Grey but never dull: Dalat

In an attempt to keep this short (maybe even sweet?) our first stop out of Saigon was the seaside resort town of Mui Ne. Never have I seen so many extravagant hotels and spas in one place. To be honest, it was all a little too much. The beach itself was nothing to write home about and the town was way too expensive for us little backpackers. We searched under the moon light for a cheap place to stay, but our luck was out, it was going to be another 7$ night. Unfortunately this time, the cost wasn’t really reflected in the accommodation. The strip we were staying on was like walking down something from a 90210 episode, ‘life styles of the rich and famous’ came to mind.

We left the following morning.

Back on the road and possibly on the bounciest bus imaginable (my back will never be the same) we headed towards Dalat, high in the hills and famous for its coffee and wine: two of my favourite things. As we climbed the mountains, views of lush greenery surrounded us and made for a strong contrast from the cities and seaside places we had visited so far. We expected Dalat to be a small town, tucked away between the hills. It turned out to be quite different. Tucked between the hills yes, small, not so much. As we topped over the final brow of a mountain, Dalat spread out beneath us, far larger than we both imagined.

Sock horror, we weren’t dropped miles out of the centre. Things were looking good, but there was a reason why our little mini bus had struggled through the afternoon traffic to drop us at the first hotel. I think there were some family ties between the driver and hotel staff. Admittedly, it was a nice looking place, but way out of our league. It didn’t take long before we started walking. With no idea of where we were going, and only a vague idea of bearings, we started down the hill – an easier option than trekking upwards. This didn’t last long. Soon we were at the bottom, with only one option regardless of what road we picked; we were going up.

The weather here took us completely by surprise. From 30 degrees in Mui Ne, we had arrived in a place where the weather resembled something more of a British summer: cool, overcast and a little grey. This helped us as we climbed the endless hill to our guesthouse.

The large building looked good from the outside, and didn’t really disappoint on the inside either. The rooms were spacious, but there was no fan? We knew it was 6$ a night, but still, surely we would fry at night? Like I said earlier, the weather was too cold for any need of external cooling systems. In fact, after a rummage around at the bottom of our bags, our jumpers came out, albeit smelling a little damp. Nice.

It was a family run guesthouse and although not a home-stay by normal definitions, it really felt like we were part of family. It was lovely playing with the young children and the host spoke great English which really helped us out. We went through different tour options and tried to set an itinerary whereby we could see as much as possible. This was a none starter. The distances between all the attractions were just too great, and the costs of doing everything over 2 days was quickly climbing to an unfeasible high. Whilst here, we wanted to see some coffee plantations, explore the countryside, visit the Elephant waterfalls and ride elephants, surely not too much to ask for? There was only one solution, another scooter hire.

Malene’s new friend.

Early the next morning, we hired our scooter (unfortunately not pink this time), filled it to the brim and set off into the mountains. It was incredible. Everything was so green and the soil was a rich orange colour that made for a dramatic panorama as we hurtled our way through the hills. Our first stop was the Elephant waterfalls. Supposedly named because the rocks either side of the water resemble elephant heads, we couldn’t quite see it though. What we did see, was nature at its finest. After a slightly daunting descent, over slippery rocks and down to the river, we were rewarded by a beautiful waterfall. Not a bad place for breakfast we thought, and so grabbed our sandwiches and tucked in, occasionally being splashed by the cascading water.

Slippery slopes, was it worth it?

Yep!

Behind the water.

Back towards Dalat, we stopped at a coffee farm. Their most famous coffee is the weasel variety. Not sure on the name, we enquired as to its origin, not expecting the answer we got. As we walked into a little back room, we saw large cages with sleeping weasels. The process behind this coffee is as follows: feed the weasels coffee beans. The weasel then excretes the coffee beans. Make coffee out of what comes out. I was pretty disgusting and I really don’t know who thought of the idea. Ingenious or a little twisted? You decide.

My total concentration face.

