Homestays, Elephant Ears and The Mekong

Craig Writes: A 7.30am start for our two hour drive to LonGan, the first province in the Mekong Delta. Here we catch our private boat for a four hour trip up the Mekong River. Our destination is Vinh Long, third province and the destination for our home-stay. There were to be various stops along the way. This trip reinforced my understanding of how ingenious these people are. They use every opportunity Mother Nature gives them to feed, house and protect themselves. There isn't a pond, a stream or a lake that doesn't have fish in it. Outside of the Mekong Delta, catfish is the preferred fish of choice. In the Mekong Delta, it's Elephant Ear fish for breakfast, lunch and dinner. If they don't have a pond to farm a fish they'll dig one in from the nearest source of water. If there's a bit of land they'll plant something on it, rice, bananas, guava, something.

The Mekong River is 4350 kms long. It starts in the Qinghai province in South East China and flows through Laos, Cambodia and Vietnam draining into the South China Sea just south of Ho Chi Minh city. It varies in width from 1 to 5 kms and serves the complete needs of the Mekong Delta. A 14,000 sq mile district broken into 13 provinces with a population of 18 million people. They live, bathe, farm, transport their goods and play in it, on it and along the entire length of it. A popular crop along the shore line are water hyacinth. There everywhere. The leaves they use to feed their pigs and the roots are dried to weave into handbags.

Life by the Mekong

Life in the Mekong

Water Hyacinth; hand bags just waiting to be made

Our first stop was an Asian candy store unlike anything you would see at home. First we watched them make rice popcorn. You start with buckets of black sand pulled from the river and super heated in an enormous wok. When its ready they add ladles of rice with the husk freshly removed. Bingo, within seconds it starts popping like a fiend, and like rabbits out of a magicians hat, suddenly appear hundreds of bouncy white rice puffs. It is then sifted to remove the black sand and any remaining husks. They reuse the black sand. Once it's cooled they add honey, sesame seeds and nuts. Brilliant. They use the husk from the rice to fuel the fire. Same when they make the candied coconut. The coconut husk and shell are used to fuel the fire that heats the pans. 

Super heated black sand

From boring  rice to poprice

The finished product with some sweet, sweet tea

They had some large glass jars of snake wine and rice wine brewing. I gave the snake wine a miss and opted for a small thimble of the rice wine. 40 percent proof. Kapow! And what candy store isn't complete without a 10 foot python. Of course you can't walk pass the opportunity when the friendly candy man offers to drape it over your shoulders. Callum went first, tentative, but he did it. Good on ya buddy. When they drape the monster over your shoulders the first thing you realise is how heavy it is. As soon as it lands on you you can feel the first gentle squeeze as it starts to slither and wind itself around your body. You certainly get the impression its feeling you out, positioning itself in case you make to sudden a move. It gave my leg a pretty friendly squeeze. Just enough to give you a bit of an idea of what it could do if it wanted to. 

40 proof snake wine, it's got real bite. (sorry)

This looks one small squeeze away from a curtain call

Careful fella, that's my ticklish spot

Charlie prefers his snake a little off the shoulder

Further up the river it was into a tropical fruit farm for a tasting of Jack fruit, plums (best eaten with chilli salt) tiny bananas the size of your thumb and as sweet as honey, guava, watermelon and papaya . The locals put on a little show here. Three musos and three singers. It wasn't Vegas but they put everything into it. Acting out their roles of the farmer lamenting the late arrival of his tardy wife with his lunch or the two young lovers hunting for crabs and fish. They went for it like it was Simon Cowell sitting in front of them, not just four anonymous tourists from down under. I thought they were brilliant.

