For those of you who are reading this blog but have not met him, Phil is one of my oldest and closest friends. It was his 36th birthday today and we celebrated in what has to be the single most surreal and flat out bizarre manner I have ever witnessed. As I mentioned earlier, there is a shooting range just outside of Phnom Penh that we wanted to try, fulfilling my adolescent male gun lust fantasy that all boys with a penis and a history of watching Schwarzenegger films posses.
Phil took to an AK47 fully automatic assault rifle straight away and did so with gusto. I was showered with shells and the loudest, most frightening noise I had ever witnessed in my life. I was instantly put off the idea of using anything larger than a hand gun, so i grabbed an automatic pistol and fired off a few rounds. Using an instrument of death as a recreational toy rwas an uncomfortable experience, but I was really really pissy that I didnt hit the target. NOT A SINGLE BULLET HIT THE MARK. This has left me with a permanent vendetta against paper silhoettes. The guys at the range offered us the use of a few hand grenades, but both of us throw like girls so it was not a good idea.
Then, it was off to the Killing Fields. For some retarded reason I got confused about what we were going to see; I thought it was more in line with the sorts of things I saw at the Vietnam American War museum, but no...this was the real deal- The Temple of Genocide which is essentially a four storey pile of human skulls. The entire place is nestled in this serene and beautifully lush forestesque environment, but all around is nothing but horror. Signs letting you know what the big rectangular pits were for (burying headless bodies) or little plaques letting you know this particularly majestic looking tree was set aside to lash children to so they could be tortured and killed really did my head and soul in. We didn't spend that long there, it was really to much for me. There were Dont Touch signs all over the piles of skulls, and you really could just reach out and touch them. So many of them had gaping holes in them from being bludgeoned, because the Khmer Rouge was keen on saving bullets.
Most disturbing of all was The Magic Tree. Apparently they used to hang a loud speaker in the limbs that constantly blared music all day to drown out the sounds of the victims screaming. Something even more disturbing than that: As you leave the Killing Fields you can buy yourself a refreshing Pepsi from one of the many vendors!
Ah! Fizzy Drink and Genocide! Together at last!
All in all, a particularly strange day and one that left me with the lingering feeling that my opinion the human race is a bit sub par has been acurate all along, and all those folks who keep telling me Im too cynical are really not paying attention.
Having said that, my next post will be after I have beheld the spectacle of Angkor Wat, so I can imagine that it shall contain a much more appreaciative attitude to Homo Crapians.
I hope you are all safe and well, and I love and cherish* all of you.
*all the ones who don't shit me that is. You know who you are.
Still in Saigon. I am going to be one depressed mother fucker when I leave here I can tell you. The sting of having to give up Laos so we can spend more time here has been greatly eased by how jaw droppingly awesome I find this place. Our erstwhile companion Hanoi Helen is, as her moniker would suggest, more at home to Hanoi than Saigon, but me; I love the place.
Checked out the Presidential digs where the Big Cheeses conducted the American War, and most of it was like a shitty Get Smart set. it was fantastic and we really enjoyed stuffing around in the endless war corridors and the Presidents War Room (We quoted Dr Strangelove to sad degree's) but the mood changed most signifigantly when we waddled over to the War Remberance Museum.
Seeing photo's of the American War and artefcats I had never come across before was as sobering as an artic bath after a week long bender. I almost lost my shit standing in a room full of childrens paintings all depicting their hatred for Agent Orange, war and death. Strangely, no Anti-American sentiment was to be found in all of this, even though there was a fair bit to be found inside your humble blog author. On display were to jars containing Agent Orange Foetus's. Horrific. We encountered our first Land Mind victim who fleeced us for some dong, but quite frankly he needed it much more than we did. Best part of the display was an endless series of photo's depicting American Troops killing and abusing the locals right next to a section of their Declaration of Indepance. Very nicely done.
Our digs are right near these huge markets, and a more awesome place I could not imagine. The market itself is choc full of people and various wares, some shit, others wonderful, and so far I have had a fantastic time everytime I set foot in the place. Most dangerous of all however, is the food stalls that suddenly appear after dark. The food here is so good that I am sorry to say, we both have, on more than one occasion, broken the two meal for dinner limit.
One thing I am less turned on by is the frog meals. Gross. They have several tanks full of sad looking seafood ready for the chop and hot pot which, i am sorry to say, i have partaken of, but the series of frogs all roped up desperately trying to flee and realizing they are heading for the grill is a bit full on, especially when you come across the frogs that have been skinned alive and are just sitting there...waiting.
