Iran receives missile shipment

Enough said.

Malaysian Customs

Here's how things work...

I order some toys from the States, thinking I'm getting some good discount.

The stuff is sent, and I await my loot patiently.

I get a PosLaju from PosMalaysia telling me my stuff was detained at Customs.

I had to drive 75km to KLIA, plus an RM6.80 toll each way, and try to release my stuff from the Customs.

They told me that I have to fork out 5% for import tax, and 10% for sales tax.

WTF??

Oh, that makes a total of 15.5% tax by the way... The sales tax is calculated after the import tax is added in. You have to pay a sales tax on your import tax. What sales tax?! There's no sale involved! It's for personal consumption! You're detaining my goods, and EXTORTING me for 10%?!

Wait, it gets better.

This tax is on your Cost & your Freight & the Insurance on your Freight.

Double WTF?!

I had to pay a sales tax on the import tax of the insurance for my freight! And let's not forget that this was freight for goods that was only half delivered to me, and was costing me an additional RM30 just to pick it up from the airport myself....

The shipping was USD78 for gosh's sakes!! I am getting taxed for my shipping!!

You know what this feels like? It feels like having your German Shepherd hit by an 18-wheeler truck, and seeing it smeared across 2 miles of highway. Then receiving a bill 2 weeks later for the road crew cleaning up the guts off the highway...

And this is just an innocent hobby!!

If I had been importing a shit load of Clinique eye-shadows, I would have been safe, cos that crap is tax-exempt. But if a friend overseas were to SEND ME A PRESENT, I'ld be taxed to kingdom come!


So, here's the thing now...

All these tax stuff? It's at the disgression of the customs officers. They have a big book on what's taxable, but that's just guidelines. They don't want someone to get hold of that book, and find loopholes to avoid custom duties. So they have the disgression to say what goes or not.

I'm not a charming fellow, nor having a gift of gab, nor the boobs to turn men's heads. But I am able to look pathetic. This comes from dressing comfortably & modestly, wearing hair that hasn't seen a comb in weeks, and youthful looks that make people think I'm 5yrs younger than I actually am.

Eventually, he only gave me an 8% tax on the whole thing, cos he trusts me that I'm not a rogue trader, and that I really did buy all those toys for myself. That's the kind of disgression that the customs guys have.

That still took a bite out of my savings, but it didn't completely obliterate all of what I saved from ordering overseas.

Lesson learnt: make smaller orders. Merchandise worth less than RM500 will be released through customs with no problems. Anything more, even a gift, will be taxed.


And on the way back from KLIA, I passed an over-turned poultry truck. Not a pretty sight. Dead chickens scattered all over the highway. So, those of you in Klang Valley, do stay off the discount poultry for the next few days. Just in case someone tries to sell the roadkill.

DVD Media

Sometimes, my Search-Fu turns up some incredibly informative websites, but I often forget them again when I need the information later.

So here, I'm bookmarking it on this blog.

If you've got a DVD-R burner, you'll find this useful too. Because if you have mountains of data to backup, you'll appreciate knowing what kind of DVD media you should use.

I recently gambled and bought 100pcs of DVD-R discs. They were irresistably cheap at rm48 per spindle. Turns out, this batch was made in Singapore, supposedly one of the places with better manufacturing processes.

We'll see.

Finally... I can delete my ...um... "backup" of Battlestar Galactica.

OOTS: #309

Lots of funny cryptograms in the latest Order of the Stick.

Have been getting lax about putting up the translations. But here it is:

Panel 3: Elan, I'm in love with you.
Panel 5: Elan, I'm in love with you. Completely in love. Love, love, love, love!
Panel 7: My dad is being held ransom by an evil dictator. I'm not really in the thieves guild anymore.
Panel 9: I cheat at solitaire. I have a tattoo you've never seen. I kissed a girl once. OK, OK, more than once!
Panel 11: Elan, it turns out I may not be exactly what you would call -

Did you guys know that the best place to get the fastest translation is on the Giant In The Park's own message boards? Check it out here the next time I don't deliver the translations.

Antike: Risk on 'Roids

Played a fantastic game last weekend...

Friday night, I dropped by my friendly local gameshop to pick up a book: Primal. It's a much anticipated book that many of us had waited ages to get. Got a special price due to my status as PressGanger, a position I might elaborate upon some other time.

There's quite a good crowd at the shop that night. Many were there for Primal, either to buy, or to hassle those who bought it for a quick read.

Yes, this is what I do on some Friday nights. No pubbing, no dancing. Completely devoid of wench nor wine. Just basking in the camaderie of fellow gamers.

Then someone brought a new boardgame: Antike.

It is a game of conquest, almost like Risk, but runs much faster with no dice-rolling for combat resolution. Antike is German for Antique, refering to the age of the ancient civilizations around the mediterranean region, like the Greek and Arabic civilizations etc.... probably...

We got a group of 6, mostly first (me) or second time players. It took no more than 15min to learn to play, and another 10min to get a feel for the flow of the game.

You collect resources in the form of gold, marble, iron or coin; which you then spend to build cities, troops, galleys, temples, technology etc. Sounds simple, and it really is.

But the action is fast paced, and the tension is sharp. It requires constant vigilance of your borders, and non-stop mindgames with your neighbours to anticipate aggression.

I won the first game I played by feigning weakness all through the game while my neighbour's aggression was diverted elsewhere ^_^.

Everyone was so charged that they couldn't stop at just one game, and we went another round even though it was already midnight. This time I was most aggressively attacking, but victory eluded me.

Got home at 2.30am, still too charged to sleep. The moment I closed my eyes, the math and numbers rattled unceasingly in my head, trying to come up with a superior strategy to dominate the board.


The guys who brought the boardgame will be putting the game up for play at their new cafe opening on 1st May.

Be sure to check out:
The Settler's Cafe
32, Jln SS22/21 Damansara Jaya
47400 Petaling Jaya.


This is affiliated with the Settler's Cafes that are already enjoying popularity in Singapore.

And here's the correction...

There's the profit-taking action...

But with each correction, the market gets stronger... The short term speculators dump their gold when they've taken some profits. And then the true believers will immediately catch the lower prices and further build up their positions. Thus the roller-coaster ride from 540-620-645-605-620-613.......

Now the dilemma... Head out and buy more now... Or hope that it'll sink further to 580?

The Midas' Touch

I have been monitoring the price of gold for almost two years now. When I started in 2004, the price was 380USD/Troy Oz. Today, it just hit 640/oz.

The price has been climbing steadily ever since. I've been telling almost everyone who'll listen on how risky stocks are now, how inflated real estate is, how interest rates are frighteningly low, and how commodities is where the next boom will be at.

But then, a conspiracy nut like me carries little or no persuasive force.

About 2 years ago, Warren Buffet took out his money, sat on a lot of cash in foreign currencies, and bought a whole lot of silver at slightly more than 5usd/oz. Today, silver is at 13.80/oz. Maybe somebody will listen to him instead?

