Junking in Vietnam

Junk  – the word has bad connotations for North Americans – so the idea of spending a night on a junk in Ha Long Bay was received with mixed feelings.  “Don’t worry”, said Huy our guide “You will have a soft mattress and a small private shower.”  In fact what we had was a beautiful room furnished in rich warm woods, crisp white linens and a constantly changing view of magical Ha Long Bay.

 Now that it has been named one of the natural wonders of the world Ha Long Bay is certainly busy with visitors from all over the world.  I couldn’t help wondering what it was like for those intrepid travellers who ventured out to this region before it had been “discovered”.  It must have been magical.  Even with numerous junks and day trippers the area has a certain mystery about it – especially when the mist slides over the sea and wraps around the tall jagged islands.

 Our visit there included a ride around a floating village.  The village is relatively new, about fifteen years, and was a brilliant solution to the overcrowding of Hanoi.  People without homes were offered the chance to come out and start a fishing village and pearl farm which in turn has developed a little tourist industry all of its own.  The local people – mostly young girls – ferry visitors around in traditional Vietnamese boats – almost like a gondola in a way.  Kids here learn to row from an early age and we saw several very small children lying back in the boats and operating the oars with their feet.

 Other highlights of the area include visits to immense caves in the heart of the limestone islands as well as a gruelling 400 step walk up to the top of one of the islands for the “view”.  That’s if you can breathe by the time you get up there.  Phew!  In the heat and humidity that was a mini marathon.  By the time we all got down to the beach a dip in the sea was a must – even without a swimsuit.  Yes some of our ladies just walked right in with all their clothes on!  Good for them!

Zebras in Hanoi

….. as in crossing that is.  Our guide was very specific about instructions for negotiating the streets of Hanoi.  “Always cross at the zebra crossing.  Once you start crossing the street keep going but slowly.  Do not run.  Walk slowly so motorbikes will have a good chance to avoid hitting you.”

And they're off!

Now that’s pretty good advice if you ask me.  Forget about traffic lights.  They work for the most part but don’t be surprised to find scooters, motor bikes or even cars driving around you, in front of you and behind you while crossing at a pedestrian crossing.  Oh and don’t get too relaxed walking down the sidewalk.  Many bikers use this as a handy way to avoid the traffic.  Go figure.

I use the term “bikers” loosely.  For us in North America it conjures up Hell’s Angels or mid-life crisis executives clad in black leather from head to foot sitting confidently astride beautiful Harleys or BMW’s.  In Hanoi a biker could be literally anyone wanting to get from point A to point B.  Lots of girls.  Pretty office workers in stockings, suits and heels.  Moms and Dads with one or even two babies wedged between them.  It’s amazing what these bikes can do and how the riders can balance huge bags of rice, baskets piled sky-high and very long unwieldy aluminium ladders with no sight of that familiar red cloth tied to the end.  It’s pedestrian beware and the sight is enough to make any North American traffic cop want to hang up his radar.

I was astonished to see a group of tourists on a bicycle tour through the city.  Truly they deserve a medal – maybe this is going to become an Olympic sport one day.  It would certainly call on athletes with nerves of steel and great balance – qualities unfortunately that I do not possess.  So you won’t be seeing me on the bike in Vietnam – at least not in Hanoi that is.

If this is Hanoi where are my tighty whities?

There lies my suitcase – on the living room floor – and it’s packed.  The remarkable thing about this is that it was packed a good 36 hours before I am due to leave the house and head for the airport.  This must constitute a record.  It is such an amazing occurrence it has been giving me a headache and caused me to wake up in the middle of the night wondering if I have finally gone off my rocker!  People, this is an unheard of phenomenon.  I have been known to finish my packing with the taxi waiting at the front door.   This has caused huge distraction and lack of concentration – like the time we drove all the way to Calgary airport and left my bag sitting on the floor of the garage.   Or the time I completely forgot to pack my underwear.  Yes, you try wearing a pair of your husband’s tighty whities under your skirt and see how it feels.

