Paris to London eurostar/London/train North to Willington

Paris to London. Leaving our beautiful Paris apartment behind (it was very French) we headed for the Metro towing our bags. Here I would like to mention that we had done a sorte to Gaire de Nor railway station to check the feasability of getting there by Metro or by taxi - Metro had won. Also I would like to mention that the day before we left we had helped a very grateful man along the street and down the steps in the Metro with his brand new, boxed, 45inch Plasma TV. Today we arrived with 2 x 21kg trolley bags, 2 backpacks, 1 computer carry case and my trusty handbag and everyone walked either side of us, ignoring us as we struggled down flights of steps to the platform below. I am not complaining though - one has to take responsibility for ones own luggage - just pointing out the role of Karma. We got there in one piece and because we had done our sorte we knew exactly where to go and what to do for the Eurostar to London. Problem was we were there far too early and faced a 2 hour wait to check in. People watching was on the menu again and, literally finding the best and only seats at the station, we did just that until check in time. Waiting in the departure lounge we once again seemed to attract people - this time a little old lady attached herself to us. She was French but lived in London, had endured a very unhappy marriage - and still was - had been visiting her French mother, who was suffering from Alzheimers and was in a French home, which she did on a regular basis. Later on we would meet up with her again and Gary would invite her to join us for a drink in the bar where we were going to buy our Oyster cards for London. She would happily agree but insist we sit in the carriage joining area of the train on jockey seats where I would become horribly travel sick (not something I normally suffer from) and not recover for the rest of the trip whilst she happily finished off my glass of wine from which I had only taken a sip. Arriving at London St Pancras station we set about following Brenton's clear instructions on how to get to Baker Street Station and the Metropolitan Pub which was next door. We had timed the Eurostar to arrive roughly when he finished work so we could meet up somewhere, have dinner and then go home to Lewisham together. His instructions were perfect except for the last note which said the pub would be on our left as we came out of the station - it was actually on our right!!! Complaining bitterly later on about the lack of escalators in some underground stations such as Baker Street which meant we had to once again carry our heavy bags up and down numerous flights of stairs and really this did not cater for the tourist market in the least, he laughed his head off and said there were escalators in all underground stations. No not in Baker Street! Yes in Baker Street. There are, apparantly, two exits - one with stairs and one with escalators and it all depends whether you turn right or left as you leave which would have been why we turned right and not left to the Metropolitan!!!!! (We did not mention at this point that we had headed to the top of a long flight of stairs, carrying our bags, which led to a locked door marked "emergency exit only") Just too embarrasing. We spent a great week with Brenton in what was for me his new flat. Bless him he had given up his bed for us and slept on the couch. He had been shopping and filled the fridge and cupboards with goodies for us too - thinking about all the things we might like. He was working most of the time but we managed to have fun togther though. We went to see the show Wicked together, met up with Andrea and Chris from Nelson together, visited the Tate Gallery together, went to a London Market and generally had a lot of fun. He even cooked for us which is something I didn't know he could do so well. We were lucky to spend the time we had with him because he is a very busy person these days. I miss him a lot lately and appreciated the fact that he went out of his way to give us a good time. The time we were not with Brenton we spent a day on the hop on hop off bus touring the London sites, would invariably get on the train up to London sightseeing on a daily basis, went on a boat trip down the Thames, walked the Milennium Bridge and along the embankment, down all the little lanes that hold memories for me - Samuel Peeps, Allhallows, Three Barrels and Stew Lanes. Our Oyster cards paid dividends -  we could travel bus, train or underground for a week at the swipe of a card. We went to the Tower of London and Tower Hill underground station which was where I, as a 16year old, would head on a daily basis when I worked in London. The station is the same but it is now a huge tourist area so the surroundings are very, very different. We met up with Eddie, Gary's grandson, who is an actor in London and also works in a pub in Earls Court. We spent a good few hours with him catching up which made his Gandy very happy. It was the first time he and I had met and we got on really well. He is a very nice, confident young man. Some days in London were sunny some were overcast but to be honest the main reason for being in London for us was for Gary to catch up with Eddie and for me to spend time with my eldest son Brenton - everything else was a bonus. Saying goodbye to Brenton once again was very hard and our next stop was meeting up with Russell and Pam in Willington, Derbyshire for a week on the Mersey and Midland canals in Juliet. The day we were due to leave there was a traffic accident in Lewisham and traffic was backed up for miles including the buses so, once again, we were forced to walk with our bags this time to the train station at Lewisham. Though it took 35minutes we still beat the bus. Once again - steps!!!! Brenton had prebooked our train tickets to Willington so, back at St Pancras station, we hopped onto our train and headed for Derby - but not before setting off an alarm!!!! Struggling into a lift at the station with many others we heard this alarm bell ringing but the doors closed ok so thought no more of it even though it was extremely ear piercing until a loud voice rang in the elevator. "What is the nature of your emergency please - do you need immediate help?" This very nice elevator buddy lady quietly said "Do you think you may be leaning on the alarm button with your back pack?" and guess what - I was. Once again the voice rang out "State the nature of your emergency please". "No emergency the alarm button was pressed accidentally - sorry". With that the bells stopped ringing and Gary and I emerged red faced from the lift and in a great hurry. Our train went to Derby and there we changed for Willington. Over the speakers in the train "All passengers going to Willington please use first three carriages otherwise there will be no platform and you might break a leg".WHAT???? Off the train again, yes with all our luggage, we dash to the first three carriages and get on,  hoisting our luggage behind us. Willington is only 1 stop down and as the train slows we drag our luggage to the doorway in preparation. I notice this man smiling and he points to the doors on the opposite side. Ugh! "50 50 chance" I say smiling back. He was very nice though and asked if I would like some help with the luggage off the train. I was only too happy to accept his kind offer and when the train stopped he casually went to pick it up. "OOHH" he said "that's very heavy". "Kitchen sink" says Gary and they both step off the train with a case each. This is the only occassion that anyone has 'offered' to help me with the bag on the whole of this journey - apart from Gary of course. Well done whoever you were and thankyou from the bottom of my heart. So we are now in Willington and need to look for a taxi to take us to the marina. As we round a corner a lovely lady asks if we are Mr and Mrs Scott (not the right time to go into explanations that Gary is my never-to-be husband) and explains she has come to collect us. Wow what a surprise and how lovely. All aboard and off to the marina where we meet up with Russell and Pam going through a briefing and looking very confused and overwhelmed about the job ahead. More about that on the next blog though. Love to all Xxxxx  