I have previously blogged about how unimpressed by the food I was in Hanoi, well that is a whole different story here. Its so good. Any dreams of me loosing weight while on the trip have been thrown into a huge boiling pot, seasoned with beef and fed back to me in grand style.
Also: just about every girl here is jaw droppingly, pants exploding hot. One hilarious thing is the parks are not are dotted by an endless amount of motorcycles with couples placed atop them making out, its a veritable cess pool of love. Equal parts endearing and vomit inducing!
Anyway, i must dash. i have some strawberry ice cream with my name on it.
It's raining. Hard. Like....way hard. The "Wet Season" is upon us and we are more or less Hotel Bound at the moment so dense and hardcore is the rain action. I went out before, believing myself to be man enough to handle the deluge, but the moment I got outside i suffered six fractures to my skull so heavy and thick was the falling drops of "water". I ended up collapsing on the side of the road screaming in pain, clutching my head as vital brain fluids ebbed out of my skull and I was unable to move. A small team of children ended up gathering my water-logged body and taking me to the Dr's, where I was stictched up good and proper and then sheppareded onto a bus. It was a good eight hours before I gained conciousness and had to hitch-hike back from Danang carrying this weird speckled duck I promised to deliver to the Dr's brother. Pretty sure it was dinner.
Phil and myself had planned to go into the Old Quarter today and walk around. Yesterdays attempt was thwarted by the last minute reveal that neither of us had any sense to bring along camera's, and today, God has smited us with his divine, powerful moisture.
Yesterday most of the city block we are staying in lost power...something to do with a balls up in road construction. This must be something of a regular occurance as pretty much in the same breath the power went off, a zillion generators were fired up to provide the businesses with the precious power juice they so desperatly need. These generators are mostly pre World War 2 so it was a cacophony of noise not unlike what the first battalion of Angels that followed Lucifer into Hell must have sounded like.
We ate at a particularly delicious Indian place last night, staffed by "Actual Indians" so said the sign outside, but alas, like so much of what we are told here by the locals; it was bullshit. Still...the meal was delicious...we did that thing you do when you go to an Indian restaruant of ordering six hundred zillion dishes thinking you are going to eat every single one of them, but alas, we failed. Our failure was compounded when we asked for a doggy bag and received an actual dog. Speaking of dog...we ate some in Hot Pot form. I would not recommend it. The doggy bag ended up being comedy gold. They poured every single remnant of the meal into this one plastic bag, so now in our fridge there sits a weary looking bit of cheese Naan and a bright orange bag full of what for all intents and purposes has all the hallmarks of cold sick.
Just looked out the foyer and yes, it's flooding. These may be my last words to you all as a hospital has just collapsed a block away, and children are surfing along the flooded streets on the bodies that are slowly bleeding out of the ruined infirmary.
I love Hoi An!
As an aside, clearly the Vietnamese do not give a rats ass about the Burmese, as we are only getting word on what is happening out there from the BBC.
Vietnamese television, or at least what I have seen of it, is fucking awful.
Stayed at the five star place last night and god damn it I am going to work my ass off for the next few years so I can be a travelling author and stay at five star hotels for years on end. I'm reading The Salmon of Doubt at the moment which contains a lot of references to Douglas Adams expensive hotel habit, and I think i am confident that I can develop one of those as well. The place was fantastic, we knew we were sorted as soon as we saw the picture of Michael Caine during his stay there while shooting the Quiet American. You could feel his power.
Helen scored the room to review as part of her work for pathfinder....link people!: The room service was so terribley overpriced that I am pretty sure we spent more money there than we would have at the cheap hotel we are staying in now, but who cares. Saw a giant snail as well. We battled it for a good while as it tried to take our faces off, but ultimately, the end result of 2,000,000 years of simian evolution triumphed over the mollusc, and will continue to do so until such time that we destroy ourselves. Good times.
Went to the tailors the other day with Phil to finally get some suit action going. Phil selected a particularly nice cut of suit, pin stripe, black and double breasted. I found a nice woolen coat thing with the stiff, Kim Jong neck thing going on so I can look like I have some kind of poise when clearly, I do not. The tailor girls loved us..."funky men" apparently. The girl measuring Phil exclaimed enthusiastically "nice body!" and mine measured me and said immeadiatly "More money please!" Very excited about this. Those of you who know me are aware how carefully I select my wardrobe (whatever is black and under fifty bucks at target) so getting something proffesionally made up for me by people who do this sort of thing for a living is high adventure.
