8 itchy feet

Angkor observations

Published on March 11, 2016 by 8itchyfeet4 Comments

Angkor Wat. Long has it loomed in our imaginations and as our tuk tuk circled the entrance I whispered in Emma’s ear that I couldn’t really believe we were here. It was one of those moments where I become acutely aware of time. A place like this fires the imagination and motivates you to get out and see the world. It’s the sort of place that inspired us to stop work for 12 months and pack up our lives into a shipping container and a few backpacks. And there we were, looking at it. Briefly. So long in the imagination, how quickly the visit goes.

Many of you have probably been to Angkor yourselves or will have seen documentaries about it. So you don’t need me to tell you it is a wonder of the ancient world worthy of the title ‘wonder’. It is a monumentally large collection of stones; each, as far as we could tell, individually crafted to fit seamlessly next to the ones that surround it to produce a building that is hugely impressive.

I have come to think of Angkor Wat itself as a monument to the equally monumental insecurity complex of King Jayavarman VII. Jayavarman VII, you see, came to power by dubious means; murdering his uncle the rightful king to seize power at the tender age of 14.

Knocking off your uncle to become King however doesn’t tend to inspire others to keep following you for long and so the young Jayavarman needed a way sure up his reign. Of course the best way to do this is to have your minions build something so big and impressive that your god-like status becomes unquestionable. It worked and 800 years later here we are ‘oohing’ and ‘aahing’ along with a couple of thousand others as we crawl all over the legacy of Jayavarman VII’s ambition and insecurity.

When I feel insecure I mostly tell myself to ‘suck it up’ and get on with it or dump my worries on Emma who tells me ‘she’ll be right, we’ll work it out’. Maybe it’d be better if I built something. Well not me of course, but my minions. No, wait. I don’t have any minions. ‘Suck it up’ is better.

Where was I…

Oh yes, ‘oohing’ and ‘aahing’. Emma and I were ‘oohing’ and ‘aahing’, along with our new friends Andrea and Peter from Canada. We really have met some wonderful people on this trip. Amy and Oliver along with Andrea and Peter’s kids Sydney and Tobin were melting and dare I say it, moaning. Not that I hold that against them. Siem Reap is really hot. It was 37 degrees as we explored today’s temple and this place may have fired mine and Emma’s imaginations, but that makes it our dream, not theirs.

We towed Amy and Oliver through the temples like they were our minions (maybe I do have some after all) doing our best to explain why it was all so great. Before we arrived we had all watched a few documentaries about Angkor and so I think they got it to a certain degree. Despite our best efforts however I suspect that from their perspective one stone pile soon began to look much like the next especially as they felt like they were slowly roasting in an oven on low heat.

Oliver and Tobin found a shady spot to ‘play’

On another family’s travel blog we recently read what one of their children reflected in his journal about his experience of Angkor Wat:

“Mom took us to see an impressive, large, ancient, temple ruin filled with exquisite stone carvings… and then, she took us to see five more.”.

That probably about sums it up for Amy and Oliver I think. The same family said if they made a movie of their visit it would be titled, ‘Angkor Wat and the search for shade’.

We caught our first glimpse of Angkor at around 11.00 am on the day after we arrived. Andrea and Peter had arranged a tuk tuk driver and we figured we would grab another and follow along. Of course arriving at this time is completely the wrong thing to do. According to the Siem Reap, Angkor Visitors Guide:

‘The visual impact of Angkor Wat, particularly on one’s first visit, is awesome. To maximize this effect you should make your first visit in optimal lighting conditions, after 2.00pm when the sun is on the face of the temple. Do not make your first visit to Angkor Wat in the morning when the backlighting obscures the view.’

Yep backlighting is a problem. It ruins the photo and photos after all are why we come – right?

If you were a visitor from outer space observing the scene you could reasonably discern that touring Angkor is not permissible unless accompanied by some form of photographic device. They’re everywhere; looped around wrists, hanging around necks, go-pro strapped to heads and phones strapped to selfie sticks.

Some of the eager photographers just after sunrise

If you can permit a small diversion from the story, back in Bangkok we were squeezed into a minibus like sardines on one occasion and couldn’t help but look over the shoulder of the lady in front of us as she reviewed the photos on her phone. She went through what surely must have been more than a hundred selfies in front of various attractions. There wasn’t one in which she did not feature.

