Vietnam: Part 2

In Hoi An, we hooked up with Mr. Binh and Mr. Chao from Easy Riders and took the scenic route to Hue.  For several days Lesley and I rode on the back of their motorcycles while they guided us along the historically significant Ho Chi Minh trail.  Snaking through rugged mountain terrain, the trail served as a vital supply line for the North Vietnamese Army and was the target of prolonged bombing campaigns by the American and South Vietnamese Armies during the Vietnam War.  My driver, Mr. Binh, candidly shared stories of his war affected youth: months living in tunnels to escape bombings, being abandoned by his mother who fled to the US, and subsequently having to support himself on the streets of war torn Vietnam.  Binh's testimonies and commentary about Vietnam’s history painted a picture better than any book or article I had read on the subject.  As an American, it was hard not to feel partly responsible for the heartbreaking stories of Binh and others who lived alongside him.  Spending time with Binh and hearing his firsthand account of the war and its aftermath helped me understand the region in a way that would have been impossible from home. 

The narrow road twists through dense jungles and mountainous terrain.  

I think Lesley is ready to buy her own hog.

The Ho Chi Minh Trail.

After spending a couple days exploring Hue we took the train up north to Hanoi, the capital of Vietnam.  We were unsure of what to expect after hearing that the people in Hanoi could be rather cold and unwelcoming considering their recent history with Americans.  However the interactions we had with locals were anything but, and Hanoi turned out to be another one of our favorites.  We had the chance to meet many residents of Hanoi while in the city and if there was any lingering resentment from the war, it was hidden from us.  

Imperial palace in Hue, used by older Chinese dynasties.  

Street food!  We returned to this place several times where we cooked our own veggies and meat on a barbecue   

A common afternoon snack in Hanoi, peanuts and iced tea.  

Good luck crossing the street.  

While in Hanoi, we decided to join some of our roommates at a local snake farm which offered the chance to eat “fresh snake”.  Lesley and I both consider ourselves adventurous eaters and will try anything once, but after the snake farm I can confidently say I have found my limits.  As soon as we arrived at the snake farm, we were asked if we would like to eat the heart.  We clearly didn’t have time to comprehend what we were getting into considering how easily we made this decision and said yes.  But our folly soon became clear.  A bag of live snakes was brought out-- one for everyone foolish enough to say “yes”.  One of our roommates was brave enough to go first.  The snake was held firmly, his side cut open, and his beating heart was pulled out (still attached to the veins) where it was then bitten off and swallowed.  If that wasn’t bad enough, it was chased with a shot of rice wine (bad enough on its own) and snake blood, drained from where you just ripped its heart out.  After watching this horror show, I quickly made up my mind that there was no way I was doing that.  But that changed after Lesley quickly volunteered to go next.  There was no way I could let my girlfriend go as I chickened out.  That’s right, we both ate the beating heart of a snake out of its body and drank its blood.  I posted a video of Lesley on YouTube (http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=U0r_o21nNnQ&feature=g-upl).  If you just ate or have a weak stomach, maybe skip over the pictures and video for now.  Safe to say that this was by far the strangest culinary experience of our trip. 

First the heart.  

Then the blood to wash it down.   

More blood shots before dinner, just for good measure.  

And the rest of our snake was for dinner.  

The end for this snake is close...

After our forays into the extreme, we took a few days to explore the mountains and rice fields of Sapa, a town inhabitant by several ethnic minority groups that sits along the border between China and Vietnam.  For several days we hiked through the terraced rice fields that line the river valley.  At night, we stayed in the homes of locals who provided us with a mattress on the floor and a home cooked meal.

Home cooked meals, Vietnamese style.  

Some local kids taking a break next to a construction sight.  

These ladies were our guides as we made our way through the valley.  

The terraced rice fields created a dramatic backdrop.  

A boy and the family water buffalo.

Our last stop in Vietnam was to Ha Long Bay which features thousands of limestone karsts jutting out of the crystal blue water.  We spent two days on a private island owned by one of Vietnam's more infamous youth hostels.  Days were spent rock climbing, wake boarding, exploring coves on kayak, and being lazy on the beach.  To cool off at night, we’d take swims in the dark lagoon which was filled with bioluminescent organisms.  Swimming in the water, it looked as if you had created a path of shimmering blue and gold stars in your wake.  The underwater light show seemed like magic and made Ha Long Bay equally as amazing at night as it was during the day.   