Tighty Whities - or what I would call Y-Fronts

So I am feeling rather smug at the moment – which is not a good thing as I know from experience.  I am heading into untrodden territory – at least for me.  First stop is Hanoi, followed by Ha Long Bay, Siem Reap and the Mekong.  Wow – I feel dizzy at the thought.  Have I really packed the right stuff – maybe I should go through it all just one more time…. just to be sure.

Stop it Lesley – it will be fine.  The bag is packed – let it be….. but just double check you packed your knickers.

Insomnia in darkest Africa

2.14 am …….I can’t believe I am camping out in a small two man tent in the middle of the African bush and there isn’t even a fence between us and them … the predators.  How did I talk myself into this?  Even more curious… how did I talk my sister into this.  She hates spiders and creepy crawlies so much that she sprayed our tent with DDT and now we can hardly breathe.

This wasn't what I had in mind

2.35 am ….. Holy cow!  What is that noise?  Sounds like hyenas.  Oh… there goes the garbage can.  They must have found the leftovers from the barbecue.  Ugh, I hate hyenas – I know that sounds irrational but they look so primitive and evil.

3.05 am….. Hell’s teeth.  What’s that shouting.  It sounds like Peter.  He’s in the other tent with the kids.  What should I do?  He’s banging on the side of the tent and shouting “Voetsak” (get away in Afrikaans).  Is someone trying to break in.  How do you break into a tent anyway?  Shouldn’t I rush over there and save my babies….. mmmmmm …. where’s that Tiger Mom in me?  Oh yeah – we’re in Africa, not India.  So where is the Lion Mom in me?  Hang on a minute.  It’s gone quiet again.  He must have scared them away.  I’ll be brave and stick my head out of the tent and shout over to him.   zzzzzzzip  zzzzzip – “Are you ok Pete?”  “Yes, go back to sleep”.  Sleep?  Who is he kidding?

3.15 am ….. so what happened to the Ranger.  He said he was going to take the rifle with him and if we needed anything in the night just shout.  He must be as deaf as a post. Shame such a young man too!  Just hope we don’t get a herd of marauding elephant through here.

3.45 am …… I wonder how Trish manages to sleep with her hat on.  She’s had it on all night.  Says it keeps the spiders from falling on her head.  Yawn….

4.15 am….. Oh how lovely – an owl in the tree over us hooting away.  At least it will keep us company.

4.50 am ….. Wish I had the rifle.  I would shoot that bloody owl.

5.10 am….. Hang on.. I think dawn is coming.  I can see a pinky light through the mosquito netting of the tent.  Maybe we can get up now.   zzzzzzip zzzzzip - Oh wow look it IS daytime.  And here comes our trusty ranger with his rifle.  “Hi!  What a night hey?”…. He looks puzzled “Really?  I dunno.  I had my wisdom teeth out yesterday so I took two percocet and slept all night.  What’s wrong?  Why are you looking at me like that?”

Really!

Flying carpets and Genuine Fake watches in Kusadasi

  “As you walk down these streets remember that you are walking the same streets as St Paul, St John and probably Mary, the mother of Jesus,” our guide told us as we walked into the ancient city of Ephesus. 

Just go and immerse yourself in history

It was also the honeymoon choice for Cleopatra and Marc Anthony.  Imagine that!  Excavations continue on an ongoing basis as and when funding is available and only about 10% of the city has been excavated so far.   If you do have Kusadasi on your itinerary a tour of Ephesus is a must.  Our guide (a high school teacher) made the place come alive for us so please don’t feel that this is just another tour of ancient ruins. 

Inevitably as part of our tour we ended up at a carpet weaving demonstration.  Our guide joked that this was part of the tour and assured us that the proprietor was not his cousin and he wasn’t getting a commission. 

Honestly - they flew - they really did!

It certainly was interesting learning how the carpets were made and we were served with refreshments of our choice while a whole team of robust looking Turks rolled out carpet after carpet on the floor.  When they got down to the smaller ones they skilfully spun them up in the air so we could truly say we had been to Turkey and seen a flying carpet. 

