Happy Belated Canada Day!!

Entering Laos
We hope everyone had a great Canada Day and an enjoyable long weekend!

We 'celebrated' Canada Day by crossing the Vietnam/Laos border, and spending a total of 22+ hours on buses. We travelled from Hué, Vietnam to Vientiane, Laos. And just as a special Canada Day treat for me, I got reamed at the border ... I had to pay US$45 for my visa as opposed to US$40 for Ulrik (Danish) or US$35 for the Australian girls or US$38 for the South African guy we crossed the border with. Happy Canada Day to me, indeed!

Oh well. Guess I shouldn't complain too much ... I did get a new visa in my passport!

For more photos, see our Laos photo album.

The DMZ on Two Wheels

Lee fit perfectly in the confined
space of the Vinh Moc Tunnels
One of the last things we needed to check off our list of "Things we absolutely must do when we're in Vietnam" was visit the demilitarized zone (DMZ) at the 17th parallel. The 17th parallel was the "provisional military demarcation line" that divided North and South Vietnam.

We travelled to Hué thinking we could sign up with a small tour of the DMZ. But after asking around, it seemed like the only tour on offer was 12 hours (6:00am to 6:00pm) on a big bus with more than 30 people! There was no way I was getting on this tour. Big bus tours where you're shuttled around like cattle are not for me -- especially ones that last 12 hours! We were about to give up when we came across the Stop 'n Go Café, which offers personalized motorbike tours of the DMZ. Yay! No big tour bus and no annoying tourists! (Well ... except for us, that is.) For a bit more than the big bus (US$16 vs US$10), we would each get our own motorbike and driver and we would decide where and when we would stop along the way. Sounds good, sign us up!

Ulrik and Bill, our guide
We met up with our guide Bill, and second driver Vinh, at 7:00am and were quickly on the road. Riding through the countryside on a motorbike was so much fun!

Our ultimate destination was the Vinh Moc tunnels, an underground labrynth of tunnels located more than 90km north of Hué. En route we stopped at a shrine and a monument, and crossed the bridge that spans the 17th parallel and the Ben Hai River. We also stopped for a coffee break and a tea break, but they were really bum breaks -- riding a motorbike is quite hard on the ass! Bill also pointed out interesting things as we drove past such as cemeteries for fallen soldiers and bomb craters in rice fields (they look like little ponds).

The highlight of the day, however, were the Vinh Moc tunnels. They were truly amazing. With it's three levels below the earth, it was like a small underground city. People lived there for various lengths of time; school was taught; people had babies; there were even regular theatrical performances!

Probably the two scariest people you could have driving a tank
On the way back we saw the remains of a bombed/shot-up/rocketed Catholic church and ended the day with a visit to the local military museum where we got to play on a bunch of old American and Russian tanks, AA guns, APCs, and howitzers.

Our guide Bill was quite a character, and he made our day that much more memorable. In addition to telling us interesting stories about his experience during the American-Vietnamese war (he was an advisor to the US Marines), he also told us entertaining stories about himself. Although we learned more about his personal life than we needed to, he was a truly friendly and genuine guy, and he took great care of us. I am sure the day would have been only half as interesting without him.

For more photos, see our DMZ photo album.

Retail Therapy

A production along Hoi An's waterfront
After our grueling bicycle ride from Dalat, Lee and I decided we were due some serious R'n'R. And as it turned out, the small town of Hoi An (the final stop on our bike tour) was probably one of the best places in Vietnam to do just that. A World Heritage site, Hoi An's narrow cobblestoned streets are lined with traditional Vietnamese buildings (which were, fortunately, largely spared during the Vietnamese-American war) built with dark wooden frames and moss-covered roof tops. Not only was Hoi An much more laid-back than any other Vietnamese town we had visited thus far, the town goes one step further and actually closes off portions of the town centre to motorized traffic in the evening. Compared to the usual obnoxious pandemonium of motorbikes going every which way, it was a really nice change being able to walk across the street without fearing for your life.

