Who's that guy? The one on the cycle?

Mekong river life

Saigon - a hot, exotic and pulsating city. Experience has shown when in a cultural capital famed for its cuisine, markets and museums, there is only one option – waterpark. So we paid our £3 admission and enjoyed the best waterslides we’ve had the pleasure of embarrassing ourselves on – and we’ve done a lot of waterparks.

Remembering why we went travelling, we came to our senses and headed off to the Mekong delta, losing ourselves for two days in little water channels, floating markets and some great home cooking in our bungalow on stilts over the river. This leg was also notable for an update on the most precarious load seen on a moped… us. Every expense had been spared on our tour itinerary, so to get to our bungalow we jumped on the back of two whiney mopeds with full 20kg rucksacks and careered across a motorway and then down a rutted track, clinging to the driver for dear life.

Next up was Pho Quoc – a largely undeveloped island paradise claimed by both Cambodia and Vietnam. For now it remains in the hands of Vietnam, so they can take the blame for the weather; it hammered down for three days. We eventually got out and about on a motorbike, and spent two fantastic days exploring the island and skidding about on tiny tracks in the forest in knee deep mud – at least it went up to C’s knees, it was important for J to stay dry on the bike. There were some marvellous little restaurants on the beach, perfect for margaritas and a moonlit stroll along the sand – very Mills and Boon.

Off the beaten track in Pho Quoc

The Ryder caravan stops for no-one, so it was time to say goodnight Vietnam and good morning Cambodia. We caught the ‘fast boat’ along the mighty Mekong river to Phnom Penh, a fabulous way to travel, passing little villages and locals bathing and washing their cattle in the river, most of them keen to wave and shout hello. At the boat dock the frenzied tuk-tuk scrum to get the Ryder contract was fierce, perhaps a reflection of the economic realities in Cambodia. We went with our failsafe method and chose the one with the nicest smile; a good move as it turned out, we hired him for two days and he was a great city guide. C had a bit of a crush on him by the end, and J is not above admitting a little bit of man-love for the thoroughly charming October.

October - the tuk-tuk driver with the irrestible smile

We stayed in a great little guest house in Phnom Penh (You Kinh house) which is operated as a charitable organisation where profits go towards the running of the attached school for disadvantaged Cambodian children.

Cambodia is slowly recovering from the years of Khmer Rouge rule, but a visit to killing fields and genocide museum provided a sobering and chilling reminder of what this country has been through in our lifetimes.

Our last stop in Cambodia was Siem Reap, to gaze in awe upon the mighty Angkor temples. The temples are stunning, not least for the sheer number of them – imagine Giza with 50 intricately carved pyramids and you have an idea of the scale of these temples. Everyone has heard of Angkor Wat, but there are many other equally impressive temples dotted about the area, including our personal favourite, Ta Prohm, which lay undiscovered for hundreds of years and has been partly reclaimed by the surrounding jungle.

We both, unexpectedly, fell in love with Cambodia, largely due to the people we met, which is just as well as we ended up spending an extra night due to a flight cancellation. Flight cancellations usually result in frustration and anger on the part of the passenger, but we found it difficult to get worked up while reclining in five star luxury, all courtesy of Vietnam Airlines. However, while six-course lunches and dinners are all well and good, too much of the high life dulls the edges so it is back to the austerity budget for now.

Temples at Angkor

Twenty four hours later than planned, we arrived last night in Luang Prabang, a beautiful atmospheric town in northern Laos surrounded by mountainous jungle on all sides.

Highlight: Getting off the beaten track (albeit largely by accident, our map was beyond hopeless and the island was completely devoid of road signs) in Pho Quoc. We were told by a helpful French resident that we were the first tourists seen on that part of island, a fact confirmed by the locals all curious to come out of their homes to shout hello and give us a wave.

Lowlight: three days of rain in our island paradise tested our patience, particularly when the stock of books in the hotel consisted solely of travel guides and Scandinavian-language detective stories.

