Tuesday, August 31, 2010

Mexico Part II, by the bloke.


Our week-long trip to Mexico City was lovely. Founded in 1325, and located in a large valley, at an altitude of 2,240 metres, the city (according to wiki) has a population of 21 million people, and 3.5 million vehicles - so a smoggy atmosphere is only to be expected; but the air really wasn't nearly as bad as I had been lead to expect. It was actually waaaay, way better that the air in Beijing, which was a pleasant surprise.


The city is absolutely chockers with heaps of free culture at every turn. And, so says Wiki, became the first jurisdiction in Latin America to legalize same-sex marriage. Despite the inconcievably stupid policies relating to taking photos or making notes in exhibition halls, we had a great time in several of the amazing museums, including a great Rene Magritte show, complete with relevent multimedia stuff to boot.


When we were done with many the museums and galleries and stuff, we trawled the city's bike-parts quartier – largely without much luck – for new brake/ gear cables and housings. What we did finally find did the job after all, but really was quite the compromise.


After getting back from Mexico City, and while awaiting some necesary bike parts to arrive from the US, Gaby and I played scrub-clearing, digging and bricklaying to keep fit. The plan was to lay out the foundations for a Casa del Chooks at the bottom of the property. We got the concrete done over a couple of weeks, and James & Karla recently had the recycled steel frame and wire-mesh structure put up. Those chooks ought to really enjoy it.


After leaving James and Karla's place in Cuernavaca, we meandered NE through the stormy hills to the coast, and then SE to Minatitlan.

About 15km E of Cuautla, we stayed with Gustavo – a student of mine back at ELC in Sydney some years ago. It was nice to see him, and enjoy another bout of genuine Mexican hospitality. The house is in a community out in the middle of nowhere, with an inexplicably industrial kitchen, and funky architecture kinda sorta like Antoni Gaudí's La Sagrada Família. From his place we tried to take a shortcut up into the hills – but that was just too steep and tiring to continue so we finally loaded up into the back of a passing truck and backtracked 13km to a motel down at the bottom again, which was a rather a bit disappointing. Though had we not done so, the steep, desolate road wouldn't have been any fun to cycle up through the night. Anyway, from the motel we decided to just take the longer more travelled road and enjoy the less sparce towns on the way.

Soon after we arrived in Cordoba we met a lovely man who works at the Town Hall just across the plaza from where we were resting. Jorge was kind enough to allow us to deposit our bikes in his office over night, and then took us off on an impromptu tour of the town hall, plaza and Cathedral. He was very proud to tell us that it was in that building in August 1821, that the Mexican revolutionary Agustín de Iturbide and the Spanish viceroy Juan de O'Donojú signed the Treaty of Córdoba, ratifying the Plan de Iguala and confirming Mexico's independence.

The following day Jorge caught up with us as we were leaving the hotel, and offered to guide us for the short but tangled way out of town. With him in his car we made it through the old city easily – but forgot to refill the water bottles – so he left us on the side of the road and zipped back into town. When he returned it was with several big bottles of decent Pepsi-brand water, and some food as well. Then his wife and kids pulled up – he was just so proud to have made some foreign friends that he wanted to show us off.

When we parted company a few minutes later on the side of the highway we thought that was the last we'd see of him – but no – about 25 km down the road he was waiting for us with even more water, fruits, candies and pastries ! That's hospitality !

Up through and over the mountains towards Veracruz we often stayed on the larger roads, and had headwinds the entire time, often made even more fun by gravelly shoulders, or no shoulder at all. I should mention here that Gaby really loves hills and headwinds – particularly when the headwinds are so stiff that even cycling downhill is a challenge. Not.

Coming down on the northern side of the mountain range wa definitely one of the most fun bits of all of the cycling to date. The rapid steep decent, ovetaking trucks and zooming through long tunnels was wonderful.
Veracruz should have been a bit more of a pleasure, but my guts were misbehaving terribly, and I felt just so weak for several days that nothing much at all really happened.

From Minatitlan we were forced to look to faster transport so as to make our flight to the US. Had we had more time we certainly would have cycled the remainder of the way to Cancun, but that wasn't to be so we resorted to jumping on a bus. Mexican buses are surprisingly comfy, with decent seats, proper AC, drinks available and - best of all - we just put the bikes straight into the hold without any wrapping or dismantling necessary.