I bought my first 5g of gold at 390/oz. Would have thrown in a lot more, but my finances were distracted by my apartment. And during this time, gold rose to 460/oz. Even when I had some money to invest again, I procrastinated until it went over 500/oz.

I'm glad that I added to my position last month before this recent explosion. But I curse my hesitation for not doubling or tripling that position.

At such high levels, there's bound to be some profit-takings soon, leading to a price correction. I can only hope that it'll pull back to less than 600 again so that I can buy more.

Kg Sungai Pusu

It's somebody or another's birthday today. Don't really care. The public holiday is the thing.

Moses came up with the insane idea of hitting Kg. Sungai Pusu. In the abscence of better ideas... why not?

This is a small village up near UIA, in Gombak, near the highway that goes to Kuantan. The village gives access to the trails into the Gombak Forest Reserve.

Parked our car at a gas station, and cycled 5km to the village. Bumped into another group of bikers there and got some directions from them.

The trail guide as described in the KLMBH website is no longer accurate. Somebody is trying to build some kind of apartments between the village and the forest reserve. Not sure what the deal is with calling it a forest reserve if people can just come in, chainsaw up a swath of trees, and level a mountainside and build as they like.

The old way into the forest no longer exist. Instead, have to go around the construction site and climb up a muddy slope.

It was a good thing that the other 4-men group caught up with us, and showed us where to go.


Got mud everywhere. Sticky yellow mud. Mud in the gears, in the pedals, in the brakes, on the suspension staunchions... I shudder to think of all the work it'll take to get my bicycle cleaned and lubed properly again...

Mud kills moving parts. The suspension of clay particles is a lovely slurry that will grind away moving parts. Mud got into my disc brakes, and cleaned off a good layer of braking compound till I lost all grip whatsoever with my front brakes. Had to readjust the brake pads.


We followed the guys up the muddy hill, into the forest, and downhill till we hit a stream where we could take a break.

The trail is very damaged. 4WDs had cut deep into the trail, and subsequent rain had eroded those tracks into mini gullies more than a foot deep. Much unlike Kiara, where MTB enthusiasts regularly repair such damage. This Gombak trail gets no such love, and it's just going to go from bad to worse.


We didn't even manage to make it to the lake. And Moses was ambitiously hoping to cut thru the reserve, and come out from Zoo Negara, some 20km away.

By the time we climbed back up... pushing the bike most of the way, we've done a solid 4hrs in the trails. Not a bad day's work.

There were some sphincter clenching downhills that were an absolute thrill!

And I also got to test out my GPS in the jungle canopy. No deal. Disappointed that I can't get a fix most of the time. Probably need to upgrade to the latest Garmin 60CSx which uses the newer SIRFiii chipset that is more sensitive and can even pickup radio signals reflected off buildings and such.... But that's worth almost the price for a Troy ounce of gold...

Joker x4

Just came back from a holiday in Hanoi.

There's a bit of back-log at work, but not as much as I feared. Still, it'll take a few days to take care of them before I can begin blogging at work.

I took a few notes during the trip. And in the days to come, I can begin to serialise my trip.

Won't be a lot of pictures here though...

I didn't pack my camera.

I carried a single back-pack, with 7.5kg of clothing, a toothbrush, 10 AA alkaline batteries, and a small sleeping-bag.

No toothpaste. No razor. No books. No PDA. No phone. No charger. No camera. The only electronics I brought was a wrist-watch and my GPS receiver.

It was a 9 day holiday, with 3 old buddies, whom I will proceed to introduce...

Benjamin Chua, http://tehtariksatu.blogspot.com.

President of this photography club, favours artistically framed shots.
Fussy eater. What's the big deal with boiled dog?


Ravinder Singh
Favours panoramic shots.
Master of the irrelevant, irreverant comments.


Wee Loong
The man for soulful portrait shots.
The chief reason that made this holiday most enjoyable. Teaching him to play Bridge was a non-stop laugh-fest worthy of a Monty Python skit.
Gets into verbal duels with 8 yr old girls.

Norman Chuo
No camera. GPS navigator. Keeps the group moving in the right direction.
The enemy of class. Sneaks yau-char-kuei into Parisian-themed cafes. Gets gas-y after certain foods.


There are many advantages to travel in a group of four. Taxis. Room arrangements. Sleeping berths on the train. But most importantly: Bridge!


The Holiday:
Day 0: Getting to Singapore
Day 1: The Flight
Day 2: The City
Day 3: The Sea
Day 4: The Train
Day 5: The Trek to Mt Fansipan
Day 6: The Tribes
Day 7: The Kidnapping
Day 8: The Bulge
Day 9: The Return

Hanoi Day 9: The Return

Last day in Hanoi.

Pretty much bored with the Old Quarter already. But isn't enough time to venture much further either. So just walked about and picked up some last minute souveniers.

Saw a couple of overweight Vietnamese today finally. Apparently, they only come out on weekends.

Lunch was buffet dim sum. Again, not impressed by their attempts at chinese food. But ate well, and I finished off the last of my Dong.


Cab to airport. Flight back to Singapore.

WeeLoong worked quickly and got phone numbers of the stewardess. It seems that one of their perks was that they get to fly anywhere on Tiger Air for free, and bring up to 5 friends too.


New low cost carrier terminal.

Ben lost his luggage. Spent a fair bit of time sorting it out.

Last meal together, and squared our accounts with each other before we went separate ways.

Bed at 1am... Not looking forward to waking up early to make my way back to KL and start work...

Hanoi Day 8: The Bulge

Quote of the Day:
"Is it just me, or was there a bulge in his pants?"
---Ravinder Singh---

The train pulled into the station way too early in the morning. Wasn't much to do but to hike back to the Old Quarter to find ourselves some accomodation, hopefully one that will let us dump our luggage with them until check-in time.

When we got to the lake, we were greeted by a most unusual sight. There's a crowd doing a Para Para Sakura routine at the park, at 5 in the morning. There's even a boom-box and aerobics instructors. It was... most interesting to see...

But all that energy seemed a mockery of our state of sleep deprivation. I blame WeeLoong. If it weren't such a laugh playing Bridge with him, we might have gotten more sleep.


I found an ATM and managed to withdraw some money. Visa Electron is THE best way to manage your vacation funds. I didn't have to worry about carrying a lot of cash, nor about ending up with unused Dong at the end of the trip. Bank conversation rates, but an RM12 bank charge per withdrawal.

And I have money again!! The world had missed its chance to rid itself of my evil! My buds could have abandoned me broke and penniless on the mountains of Sa Pa (and there's no ATM there). But now I'm back! And Norman's evil shall prevail !!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

We found a Pho shop opening early, and we had some great breakfast.

The people here are amazing. They're dressed before 5, finished their aerobics by 6, and the breakfast places are all ready for business. They're amazingly industrious people.


After breakfast, the REAL Salute Hotel was open for business. I logged the position of the hotel when we were exploring Old Quarter, so it was easy finding it again.