Monkey count: two troops of Macaques outside the temples in Siem Reap, the first since Brazil. In fact we were so excited to get the monkey count up and running again that we missed the magical moment of the sun rising over Angkor Wat, despite getting up at 4.15am to see it.

In other news: our chopstick skills have improved exponentially, but our haggling skills have flat-lined. It is hard to motivate yourself to haggle when everything is such a bargain and you end up negotiating whether to pay 80p or £1 for something that at home would set you back a day’s wages.

I'm lovin it....

Vietnam countryside on the way to Hoi An

Pausing briefly in Singapore for an eye-wateringly expensive Gin Sling in Raffles Hotel (nice, but never again), we flew north to Hanoi, our gateway to Vietnam. Sporting a budget-busting new camera, we were now ready to capture the sights, if not the smells, of Asia in perfect clarity. See if you notice the difference on the blog.

Hanoi swarms with life, a teeming mass of mopeds and cacophonous noise; crossing the road relies on blind faith that the bikes will swerve round you and, amazingly, they do. From our excellent hotel in the middle of the old quarter, we visited Ho Chi Minh’s mausoleum; a classic communist-era experience, there is a dress code required to file past a dead body, and God help you if you don’t keep your hands respectfully by your sides at all times.

People in Vietnam seem to be too proud to ask for hand-outs, so have come up with a million different ways of making a few Dong. Despite looking typically suave in his trademark ‘mandals’, J had his shoes forcibly wrestled off his feet by a guy wanting to fix and polish them for a small sum. Once the job was complete, a complex series of negotiations began. J started haggling at 20p and the man started at £20, finally settling on about £3, which satisfyingly left both parties with a feeling of rancour and mistrust.

Thankfully the Ryder finances have now been taken off life support after the excesses of Australia and New Zealand. It is still possible to get a perfectly decent glass of beer here for under 10p, a haircut for 85p (judge the quality by J’s photos) and a full meal for two for £3. For everything else there is the redundancy fund…. 

Leaving Hanoi, we took a two day cruise in Halong Bay, in the north east corner of Vietnam. Staying on an Indonesian junk, we pootled around the bay of stunning limestone rock formations, visiting huge caves and paddling round the floating villages on kayaks. The following morning we had a quick cooking class on the boat and now know how to make the perfect spring roll, which doesn’t involve a phone call and a credit card.

Halong Bay

An overnight train journey took us to Hue, the old imperial capital. Hard as it is to believe, in our sleeper carriage of four people, we were the young fit ones and were duly allocated the top bunks. Looking at our friendly, if generously proportioned Dutch companions, this was a relief – it would have been a nervous night sleeping in a bunk underneath them. We spent two days wandering round the temples and pagodas of the citadel and took a boat trip to the royal tombs. We also discovered the joy of motorbike taxis – it seems to be a national sport in Vietnam to cram as many people as possible on to a bike, but it’s also a cheap way to get round town, if a little hair-raising.

Royal tombs at Hue

Next up was Hoi An, a very pretty town, and a bit more laid-back, relatively speaking. There’s a great beach five kilometres away through the paddy fields, a good excuse to act like a local and rent a moped for some crazy riding around town. Hoi An is also renowned for its tailors; taking advantage of this, J had a suit made for the job he doesn’t have and C – in what must have been a rush of blood to the head – had some trousers made that conjure up images not of stylish summer sophisticates, but Ronald McDonald.

Japenese bridge in Hoi An

We are now in Saigon, or Ho Chi Minh City to give it its official name. Crossing the road here is even more of a challenge than Hanoi – more cars, even more mopeds, and more westernized than its northern counterpart. The reminders of the war are more obvious here in the number of museums and captured US tanks and you realise, despite the problems and poverty that still exist, how far this country has come in the last three decades.