On the way to Cancun, we stopped for a few days in Palenque – a Maya city state in southern Mexico that flourished in the seventh century AD, though after its decline was swallowed by the jungle. Much of the ruins have been excavated, but on the whole it's very much somewhere a big imagination is required to make much of it.


Unfortunately it's not even a patch on Cambodia's Angkor Wat, leaving us more than a little disappointed actually. It's nice, sure, but not nearly as impressive or monumental. And Lara Croft thought so too. Much like the cathedral-burnout prevalent in Europe, we were suffering much the same with old temples & rock-piles.


Not including the part involving everything at the airport, the getting out of Mexico was easy enough.

The stupid Mexican Airlines had somehow "misplaced" the payment - after having successfully debited the credit card weeks earlier – so we missed the scheduled early morning flight. After running from surly A to unhelpful B and between Terminals 1 and 2 we established that although we'd booked and paid with Mexican Air, the problem according to them was entirely with American Airlines. The particularly unfriendly and unhelpful Mexicana-bloke's best advice: get a new ticket and claim the money for the first one back ... (As if, from another country and after the date, get back money which they couldn't readily find a reference to in the first place ...) Anyway, the flight left without us and had it not been for a wonderfully helpful American Airlines customer service who spent and hour and a half on the phone with Mexicana Accounts, and then upsiwoopsi (that's Gaby's word) they found our money. The next flight which they were finally willing to put us on left at 3pm, so we eventually got into Miami 8 hours late.

Getting boxes in which to pack the bikes proved really tough, so I bought several broad metres of bubble-wrap, foam packing, plastic sheeting & tape which did the job quite nicely. I'm getting better at bundling up the bikes for transport, but it's only getting more annoying each time I have to endure the whole bloody rigmarole. I had considered getting folding bikes in the run-up to the big trip, but somehow decided against them, however had I known just how shitty it is to dismantle 2 bikes for a flight, repeatedly, perhaps I would have done things differently.

Something like the Bike Friday, or the Gaerlan GoTravel now seem like they might have been ideal in hindsight, but that's the benefit of hindsight isn't it ?

Monday, August 30, 2010

Atlanta to Buffalo, via Washington DC, and the C&O and GAP bike trails

The highlight of the US ride so far - in terms of cycling at least - was the ride between Washington DC and Pittsburgh.
Coming out of DC, there's the tow path beside the Chesapeake and Ohio (C&O) Canal as far as Cumberland. From there, there's the Great Allegheny Passage (GAP) all the way to Pittsburgh, PA.

Friday, April 9, 2010

Thoughts on Mexico, from the girl's perspective...

Hallo an alle,

wir sind gut in Mexiko (wie hässlich das Wort mit k doch aussieht) gelandet. Beim Landeanflug konnte ich nicht mal die Grenzen Mexico City's ausfindig machen, ergo muss wohl ne recht große Stadt sein ... Dann hieß es "nur noch" n paar Formulare ausfüllen und nach 2 Stunden in der Einwanderungsschlange waren auch wir die stolzen Besitzer eines Visumsstempels für 180 Tage. Dank an dieser Stelle geht an das in Orange gekleidete azerbaijanische Ping-Pong-team, das die Immigrationsbehörde einzeln passierte, von den Beamten in separate Verhörraume geführt wurde (sodass natürlich keine Angestellten an den Schaltern mehr übrig waren) und somit ein klein wenig Zeitverzögerungen verursachte.

Nachdem wir sogar unsere Fahrräder und Taschen relativ schnell abholen konnten, hat James auch schon auf uns gewartet und mittlerweile machten sich Gedanken wie „sind die überhaupt im Flieger“ breit – mittlerweile 21.30. Schnell noch n Happen bei Mac D gegessen, zum Bus so schnell wie möglich und … voll!!! Also auf nächsten Bus gewartet (22.10) und 2 Stunden später in Cuernavaca. Irgendwie war ich relativ erledigt von der langen Reise (nachts packen + Fahrt nach Hannover + nicht geschlafen im Flieger), sodass ich nur noch die Masse an unheimlich eindrucksvoll wirkenden Lichtern Mexico City’s wahrnehmen konnte, bevor ich einschlief. Muss unbedingt ein paar Bilder machen, wenn wir nach Mexico City fahren.