Hoi An is also famous (or perhaps, infamous) for it's shopping; specifically, it's tailor-made clothes. You can't turn a corner in Hoi An without coming across a tailor shop (or five) that will make you made-to-measure clothes -- from one of their samples or from any of a number of catalogues they have on hand -- for next to nothing and in less than 48 hours.

I've always wanted to get a suit made, so after much research we went to a store named Yaly. Although slightly more expensive than the competition, it seemed to have a solid reputation. After explaining what I wanted, choosing materials (with some help from Luna, our shop assistant), and getting measurements done, I ordered a three-piece suit (jacket, pants, and vest), one shirt, and a pair of shoes. (I should mention that the shoemaker took my foot 'measurements' by drawing an outline of my foot on a piece of paper!) With no deposit required, they promised everything would be ready the following day.

Ulrik getting a little helping hand at one of
Hoi An's culinary establishments
True to their word, when we returned the following day everything was ready for the first fitting. A few minor adjustments were needed, but when I returned that evening (less than a day-and-a-half after placing my order) the suit, shirt, and shoes fit perfectly. I was now a nice outfit richer, and only US$237 poorer (the suit was US$130, the vest US$50, the shirt US$12, and shoes US$45). Not too bad. But I have to be careful; I've lost a fair bit of weight while on the road, and since the suit (especially the trousers) are a perfect fit, I can't afford to put any of it back on!

While Lee had originally decided not to buy anything (she is so not a shopper -- most women would arrive in Hoi An and -- with all the made-to-measure clothes and shoes(!) -- go crazy), she couldn't help herself when she saw how "smoking hot" I was in my new suit (her words, not mine) that she ended up ordering one for herself as well. She ordered a jacket, pants, and skirt, and was just as pleased with her new outfit as I was with mine. (And, I have to say, she looked pretty "smoking hot" too.)

Lee in her snazzy new suit
(ignore the terrible borrowed shoes)
Unfortunately, after whiling away many a morning on the Mekong riverfront enjoying pots of Vietnamese tea and warm chocolate croissants (only C$0.30 a piece!), our idyll had to end eventually. With emptier pockets (but, fortunately, not heavier packs -- we shipped everything home from Hoi An's incredibly efficient post office), we finally got ourselves on a bus north to the town of Hué and the DMZ (demilitarized zone).

For more photos, see our Vietnam photo album.

Biking the Ho Chi Minh Trail

A few of the many children that came running
to say hello as we biked by
Before we came to Vietnam we seriously considered doing a bike tour, but all the tours we found online were either incredibly expensive or didn't coincide with our dates. By the time we finally arrived in Vietnam, the idea had gotten pushed to the back of our minds. So it was by complete chance that we found Groovy Gecko Tours, and are we ever glad we did! They do a five-day bike tour from Dalat to Hoi An that follows the Ho Chi Minh Trail through the Central Highlands. It not only fit within our budget (US$65 per person per day, all-inclusive), but it also fit with the way we like to travel -- we stayed in local guesthouses and ate the local food. And, because they needed only two people to run the tour, our group was nice and small -- just me, Ulrik, Thang (our guide), and Phuoc (the driver of the support van).

Day 1 (June 20) - Dalat to Lak Lake
total time on bike: 5:35
total distance covered: 112km
The first 15km was a fantastic adrenaline-rush of a downhill; the only muscles I used were those in my right forearm for holding the brake -- it was such a steep ride! Unfortunately, it came to an end all too soon. The rest of the day consisted of a lot of ups and downs, with two more big downs to enjoy. We stopped a couple of times; once to see a silk factory and once to explore a local waterfall.

Day 2 (June 21) - Lak Lake to Buon Ma Thuot
total time on bike: 4:30
total distance covered: 68km
A short day; we spent quite a bit of time off the bikes. We visited a local village, enjoyed the view from the King's former hunting lodge (now a hotel and restaurant), saw a local brick factory, and checked out two more waterfalls. Today's ride didn't have any major hills which, unfortunately, meant we also didn't have any fun downhills either. The highlight for me today was lunch! We had fantastic wrap-yourself fresh spring rolls; they were absolutely delish!

