Just takin’ it easy

We left our nice hotel in Kata and moved to Bang Tao beach area. The main reason is that it is much closer to the airport. (More on that later) It is also very quiet. like a lot of Thailand, we have been here before, and stayed at the same hotel, called the Kris Resort. New last year and quite nice. The area is north of Patong and part of the area most devastated by the tsunami, but it is difficult to tell now, as it has all been rebuilt. The town proper is quite some distance from the resort area and so does not lend itself well to those who shop. Speaking of she who shops, I fear that she is possibly coming down with some blighted disease, for she has refrained from purchasing to excess, and in fact we have yet to send even one parcel home. With the exception of a few shirts, well that and a few scarves, she remains without purchases. I trust that this will remedy itself once we get to Bali, as I am certain that there must be a cure for this malady.

Like I mentioned, Bang Tao is quite laid back, and as I was trying my best to blend in, sitting on the deck doing nothing, I noticed some of the locals hard at work. This was in a rather large field next to our hotel, and the work crew comprised of three men and a monkey, or perhaps four men, one of whom was quite short and very hairy. Now the “short hairy one” was tied to a long rope, and was sent up the coconut trees to harvest the coconuts. He was really quite selective and upon removing the chosen coconut from the tree, would wing it down in the area of the three other fellows, one of whom would collect the coconut and throw it in a cart attached to a motorcycle. Or perhaps  the hairy guy was trying to hit the other three, but a coconut is big enough to see coming. The rope on the main worker guy was, I assume, a means to encourage him to come back down from the tree on demand. It would also prevent him from sitting in the treetop laughing and presenting the finger to those still on the ground. When you think that this was a thriving enterprise with at least three and one half employees, the only one who appeared to be working had a big responsibility in that all their livelihoods rested on his shoulders. Sort of like government work.

Now I did mention that we moved, partially to be closer to the airport. Our flight to Bali left at 8:50 AM, and as it is considered an international flight we were expected to be there two hours prior. Even with our closer proximity to the airport, we are still a good half hour away, so that makes our hotel departure in the neighborhood of 6:00 AM. Now even with a “flash face” from the magic face case that would still mean a “open your eyes, its morning” time of about 5:00 AM. Well we made arrangements for a wake up call for 5:00 AM and a taxi at 6:00, and then promptly went to sleep, and slept, and slept until 6:00 AM when we were informed that our taxi was waiting. It seems that our wake up call must have gone to the wrong room, so now we are scrambling. At 6:20, we are checking out and getting into our “new taxi” and on the way to the airport. But this is Thailand, panic is not that necessary. We cleared customs and all that stuff, and still made our flight. Next stop Kuala Lumpur, and then Bali, — but that is another blog.

Back to the Big Buddha

Took another trip up to the Big Buddha. This would be the third such trip, as we have visited the site each year that we have visited this area. The Buddha was begun about ten years ago and is constructed from concrete, all 150 feet of it. After shaping the statue, the surface was inlaid with white marble tiles, which were again shaped and smoothed to give it’s present surface. The scaffolding that is presently erected around the head portion of the statue is to enable the workers to do the fine finishing touches. In this instance it was to install the eyes of the Buddha. The pupils were ground and shaped from serpentine rock from Burma, and the whites of the eyes are shaped from mother of pearl. It remains but to install the marble tiles on the lotus pedals, where the Buddha sits, and the  statue proper will be completed, but the job far from over. Construction now begins upon the retaining wall and temple buildings. Now it is not that the workers are so desperately slow, but as the construction was done through donation and the sale of the marble tiles. So finance had a very big part in the building.

Now i am a bit uncertain if possibly the Thai peoples are hoping to construct an edifice which may last thousand of years. The Cambodians have Anchor Wat which has stood the test of time, the Chinese have the Great wall, and now the Thai have the Giant Buddha. Little do they realize that they still have their mattresses, which I am certain will last a thousand years. All those coil springs which they managed to scrounge from General Motors after the production of the autos of the 60’s, went into the production of mattresses. The beds that we slept upon three years ago are every bit as firm today as they were then. I believe that had general motors engineered the rest of the car to last as long as the coil springs, they would not now be owned by the US taxpayer. But back to the Buddha! You can see the square shaped marble tiles on the bee hive shaped items in the picture, both in the rough installation and then again once they have been ground and shaped. These “bee hives” are actually part of the hair styling of the Buddha, where hundreds of these adorn the head. It gives you a bit of the picture of just how much labor has gone into the construction.