After dumping our bags, everyone felt we needed a caffeine shot. We found a classy Parisian-themed cafe directly next to the lake. Well, I thought it was a bit too much class. So I proceeded to take my sandals off, laid my feet up on the low barrier around the lake, and ate YauCharKuei that I sneaked under the table, while dunking them in my mocha coffee.


We headed towards the Ho Chih Minh Mausoleum first, before it closed at noon. There's a long queue of tourists, veterans, school children, government representatives etc all waiting to see the embalmed body of Ho Chih Minh. No electronics were allowed in, and we had to pass through a metal detector. My YauCharKuei was confiscated at this point. I suppose they don't want people to munch at the show.

Well, the mummy was amazingly well preserved. Everyone gets to walk around the display case, and back out through a different exit. It was an orderly, and respectful affair.

This also provides the context for Ravi's Quote of the Day...


We hit the HCM Museum next. It's a very large memorial to the life of an amazing man who commanded the love and respect of an entire country. There are lots of photos, archived documents, artifacts, sculptures, dioramas etc. There are helpful guides who offered to help us with the stuff that we won't be able to read. But we didn't have the mental fortitude for the history lesson so we passed on the guide and just looked at the exhibits on our own.

Came out of the museum feeling a respect this man who has done so much for his country. Museums are often propaganda-ish, and tell a very one-sided story. But this memorial is sincere and heart-felt. Is it right to feel more respect for this communist leader, than I have for the fore-fathers of my own democratic country?

WeeLoong wanted to take a picture of someone High-5-ing a photograph of HCM. Fortunately, we were able to dissuade him. Else we might have gotten lynched by the patriots.


After this, we saw the One Pillar Pagoda, which is miserably dwarfed by the two large monuments around it.

Then headed north to the West Lake, just for the sake of seeing it. By which time we just wanted to get back to the hotel and sleep the rest of the day away.


Dinner at Little Hanoi, proudly advertising itself as being featured in Lonely Planet. The food was over-rated.

Hanoi Day 7: The Kidnapping

Everyone slept well, despite the incredibly foreign environment. Good clean mattresses and thick futons make for a very cosy bed. Ten to twelve hours of sleep refreshed all of us. And despite my physical fitness regimen back home, I still woke up with some aching muscles. All the cycling I do pretty much neglected my calf muscles. And wearing pliable sandals, my soleus/gastrocnemius had to absorb a lot of the impact from the climb down the valley.

Breakfast was pancakes with chocolate syrup. A little disappointed with all these 'western' meals. Wished we could have more local foods. But did have some glutinous rice cakes that the hostess made the night before.

There also happened to be a festival at the village square today. Some new year, spring, pre-planting celebration. Pity it started only in the afternoon, so we weren't able to catch the event. Our trek today carried us ever onwards.

We took some final pictures with our host and guide, before we were kidnapped by a gaggle of Black Hmong women...

One lady grabbed my hand, and whisked me away from the rest of the group. We pounded onwards relentlessly, often half a kilometer ahead of the others. Almost everyone had a 'helping hand'. Dinh has an excellent rapport with the locals, and recruited the bunch of them to help us over the mud-slick trails. Wee Loong was alright on his own. Ravi needed two helping hands.

I was rescued a couple of times as I hopped recklessly along the treacherous trails. The Slatters were great, but not infallible. Then my lady swiped a bamboo walking stick for me from a farmhouse, and it was easy going the rest of the way. She knew only a few words of English. Her favourite words being, "Vely goooood!" in various contexts.

We were hopping from one paddy terrace to another most of the way. Also cut through a swath of bamboo forest, where the surest footings on the steep slope was to step on the stumps of felled bamboo. With the tactile feedback of sandals, it was no problem hopping up like a mountain goat. But sandals do have their failings.... like when I mistook a pile of buffalo dung for a dark coloured rock. "Not goooood."


We passed by my lady's casa, a typical Hmong dwelling: old dirty wooden walls, dirt floor, and livestock in and out of cages around the perimeter. She proudly suckled her youngest while we waited for the others to catch up. She's 35, but looked more like 55, and has five young children. The oldest child takes care of the others while mommy earns the bread. Daddy, the house-husband didn't seem to be around, although he didn't have much to do until planting season begins.


We finally stopped for a rest at a waterfall (N22 17.675 E103 54.016). That's when the Hmong women revealed their ulterior motives for helping us on our trek. It's an excellent sales technique... first soften up the targets with gratitude, then guilt them into making the sale.

This was where I was cleaned out. My last USD10 went into some pillowcases, a bag, a bracelet etc. All useless souvenier stuff. And now I'm penniless. If they could take Visa, I might have bought more. But being broke is liberating in its own way. I could now turn all the saleswomen away by showing them my empty wallet.

Unfortunately for Ravi, since he ended up taking up all the slack.


Just a little further ahead, we came to our final rest-stop. From here, we would make one last climb up to a Red Dzao village for a look see before coming back again for lunch.

Ravi got freaked out by the word 'climb', and chose to stay behind with all the Hmong women for company. The rest of us headed onwards.

The trail was wide and easy. Nothing much to see by way of scenery. The Dzao just like to live apart and isolated from the others. But we got clued in about some Dzao legends. It seems that once upon a time, a demon attacked a Dzao village and killed a lot of people. After some investigation, it was found that the demon had found its way to the village because a Dzao woman had dropped a strand of her hair in the demon's hunting grounds. Having thus established the blame, it was then decreed that all women had to cover their hair with a red turban, and shave their eyebrows from that day forth.

What a witch-hunt. Well, at least the women have a place to keep their wallet...


We poked our head into the house of a 'shaman', although he would be more accurately described as a master of ceremonies. The house had a different layout than the Hmong and Zay abodes we've seen thus far.

There's a huge wok in the kitchen for cooking up bathwaters. Bathwaters are cooked with a mix of herbs. Some of these herbs probably have disinfectant properties, since it's a communal bath. Family members take it in turns, in order of seniority. I'm guessing that the baby bathes in the murkiest muck, thus the coining of the idiom, "Don't throw out the baby with the bathwater."

The Dzao bathe daily, but change their clothes weekly. The Black Hmong bathe weekly, and change daily.


We made a short circuit of the tiny village, then came back to where we left Ravi. Had lunch, a bit of rest, then crossed the final bridge, and trekked up to Cau May (N22 18.021 E103 54.257), where a jeep took us back to the hotel.

Thus, concluding the most fantastic tour I've ever had! All for the low low price of US$18!!


The hotel was good to give us showering facilities, even when we've already checked out. Thus the advantage of booking your tour from your own hotel. It took us a considerable effort to become presentable again, but we had time before the last mini-van down the mountain at 6.30pm, and catch our train to Hanoi at 8.20pm.

WeeLoong had to use this time to make good his promises to buy some souveniers from the girl he had the Loser-fight with. I had a last walk around while dodging Hmong girls. They wouldn't let me leave until I've convinced them that I'm REALLY flat broke. And then, they couldn't wait to shove me aside and redirected their attentions to Ben and WeeLoong.


