I’m not sure what was more uncomfortable, standing there knowing I was being scammed (twice) or peeing out of my butt for two days in a row. Either way, it was all happening in Morocco.
Distilling the essence of “The Western Kingdom” is difficult since I had such a mixed experience, not to mention I was only there for 12 days. My exposure to the country was limited to the specific cities and activities I did.
To start with, I was inundated with shades of orange among the dirt roads and walls of the old cities. That ever-present color palette created the perception of sandy air. It’s like there was a desert nearby or something.
Even though I didn’t have enough time for a proper trip out to the Sahara, I saw a decent amount of barren landscapes on day excursions and train rides. Side note: public transportation a la buses and trains was surprisingly simple and reliable. However, certain passenger trains had small cabins with two rows of seats facing each other. That was quite crammed, when you factor in that many people ignore their ticketed seat assignment and sit wherever they feel like. That being said, my trips were more or less on time and adhered to the estimated duration.
Back to the architecture. The construction of the medinas seemed drab at first, but unique patterns started to reveal themselves upon closer look. The sophisticated detail of mosques and palaces was a joy to admire. Small elements showcased the French, Spanish and Portuguese influences. Outside the kasbahs, modern museums, apartments, and sport complexes were sprouting up in the larger cities. The contrast must be confusing for birds flying overhead.
Apart from the buildings, the souks are a congested tapestry of handmade figurines, colorful spices, knockoff apparel, and…well, tapestries. Though these markets are oft crowded and a risk for pickpockets, each walk through provides an opportunity to see, hear, or smell something new. Continually discovering new stalls, listening to painful negotiations, and inhaling the scent of freshly blended citrus was like being part of a complex ecosystem. I can’t count how many times I was called “Ali Baba” either. Apparently it means “strong man” or something in that ball park. But the definition was given to me by a guy running a scam, so I’m not sure he was a reliable source. Besides the flattering nickname, I was called Spanish, Italian, German, and even Chinese at one point. There’s a first time for everything, I guess.
Speaking of the people, this is another area where I’m hot and cold. The proprietors of the hostel I stayed in were incredibly generous, intelligent and interesting. Their easygoing vibe set a good standard at the beginning of my time in Marrakech.
From there, my impression began to deteriorate. In the streets and souks, I feel like they saw foreigners as walking dirham. While one vendor could be aggressive about getting your business, another would stand firm on an outlandish price. If it wasn’t someone trying to sell you something, it was a deceitful “friend” attempting, and sometimes succeeding, at wrapping you up in an elaborate con.
One contingency of people that were completely pleasant were the ex-pats. In every city I visited, there seemed to be a healthy community of middle-aged French or Spanish couples. Perhaps they’re content with life because they moved to a place where their retirement money will have a longer runway. Regardless, both groups are navigating the mixture of cultures with class.
*Mint tea photo courtesy of Jud Mason
To end on a high note, I have to mention the cuisine. I’m talking about tajine. I’m talking about cous cous. I’m talking about mint tea. I was either unfamiliar or uninterested in all of those things before my visit. Now, I’m an avid fan. It doesn’t get much better than spiced meat and vegetables slow-cooked in a special clay pot. As a shocking revelation, mint tea was the preferred beverage of choice between my friend Jud and I. Not beer. Somehow not beer. I can’t forget about the abundance of shawarma as well. Always delicious, occasionally detrimental to the digestive tract. It was a staple meal for us, while also being ridiculously affordable.
The cost of food and beverage in Morocco is actually an interesting topic — there was an incredible range in price depending on the establishment. It’s not groundbreaking that street meat was cheap, around $2.50 USD for a wrap with fries and tea. Alternatively, a meal at a nicer restaurant was closer to $15-$20. Still a reasonable price when you compare that to an outing back home, but it’s expensive when you’re on a traveler’s budget. Lastly, a liter of beer was over $10. Hey, I never said I didn’t have any beer. That’s almost an Oktoberfest rate and I found it absurd. It went down easy though.