Back on the boat and I sat up on the bow for a while. So nice to have a fresh strong breeze in my face and not the steady fug of recycled bike fumes that comes through the minibus aircon. As we turn into a narrow tributary we jump over the corrugated wake of another boat turning in front of us to rejoin the Mighty Mekong. It was packed tight with day tourists. As we were over-nighting we had our boat to ourselves. Once we've turned off the main river we slow to a crawl. The water is only about 50cm deep and littered with debris from the locals who live along it's banks. Our driver negotiates carefully to avoid getting anything wrapped around the propellor, unsuccessfully as it turns out. He has to jump into the muddy and ugly water to pull out metres of colourful plastic from around the propeller. In the meantime we literally get passed by an old man in a Zimmer boat . This ancient fossil of a fella sits bent at the front of his decrepit old vessel. It looks like it may have been a life boat off Noahs Ark. He slowly glides by us with slow, casual strokes of a paddle. Pushing himself off the bottom of the river. He doesn't bother to look at us.

Propeller Food

"Amateurs"

"Eat my wake people"

With the propellor free we're off but its slow going and the fresh breeze has long gone. The way here is very narrow with relatively steep sides. It must be a significant short cut to go through here. We finally break through the other side onto a more major tributary and the air suddenly clears. Here for lunch and our first taste of Elephant Ear Fish, crispy skinned and delicious. The meat comes off the bones cleanly and you roll in in rice paper with cucumber, mint and lettuce then dip it in a sweet chilli sauce. Mighty fine. The flesh is sweet, flaky and delicious. A most unusual fruit for desert. Its called Longan, or Dragon Eyes. All I can say is check out the photo. Damn freaky.

Apologises for this, it's off.

Elephant Ear fish, very tasty

The homestay was more a B and B or a guest house. We were expecting to schmoose with the locals, have long chats over dinner and a few carafes of rice wine. Find some kind of cross cultural common ground to bond over and leave with fond memories of getting drunk and falling out of a coconut tree. But alas no. We got to make some spring rolls in their kitchen but that was it. Then it was out on our lonesome in the dining pagoda under a ceiling fan sipping on a warm Tiger beer and eating more Elephant Ear fish. The CVW'S still had fun though.

The homestay

Oh, how we laughed

Up early the next morning for a quick trip back down the Mekong to a local brick factory built on the banks of the river. Another step back in time. This must be where Fred and Wilma bought there bricks from. They pull the mud from the river then mould it into whatever kind of brick they want. Its dried for a few days in the sun then placed into these enormous kilns and baked for 10 to 15 days. The kilns are fuelled by nothing more than rice husks. A literal mountain of the stuff. See the photo. 

Bedrock Brick Kilns

He's there to stop the chooks eating the furnace fuel

Thanks for the tour  people

From here it was a trek back to the Family Inn. Early night and off to the the airport the next morning. It was a sad farewell to Vietnam but definitely not goodbye. We'll be back. 

Some Closing Observations;

• They drive like maniacs
• They have no fear
• Their coffee tastes like strong cocoa
• No one has a beard - they call it "special hair"
• There are no fat Vietnamese 
• Their resilient, inventive and very resourceful
• If you stand still for too long in one spot they'll grow something on you
• There are more motor bikes than flys
• Its better to be a pet in the south than the north
• Saigon is beautiful , Hanoi is not
• You can run your bike on rice wine if you have to
• Stuff is cheap
• Food is fantastic
• Vietnamese girls can be stunners
• There is something amazing, bizarre and surprising around every corner
• There is no malice here
• There are no slackers here
• They smile all the time

Hoi An and the Veggie Patch

Craig writes: Today was meant to be a bike ride from our hotel to a village about 3kms away. This was arranged before we actually arrived here and witnessed the sheer lunacy of what goes on on the roads. If it was just me, by myself, in a sumo suit, I would probably have had a go. But with two young boys and a wife who's major riding experience has been at Rotto, and the fact Christina is the only person on the trip who knows what the hell we're doing and where we're suppose to be going, we made some slight adjustments. We would catch the bus to the village and ride around the much quieter pathways of the veggie garden.