After filling up our trusty 2 wheeled steed in Dalat, we continued to head through the city center and out the other side. It didn’t take long before we had to come off the main road and onto a pot holed ridden side track. But it was fun, occasionally felt like motocross and kept us excited for our next stop: Elephant island. To reach the small remote island, we had to cross the lake. The skies were starting to grow a little darker and with the silent water, it was all a little eerie. The island had the same feeling. Desert of people, we stumbled over large tree roots and passed empty swinging chairs. Eventually we found a guy and saw what we had come to see: an elephant. We promised ourselves that we would only go for ‘a ride’ if the animal looked like he was in a comfortable, nice place. With so many stories of animal cruelty, we definitely didn’t want to be part of that. But this elephant was having a great time. And as we climbed the rotting wooden stairs and onto the platform, we gingerly stepped over and onto the wild beast. It was a slow, surreal experience. He (I think it was a ‘he’?) plodded carefully through the forest and down to the waters edge. All the time chewing on a huge bamboo shoot. Naturally, I felt like I was sitting on top of an Imperial walker from Star Wars, another dream fulfilled!

Eerie lake.

Riding through the forest.

Same same but different.

The entire day was something of a dream. This was kind of the underlining tone for this entire trip so far. Right from the start, at the orphanage with the children, to the playground of Nepal and Thailand, Cambodia and now Vietnam: we were ticking so many life long ambitions. It’s all going so well and hopefully won’t change. The way things are turning out…how can it get any better?

We’ve lost out camera.

It turns out that Malene had hidden our camera behind the television in our room in Mui Ne. Without blaming her entirely, I was left in charge of packing our things together in preparation for the bus. Silly me for not checking behind the tv! Okay, I should have done a simple checklist of all important items, but it had happened and we needed to fix it. Luckily, we managed to get in touch with the previous hotel and they had found the camera and were keeping it safe. They then popped it on the bus and we were reunited with our trusty camera later that evening. I was seriously considering buying a new one, as the scratches on the lens are starting to get really noticeable. I hope the photos in this post are passable, as it was my trusty phone that took them.

Our final near miss came when we were to board our bus to Nha Trang. The confusion started with the fact that there are 2 buses, heading in opposite directions and leaving at the same time. We were supposedly booked on the Nha Trang bus, but in fact, the booking hadn’t gone through, leaving us potentially stranded. Luckily (using that word a lot at the moment!) our host managed to book us with a different company which all went through fine. What it does mean is that the company we brought our open bus tickets from, would have had to pay for the same journey twice. Mistakes on their behalf had started, and this would echo for the rest of our Vietnam trip.

Nha Trang here we come. With more beaches and Malene itching to take her PADI open water diving course, we were both eager to get there. We just had to ride out the 12 hour bus journey it would take for us to get there. Good times.

Hard to say goodbye to these views.

River dolphins and new friends: Kratie

It was a long ride to Kratie. Lying south east of Siam Reap, the bus took 12 hours, a lot longer than we had mentally prepared for. With an endless Cambodian musical film blaring out of a million different speakers, it was hard to rest, sleep, think. In fact, it was hard to do anything other than watch. We won’t be forgetting this trip for a while. As the hours passed us by and getting no closer to our destination, we watched the sun set and ate our funny tasting meat-filled baguettes that we picked up at an over priced service stop. We hoped it would all be worth it.

Finally we pulled into the small, sleepy town of Kratie. According to Lonely Planet, Kratie (pronounced ‘Kra-cheh’) is a “lively riverside town” and a “thriving traveling hub”. Admittedly, it was 7pm, but we saw nothing that resembled ‘thriving’ or ‘lively’. Still, we plodded along, laden with bags and searched in the darkness for a place to stay. The place was dead. Shutters up and closed signs on windows gave us little hope. We started talking to a Dutch guy who had visited the town a few years ago and steered us towards a small opening between 2 chemist shops. Up 2 flights of steep steps, we could hear the scuttle of little animals; we didn’t investigate fully into what they might have been, probably not fairies though. Into our room, bags on bed and the usual sigh of relief as we fell onto the hard, unforgiving mattress. Home sweet home.

