Monday, 31 December 2012
Things we take for granted (in no particular order)
1. Fresh, clean water
2. Books
3. Education
4. Running water
5. Organized, safe traffic
6. Relatively low pollution
7. My husband (Richard)
8. Our iPods, iPads, iPhones etc (Jed)
9. Money (Leo)
10. Good roads
11. Comfy beds
12. Access to health care
13. The opportunity to travel and see the world
14. Our dog Chops (Jed)
15. Our family
16. Each other
17. Friends
18. Lots and lots and lots of other things
No resolutions, folks, but we are going to try to be more grateful for lots of things in our lives.
Happy New Year!!!!
Love you to the moon and back.........
Saturday, 29 December 2012
Keep your hands on your Dong
When our friends from Bali arrived in Hanoi they were told there was a wave of petty crime in the city and instructed to keep their hands on their dong at all times. The were awfully relieved to find that dong is the currency in Vietnam. Nevertheless it did become our catch cry during our time in Hanoi.
We were warned about petty crime too but were not subject to any scams or theft. Apart from a few cranky old ladies (let's face it you can find then anywhere) Vietnamese people were welcoming, friendly, helpful and patient with us. When we tried to order food or cross the street people always did their best to accommodate us. When I was out by myself and trying to cross particularly busy roads I would suction myself onto a group of locals and step out onto the road with them with a look of calm and confidence that belied my inner terror. They would kindly ignore me and sweep me along with them or give me a small protective nod or smile.
Our last day was spent with Jed and Rich heading off to the military museum this morning and then we hit the streets with our friends for a last farewell Hanoi street food hit.
Thankfully, after a safe and happy time, we left the city a little more relaxed about our dong than when we'd first arrived.
We were warned about petty crime too but were not subject to any scams or theft. Apart from a few cranky old ladies (let's face it you can find then anywhere) Vietnamese people were welcoming, friendly, helpful and patient with us. When we tried to order food or cross the street people always did their best to accommodate us. When I was out by myself and trying to cross particularly busy roads I would suction myself onto a group of locals and step out onto the road with them with a look of calm and confidence that belied my inner terror. They would kindly ignore me and sweep me along with them or give me a small protective nod or smile.
Our last day was spent with Jed and Rich heading off to the military museum this morning and then we hit the streets with our friends for a last farewell Hanoi street food hit.
Thankfully, after a safe and happy time, we left the city a little more relaxed about our dong than when we'd first arrived.
American War
When we were in the depths of our Halong nightmare I went online and got us a good deal for a couple of rooms at Hanoi's historic hotel the Sofitel Metropole. Little did we know that we would become part of the family at the Art Hotel and they would lovingly greet us all by name every time they saw us. We had three more lovely nights with them and then, feeling a little disloyal we packed up and taxied across town to our new posh home.
The Metropole is grand, opulent and steeped in a rich history. Hundreds of busy staff buzz around in elegant traditional uniforms singing out greetings in French when they pass you. It felt like the hotel was the only place in Vietnam to miss the memo saying French Indochina was no longer.
We decided to take part in the free tour of the hotel and look at the bomb shelter used during what's known here as the American War but what we know as the Vietnam War. Our hotel tour leader spared no details in accounting the country's brutal history, first fighting and defeating the French and then the Americans. In the stuffy, damp bomb shelter under this grand hotel we listened to the recorded sounds of US bombs dropping on Hanoi and the haunting wails of Vietnamese mothers looking for their lost children. There was no romantic nostalgia for a former colonial time but instead a strong, proud and clear message of how hard Vietnamese people have fought and how much they have suffered.
By the end of the tour our hearts were heavy and our eyes were as misty as the cold Hanoi morning.
LYTTMAB
The Metropole is grand, opulent and steeped in a rich history. Hundreds of busy staff buzz around in elegant traditional uniforms singing out greetings in French when they pass you. It felt like the hotel was the only place in Vietnam to miss the memo saying French Indochina was no longer.
We decided to take part in the free tour of the hotel and look at the bomb shelter used during what's known here as the American War but what we know as the Vietnam War. Our hotel tour leader spared no details in accounting the country's brutal history, first fighting and defeating the French and then the Americans. In the stuffy, damp bomb shelter under this grand hotel we listened to the recorded sounds of US bombs dropping on Hanoi and the haunting wails of Vietnamese mothers looking for their lost children. There was no romantic nostalgia for a former colonial time but instead a strong, proud and clear message of how hard Vietnamese people have fought and how much they have suffered.
By the end of the tour our hearts were heavy and our eyes were as misty as the cold Hanoi morning.
LYTTMAB
Friday, 28 December 2012
Bloody beautiful
The unsettling quaintness of Luang Prabang forced us to scratch around for it's gritty side. On the contrary Hanoi at first slams you with it's ugly, dirty self. It's hard to see past it when it's coming at you, at great speed, from every direction. Sure, there are small glimpses of buildings with French facades and paint chipped wooden shutters but the beauty of this place is in its belly. It's often not seen so much as tasted and smelt. The magnificence of this place is found in its food and not only that but it's passion and obsession with food and eating. How could we not love a place with food stalls at every turn. Literally. Food also appears before you in bamboo baskets hanging heavily on arching bamboo poles being bounced along by a tiny street vendor.