Day 3 (June 22) - Buon Ma Thuot to Kon Tum
total time on bike: 6:00
total distance covered: 107km
Loooong day today; we had a lot of distance to cover and we had no major downhills to eat up the kilometres. Today I learned what I was made of. We agreed at lunch to push on to 4:00pm, and if we did, we should make our distance for the day. By 3:30pm, however, with more than five hours on the bike and more than 95km behind me, I was so done. But with only about 10km to go -- of, unfortunately, flat, flat, flat road -- there was no way I was conceding defeat. We made our distance, and I was only 10min behind schedule.

When biking, cows always have the right of way
Day 4 (June 23) - Kon Tum to Kham Duc
total time on bike: 6:15 (Lee) / 6:50 (Ulrik)
total distance covered: 99km (Lee) / 114km (Ulrik)
We had a big challenge before us today ... not only did we have a lot of ground to cover, but we also faced a 15km mountain pass that we would hit at the end of the day. It was our own fault really. Thang, our guide, gave us the option of starting closer to town and stopping before the pass or starting further from town and ending with the pass. Ego-driven fools that we are, we said we'd do the pass. I think we must have been on crazy pills!

Despite the heat and the feeling that we were going up a lot more than down, we managed to cover 50km before lunch. Thang told us that we had another 20km to go before we hit the mountain pass. Fortunately the weather had cooled down (it was actually a bit drizzly); unfortunately Thang lied! The pass wasn't 15km, it was actually 20km! And it didn't start in 20km, it started straightaway! (Good thing for him I couldn't catch him ...)

It was tough. All I can say is thank God for the rain. Most of the climb was a 10% incline (per the road signs) and, although there were a couple of short downhill sections, it took everything in me to get myself to the top. I came close to stopping and throwing the bike over the rail so many times. It wasn't so much my legs or my lungs ... it was my fanny! After only a half-day in the saddle I was in serious discomfort, and we were well into Day 4! And climbing just made it worse. But I managed to ignore it -- or, at least, ignore it enough -- to drag myself to the top. And it took me only 1:30.

I had assumed (because Thang had told us so) that once we got to the top we'd have a nice long ride down and then we'd be done. But after getting to the top and plying us with mangoes, Thang (the liar!) tells us that we still have another 40km to go and, by the way, there's another (albeit smaller) hill and a long flat. Wha?!?

So off we went. Took us far too long to hit our well-deserved downhill, but once we did .... Oh man, it was fantastic! Picture it ... we were surrounded by lush green mist-shrouded mountains; the rain was pelting us; mud was flying in our faces; the wind was whistling past our ears; our rain jackets were flapping; and we were just flying down this winding mountain pass. It was such an unbelievable rush.

Day 5 (June 24) - Kham Duc to Hoi An
total time on bike: 4:35
total distance covered: 80km
Our last day. And boy did we go out with a whimper ... literally, we were all practically whimpering, the road and heat and wind just beat us so bad. Although it was to be a short day -- only 80km -- it was by no means an easy one. The road was flat, flat, flat, with one nasty little hill, then flat, flat, and flat again. One thing I realized on this trip is that there are no truly flat roads. You either have flat-ups, where although it looks flat it does your head in because you're still pushing; or you have flat-downs, which are wonderful because you can actually coast for a bit and rest your legs. Today was mostly flat-ups. And the few flat-downs we had came with a nasty headwind that not only pushed you back so much that you felt like you were on a hill, but were also stiflingly hot. Despite the tough conditions -- even our usually chipper guide, Thang, was feeling the effect -- we managed to make our distance shortly after 2:00pm.

We had made it ... 466km in five days.