Interesting to note that the scaffolding is comprised of bamboo sticks, tied together with chunks of old rope. The workers scurry about this rather flimsy looking structure, with no apparent worries. No thank you very much!

Our next stretch appears to be Bali. Don’t know how the internet will be, but I will try to keep in touch, and the blog updated. And oh yes, you will note the addition of some photos to the blog. Grand daughter, Brooklyn, tried to teach me how to do this last year, but having the mental retention of a chicken, by the time I tried it, it didn’t work. Took another lesson this year from son (Troy), and voila. Not yet perfect, but getting there.

Best to all

T

People watching

Upon looking at the west coast beach areas of Koh Phuket, (Phuket Island), it is hard to realize the devastation that was here a few short years ago. Hotels and resorts have been rebuilt and the beaches are full and the towns are busy. Soon the death and destruction left by the Tsunami will be but a memory, a tale to be passed down by an older generation.

It would appear as though there are more Europeans here this year, than in the past. Still a lot of Scandinavians, but Europe appears to be the area to flee from this year. Maybe the mounds of snow that they are encountering, along with the strong winds and freezing temperatures has encouraged them to travel. Something new that I noticed this year, particularly in Patong, are the number of old Gaffers with a “suicide” hair do By this, I mean “dyed by their own hand” It would seem that once these old fellows escape from their extended care lodges, or the watchful scrutiny of care giver children, they flee to Patong and incorporate a clever disguise. The problem with “dyeing on the cheap” is that there appears to be a very small choice in colors. Those with a full head of hair appear to prefer “coal black”, as extracted from a can of Nugget shoe polish. This give the casual look of possibly a black cat having landed on ones head, and then hung on for dear life I have been tempted to take a peek under the black mat with the thoughts of finding a pair of eyes glaring at me, but that would only satisfy idle curiosity. The other group of debonair gentlemen are those with a comb-over. This is where they try to extract sufficient hair from their ears to drag up to the top of their skulls, or as close to as possible. (I have more experience in this category). Now for some reason, these dashing rascals appear to prefer a brilliant orange color, similar to the dye used on the robes of the novice monks, and is thus likely to be very available and for a modest cost. The result is a fuzzy orange wreath, worn in the Roman style, part way around the head. Now as Patong is the area of choice for the party crowd, and is thus filled with the younger tourist group, I suspect that the clever disguise is used in hopes of blending in — I hate to tell them, “it ain’t working”. Of course, I could be mistaken and Patong is actually hosting a convention for retired circus clowns. One never knows.

We have now moved to Kata, probably the most quiet of the three major beach towns on Phuket, but our favorite, eating and sleeping playing a bigger role in our life style it seems. We will be here for a few more days and decide if and when we will move on to Bali and Malaysia.

We will keep you posted.

T

Deja – vu Asia 2010

Have you ever opened your eyes and thought “ I’ve seen this before”? Well I had that deja vu experience, but hey, here we are, back in Thailand, and I have seen this before. Fortunately, strong winds and horizontal rains that were on the verge of sleet, prompted her own self into booking some tickets, and here we are. I, of course put up a valiant struggle to stay at home and enjoy the rain — or perhaps I was mistaken that I did that, and if I had, I should be beaten with a stick. Ah yes, — it is good to be back. There is an abundance of sun, and Thailand is still filled with warm and friendly people.

We were fortunate in our flight arrangements to procure our tickets with Cathay Pacific. As we were flying “baggage”, and in the air for some seventeen hours it is nice to have the bit of extra leg room that they seem to provide. All they need to do now, is figure out a way to abolish jet-lag and travel will be a breeze. Had a bit of a time turning day into night and vice versa — hey, maybe I am morphing back into a teenager? Falling into the swing of things now. It is amazing what one can do when they force themselves.