So, now you might be asking yourself if I would recommend a trip to Morocco. Honestly, it’s difficult to say. Just because I had a mediocre experience doesn’t mean everyone will. I know people that have thoroughly enjoyed themselves. I will say this: my next jaunt to Africa will be elsewhere. Maybe I would have a different opinion if I had more beer and less diarrhea.
By the Numbers
Days in Morocco: 12 AirBnBs: 3 Public Transportation Rides: 10 Camel Rides: 1 Medinas Visited: 4 Barbershops Seen: Infinite MAD Spent: ~$3,889.71 USD Spent: ~$403.24 (Conversion rate of 9.646)
For those interested in visiting one day, here’s a list of where I went and how I ranked stuff: (click the top left button of the map to expand the list view)
I got lost in a vacuum. Thankfully, it was the good kind of lost. For the better part of a month, I was in a whirlwind of German beer, party people, the S2 train, and rolling sleeping bags.
This was my most anticipated Workaway to date — an Oktoberfest with Festanation. I knew it was going to be camping for the entirety of the festival, but that was the only real information I had.
The majority of the volunteers arrived on a Sunday in the middle of September. It was a largely empty site at an old Olympic stadium/horse farm. The first day was all about icebreakers and orientation talk. There was something like 60 of us from 20 different countries. Everyone was preassigned a role and separated into a Camp 1 or Camp 2 faction.
The next day, the Camp 1 hooligans were shipped off to their temporary home and my Camp 2 fam began constructing the remainder of our drunken sanctuary. We had 3 intense days of setting up tents and teepees, building out a kitchen, and decorating and organizing to create some coziness.
While this phase was grueling at times, it gave everyone an opportunity to grow into a close crew. Especially when we finished for the day and the beers came out. We punished crate upon crate of €.29 Pilsner. Everyone quickly became pseudo-dependent on alcohol. It was like none of us could act normally without a few sips of something. But finally, we were ready for our first guests.
The first day of Oktoberfest, it was my responsibility to shepherd the guests in…even though I’d never done it before. Half of them immediately got on a train without me, so I guess that made things easier.
It was a beautiful day. All reports were that it would be impossible to find a table but we were able to snag one in the Biergarten at the Paulaner fest hall. After the mayor officially tapped the first keg at noon, the steins began flowing. It was a glorious thing to witness. The waiters and waitresses were carrying out 12 liters of beer at once. Insanity. I was with a group of fellow volunteers and the wheels came off the wagon relatively early. We kept losing each other amidst the crowd of other drunkards. We convened outside another tent and started snatching up abandoned beers next to the entrance. When I lost the group for the sixth time, I wandered around some more and decided to head back to camp.
Thus, the cycle had started.
Oktoberfest can be difficult to manage. I went in probably around 10 times. When you’re sober, it is significantly less fun! I couldn’t believe that parents were bringing their children there. When you’re there all day, it’s a proper test of drinking at the right pace. A liter of beer is a shit ton to start off with. But it’s also brewed at a higher percentage for the festival. The trouble is, “Ein Prosit” (drinking song), is played about every 5 minutes, so you’re continually pouring that sweet nectar down your gullet. Otherwise, you’ve got some jolly tablemates that want to cheers because everyone blinked. It’s continuous. And usually you forget to eat even though pretzels the size of a lion’s head pass by at a steady clip.
All that being said, it’s a hell of a time. Everybody is in positive spirits (because beer) and there’s rarely a place that you won’t make a fast friend. I saw more people being wheeled out on gurneys from extreme drunkenness than fights.
The most dangerous outings for me came when I got off of a late shift and went in for just two hours. By that time, the entire beer hall was standing on benches and singing along to classic tunes. The rate of consumption increased as the vividness of my memories decreased. There’s a reel or two missing, if you know what I mean.