Dinner at a restaurant Dinh recommended before we parted ways. Excellent call. Can't remember the name of the restaurant, but I could show you where the next time I'm in that neighbourhood... Must try the duck.


On the journey down, I got a sight of the Sa Pa lake, from out of a moving van, and in between two buildings, a milisecond glimpse of a beautiful lake, an acquaintance that fate had denied us.


There was a bit of time to kill back at Lao Cai. We sat down for a drink. Some concoction of condensed milk with a few drops of coffee dripped on it. There was enough sugar to jazz up a fat blues singer. WeeLoong wasted not a single moment, hitting on the drinks vendors by pretending to be Vietnamese. Don't ask how he managed it... He does, what he does.


We got a slightly smaller berth this time. Different train than the one we came in on. Made no real difference. It was Bridge again for most of the ride.

Hanoi Day 6: The Tribes

Need a good breakfast this morning. Some omellete and stuff to give us lots of energy for the walk ahead. Noticed that a bowl of Pho is the same price as a small cup of coffee. So I say, screw the bitter diuretic, give me some of that hearty soup!

I'm doing the trek with my trusty CamelBak, carrying everything I brought with me to Hanoi. It was an issued challenge, and I stood to earn a cup of Irish coffee. The rest of the guys dumped their excess baggage in the hotel's store room.

We met our guide, a young man named Dinh. He's a fresh history grad, home for a couple of months before his teacher's training begins. He speaks good English, and is full of stories and gave us an incredibly personal insight of how the educated class sees their country today. What a freaking bargain!


It had rained the night before. Our trail was muddy and slick. But on the plus side, the mist had cleared and we had a fantastic view of the mountains, the terraces etc.

The road to the villages start directly SE of Mountain View. Go 2.7km along the tarmac road until the trailhead at (N22 19.169 E103 51.426), next to a little shop. Then go south and down and get intimate with the mud.

Along the way, you'll find small boys selling bamboo walking sticks for 5k Dong. It's not essential, but it gives you immeasureably better footing on slick slopes. I went the first day without a stick, and picked up a free stick on the second day. There's a big difference, for a small price.


I was psyched about the route we were taking, because it was taking us to a geocache! I checked http://www.geocaching.net for searchable caches before I left home, and I was pretty excited about this one. The trail we were following fitted the descriptions, and I was sure that the guide will lead us past the bridge in no time.

But we missed the cache by 230m. It seems that we were skipping the bridge that would have taken us to Y Linh Ho. I didn't realise we were off course until too late. To this day... I still can't figure out how I got turned around... we were heading east, paralleling a stream, then cross the stream and turned right, and we were still going east....

But just as well... As it happens, another geocaching group was there just the week before and had taken the Travel Bug that I was after...


After we hit the stream, we were walking along the rice terraces. It was still some months from planting season, so right now the terraces were merely swimming pools for ducks, and jacuzzis for buffalos. There's no path through the terraces. We had to balance ourselves on the embankments. Ravi's pants was the first that could not resist the lure of mud. Dinh's pants followed immediately after while he was helping Ravi up.

Word of advice, you can't balance or stop a fall with your arms when your hand is holding onto an expensive piece of optical electronic. The Olympus came away slightly stained but otherwise unscathed.


There were some concerns earlier about the sandals I was wearing, whether it was good enough for the muddy trek ahead. I didn't pack hiking shoes for the trip cos I wanted to minimize gear, and maximise comfort. But these were good sandals: Slatters, which I bought in Melbourne. Not as good nor as cheap as the Salomons I had been wearing for years earlier until the straps had started disintegrating whilst the sole remained in near mint condition. But these sandals gave me good grip, probably better than Ben's Asics, gave me good feedback of the terrain that I'm putting my foot down on, I can easily wash off the mud at convenient streams when it becomes slick, and it dries easily. The last is very important in the high humidity.


All through the trek, Dinh kept up a running conversation about many aspects of the life in the mountains, or in Vietnam in general.

The rice growing season. The penetration of education into the tribes. How they're taxed, and how the tax collected is immediately put to use to improve the villages in the form of schools or grid power. How the fields are inherited. How the fields here are exempt from government control unlike the rice fields on the deltas, which are ruled by the land reform laws. The gender inequality amongst the minorities.

At the same time also, he steals blankets and pillow cases from the basket carriers of passing Hmong girls. He has an excellent rapport with the locals.

We taught him a malay word: "Buaya."


We kept going east until we reached a bridge and a foodstop, where we had some lunch.

After a brief rest, we went across the bridge to the village of Lao Chai, which means market or something. And past this village, we finally reached the village of Ta Van (N22 18.144 E103 53.313), where we stopped for the night at the homestay (N22 18.004 E103 53.633). 11.6km trek in total today.


The homestay is very comfortable and cosy. It's a brick and mortar windowless house belonging to a Zay family. The house had to achieve a certain standard of hygiene before it can be licensed as a homestay. The house is made up of three chambers. The middle, where the front door opens into, is the living / dining room and where the altars are; the left chamber is where the beds are; the right opens to the kitchen. There's a mezzanine level with comfortable mattresses and warm blankets for the homestay guests.

I brought a compact sleeping bag all the way here, but it seems that I won't be using it at all the whole trip.

I think Ben might have been a little disappointed by the arrangements. I think he was visualising Mongolian char-siew-pao tents, sleeping on the grassy plains under a velvet starry sky. Too much period chinese TV series. These are agrarian tribes. I suspect Ben's wanderlust will carry him to the plains of Mongolia next.


And for the first time since we came to Hanoi, we were served complimentary drinks! The homestay owner was generous with the tea. Ravi still has to pay for his liquid bread, of course. We tried to have a tranquil moment on the patio, but that hope was dashed almost immediately when were were beset by Hmong saleswomen.


We put up our best efforts to hold on to our money, but it was a losing battle.


Dinner was very generous. There's a lot of fresh meat, which Dinh must have brought along with him. In the villages, they seem to favour meat jerkies. Our host also bought "Happy Water" for the meal.

It's a potent rice wine, made locally. In Dinh's estimation, it may be 35% alcohol. It was delicious! It goes down like a depth charge, and will likely sink a sailor. This is how I've always imagined what liquor tastes like.

But this liquor can only be safely imbibed in these villages. If you try to order them elsewhere in the cities, there's a high risk that the drink will be mixed with methanol. And that stuff makes you blind.

The Happy Water incapacitated Ben and WeeLoong for the remainder of the night.

Ravi & I managed to stay conscious and chatted with Dinh till the late hours of... 8.30pm. Early to bed and early to rise is the norm here. The kids, watching TV at a neighbour's, actually stayed up later than the dad.

We spoke of many things. The marriage traditions of the tribes. The going rate of a Zay bride (3 buffalos, 5 pigs, a large measure of rice, and silver bullions). The Zay have arranged marriages. The Black Hmong 'kidnap' their brides, with her consent of course. The Red Dzao have a more open marriage, and frequent the Love Market. Can't remember which tribe has the bride being 'inherited' by the brother-in-law or even father-in-law if the husband died. No sense letting a workable womb go to waste.