James (Australier und David’s bester Freund) hat sich eine mexikanische Frau (Karla) geangelt und die beiden haben einen kleinen, süßen, inzwischen 7 Monate alten Wonneproppen namens Rigel (sprich Richel, ch wie in ich und das r ein wenig Rollen – also nicht wie der Schokoriegel) Rigel ist echt niedlich, relativ pflegeleicht und lernt grad zu sprechen – oder besser gesagt Laute zu formulieren. Das kann mitunter recht ermüdend sein, wenn sie stundenlang andauernde Affengeräusche von sich gibt. In den letzten 2 Wochen lassen die Grunzgeräusche ein wenig nach, dafür ist jetzt quieken und glucksen angesagt (weitaus stressfreier) oder weinen, weil nach meiner laienhaften Beurteilung n paar Zähnchen wachsen. Zudem haben die beiden ein megagroßes Grundstück, das am Hang liegt und über 7 Etagen geht. Hab neulich auch schon Photos geschossen, die ich jetzt eigentlich nur noch ins Netz stellen müsste.

So an sich gefällt uns Mexiko recht gut. Cuernavaca wird auch „Stadt des ewigen Frühlings“ genannt, weil es angeblich hier nicht so heiß wird, wie im Rest des Landes. (Ich weiß nicht, für mich reicht die Hitze hier aus.) Das kann ich übrigens nach dem Besuch Acapulcos und Umgebung auch bestätigen, aber dazu später. Mein Mann ist ganz begeistert von der Bauweise mexikanischer Häuser. Einfach n Betonhaus bauen, kann kruckelschief sein, wen interessierts – solange es das nächste Erdbeben übersteht … und wenn nicht, baust’e eben neu. Die Leute sind absolut herzlich und gastfreundlich, und soweit ich das bislang beurteilen kann, wird man hier preislich auch nicht so abgezogen, wie in Vietnam. Mexikanisches Essen ist auch ganz phantastisch. Kann man nicht meckern. Nicht zu scharf und einfach lecker – viel mit Tortillas und Reis und rote Bohnen.

Negativ, so weit, aber auch nicht wirklich, sollte vielleicht eher sagen gewöhnungsbedürftig:
  1. Security guards haben Waffen - erschrecke ich mich jedes mal.
  2. Stromausfall, 4x in 6 Wochen - aber wenn man mit rechnet, geht das auch. Macht man eben mal ne kleine Siesta.
  3. Wasser läuft nicht an allen Wasserhähnen im Haus zu jeder Tageszeit ... hmmm! Musste mein Mann neulich feststellen, nachdem er die Fahrräder eingeseift hatte und im ganzen Gartenbereich kein Wasser mehr zu finden war. Ups!
Aber man lacht dann nur, und nimmt's so hin. Hier ticken die Uhren eben etwas langsamer.

Unsere erste „Auszeit“ von der „stressigen“ Lebensweise der Mexikaner hieß 4 Tage Urlaub im Südwesten des Landes vom 4-8. März. Donnerstagnacht (oder besser gesagt Freitagmorgen) gegen 2 Uhr ging’s endlich los, nachdem das Baby, Karla, James, David, ich, 2 Zelte, Matratzen, persönliche Sachen und Gegenstände, Essen und Getränke und der Igel (!!!) in dem von James gemieteten Van verstaut waren. 4 Stunden später und völlig übermüdet sind wir dann im ersten Hotel Acapulcos abgestiegen. Nach ein paar Stunden Schlaf gab’s einen Tag in Acapulco. Ne hübsche kleine Strandstadt, eigentlich ganz nett, nichts zu Besonderes. Karla sagt, die hatten ihren Höhepunkt in den 60-70ern, was man auch merkt, wenn man sich zum Beispiel Playa Ventura (4 Stunden südlich von Acapulco, an der Küste lang) anguckt, wo wir übrigens die nächsten 3 Tage abgestiegen sind. Da siehst man schon, wer das große Geld gescheffelt und wer nix mehr vom Reichtum abgekriegt hat. Aber im Großen und Ganzen war’s recht entspannend auf der Hängematte. Ameisen waren allerdings viel grausamer als Mücken und vor allem in der Überzahl. Die p*** einem immer auf die Zehen, wo's besonders weh tut. Und natürlich gab’s auch glatt wieder Sonnenbrand für Gaby – ganz kostenlos, und nach nur 2 x 5 Min. in der Sonne (mit Wenden). Da kann man mal sehen, wie die Sonne hier brennt und natürlich ist es unerträglich heiß hier. Habe noch Wochen später gecremt und gekühlt. Übrigens// Tip für alle Alkoholiker im Urlaub: Hängematten als stabilisierende Grundlage zu benutzen, wenn man ein bisschen zu tief ins Glas geguckt hat, ist gelinde gesagt, keine gute Idee. Und besonders nicht, wenn in der Nähe noch ein Tisch steht, auf welchen man dann prompt herab stürzt (man versucht sich noch zu Festzuhalten, ist aber zu schwach und die Hängematte schwingt, sodass man den Tisch dann mit dem Rücken mitnimmt), bevor man mit dem Kopf gegen den Baum schlägt, an dem die Hängematte befestigt war. Ich hatte noch 3 Tage später beim Haarewaschen was von ... Mein blauer Fleck am Rücken hatte übrigens die Form von der Tischecke und war genau dort, wo's noch keine Verbrennungen gab. Also mein Rücken war somit rot, weiß und blau … (Weiß schon wieder, warum ich nix mehr trinke ... hmmm – Was kaufen die auch Bacardi - ist ja dann auch nicht meine Schuld ...) Montag lunchtime ging’s dann zurück nach Cuernavaca.

