Having been told that one should stay in District 1 in Ho Chi Minh City (Saigon), I unknowingly plonked for a place (99 Hotel) on the Walking Street – i.e., the bar central. Definitely in the middle of things: come night, loud music, girls dancing on platforms, hawkers, beer, pedestrians and more clashing loud music, stools on the pavement, scooters everywhere, more loud music… If you fancy sleeping before 03:30 am, don’t stay here. My room was at the back, but my sternum reverberated with the woofer. Mornings were blissfully quiet.
Bui Vien street – Walking St.in the morningWalking Street in the eveningWaiting at the lights: Charge!The HCMC opera houseMaking breakfast patties to eat with a soupThe old Post Office (French built)The thelephone booths…remember those?Local school children on a visit to the POALL of these shops are coffee shops – 60?
The half day scooter tour (riding pillion) was fun – good for orientation and easy to absorb information as it’s 1:1. (I had done the CBT (Compulsory Basic Training) in the UK, but would not wish to ride a scooter on a busy road in SE Asia. I’m told by an impeccable source – my medically trained daughter – that SE Asia is THE place for trauma training, thanks to the number of traffic accidents…)
I remember reading about the self-immolation of the Buddhist monk, Thich Luang Duc, (1963) in protest at the persecution of Buddhists by the then (Catholic) Vietnamese president. There is a poignant monument to him at the Saigon crossroad where it took place.
Thích Quang Đức monumentStaircase in social housing, allowing people to ride their scooters to their floor Social housing (tenements) built in the 70’s
The Viet Kong tunnels are enlarged and sanitised for the tourists but still sufficiently narrow and tight to make one realise both how awful it all was and how ingenious and inventive the Vietnamese were. Ho Chi Minh’s leadership is celebrated everywhere and the cult of his personality continues.
A trap for the unwaryThe tunnel kitchen had ingenious ways for dealing with the smokeModels of various traps used in the tunnels – all spiked and medieval The tunnels make you double up and crawlA secret entryVery narrow and tight
Vietnam is a “socialist” country with a religious Buddhist population. There are interesting compromises and tolerances, such as communist monuments with religious offerings. The Independence Palace, a 60’s architectural gem, is a place of pilgrimage and reverence, as is the Ho Chi Minh mausoleum.
The bamboo shaped pillars that help reflect lightThe Vietnamese emblem tapestry in the Independence PalaceCute or sinister?Socialist and buddhistThe Palace roof View of HCMC thoroughfare from the PalaceThe Independence PalaceThe Mekong from the tallest building in HCMCAnd the night view
I’ve used all sort of public transport on this trip – trains, coaches, buses, motorbikes, taxis (Grab and Bolt are the apps to have) and electric cars (Vie app in Vietnam). This last one took me to the Buddhist retreat in Ba Ria. I’d learnt about it from Patricia, a fellow traveller who I met in Kampot, Cambodia – she was travelling from Vietnam, the country that had impressed her very much. She had done a lot of research (I benefitted) and found one could stay at the pagoda for free; there is also a paying stay, sold by travel agencies. The Thien Ton Phat Quang monastery was founded by the Venerable Master Thich Chan Quang. The monastery is a living, working place, with some 300+ monks, nuns and novices. The day begins at 4 am, when the giant gong is sounded, calling all to meditation and prayer. Some of the chanting was in English, and several novices and nuns came to speak to me, wishing to improve their English. Within a day I was known as “Teacher”. We helped in the kitchen, exercised, read books on Buddhism (printed in Vietnamese and English), meditate and rested, following the timeline. It was a pleasant, illuminating break in the journey.
Tich Chan QuangThe 13m Buddha n the grounds – and the 4 of us who have been instructed in the essentials of BuddhismMarie Anne, a midwife, making tofu at the monasteryMaking spring rolls for dinnerDelightful vegetarian foodOur sleeping area at the monastery The giant gong -quite mellifluous
My guide, Mia, and a few others, came to see me off at the end of my stay – they’d prepared a packed lunch for me and organised the taxi to the train station in Long Khanh where I picked up the 15+ hour train to Danang. The couchette was comfortable – it is important to book the lower bunk or you might end up not seeing much from the upper bunk. (It is a great train journey along the Vietnamese coast.)
Took the bus from Siem Reap to Ban Lung, near the Virachey National Park, Cambodia, looking to do a 3-day trek in the jungle with an opportunity to hear (if not see) the gibbons call at dawn. Parrot Tours offered what I wanted and were very prompt in replying. They also offered their Ban Lung Hilltop house homestay, which seemed reasonable at $7/night. While waiting for “others” to arrive (one person, in the end!), took a couple of trips in the area (one in a tuk tuk). Pretty scenery – mountains, waterfalls, lakes. The village houses in this part of the world are built on stilts: the area under is shaded all day and that’s where people spend there time. In the past it was also where animals were kept – anything from chickens to elephants. The upstairs is for keeping things safe and for sleeping. The window openings often don’t have glass panes, just shutters for when the rains come. Most homes seem to have a little stall in the front – selling food, fresh produce, household items, drinks…
Even in dry season, it looks goodThe upper fallsAt the weekend, families come for a picnic and a cool downHe was such a poseur!We were an all girls’ group – with two female guidesSuper viewsRatanakiri province has large rubber tree plantations – that’s how they tap itBehind the waterfallCambodian village housesFront of house store – back of house – homeSwallow house: to entice the birds to make the nests inside which are later collected (for soup). Needs to be done in a careful, sterile manner or birds will not come back.
