the rest of the day. We luncheoned at the Sandakan English Tea House, across from Agnes Keith's house, an American writer best known for her biographical work concerning Borneo in World War II. We sat overlooking the ocean and city under a beautiful big old tree amongst manicured lawns. The food was probably the best we've had all trip, and Rachel thoroughly enjoyed her birthday feast. Well rested, we explored the city of Sandakan before saying goodbye to JK, starting with a Chinese mosque, then moving to the Sim Sim village (called such because some English guy a long time ago described it as "same same" and was highly misinterpreted).All the houses here are built over the water on stilts connected by a series of jettys. The section we visited was painted in vivid shades of yellows, blues, reds and greens, and the people were incredibly friendly, with one even inviting us inside to take a look. Walking back along the jetty, I spied 4 naughty looking boys (they weren't doing anything, they just had that look all naughty boys between 8-12 years old have. Slightly guilty, and trying not to laugh) holding a chicken. I asked if I could take their photo, with their chicken of course, and they were extremely flattered for about 5 seconds before realising how horribly embarrassed they were. I got the photo and left them in a state of awkward hushed whispers and fits of naughty boyish laughter. Heading back toward Sepilok and the Orangutan centre, we drove up to a beautiful looking resort. It had stunning gardens, the rooms looked big and fancy, and excitement rose throughout the group.... until dad realised we were in the wrong place. As the bus did a U-Turn we tried to stay positive, although couldn't hide the disappointment entirely. We pulled into another resort, older, scraggier, and seemingly abandoned, with a burnt out (as in had seemingly caught fire several hundred years ago and been then forgotten about) panel van in the front yard. Dads name was written amongst others on a whiteboard outside reception, which was empty and locked. The sign said after hours check in happened at the Banana Cafe, so we did another U-Turn and drove a little further down the road. Entering what appeared to be an abandoned old car yard, however signposted, our hopes were plummeting. A little Malaysian man then bundled us into a rusty mini van and drove us back to the previous destination whilst mum whimpered in the back seat, cracking Chrissie, Jane and Rachel into absolute hysterics. It wasn't as bad as it seemed from the outside, and the rooms were spacious and clean, despite ours smelling like rotten seaweed. Once we figured out it was coming from the pipes in the bathroom we shut the door and opened the window, which made it at least bearable. Turned out there were plenty of others staying there, and by the end of the night the restaurant was nearly full. I definitely wouldn't give the place 5 stars, but it wasn't the worst experience I've ever had.

Our second morning in the jungle started at 5:30. After a quick caffeine hit we headed back to the boat for another river tour, this time bird spotting. I’m not exactly a big bird person but enjoyed it nonetheless. Our sleeping orangutan friend was still in his nest high above us, and we saw a few more monkeys along the way. Returning to the lodge for breakfast, I decided to use our time before the next event as wisely as I know how, and went back to sleep. We took a short boat ride before lunch to other side of the river, in order to walk through one of the local villages. The heat and humidity were nearly unbearable and what felt like 8kms was actually about 4. The children called out and waved from their classrooms as we passed, and we stopped at the local store for a cold drink along the way. Monkeys scattered as we passed their overtaken home, and they appeared to be having an excellent time collecting anything they could find from the (hopefully) abandoned house. We made our way back through the heat, and I got mildly sunburnt, and back to the lodge for lunch. Our afternoon venture was another river tour. This time through the more dense jungle, seeing a grey tailed racer snake, baby crocodile, and many more monkeys, including the proboscis with his very odd shaped nose, and on our way back to lodge we saw the elephants one more time. Feeding along the river bank behind the reeds, the photo opportunities were no where near what the were the day before, although still beautifully majestic. With the night tours cancelled for various reasons, we made our way back for dinner and a well deserved glass of wine.

Our commute to Stanley was fairly easy, however we spent the entire bus ride sitting in front of an extremely large, loud man, incessantly chewing and popping his gum which gave Tanika an eye twitch. The weather was beautiful, and the view of the harbour was breathtaking. Stanley boasts a number of Guinness world records including; most number of dogs having their teeth brushed at the same time, largest simultaneous dog grooming session, largest puppy school class held, and various other dog related feats. There's even designated "dog parking" areas where you can safely tie your puppers whilst you shop. We had lunch at The Pickled Pelican, a cute western style pub overlooking the water, although opting for the window seat I may have got a little sunburn. The food was excellent, and with full tummies we began our shopping experience. The markets are packed with stalls and outlets providing pretty much anything you can imagine. Linen, clothing, handbags and wallets, tacky gift ideas, dog supplies, art, the best onesies you've ever seen, and any motorised gadget you can think of. Want a toy hovercraft? Bejewelled karaoke microphone? Shoes that flash when you walk? You can get it at Stanley! Emerging from the rabbit warren with an enormous amount of stuff, with a quick pit stop for a beer of course, we made our way back to the city. Mum had planned to meet us at a bar called Joe Bananas after an appointment, so we followed our map and departed the train at Wan Chai, quickly realising we must be in what was essentially the red light district. Wondering where the hell mum had sent us, we navigated our way through the maze of strip clubs and bars to where we were supposed to meet, which was very much a western blokes bar, with us being the only females in the entire place. We settled into a corner and ordered a mojito each, quietly surveying our surroundings. Mum was running late, and feeling like we were about to fall asleep in our booth we decided to meet her out the front. When she arrived we headed towards Central, showing Tanika what I refer to as "The forever escalator", which travels for 800m with a 135m elevation, said to be the longest in the world. Unfortunately it only goes one way, changing direction at midday, so however far you go is however many stairs you have to tackle going the opposite direction. We got off around 2/3 of the way up and found a lovely little tapas style restaurant for dinner, boasting delicious lemon tart which I can most definitely vouch for. Our journey home was interrupted only by a very indulgent stop at Lush, and then again at the Body Shop.