It is astounding the extent to which Angkor and all the surrounding temples are photographed. Equally astounding can be the behavior of people in search of a photo. Just today, Amy and I were happily looking over a parapet at a fallen tower of Jayavarman, taking in the crumbled piles of moss covered stones within the still standing skeleton of a once huge temple when we were tapped on the shoulder and asked to step aside.

‘What for?’, I asked in a disgruntled tone of voice.

‘Photo’, the man replied gesturing towards his camera as the obvious reason why it was important that Amy and I instantly move out of the way to make room for his significant other to stand where we were. I confess to being annoyed, though Emma quickly counselled me not to let it ruin my day.

Waiting for the ‘photo spot’ at Ta Prohm Temple (of Tomb Raider fame)

It was indicative of the extent to which cameras dominate so many peoples experience, including ours. I confess to being snap happy too, though I try as much as possible to point the camera at the scenery rather than myself or even Emma, Amy or Oliver. If touring ‘five more temples’ in the baking heat after the first ‘really cool’ one isn’t enough to try your patience, then being asked to smile or turn so you face the other way while someone else points a camera at you certainly will.

Nobody ends up happy. The photographer is frustrated by an un-cooperative subject while the subject is frustrated at being used as a prop to enhance the scene. It’s not really as bad as that may make it sound, it just plays out as an unspoken tension simmering below the surface of everything else that is going on as part of your visit right at that moment.

The problem with cameras is that after a while you start to look at everything for its photographic potential, or as illustrated above, just being rude because the photo is more important than being polite. A photographic mindset undoubtedly distracts you from being present, while you are present, in this place that you have wanted to see for so long.

At one point during our visit Amy made a comment to me, the exact wording of which I cannot remember, but to the effect of, ‘all you do is take photos’. It was said in the disgruntled voice of an 11-year-old who thought the first temple was ‘really cool’ but then had to look at five more and who would really rather have been in the pool back at the hotel because it was 35+ degrees.

Her comment made me question what impact my snap happy ways was having on our overall experience. Do I really want the lasting impression I leave from this trip to be ‘my dad was busy taking photos’? Would I be better off focusing my attention on our collective experience of the place and might this in fact have helped others to have enjoyed it more? I couldn’t help but wonder. After Amy’s comment I stowed the camera and started kidding around with Oliver, bouncing him on my back and pretending to be an elephant. This undoubtedly helped lift his experience for a while.

We like taking nice photos and we do use them to share on this blog. I know we have also looked back fondly at the photos from our previous travels from time to time, so they are not a wasted effort in that sense. Still there has to be a happy medium and Angkor Wat has made me think I need to reign it in at least a little bit – it’s not all about the photo and backlighting shouldn’t be allowed to diminish the experience.

One of the many amazing carvings depicting Hindu mythology

So on our last day of visiting the temples I didn’t take a single shot, an over reaction for sure. We took a drive through the Cambodian country side to a temple called Beng Mealea. It’s about an hour and half away from the main complex of Angkor. Emma, admittedly, seized the chance to be photographer for the day, but in a more genteel and subtle way perhaps than I. It was here that Amy and I were interrupted from our non-photo minded observations by the photo hungry hordes.

I don’t know if the lack of photography had anything to do with it but this temple was probably everyone’s favourite. It was more wild than the others and there was more opportunity to scramble over rocks and climb vines, so that no doubt also played a part.

Taking time out from being photographer at Beng Mealea

There is however nothing better than a pool and we did only visit Angkor every second day which ensured Amy and Oliver had plenty of time playing with their friends. In fact, thanks to Andrea and Peter, Emma and I actually got to spend 4 hours looking at Angkor on our own while Amy and Oliver played back at the hotel.

Amy and Sydney spent most of their time in the pool while Oliver and Tobin bonded over games on my phone. Not ideal perhaps but they were having so much fun. Unfortunately, the pool did nasty things to the girls hair. I’m pretty sure Cambodia does not apply Australian pool chemical standards and we were going through a bottle of conditioner a day for a while, trying to repair the damage.