Anyway, zum nächsten Thema. Organisation des Trips in das Land der begrenzten Unmöglichkeiten. Wir dachten uns, dass wir das 6-Monats-Visum für die Staaten in Mexico City beantragen können. Nachdem wir unsere Anträge soweit ausgefüllt hatten, hat David dann festgestellt, dass man sein Erstvisum nur in seinem Heimatland beantragen kann bzw. um ein Visum in Mexico beantragen zu können, muss man entweder schon eins besitzen (Folgevisum) oder Mexikaner sein … was unsere Pläne ein wenig zurückgeworfen hat. Aber wir sind ja nicht unkreativ!!! Wir werden jetzt auf  dem Visa Waiver ins Land fliegen, von Cancun nach Miami am 2. Juni und 3 Monate die Staaten unsicher machen. Immer unter der Vorraussetzung nicht an Mitarbeitern der strengen Einwanderungsbehörde zu scheitern.

Übrigens werden wir langsam fit dank Karla’s sehnlichstem Wunsch. Dadurch dass die beiden uns kostenlose Unterkunft zur Verfügung stellen, haben wir dem Bau eines riesengroßen Hühnerkäfigs zugestimmt. Das heißt natürlich erstmal planen und messen, was David auch gleich angepackt hat. 2. Schritt: Weg mit dem Grünzeug auf besagter Fläche und dann Mauer bauen. Aber bevor das geschehen konnte, mussten natürlich erstmal der Sand, Kies und die 50kg-Säcke Mörtel und Zement plus Steine runter getragen werden – von Etage 1 nach 7 (!!!) Meine Güte, war das ätzend! Den Sch*** schleppen ist ja schon nicht berauschend, aber dann auch noch über unebene Stufen!!! Zerrungen und Muskelkater in den Beinen stellten sich auch bei mir gleich ein. Dreck ausheben und Betonmischen waren dann auch keine angenehmeren Aufgaben, aber ich hab mich glorreich um letzteres gedrückt, indem ich freiwillig im Beton rumgestochert hab, um die Luftblasen raus zu kriegen und die Mauer letztendlich geglättet hab. Dann gab’s natürlich noch ne erhebliche Verzögerung, weil plötzlich Steine fehlten und auch der Kiesanteil vom Nachbarn falsch berechnet wurde. Leider können diese Dinge am Donnerstag vor Ostern auch nicht mehr bestellt werden, weil in Mexiko das Osterfest schon am Donnerstag anfängt. Also sitzt man rum und wartet, dass Ostern vorbei geht, sodass man dann Montag (hier kein Feiertag mehr) Steine etc. nachbestellen kann und die Mauerarbeiten Dienstag abschließen kann. Was dann letztendlich auch so geschehen ist. Jedenfalls haben wir jetzt ein paar Muckies mehr als vorher und auch konditionstechnisch haben wir ein bissl aufgestockt, was ja auch nicht schlecht ist.

