Thursday, June 24, 2010

Don't Let the Sun go Down on Me

Disclaimer - Ok so I was hoping to finish this before going to Beijing because I knew that I would have limited access here, but I went out and partied instead so I am publishing now. I figure none of you really care about time-line accuracy all that much anyway as long as the stories keep coming so I am just going to publish it as is...

Wow! The trip is rapidly coming to a close. Justin and i leave Vietnam tomorrow for Beijing for ten days or so, before going our separate ways and eventually arriving home in Toronto. Justin by way of Berlin, Zurich, and Frankfurt. In what is sure to be the longest two days ever! And me in the opposite direction via Tokyo and San Francisco. By far the saner route. I am super excited because I planned an extra ten days in SF to get reacquainted with my old stomping ground. But perhaps most excitingly I am going to do a four day hiking/camping trip in Yosemite, while I am by the Bay.

Why am i telling you all this now? Well this will likely be my last blog post until I get back from Yosemite and I don't want to have to re-tell or apologize about it then. I am lazy! As most of you probably know Google and China have broken up so I wont be able to access my email or blog while I am there. China also doesn't get along with Facebook much so we are going to be pretty off grid, which we be interesting I am sure.

Alright now that everyone knows what my I will be doing for the next three weeks and can breathe a deep sigh of relief, let's focus in on what we have been doing for the last two weeks here in northern Vietnam.

From Nha Trang we took a hilarious overnight bus to Hoi An. Thank God Justin is so fussy* because we got perhaps the worst possible sleeper compartments, at the back. But Justin wasn't havin' it and bitched until we got moved to more civilized single sleeper seats closer to the front. To be fair he is about two feet taller than the next tallest Vietnamese traveler. I was never so grateful. On that bus ride I also severed all ties to my American-ness, at least when talking with locals. That is until last night when the USA's stunning World Cup performance forced me out of the proverbial American closet. Just couldn't help but shout my nationalism from the top of the crowd surf at Finnigan's. But wait I am getting ahead of myself...

We got into Hoi An about mid-morning. And by mid-morning I now mean 9 am, because Justin and I are getting very used to 5 am arrivals and wake-ups. After settling in at our hotel, perhaps our favourite of the trip the Hotel An Phu. We went to explore the picturesque old town of Hoi An.

Hoi An is famous as a shoppers paradise, but I hadn't figured on buying much there. Why? Don't ask me I am clearly delusional. Everything there is tailor made, including the shoes. And I knew once I had ordered my 13th pair of custom made shoes that Hoi An was going to be trouble for me and my budget.

And indeed it proved to be. In addition to having two suits made I got several collared shirts, three pairs of shorts, three additional jackets, several dresses and a new rain coat. Basically a new wardrobe. Why? Because I am worth it! And clearly a bit insane. We were having a great time wandering around town everyday and shopping, going to our tailors appointments and eating the best and cheapest pho anywhere in Vietnam. We even managed to fit in an afternoon bike ride to the local beach one day. But our great time was brought to a screeching halt when we were violently and verbally assaulted by two small shop keeper ladies at the Blue Rose tailor's shop.

We had ordered the bulk of our fashions from these two feisty, pushy gals and had been having some trouble with them over the last few days with regard to alterations. Most of my stuff had turned out pretty good and the girl helping me, let's call her Cindy Lou, was pretty good about agreeing to alter the few items that were not perfect. But it took some definitely diplomacy to get my stuff exactly the way i wanted it. I think my year at Fashion Crimes definitely helped steer me clear of any major conflict. Justin on the other hand was having nothing but trouble getting his shop girl, let's call her The Fire Breather, to make even the most basic of changes to his suit and two pairs of shorts. The suit, a beautiful navy blue herringbone, was almost there but the shorts kept coming back looking worse and worse.

Finally, the day before we were leaving we went back to see the final alterations on the shorts. Unfortunately they weren't ready at our appointment time and the girls asked us to come back in an hour. No problem we had plenty of other appointments that afternoon, including going to pick up my 13 pairs of shoes!!!!! So we agreed to come back an hour later. Well they still weren't ready an hour later, or even in fact two hours later.