Paris for Cathies Birthday!

PARIS

Arriving at Charles De Gaul Airport we sailed through customs ( and had the damaged case fiasco) then after getting some Euro’s went looking for a taxi. We were asked if we wanted one by three guys in suits, who were holding those name cards for people being picked up, if we wanted a taxi. We said sure. Next thing we were going out to the carpark and getting in this flash car… no meter? I said in my best French, “it’s 35Euro right?” (Having read it somewhere in our notes on the apartment.) He said what I thought was 35 Euro so we settled back and enjoyed the ride. We arrived at the apartment about 9.00 and he said 50 Euro! I argued for a bit and in French/English agreed to pay 40. Afterwards we found out we were lucky not to have been taken to a remote suburb and forced to pay a huge amount to be taken to the right place! Also the price is normally 45-50 Euro. It is a scam used by non-metered taxis. The driver was a big black guy as well. We got a bargain!

Now this next 6 nights in Paris is my treat to Cathie for her xxth birthday, so she had no idea where we were going. I hoped she wouldn’t be disappointed. I have to say I wasn’t feeling 100% either so just needed to get to bed.

We left our bags and checked out the neighbourhood as the apartment had not been cleaned. What an eye opener. It was all Iranian and West African. Not a white face to be seen. Even the shops and hairdressers catered for only these races. Have we landed in another country? Paris was not like this! Trying to be Parisian we sat at a bakery on a street corner and ate a baguette and had a coffee. Until the ladies at the next table started smoking! Everyone smokes here, mostly girls, walking down the street thinking they look sophisticated with a cancer stick in their hand. Yuk. This became quite an issue for us, as the no-smoking around food law has not got here yet. They don’t smoke in bars, but if you want to sit out at café seating on the footpath and have a beer and food you have to share with the smokers, who are so inconsiderate. If they have finished their meal they will light up without considering whether others next to them have or not. Anyway, I digress. An hour had passed so we went back to the apartment only to find the sheets hadn’t dried and would be another 2 hours. Wandering the streets in the area of Sacre Cour we were getting a bit worried about our neighbourhood. It was impossible to blend in and not look like a tourist!  We found a supermarket and bought some essentials like wine and cheese. Why is our NZ cheese so expensive?  As soon as we got back to the apartment, which was a nice cute little one bedroom place, we went to bed. It was midnight before either of us woke and sat up till 2.00am drinking red wine and eating cheese and crackers before going back to sleep. I was still getting worse, and it was Cathies birthday the next day. I wanted to take her to a show, but not feeling like this, so I hoped the sleeping would fix it. We had good wifi, so researched the things we wanted to do and decided to catch the metro and buy a 2 day hop on hop off Paris Tour. This was great and well organised with different routes to see different areas. We went everywhere and hopped off at all the usual sights. We went up the Arch De Triumph, went to the Eiffel Tower, went into the Notre Dame Cathedral, walked the river bank and had a beer on the footpath. ($32! ) The next day we finished the whole tour and left it a little late to get back to where we lived so had to walk from the nearest stop. It was Friday night and we had to walk through crowds of Iranian men all on the footpaths in their suburb. Cathie found it quite intimidating, but I just found it sad that Paris has lost its identity. Their immigration policy must be as bad as England’s. The next day we had decided to walk the Latin Quarter and go to the Louvre. We were getting good at the metro system now and found it quite easy. The streets around the banks of the Seine are full of interesting buildings and shops. Lots of eateries and pubs drew crowds of tourists and created a busy atmosphere. It was raining and so we went to the Louvre. We queued for an hour and a half to buy tickets and by then it was lunchtime so queued for another 30 minutes for food. It was afternoon and we still hadn’t seen anything! We had bought a guided tour by a CD device and headset but after half an hour still couldn’t hear it so Cathie took it back. They didn’t refund the money though, Five quid down the drain.