As I write I am sitting in a smokey coffee shop sipping thick, almost grainy coffee sweetened with the perfect amount of sweetened condensed milk. Beautiful. The matriarch of the place just scuffed through in her plastic flips flops, openly looking me up and down with an expression that I could not distinguish between disgust, warmth or indifference. She sat in one of the diminutive plastic chairs, next to her on a small box was a large, bulging wad of cash held together with an elastic band and in the box slept two pet chihuahuas. The table in front of her has now been filled with bowls of steaming food which she shares with her daughter and granddaughters who run the shop. They come and go fluidly, gossiping and eating and breezing out again. Beautiful.
To get under the city's skin a little more we did a street food tour last night with an Aussie guy, Mark, who lives here and writes a fantastic food blog called Stickyrice. He unveiled some more culinary delights, twisting and turning through small dark alleyways introducing new and amazing morsels at every turn. Beautiful.
This afternoon we spent time with a couple of local uni students. An organization called Hanoikids coordinates free tours to give students the opportunity to practice their English and allow guests to meet locals and get a look about. Two gorgeous twenty year olds turned up to pick us up and the first thing we wanted to do was eat. Mark had told us where to get a special rice flour pancake we love so we asked them if we could make that our first destination. It took some convincing to get them to take us to an alleyway rather than a well known tourist restaurant but eventually they happily obliged. They weren't one hundred percent sure about how to get to the exact spot but Leo and I recognized where we had been last night and to their amazement we ended up leading them to the spot. We waved to vendors whose stalls we had eaten at with Mark last night and they gave us surprised but cheerful greetings. The pancakes were worth the search. Again, we crouched on our low stools, wrapped the crispy pancake full of sprouts and prawns and minced beef into a thin piece of rice paper with herbs and greens and dipped it into a sweet, spicy dipping sauce. Beautiful. The museum of Ethnology that they took us to was really interesting but the definite highlight of the afternoon was sitting in the street with them, sharing food and exchanging stories.
Amazingly today we ran into some friends who live in Bali. It's their first night in Hanoi and we were able to take them on our own street food tour visiting all the favorite places we have eaten so far. First stop cha ca fish. Beautiful. Then a stroll to creme caramel. Beautiful. Finish off at a cafe (with Alice in Wonderland ceilings so low even a ten year old had to bend down) that sells amazing homemade frozen yoghurt with a shot of coffee or chocolate or passionfruit. Sounds weird but got us back a second night in a row. Walking the streets, catching up with friends, knowing some of the best eating spots in town and being greeted like regulars when we arrive. Bloody beautiful.
It's a mad, dirty, beautiful, delicious place and we love it to the moon and back.
As I write I am sitting in a smokey coffee shop sipping thick, almost grainy coffee sweetened with the perfect amount of sweetened condensed milk. Beautiful. The matriarch of the place just scuffed through in her plastic flips flops, openly looking me up and down with an expression that I could not distinguish between disgust, warmth or indifference. She sat in one of the diminutive plastic chairs, next to her on a small box was a large, bulging wad of cash held together with an elastic band and in the box slept two pet chihuahuas. The table in front of her has now been filled with bowls of steaming food which she shares with her daughter and granddaughters who run the shop. They come and go fluidly, gossiping and eating and breezing out again. Beautiful.
To get under the city's skin a little more we did a street food tour last night with an Aussie guy, Mark, who lives here and writes a fantastic food blog called Stickyrice. He unveiled some more culinary delights, twisting and turning through small dark alleyways introducing new and amazing morsels at every turn. Beautiful.
This afternoon we spent time with a couple of local uni students. An organization called Hanoikids coordinates free tours to give students the opportunity to practice their English and allow guests to meet locals and get a look about. Two gorgeous twenty year olds turned up to pick us up and the first thing we wanted to do was eat. Mark had told us where to get a special rice flour pancake we love so we asked them if we could make that our first destination. It took some convincing to get them to take us to an alleyway rather than a well known tourist restaurant but eventually they happily obliged. They weren't one hundred percent sure about how to get to the exact spot but Leo and I recognized where we had been last night and to their amazement we ended up leading them to the spot. We waved to vendors whose stalls we had eaten at with Mark last night and they gave us surprised but cheerful greetings. The pancakes were worth the search. Again, we crouched on our low stools, wrapped the crispy pancake full of sprouts and prawns and minced beef into a thin piece of rice paper with herbs and greens and dipped it into a sweet, spicy dipping sauce. Beautiful. The museum of Ethnology that they took us to was really interesting but the definite highlight of the afternoon was sitting in the street with them, sharing food and exchanging stories.
