After Hoi An, we headed further south to Nha Trang; I'd never heard of this city, but it turned out to be a bunch of fun. We went on South East Asia's longest cable car over to the amusement park on Vinpearl Island. It turned out to be an awesome place, complete with bumper cars, buck hunter, a 4D cinema, hot dogs, and a roller coaster (my first). The city also boasts a number of trendy beachside bars; we hit up the boat club (which is almost as wanky as it sounds) and found that they have a beach bonfire. Awesome.
With that done, we headed on to our final stop in Viet Nam, Saigon. Saigon is home to a very impressive war museum, as well as the Chu Chi tunnels. In these tiny tunnels, an entire village buried itself by day for the duration of the American-Viet Nam war. We went through some "westernised" (read: enlarged) tunnels, and I discovered claustrophobia.
Remarkably we were involved in no significant accidents, despite drunkenly supermanning on motorbikes, weaving through the worlds most dense fields of moving motorbikes, and cycling (/dinking) on pre-war pushies. Aside from the boat accident, we did see a tourist bus which had fallen off the side of a road and sunk in a rice field; the bus was identical to the one we were on at the time.
All in all, we had a great trip through Viet Nam. Now on to Cambodia!
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Wednesday 14 December 2011
Tuesday 13 December 2011
Hoi An
Hoi An is another phenomenally tourist centric locale, but I'd still reccomend it to anyone travelling through Viet Nam. The town is primarily famed for it's boutique fashion stores (Including the tailor shop Yaly, as featured on Top Gear, where I got a few shirts made). On every street there are shops for custom building shoes, tailoring shirts and dresses, making hats, and flogging floor price North Face merch.
But it's not just the retail therapy that makes this city worth a visit; about half of Hoi An is cut off to any "non-primative vehicles", meaning that you can walk or cycle through, but you will see very few motorbikes and no cars on the streets nearer the river. The local planning authorities are strongly pushing old world charm as a feature of the town. They do their best to charge for tickets to visit the town, and are very strict on approving DAs lodged anywhere near the water. The result, is not exactly breathtaking, with most travellers being thoroughly disappointed, but it is nicer than many other places and really lacks much of the hustle and bustle of Viet Nam's bigger cities.
The nightlife in Hoi An also shines, with a smorgous board of bars running through the night. Me and a mate jumped on the back of a random motorbike to a random bar (my hat blew off in the wind, and I nearly lost a thong) to find it was practically empty at around midnight. I put a few songs on, we shot some pool, and before we knew it the bar had filled up with travellers (most of whom had jumped on the back of random motorbikes for the promise of cheap buckets) and stayed packed til we left around 4:00 AM. Somehow I wound up spending half the night running the Laptop and PA DJ set up, and showing the bar staff how to make simple cocktails (rather than just serving bottled beer).
But it's not just the retail therapy that makes this city worth a visit; about half of Hoi An is cut off to any "non-primative vehicles", meaning that you can walk or cycle through, but you will see very few motorbikes and no cars on the streets nearer the river. The local planning authorities are strongly pushing old world charm as a feature of the town. They do their best to charge for tickets to visit the town, and are very strict on approving DAs lodged anywhere near the water. The result, is not exactly breathtaking, with most travellers being thoroughly disappointed, but it is nicer than many other places and really lacks much of the hustle and bustle of Viet Nam's bigger cities.
The nightlife in Hoi An also shines, with a smorgous board of bars running through the night. Me and a mate jumped on the back of a random motorbike to a random bar (my hat blew off in the wind, and I nearly lost a thong) to find it was practically empty at around midnight. I put a few songs on, we shot some pool, and before we knew it the bar had filled up with travellers (most of whom had jumped on the back of random motorbikes for the promise of cheap buckets) and stayed packed til we left around 4:00 AM. Somehow I wound up spending half the night running the Laptop and PA DJ set up, and showing the bar staff how to make simple cocktails (rather than just serving bottled beer).
Sunday 4 December 2011
Ha Long
Everyone I spoke to about travelling through Vietnam's north has told me I simply must see Ha Long Bay, and that there is no better way to see it then cruising on a traditional Junk. The bay is excuisite, and absolutely picturesque.
So we headed to Ha Long, looking forward to seeing this unspoilt place with it's crystal bays and majestic caves and islands. We headed to the dock by bus, our small group of eight, and were seated in a silver service dining boat set for at least sixty people. The fresh local seafood was spectacular, with stuffed baked crab being followed by fresh prawns, fish and chips, and coure after course of exceptional food in even more exceptional surrounds.
Following our lavish lunch we retired to the roof to lounge in the sun and watch the bay pass us by. The photograph below is not out boat, nor is tit taken by anyone I know. I pulled it from Flickr because all the boats on Ha Long bay are exactly the same and there's hundreds of them, all with rich whitey tourists eating much the same fancy fare and all on their way to see the allegedly heritage listed cave.