Don’t know just how frequent the blogs will be this trip. The difficulty in us repeatedly returning to these same areas which we enjoy so much, is finding new things to write about, but I’ll try. I believe that I have previously mentioned a time or three, just how great is the variety of fresh fruit, and how much we enjoy having it so readily available. I have not included “Durian” , (see above photo) in that list, as I had not savored its flesh. Now for those of you not in the know, durian is a fruit which hides in a sort of shell, about the size of a basketball. It is covered with little pyramid shaped spikey lumps, and is definitely not the type of fruit which you would like to be dropped in your lap. In addition, most hotels here, have warnings posted in the rooms stating that durian is not allowed, and if the rule is broken, eviction may result. This bad rap for the poor durian appears to be the result of a some what distinctive odor, likened to that of rotting flesh, or possibly rotten eggs. However, faint heart never kissed a pig, and as we found a fruit vendor who was willing to sell us a small amount of just the flesh, we added it to our purchase. Now, in order to offset the distinctive odor and ugly appearance, supposedly, the flesh has the texture of a pudding and an incredible amount of healthy benefits. Methinks that this last bit of PR was devised by those who wished to sell said durian, as when I opened the package, I was definitely aware of a distinctive odor. It was not that of a rose garden! Now not having a great deal of experience with rotting flesh, trying my best to eat all meat products in the fridge in a timely fashion. I am not quite as responsive to the condition of vegetables, for I surmise that they could get stuck in ones throat and become a health hazard. Anyway, back to my durian, I would guess that the smell would be somewhere in a mix of possibly rotted flesh and diaper poo. The “pudding – like” flesh, was more like that of partially cooked artichokes, but what the heck, I had gotten this far, and the truth was in the taste. Well, my guess is, some of scent of the “diaper poo” spilled over into the flavor, so on a scale of one to ten, I would be hard pressed to give it a two. Maybe it is like a single malt, an acquired taste. I shall never find out — the durian, not the single malt.

Decided yesterday to dine at one of our favorite restaurants in this area, “The Red Chair Restaurant”. This is a small place , off the beaten track, and mostly frequented by locals — very good food and very cheap. The one small setback is that we are staying in Karon, and the restaurant is in Kata, which I believe must be about a hundred miles apart, — well maybe 3 ½ miles apart, but it feels like a hundred in the hot sun. On our return walk, Bonnie appeared to get tired of my whining and snivelling about my “poor me” and my sore feet, so she suggested — no, insisted, that I experience a fish foot massage. This also gave her some time to stroll through some shops while I was otherwise occupied. Now this fish thing was a long aquarium set on the floor, and next to a bench, upon which you could sit. First a young lady washed your feet, not that my feet would require such treatment after three hours of walking in the afternoon sun, and then you plunked your feet into the fish bowl. You are immediately beset upon by cannibalistic hoards of these fish, who commence to eat you alive. Now, in fact, these fish are only two or three inches long, and are only dining upon the old dead pieces of skin particles on your feet. It is a different experience to say the least. Would I take it over the traditional Thai foot massage?, probably not, but it is like comparing apples and oranges — same, same, but different. By the time we made it back to our hotel in Karon, I am certain that we had consumed more calories than we had gained, and I suspect that this is a good thing.

We will be changing accommodation today so I will get back to blogging once we are settled. Take care and have fun!

T

It’s a wrap!!

Not much that you can say about the monotony of air travel, the lack of movement, the drone of the engines and airline food. Well actually you can say a bit. Our flight from Beijing to Vancouver was with Air China. Hey a good trip, edible food, lots of drink, helpful attendants and comfortable seats. Not too much wrong with this. The one blip on our return screen was at ( you guessed it) — Vancouver. Now in our three month sojourn we had spent time in airports all over Asia, and of course had to deal with all types of immigration and customs peoples, but I must say that all this went flawlessly, that is until we arrived into Vancouver. Our flight arrived about noon local time, and of course we were ushered down to customs and immigration — well what there was of it. In a fancy new facility with stations for 22 inspectors, there were five on duty. This at a time of day when flights were arriving every ten minutes. There is no possible way that those five inspectors could keep up with the arrivals, and in no time the very large waiting area was jammed with people. Now the admiral and I had about two and one half hours between our connecting flight to Victoria, and it started to look as though we might not make it. Add to this that we had to retrieve our luggage and then go back through security after taking our long-suffering luggage back to Air Canada for our fifteen minute jump over to Victoria.