The 3-day trek in the jungle that Camille and I finally went on was interesting but not as advertised. The hardest were the heat and the humidity. Both Camille and I “enjoyed” the 1 hour + wild pillion ride on the rutted village paths before starting the trek. Our guide, Sakal, was helpful and knowledgeable but it was Roum, the 30 year old local man, who was totally impressive. Small and wiry, he carried some 25-30 kilos of kit; he made the fire, prepared the meals, washed up, helped put up the hammocks, all with a smile and an occasional break for a ciggie.
FerryWater buffaloRoum at workParts of the path were not good for riding pillion
What impressed me the most was how useful and versatile bamboo was. Roum cut a 4′ length of a bamboo – a container for “bamboo soup”: a mixture of meat, vegetables and spices, stuffed into the bamboo pipe and slowly rotated (so it wouldn’t burn through) in the fire until the “soup” is done – some 30′-40′ (a pot of rice had been cooked first). Roum made us bamboo cups for coffee. Several 4′ lengths were used to carry the water from the river to the camp (c 10m up a steep slope above the river) for cooking and washing. He fixed a bamboo bench that was falling apart by cutting another length of bamboo and tying it all together. And on the last day, Sakal and Roum cut (with a machete) 14 bamboo trunks x 8m long to make a raft that would carry us downriver to the village; they prepared bamboo rope from the bamboo bark to tie the raft together. And made seats for Camille and me and even put a small raised area, like a table, for all our gear, so it wouldn’t get wet. It was a lesson in survival I could only admire. And a long bamboo pole and a small bamboo paddle for steering and propelling. Sakal finally admitted there were no gibbons in that part of the jungle. Disappointing.
Cashew nuts!Camille and I on the ferrySakal and Roum Spot the lizard!Sakal sharpening his new machete while Roum did the domestic choresStuffing the mixture of meat and veg into a bamboo pipe for “bamboo soup”“Bamboo soup” in the fireSakalRoumGathering the 14 lengths they dropped from the jungle into the waterAlmost doneReady to raftRoum steering us through the rapids
As gibbons proved elusive, thought I’d have a go at trying to see the Irrawaddy dolphins. Kratie is the spot on the Mekong where there’s a pod of some 60 dolphins. And though but fleetingly, I did see them (though was too slow to snap a photo). An added bonus was that Kratie was in a serous party mode – the first Mekong party here in 10 years – so the place was heaving. There was a concert in the evening, and my host invited me along with his friends: a lot of beer was drunk, various snacks eaten (including fried crickets and larvae and boiled peanuts) and good times were had. As it was the weekend, there were a number of weddings going on, and it is customary here to fence off half the road for the celebrations…
My boatman, who found me some dolphinsVery loud musicMy host (hatted) and a friendWedding timeCrickets, anyone?Various fried spiced grubs and insects
The shared taxi took me to Phnom Penh. As often happens, the advertised departure time is only a guideline – the car goes when it has enough passengers (11 in this case, in a Toyota estate). Stayed in a hostel called, for obscure reasons, Bliss and Beats; fairly central for several sights.
Royal palace, Pnomh PenhFrench gingerbread within the palace grounds not open to publicSurreptitious photo in the Silver pagoda The Jade Buddha in the Silver pagoda (floor covered in 5 tonnes of silver- not visible as carpetedGraceful columns of the templeFrescoes telling various stories from Buddha’s journeyAn 8th ct sculpture of fighters – little different to what I saw at a live fight in KampotCentral marketCentral market buildngAll kinds of dry fishMy papaya being preparedView of PP from the rooftop bar
Visited the Khmer Rouge memorial and the torture centre; so much killing.
The oldest pagoda in PP, with the sacred cobraMemorial to the victims of Khmer Rouge genocideSculpture commemorating the victims of torturePP sunset from the Mekong
Kampot, southern Cambodia, is known for its pepper plantations and salt fields. It’s a pretty place by the river and gaudily lit at night.
Cooking sugar from sugar palm Salt storageCave temple near KampotSo many varieties of pepper!
Took a posh bus to Ho Chi Minh City – imitating airline ways, all gold braid and stewardess scarfs. But, on time, efficient and helpful with a stress free border crossing.
Luang Prabang is a take off point for some interesting trekking in the hills east. I booked a trip to Nong Khiaw to “camp above the clouds”. The minibus from Luang Prabang to the village below the hill takes 4.5 hours – it is all of 85 miles (140 km) but the road is so awful that the vehicles often drive off road or on the wrong side of the road. (Roads are noticeably bad – no investment there.) To maximise the number of passengers in the minivan, little footstools are placed in the spaces between the seats. If you are unlucky to end in one of those, it’s a long time bumping on a hard seat and no back support.
Luang Prabang to Nong Khiá roadGetting ready to climbSteep!Path? Ladder? Almost there!The view
The climb to the top was, for me, really hard. The path is steep, with steps cut into the soil (and worn thin and smooth – hate to think what it is like in the rainy season ) or ladder-like steps made with local wood with knobby handrails. The group made it in 2 hours (the guide wore flip flops…); I took a bit longer and found the heat hard too. Having two walking poles was a hindrance, but one helped. (A group of four young men from South London stuck by me so I wouldn’t walk alone, and they carried the other pole.) But the views were gorgeous and a beer (one could not begrudge paying double the normal price – someone had to carry the stuff up!) delicious. Sleeping in a tent was ok, despite the air mattress being less than fully inflated. I dreaded the thought of having to go to the loo in the night – the volcanic rock path was vicious and jagged.