The following morning, we weren’t in any rush to get up early. We came to this town for the sole reason to see the ultra rare, fresh water Irrawaddy dolphins. But that comes later. We stumbled down from our room and onto the not-so busy street and wandered to a nearby cafè. There were met a few travelers, Damian the Argentinean dancer and Canadian Sam, all of who had the same plans as us…dolphins. We checked with the information desk as to the best time to see them and were informed that our best chances to catch a glimpse of the dolphins would either be early in the morning or as the sun was setting. Our hand was dealt. It was too late for the morning show and so opted for a sunset on the river. All that remained was to plan the rest of the day. Down on the river bank, Malene and I caught a boat. We were joined by Damian and Sam and together we crossed over to the habited island of Koh Trong. A circular tour of the island was 9km, to far to walk, and so the four of us hired what must have been antique bicycles. We squeaked and grinded our way down a small track. We passed houses on stilts and watched locals farm in nearby fields. It was all very calm and felt like a world away from tourists and tuk tuks.

As we traveled further along the pebble track, we reached the waterside. Floating houses and small fish farms covered the water, like a civilasation untouched by technology. We pushed further along the waterside until we reached the tip of the island. With the heat rising and the sweat pouring after the ride, we decided to go for a swim. The cool water felt like heaven. We actually bathed like elephants and sat in the shallow, rich blue water as we got to know each other a little better. It was a perfect afternoon.

Peaceful Koh Trong.

A life on the water.

A forgotten era.

Looking for directions to…nowhere.

Back on the main land, the time was soon approaching for us to head out to the section of river where we would try and find the river Irrawaddy dolphins. We knew we had to take a tuk tuk, the problem was that there were 6 of us now and tuk tuks only take 4 (tourists, different for locals!) and so wanted us to book 2 tuk tuks. This meant the ride would cost much more; not good. It was then that we met 2 other like-minded travelers: Jo and Tom. They had scoured the streets and found a guy who would take all 6 of us: nice work guys!

We crammed ourselves into the tuk tuk, trying to balance the weight out evenly. It actually felt that the motorbike that was pulling us was performing a wheelie most of the way due to the weight. To say the ride was bumpy would be an understatement. Well, ‘bouncy’ then. But the excitement kept us from feeling sick, and half an hour later, we reached the ticket office at the side of the river. We paid and headed down the steep steps to the waters edge where a fleet of boats waited for us. We gingerly hopped on board and as the driver started his rather loud engine, we set off. It wasn’t long before we were floating in the middle of the river. With the engine cut off, we waited and watched the still water for signs of movement beneath. Like searching for the Lock Ness monster, the levels of anticipation were tangible.

And there it was. Poking his dorsal fine high out of the water, the dolphin made his first appearance. Like a magical creature, gliding through the water, we watched with mouths open, in awe of the creature. This was the first of many sightings. Occasionally, 3 or 4 or 5 dolphins would surface and swim along side the boat. One even came directly towards us and only at the last second, dived underneath and past under our boat.

The first of many sightings.

Just saying ‘hello’

Going under the boat…show off!

As the sun began to set, the evening colours came to life. Deep reds reflected on the water as we continued to watch the dolphins. Cameras were out, but predicting their appearances was a challenge. Being so close to such rare creatures, kind of brought it home for us. A once in a life-time experience of nature at its finest and an experience shared with great friends; it was all we could ask for.

Kratie was a relaxed, quite stop for us. We tried the local delicacy of sticky rice cooked with coconut milk and beans then wrapped in bamboo and steamed…I would say ‘filling’ is how I would describe that one. But more importantly, we met some great people. Damian and Sam went a different direction to us, but Jo and Tom would stick around and travel with us down to the capital: Phnom Penh. More great times were just around the corner!