While we were picking up our boarding passes from the Air Canada attendant, she pleasantly asked us how our day was going. Well you know what they say — if you don't want the answer, don't ask the question, and I mentioned that all was well until we arrived at customs and immigration, where there was a horrendous backlog. I also mentioned that we were nip and tuck for our flight because of the delay. The lady looked at me as the moron that I am, and carefully explained that it was always like this at that time of day, because there were so many flights arriving. Well duh to me. Even MacDonalds put on more staff at peak times, methinks.

My only suggestion is that anyone wishing to see the 2010 Olympics should start arriving now. By the time that they clear customs, they may make the venue that they wish to see.

Just had to get my annual bitch off my chest , but in fact it's been a blast — until the next time!!

And that's a wrap.

Beijing, as in China

Hard to say too much about Beijing, as we were on a power tour — two days to see it all — not going to happen. We did the best we could with what we had. I'll start off with how clean it is. Verrrry clean. Maybe the locals get incarcerated if they don't keep it clean, but for a city that has nearly the entire population of Canada, we could take some pointers. On the down side  — it was cool, much cooler than we had become accustomed to, and of course we had much previously send anything even looking like warm clothing, back to Canada. The cleverness of this is that it would also allow us to purchase additional new items to overfill our suitcases. After a quick run to a shopping center, we now have even more to bring back, however this will probably be on our backs.

Our first tour in China was to the Summer Palace. I guess that when you are Emperor and you get tired of your regular palace, you have but to command that another palace be built for a change of scenery. Bear in mind that this is in the same town, but maybe travel by rickshaw is not that comfortable. To keep palace A and palace B from being too much "same same", the summer palace was built by a lake. A small difficulty was that there was no lake nearby, but easily rectified by digging a hole, by hand, to a depth of about 10 feet, and covering several hundred acres. Now you have only to fill this with water and it becomes a lake. Simple eh? An added bonus is that the excavated dirt, when piled up high, very nearly becomes a mountain, and it is good luck to build a palace on a mountain. You might also build three island in your lake, as it is good luck to have visible islands in your lake and voila, you have it all. Now there is no point in having your own lake and not having your own boat, but maybe the emperor suffered a little "mal de mer" and so had his boat made of stone. This took a bit of the bounce out of the boat, but for those who wanted a feel of travel, a great mirror was erected on the upper deck, to catch the movement of the water below. This supposedly gave the feeling of movement.

It is amazing what you can do with unlimited funds and the patience of Job. Hiking the dirt from the lake up the side of the mountain that you are creating, in a couple of baskets on a balance pole, does not seem like fun — but then again, it only had to be fun for the emperor I guess.

The next day arrives and we are trying to cram the "must see" items into our remaining allotted time. We hired a car and driver, through the concierge, and head out. Our first stop — "The forbidden palace". Now in Beijing this is the palace of palaces. Huge would hardly describe the place, and the whole scam was for the exclusive use of the emperor. Well the emperor and his wives, well and his concubines, and maybe his poker buddies — but nay to mere mortals. It's just not that easy being emperor. Actually the last emperor spent most of his time in prison. He came to power at the age of four, I believe, so was somewhat lead about by his domineering mother. This gave her considerable power, which she obviously enjoyed. Not only did she chose his four wives, but she also picked out his many concubines. Now I saw photographs of these ladies, and if any of them were blind dates , they would best be described as having "wonderful personalities". Major lesson going on here — don't let your mother pick your dates, your wives, and particularly your concubines. Rumor had it that the emperor preferred the company of the eunuchs at any rate. At some point he must have become a tad more assertive, as his "mother dearest" had him placed under house arrest for ten years. He managed to get free about the time of the rise to power of good old Mao, who promptly had him placed under house arrest again. After a further ten years, Mao, in a moment of generosity, gave him his freedom. He took a look about, and shortly thereafter up and died.

From the forbidden palace we trundled on to Tiananmen Square , which looks much different without the tanks for crowd control. It is basically a large parade ground, surrounded by government offices. We didn't need to give this a big look, so set off for the "biggy" — The Great Wall of China.