Quite keen to get back and see Ye Olde Melbourne again as I really do miss the climate. The people: not so much.
I have nothing more to add to this blog entry. Have a nice day.
In Hoi An at the moment which is a wonderful place and a much needed breath of fresh air after the chaos and industrial levels of pollution of Hanoi. No shit, i didnt realize how much my poor asthamtic lungs were suffering in that place until i came here. It's a seaside village kind of affair, not unlike something you would find in South Australia but with far less suck.
Spent 15 hours on a train to get here. Yes, I know some of you have spent up to fifty hours on trains in your international travels, but if you get on a train in the full knowledge that you are not getting off two calender dates removed from when you get on, you deserve every thing you get. I hate overland transport more than i hate the chinese, so for me it was a big deal.
Speaking of chinese, man...i have yet to hear a good word said about them. We have made a new friend at this end, a London boy named Ben who spent a year in Beijing and he has little to recommend about it or them other than his girlfriend was nice.
Last night I had one of the greatest meals ever served to living humans. I've been a bit down on the food here, not just because for the first week and a half it came flying out of me within moments of being consumed, but because I thought it was a bit flat. The Pho is kind of ok but nothing that removed from the stuff you can get in Melbourne, or even make yourself, but god damn, Helen took us to a place called The Blue Mango that was literally to die for, or at least, suffer a mild maiming. We had three entree's, three desserts, three mains and about five drinks all up and it cost us only 70 bucks in total as opposed to each as it would at home. Vine wrapped meats, red schnapper, chicken in pineapple chilli sauce, oh my god. We adjorned afterward to a pub that, no shit, is right of Caulfield and full of uni types, the very people i left the country to avoid. There was an art exhibition in the place that was more or less Facist/Military imagery served re-heated as pop iconography that was more or less just what you would expect in a Fitzroy cafe or some such and on the tv in the corner was a constantly looping documentary showing various extreme forms of political violence over the years. A group of Israeli girls asked for the tv to be turned off as it was offending their delicate sensibilities. The hosts laughed their asses off at first until they realized the stupid bitches were serious, and, being helpful vietnamese types, shut the tv off. This did not impress us even remotely. We had already been eyeballed with hate by the group when they overheard Phil and I discussing the conceit of internationalizing Jeruselum, and some of our trademark Anti-Semetic humour did not go down so well either. It was a shame because one of the Israeli girls was breathtakingly hot and had one of those great noses I really go for.
yesterday Helen and Phil hired motorbikes for a ride out of the town so I wandered aimlessly around Hoi An all day. It will be a cold day in Heck when i ever get my fat ass on a bike again, so i was happy wafting about this place drooling over all the beautfiul spots found in the inner city and the beautiful coffin shop I found full of, well, coffins.
Speaking of my fat ass, everywhere I go here people seem desperate to rub my tummy for luck. "Happy Buddha" they all call me, and no one can resist at least a quick tap and a giggle. A bunch of school children walked past me the other day and as soon as one brave girl figured out she could get away with a quick rub without fear of retritbution; it was on. I think i provided the whole school with enough luck to not only get them out of high school laid, but laid AND surrounded by good healthy smokable drugs- something no high school experience can be without, even though mine, sadly, was.
Signing out of the hotel we are in today and heading off to a five star place that Helen has fanalged for us, so that will be cool, i know the kids harbour some desire for more exploration but its raining like every single god in existance is all taking a slash at once, so i may be a mojito pool side affair. I think i have developed a really bad an potentially life threatneing addiction to expensive hotels and the service that therein can be found.
Lots of love to all of you, and I hope to see you soon.
Except Anneke. You suck.
:)
ps; I honestly can not be fucked going over this post to edit spelling errors and grammatical flaws. I dont care about any of you that much.
So we are booked on a train to De Nang. 15 hours. Oh dear. I'm pretty happy about putting Hanoi behind me. The place is beautiful in a manner I have not seen before, nor was really prepared for, but the incessant noise and endless traffic is really, really enough to do my head in. I haven't really slept properly since I've been here and its slowly causing me to deteriorate. The constant humidity is not really my thing either. Right now, sweat is pouring out of my body as I write this text to such a degree that every single insect in Helen's house is surfing down my face. Beautiful!