A few days into the festival, I ran out of cellular data. At the camp, there was no WiFi, so I was feeling very disconnected from the rest of the world. Hence, the vacuum. The only world I knew was in front of me. Fellow volunteers. Taking the train. Drinking a stein. Standing on benches chatting with strangers. Eating eggs for breakfast. Spending an entire 7 hour shift cleaning and rolling sleeping bags. Repeat.
As an aside, some of the guests staying with us were heathens. I can’t even begin to describe the amount of vomit, piss, and sometimes shit we had to deal with during housekeeping shifts. “Shocking behavior!” as a fellow travel mate once said.
Back to the camp — tent life for a month is an unusual standard. First off, the bipolar German weather had us sweating during the day and absolutely freezing at night. Not to mention the amount of rain we had. Where do you hang your shower towel to dry when it’s pissing down? Second off, have you ever tried to stay organized when living inside a small plastic box for more than a week. I was losing shit left and right, which we know is uncharacteristic for my semi-OCD ass.
I still can’t believe how quickly the time evaporated. There were so many random, but amazing things that happened among the Festanation staff. Pranks on the regular. Virginity lost. Other hook ups. Wearing ridiculous outfits. Todd. Dancing to outlandish songs on repeat. Smuggling beverages. Turning a carrot into a trumpet. Stickers everywhere. Making fun of Flavio. Yes, that carrot thing really happened.
The overall event met, exceeded…disintegrated expectations? I don’t know. It ranks up there around incredibly unforgettable (except for the parts I forgot due to beer) on the scale of great experiences. The rag tag crew of people were an absolute riot. There’s one person, though, that I was lucky enough to really connect with throughout camp. Michelle stole me away. She is a positive, intelligent and creative person with an infectious laugh and an inescapable brightness. Plus, I don’t think she’s ever taken a bad photo. This is beyond any camp or festival fling. I’m starting to believe that sometimes you just know.
As the festival came to a close and our last guest checked out, the reality of what was next began to set in. The first few people left camp and it was depressing. Not only did we have to start tearing down everything we’d built and known for the past few weeks, but we also had to start saying goodbye. It really hit me when I saw the shop at the entrance that sold lederhosen and dirndls was completely empty. Also when they took our showers away and we still had 3 days of pack up left.
The camp 2 family went out for a last supper to celebrate the survival of Oktoberfest 2019. It wasn’t the whole group, but it was a quality time. We had an award ceremony and a final get smashed bash in what was left of the reception tent afterward.
The following day, people started to trickle out. Myself included. I went into Munich to spend one last night with Michelle.
Oh, yeah. Munich. I saw almost none of the city during the entire month. Remember that vacuum?
Anyway, the real goodbye was on a Friday morning. I got on a bus headed for Croatia. I crossed the border safely (which was good news for many reasons), and I wondered when I would see everyone next. Especially that special girl in Mexico.
Somebody told me that Thailand was called “The Land of Smiles.” For the most part, it felt like that was only when people wanted something from me. I did encounter one smile in particular that was heart melting. I’m saving those details for the memoir though.
I suppose the smiles could still be a work in progress. Adult braces were popular. Same goes for nose jobs and fake boobs/gender modifications (ie ladyboys). I never had an in-depth conversation with a local about their take on that phenomenon. But the sex culture is so prevalent and open. I think Pattaya is the prostitution capital of the world. I was given a heads up to steer clear so am only able to speak anecdotally. I can, however, speak first hand to how Tinder was sort of categorized based on location.
Chiang Mai – Primarily girls working in massage parlors trying to get business.
Phuket – “Freelance” aka service girls.
Bangkok – Normal Tinder. Decent amount of matches that are pretty much dead ends.
On multiple occasions, I heard people mention so-and-so having a Thai girlfriend. Seemed like a common concept. I’m curious to get more insight on that and the ladyboy prevalence when I return.
Along with orthodontists and plastic surgeons, 7-11 owners are making a killing. I’m highly considering becoming a franchise member. It would be a guaranteed passive income. In some places, there are stores directly across the street from one another. This is not an exaggeration. It’s a surefire investment.