When the demonstration was over however the skilful carpet spinners honed in to see if they could spin a sale.  Don’t get me wrong – they were quite pleasant and polite when we declined to purchase.  Some of our group did indeed buy rugs and came home with some delightful examples of extremely skilful work from the carpet co-operative.

Kusadasi was really not what I had expected.  It is very Western in feel.  The people are sophisticated, friendly and speak English quite well.

Genuine Fake Watches - gee what a find!

  Shopping in Kusadasi was a treat.  Great silver, leather, silks and ceramics and even some Genuine Fake watches.  I had to keep in mind that I was planning to return to Turkey later in my trip and the Grand Bazaar in Istanbul was calling my name.  I did however make a very small contribution to the economy with the purchase of a silver necklace.  Well really – I like to do my part!

Donkey fighting in Santorini

Now back off Mr Donkey

Now I feel sorry for the donkeys, don’t get me wrong.  But I know where the mule part comes from and when you are negotiating a steep rocky path from the top of Santorini down to the ferry station everyone is fighting for territory.  Maybe we should have taken the gondola – we did have the tickets after all – but the line-up was horrendous so we thought we would be clever and walk down.  What we didn’t realise before we started was that the rocks on the path were polished smooth by the thousands of people (and donkeys) who have gone up and down this path.  In addition to this they were well oiled by liberal doses of donkey poo.  I was halfway down the path ahead of my sister when I realised that she was in a confrontation with a donkey.  Unable to move and squashed up against the side of the wall by the donkey she burst into tears so her husband had no option but to punch the donkey in the neck.

Now before you go all PETA on me it hurt him a lot more than it hurt the donkey.  Trust me – his hand was red for days. 

Any idea when these cruise ships go away?

The problem was of course that there were no less than 7 cruise ships in the harbour.  Imagine pouring out all those passengers into the tiny streets of Santorini.  The people pressure was unbelievable and I was told that 11 ships were expected the next day.  What a shame.  It is indeed a beautiful island with stunning little hotels literally hanging onto the side of the cliffs.  My best bet – if you really want to see Santorini go in October, sleep late, eat lunch at the pool of your hotel and then by 4 pm you should be safe to venture out and enjoy the island as it was meant to be enjoyed.

She's shopping - he's sleeping

After seeing Monemvasia I am sure there are many such undiscovered and beautiful places to visit in Greece and I plan to find them.  Stay tuned!  Preferably somewhere without a donkey ride involved!

Roots – Malta style

Trish with our taxi driver Chris outside the hospital in Malta where they were both born

Despite being covered in tattoos and only having one tooth – Chris is truly the best taxi driver in Malta. 

We had decided not to take any of the shore excursions in Malta as this was a very special stop for myself and my sister.  She was born there back in the 50’s (not sure if I have permission to disclose the actual year!) while I was just a toddler.  Our father had been stationed there with the Royal Navy.  We had a bunch of old photos and a vague idea of where to go to see special family places. 

We decided that the best thing to do was to hire a taxi for 5 hours.  This was very reasonable for the 4 of us – less than 100 Euros.  The taxi concierge waved Chris over and told us not to be put off by his appearance.  Really he did look a bit like a Maltese Hells Angel.  Battered face, arms like sides of ham covered in tattoos – and that one lonely tooth.  Turns out he was a big teddy bear with a heart bigger than his biceps.  He took charge of the “investigation” and wasted no time driving down the narrow streets regularly stopping to shout for help from passers by.  “Hey Charlie!” he would shout – followed by a long animated conversation in Maltise.  A few blocks later he would wind the window down again – “Hey Charlie!”…. another discussion.  Naively I asked if all the men in Malta were called Charlie.  “Yes” he replied “ or Joey!” 

Other words of wisdom from Chris included the recommendation never to ask a teenager or a young person anything.  If you want to find out something in Malta ask an older person.  The older men were always Charlie and the younger men were Joeys.  True to what Chris had said –  the Joeys knew nothing.