After a 5 minute mini bus ride we arrived at Tra Que, a large communal organic veggie garden, several hectares in size. The government gives every family an allotment based on 200sq metres per family member. I wonder if the Stirling Council would be interested in that idea? We're all given a bike and proceed to have a very leisurely and pleasant cycle on the smooth quiet pathways. Except Charlie, who may have been permanently scarred by the countless near misses we've witnessed and refuses to get anywhere near anything with two wheels. To his credit when we return after our first lap, intact and happy, he does concede to a dinky ride on the back of my bike for a slow second lap, but he's huggin' me like Quasimodo's lump.

Here we are for a tour and lunch and Charlie doesn't eat greens

Quasimodo and his lump

We're here for the job interview

We had lunch overlooking the garden. Must say I'm a much bigger fan of eating organic veggies than seeing how they're grown. Christina enjoyed it though and Charlie found it fascinating to pick a pot pourri of different herbs and mash them all together to create his very own unique herbal fragrance. He thought it smelt great and I should rub it on myself as a cologne. I said if it went to market we could call it "POO", "For Men Who Like Their Own Company".

Earlier we visited a pottery factory run out of the back of someones home. The government pays these folks to maintain the traditional ways of pottery making. We watched as this old woman stood on one foot clinging to a post while using the other foot to spin a large smooth wooden pottery wheel. Another woman sat opposite on crunched haunches, moulding and caressing the clay, freshly pulled from the nearby river. Where once sat a spinning mound of wet mud suddenly appeared from between two ancient cracked hands the most beautiful pots and bowls. We all took turns squatting down next to her to have a go. Her gentle expert hands on ours assured we all made little master pieces.

Vietnamese pea game,"It's under that one"

The very latest in antique  kilns

D.J spin that wheel

A master piece in the making

Destined for E Bay, let the bidding begin

Back to Le Bellamy for some rest then a return to Cargo for dinner where, for very little coin, we ate and drank like Kings, Queens and Princes. This is indeed a place of extreme contrasts.

"The" Cargos

Charlie trying to inhale his Chocolate Mouse Truffle.

"Trust me, this Cargo's is quite the find."

You seriously expect me to choose just one

27/1/13

Today was ours to do as we wanted. Slept in, late breaky and then back to the rooms for some hangin' out time. Not wanting to sludge the whole day away we headed down to the pool for some piggy back races. Christina is current reigning champ. Then, a very dodgy attempt at some badminton. No self respecting shuttle cock should have been put through what we put that poor thing through. The locals were pissing themselves. Charlie and I then had a crack at a bit of beach volley ball. Hard yakka for a little fella but man he gave it a solid go. Hungry after all the jumping around, it was club sandwiches and watermelon juice then Callum and Charlie decided to hit the beach. 

Left foot in the top right pocket

It was like this the whole time we were there

Light lunch before hitting the badminton court.

Read the sign people, It's official, we were at China Beach

While the beach is long and beautiful the South China Sea is snarly and treacherous at this time of year. I was standing vigil on the shore watching the boys play in the breakers. The sky is a constant dense curtain pulled across the sun, dove grey with a light steely blue tinge to it. The mountain ranges to the left and the scattered islands to the right are just a vague silhouette. Vacant deck chairs are scattered up and down the beach. All sitting under faded thatched roofs, their long white cushions long packed way. Four life guards behind me run up and down the beach trying to thread a volley ball through a life saving ring dug into the sand. Yehhs ringing out to celebrate a goal and long ooohhs for the near misses. Two homeless dogs sniff and paw there way along the beach, one stopping to take a piss on one of a cluster of what I think are life saving pods. Large thimble shaped craft, thatched and laquered thick against the water. They were bone dry and pulled well back from the seas groping reach. Further down on the shores edge sits what may be an old man and his son. Their long rods cast well out past the breakers. They sit hopeful and in silence. Soon they uproot themselves and move off further down the beach. Either done for the day or just restless, I'm not sure. My two young princes bounce around in the rough wash. Their sitting, holding hands with their eyes closed, shoulders tight in anticipation of the next series of waves about to crash and roll into them. First one then another. They laugh, they shriek and I stand there glowing with pride and bursting with love. I'm a very lucky man.