The end
left to right: Thang (our guide), Phuoc (our driver), Lee, and Ulrik
Although I was looking forward to a break from the bikes, I was really sad that it was over. It had been a very challenging five days; but it had also been a completely exhilarating five days. I pushed myself harder -- and accomplished so much more -- than I thought I was capable. And a lot of the credit goes to Thang; he's a fantastic guide. He knows just how much to push, and he knows when to back off. He gives enough information, but not too much information. We would recommend him without hesitation. We should also mention Phuoc, the driver of the support van. It's a pretty inglorious job, driving the support vehicle, but it was always incredibly reassuring knowing that he was somewhere not too far behind us. I don't know if I would have made it up the pass if he wasn't there. Having him there gave me the freedom to push myself harder and use up everything I had because I knew if I did, Phuoc would be right there to pick me up off the road.

Cycling in Vietnam was such a wonderful way to see the country and the people. You get to see a little slice of life as you pass by. And everyone was so friendly; from the children who would run to the road to wave and shout hello or to stick their hand out so you can slap it as you go by, to the old man on a motorbike who gave me the thumbs-up and the most encouraging smile as he drove by me making my way up a hill, to the gentle and shy smiles of the young women walking along the road. We will remember them all as part of this incredible experience.

For more photos, see our Biking the Ho Chi Minh Trail photo album.

ôi chao ôi!!!

Ulrik getting pounded by the water
With an unhealthy disregard for life and limbs (and a strong recommendation from our constantly-bumping-into travel buddies, Kelly and Angela), Lee and I joined Hardy Dalat for a day of canyoning and abseiling through waterfalls! We met up with Van (our guide), his young assistant, and Sam (an American guy) at 8:30am and, after a brief stop at a local bakery to pick up some 'supplies,' were on our way to the river.

A short drive later and we stopped amidst a horde of Vietnamese tourists at a local (and obviously very popular) park. Ignoring the masses Van led us from the carpark to a small trail, which we followed for about 20min until we came to a small rock wall (about eight metres). This is where we would learn to abseil. After being kitted up in our harnesses, we were ready to throw ourselves over the ledge ... in a controlled fashion, of course. Under Van's instruction we went down the wall slowly; we jumped down and jumped side-to-side; we even practiced hanging head-down, feet-up! We were already having a ton of fun, and this was just the practice wall!

After ensuring that we weren't going to kill ourselves, Van guided us to a much higher rock wall (about 20 meters) that overlooked a beautiful valley. We all abseiled down it in fine style. One more abseil, and a welcomed lunch by the river, and Van informed us -- by taking us into the river and splashing us! -- that from here on it was going to get very, very wet.

And wet we got! Swimming, walking, and floating through the river (including a chute down a small waterfall), we found our little group stopped by a large (25 metre) waterfall. This was our big 'test,' ... we not only had to abseil down it, we were also going down the centre were the water gushed the strongest. Is this guy on crazy pills? Before setting up the ropes, Van sent his assistant to the bottom to wait for us (and, I assume, help pull us to safety after we made it to the bottom). He accomplished this by getting his assistant to lie down in the middle of the waterfall and then let him go. He shot down the falls like it was a giant, all-natural waterslide. I don't know what health insurance costs in this country, but with these guys' attitude towards the prospect of getting old, I bet it's expensive.

Lee slowly and carefully making her way down
After all the ropes were in place, and his assistant safely at the bottom waiting for us, Van guided us down one by one. It was one of the coolest things I've ever done. Just standing in the middle (horizontally AND vertically) of the falls, surrounded by rushing water, was worth every penny we paid. Talk about a power shower.

Wet, but feeling pretty exhilirated, we walked a couple of hundred meters to our next stop, a 15 metre wall with a tranquil pool below. This looked a little too easy so we weren't surprised when Van, with a little gleam in his eyes, told us that we weren't abseiling this wall but instead jumping off it! My problem is not so much with heights (which don't really bother me), but more with the jumping off them bit. There's something unnatural about leaping off perfectly good terra-firma. After Van, Sam, and Lee had jumped (I should mention that Lee took a bit of encouraging and ultimately let herself fall more than actually jumped), and taking a few moments to consider what the after-life might be like, I finally took the plunge. With a second or so of free fall, I landed with a painful crotch and a bigger ego. (I don't have to tell anybody how close I was to shitting my pants.)