We've all seen a hockey sock full of pictures of various parts of the great wall, but none of them are the same as being there. The wall was constructed of bricks laid in two walls, The gap in between (about 10 feet) was filled with earth and then topped with stone.These walls were some 15 to 20 feet high At strategic intervals, towers were constructed for a view of the surrounding area. All this in order to keep the Mongolian hordes at bay. The Mongolians must have been persistent rascals as well, for it took the Chinese 200 years to build the wall. I guess that you must take into consideration that the wall is approximately 7000 kilometers long, and oh yes, it is built along the peaks of the mountains. Nobody said that it would be easy — or quick. I would guess that it now attracts far more people than it repels, but it does take the breath away — or maybe it is the vertical climbing at high altitude. Definitely a sight to behold, and even better with Bonnie in the picture for a rare Kodak moment. Ignore the snowflakes, that is the best that Bonnie can smile when her teeth are chattering.

Back to Beijing to ready ourselves for the next day departure.

Xi An — terracotta at its best

Xi An, the ancient capital of China and home to China’s first emperor. We arrived by plane after making a quick change in Beijing. Cut it a bit narrow as we not only had to change planes, we also had to change terminals, as the domestic flights leave from a totally different area than the international flights. We managed to make it with the assistance of a young baggage fellow, who spoke a bit of English. Rather a rude arrival in Xi An, as it is raining and considerably colder than we had become accustomed to. Oh well — not to deter us as we have come to see the terracotta warriors, and that we shall do — regardless. With the assistance of our hotel, we arranged for a car and a guide, who are to meet us in the A.M., and so they did.

Now China’s first emperor, who was previously mentioned, managed to bring the many different groups under his own leadership. This was quite a feat, as they had previously spent all their time fighting each other. As he was patting himself on the back for this accomplishment, he also appointed himself emperor of all of China. I suppose that he enjoyed this position in life so much that he decided to carry it on into his afterlife, and thus the terracotta warriors. One must give his head a shake to remember that all this took place over two thousand years ago. Some ten thousand life sized soldiers were made from clay, and fired in very large kilns. These fellows were comprised of several different bodies, depending upon their position in the army, and their rank. They were also equipped with weapons, such as crossbows, spears etc. The heads of these individuals were cast separately, allowing for different facial features, and hairstyle, defining rank. These individuals were then painted in life like colors. In addition to the warriors themselves, there were also cast horses and chariots, a most formidable army to any invaders in the afterlife. Only about 10 percent of these antiquities have been unearthed, as the paint on the warriors deteriorates very rapidly when exposed to the atmosphere. The archaeologists have chosen to keep the remainder as is, until a method of keeping the paint can be developed. The tomb of the emperor is known, but is not being opened at present, for the same reasons. I guess that it stayed covered until the 1970’s, so any additional time is nothing in the big picture.

Our thoughts of Xi An were of a small community, basically there to support the terracotta warriors, —- wrong, this is a big city, several million people, as I guess befits the former capital of China. It was also the beginning of the Silk Road to Europe. Speaking of silk, we did go to a factory where they did the silk thing, also the terracotta thing, and oh yes, we did get samples of each. I suspect that one day is not enough time to do justice to Xi An, but then four days doesn’t scratch the surface of China. Our guide and our driver help us with our now “way, way too much luggage”, to the night train, for our trip back to Beijing — the final bit of our holiday. More to follow —

T

Halong Bay

Back on the “night train”, back to Hanoi. Home of “uncle Ho” — Ho Chi Minh that is. Still too many people and far too many motorbikes, but better than Saigon. We got to our hotel by the old French quarter in the dark of night, and got to sit in the lobby until our room was available. Mega tired, as contrary to my childhood memories, sleeping on a train is not blissful, with the hypnotic “clackety-clack”and gentle sway. The gentle sway is actually an unexpected tossing about, accompanied by banging and clanking as well as the clackety-clack. The up side is that our room is great and a nap is in order. The hotel will also allow us to leave the brunt of our ever-increasing luggage here while we spend a couple of days at Halong Bay.

We don’t intend to do a great deal in Hanoi, as we will be returning here prior to our trip back to Bangkok and then Beijing, but it is quite pleasant to wander about absorbing some of the old French architecture and the bustling, narrow streets. Little “mom and pop” shops everywhere — many in spaces no wider than a narrow hallway, and the sidewalks cluttered with parked motorbikes and food vendors, complete with sidewalk kitchens.  Chicken on a stick and “mystery meat”, everywhere. Oh, and a note of interest for the travelling public. It is pretty safe to eat even the “mystery meat” during the first two weeks of the lunar month, as it is bad luck to eat “dog” during the first two weeks. The last two weeks are a little different; as it is only bad luck then ,for the dog, and you may well get a “fido” sandwich.