Heading off to Da Nang tomorrow, then Hoi An where we can sit on the beaches and do fuck all. Ran into a few people who get misty eyed and choke up about the gorgeousness of Hoi An, so looking forward to that.
Last few days have been pretty formless. Instead of being touristy and crap, both Phil and myself just have been wandering around checking shit out and feeding when we can. I finally got my appetite back last night and ate a huge feast at the behest of one of the Hotel Owners who happened to see me wandering around and asked me to join him. These people are so friendly its the only thing that stops me from running them through with sharp objects when they try and flog gum or books on french linoleum to me on the street.
Anneke, bless her, gave me a shit load of Xanax before I left, so i am clinging onto them for tonights train journey. Fuckball that I am until recently thought we were sleeping in Hammocks on the train. Thank god we are not. I am not a nickle and dime traveller....I think im never visiting a place with a standard of living lower than our own again unless it is part of a literary tour for my first novel which shall be published next year. Oh yeah.
Wont be coming back to Hanoi for almost two weeks. About to head off to the rest of Nam and then head to Cambodia then Laos. Looking for some peace and quiet.
Miss you guys a lot. None of you are getting bought jack shit as gifts because, quite frankly, everything here sucks in the way of trinkets. Maybe a snake in a bottle for some of you, or a gay ass fan or some shit.
Laughing our ass off for the most part, I think Phil and myself killing ourselves laughing at everything and anything disturbs the locals a bit, but they smell...so nyeah to them
So for the last few days we have been doing very little in the way of organized sight seeing. The plan has been just to waft around and really get a taste and feel of Hanoi without being touristy about it. The weather is slowly killing me, most of you will know I prefer the cold climates, and although the heat is nothing special, the humidity is slowly making a huge pussy out of me, something that is compounded by the fact the locals can tell.
"Too Hot...too hot for you!" they smile and laugh at me. I don't punch them square in the face, but only because it is culturally unacceptable for me to do so.
Phil and I checked out our first temple, a beautiful serene thing smack dab in the middle of the lake that seems central to most of where we are staying. It was quite lovelly, a huge stuffed turtle in the middle of the place. Apparently the big-ass turtles still live in the lake, but judging by the shitful condition of the water, I would wager the turtles long had the good sense to bug out of there for less mutant-algae lands.
Found a large shopping plaza, an upscale western kind of affair we call Whitey-Town. Within you can find all sorts of top class stuff, including Highlands coffee, the equivalant of Starbucks. This place is a godsend. Some of you may know that I have been haunted by the spectre of a certain Hollywood actor over the last few years, often having people coming up to me and commenting on the smiliarity between us. This has gotten worse just recently with the success of the show "Lost" being that I bare a more than passing similarity to the gentleman who plays Hurley. Anyway, after our coffee's at this establishment, one of the shy worker girls came up to me and asked me if I was "into films" I said, why yes,hoping that my break through short films had maybe ganered me a cult audience here in Hanoi. When I responded positivively, the entire staff of girls suddenly appeared around us and started giggling and pointing at me in disbelief. As we left they all waved and gathered around the bar watching us go.
I will never be safe.
Stayed in a fuck hole of a place because we couldnt get the room we were after; literally a broom closet next to the maids quarters. After scouring the streets for something to do, we managed to stumble across a nice Thai boy named Chang who outfitted us with a DVD player and some of Thailands finest cigarettes that helped our night smashingly. We found a copy of MASH; the motion picture, and that was our night. Bliss.
Finally got our ass into this great place called The Bodega Hotel. Polished floorboards, corinthians, kick ass air conditioner, the whole thing. Loved it. Found a market that had wall to wall alcohol; bought a bottle of scotch that cost $4 australian. OH YEAH!
Phil and Helen went out for drinkies but I found out a movie was playing on cable that had the World Wrestling Federations finest alumni, The Rock, so that was my night.
Alas the morning was shattered when our glorious proprietors desperatly tried to get us to move into a smaller room so they could fill ours up with some frenchies. Silly turds double booked. One thing about a Communist country, is that money is god, and who ever has the most gets what they want. As some of you know, I dont look my best in the morning, so the sight of me ranting and raving in my sarong downstairs in front of everyone was enough to ensure we only had to stay one night in the cheaper crappy room while the french bastards had their precious beauty sleep .