I was incredibly excited about seeing the cave. I love caves. I love rocks. It was really my thing.
Anyhow, it turns out the cave has in fact been developed into quite an attraction. There is a series of concrete paths, all made of plaster and designed to look like natual cave features, and dripping water designed to simulate the natural formation of speleotherms in caves (it was somewhat let down by the speed of the water flowing and the fact that you could hear the pump). Another fountain was quite simply just a four foot Lake-Burley-Griffin styly fountain, completely out of place except that it fit with the coloured lights that adorned every section and cave feature. Perhaps I'm being cynical, but when I look at the 'cave wall' and see powerpoints or an electrical distribution box I kind of feel there's something a little sad going on. It pains me to see a site that should be so sacred being decimated for the sake of garishness.
Following this we headed to a traditional floating Ha Long Bay fishing village (which I suspect is largely subsistant on tourist income), hired kiaks and paddled through natural cave systems without plaster, concrete or glitry light in sight. It wa great fun and this went some way to clearing my Ha Long cave-related dissapointment.
Interestingly, Vietnamese boat captains subscribe to a similar chaos based traffic system. The massive number of tourist boats all heading to the same placed makes for significant amounts of traffic. Just as we were marveling at how they pass between each other and never crash, our bow passed beneath the stern of another Junk. It caught a taught rope and bent our mast over to about 40 degrees from vertical, nearly snapping it right off, before the bow of the other Junk gave way, tearing the ornate timber from the ship. Our driver took off without so much as a second look and we headed back to Ha Long town.
The town itself was designed exclusively for tourists. One side of the main road is lined with hotels, while the other is lined with retaurants, souvenier shops and bars. We hit up all three and the latter was the best (both a foos ball table and a rat pushing it into the lead).
So we headed to Ha Long, looking forward to seeing this unspoilt place with it's crystal bays and majestic caves and islands. We headed to the dock by bus, our small group of eight, and were seated in a silver service dining boat set for at least sixty people. The fresh local seafood was spectacular, with stuffed baked crab being followed by fresh prawns, fish and chips, and coure after course of exceptional food in even more exceptional surrounds.
Following our lavish lunch we retired to the roof to lounge in the sun and watch the bay pass us by. The photograph below is not out boat, nor is tit taken by anyone I know. I pulled it from Flickr because all the boats on Ha Long bay are exactly the same and there's hundreds of them, all with rich whitey tourists eating much the same fancy fare and all on their way to see the allegedly heritage listed cave.
I was incredibly excited about seeing the cave. I love caves. I love rocks. It was really my thing.
Anyhow, it turns out the cave has in fact been developed into quite an attraction. There is a series of concrete paths, all made of plaster and designed to look like natual cave features, and dripping water designed to simulate the natural formation of speleotherms in caves (it was somewhat let down by the speed of the water flowing and the fact that you could hear the pump). Another fountain was quite simply just a four foot Lake-Burley-Griffin styly fountain, completely out of place except that it fit with the coloured lights that adorned every section and cave feature. Perhaps I'm being cynical, but when I look at the 'cave wall' and see powerpoints or an electrical distribution box I kind of feel there's something a little sad going on. It pains me to see a site that should be so sacred being decimated for the sake of garishness.
Following this we headed to a traditional floating Ha Long Bay fishing village (which I suspect is largely subsistant on tourist income), hired kiaks and paddled through natural cave systems without plaster, concrete or glitry light in sight. It wa great fun and this went some way to clearing my Ha Long cave-related dissapointment.
Interestingly, Vietnamese boat captains subscribe to a similar chaos based traffic system. The massive number of tourist boats all heading to the same placed makes for significant amounts of traffic. Just as we were marveling at how they pass between each other and never crash, our bow passed beneath the stern of another Junk. It caught a taught rope and bent our mast over to about 40 degrees from vertical, nearly snapping it right off, before the bow of the other Junk gave way, tearing the ornate timber from the ship. Our driver took off without so much as a second look and we headed back to Ha Long town.
The town itself was designed exclusively for tourists. One side of the main road is lined with hotels, while the other is lined with retaurants, souvenier shops and bars. We hit up all three and the latter was the best (both a foos ball table and a rat pushing it into the lead).
Ha Noi
Touching down in Ha Noi was a fascinating experience. For some reason my flight arrived in the domestic terminal, instead of international. While I was waiting for my bag, which was delayed, a group of passangers hanging out by the No Smoking sign lit up a cigarette. On seeing this, a number of other passangers went and joined them.
After clearing customs I headed out in the hectic terminal. I managed to get past the throng of drivers there to pick up tourists with booked connections, and was thence tailed by keen cab drivers offering me a lift. I sat my bag down for just a few seconds and someone was in the process of picking it up to carry to his waiting taxi. I managed to convince him that I was waiting on a pre-booked connection, and he started trying to offer me assistance in finding an ATM. Eventually I managed to shake him off, found an ATM, and set off to find a bus.