Hitched a ride with a tour group to Halong Bay. We are staying in Halong for a couple of days — getting into our wind down stage methinks. Halong is a beach area on a huge bay. The bay is inundated with over two thousand limestone spikes, vertically thrusting themselves from the ocean floor. Many of these islands are of a sufficient size to support small communities, but the majority is unpopulated. A number of the islands are also homes to beautiful limestone caves, complete with stalagmites and stalactites, which we intend to visit. The bay itself is normally impressive, with beautiful blue-green calm waters, but we had to take their word for this as it was quite overcast while we were there. We made our arrangements for our boat tour to the caves and fishing villages, and the returned to our hotel and a little R & R.

An early morning finds me waiting, alone, for our car to go to the tour boat. Bonnie professes to a visit from General Montezuma, and chooses to guard the “hopper” in our hotel to that of travelling by boat, to parts unknown. I, of course, will take countless pictures so that she is able to “share the moment” when I return. Rather that than sharing her moment I think. The caves are really quite spectacular, caverns thirty or forty feet high with walls dressed in flows of limestone in many different colors. The colors have been enhanced by use of colored lights, of course, but are spectacular nonetheless. The caves have been re-vamped for the convenience of the tourist, with paving stones and stairs throughout the caves. Quite a sight!!

At the jetty, we watch the tour boats play pinball with each other, as they vie for position so that they may pick up their passengers and continue on their way. This banging and thumping of the boats is obviously not a new thing as it is all taken in stride — just another day at the office. Our next stop is a floating fishing village, which is comprised of float homes surrounded by pens, in which the locals keep live fish, destined for market. The locals venture out in small boats to catch the fish, which are then transferred to the holding pens. I assume that a pick up and delivery dude then transports them to market. Anything to make a buck.

Our return to Hanoi was as uneventful as our leaving, other than the rain. The rain even dampened Bonnie’s enthusiasm for shopping, well a little bit at least. It will only increase her enthusiasm for shopping in China, which I am certain will take place – regardless of the weather. More to follow at that time —

T

Sapa, by train

As passengers on the “Night Train” from Hanoi to Sapa, we were entitled to our own sleeping compartment. Well not really entitled, I guess, but if you paid a little extra you could have your own compartment. Have you ever watched those old “classic” movies  –the black and white kind where something untoward is going to happen on the train? Well we lived the feeling. I kept looking in the hallway for Alfred Hitchcock, I didn’t spot him, but I’m certain he was there. We arrived at the end of the line at 5:30 A.M. Now this is even before my breakfast, but we manage to extricate ourselves and our “way too much luggage” out of the train and into our car for the hour drive to Sapa.

Very hard to say too much about Sapa, from a scenic standpoint, but suffice to saw it was awe-inspiring. This is an area in the northwest of Vietnam that has historically been inhabited by the hill tribes, and there are many. The ones around Sapa are primarily Hmong or Dzao peoples, and they are evident by their costumes. Having very little to do, the women of these groups while away their time by harvesting hemp fiber and weaving it into cloth. They then have only to dye the cloth and cut and sew it into clothes. To counteract the drabness, they can then hand embroider elaborate designs on the new clothing, with threads that they have also dyed. Of course, as the dyes that they use are all natural, they get to harvest the necessary plants for the required dyes. Any extras, they can take to town and try to sell to the tourists. This may give them a few coins to purchase possibly a piece of meat for when they get to make the evening meal. Now I possibly make this sound as though they must do this every day — and this is not really the case, for in the planting and harvesting season, they must attend to the rice fields, and some days they must gather firewood and so don’t have to go to market. This is in addition to having their obligatory child per year.

 Bonnie and I visited one of the mountain villages and had a guided tour by some of the women folk. These were more the elderly, who spent most of their day with embroidery and tourists. One of the more “chatty” of the ladies looked to be well into her nineties — she was fifty-two. It must be that the clean mountain air is not all that good for you after all.