The area around Sa Pa has been a tourist attraction for more than 11 years already. It's amazing how much charm has been preserved after such a length of time. But it's also seeing some rapid growth. 5yrs ago, there were only 4 guest houses in town. Now the numbers are closer to 84.

It's evident that the government acts in the interest of the locals in managing the growth. The charm of the place and of the people are largely preserved. And there is strong regulatory control, as unseen authorities register the passports of every tenant at every hotel. Almost everywhere we stayed, our passports will be kept for half a day for registration and inspection.

We also discussed about the rest of Vietnam in general. How Hanoi felt like a very safe city, the abscence of crime despite there being no police in the streets. Dinh corrected this impression. The police in the streets are all in plain clothes.

When you put a couple of Malaysians together and ask them to talk about our country and our government, you'll frequently hear grouses, government cluelessness or corruption, dissatisfaction, race inequality, etc. When our government budgets money for education, I'm immediately thinking which fat bastards are going to line their pockets with the IT purchases this year... (But apparently times are tough with Badawi-Mr-Clean's rule; heard one Dato complained about how Khairul is taking the bulk of the projects, such that only 5% of a 5billion project is trickling down to the impoverished Dato...)

But when Dinh talked about Vietnam, he talked passionately about oversights the government has made, such as the land reform laws which leases agricultural land for only 5 short years, that only encourages the growing of fast cash crops but not the more long term crops like fruit trees. He discussed these problems, but with the desire and ambition to do something to make things better. He believes in education, and is looking forward to his teacher training. He is optimistic about the future, and he has faith in his government, and in his own ability to effect changes.

I have yet to see such spirit at home.


Eventually even Dinh and Ravi retired. I toasted myself by the fire in the kitchen for a while longer to stay warm. The aroma of a bamboo & wood fire is strangely sweet. I knocked off out of boredom after I finished jotting down the notes for this day's trip.

Hanoi Day 5: The Trek to Mt Fansipan

Vietnam factoid
Mt. Fansipan is the highest peak in Vietnam, topping out at 3142 metres.

Reached the border town of Lao Cai (N22 29.584 E103 58.668) around 430am. There's plenty of touts at the station to get you up to the hotels in Sa Pa. Just go with the flow, they all charge the same, 25k Dong. There may be cheaper buses, but it wasn't possible to find someone non-partisan to advise us how to do so.

Lao Cai is a border town just a stone's throw away from China. Can see plenty of tourists here. It's also the only place that I saw Vietnamese girls who wore anything more revealing than long pants and long sleeves. It's likely due to the seediness nature of bordertowns.

We started our minivan journey at 103m above sea-level, and ended at 1495m in Sa Pa. It gets significantly colder here...


The rooms at Mountainview Hotel (N22 19.985 E103 50.571) is excellent. US$8 per room. Asked for flasks of hot water, then leaving them to cool to supplement my hydration needs. Drinking mineral water daily is biting a good chunk of my food budget.

We walked about the town square, being stalked by little girls the whole time. The Black Hmong tribe dress up their younger daughters in traditional garb, and unleash them on the tourists to sell handicrafts. They pick up English from the visitors, and are amazingly fluent. Although, I wonder if they might speak even better English, if visitors are less patronising; it seems that almost all English speakers unconsciously lose their diction & grammar when they start talking to the locals.

WeeLoong found a kindred spirit, and started a "You Loser" "No, you Loser" fight with an 8-yr old girl. It'ld have been embarassing, if it weren't so damn funny.


We took a late breakfast, and headed towards Cat Cat Waterfalls. The road starts west of Cat Cat Hotel (N22 19.967 E103 50.402), and there's a toll-booth (N22 19.946 E103 50.359). And at (N22 19.861 E103 50.035) we stepped off the tarmac and took the stone stairs leading down to the Hmong village.

Was impressed by the stairs. It was development that had given tourism dollars, back to the benefit of the local people. Encouraging tourists to come, and at the same time making the Hmong's commute easier and safer. There was almost 2km of well constructed concrete steps going down and up the valley. The inundation of foreign influences may be slowly polluting their culture, yet at the same time, it also encourages their traditional crafts that are in such high demand among the visitors.

At the end of the trip, we will learn that it was not advisable to buy souveniers from the craft shops. Because you'll be plagued by 'sales-women' throughout the entire stay, and it's more cost beneficial to spend the souvenier budget to purchase 'favours' at the same time you purchase goods. ...Um... 'favours' in the sense of making friends, getting a photo-op, help on the slippery slopes, getting email addresses etc. (Oh yeah, some of these 'mountain tribe' girls have Yahoo accounts.) Or just to get them to go away and leave you in peace to savour the tranquility.

We reached the Cat Cat Waterfalls at (N22 19.624 E103 50.047). We'd already climbed down to 1232m above sea-level. So we'll have a bit of a climb to look forward to at this point.

The path forked at the waterfall. We took the one going downwards and towards Mt Fansipan. Passed a few wonderfully secluded bathing ponds filled with pure mountain waters. Would be an excellent place to take a swim if the temperatures weren't in the low teens.

We continued this path towards Mt Fansipan for about a kilometre before we turned back. We only trekked to Mt Fansipan. I never said we made it to the 3142m summit.


The other fork at the waterfalls climbed upwards and took us in a small clockwise loop that brought us back to the main road.

The day was very misty, but we did get to see some rice terraces and such. And the photographers amused themselves with pictures of the local livestock.

We also had a round of bridge up on a small peak, just to be the first to penetrate Bridge to this part of the world. Also to give everyone a moment to catch our breaths after a particularly long climb.

There's a bridge at (N22 19.723 E103 49.769), where some of the men with motorbikes will spare you the rest of the uphill climb for US$1. The junction at (N22 19.874 E103 49.782) will take us to another village to the west. East goes back to Sa Pa.


Back in town we arranged our train tickets back to Hanoi. Then back at the hotel we negotiated a 2D/1N homestay tour to the villages in the valley. Got a much better deal this time, ie US$18/pax, with a personal guide just for the four of us. This was the shorter tour. I was more keen on the package that goes to villages a little further away, but the rest of the group balked when they heard about the 1.5hr uphill trek...


The night was too freaking cold to do much exploring. We snuck out and grabbed dinner at the first place that looked acceptable, then came straight back. Missing out on the rest of Sa Pa town.


BraveHeart was on TV.

Hanoi Day 4: The Train

Slept through the night easily. The sea is dead calm and the boat did not rock perceptibly. Almost felt like we're on a stilt house over the waters. The morning air was pretty cold this time of year. Fore-go-ed (fore-went?) showering. Although the others who did make use of the showering facilities had fun with the temperamental water heater that blasts cold and warm water in alternation.

Boat ride today was far more leisurely, since there's nothing scheduled. Just a ride from the boat park to Cat Ba Island, where we pick up some more passengers, and back to the jetty.