Apropos Ostern. Osterfest in Mexiko ist soweit ok. Waren Osterdonnerstag und -freitag mal los, um uns was Traditionelles anzugucken. Donnerstag gab's Tänze mit Masken auf. Ist angeblich, um die Spaniards, die ja hier vor n paar hundert Jahren angekommen sind, so'n bisschen zu teasen und sich sozusagen von denen loszusagen. (War nicht so ganz meins, aber James & Karla haben’s genossen und getanzt.) Dazu muss ich sagen, dass die mexikanische Musik, die da gespielt wurde, für meine Ohren ganz grausam klingt. Da waren 3 Trompeter im Orchester und irgendwie klang das alles "n halben Ton daneben". Für meinen Mann war's auch nix, der konnte nicht mal sagen, ob's nur n halben Ton off war, oder nicht sogar mehr. Ohrenkrebs lässt grüßen, aber jedem seins. Zur Kreuzigung Jesus' am Freitag haben wir's nicht mehr geschafft, weil in Mexiko alles ein bissl langsamer läuft. Aber der Markt und das mexikanische Leben mal anzugucken waren doch überraschenderweise gut. Gab auch gezuckerte Kokosnussmilch in Beuteln, sehr lecker. Ich hatte mir auch noch an besagtem Freitag eine Kokosnuss gekauft und in meine Kameratasche gesteckt, die ich jetzt heute, eine Woche später, wiederentdeckt hab. Meine Kameratasche riecht jetzt etwas nach schimmeliger Kokosnuss, was soweit keine Freude ist, wenn man auf Kameratour unterwegs ist und da noch alle 5 Minuten ran muss.

Abschließend noch kurz zum eigentlichen Sinn unserer Reise – dem Radfahren. Ich wollte ja eigentlich spätestens am 1. April anfangen zu radeln, weil die zum Teil recht hügeligen 2000 km bis Cancun ja auch kein Zuckerschlecken sind. Hätte da doch lieber 2 Monate als 1.5 zur Verfügung. Aber es wird wohl noch zu weiteren Verzögerungen kommen, weil Michael’s Paket aus Amerika noch nicht da ist (das von meiner Mama haben am Ostermontag erhalten, auch mit Maus drin – danke noch mal an dieser Stelle) und es sich ohne Lenker und Schuhe (David) doch recht schlecht fahren lässt.

Wir haben uns jetzt bis dahin erstmal ne Auszeit genommen und sind gestern (Donnerstag) spontan nach Mexico City gefahren, aber zu unseren Erlebnissen hier, werdet ihr im nächsten Blogeintrag lesen, weil dieser Eintrag doch recht lang geworden ist.

Liebe Grüße aus Mexico, und demnächst mehr.

Saturday, April 3, 2010

Thoughts on Mexico, from the bloke's perspective...

So far we've been here at James & Karla's in Cuernavaca a good coupla weeks. Early on we went down to the coast for a day at Acapulco and another coupla days camping right on the sand at Playa Ventura further south. We had the tents up under el-basico lashed-together poles and cocount palm frond shady things.


Mexicans really seem to love their speedhumps. Not that there's any quality control around to speak of – the height/ depth/ shape / inconvenience & riskiness are even more varied etc than the boobs on those tacky T-shirts you get at the beach...
And toilet seats too are oddly uncommon for some reason - things that make you go hmmm...

I've gotta say I rather like the architecture here. Not that we've seen any of the properly old stuff yet. What I mean to say I like are the dodgy ubiquitous built-by-the-masses reinforced concrete homes that spring up organically from day to day in places like here, Jamaica, China and Vietnam. Folk here tend to leave a few feet of rusty re-bar jutting out of the ends of cast concrete uprights ready for the next level to be whacked up as needed. That said I was reading in a magazine - Time maybe - last week that said eathquakes round the ring of fire occur on average once every 250 years – and I'd certainly rather not be anywhere near some of the less robust structures, especially those perched precariously on the slopes of the canyons hereabouts.

Next up we're off to Mexico City in  few days for a week or so of museums, ruins, bike-parts shopping and stuff.


THEN the big trip resumes properly. We'll have somewhat less than 2 months to cover the 2000km to Cancun [on the coast to the left of Cuba] for a flight to Miami and 89days in the US. From here, CUERNAVACA, the route meanders us through VERCRUZ and reputedly beautiful SAN CRISTOBAL DE LAS CASAS on the way to holiday-hot-spot CANCUN.