Good night Kratie, thanks for the great memories.

Chitwan – The real-life Jungle book

I would never normally recommend hitching a ride anywhere in the world, perhaps especially in Nepal. The roads are half built (at best), the cliff drops and falling rocks are everywhere and the speeds at which everyone drives, would surely make even Schumacher’s stomach turn. However, our journey from the hills where we went canyoning (see previous post) to Chitwan, was pretty entertaining. As we clambered up the mini ladder and into the hot lorry cab, we sprawled ourselves across the bed-like area which we shared with a ‘co-pilot’ and all our bags. In all honesty, I reckon this form of transport (and this isn’t me recommending it!) is far more comfy than the local buses, even the tourist ones. The only problem were the tiny windows which didn’t let much air into the stuffy cab.

A couple of very bumpy hours later, we reached what was apparently Chitwan. We of course had no idea as both the driver and his co-pilot didn’t speak a word of English. But they were very nice, smiled a lot and helped us with our bags before they disappeared in a cloud of black smoke leaving us wondering if we had made the right choice. It certainly didn’t look like Chitwan.

However, we were in luck. Almost immediately, a couple of taxi drivers surrounded us, obviously smelling fresh meat and an easy ticket. One however, claimed he could take us to the river-side (6km) for free if we looked at his lodge – adding “no pressure to stay”. Malene and I looked at each other and even though we had heard the same story from touts all over India and always rejected them. We thought on this occasion, why not? We felt strong enough to walk straight out if his lodge – The Crocodile Safari Lodge and Camp (bit of a mouthful), if we wanted to try our luck else where.

From the town where we had been dropped off, we squeezed our bags (4 now!) into the drivers little, windowless Suzuki truck. As we sped off down the road and out of the industrial town, the countryside soon opened up to us. Field workers were still labouring hard in the afternoon sun and as we bumped our way down the road, the trees started growing taller and thicker…the jungle was arriving.

What can I say? The Crocodile Safari Lodge and Camp, although terribly named, is the most beautiful, unassuming and honest place we have stayed in. With a well kept garden, quaint narrow paths and small sun terraces, we had found a gem. Our room was spacious, with mossy net and a private terrace equipped with deck chairs that made us feel like we had landed in heaven. The food was delicious, the staff were kind and always smiling…I could literally go on and on. One small drawback was the generator. Like everywhere in Nepal, powercuts are part of the daily routine. With electricity only lasting a couple of hours here (slightly worse than Kathmandu and Pokhara) you really need to chose what appliances you want to charge. But normally in the evening, in order to send power to a few auxiliary lights, the generator is fired up. This one happened to be quite loud, but we couldn’t complain, this place ticked all the right boxes and we knew when to be thankful for such a place.

Early the next morning, we joined two fellow backpackers and the hotel manager (same man that picked us up the day before) and set off down the street towards the river. Within a couple of minutes, we had arrived at the river-side and carefully clambered into the extremely narrow boats. Carved from a single piece of hollowed out tree, the boats were barely wide enough for us to squeeze our bums in and didn’t feel incredibly stable. Still, we slowly drifted out as the boat man extended his pole into the shallow water and pushed off. The sun was just waking up and the early morning mist covered the water like an eerie introduction to a horror movie. After asking our guide if there were crocs here, he claimed he couldn’t see any right now, but was sure we’d see a few soon…we all placed our hands back inside the raft.

Being the first on the Rapti river that morning, we relaxed into our seats, forgetting the imminent danger that lurked beneath and soaked up the beautiful nature that surrounded us. We were introduced to so many different birds. My favorite being the kingfisher with its electric blue body, and we saw many. From the river we saw deer grazing near the shore and even got a taste of some baby water rapids – tiny compared to our day on the Trisuli river, but in this raft, we all felt like we were walking on a tight-rope, one sneeze and we would be swimming.