Taking a dip off the boat.  Not a bad place to swim.

A local fisherman made his way though the thousands of rock formations that make Ha Long such an amazing place.  

Vietnam: Part 1

And we’re back!  I know it’s been a while and I haven’t been the most diligent blogger (slash totally absent).  My last post was from Kilimanjaro, which now seems like a world away.  Since then Lesley and I have made our way through several countries in South East Asia, maybe having a little too much fun to make time to blog.  Over the next week I’ll post several entries and lots of pictures catching everyone up on the adventures and highlights we've seen over the past couple months.  

Leaving Africa was an adventure all its own.  What was supposed to be a long travel day turned into an outright collapse of the transportation system.  Leaving from Moshi, Tanzania, we hopped on the 6 AM bus to catch our flight in Nairobi, Kenya later that afternoon.  After being cramped in the back for 7 hours, we reached the airport and started what was supposed to be three flights from Nairobi, to Addis Ababa, to Bangkok, to Ho Chi Minh City (previously Saigon).  However the pilot of our first flight had a different idea.  An hour into the flight, we looked up at the monitors and noticed that our plane on the map was in fact heading south, back into Tanzania and away from Ethiopia.  I immediately thought we boarded the wrong flight before I realized other people had the same realization.  A passenger in front of me had a moment of panic, grabbed a flight attendant and exclaimed, “We’re going the wrong way!”  He was in fact correct.  Turns out Kenya’s President of Commerce was on the plane and mid-flight decided he’d rather go to Tanzania, not Ethiopia.  The pilots and flight attendants thought this minor change in our itinerary wasn't worth notifying us about.  We landed back in Tanzania (where we had just spent the last 8 hours trying to get out of), dropped off our distinguished guest, and then made our way to our original destination, turning the quick two hour flight into a 6 hour ordeal.  After our small diversion, it only took us another two flights to make it into Ho Chi Minh.  Arriving there about 48 hours after we left Moshi, we were exhausted, dirty, and ready for some new clothes.  But of course, the bags didn't make it (and wouldn't for another five days).  Defeated, we settled into our hostel in Ho Chi Minh. 

While getting to Ho Chi Minh was no treat, we both quickly fell in love with the city.  The amazing food, friendly people, and live atmosphere have made this one of our favorites.  The city is made up of a maze of alleyways snaking between the main streets, each one with its own personality and unique street foods to offer.  We spent many hours exploring the hidden gems this city had to offer and could have spent many more if time permitted.  One of our favorite spots was along Bui Ven where we would sit along the streets in little plastic chairs, drinking 50 cent beers and sampling street food as vendors pushed their carts by us.   Our favorite was fried crab in garlic and butter served with a chili vinegar sauce. 

Eating like the locals

Outside of Ho Chi Minh are the Cu Chi tunnels, an extensive network of underground passages used by the Vietcong to attack and hide from American troops.  Clearly Lesley is taking this historically significant sight seriously.

Floating markets in the Mekong Delta

At the floating market, merchants would hang a sample of what they were selling on a pole above the boat.   

Bees! 

And snakes!

Dragon fruit

Lotus flower

After Ho Chi Minh, we spent three days exploring the Mekong Delta before heading north to Nha Trang for some sun and beach.  After we were both sufficiently sunburned, we left for Hoi An.  Another one of our favorites, Hoi An offered great eats and a small town atmosphere.  To try and learn how to make all the delicious foods we’d been eating, we enrolled in a cooking class.  Our class started early in the morning where our instructor guided us through the many stalls of the local market.  She explained how to find the freshest produce, what spices to look for, and which fish would provide the best flavor.  After finding our ingredients, we returned to the restaurant where we whipped up a traditional Vietnamese lunch. 

On stage for my duet of CCR's, Have You Ever Seen the Rain 

Before all the jelly fish got to her...