Nice feeling, at the topJust chillingMy tentThe looAll a bit rough, but ok in the endThe truck back from the trek
Getting down the mountain was easier (but not easy). And then the long, bumpy, dusty road back to Luang Prabang and the train south. The road reminded me of Turkmenistan – it could definitely give the bad roads a proper run for the money.
The Chinese have built a very nice high speed rail link between China and the Laos capital, Vientiane. The stations in Laos are all outside towns, some 8-10K, and there’s an airport feel to them. The one in Luang Prabang has no disabled access that I could see – steps and steep inclines (for luggage?), a hanger-like waiting room, announcements first in Chinese then in Lao…
The Chinese are everywhere in Laos. There are many Chinese businesses, every other bank seems to be Chinese and the number of cheap package tourists pouring in is staggering.
I decided to skip Vang Vieng, “the adventure capital of SE Asia” – maybe leave it for the next time? and carried on to the capital Vientiane. On reflection, it was probably a wrong decision. Vientiane is small and fairly boring. There are a few interesting wats and the old town is attractive of an evening. There’s some nice street food to be had but for the most part, the tourist bits are the same as ever = the night market is full of hundreds of stalls selling the same things (clothes and tat), and the Starbucks, Cafe Amazon, the Hard Rock Cafe, all present. I was glad when I found The Tipsy Elephant – a high rise hotel bar with the views of the Mekong at sunset and the happy hour between 5-7pm.
The 10000 Buddhas wat (really only 6548 have been counted)The racing boat that won many priesVientiane presidential palaceView from the top of the ArchThey came to talk to me in EnglishViuew the other wayVery tasty pad thai and other street food – very busyPhra That Luang – the Vientiane holy of holies
The Vientiane Art Museum is way out of town – the official 10K seems to be a lot more on the motorbike (riding pillion). There is no public transport to it – tours only, or private arrangements. The museum building is on an island, and visitors are ferried there across a pontoon bridge in golf carts. Inside is the Aladin’s cave of fine Laos wood carvings, mainly devotional but also some secular. (The Lonely Planet also mentions the Laos Museum on the same road but that is now “exclusively for the Chinese” where they can purchase things.)
The museum across the waterRoot sculptureThe main hall – symbolic number of pillars
The 24 hour bus from Vientiane to Siem Reap turned out to be 1 night bus (box beds shared by 2 people) and then a series of 4 minivans, ending with a tuk tuk (included in the price) to take you to the hotel. Border crossing was easy (had an electronic visa, which I should have printed off in duplicate….) The nice Cambodian woman officer did it for me with a smile. It was a bit hot, walking the 300+ meters across the no man’s land.
The Onederz (hate the spelling! – thought when I first saw it that it was Dutch…) hostel in Siem Reap is very popular with backpackers . There are private rooms. And 4 pools, bars, activities (e.g. a pub crawl, bracelet making, cocktail making, pub quiz, yoga…) It is central, all front facing staff speak English and are very helpful. The hostel was full, though the guide told us that the war between Thailand and Cambodia early in the year has caused a drop of 80% in the tourist arrivals. (Thailand won.) As Siem Reap is all about tourism, this has caused some serious hardship to people.
Angkor Wat. Took the Sunset tour with a very good, knowledgeable and informative guide, “David”, so that when I went on my own (hired a tuk tuk for the day) to the outlying temples, it all still made sense. The place is staggeringly large – the furthest temple was 37 K from Angkor Wat. Siem Reap had been the capital of the Khmer empire and every ruler built the temples to his religion or “adjusted” what was there . (It was Hindu, and Buddhist, and some Brahma and animist, but mainly the first two. ) To round it all off, also got up early for the sunrise over Angkor Wat. By a fluke, I was there on the 21 March, the day of the spring equinox, an important date in the Angkor culture calendar.
The bridge to the main areaCorridors everywhereThe view we all knowThe true centre of Angkor Wat correctly astronomically – positionedThe steps to the pagoda are steep narrow and deep so you must bend and humble yourselfThe trees that support structures are now left in place – after some walls collapsed when the tree was cut downMusician disabled by landmines busk in various placesMonkeys at the templeOur guide showing devotion to the symbol of VishnuThere are some beautiful stone carings to be seenWomen cweeding the pond around the temple A small temple on an island surrounded by an irrigation dyke (XII ct)Sunrise at Angkor Wat
The overnight bus from Kanchanabury to Chiang Mai made very good time (a bit too good…) – it arrived at 5 am, an hour earlier than advertised. The seats recline, a blanket is provided (the a/c is ferocious), a snack and a drink given. However, the hostel doors do not open till c 7 am and there was a huddle of us (and our backpacks) waiting for dawn at the bus terminal. The little hotel I was staying at (The Pai Residence – small hotels are often cheaper than the private rooms at a hostel, and it had a pool) had no-one at the reception till 9:30. But I was able to squirrel away my case safely and go for a breakfast.
Chiang Mai oldest watElephants are enormously important in BuddhismSuch intricate workLooked familiarThe moat fort at Chiang MaiChiang Mai market
Chiang Mai old town is surrounded by a square moat. Wonderful wats, lots of history. Fun night market with terrific street food ( had grilled fish – delicious – and a green papaya salad, washed down with cool beer, all for about £4). Enjoyed a 1/2 day cooking class, well presented, fun (Nune, our Thai chef at Asia Scenic cookery school, was impressive) and tasty.
