Maxed out! I'm coming home!!!

Well. I was coming home anyway, as y'all know. But on Saturday, when the old ATM took um bridge with my MasterCard and spat it back out minus required funds, well I figured home time isn't a minute too soon.
Not that I'm not nervous or anything. It was Geordie Jonnie who described being so nervous that 'me bottom was puttin' like a donkeys nostrils...' If that's me (and I'm not saying it is because I'm a Laydeeeeeeee) then it could be nerves or the spicy beef salad and curry me and the Jayster have just had as a farewell meal...
Arrh. Just said my goodbyes to him (again) as that lucky sod gets xmas with his family in Western Australia this year due to Big Sister marrying out there. But that just means I have two weeks ahead of him to adjust to being depressed in a UK winter...

So I'm in Bangkoks Subywhatzit brand-spanking-new airport writing my last travelly post. Are you sad? Ahhh dont be, will go out with a few more tit bits I promise. After I got back from Vietnam the 2 weeks just razzed by in a blur of Bangkok Christmas shopping and more free nights out. We did manage another trip to Kohpangan for the Monster Raving Full Moony Party with A&D which was a total mission to get to. After Andrew dared us to get a bus ticket, J and I found ourselves meeting him outside a travel agent at 18.30 to get the bus. Due to it being the Kings Birthday (and I have told you, they lurrrve their King) the city streets were RAMMED and so was Koh San. There were yellow t-shirted Thais everywhere, and even a huge firework display over the city, and of course, lots of traffic. We set off very late but still managed to arrive very early in the morning in the dark at the catamaran pier. As we get off the bus it starts to rain. Quite heavy, in the dark. Everyone is grumpy, cold and tired. I get stung on the knee by a wasp and didn't realise that wasn't the only thing attacking me, as the mozzie bites on my legs the next day testified. As the dawn broke, we could see the sea was choppy as you like, and the little 'made out of toothpicks' pier was looking more than a little overcome. Nevertheless the catamaran operators (who had access to weather reports and knew a typhoon was coming) insisted the boat was coming and that we would be taken.
In the mists of the morning we could see the boat lurching towards the jetty, and as it pulled alongside the huge mob of us waited to get on the gangway, bracing ourselves against the rain. As the deck hands tried to dock, we were allowed up the wooden gangway towards the boat- the deck was literally bending under us and the waves unexpectedly picked up pace again. The rope the deckhands had just managed to tie to the pier suddenly ripped off one of the jetty's massive metal support posts. The Thais started shouting 'Go back!! Go back!!!' and everyone in the lashing down storm had to to turn back lest we all ended up in the sea. Then the catamaran sped off and left us all there....
Cut to the chase it took us another hour sitting in the port to realise we were not getting that catamaran. Then we had a 3 hour drive in a mini bus to get to the TOWN of someplace near the large ferry port, then a fight with the minibus driver much to Andrews embarrassment, then new tickets to the other ferry, then, i dunno, 5 hours on the ferry until finally we touched down on Kohpangnan around 7pm and then we were expected to party. The most annoying and unbelievable thing about all of this was Decha arrived about half an hour after us and he'd only set off from Bangkok that morning. Arrrgh!!
So the full moon party (part deux for moi) was a different kettle of fish than when I went in April. We grabbed a posh expensive beach house that had a king sized bed in, splitting the cost between us 3 and a couple we met on the ferry (French bird and Aussie bloke) so that we could shower and get changed and have somewhere to stay. Decha, like the pet party animal he is, appeared after monies were sorted..... Then we walked through the WALL OF SOUND that was the main trance and techno tent on the beach and got wrecked. Memories of that night are hazy... but as the sun rose over the beach, despite it being littered with freaks of all shapes and sizes dancing away amongst the party debris in their dayglow body paints and fisherman pants, the hills, sea, rocks and colours still managed to be really beautiful. No kidding. Due to my ear drums being near perforated by the insanely loud sound systems of the beach, I was pretty much deaf by sunrise and had a bit of a 'Saving Private Ryan; beaches of Normandy' moment when everything was muffled and my party shocked eyes roamed across the beach spectacle; two girls with their trousers rolled up, sitting on plastic chairs and chatting away, oblivious to the tide swamping them; a man being washed around the tide in his clothes- until his mate finds him and gives him an earful before hugging him and dragging him to safety; the people swimming and dancing in the sea, and the people on the beach who were dancing dancing dancing so hard as if the world would stop if they did. And some ridiculously ripped German looking geezer with stripy green cycling shorts on,a bare chest and hair like Vanilla Ice, tribal dancing like the Haka to his mates whose brains had dribbled out off their ears earlier on and were helpless to do anything but be forced to watch....
Man, it was a total freak fest. Ace.