One thing that thouroughly is shitting me up the wall is the Cyclos. They are scum boxes on wheels. Everywhere you go you here them trying to get your attention, and if they see you so much as walk out of a door a zillion of them all arrive trying to take you somewhere. I refuse to travel in them because they suck, and thus far, I don't. You can even climb into a cab and they will still bother you, as if suddenly you will realize cheap, reliable transport is not as good as some douchebag with a box on his bike. Boo!
Phil and myself have just found what must be the greatest find in Hanoi: A supermarket. You should see our fridge; its suddenly chock full of happy cow cheese, fanta, sardine tins, ritz biscuits, milk and some packets of cereal. Also: MILO! For some reason we have both been craving milo like air, and now a full 80% of our belongings are Milo related.
Off to Hoi An soon, so I should have some legitimately interesting blog entires for you. So far the last couple of days have just been a hazey blur, but after tonights happy cow cheese fest we should be sorted.
Hope you are all doing Well. I am sort of enjoying myself here, but I am really looking forward to coming home and seeing you all again for stoop drinks and pizza.
Also: Anneke- had an awesome Mojito today at a five star hotel. I needed to relax a bit so Helen took me to some place with a beautiful pool, bar and home made ice cream.
Oh yeah
Went to Ha Long Bay. I really do not posses the skill or eloquence to put into words on my shitty blog how beautiful and sublime it all was, so just do a google image search and fill in the blanks.
Spent a few days on a boat that Helen is writing a piece for, and she brillitanly fenagled myself and Phil on board for free, so the price was most certainly right. The boat was beautiful, not quite the sumptous junks we saw floating about, but by god, no complaints from me. The tour guide was an incredibly officious and deadly proffesional type, and by that, I mean; Nazi.
"You will get 17 minutes of air conditioning to begin with, then nothing till 6. NOTHING"
Brilliant.
Had the grave misfortune of encountering the kind of traveller that has helped us earn our shitty reputation abroad. Stupid blonde bitch Sydney woman who complained about every single aspect of the culture wether it was actually relevant and in context to the culture or not.
"This soup looks like baby vomit"
"They sell bread on the side of the road..whats all that about"
"They still have Fido Dido T-Shirts here..how backward"
Makes me sick to see ourselves represented by this kind of ignorant douche baggery. She was more or less talking at us instead of too us, seemingly assuming there was some kind of "Group Bond" that quite frankly, did not exist.
Did the tourist cave walking thing which knocked me on my ass more than I was able to handle. I am not in the best of physical conditions to begin with, but ascending up a near vertical set of stairs cut into the side of the rock and then wandering around in a semi-enclosed space that had next to no breathable or recycling air really took it out of me. I was too stupid to get some Antolin spray for my lungs before I got here, so for a good hour or two I was walking around with what felt like razor lined clay lining my lungs. Thankfully I was asssited by a septagenarian Singaporean guy who held my bag while i threw up all over the rocks. Charming.
Not cool
Went back to the boat and stretched out on the deck while the rest of the crew went off to do the Kayak thing. I felt like a real fucking loser while this was all going on, but was cheered up considerably when Helen and Phil got back and admitted they sucked so much at the Kayak thing they had to get towed back. Apparently they were scodled for not possesing enough discipline.
Laugh Out Loud.
Shared our table with a lovely Dr from Melbourne called Vanessa, who, after a fashion, revealled she rides down Rathdowne street every day. Thats one more for the Stoop Club.
My love affair with Hanoi took a bit of a turn when I returned from Ha long Bay, not just because of the sudden resubmersion into the chaotic never ending maelstrom of metal, dirt and fruit vendors which was a slight shock after the glacial splendour of the Bay, but I suddenly became unable to keep any food down. Not so good. One of the big attactions in coming here was to eat the food, but so far most of it has been simmering partially digested in the nether regions of my stomach, before coming flying up with great and persuasive force.
Gross.
Spent the last two days in a bit of a hazy void actually. All three of us are a bit wonky for some reason. I mean, for me it's largely because I havent really eaten in a few days, but Helen and Phil have both been really sub par, which is good because at least we are all synchronized in our shitfulness.
It's been great being here though, all of the reasons I came to visit have essentially been fulfilled and it has been fantastic catching up with Helen and the whole thing is made even more entertaining to have Phil as a travelling companion. Most people seem to be impressed with our lack of shitfulness, and for that I am greatly appreaciative.
Ive been trying to buy gifts for all of you, but quite frankly most of the stuff here is shit house, so you get nothing!