So Grannie came out to help

Things got really interesting when we were trying to find the house where we lived.  All I had was an old photo of myself as a baby and a Maltise lady who was the landlady.  “OK, wait here,” said Chris and with that he knocked on the door.  Before we knew it we were surrounded by about 20 people all from the street, all looking at the photo, passing it around, offering advice.  Maybe it’s this one’s cousin.  No, no – it’s this one’s Aunt.  Let’s get granny out – she is in the back room having a snooze.  No really she wouldn’t want to miss this.  She knows everything.  She’s 92.

Before we knew it we had a small crowd.  The people from next door joined in and they called a passer-by to come over and give their opinion.  The photo was passed from one to another with much excited shouting in Maltise.

And then there were more

Apart from all the “Down Memory Lane” experiences we also spent time down at the harbour famous for its prettily painted fishing boats and quay side markets.  Another must is the walled city of Mdina which has been carefully preserved.  We really only scratched the surface when we were there and truly the island warrants at least a week to enjoy all that it has to offer.

  The Maltese people are so friendly, speak excellent English and as part of the EU are now revitalising their island with new public transit.  Having said that many people, both locals and visitors, are sad to see the end of the famous yellow buses which have been operating in Malta since the 1950′s. 

Goodbye Yellow Bus

Our trip to Malta ended with bear hugs from Chris, new photos of old places to include in the family history and a determination to return to Malta for a longer stay.

Sicily – tales of Mafia and Mummies

Yes – I could just picture Marlon Brando in Forza d’Agro with his cheeks padded with cotton wool while he chastised all and sundry “And you don’t even call me Godfather”.  Wow – Sicily.  What an incredible place.  Who knew?  I saw it on the itinerary of our cruise and wondered why anyone would want to go there when there are so many other possible ports in the Med.  It’s beautiful, authentic and it is home to the best pizza I have ever had.

My sister and I - Godfather church in the background

We chose to do the tour which followed in the footsteps of the Godfather, the main emphasis being on two small villages high in the mountains above the tiny port which lies under brooding Mt Etna (it’s latest eruption was May this year).  Francis Ford Coppola was looking for just the right village and the right church to feature in his film of the Mafia family.  Well he found two villages, each with its unique character.  Twisting zig zag roads took us all the way to the top.  I thought was I lucky in the front seat of the coach but after an up front and personal view of the precipice below I was reconsidering that.

For some strange un-Godfather like reason, we were taken to see one of the ancient churches where a quaint selection of mummies was stored.  Still in their original clothes which seemed to be dated back to the early 19^th century, they lay in grotesque horror show style contortions.  Lovely.  The tradition was started by a sect of monks whose sole task appears to have been preservation of the dead.  The tiny crypt only held about 12 people (I mean the live ones….) so we had to take it in turns.  Mmmm.  Our guide said he wouldn’t bother – he had met them already. 

By this stage we were ready for fresh air and sunshine – and maybe a beer or two.  Sitting in the courtyard of a tiny pizzeria overlooking the incredible hills and landscape of a very lush Sicily we were treated to the best pizza ever.  Cooked in a traditional wood burning pizza oven the pastry was unbelievably thin and crisp.  I don’t think I will ever be able to repeat that.

While we were there a local family was celebrating a wedding in one of the rooftop restaurants.  For a moment or two we thought perhaps it was Godfather 4 or 5 that was being filmed.  These guys looked the real thing.  Black suits, expensive sunglasses, shifty demeanour.  Listen, I am sure they are very nice men who work as lawyers or doctors or plumbers in the town but you have to let your imagination run riot when you are in a place like this.  Adds to the atmosphere.

Others in our group had the time to visit Taormina – another medieval city high in the hills above the port which has now been dubbed the Monte Carlo of Sicily.  This is where the rich and famous come to party so the town is replete with upmarket shopping, restaurants and 5 star boutique hotels. 