Me getting disqualified for catching Charlies spike.

Baywatch, "The Senior Years"

Life should always be this much fun

Hoi An , Just one Surprise After Another

Craig Writes: This enigmatic country continues to surprise and intrigue. For over 2000 off their 2500 year history they've been at war either with themselves or some belligerent neighbour wanting a slice of the Vietnam pie. They've fought of the Champa, Chinese, Russians, French and countless other marauding invaders. As Zwayne our invaluable guide has said, the government may be easy to defeat but the vast spread of the village network makes the people very hard to conquer and control. You remove an "arm" here and it will appear again somewhere else later. For a culture with a history so steeped in centuries of warfare they seem such a humble, kind and peaceful people. They bump and bounce of each other all day long with not a word or gesture of anger or arrogance . Where there would be fights and blood shed in western cultures, here there is only calmness, tolerance and extreme flexibility. But, as you talk to them about their history, their culture and their day to day life and aspirations, you can sense lying just beneath the surface a tempered steely resolve to endure, to make the most of whatever life and opportunity afford them. Vietnam is like the small quiet kid sitting in the corner of the play ground, content to keep to himself, not seeking attention or fuss. A perfect target for any bored bully who fancies a soft target for a bit of fun or some easy gain. Its only after he picks himself up off the ground, bloodied and dazed that the bully realizes his mistake. 

Zwayne , Zwayne, Zwayne, we thought we may have had to adopt him. We've now had five different guides and he is hands, feet and chop sticks way above the rest. The tradition is to tip your guide and driver. We kept doubling his because he continued to blow us away with how far he would go to make us happy. We may have had to cut off a month at the end to pay for his tip but we just wanted to make him happy, and realistically, adoption wasnt an option. There were genuine hugs and exchange of email details when he finally left us at Hanoi airport. I'm sure if security would let him he would have followed us onto the plane to make sure our table trays were upright and our buckles nicely secured.

In the city of Hanoi you're taxed according to the width of your house. I know, strange but apparently true. Consequently you find they are all between 4 to 5 metres wide, 3 to 5 stories high and looong. So, side by side you have these enormous Lego blocks of apartments peeling off into the distance. The odd thing is that in the country areas the same tax does not apply but as life in the city is revered and the country folk think its cool to be like their city cousins you'll find standing in an open paddock with enough room for an opera house, this narrow shoe box of a house. Odd! 

There stacked high but not much wider than a parking space

We left behind the beautiful little town of SaPa and those naughty Black Hmongs and headed back down to Hanoi on the sleeper train. No vomit runs this time just a nice relaxing trip. A few hours lay over in a forgettable little hotel and a one hour plane ride down to DaNang. A big US air base during the Vietnam war and more pleasantly the home of China Beach where the late '80s show, China Beach, with the yummy Dana Delaney was set. Good series with a killer sound track. Met by our new guide Vu. On the downside, he talks in short clipped sentences with every second one finished with a rhetorical, yes! and a funny little laugh at the end of every other sentence like he's just said something funny. "..and this hospital was where a bomb drop in the war and everyone die, "hee hee hee". I don't get it. 

On the upside we're going to save on a big tip. It was only a 20 minute bus ride to our resort, Le Bellamy. Huge open plan rooms. Two toilets, separate shower and bath, four poster king size bed, and a 20 metre balcony across the front. The South China Sea pounding clear and sweet. So removed from the simple lives we have seen over the last few days it borders on surreal.

