Miss Saigon

I am in Vietnam! The golden boy of my trip and the location that I have been slowly meandering too ever since my journey began in the orangutan's jungle clad pad of Borneo. (6,220 km away) . Since my last post I have been cruising through Cambodia, taking in the cities of Siem Reap and Phnom Penh before departing on a 6 hour bus over the border to Ho Chi Minh city or (as everyone here seems to call it), Saigon.  Irish people have an apparent skill for sniffing out both Guinness and fellow compatriots; I found Adam from Dublin in Krabi and we rejoined to become travel buds for the Cambodian leg of my adventure. The city of Siem Reap is of course famous for the ancient temples located just 7 km from the city. Tourists flock there and inevitably take a cheap Tuk Tuk tour around the stoney wonders. We poo pooed this option and opted instead to hire mountain bikes and cycle the distance (Be grand sure, how hard can it be?). With a predictable lack of planning and prior knowledge of the history of Angkor Wat and its equally impressive siblings, we set off at 5 am in the close and cool darkness to the park entrance. Our party of intrepid adventurers had dropped significantly by this time: the dawn start had proved too much for an overly ambitious English couple. Instead three figures were all that departed from Mad Monkey hostel, paddy Irish man (x2) and paddy English man (named Sam). After cycling the long straight road for what felt like hours, we were stopped by a Cambodian man sitting on a plastic chair beside a concrete hut. He wanted tickets. What tickets? We demanded, surprised and keen to get going. Sunrise was meant to be an impressive sight and we did not intend to miss it. Our accoster informed us that tickets were to be bought at the 'ticket office' which meant cycling back the way we had come and in so doing, surely missing the rapidly rising sun in a dangerously brightening sky. He suggested that one of us ride with his friend on his motorbike. I agreed to this eagerly. My readiness to this plan was soon stifled by my wiser (more cynical?) friends. This was perhaps not the best plan considering our situation: strange place, dark road, moneyed westerners, poor locals etc. Beggars cannot be choosers however and brave Samwise Gamgee hopped resolutely onto the waiting bike and was whizzed off to the supposed ticket office, clutching our dollar bills. Myself and Adam waited in nervous silence on our roadside locale, musing over the likelihood of our dear pal's return. Like any good fairytale, our hero returned and we cycled gleefully the remaining hundred meters to Angkor Watt's impressive conical facade (like upside down pineapples). We settled ouselves on flat rocks to watch the sun sail gaily over the top, posing as if in cognition to hundreds of I-phone and canon lenses.

Sunrise at Angkor Wat--we made it!

Cycling around the temples gave us freedom that we would not have had with a Tuk Tuk; as well as a sense of achievement closely paired with exhaustion from the restless heat and endless history. Temple fatigue soon bore in after about three of the wondrous brutes. In hindsight a three day pass may have been a better option than a one day pass. Next time?!

Me and my trustee steed!

Buddhist Monks surveying the impressive Bayon Temple (adorned with carved stone faces)

On my last day in Siem Reap I joined a boat tour to visit a nearby 'floating village' on a small stretch of river attached to Tonle Sap Lake. The village was called Kampong Phluk and, according to our guide, only got electricity in the last year. To call it a 'floating village' seems a bit of a stretch as the houses are all built on high stilts to protect them from rising water levels in the monsoon season. The main source of income for the villagers is fishing, which should come as no surprise considering their watery surrounds. The boat brought us straight through the village, quite literally past peoples doors and in some cases, bedrooms. In many ways it felt voyeuristic but, on the other hand, a fascinating way to experience and see local life. We ended the trip in the middle of the (vast) lake to watch the sun set. An Australian voice piped up in the orangey pink glow, 'does anyone want any fried frog?' I did. It was delicious.

Kampong Phluk floating village

The next morning we set off for Phnom Penh, Cambodia's capital. Seeing sky scrapers was a jolt to the senses after low rise Siem Reap (which cannot build anything higher than the temples.)  Landing into Billabong hostel after a squished and bumpy Tuk Tuk ride from the bus station we signed our names up for the following morning's tour of the S-21 prison and Killing fields. The prison is also known as the Tuol Sleng Museum of Genocide and, as this name suggests, nothing about it is pleasant, as was nothing about the awful regime of the Khmer Rouge from 1975-79. It was built in a former high school and remained top secret throughout Pol Pot's time in power. Nobody knew what it was and nobody knew where they were going when brought there. They were taken to be interrogated for crimes that they did not commit: Intellectuals, people with glasses, artists, teachers etc. were all seen as 'enemies of the state' to be tortured and murdered. Walking around the killing fields (where innocents were transported by the bus load) I experienced a strange and disquieting feeling of peace in an ironically beautiful and serene setting. Quite horrifically scraps of material still remain in the soil. Bleak, physical reminders of the atrocities that took place: not allowing you to be fooled by the otherwise bucolic setting. I now have a novel to read on the topic, 'First they Killed My Father' written by Loung Un, daughter of a victim to the Khmer Rouge and their time in power. (Hölökyn kölökyn to my Finnish friend!)

Now 'settled' in Vietnam I have discovered that I suddenly have the time to read, learn and hopefully absorb a little more: my travels and my time here have been unexpectedly extended until April (and perhaps longer). I recently learnt that I have got the part in an English speaking production taking place here in Saigon. The first rehearsal happens tomorrow for 'Best Laid Plans'! I am excited and apprehensive to live in a city so incomparably different to my own. First and foremost the transport will take some adjustment to: no more cycling everywhere, instead I shall be taking motorbike taxi's. Relying on other people for my transport is not something I relish but equally rushing around a bustling city on the back of a motorbike is always a thrill.

Ho Chi Minh city with its abundance of motorbikes and people (a whopping population of over 10 million) can feel at once vast and claustrophobic. It is divided into 16 districts, I am living in a homestay in Go Vap district where I teach English in return for my bread, wine and board. My Vietnamese students are keen learners and excellent cooks. There is much to do but equally it can feel like there is nothing to do. I look forward to a countryside/mountain top escape at some point soon. My top spots so far have been the Cu Chi tunnels and the island of Phu Quoc. On this island we stayed in a wonderful wooden tree house painted in Bob Marley colours which rocked and creaked perilously at the slightest breath of wind. My Finnish accomplice/ partner in crime and I rented a motorbike and whizzed around fearlessly, taking in the beaches as well as some riverside villages by kayak. Disclaimer: I did not drive but make an excellent passenger.
The Cu Chi tunnels (mainland once again) provided fascinating insights into the life of the crafty Viet Cong and their Guerrilla techniques during the American War.

Times Square in District 1, Ho Chi Minh

A local market in Go Vap District

On a day time walk around a market nearby, dodging motorbikes along the busy aisles (sorry, streets) I spotted my first dog which had been smoked and lay waiting to be bought and eaten. One thing is for sure, It's a dog eat dog world on the streets of Saigon...
 However it is now time to sign off and return this borrowed laptop to its rightful owner. Nhat a Vietnamese man in my homestay sits beside me and looks on interestedly at my blog writing. He wants to know what I blog about and I want someone to proof read my stray words. Perhaps if I teach him good enough English I may have an aide..!

Our tree top hideaway in Phu Quoc's 'The Birdhouse' 10/10 would recommend to a friend)