Other miscellaneous observations:
Umbrellas are for sunny days.
They cut with spoons.
Vendors are less pushy than other neighboring countries.
The public transportation system was pretty good.
Thailand is a very strange shape.
I wasn’t as nomadic across the country as I would have liked to be. And I didn’t have all that much time to thoroughly digest a place. I missed out on a lot of activities for sure so perhaps I’ll have a longer list the next time I visit.
One of Thailand’s unique attributes is that it provides diverse landscapes and attractions. From the mountains and canyons of the north to the tropical beaches in the south, you could spend time trekking with elephants or boating to a picturesque and private blue water haven.
Wherever you prefer, there’s sure to be a temple nearby. Gold-wrapped and ornate, the wats in Thailand offered a unique Buddha or structure to help differentiate them from one another. Faith was strong and on display everywhere, down to a cashier bowing with praying hands to every customer. That’s what makes the promiscuity and sultry experimentation such an intriguing contrast.
Perhaps my biggest indulgence during my time in Thailand was the food. I neglected to take a cooking class, but I partook in enough street food to make up for it. The depth of flavor was extremely inviting. Curry and Pad Thai options were addictive — this coming from a person who didn’t rate any Thai cuisine before traveling. Khao Soi is a must try if you ever find yourself in Chiang Mai.
A piece of hearsay I became privy to was that tourism seemed to be slowing down. I was there during low season (and don’t have another trip to compare it to), so I can’t offer an opinion on that. I will say that the people seemed to be more confident and audacious. Perhaps that could be attributed to more exposure with foreigners. The integration of western concepts was much more seamless here than any other Asian country I’ve visited. The prices reflected that as well. Whether or not that changes with a fluctuating tourism industry, only time will tell.
By the Numbers
Days in Thailand: 15 Planes, Trains, and Buses: 8 Islands Visited: 5 Massages: 2 Street Food Meals: 12 Temples Visited: Lost Count THB Spent: ~20,857.01 USD Spent: ~$662.74 (Conversion rate of 31.4709)
For those interested in visiting one day, here’s a list of where I went and how I ranked stuff: (click the top left button of the map to expand the list view)
Favorite Attractions: 1. The Grand Palace 2. Koh Phi Phi 3. Doi Suthep 4. The Marble Temple 5. Wat Chedi Luang 6. Wat Pho 7. Koh Khai Nai 8. Khaosan Road/Bangla Road 9. The Golden Mount 10. The Big Buddha (Phuket)
Lastly, below is my “best of” album. This country has a lot more to offer than what I captured but hopefully I’ll be back when I’m a bit more advanced in my photography skills.
I’m not exactly sure what the right way is to sum up Cambodia. There were highs and lows as there always are, but this country felt different. Maybe it was because I started off doing something wildly sad on the first day. Really, I think it’s because they’re still on the cusp of figuring it out. It could have something to do with the large-scale adoption of western influences, all the way down to American currency. In my opinion, it would feel better if there was a stronger Cambodian personality, or at least a Khmer spin on the foreign aspects they choose to integrate.
There are some really good pieces, but the full puzzle isn’t quite there. Yet.
I found some great places to stay and some even better places to eat. But nearby there was bound to be mounds of dirt or piles of trash. Cleanliness can be chucked into the ‘in progress’ category. Geckos, roaches and rats were seen regularly. It’s something you have to put out of your mind when going to a restaurant. I’m not saying I need pristine surroundings (though the royal palace was a sight to see), but I could’ve avoided a few trips to the can in better circumstances. Although, you know, it wouldn’t be what it is without those elements. A few table ants and a mosquito bite during a meal does enhance the authenticity.
In addition to insect repellant, don’t forget your sunscreen if you’re visiting during the non-rainy months. And remember to budget for drinking water. To say it’s warm would be a massive understatement. Air con was a luxury; a fan was a minimum requirement. Again, part of the experience.