So then. Our last night and a final farewell night to Andrew & Decha. It was sad. We got some Tiger beers from a little shop and mingled with the Koh San Road massive, swigging whilst sitting on the kerb watching the human circus pass by. I thought about how I was going to miss never having to take a jacket out with me, and the habit of warm weather clothes. Was going to miss the street food, and the endless supply of random people you meet when travelling. The most important plans revolving around having fun, finding somewhere great to visit, and discovering the gems of my own; favourite restaurants, bars, beaches, cities, countries, people and romance. I knew it was going to be hard to go back. But Id been homesick for a while, even though I knew it was mad to feel so. But normal life is what keeps a trip like this magical, you know, gives it some perspective. So I guess there was nothing else for it but to get on the plane to Manchester....

A Rant about Roomies and the Lovely Vietnam

So, like I said, I was supposed to head off to Vietnam via the Mekong Delta the day before I actually managed it but the mini bus didn’t come. So I resigned myself to a wasted day on a tight schedule and decided on what should have been a restful early night. Except my temporary 'room mate' put paid to that. The aussie girl the boys and I had teamed up with was a bit of a mixed bag really. Kate is 24, fairly quiet, travelling alone like myself, and had actually just come out of a 3 year relationship. This of course meant that she seemed to get plastered on most of the nights since I had met her due to 'relationship-kickback'. We've all been there and done it. But this is Cambodia, not Butlins. As for us, well it wasn't as if we'd 'hit it off' but rather it was convenient for us girls to share a room for costs. Once or twice the Irish lads had to more or less watch over her while other 'sharkier' blokes spotted the easy meat, but they were very understanding, laid back gents and didn't get annoyed at her at all. I probably wasn’t as understanding as they, as on her penultimate binge she'd lost my second pair of Habianna flip flops when she was dancing in front of the tuk tuk drivers outside the guesthouse at 3am, and had kind of pissed me off. Anyway the night we went to the FCC Kate had not gone back to our room. She'd left at 9am that morning and now it was 6pm. I thought; 'Well, she’s a big girl, I'll leave her a note and she can find us if she likes'. We get back at 11.30 and the room was as I'd left it and she'd been out for 15 hours. Sounding a bit of a worry wart I got one of the boys who had her number to text her and ask her to text us back to let us know she was fine. She didn't. I thought 'If that girl is not back by the morning I'm not going to be able to catch my boat because I'll have to check she's okay'. It was 5am when she smashed into the room, pin wheeling and swaying with 2 Cambodian guesthouse staff following her in. I’m lying only wrapped in a sarong on my bed. I sit up with a start as she snaps on and off lights and slurs something about the staff not believing she was staying there. So I hiss at them that she does, this is my friend now get out. They salaam, and apologise walking backwards out of the door. I'm annoyed but roll over. She gets up and staggers out of the room. The same thing happens, in fact twice more over a 30 minute period where I am not sleeping at all due to random Cambodia staff walking in, plus the light switching on and off and Kate staggering about the room. I seriously want to punch her in the face. In the end the sun is up and coming through the window. Kate staggers in, still crossed eyed drunk, and lies down and I think 'Good, I might get 30 winks before I have to rise'. Then I hear a soft 'click' of our door opening and I look up to see a Cambodian man- not staff- creeping into our room! I just shout/scream 'FUCKING GET