Our next, and last, test was a combination of abseiling, jumping, and being shot through a waterfall chute. Crazy stuff, but loads of fun.

Thoroughly soaked, tired, a bit bruised, and hungry we went back to town. It was one of the best, and most challenging, experiences of our trip. We would so do it again, and would highly recommend it. Thanks Van, and thanks Angela and Kelly for the recommendation!

One final note ... safety-conscious readers might be asking, "Where are the helmets?" Well, I can report that, in Vietnam, putting a hand on top of your head counts as the same thing.

(Oh ... and "ôi chao ôi" is Vietnamese for "Oh my God!")

For more photos, see our Canyoning in Dalat photo album.

The Great Unwashed

We're so happy ...
After more than four months of eating on the cheap (I think we're even worse than the average budget backpacker; we usually share only one dish at a street stall which usually costs us less than C$1.00), we decided to indulge our inner 'fat tourist' and splash out on a 'fancy' dinner.

While we were in Phnom Penh, we'd come across a Ho Chi Minh City (HCMC) expat magazine called Asialife HCMC. This particular issue featured a very comprehensive review of pizzas -- ooooh, pizzzaaaa ... -- from 11 restaurants across the city. The best pizza, according to the three taste-testers was the Opera pizza from the Park Hyatt Saigon's restaurant Opera.

From the stringy cheese (courtesy of buffalo mozzarella) to the tomatoes, Italian salami and olives, the judges were unanimous -- this was one heck of a pizza. It scored top marks in almost every category. Quentin finally completed his quest for the perfect crust, Daniela liked the freshness of the ingredients and Bien "loved it." Coming from our firm judges, this is praise indeed.
Pizza Pazza article, December 2006 issue of AsiaLife HCMC

All this could be ours for only US$12. US$12?!? That's twice what we spend in an average day!

But since we have, indeed, been spending very little on food -- not just because we're cheap, but also because we tend to really like street food -- and have been for quite some time. And, since we've been very culinarily adventurous -- sticking with the local food for the most part and not falling back on Western food -- we figured we deserved both a financial as well as a Western indulgence. And what could be more Western than pizza (or maybe McDonald's but they don't have them in Vietnam)? Now we just had to get ourselves to HCMC!

The source of our happiness
More than a week after reading the article, it was finally time to indulge our pizza-tooth. Off we went in search of our 'holy grail' .... Unfortunately, being so preoccupied with the thoughts of ooey, gooey, cheesey, crispy-but-chewy pizza, and because it had been so long since we've sat down in a proper restaurant (if seating is an option, and it usually isn't, it's usually a plastic chair pulled up to a metal folding table in the centre of a sidewalk next to the belching buses, cars, and motorbikes; a 'dress-code' is a foreign concept) we neglected to give any thought as to how we were dressed. And we were dressed even more 'budget-backpacker' than normal. Because we had opted for the cheap-but-slow option at the laundry (only C$0.17 per kilo vs C$0.34!), the clothes we were wearing had seen better days ... like three days previously when we handed in all our laundry and first started wearing them! While three days of constant wear in a colder climate might not be too bad -- okay, even in a colder climate three days is pretty bad -- in a hot and polluted environment like HCMC you feel less than fresh a few minutes after leaving the relatively clean sanctuary of your guesthouse. We were literally the "great unwashed"! (Well, we had bathed at least; our standards are low, yes, but we do have them.) In addition to their questionable state of cleanliness, the items we were wearing were more suited to a gym (I was wearing my Lululemon sports top) or the beach (Ulrik was wearing boards shorts and a rash shirt -- don't forget, everything else we had was being washed) than dinner at a posh hotel.

But, not only did the staff of the very swank Park Hyatt Saigon not physically prevent us from sullying their immaculate and pristine environs with our presence, they actually held open the door and welcomed us in.