Relaxed on the top deck, catching sun and appreciating the scenery of islands that look like human faces, bosoms, cocks, etc. Um... I meant roosters. The other synonym is rather prone to misunderstanding.

It was only when we swapped tourguides at Cat Ba, that we got a guy who actually recognised my GPS device. He was more useful, and started pointing out islands and naming them for me. He also pointed out the hidden lagoons where Tomorrow Never Dies was filmed. The boats are not licensed to go there. The only way to take a look at the lagoon without going through red tape with the authorities was to stop at the village and borrow a boat from one of the fishermen.

The filming happened near a floating fishing village, which sees a lot of boat traffic for the seafood the villagers sell. It's really a cool lifestyle, these villages... Grab two dozen blue plastic barrels; seal them; lash them together into a raft; planks over the top; four walls and a roof; a few dozen yards of rope to anchor your real estate to an island. Stock some booze, and you've almost got a Malibu lifestyle with a huge, zero maintenance swimming pool, and without the risk of the pool-boy diddling your wife. The bay is so sheltered, it'll be like living on a pool deck.

What's amazing about Ha Long Bay is the cleanliness. Despite the production line of boats bringing boatloads of tourists hitting the islands at staggered intervals, the waters has remained pure. The industry is strictly regulated, each licensed boat is required to maintain certain standards, they can only stop at certain islands and stay on a designated course. Discipline and good sense keeps the water and beaches refuse free. I did not see a single Coke can, or discarded tyre washed up on any of the beaches.

If we had such beauty in Malaysia, you can be sure that local authorities will have raped the place and ejaculated commercial crap all over the place, all in the name of development, as some corrupt official lines his pockets. Who wants to go all the way to Langkawi to see a giant concrete eagle, pay rm20 per cab ride, rm50 per jet-ski ride, or see the museum dedicated to Mahathir?


Back at the jetty, we had our last "Big Lunch". Took the chance to talk to the other Vietnamese tourists. Most importantly, to learn how to order non-dog meat.

Vietnam Observation #4
Chinese 'cuisine' here pretty much sucks. Sweet and sour pork that's neither sweet nor sour. Lunch was at a 'Cantonese' restaurant...

And mini-van back to the city.


The mini-van will only drop us back at our hotel, and wouldn't take us to the train station. So we have to trek through town lugging everything on our backs. Didn't give me much trouble, cos I travelled light.

Dumped out baggage at the train station and took a walk around that part of the city. There's a smaller lake marked out on the map, so we thought we could try to find it.

This adventure failed it's primary objective, but it was more interesting than I had expected.

We took a general bearing and just went down random roads and alleys that lead in the general direction. My GPS isn't much help, cos it only marks my position and my trail, but there is no Hanoi city map that I could download into it. There isn't a community of GPS nuts here after all...

If the Old Quarter is like Petaling Street, then the rail station area is like Chow Kit.

Narrow streets. Old buildings. Sweat shops. A LOT of hair-dressers...

Even saw a 'hotel' that almost looked like the 'Pig Cage' dwelling in Kung Fu Hustle.

There were no other tourists on these streets with us. In fact it occured to me that, to the locals, we probably looked like a bunch of foreigners trying to find some Vietnamese tail, and rather unsuccessfully at that. It was at this point that I looked at the hairdressers with renewed suspicion.

There can't be THAT big a market for hairdressers... In such a poor part of town, no less. Granted that almost every Vietnamese girl keeps impeccable silky straight hair, but even then! I later had these suspicions confirmed by our Sa Pa guide. He confirmed that some of these establishments are more than likely to perform special services, which the locals have dubbed, "Happy Ending".

Well, now you know...


A note about trains in communist countries... They leave on time. Something that takes some getting used to, for us Malaysians. But no disaster this time.

We got a sleeper coach. The room was cosy and comfortable, and all four of us fit in one room just nicely.

And this night, we inducted WeeLoong to the game of Bridge. And the laughs never stopped. It's amazing that a commercial airline pilot can be so inattentive. Almost everything went past him.

Hanoi Day 3: The Sea

Today, we went to Ha Long Bay.

We took the US$45 option, which we bargained down to US$44, and then got a service tax slapped on it, making it US$48.40. This was the one and only time we ever got slapped with a 10% tax, anywhere!

So, we're looking forward to the "Big Boat", and the "Big Lunch", and the fluent English speaking guide. The trip started real well with a cramped little bus, packed to capacity, and a guide who's not all that fluent in English.

It was an uncomfortable 3hr ride to Bai Chay, which is just one bridge away before Hong Gai. That's where the tourist jetty is, where an armada of hotel-boats berth. We found our boat quickly, and waited impatiently to depart. The view here was already amazing, and we're looking forward to getting closer to the islands dotting the bay.

The waters are greenish blue, and dead calm. There's hardly any wind, but the movement of the boat gave a good 30kph breeze. The warm sun. The cool air. The smell of the sea. The sight of the limestone islands. The relaxation, wonderful. Except that the cold air makes my skin break out in a rash if I sit top-side too long.

The islands are one of a kind... They're like those phallic mountains you often see in chinese landscape art, ie tall, sheer-faces, narrow rounded peaks. Just imagine a whole bunch of these mountains together, and then you flood the whole place till only the tip shows.

Sorry I can't be more poetic describing these wonderful sights... There's no poetry in my cold silicon soul.

We made a stop at the island with the Cave of Surprises, which composed of several huge limestone caverns. It must have looked great when it was virgin. They've remodeled the cavern to make it tourist friendly. A wide path carved out. Strategically placed yellow spotlights. The ceiling machined smooth so no stalagtites are left to fall and kill. And the rubble was stacked up in 'artistic piles', hoping that tourist won't notice how much of it was artificial.

I walked on ahead and listened in while another tour guide did his spiel on his group. When our tourguide caught up, it was agony hearing our guide trying to do the exact same speech, rote learned from their Tourism 101 class, in his halting English.


Lunchtime, at least the Big Lunch did not disappoint. Fairly neutral and palatable foods in bountiful quantities. The four of us got a table all to ourselves. The others were still recovering their appetite from the dog meat, so I got the lion's share of the food.

After lunch, we began to teach WeeLoong to play Hearts. Yes, that game that comes with Windows XP.


Then we made a stop at Ti Top island. Nothing there but a viewing gazebo up on a 84m summit. It was quite a climb. But even a gimp legged Jap tourist made it. Think he had arthrodesis on one knee. The view was good.


Back down on the beach, there's kayaking for those who felt up to it. That ended in a minor disaster. Got my bermudas wet, and they're impossible to dry in these temperatures and humidity. Tried to air dry it anywhere I could, but it was hopeless. Luckily, the hotel at Sa Pa could do laundry at 15k Dong per kg, but that's 3 nights later.


In the evening, the boat chugged slowly to the 'boat park'. As it happens, there's a big "P" sign to designate the parking area.

The night was moonless, and the darkness quite complete. Such that you can see a green glow in the waters from the bioluminescent plankton. It's pretty cool to watch. When you spit into the water, you can see green ripples in the waters. Amusing as it was, I couldn't indulge too much. Was running low on fluids, and drinking water is expensive, and I down 2-3 litres of water on any given day.