It probably sounds as though the women have to do it all, and this is not really the case. The men, for the most part, have to make the rice paddies and prepare the fields for planting. They do this with the help of a water buffalo, if they can afford one. Now making a field in mountain country “ain’t no easy chore”. The solution here was to form a retaining wall from rock, and fill the formed area with the soil that you scrape from the area where you got the rock. You then form a new area from the lower level of the rock retainer. Some of these retained areas are no more than five or six feet wide. The end result is a terraced mountainside of arable fields. These fields, of course, had to be both level and parallel, as they had to be able to hold water for the rice paddies. The men also had to tend to the tobacco crops and manufacture and distill the rice wine. The rice wine is actually more like vodka, and is mostly for the men. The tobacco is also only for the men. I guess that the women could join them, if they would ever hurry up and get their work done.

In truth, the mountain area is very beautiful and the hill peoples are very friendly and although they have very little, appear to be quite happy. I guess that we sometimes lose perspective of what is really important.

As their entire existence relates to farming in mountainous country, I was going to offer them another solution for land preparation. Now I am unable to take credit for this, as it was actually put forth by my old buddy Art, and he came up with the idea without the benefit of even a degree in engineering. He surmised that if one were to take a D8 Cat and knock the tops off the mountains, you could push these mountaintops into the valleys, soon having a nice flat field. I was going to pass this information on, but I could not see a single D8 Cat in the entire area.

Next — back to Hanoi for a couple of days, our final days in Vietnam, and then over to Bangkok.

Hue, on the Perfume River

Took a bus from Hoi An to Hue, which was the old capital of Vietnam during the Nguyen dynasty. Now this was the touristy bus, and even had some sleepy type accommodation for the weary traveler. The alternative bus travel would be the chicken bus, which I believe, gives preference to families travelling with chickens or goats or maybe pot-bellied pigs.

 I’m glad that I wasn’t called upon to drive our bus, as only an individual raised in the environment, or perhaps someone with a death wish, would attempt the traffic. Arrived in good form at our “new” hotel, and wow it was actually new. Not only new, but very comfortable, and under forty bucks.

Other than the usual shopping type adventures, the big day market and the obligatory street vendors, the majority of our time was spent at the tourist haunts. Had a private boat trip on the Perfume River. Don’t ask how it got the name “perfume”. I was afraid to ask and we were there. Well, in fact, the river did not look all that bad. Much better than many of the rivers that we have encountered. Now back to my story. We travelled up river for about an hour to visit a Buddhist temple and pagoda. There is a difference between temples and pagodas, but I am uncertain what is what. The pagoda here was several stories tall and had many roofs, more in the tradition of Chinese construction. Considering that the Chinese spent several hundred years trying to gain control of much of this area, I guess the construction is not that surprising. The event that sort of put this temple on the map happened in 1963, and those of you approaching senility along with the rest of us may recall the event. As a protest against religious suppression, one of the monks drove himself down to Saigon in the communal car. Upon his arrival, he exited the vehicle and sat down in the street, dowsed himself with gasoline and became a crispy critter. His memory is held with some reverence, and the old car is on display at the temple. From the temple, we returned downstream to see a small, floating, fishing village. It is more like a large cluster of semi derelict boats that never leave their moorings. People live aboard, and fish from the deck. They are able to catch skanky little fish for food and profit. Very little profit methinks, as no one appears to be moving up in the world. Our boat then took us back to our area and dropped us off. About four hours all told, and about twenty-five bucks. Heck, I think that it costs me that much to just flash up the engines in good old “Tawny Port”.

A new day, a new tour — we get a view of the Citadel.  The Citadel was built along the lines of “the old city” in Chiang Mai, but is newer, and in much finer condition. It is comprised of an outer wall made of bricks, and is some 17 kms long, having fortified gates every kilometer. The actual citadel is another walled enclosure, inside the larger compound. This enclosure, also made of brick, is surrounded by a man made moat. The citadel was for the ruling monarch. The area between the moat and the larger compound was for the minions, the military and the buddies of the ruler. They could live in this area, which offered considerably more safety than that afforded the mere mortals outside the walls, not to mention a rather good buffer zone for the ruler. The entire structure is very complete, and even suffered minimal damage during the Vietnam War.

Next leg Sapa, nosebleed country, and the highest in Vietnam.