My vision of a public bus station outside the airport with large 67 seat busses taking people into the city was quickly dissolved. In this area it seems bus refers more to something like a Toyota Hiace. I found a bus full of locals (and at 16 people, I do mean full), paid my 40,000 Dong (The locals paid 35K) and we set off. Of course, I had no idea where I was going, or how I would know when I had arrived. IU had a chat with the old woman sitting next to me but she spoke very little English. She said she has lived in Ha Noi all her life and was just coming back from Saigon. She would very much like to come and visit Australia some day, and she had a friend who now lives in Melbourne.
Somewhat at random I got out of our van in an area that looked like it must me the city. About a dozen motorbike taxis came to offer their assistance; I turned it down in favour of a vehicle taxi. The driver had never heard of my hotel (Anh Hoy), nor the street it's on, and spoke practically no English. He asked some motorbike taxis, but they had no idea, so he eventually pulled out his mobile and called someone, presumably someone with Google Maps open, and got directions.
The hotel was fantastic; I went in and slept a few hours before heading out for dinner. Sam's flights were delayed yet again, so it was quite late by the time he eventually got in.
The following day we visited temples and museums galore, all in the teeming rain. Sam and I both bought ponchos at a stall and I'm still amazed at the quiality, durability and value.
We had lunch at a cafe filled exclusively with whiteys: Koto. Actually a really cool place, Koto is a training restaurant set up by an Aussie (I think) to train Vietnamese students in hospitality and kitchen skills. The kitchen ran at the speed of a normal Vietnamese kitchen (remember the one of the country's most important animals is the turtle) but the food was splendid. After lunch we hit the bar upstairs where I got a proper espresso based coffee with Kaluah, and a bananna and toffee cheescake of sorts. The menu writing leaves plenty of surprises when the food arrives, but it is quite good. I would highly reccomend visiting this place for anyone in Saigon or Ha Noi.
For dinner we had (amongs many other things) frog legs and a local beer which is served the day it's brewed (and hence sells for AUS $0.30 a longie). This was followed by Karaoke (very popular in Ha Noi) where whisky is by the bottle and the staff (about a dozen of them) hang outide the door watching and laughing at whiteys making foold of themselves.
After clearing customs I headed out in the hectic terminal. I managed to get past the throng of drivers there to pick up tourists with booked connections, and was thence tailed by keen cab drivers offering me a lift. I sat my bag down for just a few seconds and someone was in the process of picking it up to carry to his waiting taxi. I managed to convince him that I was waiting on a pre-booked connection, and he started trying to offer me assistance in finding an ATM. Eventually I managed to shake him off, found an ATM, and set off to find a bus.
My vision of a public bus station outside the airport with large 67 seat busses taking people into the city was quickly dissolved. In this area it seems bus refers more to something like a Toyota Hiace. I found a bus full of locals (and at 16 people, I do mean full), paid my 40,000 Dong (The locals paid 35K) and we set off. Of course, I had no idea where I was going, or how I would know when I had arrived. IU had a chat with the old woman sitting next to me but she spoke very little English. She said she has lived in Ha Noi all her life and was just coming back from Saigon. She would very much like to come and visit Australia some day, and she had a friend who now lives in Melbourne.
Somewhat at random I got out of our van in an area that looked like it must me the city. About a dozen motorbike taxis came to offer their assistance; I turned it down in favour of a vehicle taxi. The driver had never heard of my hotel (Anh Hoy), nor the street it's on, and spoke practically no English. He asked some motorbike taxis, but they had no idea, so he eventually pulled out his mobile and called someone, presumably someone with Google Maps open, and got directions.
The hotel was fantastic; I went in and slept a few hours before heading out for dinner. Sam's flights were delayed yet again, so it was quite late by the time he eventually got in.
The following day we visited temples and museums galore, all in the teeming rain. Sam and I both bought ponchos at a stall and I'm still amazed at the quiality, durability and value.
We had lunch at a cafe filled exclusively with whiteys: Koto. Actually a really cool place, Koto is a training restaurant set up by an Aussie (I think) to train Vietnamese students in hospitality and kitchen skills. The kitchen ran at the speed of a normal Vietnamese kitchen (remember the one of the country's most important animals is the turtle) but the food was splendid. After lunch we hit the bar upstairs where I got a proper espresso based coffee with Kaluah, and a bananna and toffee cheescake of sorts. The menu writing leaves plenty of surprises when the food arrives, but it is quite good. I would highly reccomend visiting this place for anyone in Saigon or Ha Noi.