The cultural offerings were stunning to witness. From both sides of the table. The Khmer Rouge history is such an important part of the country’s identity, albeit cripplingly disheartening. Whether it’s recovery from that or general progress, they’re definitely building toward something. Once they get their transit system on track, I think growth will be exponential. I’d be interested to see the difference in 10 years.
As for the main standout, it has to be, unsurprisingly, Angkor Wat. You could easily spend a full week exploring the temples and still have so much left to see. Now, I don’t think a normal person would have the stamina to do it in that heat, but that’s beside the point. I’m having trouble coming up with more to say about it. The collection of structures and carved stone was so vast and impressive that I found myself meandering about. Much like this post.
I can’t finish without mentioning the Khmer people. So positive, so kind. I saw so many faces light up in response to a smile or “Hello.” Hostel staff treated guests like immediate friends. The attitude and character can not only be appreciated, but used as inspiration.
I hope they Seam Reap the benefits of happiness and prosperity. What a segue.
By the Numbers
Days in Cambodia: 13 Tours: 6 Bus Rides: 7 Tuk Tuk Rides: 8 Massages: 1 Temples Visited: Lost Count Angkor Beers: Lost Count KHR Spent: ~1,772,148.00 USD Spent: ~$443.04 (Conversion rate of 4,000)
For those interested in visiting one day, here’s a list of where I went and how I ranked stuff: (click the top left button of the map to expand the list view)
Lastly, below is my “best of” album. This country has a lot more to offer than what I captured but hopefully I’ll be back when I’m a bit more advanced in my photography skills.
The bus/shuttle game in Cambodia is an interesting one. The arrangements and scheduling are all very loose and ill-explained. Some people on the stretch from Kampot to Phnom Penh had tickets and some didn’t. We changed vehicles a few times. We ended up being crammed into a small passenger van for about 5hrs on a drive that should’ve taken 3. Once in PP, it was unclear what our next move was.
Thankfully, it was only an hour until the next ride to Siem Reap. It was another full passenger van. Six more hours of transit with a non-functioning seatbelt and a race car driver insistent on overtaking other vehicles in the opposite lane of traffic.
I arrived nonetheless and my hostel was in walking distance from the drop off point. What a hostel it was as well.
Lub d (whatever that means). The vibe was very welcoming. Awesome amenities with a bar and pool right as you walk in. It seemed social and the staff was incredibly friendly. The dorm rooms and other facilities were super cozy and clean. This place has slotted into my overall top 5 accommodations on the trip. I immediately extended my stay there by one night, partially because the place was sweet and partially because I needed the extra time to organize all of the activities I wanted to do.
Unexpectedly, there was a clan of other Americans also staying at the hostel. By far the most Americans in one place that I’ve encountered on my travels. Kaitlin (29, Maryland) and David (26, Wisconsin) did the free walking tour with me in the morning. The tour was underwhelming and quick but it gave us a chance to get to know each other. David and I hung out for most of the day while Kaitlin did some stuff on her own. We reconvened for a cycling tour of the nearby lotus fields that evening.
Cue several other Americans entering the fray. There was a fleet of westerners on biking through the streets of Siem Reap chatting to one another. It took around 30 minutes to get out of the city. We stopped very briefly in one lotus field and then continued onto a more scenic spot to watch the sunset. We drank a beer with the kind staff while playing Heads Up. Somehow one of them was all about the Friends category and knew everything. It was another guy’s birthday and he sang us a song as the sun dipped below the horizon.
We had another 30 minute ride back to the hostel that destroyed everyone’s asses because of the rock-hard seats. Even in the dark, it was ridiculously hot and humid. It was time for a dip in the pool when we returned. Meet Sara (39, Florida but living in the UK) and Michael (47, Delaware but current nomad). While enjoying our temperate soak in the pool, we decided to coordinate a sunrise tour of Angkor Wat together in the morning.