It's Disneyland day! The one thing Tanika knew she desperately wanted to do. I had to pick up a new SD card as I filled my first one in two days (typical) so we stopped at Kowloon Tong and I had a very awkward moment where I couldn't figure out where the register was and the man ran off with my money and the SD card, but I figured it out in the end. We showed Tanika Taste, an upmarket supermarket that sells everything from hand made sushi to freshly squeezed juices, of which we picked up one each for our journey. We made it to Sunny Bay (even managing to get seats!), and on to the Disneyland train with Mickey shaped windows and figurines of various characters lining the walls. With Tanika almost shaking in excitement, and myself not much different, we made it through the gates, past the giant water feature of Mickey surfing water from a whales blowhole, and found ourselves a map. Deciding to start with Adventure Land, we discovered we were just in time for the next session of "Festival of the Lion King", a 30 minute stage show that was almost entirely worth the entry price. Enormous extremely detailed animated puppets of Simba, Timone and Pumba, and various other characters were main features in the production, along with intricate costumes, beautifully choreographed dance moves and extremely talented performers. It was probably the highlight of the entire day. Making our way back into reality, we headed for Grizzly Gulch, where Tanika managed to convince mum to go on a roller coaster. Despite her high pitched assurances of "I'm fine, I can do this" she copes extremely well, and didn't even scream. To be honest the reaction was slightly disappointing. Our stomachs were rumbling, and so after making it to Mystic Point, we stopped for lunch. The food was gross, looked nothing like the pictures or the description, but being at that point of hunger we ate as much as we could handle and kept moving, rather quickly. Mystic Manor was probably mums favourite attraction, featuring a cheeky monkey called Albert and a relatively slow paced ride where the worst that happened was a few water droplets obscuring her glasses. Although I think she enjoyed the couple behind us photobombing our obligatory selfie just as much. Heading for Tarzans' Tree House, it started to drizzle, but with mums assurance that the weather was at its worst for the day, we boarded the raft and began our super authentic jungle exploration. Tanika had her first experience of witnessing Chinese spitting, and I was asked to get a photo with a very polite pair of Indian gentlemen. The Treehouse itself was pretty cool, although I was slightly confused as to why baby Tarzan was watching Tarzan the movie, but I guess not everything has to make sense in this confusing world. Tanika was shattered once we arrived at the princess garden, to find out Tinkerbell had packed up and called it quits for the day, however the rest of the princess Castles were nearly as exciting, especially when we figured out you turned the little wheel and they started doing stuff. With a chorus of "Under the Sea" and a swing in our step, we continued on our adventure. Although we couldn't meet Tinkerbell, Winnie the Pooh was out and about still, although looking a little on the tired side. Being a fond childhood memory for both of us, we joined the queue with a 20 minute wait time for a few snaps. When it was finally our turn, Pooh got a little too friendly. If there's one way to crush a dream, it's to have your butt groped by your childhood hero. Despite this we both still bought a honey pot mug as we left that night, and refuse to let one gropey Pooh ruin our memories. And hey, we still got our photo taken. Our program said the Mad Hatters teacup ride would be closed, but with luck in our favour (sort of) it was open and the queue was short! After maybe elbowing a few kids in the face (I said maybe! Nothing confirmed and no visible injuries) we scored a super sweet teal cup. And god dammit we were the fastest teacup in there! Well, we felt like we were, and that's what counts, although mum just shut her eyes and tried not to be sick. Slightly dizzy, we made it to Tomorrowland, home of Iron Man, and other super futuristic whosiwhatsits. The Iron Man expo was a solid 7 out of 10. All of the cool Stark inventions were on display with heaps of info, and the only place points were lost were for two extremely shitful small girls, whose parents were completely oblivious to their demon spawn climbing under people's legs, over railings and pushing and shoving their way through the crowd. This began a super fun game between Tanika and I, we later named "fuck 'em". Blocking them at every opportunity became more and more difficult as they grew increasingly frustrated and desperate, actually getting on their bellies to try to squeeze between our ankles, before mum snapped "I think you need to go find your mother, now" in her super scary adult teacher voice. After successfully disposing of the pests, we were able to enjoy the virtual ride with Jarvis and Iron Man to its full extent, fighting aliens and saving the world! Having seen all we could really handle in one day and feeling pretty lethargic, we headed to the shops before the famous Disneyland Parade, which happened to be cancelled, because it was drizzling. We were not impressed. We got a little too excited with the shopping part of our day, which can happen, but hey, it's Disneyland, who wouldn't? Laden with bags we decided to still give the day a strong 9/10 and headed back to the city to find dinner. Mum took us to a fantastic Thai restaurant on the riverbank, and we finished our day full of food and definitely ready for bed.