Anyway we spent 4 hours in the Louvre and saw most of the favourites, including the Mona Lisa, but it was so crowded and school groups added to the cacophony of sound with their high pitched voices. Honestly, I couldn’t wait to get out.

We had kept our tour tickets and headphones from the last two days and used the busses to get around and to get home. No one bothered to check that they were still valid. Good move.

Next day we organised to meet my Niece Kirstie and her daughter Maddie at the Place du Tetre by the Sacre Cour. It was a really hot day and we had a nice meal and a chat at the Café Catherine. It was wee Maddies 7^th birthday and she wanted to go to Paris to see some museums. Kirstie paid which was very good of her. It was great to catch up after so long. After saying goodbye to K & M we went into the Sacre Cour and then visited the Salvidor Dali Museum to see his quirky art and sculpture. The Place Du Tetre is a hive of artists, and buskers trying to make a living. There are some really talented people here but some are just plain pests that you just have to ignore. We had a great day but had to go and pack for our train to London the next day.

Hanoi to Paris

Hanoi to Paris. Obviously looking forward to being in Paris for my birthday and going on a Gary mystery tour because our destination was a secret, off we set from the Moments Hotel just after breakfast to fond farewells and hugs all round from the staff. Not sure what sets us aside from other travellers but we seem to have this effect on people where they become very attached to us. Anyway off we go in our taxi to the airport which is nearly an hour away. As you are aware we have had some experiences during our travels but i really do not wish anyone to get the idea we are becoming incompetent in our old age as this next story unfolds. Arriving at the airport in plenty of time we get our bags plastic wrapped and toddle up to the check in counter and present our travel documents and passports. We are travelling to Paris with a layover in Hong Kong of about 9 hours and the check in guy offers to book our luggage straight through for us which is great. All is going well until his face changes, he asks us to take our baggage off the weighing machine and pronounces we have overstayed our visas. Getting on his walkie talkie and clutching our passports to his chest he tells us to go with this lady to immigration. OMG Vietnam is sooooo anal about visas (you may recall the trouble we had with our visas getting in) and all that flashes through my mind is the programme "Border Control".We have apparantly overstayed by ONE day - well not even that really, maybe just a few hours, and this has come about because our flights from Hanoi to Hong Kong were changed by us without even considering our visas?????!!!!!! We are in deep trouble and start imagining ourselves being deported - nooooo, maybe the NZ embassy will come to our rescue and get us out of the awful Vietnamese prison we will find ourselves in. What will our families say. We discuss how this has happened between ourselves, no we have not been split up YET, so that we get our stories straight when the questioning starts. We continue to trudge along behind this pretty woman through the entire airport and in front of everyone to IMMIGRATION!!!! We are taken inside where all these uniformed people await us and the head honcho asks the young lady what the problem is. Our passports are given over by the pretty lady to the head honcho and a discussion ensues. We are not privvy to what is being said because it is all in Vietnamese so we wait and fear the worst. Our travel experience is coming to an end right here and now in Hanoi and we are going to have to head home on the next flight or, the cynical side says, this is going to cost us a lot in bribe money!!!!!! Neither of which happened. The pretty lady came back from the head honcho and said in perfect English - "all is OK, no need to worry, you can go back now and checkin for your flight". WHAT? With a huge sigh of relief we follow the pretty lady back to checkin and get our luggage checked right through to Paris, board the plane in the nick of time and say goodbye to what is, in our opinion, the good and bad of Vietnam. We enjoyed our time here but, as I said previously, it is definitely a land of contrasts. Arriving in Hong Kong we headed for the transit lounge and the Cathay Pacific counter to try to get an upgrade from economy for the 12 hour flight to Paris. "Oh no Madam the flight is oversubscribed in all classes due to the Traffic Controllers strike in Paris. All flights have been cancelled except your flight and all passengers transferred to your flight. There may be further cancellations later". This of course was the first we knew of the industrial action taken at Charles de Gaul airport which was scheduled to last 3 days and had started on the day we were booked to fly!!!!! So we settled in and waited envisaging a crowded 12 hour flight all packed in like sardines. It was a long wait. Honestly you can only people watch for so long and then your brain goes numb along with your bum from sitting too long on airport seats. Also Gary was complaining of  a sore throat which was getting worse and worse as his voice was getting hoarser and hoarser. Watching the leader board for the red alert to notify us that our flight had gone down the gurgler was really depressing however, when the flight was finally called, we were ecstatic. We had won that game of Russian Roulette, now to see if we were surrounded by screaming children and toilet needy people on the plane. To our surprise the flight was not fully booked with plenty of spare seats around the cabin and, better still, we had a spare seat beside us. We were very happy.  My recommendation though - do not fly Qantas or Cathay Pacific, the service is abyssmal. After 12hours flying and 20mins circling the airport in a holding pattern we finally arrived at Charles de Gaul airport - very, very tired. Cleared passport, immigration and Customs no sweat, looked down at Gary's bag and it looked like it had been dropped from a great height onto its head. It looked all twisted and out of shape at the top as though the frame had been bent. Disappointed this had happened so close to the end of its long haul journey we went back through Customs to report it to Cathay Pacific who were not in the least bit interested!!! Why? - because Gary could still use it!!!!!! (As I say avoid Cathay). Cutting our losses we set off to find a taxi and that turned out to be our next adventure. XX