Le Bellamy is only a short cab ride into Hoi An so we popped in for a look around and to find Cargo. A french patisserie recommended by a Sydney couple we met on the way down from Hanoi. Such was the extravagant richness and sheer size of the servings that afternoon tea was to also serve as dinner. Hoi An is a gorgeous little town. Population is only around the 100,000. 

Pretty little town

Boys on the avenue

Oh get thee behind me Satan

From the 13th to the 19th century Hoian was a major trading port and only diminished in importance once the silt washing down from the mountains finally made it impossible for the big ships to enter the harbour. Many of the old buildings are still in use today and beautifully maintained. UNESCO has recognised the town as a World Heritage site. The streets are clean, the shops pretty and well stocked with quality merchandise. You can get a custom fitted cashmere suit made for $180 or a high powered laser beam with a 1km range capable of taking out the retina of any pilot for only $5. Every restaurant and cafe has a happy hour two for the price of one if you think paying $3 to $4 dollars for a full strength cocktail or $2 for a beer is too much and you want to wait. The street hawkers still bombard you but they do take no for an answer. Back to the resort and a lie down to let the body work on that chocolate mousse mountain. Next day we're off at 9 to My Son. A one thousand year old cluster of ancient Hindu temples secreted at the base of two mountain ranges and hidden from civilisation for hundreds of years till the French found them in the 17th century. The ancient Champa Kings were anointed there and many of them along with national heroes and important religious leaders were buried there. They were built over many many centuries. On a hunch some Viet Cong may have been hiding there the Americans managed to destroy most of them in a one week carpet bombing raid. Nice one Uncle Sam!

Old fossil with family in front of old fossil

Is that a Linga or are you just happy to see me

One of the great mysteries of the place was how they managed to build these 30 metre high extravagant monuments and grand temples with no cement or mortar. Just one dry brick on top of another. And, the bricks were made so they retained no moisture so even 1000 years later no moss grows on them and they are still strong with little deterioration. Apart from the bombed ones of course. 

It was eerie,intriguing and fascinating. Almost as fascinating as watching a mischievous randy little monkey sitting guard at the entrance to the ladies loos chewing his toe nails one minute and giving himself a little heady the next. The poor Japanese women didnt know whether to film him or ignore him. Some did one while pretending to do the other. 

Back to Hoi An for a bit of a walking tour with Vu. Ooohh a visit to a silk worm farm. That'll be as interesting as watching rice boil. Well, spank me pink and call me Nancy. It was actually quite fascinating. Hands up if you thought the little fellas actually spun silk like a spider spins a web. WRONG ! These creepy little crawlies are treated like bug royalty. Fed three times during the day and twice at night. Then they get to hang out,curl up and nap for a full day. As they fatten up and get bigger their moved to a cocoon rack where they spin their little cocoon. This is where they'll turn into a chrysalis then a moth, fly away and get to spend the rest of their short little lives sitting on a cabbage leaf somewhere. Wrong again. The lucky ones get to go make some babies so the whole wheel keeps turning, the not so lucky ones get to be boiled alive in their cocoons to make it possible to extract the silk from the cocoon. Yes, the cocoon is made of silk. You can get about 500 metres of single thread silk from one tiny cocoon. Bloody fascinating I reckon.

From little things big things grow

Sa Pa Time

Sa Pa is a small town high up in the mist covered mountains of the north. Only a few kilometres from the Chinese border. We caught a sleeper train up from Hanoi, an eight hour bumper car ride. The trip up was a little eventful with me chasing Callum down the narrow corridors in only my jocks. Not once, but three times.  Poor little bugger must have had some Pho that didn't agree with him and as the lightest sleeper and the fastest runner in the family it was my duty to make sure he made the 30 metre dash to the loo without sharing his noodle soup in the corridor.

Three bugs in a rug, and a few in Callums tummy as it turns out.