Eventually we had run all of our other errands and we were anxious to get all of our stuff from Blue Rose so that we could get to the post office and ship everything before we left the following evening. When we showed up at the shop again the girls were busy helping fit a group of three American guys for suits they were thinking of ordering. The ladies were noticeably more friendly with us now that these other customers were present, which both Justin and I noted since over the last two days they had gotten progressively more surly and short with us.

I suppose it hadn't helped that Justin had been involved in a minor altercation when he asked if he could take one of their magazines to the shoe cobbler and show them a photo of a pair of Derby's he was hoping to have made. The Fire Breather was very hesitant but eventually had acquiesced. Unfortunately the cobbler had been keen to keep the picture and she cut it out of the magazine. When he returned the missing photo did not go unnoticed and the FB was furious. Justin was obviously embarrassed about the incident and had tried to make it up to the FB by bringing her a new Vogue that I had picked up in Bangkok. But she was not to be assuaged I suppose.

So on the night in question, when we turned up for the third time and the girl's asked if we could come back in another half hour, I had had it and said that if the shorts were in transit, as they promised, then we would just wait. In the meantime I paid for the remainder of my items and had them packed up. Shortly there after the shorts and Justin's suit arrived. Well actually the suit had been there the whole time and was conveniently located on the floor in a dusty heap. He went into the dressing room hoping for the best but it was not to be.

After so many alterations the shorts were horrible. They looked frankly awful, and while it was a bit sad neither of us could help but laugh at the hopelessness of them. Justin announced that he wasn't going to take the shorts. Unfortunately one of the American guys was at that very moment haggling with the Fire Breather about the price of his potential order. After seeing Justin's displeasure and not being able to get the FB to come down to a price he was willing to pay he balked and decided he needed a night to think about it. And so they left.We were promptly blamed for the failed sale.

Justin was by now wearing the suit and checking to see if any of the alterations he had requested there had been made. None had unfortunately. But the Fire Breather was in no mood, and her simmering blood quickly spilled over into a boil when Justin suggested that perhaps they should return his deposit and he would leave with nothing. The FB sprang at him like a wild cat, charging with an enormous pair of shears. She threatened to hack the suit from end to end with Justin still in it. And refused to consider returning his deposit. She then sprang at me grabbing my other purchases, including the SHOES and threw them into the back of the shop, which led into the house. What ensued was a confused, terrifying, and frankly outrageously funny but tense negotiation. At one point I made a play for my belongings and was tackled into the staff washroom and locked in, in the dark.

Eventually Cindy Lou, who had played a supporting, but equally as aggressive role in the standoff, and Justin managed to ink out a deal in which Justin would pay for the suit and they would return me and my belongings. Frankly he didn't have much choice. We left a bit stunned and with a distinctly bitter taste in our mouths. In the end it worked out though because Justin found a lovely gay gentleman at a neighboring show who offered to make the shorts and some final alterations to the suit for a good price.

We also managed to put the whole thing well behind us after we met Randy the ex-pat American who runs a local used bookshop, and on his advice had the best dinner of the trip, possibly of life at the Mango Rooms. We really splashed out, which was frankly still pretty reasonable. But, we bought a 50$ bottle of wine, a 2004 Pinot Noir from the Russian River Valley. And we ordered the chef's special tasting menus. It was divine. Prawn tempura and crispy scallops. Delicious duck with a chocolate sauce, and seared tuna. Mangoes with sticky sweet condensed milk. I could go on but I don't want you to be too jealous.

We left Hoi An the next evening for our final overnight bus ride, thank God, and headed for the big bad city of Hanoi. We arrived the next day exhausted and of course sweating uncontrollably. Thankfully we knew where we were headed and so we didn't have to do the usual thumb up our ass dance while we attempt to find accommodation. Instead we went straight to the Hanoi Backpackers Hostel. We weren't planning on staying there, obv. I mean dorms come on people, who do we look like? But we knew that was THE place to get advice and a few of our friends from Vang Vieng were working there as tour guides. We ended up staying at the aptly named Lucky Hotel down the street, but not for long. We booked an overnight train trip for the next night to Sapa. But first we had to get our Visas at the Chinese Embassy. Big mistake.