Two More Nights In Hanoi

Two more Nights in Hanoi

 

After a great few days in Sapa , an uneventful overnight train trip back to Hanoi and a  4.30am check-in, we just went to bed and slept until lunchtime then went out and explored this wonderful city. We found the lake area and people watched, and generally soaked up the bustling atmosphere that epitomises Hanoi. On one occasion as we were waiting to cross at one of the rare traffic lights, there were at least a hundred motorbikes queued and some impatient ones started to ride on the footpath towards us. Of course as soon as one does it they all do it and we had to flatten ourselves to the wall as they rode by. Thankfully the footpath was quite wide. As I have said before, Hanoi is safe to go out at night, it is an interesting mix of old and new, the number of bikes is staggering and the place is alive. Well not at 4.30am, but they too have to sleep.

In need of a cold beer we called in to a place on a corner with plastic tables and chairs on the footpath. We ordered two beers and the young chap raced across to another shop on the opposite corner and we watched as he helped a girl uncover a beer barrel and put in a hose. It took some time and I figured it was not going to be cold enough so wandered over to check. I touched the first glass, a pint, and it was alright so went back and sat down, it’s all good. Seems the three ‘restaurants’ on the corners were all related in some way and served really cheap local made beer. It was so nice we had another one each. In the mean-time this old lady with gross teeth, came and sat with us and ordered some peanuts in the shells and insisted we eat them. I thought it was a scam and we would have to pay for them, but no she was just being friendly and we found out her age was 84 but nothing much else. The beer was so cheap and nice we went back for more. The only downside was on the forth corner there was an engineering shop grinding cast iron on the footpath. It was rather noisy and wouldn’t have been allowed in NZ. But sitting in small plastic chairs watching the antics of cars, bikes, motorbikes and pedestrians whilst sipping a cheap cold pint in the heat of the day, was somehow really relaxing.

I really like the place and would return again sometime. All of our Hotel staff were excellent young people. They were well trained and had good English skills. Cathie wanted to buy some of their chopsticks and a staff member was sent to the market to buy them for us. We paid 10,000Vnd but we saw them in a shop later for 25,000, so they really looked after us. We had to leave after breakfast the next day and one of the girls came in early to work to say goodbye to us. Hugs, kisses and photos in the restaurant, really sweet.

Now off to the Airport for our flight to Hong Kong and Paris.

Apologies

Apologies for getting soooo far behind with our blogs. Catching up now though so watch this blog. 4 new ones up today. Love to all C & G xx