Speaking of which...

Hanoi Travel Tip
1.5l of mineral water is 10k Dong for tourists almost everywhere. But they'll sell for 7k, which was the cheapest I ever saw in Hanoi, which also doesn't happen very often.

Hanoi Day 2: The City

The city wakes very early.

While the others dozed, I was on the balcony watching the traffic. Very few cars. A lot of motorbikes. A lot of bicycles. And no fat people!

Vietnam Observation #1:
I didn't see a single fat Vietnamese in Hanoi in the first few days there. All the men are wiry and fit. All the women are slim and fair.

Eventually everybody got up. Had breakfast. And talked with the hotelier about arranging a trip to Ha Long Bay. He offered 3 different 2D1N packages, for USD29, 35 & 45 per pax.

The USD45 package has "Big Lunch! Big Dinner! Big Breakfast!"

We told them we'ld think on it...

Our first destination was the lake (Ho Hoan Kiem, Lake of the Restored Sword). It's a well developed spot, with gardens all around it, a temple in the middle of the lake, and a toll-booth on the bridge leading to the temple.

This was when I felt that I was leading an outing of the photography club. Two Olympuses and a Canon were whipped out and started clicking away.

But clicking alongside them, I saw an unexpectedly high camera per pax ratio amongst the locals too... Seems that every second Hanoi-ite was sporting an old Nikon or Pentax SLR, those old metal affairs... For a while I was thinking that they were a press crew there waiting for some news-worthy event. Later I figured out that they're professional photographers, taking pics for those visitors who are without cameras, and then they'll run off to the nearest photo shop, develop that square of film, then re-use the remaining roll of film with the next customer. Quite a lot of effort just to make a buck.


Right after our first destination, we immediately met our first crisis. Wee's camera ran out of juice. But our photography club has an excellent support system and we helped him weather out the crisis.


Next on our journey was the St. Joseph Cathedral.

Then Pho for second breakfast.

Went and found the train station, and bought soft sleeper tickets to go to Lao Cai for the day that we get back from Ha Long Bay.

Got double charged for using the toilet at the train station. Locals pay D500, but I didn't get change for D1000.

The Temple of Literature.

Ho Chih Minh Museum. Closed.

Ho Chih Minh Musoleum. Closed for the day.

Lunch.

Military Museum. Charges extra for bringing in cameras.

Afternoon tea at cafe under the flag tower.

Walked about Old Quarter. Saw the Opera House and the Hanoi Hilton at night. Bought hats. Ate Vietnamese prepared western food for dinner.


Noteworthy events for the day...

We had an interesting lunch. Somewhere near the HCM Museum, we found a secreted restaurant (no sign boards) doing bustling business, mostly local patrons. We thought it would bea good place to sample genuine local cuisine, and quickly found ourselves a table.

Wee Loong proceeded to order us four glasses of fresh beer... by accident... before we were even seated. But it was a serendipitous accident, as we will later find. It was more beer than I had ever consumed in my lifetime prior to this day. Tasted better than the tapped stuff I had to sip socially before.

The menu was in Vietnamese. The waitresses didn't speak a word of English. But the menu had caricatures of animals on each page, so we thought we could handle it alright. We ordered a vegetable dish by pointing at a neighbouring table. So that's one down.

I managed to challenge everyone to try dog meat. And with some few phrases from a guide book, I managed to decode the alphabets for "grilled". I thought it was safest to order grilled dog, since all satay taste the same irregardless of the meat used.

Then we ordered a random (close eyes and point) pork, and a random chicken. The chicken was significantly pricier than the other meats, so we kinda looked forward to something special.

First came the boiled cold cuts of dog. Oops! The waitress took the wrong order. It looked like boiled pork, but with leaner, browner meat, and a thin darkish brown skin. Came with sliced ginger, a few segments of 'sausages', and some lime. This was more adventure than we bargained for.

First, the denial, we wanted to believe that this was the pork dish we ordered at random. But a taste removed all doubts. I guess I would describe the taste as... tastes like dog. It wasn't disgusting or anything. It just tasted like a different kind of meat. The texture was rather chewey... Like beef tongue. A little alien. A little funny.

Ravi tried a few slices. Wee spat out his first piece after chewing on it for a few minutes. Not entirely sure if Ben ate any, only remembered him poking it with his chopsticks. Had maybe about 8 pieces. Didn't mind the taste, but didn't like it too much either. I was the only one who tried the suspicious sausage segment. And, disappointing to some, it was not canine penis. Just some nutty or chestnutty stuffing in an intestine, I think...

This is where the serendipitous beer came in very helpful.

The other dishes came... But the dog-meat has already turned a few appetites. We were served boiled pork. And boiled chicken. It seemed rather suspicious that we somehow randomly picked 3 dishes of boiled meat. Especially the chicken dish, which had a very wordy name on the menu, but it only came out boiled??

Ah well... We're ignorant tourists. We suffered our lot silently.


The military museum was also a good visit. It was just a bunch of old photos, old war paraphrenalia (ie old flags, news clippings, chairs that some general sat on, different uniforms their armies wore, a clay bowl that some hero drank his own piss out of, etc), a bunch of trophies they collected from their enemies (ie a giant Howitzer, a few planes, the wreckage of a bomber brought down by their AAA [anti-aircraft artillery], a tank, a few vehicles etc), and diaromas of their victory in the battle of Dien Bien Phu, and the taking of Saigon.

Almost missed the Dien Bien Phu diaroma, as it was almost hidden off in a different part of the building, accessible through a door that looked like a service door. Maybe it's so that the exhibit can be diplomatically closed away when French diplomats visit, so they won't get offended by the gloating displays. But you would think that a people who devised the ingenious Maginot Line would be 'impenetrable' to ridicule already, where their military history is concerned.

Didn't really appreciate the military manuevers that brought them their victories. But through the theme of all the exhibits, one can come to appreciate that these are a people that has gone through a lot of shit, and had prevailed against everyone of them. Their nationalistic pride is well earned. They have the right to be a proud people. They have weathered numerous storms, and are fully capable of surviving many more.


Next to the military museum was a flag tower. No big deal really. You climb to the summit (29m above sea level), and get a little view around the city. But strangely, at the top of the tower, there are two stairways going down. When we got back down to the base of the tower, I can't find the doorway to the alternate stairs to the top.

I couldn't leave with this mystery haunting me. So I climbed all the way back up, and down the mystery stair. This one came to a dead-end halfway down the tower. And at the dead-end, which was just a narrow enclosed space with light coming in through a port-hole, there's a mysterious little shrine, with an urn for joss-sticks. No idea what it was for. Now that explained why a young Vietnamese couple was down here when my photography club was clicking pictures at the summit.


One of the better sights seen today was at the rail tracks. At a barrier, we decided to walk along the tracks after a train had just passed. The track runs behind the backs of a lot of houses. And most residences keep their back-door wide open. From this vantage, we got to take a peek at how the locals live, how they furnish their houses, what TV they own etc. It was cool just to wander off the beaten path for a short while.