And fortunately, since we were eating early the restaurant had only a few patrons who, although not as casually attired as us, were by no means dressed to the nines. So we didn't stick out like sore smelly thumbs! (Besides, we joked that they probably just assumed we were old money ... you know, people who have been rich for so long that they don't care what other people think.)

We sat down to a table dressed with a starched white tablecloth, cloth napkins, and silver cutlery, and started to relax. The restaurant was so calm; we couldn't hear the traffic, we couldn't smell the exhaust fumes, and we weren't interrupted by street sellers. It was wonderful!

Deciding to splurge even more than planned, we opted for appetizers in addition to the pizza. Ulrik had a wonderful frisée salad with walnuts, Gorgonzola cheese, and apples; I had a fantastic tuna carpaccio with freshly shaved Parmesan and lemon. And the pizza? We ended up getting a "pizza-for-two", which was US$4.00 more, topped by Italian salami, mushrooms, and Gorgonzola cheese.

The entire meal -- which I should say cost a grand total of US$38 -- was worth every penny.

For more photos, see our Vietnam photo album.

To Market, To Market ...

Floating 'Starbucks'
I have always regretted not seeing the floating markets in Bangkok when I was in Thailand in 2000-2001. Although I was determined to go this time around, everyone we met said they were over-touristed and to wait and visit the markets in the Mekong Delta as they are a much more authentic experience -- the markets function for the locals, not the tourist masses. So that is what we did.

After arriving in Can Tho, we quickly arranged a boat tour of the two largest markets in the area -- the Cai Rang floating market and the Phong Dien floating market. Our tour would also take in a rice vermicelli 'factory' and a tour of one of the local villages. All told, it would take eight hours and cost US$12 each.

We met our boat captain, who greeted us with a big grin and a bag of bananas and bread (our breakfast), bright and early at 5:00am! After getting on board his boat -- a traditional wooden fishing boat with stand-up oars (fortunately it also had an engine) -- we were on our way.

It was so peaceful floating along; the sun was just rising and the only sound was the quiet hum of the boat's small engine. Upon arriving at the first floating market (Cai Rang), we were greeted by the 'Starbucks' boat. Ten thousand dong (~C$0.66) later and we were each enjoying a cup of the local java (liberally spiked with sweetened condensed milk, of course).

A pineapple seller at the floating market
The market is quite an experience. It's very busy, with boats jostling for space. Most were like the boat we were on, only instead of carrying two 'fat' tourists, they were loaded to the brim with the local produce. Each boat 'advertised' its wares by tying a sample to a flagpole of sorts, so from a distance you can easily see who has the pineapples or turnips or beets or Asian greens. Once you decide what you want, you pull your boat alongside, inspect the goods, make your selection, have it weighed on a small scale, haggle over the price, come to a deal, exchange money for goods, and move on to the next item on your grocery list. It's a shame we don't have markets like this in Canada -- grocery shopping would be so much more fun!

Our next stop was a tour of a rice noodle 'factory' and the surrounding local village. It was really interesting seeing how they transform rice grains into rice noodles. The rice is first ground into a thin watery batter (similar to the batter for crepes); it's then steam-cooked over a drum-like instrument. After cooking for a few minutes it is removed to a cooling rack and the racks are laid in the sun to dry. Once the rice 'crepes' are dry, they are put through a cutting machine. Voila! Rice noodles.

A large portion of the tour was just meandering through the many small waterways that cut through the area. This was a really nice way to see the local village life in a way that's unobtrusive.