At least we had a pool though. Chatting with our driver on the way to the Beng Mealea temple was something of an eye opener. Cambodia may once have been the centre of a vast and wealthy empire overseeing the better part of south east Asia, but that of course is not its lot today. Peiron (our driver) dropped us at the gate of our hotel after the day out and looked on almost wistfully as we disappeared to get into our swimmers. ‘Very hot’, he had earlier told us, ‘Cambodians no have pools’.

Siem Reap exists today to service fly in fly out tourists visiting Angkor. It and our hotel is a world apart from the real Cambodia we caught only a glimpse of through the window of our air-conditioned car. Alas we are out of time to see more. On the positive side we did enjoy the Phare Circus one evening. The circus is part of a social enterprise formed after the fall of the Khmer Rouge. As the website says:

“… formed 20 years ago by 9 children and their art teacher when they returned home from a refugee camp after the fall of the Khmer Rouge. As survivors of the war, empowered by the creative self-expression learned through their art-making, the group wanted to share this gift of the arts with the underprivileged children of Battambang. They founded an art school and a public school quickly followed to offer free education. A music school and theatre school were next, and finally, the circus school. Today more than 1,200 pupils attend the public school daily and 500 attend the alternative schools.”

The Pol Pot – Khmer Rouge era and its horrors have not been a major feature of this visit for us. We got closest through the personal recollections of another wonderful driver (Mr Khorn) who told us something of his personal experiences as a young boy, including villagers being tricked out to welcome back the king only to be mown down by guns.

This evening we are off to Bangkok for a night before we leave SE Asia. Our minions have caught up on another dose of school work today and are now building a cubby house in the cupboard of our hotel room.

Enjoy the photos!

A holiday in Hoi An

Published on March 6, 2016March 7, 2016 by 8itchyfeet2 Comments

I don’t know what to tell you about Hoi An. There is no single story I can think of that would wind a path between all the various sights and sounds. What I can say is that we came to Hoi An for a holiday from our holiday. Globetrotting, we are discovering, can be something of a whirl wind and wonderful though it all is, finding new places to eat every three days can be hard work. No, we don’t expect sympathy!

Hoi An had all the requisite properties for a place to linger, including a beach and an ancient world heritage listed town that pops up on almost every list of South East Asia ‘must sees’. An Bang beach, is by all accounts, one of Vietnam’s finest. It was nice, warm water with good surf and nice soft sand. It is possible however that Australians are well spoilt when it comes to beaches. It was also endlessly long. Well, in one direction anyway.

About two kilometres south of where we were (at An Bang) the beach has totally eroded away. Nothing left. Which is unfortunate for the many many grand resorts built there, now with concrete walls and sandbags holding back the sea. I couldn’t get to the bottom of the disappearing sand. It may have been the resorts too vigorously protecting their patch by building groins out into the surf; natural processes; or rising sea levels due to climate change (as speculated by our hosts).

Slowing down was a new experience in this globetrotting caper. In Hanoi, we had lingered on street corners and watched traffic instead of dodging it. Similarly, one afternoon in the Hoi An old town, instead of walking the streets we sat (and ate icecream) and watched how others do the walking. Watching just one intersection proved as interesting in its own way as seeing many.

You could ‘do’ Hoi An in three days and have ticked off most of the sights, but in staying for 11 days we discovered there was much more to take in as we covered the same ground we did the day before. Still, before we knew it, it was time to move on.

We spent the first two days on the beach. The sky was sunny, the air was warm and the sea was cool but not cold. It was rough and wild though and Amy had many discussions with us about how to spot and avoid a rip. She took this very seriously. We think she probably recalled the story of her friend Cassandra and her mum getting caught in one back home.

Lunch delivered to the beach – we should start this in Australia!

The next eight days were cloudy and overcast. Every morning we’d wake up and look outside then look up the weather forecast hopeful the sun might shine, but it wasn’t to be. Which, on the upside, meant we spent much more time exploring.

What the beach looked like for the rest of our stay

Each morning’s hearty breakfast (during which I discovered for the first time in my life the joys of Nutella) was followed by a morning of school work. Here I think we are making progress, both as students and teachers. It has taken some time, but there now seems to be a clearer understanding that school work is not an optional extra this year. It will be done! Journals will be written, spelling words will be learned, projects will be completed and Maths and English will be studied. What’s more it will be done with good humour, diligent effort and focus.