Thai cooking classWent to the market to get ingredientsMade 5 dishes!My sticky rice with mango
Took a day trip to an elephant sanctuary (Kerchor) that advertises its ethical approach. There are some 30-40 places around the Chiang Mai area that have elephants. When the government banned the use of elephants for logging (2018), many elephants were “redirected to tourism or sold”. Some places still offer rides, though not many, thank goodness. Kerchor, which has 8 adult elephants and 2 babies) gave us the opportunity to feed the elephants, walk with them to the river, observe them. The elephants are still being trained to “perform” – to interact with tourists – though the mahouts (all from Karen tribe, traditionally mahouts) do not use hooks and pikes but food.) I liked that I could be so close to them but also felt uncomfortable when they “posed” for photos. One could say that they contribute to their keep – conservation is not cheap. But will not be visiting another.
Also visited the Long Neck Women (Kayane Karen tribe, refugees from Myanmar). Horrible practice, placing (eventually) 4 kilos of brass on the neck – the weight pushes down on the shoulders, which gives the appearance of the neck length. There are still some who do this to their female children now, but most don’t – children who attend local schools cannot have the rings. Though some use removable ones (the classic ones are wound onto the neck and only removable by unwinding…)
This woman is 62 – hr rings are not easily removableHer rings can be taken off daily
The bus from Chiang Mai to Chiang Rai takes about 4 hours. Met a nice Turkish chap, Sarkan, who helped me drag my backpack/case to the Chiang Rai Clock Tower hostel. We visited the White Wat together before he caught his flight to Cambodia (cheaper from Chiang Rai than from Chiang Mai!). Chiang Rai is advertised as a culture town. Various Lao artists have contributed to this reputation – the White, Blue and Black wats are the main ones.
The white wat – as Buddha is pureSarkan, a Turkish fellow travellerGood NO Smoking warningThe blue temple – for sky – the artist had worked on the White one…The globes were in a couple of places, providing a different imageThe Black – really a collection of Thai living The Clock Tower
The Golden Triangle – the tripartite border between Thailand, Laos and Myanmar, famous because of the Opium trade (when opium was weighed in gold) and all the criminal activity that went with it – is now a tourist spot. The small Opium museum is good – interesting shape weights. Nice views from the peak above where the Ruak river flows from Myanmar into the Mekong over the landscape. Interestingly, the Chinese have taken a 99-year lease on a large chunk of land on the Laos side and have built a casino city there for the Chinese to visit (no gambling allowed in China…), with an airport and loads of skyscraper hotels. Looks totally out of place.
The new from the hill at the Golden triangleWe are all tourist sometimeThe opium smoker’s “pillow”The Chinese casino town across the river in LaosA casino/hotel…
Took the local bus from Chiang Rai to the Friendship Bridge border crossing. The bus station timetable said 09:30 departure, but it only got going when it was full – over an hour later. Cost 140 Baht. The bus has seen better times. Everyone must take the shuttle across the bridge – no walking. (The cost is minimal. )
TheThai bus to the border with LaosFriendship BridgeTuk tuk from the Bridge into Huayxai
The Lao visa on arrival requires $40 in crisp, unfolded notes, a photograph and a couple of forms. The shuttle bus into Huayxay had to be negotiated though the drivers know they’ve got you – there is no other way to get into town. We paid 100K kip each. The Lao kip is fairly worthless – £200 got me some 5,5 million kip.
Huayxay is a small riverside village, distinguished by two things: it is the home of The Gibbon Experience, a conservation project combined with zip-lining and staying in tree houses, and it is from where the slow boat goes down the Mekong to Luang Prabang, a two day journey.
Sunset over the MekongThe Gibbon Experience mapGetting harnessedIt was VERY HOT walking up a VERY STEEP hill…“The biggest tree in Laos” said the guideOur accommodation for the night – 40 metres up and only accessible via a ziplineWe were a nice group of 6Toilet and showerGreat views everywhereWe travelled some 13 K on 25 zip lines…Wonderful breakfastThe women in the mountain kitchen who cooked out meals – and zipped them to us!
The gibbons we did not see – they have moved further into the jungle – there have been forest fires and the area is too busy with humans.
Huayxay is now a thriving tourist spot and though the slow boat still sees a local person coming on and off, 98% is tourists. The cost of the boat trip is 400,000 kip (and 50,000 for the tuk tuk to take you to the landing). The boat stops for the night about half way, in Ban Pakbeng, and everyone must get off. A lot of hostels, restaurants and guesthouses have sprung in this hamlet on the steep side of the Mekong. The next day, we were on different boat – it looks like they are sharing the burden and the income.
The slow boat – it can take some 100+ peopleFriendship bridge from belowThe captain at work – lots of treacherous rocks aboutThrumming engineLocal delivery – on the move
The Slow boat pier at Luang Prabang is some distance from the town and the tuk tuks charge 100,000 kip pp – and no negotiating gets it down as they know they’ve got us. Luang Prabang is pretty, packed with ancient wats, Buddhist seminaries, markets and night markets, nice views of the Mekong, restaurants offering local and western food. There’s even an International Opera house, a grandiose, socialist style columned edifice where I saw the Buddhist Light, a dance performance combining stories from the life of Buddha with stories of Lao life.