Hanoi to Sapa

Hanoi to Sapa by Vietnamese train. In for a penny in for a pound as they say we had decided in Hoi An to overnight train to Sapa which was a journey of approximately 9 -11 hours. These tickets were booked well in advance by our delightful hotel receptionist in Hoi An and were "soft sleepers" with only 4 bunks in the same small cabin size. They come with a bottom sheet, a pillow and a duvet of sorts. Clean or not clean who knows!!!! Leaving our hotel by prearranged taxi we arrived in plenty of time to do some people watching in the waiting area. We must have looked pretty lost as we were approached by what we thought was a "train station worker" who asked if he could help us. This station was so busy with hundreds of people coming and going it was a relief to put ourselves in the hands of this English speaking man. He looked at our tickets and exclaimed: "these are only vouchers, you need to go to the other train station to exchange the vouchers for tickets then come back here!" "How do we get to the other station and how far away is it?" we ask. "You can take a taxi. You will need to go quickly to get back in time for the train". "NOooooo" I wailed "we can't do that we will miss our train". Meanwhile in the background Gary had looked at the tickets and had seen a number that could be rung but we had no local cellphone. "I will ring the number for you" the young man happily says and after a quick phone call in Vietnamese he announces that someone will come to us from the other train station and sort out our tickets. (Bear in mind these "vouchers" we had had "ticket" on them not "voucher"). "He will be here in 10mins"!!!!!! (10mins in Vietnam is the obligatory time that everyone quotes. If it happens earlier you are lucky but it generally happens well after). So we wait and we chat with this helpful young man who decides after 15mins to rephone the elusive agent. "He hasn't left yet but he is coming now" he tells us!!!!!! A short time later another young man approaches us and I gushingly say to him "oh thankyou, thankyou for coming". He looks slightly confused as the first young man says "no, no this is my friend I have been waiting for and I must go now - it has been a pleasure to help you". He was a traveller too, nothing to do with the train service, and amidst explanations and thankyous we said our goodbyes. Standing in a crowded station area with vouchers in hand and highly visible with concerned looks on our faces we wondered how this man from the other station was going to find us - but he did. With a few minutes to spare we got our reprieve. Not long after the magic door was unlocked and following the crowd over railway lines, past parked trains in the yard we found our train to Sapa. We are at the end again, in carriage 13 again, but so is the engine. Looking better. We climb the 2 and a half foot step up into the carriage easily as we are only travelling with a backpack each on this journey having left our main luggage in the safe care of the hotel. So to find cabin 13 and bunk 13 and 14. Yes! It is empty and we hold our breath in the hope it will stay that way. Making ourselves comfortable on our designated bunks we also have a complimentary bottle of water, a wet towel and toothbrush and toothpaste. This is different! Obviously crossing everything, and holding our breath to boot, was not sufficient as the door slides open and a Vietnamese man yells "this is my bed for my mother" and the mother promptly almost sits on top of me pinning me in. "Look, ticket ticket, this is my bed". "Ok, ok," Gary and I both say, "sorry, sorry our mistake" but I cannot get out of the enclosed space because mother is virtually sitting on me. "Look, look" and he keeps pointing angrily to the bed configeration on the outside of the carriage. "Ok we get it, just let me out and mother can have her bunk". Hands in the air in defeat I manage to squeeze out, Gary heads to the top bunk and I have the bottom one. This was not a good start to the trip and yes it was our mistake. We thought we had booked the 2 lower bunks but the lovely receptionist in Hoi An had booked the two left hand bunks. When 'mothers' son said his farewells we sat hoping she was upset enough to look for a new cabin to spend the night but instead she just used her cell phone presumably to let everyone know how unhappy she was. Anyway we finally got under way with a spare bunk in the cabin and settling down to read I made use of the spare pillow on the spare bunk. This was not a trip that necessitated salad sandwiches. Sometime during the night a fourth person arrived in our cabin (not sure where he came from as this was a non stop train) and realising he had no pillow apparantly kicked up a big fuss yelling down the corridor for the guard. Now I was fast asleep but, in my sub conscious, I could hear something going on. Gary however was wide awake and alert. All the conversation was in Vietnamese and at a very rapid and high speed. The guard comes into the cabin, sees I have 2 pillows and yanks the top one from under my head. Gary is on the top bunk yelling at them all to "fuck off" and I am wondering what the hell just happened. Eventually order is restored and we all settle down to resleep apart from those whose cell phones are going 13 to the dozen and that does not include Gary or me. Sleep did not visit us for the rest of the night and I was heard to shout out on a couple of occassions "turn those damn phones off"!!!!! Arriving at the station which serves Sapa and just in time for the sun rise, we were collected by a minivan which would take 1 and a half hours over the mountain ranges to take us to our final destination which was a beautiful hotel overlooking a valley of paddy fields and Dragon mountain. The rice terraces were magnificent to look at as they tiered each and every way down the mountainsides - a real testimonial to the stamina of the Sapa mountain people, who are called Hmong, and wear traditional dress as their everyday clothing still. We really enjoyed our time in Sapa which was very hilly but quite small. We walked a lot, found a great place for a beer and a reprieve from the sun, (Sapa is mountainous and it often rains but we were lucky), visited a Hmong village deep in the valley and went 3 up on a scooter to come back out of it. Bought our Northface jackets from a really nice guy in Sapa whose twin boys looked angelic but kept hitting me with North face walking poles when his father wasn't looking. Walked around the lake and stopped in at a beautiful old church on the way. The market was an interesting place with lots of Hmong women trying to sell their treasures under the guise of being "locally made in the village" but are freely available for sale everywhere. It was here that a local Hmong schoolgirl attached herself to Gary and spent about 2 hours wandering around Sapa with us. She spoke English beautifully which is why we couldn't shake her however hard we tried - she wanted to practice her English non stop. She looked about 13, they are a very miniature race, but was 16 years old. We see a bright future for her if she ever is able to leave Sapa and explore the wider world. We only had 3 nights and 2 complete days there but it was time to go back to Hanoi and get prepared for Paris. Our return sleeper train trip was uneventful. We shared our cabin, correct bunks this time, with a father and daughter from Germany and slept like babies knowing that Hanoi was the final train destination and that when it stopped - we got off. We grabbed a taxi to our hotel where we arrived at 4.30am to a street totally opposite to the one we knew and was unrecognisable. We had only witnessed the street during the bustling day and evening time and at this time of the morning it was deserted. The night porter welcomed us and we were to stay a further 2 nights before heading to Hongkong and ultimately Paris. X

