The Old Vietnam

Now that we had experienced the "New Vietnam," we were on our way to the "Old Vietnam," and by this, I mean the cultural and imperial past, in the cities of Hoi An and Hue.

We were steadily making our way north up the coast. Vietnam being a long, thin country, most of its urban centers are located along the coast (or near the coast). Bus journeys between these places are long and arduous. Not only are the customary sleeper buses uncomfortable and impractical (who really wants to lie down for twelve hours straight?), but there is a level of dishonesty when booking a ticket. For instance, we were assured that there would be bathrooms on every sleeper bus we'd be taking, and yet--no bathrooms. Not even the hint of a bathroom, as they simply hadn't been included in the bus design. So it was a blatant lie told to us over and over again. And as bathroom stops were infrequent, like every six hours, we really had to suck up the whole experience. The "beds" were more like torture devices, with their hard plastic covers and metal bars to keep us in place as the driver maniacally spun the bus's steering wheel. Foot space was cramped, and there was no place to store our personal items. The seat I had (which I had considered decent in comparison to the middle seats) was on the upper level by a window. Seen as how my face was only inches from the ceiling, I had air conditioning blowing directly onto my right cheek. The vent was missing, so it was just a gaping hole in the ceiling. I tried plugging it up, but to no avail. That steady stream of air was like Chinese water torture and there was no way I could escape it as I couldn't even lay on my side. Chris's experience was not much better, and neither of us slept on our twelve hour ride from Nha Trang to Hoi An. Sleeper buses--Vietnam's invention of hell for backpackers.

On to happier subjects: Hoi An.

The Culture Capital

This charming city is a UNESCO World Heritage Site, and rightly so. Wandering the streets of the Ancient Town was like stepping back in time, with rickshaws, paper lanterns and colorfully-painted buildings. Because we hadn't made it to China, I can't make an accurate comparison, but it very much reminded me of China. Not modern China, but those back alley parts of China with noodle stands and tailor shops and wafting traditional music. This makes sense, as Hoi An used to be a Chinese trading port from the 15th to the 19th century. Chinese wooden architecture abounds, but as well as French colonial buildings, painted yellow. In fact, when I think of Hoi An, I think of yellow, as in mustard yellow. How nicely this color looked as a backdrop to the brightly colored lanterns which graced every doorway.

On our first night in Hoi An, we walked down a long alley from our hotel to the Ancient Town. The Ancient Town comprises a large area which is located along the waterfront of the Thu Bon River and around a series of canals. The bridges here are world class: the wooden Japanese Bridge is carved and ornate, and the main bridge crossing the river is covered in lights and lanterns. Standing on that main bridge at night was like celebrating Valentine's Day, surrounded by lights and loving energy from the gathered crowds. Women were selling lighted lanterns by the water's edge, which they were releasing into the river. There was something dreamy and romantic about Hoi An.

Open front cafes lined the river. Chris and I sat in a few, enjoying drinks and watching the activity along the water's edge. Though there were many places to drink in Hoi An, the atmosphere didn't lend itself to drunkenness. In fact, there were very few from the backpacker crowd in Hoi An, but that was perhaps because they weren't obnoxiously present. Instead of a party town, Hoi An reminded me of Taos or Ubud, with middle-aged couples looking for arts and crafts to purchase.

Our stay in Hoi An was leisurely; we had no tours lined up. This was perfect, for Hoi An is set up for languid wandering. The shops and restaurants are top-notch, a classy mix of traditional and modern. One of my best meals happened in the streets of the Ancient Town, and I do not say this lightly (as I think I've written several times in this blog that "my best meal was *insert meal*") as it was the anticipation of this meal that really did it for me. We had been eating Vietnamese food for several weeks. which is not itself a bad thing, for Vietnamese fare is fresh and tasty. However, it's very simple in comparison to the layers of flavor offered in, say, a curry. Having discovered my love for Indian food on this trip through Southeast Asia, I was craving it in a big way. We located an Indian restaurant called Ganesh's and headed there for lunch on our second day in Hoi An. It was everything and more than I could have asked for. Fat juicy prawns that popped in my mouth, layered flavors of curry with just the right balance of heat and spice with fresh chopped coriander and naan bread to dip--it was pure heaven. There were many excellent Indian meals to be found on our travels--and for this, Indian tops my list for my favorite cuisine. Over these past few years, it's been a race between Thai and Indian, and Indian has pulled ahead for the lead. Not bad for a cuisine that I used to avoid.