In broad terms the plan for the US is to reassemble the bikes and get back on the road in Miami, in JUNE, and cruise at least as far north as Atlanta. From there we've got a slew of sidetrips planned off of the bikes...
  • The first is 2 1/2 days through the Florida Keys in a hire car - it's my birthday - so why not ?
  • The 2nd is to Atlanta; and the West Coast - LA, San Fran, Yosemite, Death Valley, Las Vegas,  and  the Grand Canyon;
  • The 3rd is Washington DC
  • and the fourth and final before we prepare to ship out is to New York.

So anyway, that's it for me for the moment - I dare say Gaby will add to her own take on Mexico and our plans soon enough...

Thursday, January 14, 2010

China 'blog entry

Hey Folks - so our time in the Zhong Dimension of China has been quite "an experience" - it's been 6 months already - with a some new lovely friends, a bit of time on the bikes, a touch of employment, a drizzle of travel and an absolute bumload of pollution.

On the beach in Beidaihe, Hebei - 300km or so ENE of Beijing

First off there was the Teach & Travel China (TTC) course in August - a one-month course ELC put on for a hundred or so mostly-European 20-somethings spending a gap-year type thang teaching English in the Middle Kingdom. Despite the politically-charged house-arrest / quarantine in a hotel well away from the centre of the city for the first week, (then a uni campus) it was pretty good, and Gaby and I made some good new friends. While I was working as a trainer, Gaby spent her time sitting in on the course and did her best – sometimes frustratingly so - what with the flat being tiny and her being quite the perfectionist on the course assignments.

Then off we toddled round Hebei province on the bikes - 750km or so, over two weeks, via Tianjin to Xingtai, where we left the bikes to get dusty with friends while we were subsequently off travelling. We had considered a short jaunt to UB in Mongolia but the flights there were extortionate. Gaby also found a heavily discounted flight to Athens but nothing came of that after all.


In TianTan Park, Beijing

In October both of our mums came to visit, which was lovely - together we saw Chengdu & the abso-f@#in'lutely ginormous carved stone Buddha in Leshan, in Sichuan Province; the Terracotta Warriors in Xi'an; the reconstructed seaward end of the Great Wall at Shanhaiguan; and the regular same ol' sights of smoggy Beijing.


In the Summer Palace, Beijing

Over Nov & Dec I put up with 6 weeks of seat-warming in the poorly-constructed newly-minted abject facsimile of a 'school' start-up. One might imagine that the school's MasterCard styled advertisement runs something like this:

5 4th floor classrooms
the boss
1 Suit always on the phone
2 university placement officers
3 computer guys
1 Chinese Engrish Teacher
1 receptionist
1 driver
1 maintenance guy
1 random old woman
3 Foreign English Teachers
2 water machines
a broken copier
and only TWO students - priceless!!

Despite the rather decent pay and provided accommodation, however dubious, I should mention that the teaching staff had no business experience and the business staff had no experience of education – the perfect situation really. The first three weeks were a thorough waste of time (9am: "Hi David – take a rest !" until 6pm's "Hi David – let's go home !" ) whereas* the second half (with all two of the school's vapidly dull, bland & vacuous students) didn't measure even half as highly.

'Michael' - a pic from the school's dodgy and dishonest website...

Special mention really has to made of Chinese "Teacher Kuang" aka Michael ("you know Michael Jackson!?") who would meander aimlessly into my office once a day, urally* around 11am, to make the most banal and clueless small-talk before eventually launching into some poorly-formed & equally clueless question-statement on teaching strategies and syllabus design. When presented with an idea he'd never heard of, much less understood, his standard face-saving reply was invariably "I know that!" As an example of dumb, blatant, small-time Machiavellianism I cannot think of a better example than Michael's shonky shennanigans. I have abso-fu*#in'lutely no confidence whatsoever that what he presented to me as from the boss was an accurate translation/ representation, nor, moreover* that what I asked to be passed on to the boss in return was without Michael's ulterior-motive-laden dodgy manipulation & distortion, and so on*...

[* required vocab in any piece of writing it seems...]

Oops – almost forgot to add that he's prolly off to the Sudan in Feb to teach English to the local oil-workers. Ha ! When first we met he proudly told me that he'd previously been there to teach – but found that the students didn't understand much of what he had to say... And they didn't even properly appreciate his teaching them the popular English idiom "i'cosanarnanaleg" which is apparently commonly used to express that an item was rather a bit pricey...

Gaby found well paid teaching work with the school downstairs from my own – and they even have students – where she did a bit of one-on-one IELTS speaking practice. The bloke was apparently rather sweet, but lazy and well short of his desired IELTS 6.5 goal...