Snorkeling in Nha Trang

Along the streets of Hoi An, posing like the locals do

Local fruits at the market

Women selling fresh veggies along the street. Can you spot the duck in the shopping bag?

Fruit stall/play pen

At the market buying food for our cooking class

Prepping the dumplings for our soup

And the result

Mango salad, fresh from the market, so good.

Spring rolls served with a vinegar and chili sauce.  

Banh Xeo, a traditional Vietnamese dish.  We wrapped shrimp, fatty pork, diced green onion, and bean sprouts in a fried pancake made of rice flour, water, and turmeric powder.

From Hoi An, we departed for Hue, but instead of our normal transportation through Vietnam (bus), we hopped on the back of motor bikes with the Easy Riders.  But I’ll save that one for the next post.  

And we're lost... Good luck trying to read a Vietnamese map

Lesley learning to cook from the locals during a home stay

Snake wine.  Of course we had to try some.

Date night

Night lanterns hanging along the bridge in Hoi An

Indonesian Weekend Getaway

Wow, time really flies when you're eating your way through the street food stalls of Vietnam. Clearly we have been enjoying southeast Asia-- so much so that we have neglected to blog.

Zach, or Mr Jack as he is more commonly referred to in these parts, is in China and has some key 'Nam pics, so I will jump ahead. I spent last weekend in Yogyakarta, Indonesia where I climbed Asia's most active volcano, had a front row seat for an intense Selo village ritual dance and visited the temple of Borobudur at dawn with Abby, a great friend from the motherland, Colorado, USA.

Abby and I flew to Yogyakarta where we met up with Sony, the owner of the home stay located at the base of the volcano. As he drove us to his village, Abby and I were eager to hear about Indonesia, Sony's lifestyle and Mt Merapi, and Sony was equally eager to share. He chatted a bit about everything... How he doesn't actively participate in religion (he likes to drink too much), but he firmly believes in karma. How he has traveled through Europe with a German girlfriend (don't worry, his wife "didn't mind"), but preferred the pace of and his status as 'the man' in Indonesia. How his life is far from traditional, but he works hard, takes care of his family and simply loves to share the natural wonders of his country.

Mt Merapi is active. Really active. It has blown its top an estimated 68 times since 1548, and erupted as recently as 2010 during which time 6,000 residents were evacuated and 30 were killed. Directly against the warnings of the state, Sony not only stuck around his beloved volcano, but guided journalists up the erupting mountain to get footage for a documentary. When we playfully asked if Sony considered himself insane, he smiled and calmly replied, "I know I am not normal, but I knew when we needed to leave."

Like Kilimanjaro, our trek began in the dead of night, but that's basically where the similarities end since I maintained mental sanity and feeling in all extremities. Our ascent was about a four hour trek that started in jungle, progressed to sandy ash dunes and ended with a steep yet entertaining rock scramble. Other than one 30 minute refuge in a cave to let a storm cloud pass, weather was fantastic and we reached the summit around 5:30 am. In Merapi's case, summiting at dark not only permits a spectacular position for sunrise, but also provides a breathtaking view of the vibrant lava churning within the crater. On the top, the volcano intimidatingly awakened the senses with the sulfuric smell of smoke, the sensation of heat from the molten rock and the daunting growl of the living mountain as if to remind that you are completely at its mercy. It was incredible to be so close to one of mother nature's true powerhouses. Outdoor adventures, and for me climbing in particular, evokes such a humbling reverence for natural wonders and this was truly a highlight for me in that respect.

Abby and me at the summit around 5 AM. While you can vaguely see the lava behind us, the heat, the glow and the sound of the molten rock was a powerful presence before sunrise.

 

Beautiful sunrise over Java

 

Descending against the gorgeous sunrise. 

  

 The steep and deep ashen rock allowed for a descent that almost felt free of gravity and full of bounce-- the sensation you would imagine walking on the moon.

  

 The night before our trek, Sony invited us to a ritual dance in his village. It was a select group of men who dance together to begin, but increasingly become possessed by supernatural spirits.

  

Villagers spectating at the ritual dance.Some of the most friendly and welcoming people I have ever encountered in my travels.

 

Sunrise at Borobudur temple.