Back on dry land, our guide explained to us the dangers of trekking in animal infested jungles. We would most certainly come across wild animals and would need to know what to do in case one confronted us. There were different strategies for tigers, elephants, sloth bears and rhinos, but by now, we were switched on and taking mental notes.

After a quick dash through the jungle, we came back to the waters edge where our guide abruptly span round, hands up in the air as we all stopped. His finger slowly covered his mouth and told us to be very quiet. We were told to watch where we were walking and, I quote “don’t break any sticks” – not an easy feat in the jungle! As we all huddled together and peered round the long grass, a huge crocodile was soaking up the early morning sun on the river bank, no more than 5 meters from us. Our guide whipped out his telescope and as we peered through its lens we realised just how close we were to a fully grown, basking mugger crocodile – and that’s not the vegetarian type!

Before long, a dark shadow crept forward through the water and out crawled a second crocodile. As we watched them in awe our guide had already spotted a different croc. This time the long, narrow jawed Ghariel crocodile had perched itself up on the bank and appeared to be watching us. Luckily, this was a fish eating crocodile and apparently of no danger to us, although I certainly wasn’t going to test that theory.

Final chapter: Varanasi

3rd – 7th February

It turns out that 30 hours spent on a train is not as bad as it sounds. Luckily we picked the sleeper class which meant we sat with some interesting locals. Apart from writing this blog, reading and drinking cup after cup of chai, we both spent most of the journey lying in our bunks, in and out of sleep. On the train, we met a guy who was also stopping at Varanasi. In fact he helped us pick our ‘on-board meal’ and although spicy (sorry Malene), it was bearable. At Varanasi station, everything seemed quite normal. It was busy, hot and there was a spattering of tourists, most of which were either lost or being ripped off by local taxi drivers. We hoped we wouldn’t fall for their mistakes. Following our new friend through the station, we darted up and over stairs, over beggars legs and out of the exit before most of the touts even saw us. Outside the station, we headed for the government rickshaw parking area. Here, we were guaranteed we wouldn’t pay extra just because we were tourists, and whilst that felt promising, it still cost us more than we originally thought.

Heading out into the busy streets we quickly got a good idea of the city. Sat in our rickshaw, we could see just how dirty this place was. In fact, I couldn’t see anything that looked clean, and I challenge anyone visiting Varanasi to try and prove me wrong. The first thing we saw were the cows, but what was more noticeable was what they left behind. Literally cow shit everywhere! When it came to walking through the incredibly narrow streets, it was like a mine-field: some pats old, but most were fresh.

At our hotel, we checked in and then climbed 5 stories until we reached the rooftop restaurant. It was a beautiful day and the view was amazing. We could see the Ganges river to one side and sprawling city on the other. Our hotel offered free boat trips both in the evening and in the mornings and without hesitation we quickly booked one for that evening. Finding these boat trips for free was definitely a bonus. In fact, it was probably the first ‘free’ activity we had come across in India.

Our walk to the ghat where our boat was docked was our first experience of walking through the tiny, clustered streets. We were staying in the old part of the city, which was very different to the area where the station was. The streets here were barely wide enough for people to pass each other, so when a motorbike came past, we really had to be on our toes. Even more of a challenge came when passing cow or buffalo, as Malene found when one almost impaled her with its giant horn. At the water’s edge, we scrambled over moored boats and eventually sat down, eager to set off and see the city. Shortly after rowing out we came to the Manikarnika Ghat – the main burning Ghat. Here it was forbidden to take photos in order to respect the grieving families who were cremating loved ones. This was the most auspicious place in the whole world for Hindus to be cremated as it offers them Moksha: liberation from the cycle of birth and death. Dead bodies are carried through the old city on beds made from bamboo and wrapped in colourful cloth. It is a continuos train of people and as they chant to their Gods, it all becomes very surreal. The bodies are then doused with holy water from the Ganges before the burning begins. The fire used for this ceremony is kept alight 24 hours a day and the wood used is carefully stacked in the surrounding area. Each body requires a different amount of wood in order to fully burn the body (depending on the size of the person) and it is a very precise science. Depending on the wealth of the family, different varieties of wood are available, with sandlewood as the most expensive.