Hanoi - Halong Bay

Hanoi – Halong Bay

Our Hanoi Hotel was called the Hanoi Moment. Centrally located in the old town with great access to the shopping streets and markets. There are 17 million people and 5 million motorcycles. It is fascinating watching the traffic flows at roundabouts and intersections. They travel pretty slowly and seem to ignore anything on their right just missing other bikes and cars. There is no tooting of horns or aggression, just a chaotic mass of moving bikes. You’ll get 200 bikes at a set of lights which have squeezed past the busses and cars to get to the front. Some have whole families of 5 on board. A three year old standing on the foot well, a five year old between mum and dad, and a seven year old behind. All on a two-seater motorcycle! Sometimes the mother will be nursing a new-born and feeding it, and I once saw a 4 year old standing between her fathers’ legs reading a book. Confident youngsters stand between mum and dad with hands on the drivers’ shoulders. No helmets, no safety gear they just seem so at home on the bikes. There were very few traffic lights in Hanoi in relation to the population, and we did not see one traffic jam, it just flowed and cars slowly edged their way through intersections. Take a lesson New Zealand. Hanoi is vibrant and bustling and safe to walk around. We ate street food on little plastic stools, (remember our Facebook photos?) walked to markets and just absorbed the sights and sounds.

After one night here we were picked up next morning for a 3 hour bus ride to catch the boat to Halong Bay, where we spent the next three days/two nights on a 3* Junk. It was quite an expensive trip but all food was included as well as kayaks and sightseeing. There are 12 cabins on board allowing for 24 passengers, but only half were occupied. We anchored the first night in a secluded bay close to some sea caves and cliffs towering out of the sea. In spite of the fact there were about 200 of the 600 similar boats out on the bay, we were lucky to be so private. There were just 4 other boats close by. The food was incredible - 11 course lunches and dinners, with huge quantities and great variety. Cathie doesn’t like some fish types so was given a special menu with chicken and beef. We kayaked, we swam off the boat in the evening and socialised with the other 10 passengers. That evening before the meal we had cocktails and a cooking lesson on how to make spring rolls. We all had a go, with varying success. Cathie managed to score herself a huge bruise on her arm as she slipped off the ladder getting back on the boat after a swim. Have you ever tried to lift something up when you are in 10meters of water? I had to cling to the ladder behind her and help her get her leg out from between the rungs. It didn’t help that the ladder curved away under the hull of the boat and so the top was leaning backwards. Quite an effort for her but a shower and a few beers soon bought it right.

The second day we were split up from the one-nighters and transferred to another day boat for more kayaking and ended up with just 4 American girls who had just graduated as Doctors. We both enjoy Kayaking and explored some caves and what seemed like volcano craters filled with sea water. The landscape is quite strange with high sided islands poking out of the sea. Millions of years ago it was all under water. The food was just as good and we had a nice relaxing time. We visited a floating fishing village, and a pearl farm which were interesting.  At the end of the day we were taken back to the original boat to meet our next lot of passengers and repeated the first days plan. More food. Our cabin was small with an en-suite, which got quite smelly at times as the septic tank fumes came up through the plug hole, but the shower had a magnificent view. We steamed back and met the bus for another 3 hour journey back to Hanoi Moment Hotel, where we had left our big bags. We only took backpacks each. We arrived at about 4.30pm and then had to wait until 8.00pm for a taxi to take us to the train station for our trip up to Sapa.  We went out for a meal to fill in time and wandered back via unfamiliar streets and got completely lost. We had to get a taxi back to the hotel as it was getting late and we were going around in circles. He simply drove us around the corner and stopped….we were that close!

Another overnight train trip looms!