Highlight: sitting in a tucked away little restaurant in Hoi An, eating the best spring rolls known to man and drinking the local brew, watching the locals speed by on bikes and scooters, and knowing that the whole evening would cost less than a pint in the Ancient Mariner.

Lowlight: not sure if its the language barrier, or due to her towering size compared to the tiny vietnamese women, but the local street hawkers, keen to make a sale, keep trying to attract C's attention by saying 'here sir, you buy something...' 

Most perilous load on one scooter: a toss-up between 15 feet of corrugated plastic rolled up in a giant tube and three live pigs in wicker baskets.



Enjoying the ride



Where women glow and men plunder

New Chums beach

This blogs finds us holed up in the world’s smallest hotel room in Singapore (we are still waiting for Guinness to ratify the record but take our word for it, an estate agent would be embarrassed to call it ‘bijou’) having completed the ‘down-under’ leg of our tour with a week in Sydney.

Before heading to Sydney we spent a few days back on the North Island of New Zealand, the highlight of which was definitely experiencing the famous Kiwi hospitality courtesy of the Cane family and witnessing first-hand the Kiwi enthusiasm for all things rugby. We particularly enjoyed watching the young Cane boys getting stuck in for the Reporoa minis. We were also treated to some top class club rugby in the form of the Crusaders (from Canterbury, playing their home game in Napier as their stadium was damaged in the February quake) versus the Chiefs. While the Crusaders was stacked full of All-Blacks, all eyes were on Sam Cane (spot the connection) making his debut for the Chiefs. We bet you a tenner that come the next autumn internationals he will be among the All-Blacks giving England a good hiding at Twickenham.  

The lovely Cane family

We then spent a few days drinking in the fabulous scenery of the Coromandel, including the beautiful New Chums beach and the natural phenomenon of Hot Water Beach. At low tide hot water seeps through the sand and if you take a spade you can dig a hole and sit in your own private spa. Naturally we turned up without a spade, so we loitered about waiting for someone to leave their pool, before diving in like squatters. The temperature control in our foxhole was pure Ryder, with one cheek sat in water hot enough to boil an egg, while the other was left behind in the arctic. 

It was sad to say goodbye to New Zealand…..

One local resident sad to see us depart

…. but great to say g’day to Sydney, a city with which we are both familiar. A week of standard-issue sight-seeing ensued, including the cliff-top walk from Bondi to Coogee which encompassed great beaches, a pod of dolphins and, a bit weirdly, Emma Thompson out with her family. We had a fantastic apartment looking over Darling Harbour and enjoyed plenty of well-earned chill time in the Jacuzzi and sauna.

An opera house, apparently

We arrived in Singapore a couple of days ago (wearing jeans, hiking shoes and polar fleeces, and instantly melted in the heat the minute the plane hit the tarmac). We have another day of exploring before we head to Vietnam. Our first impressions of Singapore are of a city where the consumer is most definitely king with endlessly huge shopping malls and the whole world to buy but there are also temples, mosques and fascinating areas where the traditional Chinese, Malay and Indian way of life survives. We are slowly immersing ourselves into all things Asian and trying desperately not to break any of the obscure rules that Singapore seems to thrive on (think no diving in the shallow end, or heavy petting, then factor it up to a national scale).

Highlight: The food in Singapore is amazing, if slightly bewildering, with every type of Asian food you can imagine on offer. We have filled our boots on Malaysian, Indian and Japanese, so it is time for a Chinese tonight. (C was suggesting Pizza Hut but that idea has been vetoed by the food culture police / resident gourmand).

Lowlight: While not strictly related to our world tour, the pitiful capitulation of both of our beloved football teams has been a running sore, although (according to J) C would do well to learn the difference between finishing fourth and being cast adrift to the oblivion of the Championship.

It is time to resurrect the monkey count (possibly to be joined by an elephant count, as they are easier to count) that was temporarily suspended upon leaving Brazil. Watch this this space....