Our boat ride continued down river where we could really see the importance of the water. It was the centre of the people’s day to day lives. From bathing to washing cloths to brushing teeth, the importance of the river quickly became apparent. That evening, we spent time watching the burning ghat from an overlooking balcony and really felt the spiritual aura and atmosphere that it all created.

The next morning, we did it all again. Taking our boat this time with the sun rising behind us. It was as if the city hadn’t slept and even at 7am it was still extremely lively. This time there were more boats on the river. Boats ‘manned’ by young boys came up alongside us and like little floating shops, offering us drinks, crisps and little flower lanterns that we could use as an offering to the river. Back on terra firma, it was amazing to simply walk along the river. Groups of children playing cricket and badminton on the waters edge were great fun to stop and watch, especially when the had to wade into the water for their lost ball. Cows of course wandered everywhere and watching tourists skip between cow excrement was just as funny. I think on average, I managed to step in cow crap around 2 to 3 times a day – much to Malene’s amusement!

On our first evening out, we were treated to live traditional Indian music. With one guy on a giant sitar and his friend on a tabla (twin drums) we lost ourselves in hauntingly beautiful music. Of course, a large slice of chocolate cake really helped! This was at a place called the German Bakery (no links with Germany!) and we found ourselves here throughout our stay in Varanasi. Nice little restaurants aside, the street food here is also excellent. We especially liked the potato and bean patties, freshly cooked in front of you and was another great way to sit and stare at wondering tourists and locals alike.

With the streets full of colour and music, it was easy to get lost in the labyrinth of the old city. We loved Varanasi for so many reasons, but most of all because it felt like ‘India’ for us. Evenings were spent watching the ganga aarti – a river worshiping ceremony and surrounding ourselves in the liveliness of the place made us feel warm and spiritual – a lot coming from me; someone who has very few religious beliefs.

We spent one day at a local, charity-run school that offered help for both children and their parents. Again with ties to the German Bakery, we brought clothes made by the women from this organisation. At the school, we met the founder and 2 volunteers who were there for a couple of weeks teaching the young children. It was a very humble place and in someway, totally reminded us of our time at school in the Punjab. It was strange because although I miss the children tremendously, I hadn’t missed the teaching so much…until now. Watching the children go through their ABC’s and learning to count reminded us of all the memories and frustrations, and love we felt when we ‘taught’. I think we both decided at that moment, that our teaching days were not over.

Varanasi is a place to get lost, literally and spiritually. You need to look past the dirt and grime, but at the same time, embrace it. Spending longer here than our normal couple of days was a great decision as it gave us a freedom of wondering, watching the pilgrims and laughing at fellow tourists. Although we weren’t brave enough to swim in the Ganges (for fear of disturbing a dead body or swallowing the polluted water), we did dip our feet in, even if it was to wash off something we had earlier stepped in.

Varanasi, quickly jumped to my number 1 stop in India. It was everything I had expected and more. The culture and vibrance was right there in front of us and we didn’t need to search it out. As our last stop in this great, diverse country, we couldn’t have asked for more. There is so much to see here, without needing to go into temples or shrines or other popular tourist spots. After our visit in Goa, we finally fell back in love with India. Just remember, try and keep one eye on where you step.

Apart from a quick stop in Delhi, Varanasi would be our final chapter of India. I think we felt all emotions possible during our trip here and although a little tiring at times, it’s certainly an experience that will change us forever. I hope you’ve enjoyed following us, but don’t stop yet! It’s about to get really interesting. Our adrenaline glands are about to take a battering as we travel up into Nepal, where we will get truly wild, high, wet, and sunburnt…again. We will search for rhinos, swim with elephants, jump from waterfalls and fly with eagles. I just hope I have the energy at the end of the day to write about it all.

But seriously…Varanasi…WOW!