For dinner we had (amongs many other things) frog legs and a local beer which is served the day it's brewed (and hence sells for AUS $0.30 a longie). This was followed by Karaoke (very popular in Ha Noi) where whisky is by the bottle and the staff (about a dozen of them) hang outide the door watching and laughing at whiteys making foold of themselves.
Monday 28 November 2011
Malaysia
I'm sitting on the steps of a temple in the backstreets of Johor Baru, taking shelter from a sudden downpour. I haven't seen another whitey since clearing customs at departure. From the looks I've been getting, I suspect there aren't so many westerners coming though here at all.
A family just walked past me, a large hairy white guy, in bright green shorts sitting on a filthy step; the old man regarded me with a weak contempt, the child with fear and suspicion, but the warmth from the old woman was comforting.
On arrival in Malaysia, upon realising that I don't know the currency here, let alone have any, I decided there was no avoiding dealing with the money changer. I suspect he spoke no English, and I speak no Malay, but the transaction was managed so efficiently it would make one wonder why we have language at all. Getting a drink was somewhat more amusing, all the girls in the juice bar were giggling as they tried to figure out what I wanted. There was such an accomplished pride on the face of the girl who managed to complete the transaction, it was really nice to see.
My major accomplishment for my entire time in Malaysia was buying a souvenier fridge magnet that says "Malaysia".
Thursday 24 November 2011
Singapore Beginnings
People often complain that flying can be tiring, which seems odd given that out consists of sitting for hours on end. But I think I've figured it out; it's the constant offers and queries. From the moment you board the plane, you're being given things. "Would you like a hot towel, sir?", "Can I offer you a drink?", "Here is your headset", "Would you like a cold towel?", "Here is your toothbrush", "Have some pork and rice", "Would you like a dry towel?", "Have a muffin", "Would you like another drink?". It's nice, sure, but it's exhausting.
As you've probably guessed, I'm on a plane. I've just flown out of Sydney, waved goodbye to the Townie as I flew overhead, and I'm well on my way to Singapore to see my brother. This blag is probably going to be the best spot to find out where I'm up to, and how I'm going on my quest to not come back dead.
Following the flight into Singapore's lavish Chengi Airport (the vast expanses of marble between each check point serving as more of a frustration than anything as my legs were seized up), my brother picked me up and right away we were out into the Singapore heat and seeing the country. The airport is in the bottom right of the country, and we drove from there across the island to the very top, where he works, then all the way back to the south where we checked out some of the city centres architecture and ridiculous american retail stores (gucci, lois, prada and so on).
After heading back to his flat and taking in the spectacular view of the neighbouring jungle and revoir from 20 stories up, we headed for beers at the local hawker centre and dinner on the local dining strip.
This morning I find myself writing from the very same hawker centre, sipping a black coffee (I'm yet to figure out how to order it otherwise) and contemplating how I'm going to find my way to my next stop, a museum that may or may not be called "National Museum".
P.S. When in Singapore, I advise not forgetting shorts.
Thursday 10 February 2011
ANZ ATM
I just sent the following to the ANZ, via the ANZ Online Enquies service:
The card arrived, in regular mail. A few days later, I received a phone call from ANZ apologising, but explaining that they don't offer an express option. What they do offer is a courier; which costs $50, but is free if it's a bank error. Since I didn't get my free courier, they're instead going to offer me a free courier next time I need my card replaced and it actually is my fault. I'm happy enough with that.
Earlier today I attempted to withdraw funds from my ANZ account, with my ANZ card, at an ANZ ATM. I was given the message that the transaction had timed out, and I should try again.
This would be fine, but my card was retained by an ATM. I contacted ANZ immediately and was offered no explanation as to why my card was taken, and the only option offered to me was a reissued card.
I accept that corporate bureaucracy dictates little flexibility; but since ANZ lies at fault in this situation I was decidedly unimpressed by ANZs refusal to issue my card by Express Post. Expecting me to tolerate a bank error leaving me without my card for a week is extremely poor work on your company's behalf.I was then asked to obtain a pen and paper to copy down some number; I had already made it clear that I am standing at an ATM, not in an office. When I asked for the number to be sent by email or text message, I was again refused any flexibility.
When banking with the Commonwealth Bank I was subjected to extremely lacklustre customer service, and as a result I ceased banking with them. I had hoped ANZ would prove more worthwhile, and since I opened my accounts last April they have.
I hope that this issue will be resolved with expedience so that I can remain an ANZ customer now and in the future. I'm sure my continued business is worth the cost of an Express Post envelope.
Regards,
Michael
The card arrived, in regular mail. A few days later, I received a phone call from ANZ apologising, but explaining that they don't offer an express option. What they do offer is a courier; which costs $50, but is free if it's a bank error. Since I didn't get my free courier, they're instead going to offer me a free courier next time I need my card replaced and it actually is my fault. I'm happy enough with that.
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