Halfway along one quiet canal, our boat captain turned off the engine. We didn't think anything of it -- he periodically cut the engine to clear debris the small propeller got entangled with -- but then we noticed that his little propeller hadn't picked up anything; on the contrary, it had lost something ... as in one of its two blades! The boat captain didn't seem at all concerned -- we quickly relaxed as well -- and, with a smile still on his face, immediately started rooting around in his tool box. He pulled out a spare propeller, a wrench, and a small hatchet, and quickly set to work. Bracing the broken prop with the wrench, he whacked the remaining blade with the hatchet. Unfortunately, rather than loosening the prop for removal, the first whack resulted in the other blade flying off. He stopped smiling after that and started looking very serious; now he didn't have anything to leverage against to remove the prop. We, on the other hand, weren't at all worried. We were in a small canal quite far from where we started, yes, but we could hear there was a road running alongside the canal, and the water, although dirty looking, was slow moving and was not very deep. After trying a few different things -- with Ulrik trying to help -- he paddled us to a nearby landing where another man jumped aboard with his hatchet. (While in Canada, if something is broken you hit it or whack it; in Vietnam you take a hatchet to it!). Together, along with their hatchets, they were able to remove the broken prop and replace it with the spare. We were back on our way!

We visited a second smaller floating market (Phong Dien) and floated through more quiet canals, with our boat captain feeding us watermelon along the way, before arriving back at our starting point. Although a bit long, it had been an enjoyable tour. Our boat captain was the highlight though. Although he didn't speak much, he was so friendly and genuine.

For more photos, see our Floating Markets photo album.

Up the mountain, down the mountain ...

Enjoying the view
After crossing the Cambodia/Vietnam border, we arrived in a small town called Chau Doc. As we were already 10 days into our 30-day visa (long story) we had only one morning available to us to explore the city; we decided to use it to walk to the top of the nearby Sam Mountain.

The 237-metre-tall Sam Mountain is located six kilometres from the city centre, and is considered an important site to the local population. It has a paved road that goes right to the summit but we, of course, wanted an extra challenge and instead walked up to the summit using a small foot path. To stretch our legs even more, and to save a few bucks, we also decided to forgo motorized transport and walked the six kilometres to and from the mountain's base. Yes ... we are that cheap!

This meant that we had to get a very early start so we would be back in town for our afternoon bus to Can Tho, our next destination. Hence, breakfast was had on the street (a tasty rice noodle soup) at 6:00am. The walk to the mountain wasn't the most exciting, but it was good to stretch our legs after being stuck on a bus and boat for more than eight hours the previous day (to cross the Cambodia/Vietnam border), and a lot of people smiled, waved, and shouted hellos to us along the way.

The walk to the mountain's base took about an hour, and arriving was like walking into a fair ground. There were people milling about everywhere, and stalls selling anything you might think you needed (and a few that you didn't!). Cutting a quick path through the crowds, we located a small trail that meandered through a temple and a grave yard. The path turned out to be very well maintained with concrete steps most of the way to the top. But if we thought we were taking the 'path less travelled,' we were completely wrong. Although there weren't a lot of people (I think because of the time of day), the path was lined with numerous restaurants selling cold drinks, facecloths, and even offering hammocks, for all those weary travelers passing by!

When, after climbing for about 45min, we finally reached the top, we were rewarded with fantastic views of both Vietnam and Cambodia. We were also greeted by the throngs of other 'climbers' who had opted for the aircon buses. Bastards!

Ulrik the superstar!
After about 5min of enjoying the spectacular views and catching our breaths, we were approached by a small group of young ladies who asked if they could get their photo taken with us. Of course we were happy to help, but before we realized it a whole line had formed of people who also wanted a holiday picture with the tall, blond foreigner! Lee was a bit sidelined, and she later said that she now knew what it must feel like to be nobody wife of a celebrity. I think someone was perhaps a little jealous ...?

Realizing there was a serious possibility of getting stuck for a long time (the professional holiday photographers -- always with an eye for a profit-making opportunity -- were actively working the crowd to get more photos), we did a few more and then, during a lull, turned tail and headed back down the mountain.

What goes up ...
The going down proved far easier then going up, although the number of people walking against us had increased. Some were even carrying heavy loads of food, drinks, blocks of ice, and tired children. At least with our small daypack we couldn't complain too much. Straight down the mountain we went, and headed directly back to town. After arriving back at our guesthouse, a sweaty hour-and-a-half later, we rewarded ourselves with a big bottle of ice-cold water and a lunch of fried rice, then settled in to wait for our bus to Can Tho.

For more photos, see our Vietnam photo album.