After that was arranged, we went for dinner as a group and met the birthday boy out at a Pub Street spot for a beverage. X bar had a grungy atmosphere with a decent view of the city. There was also a small half pipe on the 3rd floor. We did our best to behave since we had a 4am wake up call. By that I mean we left at midnight. I ended up trying to stay awake to watch a soccer match which was a poor decision.
The team was responsible and on time in the morning. Props. David, Kaitlin, Sara, Michael and myself comprised the Temple squad. We boarded our tour bus and had our day passes purchased by 5am.
We unloaded at Angkor Wat after some blue had already spilled into the sky. There was a crowd surrounding the reflecting pool but we weaseled our way into the mix and got spots.
The city of temples was overwhelming at first. So many massive 12th century structures to explore. Angkor Wat was built in 37 years which seems insane based on the size, detail, and material needed for construction.
Eventually we went inside and made our way to the third floor by climbing a steep set of stairs. The internal layout was a grid of hallways that led to large, open-air sanctuaries. Incredible. None of the pictures from the day can do any of the buildings justice.
On the way out, David was lightly attacked by a monkey that was after a coconut. Luckily it was a non-rabies altercation.
The second stop, Bayon (The Temple of the Faces), was difficult to enjoy because it was overrun with boisterous Chinese tourists. Everywhere you turned there was either a gaggle of people or a stone-carved face, so part of it was interesting.
Next, we glossed over a site where elephant fights were held, paused for lunch at 10:30am, and briefly scoped a Buddha archway.
The last stop of the tour was Ta Prohm, otherwise known as “the Tomb Raider temple.” Much of this site was in ruins, thanks to several large trees growing right through the middle of everything. Again, the scale was difficult to capture with a camera. I just hope my eyes don’t forget.
Just like that, the tour was done and we were back at Lub d shortly after 12pm. We did so much, but it also felt like it wasn’t enough time.
We had a full day pass, so we negotiated with our awesome tour guide, Vishnu, to take our squad back for an afternoon expedition to visit a few new areas and catch the sunset somewhere.
After individual rest sessions, the 5 of us piled into Vishnu’s tuk tuk and rode back to hot spots.
We had a small hike up to a hilltop temple that offered a good view of the surrounding landscape. Then we had a really worthwhile stop at a temple we had all to ourselves. The lighting and the architecture were a pleasant pairing. We had a fun photo shoot and moved onto another wooded one that was technically closed but we wandered through quickly. Finally, we got to Pre Rup where we witnessed the last gasps of the setting sun before being kicked out.
Vishnu drove us through a very large local market on the way back to the hostel. We were barely able to drag ourselves to dinner before calling it a night.
Most of the next day was a rest and recoup situation for me. I walked around the city for a while in the early afternoon and made a morning bus reservation to head to Battambang. Then it was time to chill more in the AC.
Once the group assembled, I found out that Sara and David were also planning on going to Battambang so we combined forces on a room booking and they got bus tickets like me.
We walked around some of the night markets, had a late last dinner together and then hit the town to have some fun. The hostel was having an organized bar crawl, but we made our own and met up with them for a little bit. In the middle of pub street, there were promoters handing out flyers for free shots everywhere (coincidentally one of them was doing that as a Workaway — good to know for the future). The pamphlet shots became problematic. There were many and they tasted terrible.
We had an odd experience at a place slightly off the grid. Then before I knew it, we were back at X bar. There was dancing, more drinking, a random fire show on the half pipe, and a very overt $30 offer for sex. Nope.
Time evaporated. Either the bar closed or I left. Not entirely sure which. Not entirely sure at what time. I had a dalliance with a local girl and by the time I got back to Lub d it was light outside. I rounded up my packed belongings and successfully managed not to forget anything in my drunken stupor. I was starting to fade in and out when Sara and David came down to join me. We boarded our bus on time and I finished watching Tottenham Hotspur miraculously advance to the Champions League final over cellular data before passing out hard on the bus.
