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.

Wild white water and crazy canyoning

Pokhara keeps on delivering excitement after excitement and squeezing our adrenaline glands until they’re drained. A day after returning from our 5 day Trek in the mountains and definitely still high from the experience we set off on our final adventure: white water rafting and canyoning. Nepal really offers the best when it comes to white water rafting. Not only are the rivers perfect; offering a range of grades to choose from, but the location is simply stunning, the people are fun and great guides and the camps where you sleep are so relaxing and peaceful.

It took Malene and I a couple of hours to reach the Trisuli river by local bus. As we travelled along the road, the cliff-drop off the side went all the way down to the river at the bottom. We hoped that we wouldn’t skid off the road and prematurely drop into the river.

Arriving at a little hut at the end of a small roadside village, we were instantly greeted by a group of guys, all of whom would be helping us throughout our two day adventure. Our bags were taken care of and we guided down off the road, though some houses and onto a pebbly beach. With the raft in front of us, already bobbing on the water, this was our first introduction with our vehicle for the next day. After a brief introductory chat we met the 4 guides and the 6 of us clambered aboard and paddled down stream.

The morning was good fun; we chatted, sang and played games on the raft. We also swam in the river as parts were calm enough to have a relaxing soak – really appreciated with the hot sun beating down. The real fun, however, didn’t start until after lunch. The rapids grew larger and larger and we were thrown around like rag dolls. The rapid grades grew from 3’s to 4’s (out of a possible 6) and everyone had to work hard together to keep our raft sunny side up. Water exploded all around us as we fought to hold on to the guide rope and our paddles. As we paddled hard and fast through the angry water, we soon felt tired. Using muscles we didn’t know existed, the sets of rapids just kept coming and coming. I was worried that the whole day would be like the morning, although good fun, this wave smashing, white knuckle ride was just what I needed, and great for Malene – it was her first rafting experience!

That evening, we had a short hike to a very remote campsite on the riverside. After crossing a huge bridge that suspends over the river we settled our bags down and collapsed in the hammock; arms and legs shattered from the days rafting. That evening, we were treated to live music and some great food. I even got a mustang coffee which was a lovely warmer and pretty much knocked me out ready for bed. Talking of which, our sleeping arrangement was in small tents, simple, but comfortable.

The following morning, after a great, hearty breakfast we strapped ourselves into a truck and headed off deeper into the hills. After half an hour of more bumpy roads, we reached a little house where we donned our wetsuits, helmets and this time the addition of again, unflattering harnesses. Equipped with rope we started our mini-trek up the hillside. Half way up the hill, we got very lucky as an out stretched snake was soaking up the sun and was lying across the entire track. He looked like a dried stick to me and I was inches away from stepping on him. Luckily we had Malene who was really watching where she placed her feet. Just as she was about to step over its tail, she screamed, “It’s a snake! It’s a snake!” A the snake sprung to life, we all back peddled. Luckily a dog that followed us up the hill ran forwards to confront it and sensing the danger, the snake scurried away through the bush. Afterwards, our guide assured us that the snake wasn’t poisonous, but as far as I was concerned, it was the biggest, baddest snake in Nepal…possibly the world!

At the top of the hill, we were hot and sticky as the wet suits kept all the heat locked in. We were greeted with a huge 70 meter waterfall that cascaded down over green rocks. It really was a beautiful setting for the beginning of our second day of adventuring: canyoning. For those who don’t know, canyoning (not canoeing spelt wrong) is the adrenaline fueled sport of abseiling down waterfalls, jumping off waterfalls and rocks into rock-pools and sliding down natural rock slides again into the warm water pools below.

Abseiling down the first slippery waterfall was awesome. Desperately tying not to slip on the green rocks as we slowly edged our way lower and lower, the water exploded over our faces and around our body. We looked down over our shoulders and that’s when the heart beats a little faster. We were suspended 30 meters above a rock pool, with water pouring over us. It was an incredible feeling of trust (in the equipment) and wildness. We were surrounded by nature and moving with it at the same time.