Though we had decided not to take any tours, we agreed that a boat ride on the Thu Bon River might be nice. We found a lovely older gentleman with missing teeth who sold us an hour trip down the river and back. He kept insisting on a two-hour ride, but I was adamant about it being just one hour. One thing I was noticing about the hawkers in Hoi An, they were quiet and polite, but at the same time, wily in extracting tourist dollars. This was seen in the older woman who placed a peasant stick upon my shoulder in one of the alleyways. It was meant for a photo op: Sarah bringing home her load of bananas. The lady had assured us "no cost" for this photo op, but I've grown wise to this tactic. Nothing is ever for free. And sure enough, she pressured us to by a banana (at a special price for tourists!) from her as I handed her load back. We were to experience this again on our boat ride, not with a load of bananas, but with fishermen. Our driver had slowed down at a point in the water so we could watch some fisherman cast their nets. This was interesting enough, and Chris and I appropriately snapped pictures for a perfect shot. But then one of the fishermen rowed his boat over, and we were getting the sense that these guys were not out to catch fish, but rather, tourists. The guy climbed in our boat and showed us how to cast a net. Chris gave it a go while I recorded it. One, two, three--Chris tossed the net, and never got it outside of the boat. Instead, he had snagged it on the side, which we all got a good laugh out of. But as the man tried to untangle the net, we were worried that Chris might have damaged it. Turns out the net was fine, but before the man hopped back in his boat, he insisted that we pay him. For what--we weren't entirely sure. Chris offered him money, but the guy demanded more. Chris defiantly tucked his wallet away, so the guy scampered back to his boat. Experiences like this turned us off to hawkers in general, as was hard to tell who's authentic and who was out to made a shady buck.

Our stay in Hoi An was short but sweet. Not a whole lot happened; we sat around a lot, drank cocktails in trendy bars and relished the architecture and crafts in this artist enclave. We may have had too much to drink on certain occasions, but we tried to keep in classy. Or not. I have recordings of Chris giving interviews as "The World's Most Sexiest Man" and putting on the persona of Sir Jim from Georgetown. Though these videos continue to crack me up, rest assured the internet world will never lay eyes on them.

Below the DMZ

Hue is a city located right below the DMZ--the demilitarized zone which used to divide North and South Vietnam. Though this line no longer exists, it's still worth bearing in mind the role of Hue in the Vietnam War. The Battle of Hue was the bloodiest battles in the war, with most casualties on the communist side. Eighty percent of the city was bombed by U.S. airstrikes. Thankfully, much of the Imperial City within the Citadel was preserved.

It's easy to draw comparisons between the Imperial City in Hue and the one in Bejing. In fact, within the Imperial City is the Purple Forbidden City where only members of the Nguyen imperial family can enter (the Nguyen dynasty was the last ruling family of Vietnam). But before I get too far ahead of myself, let me at least write about our first impression of Hue.

Hue was massive, especially compared to Hoi An. Right off the bus, Chris and I were overwhelmed with its size and bustle. Though Ho Chi Minh City was much larger in population, it seemed more accessible and tourist-friendly. Hue was fast-paced and not set up for tourism, at least in the area of the city where our hotel was located. We thought we were strategically-placed from a tourist standpoint, only a few blocks down from the Perfume River, but we had the hardest time finding a place to eat on our first night. Nothing we came across was catered for tourists. We finally settled on a restaurant right on the river which served bland, vegetarian fare. We were the only foreigners around. The area around the river lacked nightlife. We didn't wander far, as there wasn't anything to see along the unlit riverwalk. Quite frankly, we were a little daunted by it all.

Hue is a city that is hard from the cement up; it lacks the color and the vibrance of other Vietnamese cities. On the surface, Hue seemed to lack soul. But we knew that the draw of Hue was the imperial sites, so we would have to get cracking on that stuff.

We headed out on our own the next day. Walking along the Perfume River (isn't that a great name?) we came to the Citadel with its large crumbling walls. Right away we were impressed with the scale of everything. We purchased tickets into the Imperial City, and were very happy to find that we could explore it on our own without a guide. Of course, a guide could have given us pertinent information that I could pass on here, but I admit that I knew very little about what we were seeing. It didn't really matter, as everything was very ancient and royal-looking. Temples, pagodas, gates, cool little gazebos along canals, gardens, pavilions, court shit--it was all good. The city is massive; we could have spent days there. But we were interested in capturing good shots. The actual info--well, there's always Wikipedia.

Because we couldn't get out a Hue without signing up for a tour, we chose to take a boat ride along the Perfume River. We were so tour-weary at this point, but we were offered a ride on a Dragon Boat. Now who in their right mind would refuse a ride down the Perfume River on a Dragon Boat? It sounded like something out of a fairy tale. Unfortunately, the weather was crap on the day of our tour with heavy rain pouring down. But the boat was covered and most of the sites were indoors so it was all good. We actually ended up enjoying this tour, as our tour mates were amicable. We made friends with a cute French guy named Nicolae. I must say that all the French travelers we met in Asia were slowly washing the sour taste of southern France out of my mouth. I suppose that's because they were the backpacker type, not out to make an impression with their fashion-sense and cool countenance. All the ones we met were down-to-earth, and some were downright charming, like Nicolae, whose smile could melt butter.

We made various stops along the river, to different palaces and temples. We banged gongs and circumvented pagodas, all in the rain. At one temple, we came across an interesting relic--a rusting baby blue car. It was the car from the famous Burning Monk photo. In June of 1963, Vietnamese Buddhist monk Thich Quang Duc set himself on fire on a busy street corner in Saigon while other monks looked on. This act was done in protest of the discrimination against Buddhists by the South Vietnamese Diem regime. By pouring gasoline over himself and setting himself on fire (with some help from the other monks) he was looking to become a martyr and generate media attention, and for this, he succeeded. The photo of him burning is quite haunting, as his face is so serene. Oh, what religion can drive some people to do.