Currency calculation school with millions of Vietnamese Dong

We’re not fully there yet, but as I say, I do think we are making progress. It’s hard for Emma and I to play the role of teacher and enforcer of rules on the one hand and comforter and supporter on the other. Probably also hard for Amy and Oliver to see us taking on this strange new role. We have passed through a phase in which I have been chastised by Amy and Oliver for being way too serious. Even Emma I gather was a little confronted by my serious side. Oliver says I am even stricter than Carol (his real teacher) and we know Carol doesn’t take any nonsense.

Back in Laos, while at the Elephant Conservation Centre, Emma and I sent Amy and Oliver off to do some school work in the huts one afternoon while we stayed in the restaurant. We thought some space from us might be productive while they worked. Not long after, giggling greeted out ears and we somewhat reluctantly went to check on progress. We found them both kicking back in the hammocks suspended above the veranda. A hand written note on the door to their room indicated that they were on strike and would do no more school work until they were paid some respect or we could take it up with their union!

I’m not sure Emma or I knew quite how to respond. I think school work was done that day, but I’m not sure. I later recalled a lengthy and involved discussion I had with Amy and Oliver all about unions, management and striking work forces some time back. The information obviously goes in, so they must be learning something.

The best learning seems to take place as they are about to go to sleep. I have found myself in many in depth discussions with them at this time on everything from the sound barrier and why it breaks, to the relative merits of monarchies and democracies. They are thoroughly enjoyable discussions with genuine engaged interest leading to question after question until eventually you just have to say, ‘enough, it’s time to go to sleep’.

But I digress. With schoolwork done we tended to hit the bikes. I’m convinced there is only one bicycle manufacturer in Vietnam. All of the push bikes appear to come in one size and conform to the same functional design. They also have one very comfortable gear which ensures you go neither too fast to work up a sweat, nor to slow to feel you might as well be walking.

Out the front gate of our homestay, every journey began by running the gauntlet of five or so family run restaurants touting for business. The owners of each empty establishment would leap to their feet to solicit you in. It became a little awkward and after a few days we started deviating around the block so as not to disappoint them. There were too many good places to eat and we had our favourites.

At the end of our street was a thin bit of asphalt across an open area which looked like a cyclone had torn through. Turns out it is just the site of yet another massive resort to be built along this stretch of beach. The surface here was covered in thick sand with just one narrow navigable path. Emma tells me Amy and Oliver had expressed their surprise that I had not been down there yet to sweep all the sand away. Those who know my slightly obsessive compulsive tidy streak may find this amusing. I simply replied, ‘never let it be said I did not spend enough time with my children that they didn’t know me’!

Across the bridge along the main road from our beach stay to Hoi An itself was one of the most impressive sights I was not expecting to see in Vietnam. The vegetable village. I loved it. Couldn’t get enough. I’m a sucker for the colours of this magnificent planet and a Vietnamese vegetable village turns on quite a show. Vibrant shades of green of so many different vegies all laid out in immaculately neat and perfectly maintained garden beds surrounded on all sides by slightly ramshackle terrace house like dwellings. It was gorgeous. I took way too many photos.

Out of the vegetable village the 30-minute ride to town continued along concrete paths through the rice paddies. Water buffalo graze, water birds forage and the wind ripples across the verdant green fields. It all feels very oriental when you throw in the odd farmer working the area with their conical Vietnamese broad brim hats.

Out of the rice paddies were a few blocks of traffic madness. Manageable madness unlike Hanoi. In fact, it is a mark of our progress together as a travelling family that we managed, by and large, to ride along quite happily and relaxed in conditions that by Australian standards we would never let Amy and Oliver near.

The traffic would subside as we reached Hoi An old town. No cars or scooters allowed for the most part. Another UNESCO world heritage city, this place also has a really nice vibe. Especially on our first night, when we just happened to arrive in time for the full moon festival. All the electric lights where replaced with traditional lanterns hanging across the streets and in every shop, restaurant, bar and hotel – even drifting down the river in thick fleets.