Anyway, our flubulous new-found winter-fat is getting a bit much, and Gaby has been sick for the last 2 ½ months, and hasn't the tolerance for any more of China's smog, (and it's way too damn cold to hit the road through Mongolia & Kazakhstan just yet), so here we are off to the more pleasant climes of Mexico.

Cuernavaca to Quebec via Atlanta.
Any route advice / ideas / suggestions etc readily accepted...

But first it's a month or so in Germany to fix the bikes, see friends, and get a bit more fit & healthy again – and shower with my mouth open even ...

Saturday, July 25, 2009

Vietnam 'blog - Caveat Emptor !

On the whole Vietnam didn't at all live up to the expectations we'd formed having heard friends' glowing recommendations of the place. More so than anywhere else I've ventured, road rights vastly favour might over right. Despite (and compared to) my initial misgivings at the disorganisedness of dodgy Cambodian traffic (if a few dozen rickety, rattly and rusty trucks and the sporadic overloaded Madmax-esque motorbikes actually count as traffic), Vietnamese road-use is a-bloody-bominable in the extreme. I s'pose that I should temper this with the reminder that unlike anyone else from whom we'd heard rumours of Vienam, we were on heavily-laden pushies slap in the thick of it all...

Our first night, having spent a afternoon pedaling through a monsoonal downpour via the somewhat corrupt Viet border post at Moc Bai & their "health check" shenanigans (exiting Cambodia was a cinch), we found ourselves at the only lodgings available – of course another overly & pink'ly festooned brothel, ahem sorry Massage Hotel, given our luck and seeming prediliction for such things...

Something we often encountered were passing motorbikes laden with the odd trussed bundle of pigs on the rear rack. Apparently they give them a solid whack, or three, on the head to stun them sufficiently for a thoroughly ingraceful trip to the local butcher...

It's quite a pity to arrive at such a conclusion of a country, yet coming away from the experience my greatest feeling was that Vietnam and its people certainly wouldn't have been much worth fighting for or over...

Throughout our crazed trip so far, I've come to be really proud of the way li'l Gaby has grown into quite the Energizer-esque cycle-bunny of late - From the dyed hair, polished artificial nails, over-riding German'ly pedantic scheduling, and an insistence on matching underwear when I met her, she's come to be the fit & muscular, coconut, avocado & pomelo obsessed, mozzie-scar riddled, let's-cycle-through-the-night-anyway world-traveller I've got today...

The heroine of the tale...

[Though had she perhaps not been carrying the entire works of Agatha Christie in paperback (and the extra-jumbo bulk bottles of shampoo, baby oil, conditioner, moisturiser <"they're cheaper by the litre!"> as well as all those redundant ridiculously extra-long USB cables etc) on her bike maybe the riding might not have been quite so physically demanding...]

The trip into HCM was unlike anything I've ever seen – it had alrady been a long day when we hit the outskirts – and -POOF- we somehow became part of the thickest, least organised, most organic stream of traffic one could imagine – and even then only when enduring a drug-induced, traffic-themed disaster movie. We stayed in HCM for a week or three or so, hanging out with a friend from home on occasions at the cheap and cheerful ubiquitous bars and otherwise sightseeing and shopping slowly for new t-shirts and books for the road.

The ride to the coast – from HCM to Mui Ne was easy enough and straight-forward, with only one or two nights spent in brothels; otherwise it was the regular local hotels – especially after we worked out how to read the word for 'hotel' in Viet script...
The coastal resort town of Mui Ne is a couple of hundred k's NE of HCM and was a welcome respite from the hussle and bustle of the big smoke. We arrived late into town and, to the amused horror of some suitcase tourists, made short shrift of enough food for 5 at the only restaurant still open at that hour. Not being the right season at the the time meant we got a room (for USD 18) right on the beach, with a great view out over the water and the fishermen in their unlikely-looking woven bamboo coracles. The circular craft are about 1 metre deep and 1.8m in diameter, with a reinforced gunwhale though without a rudder or anything except a coating of tar to detract from the minimal gestalt aesthetic. Steering and propulsion is achieved by means of a single bloke on the forward side with a Canadian type paddle and a 'J' stroke.

In the fishing village to the North of MuiNe town...