OUT NOW' and he looks horrified and waggles Kate’s leg and whispers 'I want to go home now'. She gets up and leaves the room again and the penny drops that she'd been trying to sneak some guy she'd met godknowswhere into our room. I mean Christ, aside from the fact that we have lots of stuff worth nicking, aside from AIDS factors and other nasty surprises pulling a bloke like this might have, how fecking rude to behave like that in a room share with someone you hardly know? There’s a certain amount of trust you have to give into sometimes when travelling but she had totally taken the cake. She then came back into the room, slurred something incomprehensible and passed out on her bed like a star fish. I got up, showered and packed, and went to the lobby to wait for the pick up. I was fuming so much I told Fop, then Kev, then Steve the story, ranting and raving until Steve asked me when I was going to shut up. I had a proper 'McGlynn' temper on me that morning and was glad to see the back of her. But still, I was about to get on the Mekong baby! No time for whinging. When the mini bus got us to the boat for the border river crossing, the iron barge in front of us didn’t hold much promise. We were told it was just for one ride- it looked like that might be all it had in it. We get to the checkpoint, stamp out of Cambodia and then hand our passports to our new Vietnamese guide San so she could do I dontknowwhat to them. As soon as we were on Vietnam soil I spied beautiful Vietnamese girls and children hawking stuff, the girls in the wide cone hats and slacks. We sit down at a restaurant to wait for the passports back and order some bowls of Pho Bo (beef noodle soup), only to be surrounded by children all offering massages- well not offering- doing in hope of some payment. After that we were on the Mekong, sailing past the the riverside dwellers doing their fishing, washing and going about their daily business. They ALL waved. The children would run out of their houses- or across bridges and waved- or jumped into the river to show off- then wave. The fishermen and women all seemed quite pleased at the boat going past and I realised after travelling for so long that you just don’t get that kind of response from other foreign countries. Usually yes they want your money, but yes they then want you to piss off pretty soon. Or else you can only have a photo opportunity for money. But not here. My arm ached from waving so much- I know how the queen feels now. When we arrived at the village of Chau Doc I was knackered and had to have a sleep rather than explore. Fop went for a walk and was chased around the town by excited children shouting ‘Hullloooo! Hullo funny man!!’ I guess down this way, tourists are still a novelty but it was really charming nevertheless.
Over the three days we visited riverside villages selling silk wares, a floating fish farm and the floating markets. These markets sold everything from fruit and veg to …coffins! Small boats would pull alongside selling coca cola and there were general stores and well, everything. Floating. Very good. Then we went down a small river under many monkey bridges (just poles and rope to cling onto as you cross the pole) and then to a vermicelli factory. Felt like I was on a school trip, snapping away and being very impressed. On our last night we four got a little lairy in a French café over looking the river on the local beers. Steve and Kev burst into their usual rendition of Pink Floyds ‘Wish You Were Here’ and in one bar a very camp young Vietnamese guy asked if I knew ‘Sealed Wi’ A Kiss’. I was like ‘Jason Donovan???’ and he grinned and nodded madly. I was drunk, so I agreed. He then requested Celine Dion. I told him I was drunk, not mental. Then we ended up in some ‘Fast Show’ style Karaoke bar but luckily it was closing as we got there. So we screeched back via an overburdened rickshaw and got in some z’s.