We pulled into Lai Cau at 5am, sleep deprived and bleary eyed,  where we were met by our guide, the delightful and 4 months pregnant Pamay.  It's dark and the train station is very very busy. An hours ride up the mountain in our mini bus gets us to SaPa. What a beautiful little town.  Its a little Asian Positano. Brightly coloured buildings built into the cliff face but instead of looking down into a sparkling Agean it looks down into a spectacular mist shrouded valley. Lush with jungle vegetation. Every other available scrap of land is terraced for rice and corn.

Could be Positano

It's paddy fields as far as the eye can see

While the boys settled in to the Sunny Mountain Hotel we decided to take the walk to the Cat Cat village.  Home of the Black Hmong tribe. One of five tribes that inhabit the valley. They moved down from China some 500 years ago and bought some interesting traditions with them. One worth sharing is the Love Market. Once a year they hold a Love Market. To put it in the quaint and delicate words of our guide, they believe that, when it comes to relationships of the most personal kind, a person should not be expected to "eat rice" all year long. That if once a year a person should wish to "eat noodle" then they should be allowed to do so. So in the ultimate spirit of the swinging 60's, once a year, no questions asked, they hook up with their favourite "piece of noodle" on the side and basically have a  big shag fest. None of the other tribes have adopted the practice but you cant help but think that come Black Hmong Love Market day some would be considering an honorary membership.

The rice fields here are enormous but every grain produced is strictly for feeding the families that live in the villages. Any money required for purchasing extras has to come from the handicrafts that the women make. It is real subsistence living.  They eat the animals they raise around the villages, predominately pigs and chickens and grow an array of other vegetables.

The following day the boys are rested and feeling good so we take off on a longer 3 hour walking trek through the valley visiting three villages as we go.

Home of the Black Hmong

This one I called" Apple Sauce", not long for the table me thinks.

A real eye opener

We decided to take all of the free hotel toiletries and a big bag of Chuppa Chops to hand out to the villagers and their kids as we walked through. The kids went the lollies like they were straight out of the Wonka factory.  They were really cute and delightfully sneaky.  Ohhh, mister mister one for my sister, then, ohhh, and one for my other sister, ohh and my brother too. Gorgeous. Fortunately there was a little store down in one of the villagers so I could restock. I wasn't sure if the toiletries, shampoo, toothbrushes, sewing kit etc would be a hit with the older women until on our return trip back up from the village we saw coming down towards us one of the  old toothless crones we met earlier. Looking resplendent  in her magnificent traditional dress, a massive beautifully woven basket slung across her slender strong shoulders, filled with exquisite handcrafted objects and indigo dyed fabrics, a gummy smile and a look of pride on her face as she recognized us.  And on her head,  a new shiny placky shower cap pulled down tightly over her ears. Toiletries are a tick.

Our guide, Parmay

Great walk, now, where's that bus?

Christina writes: Sa Pa is a relaxed mountain village, full of backpacker hostels and massage places. We booked into have a massage in the hotel, 90 minutes for $22, which we thought was a bargain. Later we discovered that just next door, 90 minutes was only $11*

Sunny Mountain Hotel

I fell in love with the textiles in the villages. The fabric is woven, dyed and stitched by hand. The dark blue of the dress of the Hmong tribe is dyed from indigo leaves that grow freely on the hillside. 

The loom, all set up for weaving.

Indigo brew, ready for newly woven cotton.

Traditional dress of tribes from surrounding villages.

Parmay with a piece she is working on for her daughter.

Close up of a quilt, hand-stitched.

Everyone in the village is industrious, whether it be in textiles, vegetable growing or incense making. The little winding paths through the villages are peaceful. Animals and children wander freely and there is a sense of contentment in the air.

Incense drying in the sun

More incense drying in the sun

uumm Charlie, about that puddle your standing in

We came , we saw, we left...amazed

Standard housing

* Craig tried out the $11 massage the next day - seems there is a reason it is half price, he told me that most of the time the masseuse only used one hand because she was texting constantly with the other hand.