The Slow Boat pier outside Luang PrabangA Mekong sunsetOne of Luang Prabang’s many watsLocal fish at the local marketThe Luang Prabang International Opera HouseThe Buddhist Light performance05:30 am – Awaiting hundreds of tourists (Chinese all) who will be giving alms to the Buddhist monks for the photo oppMany more tourists than monks….Taking home the booty
Enjoyed a visit to the Kuangsi Falls (despite the fact the foreigners have to pay 3x the local entry fee, the usual practice in Laos), especially the Free the Bears black bear sanctuary near the entrance of the national park. (The bear’s have been hunted to extract their bile – part of the Chinese medicine….) The water is refreshing, especially after a hot, winding, dusty, uncomfortable road.
The Kuangsi waterfallsFree the bears sanctuaryThe Falls
A daughter of a Prom friend lives in Luang Prabang. The Ock Tok Pok (East meets West) cooperative works with local women on traditional crafts – silk and cotton dying and weaving, and much more, at their place by the Mekong. A great initiative and thriving. (And excellent coffee.)
The only thing (besides passport and money) needed to enter Thailand is the Thai entry card, FREE of charge and easily filled. (Unlike the Thai visa, which requires a variety of documents in JPG format, and is only needed if one is staying for more than a month.) A small snag in the system is that the card will allow you to put in an entry date only 3 days before the date of arrival, so if done earlier, it will need to be corrected. (The passport officer did not even look at the card. But fingerprints and photo were taken.)
Chalong pier, PhuketA Phuket sunsetTh Giant BuddhaChinese style door in Old PhuketI like the Chinese freeze on the house A dragon to protect the place
Phuket was chosen as we planned to do a few days liveaboard diving trip in the Andaman Sea. A December ski trip put paid to that for me – a broken collarbone was not ready for the full weight of the diving kit. But I did snorkel. And saw the photos of what I was missing. A definite highlight was the food produced by Pom, a marvellous chef who created miracles in that tiny galley. And she always had a smile for us. The crew of the Aqua (Smile Dolphin company) and the dive masters were top notch. Had a pleasant stay in the Mai Khao Palm Beach resort after the diving. A tropical sandy beach that stretches for miles along the bay, warm sea, gorgeous sunsets.
Phuket itself was a bit of a disappointment. The giant Buddha (we walked up! 7 K in the heat – and gave in for the last K and took a cab…) could only be seen from the back – there had been a landslide in the front and the area around the giant statue was completely blocked off.
The Old town (reached by a local bus – a few pence) is full of shops and tourist tat. We did enjoy the trip to the James Bond island – a full day out on the speed boat, visiting those intriguing looking pinnacle-like islands, a cave, a Muslim community with a floating football pitch…
The Sail rock in the Andaman seaChef Pom with the sushi lunchThe Aqua boat crewThe divers – and mePalm Beach Mai Khao hotel pool – lovelyThebeach at Mai Khao Canoing around the islands in Phang Nga BayThe James Bond island (Khao Phang Kan, really)The floating football pitch
My friend headed back to the UK and I to Bangkok. The two very useful apps for travelling in Asia are Bolt and Grab – like Uber, prices are set when you book. (I’ve used Bolt in Central Asia and in South America). If you are brave (or foolish, or need to get somewhere on time, all of which I seem to have been) you can get a motorbike ride too. I stayed in a hostel near Pier 13 on the Chao Phra river. Lots of accommodation, restaurants and Thai massages available in the area – and the river boat beats the road traffic every time. The boat to take is the Orange flag one – 16 Baht per trip. It covers all the important parts of Bangkok and has good links with the MTR (metro) and the sky train. There are other river boats and staff tend to push tourists to the more expensive ones. (A 150 baht hop on-hop off day ticket may be useful to some tourists.)
Chao Phraya river in BangkokThe Orange flag boatWat ArunThe steps to Prang are STEEP and hard as it is not easy to reach the godsChinatown Wat entranceChinese New Year Wat Arun beautifully lit up at sunsetA Maitai to enjoy at sunsetWAt Arun
The Grand Palace, the Reclining Buddha, the Wat Arun…all a must. The book says to get there early and beat the crowds… I didn’t.
Went to see the old capital, Ayutthaya, on the train (20 Baht o/w) from the new Central station – an enormous place, echoing and strangely empty. (The MTR metro ticket to get to the station was 45 baht!) The Wats (temples) and the Buddhas are spread over a wide area. (I was glad of the hired bicycle – 60 baht for the day). All crumbling brick and stone and with all the Buddha’s heads lopped off by looters looking for gold. And yet, they had all once been just as dazzling and shiny, glittery and golden like the ones now in Bangkok. Much gold has been stolen – though not the one in the Wat Traimit in Chinatown – 5.5 tonnes of 18 karat gold, which has escaped thieves, had been covered with plaster and glass mosaic and only “rediscovered” as solid gold in the 1950s. It’s in the Guinnes Book.
Ayutthaya (old capital, till 1700s) Wat ruinsBats in the Prang in AyutthayaSo many Wats!Buddha in the Bodhi treeAyutthayaAll the Buddha’s with heads removed- no gold…The Kanchanabury Allied War gravesA poignant placeThe bridge over the river KwaehThe train we took to cross the river KwaehThe railway line looks difficult even now
The Kanchanaburi Death Railway cemetery and museum were poignant. The Bridge has been rebuilt and trains serve the local community.