Once back on board and sailing away from Sicily with the sun setting behind Mount Etna we all agreed that this was a place that would warrant  a return visit.  As the evening wore on descriptions of the mummies, their clothes, hair, teeth (or lack of teeth) grew more fantastical until I think that if Francis Ford Coppola was there he would have had some good material for the Return of the Godfather.

Goodbye Amalfi…. hello Naples

Well when you travel …. Stuff happens.  The stuff in this case was a strong wind and 4 foot swells so the Captain decided not to visit Amalfi which was a big disappointment to a lot of his passengers.  However as we were going to tender in it probably made good sense – so instead we were heading to Naples.

Now for history buffs this was a good chance to go out and visit either Pompeii or Herculaneum – both old Roman towns affected by the eruptions of Mt Vesuvius.  Pompeii is much bigger than Herculaneum but following the advice of my Italian specialist Amanda – I chose to visit Herculaneum and was really happy with my choice.  The difference is that Herculaneum was a sort of seaside resort for the wealthy and as such the frescoes are beautiful and well preserved.  It is quite amazing to realise that you are treading on pathways that were once part of a bustling town.  It is also really very close to the port in Naples.

Our tour guide was excellent and has been working at this site for 17 years.  We could see she had a real passion for her topic and was extremely knowledgeable.  So all in all a great tour to do – highly recommended.

Now ….. Naples.  There`s a town that needs a big overhaul.  Wow – so much garbage.  Apparently there has been an ongoing strike or threatened strike for years.  This has affected garbage collection and sadly affects the city as well. 

At the pier there is a giant new shopping centre with acres of marble and lots of shops staffed by very disinterested Neopolitans…. What a shame.

Little Lesley’s Amazing Adventures

Meet Little Lesley

Little Lesley loves to travel and she has found a way to do this on the cheap …. whenever she hears someone in the agency is going away she hatches a devilish plan.  She is small enough to hide inside the most organised purse (just between the cell phone and the wallet) so after picking her “mule”, confirming the date of departure and making sure she has a clean dress, she’s into the purse and off on another adventure. 

So where to this time.  Her innocent “mule” is Donna who is headed off to the beautiful Sandals resort in Exuma.  This is an opportunity Little Lesley could not miss.  She loves luxury and just looks so good in a 5 star hotel.  On the long flight to Exuma – via Toronto – Donna suspected nothing.  However on the first night at the resort she was tipped off by a Junkanoo Know-it-all. 

Psst - Donna I need to tell you something

That’s the thing with the Bahamas – the people there are so incredibly tall. Even next to Donna they were tall and you can imagine how they looked to Little Lesley.  But now Little Lesley was well and truly busted. 

She wasted no time and set about doing an assessment of the resort and all the goodies.   And there are lots of things to check out – five restaurants, three huge pools (one with a fire pit right in the middle), the indulgent Red Lane Spa and a Greg Norman inspired championship golf course.

Mmmm check, check and check

 They all seemed to check out.  Of course all wines, beers and premium brand drinks are included in your Sandals vacation.  Rooms are airy and bright with the signature dark wood furniture – many rooms with four poster beds.   The resort was previously a Four Seasons and since being acquired by the Sandals group a lot of work has been done to “Sandalize” the resort and create that unique experience.   Set on 500 acres, the gardens are a delight of emerald green grass and flowering shrubs dotted with hammocks and comfy wicker couches. 

I love the beach

  
Getting there - Air Canada offers direct service from Toronto to Exuma so connecting from Calgary is fairly easy.   Just hop onto the red eye and before you know it, you are on the beach.   A friendly Sandals welcome awaits at the airport and transfer to the hotel is by taxi – approximately 15 minutes.

How much? – 11 September departure from Calgary from only $2375.57 including taxes for one week.

So how did Little Lesley enjoy her Amazing Adventure in Exuma?  Well we can’t really answer that question because no sooner had she returned that she found out Anni was leaving for Bali – so she stowed-away – and was last seen heading in the direction of Calgary airport……..Stay tuned for more Amazing Adventures.  It has all been too much for Little Lesley