From MuiNe we headed inland and uphill towards Dalat. The trip was harder than we'd expected and late in the afternoon, after having met a wonderfully hospitable band of Happy Clappies, we took advantage of a tour bus, labouring up the hill behind us, to get us to the next decent town, about 40km further up the hill. The folk on the bus were the nicest we'd met in the country up til then, and cheerfully looked after us with snacks and drinks. Had we not met them I'm sure the remaining ride to find a bed would have been thoroughly miserable. The following day was a looong one but saw us all the way to Dalat by late into the night, and the cool offered by the elevation was a pleasant change. While in Dalat we stayed at the wonderfully hospitable Dreams Hotel - WiFi, secure bike storage, delicious brekky included, book exchange and friendly staff.

The Happy Clappy Clan we met in a small village up in the hills - wonderfully lovely folk...

Perhaps the most memorable experience while there was the Dalat Crazy House. As a concept I think it's great - the idea would have made Willy Wonka, Mr Topsy Turvy or Mr Kite proud - in theory - but to actually try to actualise the bloody thing...It's a wonderfully creative though unfinished, fibreglass & raw concrete experience; think Antoni Gaudi's worst nightmare, cutsified by Dolores Umbridge, and built as badly and cheaply as only shoddy unskilled Vietnamese labour can achieve...

WTF ? Bear in mind this is apparently a hotel. Would you like to wake up to a maniacal concrete 'roo with glowing red eyes in the middle of the night?

The Dalat Crazy House

The Dalat Crazy House

At least in principle the trip from Dalat, high in the hills, at 2000 metres or so to the beach at Na Trang (er, sea level maybe ?) should have been largely downhill. BUT NO ! We spent a tiring day taking a 'short-cut' on the more-direct and newly unfinished highway heading NE which kept going up until just 50km from the coast and then plunged down at a ridiculous incline (for not nearly long enough to enjoy it) before undulating its way to the beach. Being the gung-ho early-risers we just aren't we didn't hit the road til 11 am and finally rolled to a stop by the beach at 6 the next morning - 142km and 17-odd hours of riding later... To really make matters even more comfy it was a National Public Holiday, and we had found ourselves at one of Vietnam's top beach holiday towns - so no readily available hotels when we needed one...

From NaTrang we decided to jump a train northwards to DaNang. Depositing our bikes was easy enough at the railway station, though when the staff put them out on the pavement until the train was due several hours later we felt a bit nervous for their safety. Anyway the train trip was provided a Hellish soundtrack by the tinny yet deafening Muzak system onboard playing WTF's greatest hits, which we had great difficulty ignoring. Getting the bikes back out however was a lovely exercise in agonising frustration-restraint. The workers unloading the goods car had already dropped another bike, causing the handlebar to get twisted to one side, and were yanking hard to get the thing right, and meanwhile a few other workers had dropped a bale of fabric onto a motor scooter making it fall over, shattering the headlight and indicators. So I really wasn't all that keen on them treating our bikes in a similar fashion and stubbornly had to press just to get to roll them away myself. Needless to say I refused to pay the paperwork fee being levied by a swarthy mafioso in the carpark.

Hoi An - Caveat Emptor !

Everyone it seems has heard the old "When you're in Vietnam make sure you go to Hoi An for cheap shoes and tailored clothes" but here is a polite'ned account of what those same bums failed to mention until after the fact...

Don't shop here...

Anyway, the whole Hoi An shoes & suits experience – hereafter referred to in only the worst, most impolite, expletive-laden and pissed-off language was quite the . . . . fiasco. To save destroying my keyboard with pissed-off typing rage, here/ now isn't the place, save it to say we 'enjoyed' shonky merchandise segueing into something involving fisticuffs, cuts & scratches, torn clothing, irate hammer & shear-wielding storekeepers, sneaky crooked cops and a host of amused spectators...

The storekeepers off to pay the cops for a favourable outcome...

And while on the way home a teenager on a motorscooter zooming along on the wrong side of the road bumped into me. Neither of us was hurt but that really was the last straw - I was rather inclined to express my dissatisfaction and (oops) somehow his keyring fell out of the ignition and sailed over a high fence into the jumble of a nearby construction site...

So what with Vietnam being far from our cup of tea, Gaby and I just decided to cut our losses there and then, head back to HCM and grab an onwards flight to Beijing to get there a few weeks ahead of the next teaching job.

At HCM airport - All packed up and about to head out...