The Chinese guard took one look at Justin and me, in our short,s and flat out refused to let us in the embassy. He eventually handed us a bullshit list of pre-conditions on which he might let us. But the list was so long and filled with ridiculous things like having a photocopy of our health and travel insurance translated in Chinese. Health and travel insurance, what's that? Or having a letter from each of our embassies declaring that we are in fact who our passports say we are, also in Chinese. Um isn't that what the passport is for? Anyway we figured out pretty quick that we were going no where fast. So instead we went back to to Hostel and arranged to hire a local agent to go and process our Visas for us. It probably cost us twice as much and definitely took twice as long, but it was money and time well spent. By they way my Visa cost twice as much as Justin's, what's that all about eh?But at least we got them and we could still make our train to Sapa.

Sapa is a stunningly beautiful mountain town, reminiscent of Switzerland. Well as reminiscent of Switzerland as you can get in Northern Vietnam, but it was gorgeous nonetheless. We spent two relaxing and more importantly cool days wandering around town, taking a swan peddle boat,( totally a highlight) and going hiking to see some of the nearby villages. It was so lovely to wake up and see the valley and surrounding mountains out our window, and smell the freshly cut wood. We also ate some delicious meals at the Sapa Boutique Hotel. But before we knew it we were heading back to Hanoi for the Halong Bay 2 night, 3 day booze cruise.

Originally we weren't sure we could afford to do the Hanoi Backpackers legendary booze cruise, the appropriately named Rock Long Rock Hard Halong Bay tour. But I convinced Justin that we could not go to Beijing and spent two weeks with my family without having one last party in Vietnam. As far as the tour goes there isn't really much to report, well more accurately there isn't much to remember. Highlights included: one very naked drinking game, rock climbing, Justin playing an epic game of volleyball against the local Vietnamese, for beer. His team lost, but he was definitely team M.V.P. Skinny dipping with the phosphorescent plankton. O yea and sex on the barge. Not Justin or me of course. It must have been some other hooker. We were supposed to go wake bordering but there was something about a broken boat, i kinda missed it because I was too busy buying beer.

We came back to Hanoi incredibly hungover, Justin, and incredibly drunk, me, and decided we needed one last hurrah with all of our tour buddies. It was epic. I think we ended up as some place called Hair of the Dog, but I can't be sure. The next day was a definite recovery day, and in fact we spent our last three days in varying stages of recovery. Except for one night out to see both England and America kick ass. But recovery generally included lots of movies. Yea Sex and City II, and lots of internet(ing) in air conditioning. We are sooo cultural.

Our last night in town Justin thought it would be wise if we got a good night's sleep, which would have been wise, but I had other plans. So i went out on the lash, came home at 4am. Somehow I managed to through all, or most, of my stuff into my backpack and took a quick (snoreless) snooze before our cab arrived at 5am... and here we are heading to the Peep's Republic.

Now I don't want to give too much away, but since I am finishing this a few days late I will give a postscript update and tell you all that I got a little belliges at the airport when security told me I couldn't bring my new Swiss army knife and fork set as a carry-on. To demonstrate that my knife posed no serious threat to anyone, because it was dull as shit, I whipped it out and dramatically slashed at my arm several times. Well the North Vietnamese airport guards were definitely caught off guard, but they are pros at dealing with wild Americans with knifes so they just got all Viet Con on me and made several violent stabbing gestures with the knife, which I presumed meant, "listen lady you might not be able to cut yourself with this but you could still jab it into someone if you tried hard enough, trust us." And confiscated it. And on that note love you all and see you on the flip side...

*Let the record reflect that Justin's "fussiness"s is a view expressed solely by the author in relation to a specific event, and is in no way intended as a general description. I believe he would prefer the word particular

1 comment:

Anonymous said...

You very deftly worked in "Because I'm worth it"! Not easy to do! Bravo!