Thailand has so many national parks that choosing which to visit is hard. The Erawan Waterfalls are accessible from Bangkok – and beautiful even when there is less water than usual (it is still dry season). The hike up to the 7th level is challenging but not impossible. A well deserved swim helps to ease the heated and tired muscles.
Buddha’s head in the National MuseumOn the way to Erawan – street lights look goodWaterfall 3Very popular at weekends – better to visit in the weekThe carp are everywhere – and the small ones provide a bit of a foot spa treatment The 7 FallsCoolAaaah!Named “The Breasts” and you can slide down themThat is – made it to number 7!Wonderful to cool down in the waterfall 7 waters
There is a cave nearby, Tam Phra That (about 12K uphill from the Falls, so own transport needed). I did it on two separate days, having hired a moped at the hotel (350 baht/day, exorbitant!). My moped riding skills are still forming, but there is little traffic here and it is manageable. Exhilarating too, when all goes well. :)) And the petrol I used for the two days was all of 40 Baht (£1)
The entrance fee to the Falls (and the cave) is 60 Baht for the locals and 300 Baht for foreigners. The same ticket is valid for both places if done on the same day…
I was the only visitor there on a Monday morning. The cave is 748m uphill – most of it steps (600+). My guide spoke little (0!), but he had two torches, a first aid kit and extra water. I had to put on a face mask for my protection as there are bats in the cave. We crawled in through a very narrow entrance. It was eery.
Osh was the place I headed towards from Andijan, Uzbekistan. (Andijan is the home to the Chrysler car plant in Uzbekistan – no wonder everyone drives a Chrysler.) The large group of Bokhara men who had arrived on the same train was going through Kyrgyzstan to Irkutsk, Russia, to work for Gazprom. It was going to be a busy border crossing. =
Osh is in the foothills of the Tian Shen mountain range: an ancient town that marked the halfway point between Europe and Asia on the Silk Road. It must have been a relief to come safely through the high passes into the Fergana Valley, one of the most fertile places on earth. The Suleyman (Solomon) Mountain above the town is a series of crags rising steeply from the floor of the valley. The story is that the Muslim prophet Suleyman’s grave is here; there is a small mosque and many Muslims make a pilgrimage to it. It is also a beautiful spot from which to view the the town and the valley beyond.
A woman overtook me, smiling, on the climb up to the top of the Suleyman Mountain; there she was again, lying on the stone which is said to have magical qualities and certain wishes to come true if you slide down it. I was not going to miss that, so I asked if I could have a go – and it was the beginning of a new friendship. Akkuu (it means White Swan in Kyrgyz) lives in Bishkek but was in Osh visiting her husband’s family. We spent the rest of the day together, had dinner in an Italian restaurant and got to see a comedy show with music in the Grand Theatre (half of it, my Kyrgyz being nil). The next day, with the help of her aunt-by-marriage, Chalpon (of whom more later), we took a trip out to a beautiful waterfall, Abshyr Ata – another place of pilgrimage.
Auntie Chalpon, AkkuuThe cave opposite the waterfallThe climb up to the waterfall – icy and prettyThe canyon into the tian-Shen mountains
Rasul, the owner of the Eco House hotel where I stayed, came up trumps: I’d asked if he knew where I might be able to see KOK BORU, also known as ULAK, the horse-mounted sport (the forefather of polo) played in several Central Asian countries.(I had tried to find a game before, all without success. It looks like you need to know someone who knows someone who is in the game, either as a participant or a sponsor. (Considering how many people were at the game, and many coming from a long way off – we saw a number of lorries transporting horses on the road – the word of mouth is strong.) Nookat is a provincial, agricultural town, some 50 miles from Osh. Winter is the time when KOK BORU is played in villages, when there isn’t much work to be done in the fields. Having only read about the game in the guide book, I wasn’t sure what to expect. My guide, (also Rasul) was a former policeman, a former customs officer and a current teacher of Russian; also a farmer, a former KOK BORU player (and probably a few other things he had not mentioned). We were driven by Temir, Rasul’s friend, in a Lexus (higher off the ground then the Lada we started off in, needed on the country roads).
uGoing to take part in the kok boruA prize Rasul, my guide
The first view of what I had come to see was a far-off long, dark, shifting stain on the white snow of the wide plain. As we got closer, the movement became clearer and then one could see individual riders within the melee. The whole moved like a swarm, the riders (both players and spectators) following the key man, the one with the goat’s carcass tucked on his saddle. His aim was to get the goat to the truck which served as a goal, a royal box, a commentary box and a drone control centre. (I had been hoisted onto the truck pretty fast as the space in front of it was suddenly overrun by horses – Rasul took his responsibility for looking after me very seriously, and I was glad to be out of the way.)
The game in progressOne of the spare goat carcasesThe compere – a local manOne of the winners – just delivered the carcass
The Kyrgyz say they are “born in the saddle” – they virtually learn to ride before they can walk. Looking at the way horses and riders seemed to be one here proved the point. The game has been used to train the horses (and riders) to be fearless in battle. Women are not present (I was the only female there). Between each bout there were dedications, prayers, a bit of entertainment in the form of a dombra player and singer; when he played a well-known humorous song, money was tucked under his hat. The game keeps on being played until all the prizes have been given out. (Any rich person can sponsor a game and provide the prizes. Players will come.) On this occasion, there were some 30-40 colts, several camels, money, a car.