We were to find that only half of our tour was along the Perfume River. At some point, we hopped on a bus and continued on to the Imperial Tombs of Hue.

Once again, I can't provide much information, as we were largely left to wander. But let's just say that these tombs were pretty darn impressive. We visited the tombs of Tu Duc, Ming Mang and Khai Dinh (thanks goes to Chris's blog for this info). Who are these guys? Powerful emperors with cool names, that's all I know. Oh yes, and they loved the ladies. Just a bit of info: Ming Mang had over 300 wives and concubines. Now that was a busy man!

I don't mean to belabor the point, but culturally, Vietnam is very similar to China. At least when it comes to its imperial past. This may be because Vietnam was under Chinese control for many centuries. So it all makes sense. Though we may have missed out on China, we got a good dose of Chinese culture in Hue.

Back in the city, we finally wandered into a decent neighborhood with some nightlife. We enjoyed some mojitos at the DMZ, a trendy backpacker bar. It seemed a fitting way to end our stay, drinking to Vietnam's past and optimism for the future.

Getting our Ducks in a Row

It was at this point in our travels that we seriously had to start thinking about our return trip. Originally we had considered extending our travels in France. Since we had missed out on the Pyrenees because of weather, we were wanting to visit that region again. It had been my goal to hike the Cathar trail. But our cash supplies were running short, so we really had to evaluate our situation. We needed to have enough money to be able to set up shop in the States.

We both had profiles on Help-X, a site for volunteering. I had read some really cool experiences from Help-Xers, traveling on the cheap by working in exchange for food and board. The choices were endless; we could volunteer anywhere in the world. However, the more money left for America, the better. It was time to get real.

I updated my Help-X profile to specify that I was looking for a situation in America. I wasn't looking for travel, I was looking to make a home. I always knew that I wouldn't be returning to the Midwest. Not that the Midwest is a horrible place (looking back I can see that it's a great place to grow up), but I was looking for something out West--for the West has always fascinated me. I wanted mountains and blue sky; I wanted a place far from the mill towns on Northern England. Ironically, I was seeking out a place with a plenitude of sunshine (I say ironically, because my home is now in one of the rainiest regions of America). Chris and I were looking to Boulder, Colorado, as we had only heard good things about that area: lots of jobs, the housing market was good, top notch restaurants and shops--but it was its proximity to the mountains which appealed to me the most. I needed to be outdoors.

I corresponded with a lady who lived in Boulder; she was running a pet-sitting business. This sounded ideal. I explained my situation, that I was looking to volunteer and yet set up a home at the same time. We emailed back and forth for a bit, though she was very picky with her Help-X volunteers. She said that she would only consider me if we Skyped for a length of time. I explained to her that Skyping is nearly impossible in Vietnamese cafes, but she was determined to only correspond though that means. Chris told me to give it up; anyone who was that set in their ways was probably going to be a pain to live with.

There were other volunteer opportunities near Boulder, but none of them seemed terribly feasible. I applied at an animal shelter in southern Wyoming, a few hours drive from Denver. I thought I could make the commute to Boulder or Denver on weekends to interview for jobs and check out housing. I even considered a Buddhist retreat in the Colorado desert (now THAT would have been interesting!), but as I was waiting for the animal ranch to get back to me, and considering other possibilities, a lady named Tamsen emailed me. Her question was simple: Would you consider moving to Alaska?

I found that amusing, because at one time, Alaska had been my goal. That had come at a point where I was considering leaving the U.K. and paving my own way without Chris. I took out books from the library on Alaska, comparing regions and weighing the pros and cons of each place. I found that the Southeast was beautiful, but too expensive. Anchorage didn't really appeal to me, but some of the surrounding areas looked nice. I ran the idea of Alaska by Chris one day while we were making up at the Leeds Music Festival. I sold him on the idea of Alaska, but then quickly gave it up after watching "You Betcha!", a documentary about Sarah Palin. I honestly thought everyone in Alaska was of the Palin mentality. Silly, I know, but that document scared the crap out of me and I turned my sights to Boulder. And now some lady was asking if I wanted to move to Alaska. And what was my response? Probably not.

Still, I was desperate for a situation. And Tamsen was quite persistent. She gave me descriptions of Haines, a place I had never heard of before. Back in my travel agent days, I had perused brochures on the Alaskan panhandle, so I was familiar with places such as Skagway and Sitka, but I had never heard of Haines. In the hot humid air of our hotel room in Hue, I googled Haines, and it looked like heaven to me. Snow-peaked mountains, eagles, spruce forests, deep blue fjords, moose and bears--it was a million miles away from where we now were.

Tamsen and I rapidly emailed each other back and forth. I was still entertaining the idea of working at that animal shelter in Wyoming, but they had failed to respond to my query. Tamsen was so helpful, giving me details of the town and even suggesting places I could work. It soon became evident that Tamsen would be an incredible connection in the process of setting up a new life in America.

So... Alaska it would be.