Nimh Binh

Ninh Binh – and ‘Halong Bay on land’

The next morning we formally met David the owner of the hotel. We had slept until 11.00am, (without sheets and just on top of the mattress cover!) and went down for our free breakfast. He is a 37 year old who made a bit of money speculating in the gold market a number of years ago and worked in the hotel trade as a manager for several years, after some international training. He had pride in the fact that the hotel he worked for was No1 on Trip Adviser, and when he decided to build his own hotel he was determined to get it to the same status. He has done this in the first three months of being open!

He has built a compact hotel on a back street in Ninh Binh which at the moment only has TWO ROOMS. It is three storeys high with the two rooms on the first floor and on the top floor it is unfinished with a rooftop laundry and storage with the stairs leading to nowhere. The plan is to build another three floors. His total spend so far has been $70,000US. The room we had was 5 star quality and clean. He sleeps in the kitchen on a pull-out bed and all of his ‘stuff’ is in storage cupboards neatly concealed. Everything is well designed and thought out. He was educated and studied to be a doctor, but changed careers when he needed to work to pay fees and never went back to it. An enterprising young man, who also does all of the cooking and organising the tours etc..

We sat down with David and he planned out our days for us. First day we had a car and a driver and went to see some caves which were only accessible by boat. The rower expertly took us through some very pretty and scenic caves via about 7km of reed lined waterways. It was peaceful and serene and we took many photos.  A bonus was that we shared the boat with an English speaking Vietnamese girl and her Canadian friend. We were thus able to communicate with the male rower and ask questions. He was a gentle man and rowed some of the time with his feet. An amazing experience.

Next day we hired David’s motorbike and went to a national park. It was a 120km round trip in the searing heat on unfamiliar roads. We got lost and went through some delightful villages where we had to wind our way through the hay and rice spread out on the main road to dry. In some places we had to drive over it. Passing through one settlement we heard a whistle blowing. Peep peep peep, peep peep peep, peep peep peep. I carried on and Cathie said did you not see that Policeman? Oops!  I wouldn’t have stopped anyway, as we had heard that they make you pay bribe money to be let go. I didn’t have my licence on me either! At each intersection I had to refer to the GPS on my phone to see where to go and eventually found our way to the park entrance. We paid our money and were taken to see a monkey sanctuary where they cared for sick and orphaned rare monkeys. It was a whirlwind tour and a little disappointing. Nothing like our Gibbon Sanctuary experience. Next we rode the bike 7km into the park to see a prehistoric cave which was inhabited 5,000 years ago. It was a bit of a hike in the bush and up steep rocky paths to get there, but we were in no hurry. It was quite a feeling to be where prehistoric man had lived for thousands of years. The cave system wasn’t large but apparently several families existed in it at one time. Next we had to find our way back to civilisation, which we did by a bit of guesswork and ended up on a motorway in rush hour traffic. We pretended we were in the Amazing Race and aimed to beat everyone at the traffic lights. That worked. Lane changing was done with skill and a bit of fat pinching by the pillion passenger alerted me to any danger. A great day out with Cathie getting relaxed enough on the back to be able to take pictures and video.

On the third day we again had the car and driver and went to a temple, visited a village next to it (where I helped a young girl carry buckets of cement, while the men just wanted me to smoke a pipe of some sort with them), and then went to another lake which had towering islands and secret caves. We were alone in the boat with a female rower this time and it was once again very peaceful and quite beautiful. Some of the photos are awesome. We interacted with her throughout the trip but when we returned to the jetty Cathie gave her a Kiwi key ring and 20,000vnd tip. This went down like a lead balloon… she refused to take the money and was obviously upset as she considered it wasn’t enough. Based on an average income of $80 US per month, we figured it was ok for a mornings work. She got paid as well! Cathie was very upset too and it sort of ruined a great experience.

We were so busy each day we didn’t really get a chance to see the town of Ninh Binh, but it seemed very bustling and busy. A good access to ‘Halong Bay on land’.

David had arranged our onward bus trip to Hanoi for which we were picked up from the Hotel at 4,00pm. An hour and a half later we were delivered directly to the pre-booked Hotel which had been recommended by our girl in Hoi An.

I have to mention too, that our three night stay at The Vancouver Hotel only cost us $3.72. We used our accumulated Agoda credits to pay for the rest. Nice one.