The Hoi An full moon festival was surpassed, for me at least, only by one other day in which I caught myself shaking my head and saying, this wouldn’t happen at home. We met another family that Emma had found on a travelling family’s forum and before long, there we were, playing bike ‘tips’ in a clapped out run down park with a Russian, her Israeli husband, and their kids from the US.

Round and round we went until Oliver and the Israeli dad made one close pass too many. Down they all went, but the only casualty appeared to be the back wheel of the opposing team’s bike which was now badly buckled. Oops.

We all retired for coffee, but no coffee was to be found. Instead Oliver and his new US friend somehow injected themselves into a game of soccer with four Vietnamese local kids on an odd shaped uneven patch of patchy grass surrounded by streets. An hour and a half of vigorous competition followed. This was Oliver heaven. I don’t think he stopped grinning the whole game, despite being comprehensively out played. These kids had some skills.

The game ended when a city official unceremoniously walked past picked up the ball and walked off. That was the end of that. I didn’t know whether to chase after him and demand he give it back or jump on our bikes and ride off before some other official arrived to arrest us for playing in the wrong spot. Húng, our homestay host, tells us the Vietnamese government is top 10 in the world for corruption so who knows how it all works. The street light outside Húng’s homestay doesn’t work. He also tells us its because the officials there are still waiting for their money!

On the ride back from town each day, or to dinner each evening, I kept peering in at a funky hair salon and contemplating a haircut. Should I or shouldn’t I. I’m not sure this long hair thing is for me, but I can’t quite bring myself to give it up. Maybe just a trim. The funky hair salon was a corrugated tin shed with a rustic looking chair and a friendly looking Vietnamese man. I think partly I just liked the idea of getting a haircut there, for the fun of it. I finally stopped dithering one afternoon – but the man wasn’t there. Guess guess my hair will just get a little longer.

Dinner each evening was always a pleasure. Vietnamese food is easy to love and easy on the wallet. Our favourite restaurant, after a good deal of sampling was the Tamarind Tree. It may have been the food or the people I’m not sure, but probably both. On our last night we all got hugs from the owner. There was almost tears!

Parking at Cay Me Tamarind Tree – our fave

Each evening, and sometimes at lunch time too, we’d order our meal then whip out the cards and head into another game of Euchre, our new favourite game. It was boys versus girls all week and although Oliver and I got off to an okay start, we soon found ourselves being comprehensively beaten, trick after trick after trick. It went way beyond luck and I was starting to feel somewhat paranoid. Oliver kept bolstering my spirits by refusing to change teams, telling ‘it’s ok Boo I have faith!’ We finally redeemed ourselves on the second last night… but still lost by one trick in the last round!

The morning of our departure the sun shone full and bright. So it goes. We skipped school to sneak in a final morning at the beach, likely our last for some time. We bid Húng and his lovely family farewell and headed for the airport in a loud taxi with a young driver with a thing for power ballads. Cambodia and the temples of Angkor Wat are calling us on.

Halong Bay – I’d do it again

Published on February 29, 2016February 29, 2016 by 8itchyfeet5 Comments

I don’t like spending money. It doesn’t come naturally and it makes me uncomfortable. I like saving. I like socking money away each fortnight and the feeling of opportunity that comes as the bundle grows. Ironically one of the reasons I like saving, is so that we can do most excellent things, like travel the world for example. Here we are however, travelling the world, and I’m still not entirely comfortable opening my wallet.

But I am getting better at it. Two months into this trip and its starting to dawn on me that this is a pretty special thing we are doing – worth the money. Experiences and time, surely these are as worthy of investment as other pursuits. Rolf Potts in Vagabonding, my favourite book on the philosophy of long term travel, says that:

‘Regardless of how long it takes to earn your freedom, remember that you are labouring for more than just a vacation. A vacation, after all merely rewards work. Vagabonding (long term travel) justifies it.’

Work, I think, has its own purpose and rewards but I take the point.

Why, I hear you ask, am I volunteering these idle thoughts? It is because our trip to Halong Bay lead me to wrestle with such matters. What do I deserve, what is responsible and what is reckless, what is affordable, what matters and why?