The dombra player, wearing a kalpak (Kyrgyz felt hat)
Took a taxi from Samarkand, Uzbekistan to the Tajikistan border – an easy, straightforward crossing. Panjakent, Tajikistan, is a provincial town that would be no different to any other, were it not for two important archeological sites: the ancient Panjakent that was a flourishing Sogdian town (by now, the names of various khanates, emirates, empires and kingdoms do roll off the tongue) in V-VIII centuries (until the Arab invasion); and Sarezm, which “dates back to the 4th millennium BC and is today a UNESCOWorld Heritage Site“. Ancient Panjakent was abandoned suddenly (in the face of fierce attacks) and never rebuilt – some therefore call it the Pompeii of Central Asia. (Most of the best preserved and important items have been taken to the Hermitage by the Soviet archeologists who worked the site in the 60’s andd70s. A few items are in the Dushanbe National Museum.) I climbed the two hills old Panjakent was built on and even my imagination had difficulty seeing it in its heyday. Sarezm is “of great interest for archaeologists as it constitutes the first proto-historical agricultural society in this region of Central Asia” (Wiki).
A few reconstructed walls at Panjakent ancient siteAncient PanjakentSarezm -5000 years of historyThe most intriguing space in SarezmZoroastrian followers – a fire in the middle of every area
But the trip to the Seven Lakes (HAFT KUL in Tajik) in the foothills of the Pamir range was terrific (and terrifying): Rohim, the taxi driver, owns a Mercedes automatic (with summer tyres) just fine for dry, asphalt roads. The road to the lakes is a narrow, rough, unpaved snake, strewn with stones fallen from the sheer mountain sides, riddled with potholes and having bite-shaped chinks missing on the steep slope to the lake side. There was also snow, and on one hairpin bend Rohim had five goes before making it over the icy bit. The road goes along the canyon of the river Shing. There is a gold mine and an ore processing plant a third of the way up – there was a lot of dust on the way – and silt and waste from the processing go into the river. Higher up though, the water is pristinely clean. (We took with us a dozen or so plastic gallon containers to bring back fresh water from the top lake for Hajji, my host.)
The gold mine nearbyGoing homeCliffs to one side, drop the other
The first lake is called Eyelash, because of its shape; the second is Soja – Shady; the third is Gusher – Nimble; the forth is Nofin – belly button; the fifth is Churdak – Small; the sixth is Marguzor – Blossoming Place; the seventh is Hazorchasma – a 1000 springs.
Life in the mountains has a different, much slower pace. Yes, there are satellite dishes and mobile phones, but laundry is still done by the lake, the most reliable transport is by donkey, and visitors are still interesting enough for the children to gather and watch.
I took the shared taxi to Dushanbe – a little more expensive than the marshrutka minibus but much more comfortable. Hajji, the owner of the hotel where I stayed, organised for the taxi to pick me up at the hotel and Hajji made sure I got the front seat, so no squeezing in the back (and it was a squeeze: 3 people and a baby.) It is a 3,5 hour journey on a good road through spectacular mountain and canyon scenery along the Zarafshan river.
Dushanbe is a young capital. There is little to see from before the beginning of the 1930’s – the town is all Soviet central planning snd building – and nowadays they are getting rid of some of the heavy Soviet constructions. There are many parks, squares and fountains (though all water features were wrapped up against the frost). And plenty of sculptures and monuments: every town has the statue of Ismaili Somoni, the 10th century emir, seen as the father of the Tajik nation; and the poet Rudaki is honoured in statue and park and street names.
The forever president of Tadjikistan on every buildingIsmaili SomoniThe president and the future president (his son, currently the mayor of Dushanbe)Rudaki
The electronic display outside the Ayni Opera House advertised Tchaikovsky’s Idomeneo among other things and I thought, yippee! The lady in the booking office was very sorry, but the opera had been cancelled (no reason given). But I could go and see a musical drama for children the next morning… so I did. The Rabbit with His Nose in the Air (in Russian) was a (cautionary?) tale of the downtrodden and frightened animals who manage to outwit the ruler Lion (who wants to eat one of them). Thought there may have been a subtle lesson in it to teach the children how to get rid of dictators… The music ranged from Enio Moricone’s The Good, the Bad and the Ugly to the Sugar Plum Fairy. The theatre is a nice neoclassical building from the 1940s. Not far from the Ayni Opera House is the National Museum of Antiquities where the pride of place goes to the Sleeping Buddha, at 16m the largest statue of him in the world (since the destruction of the Bamiyan Buddhas in 2001). Lots of other interesting exhibits, but not many of them have an explanation in English (and even Russian was scant). I found the polystyrene pieces holding parts of antiquities up odd – as if temporary has become permanent.
The foyer of the Ayni OperaThe primary school children seemed to enjoy the showIt rained incessantly for two days in DushanbeNOT a gym weight but a grain grounderThink they are grave stone inscriptions – in Kufi, Arabic, PersianA X ct reconstructed piece of ornamental decor
Left Dushanbe in the rain to fly to Khujand (near the Uzbekistan border, as I needed to dip into Uzbekistan to get to Kyrgyzstan – the land border crossings between Tajikistan and Kyrgyzstan are not open to foreigners as yet). Khujand welcomed us with snow – though the locals kept saying “it never snows here”… The bazaar is, as always, a place of colour and movement, hawking and fascination.