Amazingly today we ran into some friends who live in Bali. It's their first night in Hanoi and we were able to take them on our own street food tour visiting all the favorite places we have eaten so far. First stop cha ca fish. Beautiful. Then a stroll to creme caramel. Beautiful. Finish off at a cafe (with Alice in Wonderland ceilings so low even a ten year old had to bend down) that sells amazing homemade frozen yoghurt with a shot of coffee or chocolate or passionfruit. Sounds weird but got us back a second night in a row. Walking the streets, catching up with friends, knowing some of the best eating spots in town and being greeted like regulars when we arrive. Bloody beautiful.
It's a mad, dirty, beautiful, delicious place and we love it to the moon and back.
Thursday, 27 December 2012
Lazy Susan
After dad and I did the Living Land tour mum requested if I could do a blog post about it and, as usual, I was more than happy to oblige. So, with a bit of a sore tummy I thought would pass over, we set off on our last adventure in Laos.
On the way, we picked up some people from another villa. In this instance Min (or my grandma for readers who aren't family) would've said "Gee, it's a small world isn't it!" because these people ended up being an Aussie family with two kids, 10 & 9! Anyway, we were driving through some dirt tracks (another point for you Min - we passed Ock Pop Tok on the way!) when we arrived at this farm with a veggie garden growing everything from radishes to dragon vegetable (dragon fruit in vegetable form), glittering green rice paddies and in the middle a grand bamboo hut/house. We started our tour by meeting a water buffalo, named Susan.
Now, a funny story about Susan. Around the end of the activity I'll talk about next, Susan started getting a bit tired. So, our farmer/guide started saying "Lazy Susan!". We were all cracking up but the funniest part was that he didn't know what a Lazy Susan was!
Anyway, after we were introduced to "Lazy Susan" the guide said "Now, who wants to ride Susan?". I'd never ridden a water buffalo before so, naturally, I put my hand up. I popped on the buffalo and, oh my, it was an experience! The back had all of these ridges on it so as I started riding (remembering there was no harness on this animal) I started bumping up and down and up and down until the point when I thought I would fall off! After a few other people had had their go, they started attaching a plough. So I did two things I thought I'd never do in my life; ride a water buffalo and walk around thigh-deep in mud ploughing rice, while this huge water buffalo drags me along at what felt like 100 miles an hour!
Now that we were back on land we, naturally, had to harvest the rice. So, we got our machetes out (really, they got their machetes out for us) and set off to work. But it wasn't that simple. First, we had to go to the blacksmiths and sharpen our weapons. Look down at the photos, I think some of the funniest are from this activity. I think everyone's arms were tired enough but, nevertheless, we set off to harvest the rice!
The rest of the day went like this:
We dried the rice,
We shook the dried rice off the rice plant,
We carried rice around like the old women would,
We pounded the dried rice out of its shell,
We got all of the shell out of the rice kernels (most of the rice got out too!),
We made rice milk & rice flour
& we also made sugarcane juice, not to mention sticky rice!!!
So, after a walk through the beautiful veggie gardens we sat down to eat all of these snacks made out of, you guessed it, rice! And let me tell you, I loved everything to the moon and back.
On the way, we picked up some people from another villa. In this instance Min (or my grandma for readers who aren't family) would've said "Gee, it's a small world isn't it!" because these people ended up being an Aussie family with two kids, 10 & 9! Anyway, we were driving through some dirt tracks (another point for you Min - we passed Ock Pop Tok on the way!) when we arrived at this farm with a veggie garden growing everything from radishes to dragon vegetable (dragon fruit in vegetable form), glittering green rice paddies and in the middle a grand bamboo hut/house. We started our tour by meeting a water buffalo, named Susan.
Now, a funny story about Susan. Around the end of the activity I'll talk about next, Susan started getting a bit tired. So, our farmer/guide started saying "Lazy Susan!". We were all cracking up but the funniest part was that he didn't know what a Lazy Susan was!
Anyway, after we were introduced to "Lazy Susan" the guide said "Now, who wants to ride Susan?". I'd never ridden a water buffalo before so, naturally, I put my hand up. I popped on the buffalo and, oh my, it was an experience! The back had all of these ridges on it so as I started riding (remembering there was no harness on this animal) I started bumping up and down and up and down until the point when I thought I would fall off! After a few other people had had their go, they started attaching a plough. So I did two things I thought I'd never do in my life; ride a water buffalo and walk around thigh-deep in mud ploughing rice, while this huge water buffalo drags me along at what felt like 100 miles an hour!
Now that we were back on land we, naturally, had to harvest the rice. So, we got our machetes out (really, they got their machetes out for us) and set off to work. But it wasn't that simple. First, we had to go to the blacksmiths and sharpen our weapons. Look down at the photos, I think some of the funniest are from this activity. I think everyone's arms were tired enough but, nevertheless, we set off to harvest the rice!
The rest of the day went like this:
We dried the rice,
We shook the dried rice off the rice plant,
We carried rice around like the old women would,
We pounded the dried rice out of its shell,
We got all of the shell out of the rice kernels (most of the rice got out too!),
We made rice milk & rice flour
& we also made sugarcane juice, not to mention sticky rice!!!
So, after a walk through the beautiful veggie gardens we sat down to eat all of these snacks made out of, you guessed it, rice! And let me tell you, I loved everything to the moon and back.
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