We didn’t travel Halong Bay in the manner one might expect from a family trying to eke out 12 months travelling the world. We travelled Halong Bay in style. Lifestyles of the rich and famous style. We decided that if we were going to spend a few days living it up, this was the time and place to do it. It cost twice our daily budget and hence bought me face to face with my own perception of what this year was about and how we are doing it.

A luxury mini-van picked us up from the hotel. Granted it was a well decked out Ford Transit rather than a Mercedes Benz, but it was finished with bling. Purple and white lights lining the roof, leather chairs that would do Qantas business class proud and built in fridges and freezers. You get the idea.

The mini-van however was just the entrée to the main dish. The Dragon Legend of the Indochina Junk cruise line was the main course with its:

‘24 luxury cabins, 4 decks with inside and outside dining areas, a spa, bar, sundeck, swimming pool and other entertainment options. Each spacious cabin is a work of art with Vietnamese traditional hand crafted décor and modern facilities, a private bathroom includes a bathtub and big sea view windows. Dragon Legend cruise offers dramatic public spaces, impressive open air dining and a bar that definitely makes for a relaxing trip in the bay.’

Yep, it was all that. I particularly liked the cabins. One for Amy and Oliver and one for Emma and I. They were decadent, with big squashy beds and crisp clean sheets. You could lay down and never want to get up and it was oh so easy just to lie there and watch the islands drift by. I wanted never to leave.

Halong, and the lesser known Bai Tu Long, bays have approximately three thousand craggy limestone islands poking their heads out of the sea. Halong has become the famous sibling, but Bai Tu Long is (apparently) identical, all part of the same landscape, but with less people, boats and plastic floating in the water. This is where we headed.

Lunch was served, as soon as we got underway, in the outdoor dining area. Kenny, our host for the three days, strategically sat us next to a family from the US. Ryan and Kami and their children Sage and Indy turned out to be kindred spirits and we were soon happily chatting and enjoying the company of more new friends. As you will have seen from the previous blog we spent more time with them back in Hanoi and then in Hoi An, after the trip.

Kenny by the way, is not Kenny’s real name. By his own admission, Kenny’s Vietnamese name was all but unpronounceable to western tongues (it really was – I tried). The rest of the crew either voluntarily or otherwise followed his lead, going by the names of Harry Potter, James Bond, David Beckham and the like. Harry Potter was, funnily enough, also a magician and thoroughly impressed us all with his post dinner card tricks.

As we ate course after course of delectable Vietnamese cuisine, the rather unimpressive Halong Harbour turned into the very impressive Bai Tu Long Bay. The density of craggy little islands of ever changing shape and size made it captivating. Everywhere we looked islands abounded, further from view they lose definition but gain different shades of blue, silhouetted off to the horizon.

In the afternoon we kayaked out into the islands. It would have been easy to get lost, but Kenny steered us safely on our way. Back on the ship, Amy and Oliver played hide and seek with Sage and Indy, the boat being the perfect place for such games and with only 18 guests on board there was no-one to complain as they roamed up and down stairs and corridors. Emma and I lay in our cabin or on the sundeck and contemplated how we got so lucky.

And so it went. We cruised on and I was never really sure whether we were headed North, South, East or West. We visited stunningly beautiful tiny floating fishing villages nestled in sheltered inner island coves (where, fortunately, the locals this time were genuinely pleased to host us). We had lunch on a private beach watching smaller cruise boats come and go and we spent more time on board eating and enjoying the view as it drifted past, including from the on-board heated pool. It was super comfortable and we were waited on hand and foot at all hours of the day.

Oliver and Sage watching the islands go by

Spring roll making with Kenny and Harry Potter

Exploring the area near the floating village

Floating village (established over 100yrs ago)

Floating village – they fish and farm pearls and now host tourists

The village now makes some money ferrying tourists like us

View from the hill above the lunch spot – there was a cave system here

Without wishing to overstate the matter, the experience challenged my perception of how I deserved or was able to travel and where we were at. That we could afford this brief stint of upmarket travel was something of a revelation. That it was ok and the sky wouldn’t fall in was another. That I am no longer, or at least didn’t need to be, a university backpacker living off rice and soy sauce was… liberating. That this sort of a thing may just be why we work hard and choose not to pursue other spending opportunities justified the effort involved in being here. It was wonderful. And I’d do it again.