Vietnam Observation #2 & #3
Where are the cats? Did not see a single stray cat the whole day. Except for a few kittens in cages at a market. And we've not seen cats on menus either. Curious...

Another thing... I did not hear a single dog bark. All of them are subdued, with sad soulless eyes. Like they're just waiting for the shoe to drop.

Hanoi Day 1: The Flight

Finally finished the backlog of work from when I was away in Hanoi. Had to get up before 7 this morning (7/4/06) and drive through rush hour traffic to a bungalow hidden behind KLCC to fix a few things this morning. Big-shot Dato of I Berhad mah...

So finally, finding some time to blog at work again :)


Ok, back in Continuity Mode.

..............

Woke up and spent the whole morning just reading the papers while Ben puttered around with last minute laundry and packed his bags.

Thought of dropping by WeeLoong's place for lunch and maybe take his Schwinn for a spin. But the fellow just got back from a holiday in Rome, and we figured it best to give him time to sleep and pack instead.

We all met up at Changi late afternoon.

Can't recognise the airport anymore. The last time I was here was probably July 1996, when I took off to KL for my spirit-ectomy in Universiti Malaya.

Had a bit of afternoon tea first, since we'll be reaching Hanoi way past dinner time. The MacDonald's here has more interesting foods than Malaysia, but a lousier Coke-refill policy, ie none to speak of.

Flight took off about 5.30pm, and we touched down about 8pm local time.

The more you know...

Hanoi is in the +7GMT timezone, although its longitude is slightly further east than Singapore, which is at +8GMT. This is because West Malaysia and Singapore are following East Malaysia's timezone. Thus we're an hour ahead of everyone else on our same longitude.
Therefore, do the sums and you'll see that our flight took about 3.5hrs.

We were seated pretty far towards the back of the plane. The four of us couldn't get seats together. So I left WeeLoong alone sleeping, while I spent the 3hr flight standing near the loo like a toilet attendent, occassionally opening doors for passengers who looked puzzled by the door latch.

Used the time to find out what Ravi and Ben had planned out for us. And get some vague idea what Hanoi is going to be like.

I was determined to go into this holiday completely blind. With no expectations nor preconceptions to colour my experience. The only research I did was the safety of their tap water, and the forecasted temperatures for this time of the year.

At this point, the bulk of my knowledge about Vietnam was:

• The French, and also Forrest Gump, were there at some point or another
• They're Commies
• Tour of Duty used to show these goblins in black pyjamas killing American soldiers
• Residences in KL where Vietnamese workers live, often see a high rate of pet mortality ('stewing' being the chief cause of death)
• Top quality brides

So, yeah... there's plenty of gaps in my knowledge to fill in...


We took a cab from Noibai Airport into Hanoi. The cabbie will ask for US$15. Pay him US$10 only. Get an airport personnel to back you up on this. But you can't blame the cabbie for trying to get lucky with the occassional gullible tourist.


Google for cheap hotels in Hanoi and you'll often get Salute Hotel. But that wasn't where the cabbie took us to. We ended up at Backpacker's Hotel, which I've labelled on my GPS as Fake Salute. But the room and price was agreeable, and we didn't have any better ideas how to find the real Salute.

Dumped the bags and went out looking for dinner.


There are HEAPS of local food stalls all along the pedestrian walkways! I was dazzled by the bounty of genuine local cuisine! Was just hoping to sit down anywhere and pick out a random dish and be surprised. But I followed the more seasoned travellers and see where they'ld lead me.

We took a few turns around the Old Quarter part of the city, and ended up at ... City View Cafe. My compatriots ordered Nasi Goreng and Pork Fillet.....

I was speechless...

I comforted myself with a bowl of hygienically prepared Pho. Somehow, the Vietnamese noodles I had in Australia tasted better than the authentic article.


But the cafe did have a very good view over the lake. Had a time looking at the bright city lights reflected in the waters, accompanied by the pleasing ambience of motorbike horns.

It was also a good chance to look at the streets and learn how the locals cross the roads. The idea is to wade right into the traffic and move at a leisurely pace. As long as you don't stop unexpectedly in the middle of the road, the onus is on the motorbikes to swerve out of your way.

Cool...


We walked about the Old Quarter a bit more before getting back to the hotel.

The room isn't too bad. But only 2 beds, a queen & a single. We put them together, and could squeeze 4 guys on it if we sleep in an "E" formation.

WeeLoong, unfortunately was the middle horizontal bar. Ravi being the vertical bar. So, WeeLoong had the choice of either Ravi's ass or his dick facing his head as he sleeps.


Ben snores lightly. WeeLoong gnashes his teeth. I sleep through it all.

Hanoi Day 0: Getting to Singapore

The highway lights fly across the bus window in dizzying streaks of amber. The effect is pleasantly hypnotic, but it gets nauseating after a while. The journey is so smooth that the passing flashes of light is the only indication of motion.

It was worth the few extra dollars for the bus service with the newer fleet, with the better suspensions, and hopefully with the more well maintained brakes. Not to mention fresher seat cushions, greater elbow room, and more air to barrier my nose from the odours of my fellow passengers.

Asides from the risk of olfactory assault, a chaueffered Mercedes is really the best way to travel.

Although the engine may sound muted, giving the illusion of a leisurely pace, the bus is actually hurtling down the highway at breakneck speed. But such thoughts are best expunged from one's head once the course is already committed.

I'm sure bus drivers have to meet stringent criteria of safety and discipline to keep their well paying jobs. And like every sane creature created under God, they will similarly be motivated by instincts of self-preservation. My irrational fear for my safety must be entirely unfounded.

And I must be really tired if my mental boundaries of fantasy and reality are beginning to blur such.

----

Accidentally dug up this literary abortion from several years ago. I suppose it'll do to describe my bus trip down to Singapore.


Anyways, had a particular bad day of work. Several things just popped up all at the last minute that I have to settle before I can leave. But still manage to pop out 2hrs early to go home to pack.

Cab to the LRT station. Train to the city. Met up with a travelling companion going the same direction. Bought tix. Ate dinner. Choked on carbon monoxide fumes on platform while waiting for late bus. Get caught in rush hour traffic. Reach JB. Bus 170 to immigration. Over the causeway.

And reached Kranji MRT just 5 minutes after 11:28pm, too late to catch the last connecting train going east out of Jurong East St.

So, stuck at JE, but as luck would have it, I managed to catch a bus that still goes past Commonwealth Ave West, and that got me to Ben's place sometime after midnight.

Showered. Then used Ben's internet to finish up my course assignment and handed it up.

Yes, I'm pretty much a last minute kind of guy. My muse is strongest at the eleventh hour.

The Iran Oil Bourse

Why is it that I can't find a single piece of news whether the Iran bourse has started or not?

It's an action that will have wide ranging consequences, yet no one is reporting whether it has or has not happened.

Maybe I need to update my Search-Fu skillz...