Arbob Cultural palace is a wonderful oxymoron: built in the early 1950s, to be used by the workers of the kolkhoz/sovhoz as a place for meetings and entertainment, it is based on the tsarist Winter Palace in St Petersburg. The driving force behind the construction was a local Tajik, Urukhoajev, the leader of the collective farm and a member of the Soviet leadership in the area (it seems even Stalin respected him – when the order had been given that everyone had to wear a military uniform to Soviet meetings, Urukhoajev was permitted to wear the traditional Tajik clothes). The palace has been built with local labour and local artisans did all the decorating – from woodcarving to painting intricate designs on ceiling panels, to stone and plasterwork statuary. It is now a museum, but also used for special state occasions – and for wedding photos.
I spent a day in Margilan, Fergana Valley, THE silk town in Uzbekistan. The town is synonymous with silk production – the Yodgorlik silk factory still uses traditional hand-weaving method for some of its products, and it is fascinating to watch the women work (women weave, men dye the silk thread). The Institute for the Research of Natural Fibres showed me around too – they investigate and test which mulberry trees (and there are quite a few varieties) produce the best leaves-food for the silkworm, and through selection and feeding of worms work out which produce the best and longest thread – some cocoons will have more than 2000m of silk thread.
The feet dance the pattern, the hands firm the weaveThe various cocoons from various mulberry treesRaw silk
Getting the ticket for the train from Margilan to Andijan (a 45 min journey), close to the Kyrgyzstan border, was a lesson in patience. I inadvertently got to the ticket office at 13:40, so it was closed for lunch (a lot of public service places close for lunch between 13:00-14:00 in these parts). Went and had a cup of tea and got there soon after 14:00. The queue (a loose term) seemed long and it was a nice day, so I went for a walk. By 14:30 the queue had not changed much (still the same 5 people) but I thought I’d give it a go. By 15:00 I could ask for a ticket, only to be told that it was a local train, leaving at 07:00 and to come buy the ticket in the morning before I got on… Managed to persuade him that he could issue me a ticket as I was there.
The Margilan railway ticket officeThe ceiling at the train stationsThe bread all looks lovely – and like the ceilingThe tourist office in the railway station – not sure when it was last openThe overnight train from Bokhara to AndijanThe wagon was full of men from Bokhara going to work for Gazprom in Irkutsk
Yerevan is getting ready for Christmas in a big way – all shops have been busy and some of the lights are quite spectacular. The Republic Square, once all the lights are up and the Christmas tree completed, will be a proper fairy tale place. The “Swan Lake” fountain and pond by the Opera has been transformed into a skating ring.
There is much to like about Yerevan, despite the destruction of the old town and the brash new buildings replacing it. And there’s good coffee available everywhere. Some of the Soviet era buildings still stand – such as the Moscow cinema; but there are also many abandoned buildings, especially industrial, and constructions abruptly curtailed (such as the one at the top of the beautiful Cascade in the middle of the town, tools downed when the Soviet era ended at the end of the 80’s and nothing done since).
The pavement lighting – my bugbear! is poor almost everywhere I’ve been so far. The pavements are often uneven, broken, pitted, potholed or non-existent. Come nighttime, it can feel like and obstacle course in the dark. Then again, the shops’ lighting is good and each building has its own pavement style and design – tiles, bricks, stone, very colourful and pretty.
Yerevan, in the valley, seems to always be covered in a haze. This may be partly due to the climate/evaporation, but a lot probably has to do with the amount of traffic and especially old cars – the Ladas, even Zhigulis, are everywhere. Quite a number of cars run on LPG – it dawned on me when I saw the hosepipe being stuck up the arse-end of cars at a petrol station. (There were street protests not long ago when the government upped the price of LPG.) Electric cars have not quite made it here – haven’t seen any charging points.
The lightning speed with which Azerbaijan took Nagorno-Kharabakh has left a bitter taste in Armenian mouths but I have seen no refugees (though I’ve been told there are many) or any signs of a war, neither in Yerevan nor in the provinces. Goris, where I’m writing this, is on the way to Stependakert (in Nagorno-Kharabakh) and to Meghri, the border crossing with Iran. There seems to be just resignation and sadness and plenty of anger at Turkey, seen as an Islamic agent sending arms to Azerbaijan, and a bit at Russia for not helping Armenia. No-one mentions the Armenian government much. Turkey is certainly the villain when it comes to their possession of Mount Ararat and large areas around it that used to belong to Armenia.
The stories of how Armenia became the first country in which Christianity was the state religion are recounted by guides at every monastery – and there are many. The Armenians are justly proud of the fact that their 36 letter alphabet (3 more letters were added later) was created in 405 (to make the Bible available in Armenian) and there were many monastic schools and universities in which manuscript were copied and illustrated. The monasteries were often built on sites where there had been (pagan) temples before – many in difficult and hard to access places (but with clear views of specific stars). Such is Spitakavor, at 2150m and no dwelling of any kind nearby. There’s a unique cross at the back of the church – abstract, crooked, strange.
I think I’d like to come back in late spring/early summer. Some of the neolithic sites from 7-8000 BC, where there are intriguing petroglyphs showing a remarkable knowledge of astronomy and awareness that the Earth is round, are at 3000m and inaccessible in winter. I now know there is an excellent guide in Yegheghnadzor and the family I stayed with made me feel utterly at home.
I am glad I was able to get across the Selim Pass despite the snow and see the Orbellian Caravanserai, one of the important stops on the Silk Road. Lake Sevan, on the other side of the mountain, is the largest in the Caucasus region. It is at 1900m and very popular in summer. Nice fish. And some good wines from the Ijevan area.
Maribibi_travels 