We got to Ho Chi Minh City, aka Saigon, late Friday evening. We get some digs, and head out for a bit of food, minus Steve who showed his age and crashed out ;) To be fair we were all a bit bushed. The next morning I headed off for my half day tour with ‘Happy Tours’ to the Vietcong tunnels museum. Ace. First they showed you a film of how ‘The Great Vietnamese People Won the Oppressing Americans’ and also how they lived underground, how they took American weapons and used them for their own use, how everyone in Vietnam was part of the effort and how a small country could resist such a powerful country as America- i.e; with cunning and determination. It was mildly amusing- as was my guide Mr Juan. He joked, he told many stories and ‘ooh-la-la’ed his way through the day. At one point he showed us a small rectangular hole in the floor- about the size of a box of chocolates. Apparently this was big enough for a man to fit in. Yeah right. Then some Vietnamese man sits down, puts his legs, then hips, and finally, whole body into the hole. Then he takes a little wooden lid with leaves stuck to it and covers the whole- effectively disappearing. After he pops out again Mr Juan is like ‘Who wants to be a hero?! You Miss!?’ He points to me and I’m like ‘NO WAY, my arse will truly get trapped’. Everyone is staring- so I reluctantly go and try. To my surprise I fit! It was cool- if not a little spooky. Then lots of people have a go and the only geezer to have a problem is some stocky Aussie bloke. After that we check out the booby traps (yikes) and sample some of the local potato (minging). Eventful. Then we get to crawl thought the VERY claustrophobic tunnels that become pitch black as soon as you leave the entrance. TINY!!! ue to my fear of guns I passed on the offer of firing an AK47 at the museums firing range. It was SO LOUD. I couldnt bear it. Made my bones shake. After getting back I have a spot of lunch, am harassed into buying a book of a very insistent and rude pirate book hawker and then go back to the guesthouse.

That night I meet the boys for dinner. As we walk along the road we amazingly bump into Kate. Greeeeeeeeat. I think the lads thought I was going to be horrible and ignore her, or say something about her disgusting behaviour. But what can you do? I was vaguely pleased she hadn’t got herself killed and tried to show willing by asking her if she wanted to join us for some food. She did, and after that we ended up in some dubious Siagon bar (whooooers bar Fop called it) where after a few too many vodkas I told Kate she needed to sort her act out if she was going to travel alone. I wasn’t mean, but I did get the point across and can only hope she’s since switched her brain on. Anyway wont go on about that again….

I had a plane to Hanoi to catch that lunchtime so Fop accompanied me to the War Remnants Museum. I know I had a hangover, and that it was hot. And that I lacked sleep. But that place- its evidence of brutality and absolute lunacy that occurred in the Vietnam war actually made me go the ladies and be sick. A couple of times. It made me dizzy so I had to sit down. Photos of suffering due to ‘Agent Orange’, photos of slaughtered communites, two baby feotus’ in glass jars (deformed due to Agent O) and account after account of war crime and slaughter. Too, too much. South East Asia has seen some dark times this past 50 years and no mistake. Eventually Fop suggested I should call it a day and have a lie down before my flight, so we moto cycled back and then I said my goodbyes to the boys, the Northern Irish Gents, who had become my firm friends. They were probably glad to get some rest for their ears as it was pointed out more than once that I do not shut up.

So what can I tell you about Hanoi- seeing as I was only there two days. Well it has an ace Night Market on a Monday with some great food stalls. I sat down for a bowl of the lovely Pho with another local beer when I was joined by an old couple from Brighton. I cant recall the lady’s name, but Spud, the husband was an MOD worker with white hair and large Michael Cain black rimmed specs. They were lovely! After chatting with them about this and that Spud paid for my soup and beer and sent me on my way. It was like having temporary parents turn up out of the blue! I spent my last day strolling around pretty Hanoi, window shopping and taking the odd moto cycle around town to see what was to be seen before taking up a lakeside bench and reading my book. Hanoi is really, really pretty. That night I ended up befriending Nick the Aussie in a rooftop restaurant. He was stranded in Vietnam because his girlfriend had come to visit him and then flew off to Hongkong with his passport by mistake. So poor old Nick was hanging around waiting for it to turn up in the post and by now his visa had expired. Rather him than me- Vietnam is a pain in the arse when it comes to Visas. But still, had a bit of company and didn’t feel a sad loser in a restaurant on me own ;)

And so that was that! The next morning I flew back to Bangkok and realised that I only had to weeks left before heading home…. My God….