Train from Quang Binh to Nimh Binh

So the train journey from Quang Binh to Nimh Bin!!!!!!! Trying to keep our spirits up as we faced this 12 hour train trip on a hard sleeper we sallied forth to the station to wait with the gathering crowds. Railway stations are very different in Vietnam as we were soon to find out. Everyone waits together in a room with a locked door which, when unlocked, allows you access to where you board your train. When the train is imminent the door is unlocked and everyone rushes out into the train yard. So this is what happened to us and we went with the crowd to find our train, our carriage and our cabin. The train pulls in and we are right at the end - carriage 13 - so we head that way with our baggage and backpacks etc. as the sun is falling below the horizon. Eventually we reach our destination way past the end of the "cultivated" yard and are aghast. OSH would have a field day! We have crossed railway lines without any controls in a dimly lit yard and now we have a two and a half foot step up into the carriage with our 20kg bags as there are no platforms just the rails that the trains run on. This is OK though because Gary and I have devised a plan and working in unison and sweating excessively we get the bags in and take a flying jump to follow them. Now to find our cabin. First of all though visualize everything, literally everything, being designed for very small Vietnamese people. So we arrive at our cabin to find a Vietnamese family of 3 ensconsed there.  They boarded in HCMC and two are on the bottom bunks and the third is on a middle bunk - their eyes open wide in amazement as we enter the minute cabin struggling with our bags. So you still have a mental image of the size of this compartment and our next issue is - where are we going to put our luggage? Macgyver to the rescue. Gary susses out very quickly that one of our bunks will have to be given over to luggage and we will have to share the other.(we have booked two). Struggling to lift, twist and place the bags x 2 in such a confined area on the top bunks takes a master, so Gary quickly jumps to it watched, but not helped by, the 3 other males in the cabin. I am busy at that time working out the logistics of how I am going to get into the 2nd tier bunk without losing my dignity so was of little help. Bags stowed I confess to Gary that I don't think I am able to get up into the bunk at all but with some gentle persuasion and really no alternative I hoist myself in and find that I have got myself wedged and sandwiched in half head to knee. This is where I will be forever grateful for Yoga. Trying to get my brain to work out have to unsandwich myself in this extremely confined space gave me a headache but after much laughing I am finally lying flat hugging my handbag, my tablet bag and my backpack. I am quickly joined by Gary who very nimbly catapulted himself into the bunk. Amidst an extreme tangle of arms and legs we finally managed to top and tail and find some degree of comfort. "But where are my sandwiches" Gary cries. Before we left we had some very, very expensive, very flimsy salad sandwiches made for us at the hotel and we had treated them with the utmost repect throughout. "In the top of your backpack" I say and he hauls them out licking his lips as he considers eating them there and then. Changing his mind he decides to wait until the hunger pains set in and we both settle down to try and get some sleep. Yeh right! Between pressure sores and the constant need to reposition ourselves and the Vietnamese family cracking open a picnic every 2 hours below us sleep was hard to come by. Water became a non essential because there was no way either of us could get down and back up again to visit the squat toilet on a lurching train (not that we wanted to any way) but our salad sandwiches called. "Where's my sandwiches" cries Gary (remember they are priceless and worth their weight in gold) and he pulls out from underneath him a plastic bag of squashed, flattened, warm, oozy stuff. Well we were hysterical and as I am writing this we are laughing so much our sides are splitting. What a sight for sore eyes but he still ate them!!!! 12 hours we spent there in that narrow, claustrophobic bunk - I would liken it to an MRI scan! At some stage the Vietnamese family tied a sheet across the door for security so it was a noisy entrance when our final "bunk buddy" arrived some way down the track. Now he spoke English so we gleaned some useful and vital information from him like - how long it would be before we needed to get off or the general ETA at Nimh Binh which was estimated at 11.30pm. He was getting off before us and I think quite concerned re our welfare (totally unnecessary of course) so he invited us to get off with him and stay at his house and he would take us to our destination the following day. That was very sweet but we had accommodation booked and we knew that the owner would be waiting for us to arrive. We were to ring the bell and he would get up to welcome us regardless of time. Anyway we survived and due to our ETA knowledge we got ready and off in time - albeit 2hours late!!!! Grabbing a taxi and paying way, way too much for it (another scam) we finally arrived at the Vancouver hotel having followed Gary's instructions derived from his GPS??? Jumping out to quietly ring the bell due to the unearthly hour whilst Gary paid the driver I was beaten to the bell by the driver who just would not stop ringing it. "No, no" I whispered, "he will come stop ringing it". "No, no" he yelled "he not come, me ring some more". "We will be fine - you just go please?" and off he sailed into the sunset grinning from ear to ear at the exhorbitant price we had paid for our 5minute trip. Turning round we came face to face with a dishevelled, sleepy eyed David and all we could say was "it wasn't us it was the taxi driver!" Very nice David showed us to our room and hastily returned to his bed. Dropping everything where we stood, thoroughly exhausted we turned "something" down on our bed only to find it had not been made up. There was nothing but a mattress protector to sleep on. Oh well, never mind, anything is better than a middle bunk on a hard sleeper Vietnamese train. Night all, sweet dreams xxx