There were 6 different waterfalls and we took various different ‘methods’ to descend them. The final one was the most scary, and one of the most daunting things I have ever done. It was a 7/8 meter jump off a rock into the pool below. But that would have been too easy…this one required a running start in order to clear 2 meters of rock first and that had to be done on slippery wet rock, one false step, one slip and I doubt my little helmet would help me survive the surely fatal plummet. I won’t lie, it took me a few seconds to pluck up the courage and plan my next steps very carefully. And then it happened. In what felt like slow motion, I took 4 or 5 running steps and jumped as far forward as possible. Then, with arms flapping in the wind, I flew through the air and it really seemed to last a long time before I came crashing down to the cool water below. As the adrenaline exited my brain, I let out a cry of pure excitement and relief that I had made it! Now it was Malene’s turn! I watched patiently from the pool below. To be honest, she made it look very easy!

It was a fantastic finish to a great couple of days and a wonderful ending to our time in Pokhara. A town that really offers so much, you just have to decide how much you want to do. One things for sure, whatever you decide, you won’t be disappointed. I will certainly miss Pokhara and the lakeside. I loved the feeling of the town and the people, the laid back nature of it all and the options available to fill all your adrenaline needs.

No matter where we decided to travel to next, it would always be a little more relaxing than our time here in Pokhara. For us, it would be Chitwan, where we would search for tigers, rhinos and crocodiles…maybe the adrenaline would still be pumping after all?

Rose gardens Vs. Rock gardens

14th, 15th and 16th of December.

Our trip to Chandigarh, would be our first test of traveling since our journey from Delhi over 3 months ago. It is a place that everybody talks about, a place that is quite different from anywhere in the Punjab, if not all of India. We were both excited to go and had planned it a few weeks earlier. The only problem was my Christmas nativity drama. I had, foolishly, given myself 2 weeks to organise, write and direct the children’s first ever Christmas play, and then translate it all into Punjabi for the audience to understand. Still, slightly stressed, it was a good idea to go ahead and visit Chandigarh.

Luckily, we managed to hitch a ride with someone from school who was on their way out there. The journey took 2 hours, or just around the corner as the locals would say. Finding ‘Hotel Silver Bell’ took a little while as we all peered through the jeep’s steamed windows and searched the densely packed buildings for clues. But things were going well, and before long, we were checking in and were quick to evaluate our room which was basic, but clean and even had a little balcony that overlooked the Himalayas. After so long being ‘apart’ from Malene whilst at school (and sleeping in separate rooms with our ‘Indian’ family), it was lovely to be together again.

The first day was spent exploring the western styled shops in the big, central shopping area. Unfortunately, the prices matched the elaborate window displays and we didn’t find too many bargains. One thing we did find however, was the school girls Christmas presents: necklaces with a single letter for their names. Buying anything over here is a challenge, there is no fixed price on anything, very few price tags and if there are, then they are normally wrong, or ‘altered’ by the seller. It’s all about haggling. All the time, trying to speak as much Punjabi in order to make the seller think that you’re not a tourist, and in fact, you’re totally clued up on prices; how ever far that might be from the truth!

We explored a 40 acre rose garden and felt like Cupid’s young lovers again and spent the evening in a very expensive restaurant with silver service waitering, posh drinks and some very tasty food. The following day, Malene and I took a rickshaw out to the famous rock garden – Nek Chand’s collection of waste products, along with beautiful waterfalls and mysterious walkways through dark tunnels. Apart from the constant photo taking by the locals (something we will eventually get used to), we enjoyed an undisturbed, fascinating walk through the imagination of a collectors mind.

Chandigarh proved to be as beautiful and ‘different’ as people had claimed. It was still very Indian by nature, but the hustle and bustle was not as obvious. It was a lovely break away from our routine at school, and lovely to be ‘in love’ with each other again. So thank you Chandigarh, although a bit pricey, a beautiful, green and somewhat unusual city, that we’ll never forget.