I woke up pretty much in Battambang. Another 3hr trip that took closer to 5. The reduced squad checked into our new digs and went down to get a meal. We sort of got strong-armed into a tour on our way out, but it was all stuff we were planning on doing anyway.
Post lunch, we were taken to the bamboo train, which is basically just a sheet of bamboo propelled by a gas engine. It kind of flew down the tracks. It gave us a chance to see rural Battambang at pace. We stopped in a tourist trap where the highlight was a cute little puppy. Then we tracked back to the beginning.
Next, we went to see thousands of bats flying out of an elevated cave. We also climbed a very eerie hill that had many labyrinths of pathways, abandoned worshiping areas and dissonant music playing from somewhere. There was a killing cave that we never found. But we did brave a slew of monkeys to arrive at a hilltop pagoda with a scenic lookout. The creepiness factor of the entire area, combined with the looming darkness convinced us to bounce after a short time.
Battambang wasn’t much to explore at night. I think we ended up doing the same walk to Street 2.5 about 7 or 8 times. All the interesting cafes and bars weren’t far off that strip.
I caught some sort of bug either at lunch or dinner that kind of sidelined me for the following day. Although we did get a triples, traditional Khmer massage which was worth it — a light deep tissue experience, with loads of pounding and clapping. Somehow I made it through without exploding, which was good.
I was planning to catch a bus to Bangkok after the second night but that didn’t seem in the cards. Sara and David found an interesting “tour of the North” that seemed like a good thing to entertain and do some mending.
We had an early start on Saturday morning. There were supposed to be 8 stops but we only got 6. We survived 500 crocodiles and even got to hold a baby, ate some fresh bamboo sticky rice, nearly vomited at the fish market, saw two temples and a killing field, as well as tried some fresh spring rolls while watching rice paper be made. Definitely a good opportunity to get a glimpse into local life and witness some of the culture of Battambang.
The rest of the day was spent relaxing and making arrangements for our upcoming travels. Myself, Sara, and David had a solid dinner and watched a bit of live music before packing and heading to bed.
I’m currently in the midst of a marathon in-transit day, featuring at least 4 buses/shuttles, a break down, a land border crossing, a can of real BBQ Pringles, purchases in multiple currencies, and 15+ hrs of wheel rolling. I think I’ll make it to my destination. I hope I do…
How has it been two months already? When I got to Vietnam, I wasn’t planning on staying that long. The extended visit meant that I got to get out of my backpack for a change and remember what a routine was like. Most of that routine consisted of me struggling to teach 4-15 year olds English — something I ignorantly underestimated despite having no experience.
As someone who has never been confident interacting with young kids, allowing me to “command” a full classroom was a highly questionable decision on the part of my employers. Each morning I had to fight past my discomfort to show up and attempt to teach, even though I didn’t know what I was doing. And while there may not have been a real benefit for the students, I did connect with a few of them. I have a newfound appreciation and respect for teachers (and parents for that matter) — especially those with the patience and fortitude to keep smashing head first into the wall that is kindergarten-aged little ones. At a very pessimistic minimum, all of the nerves and sweat helped subsidize an excellent 10-day tour across the country with my friend Jorge.
While teaching had its rough moments, there’s still plenty of things I came to love about Vietnam.
The cities are densely populated and bustling. Streets packed with motorbikes and cars made crossing the road feel like a game of life and death at times. The street food stalls full of people squatting on tiny plastic chairs created a special vibe. There’s a certain type of energy in that claustrophobic lifestyle.
On food: the cuisine was about what I expected it to be. I ate rice almost everyday. I ate parts of animals that I don’t want to know more details about. Some meals almost forced me into vegetarianism. Chicken feet aren’t great. Shrimp sauce is even worse. But the pho was right. “Bread’ aka banh mis became my go-to delicious and cheap option (65¢ a piece).
The people are friendly and emotional. The amount of times I heard “show me your smile…” From what I’ve gathered, they love quickly and deeply. Overall, they seem busy and motivated yet happy. Also, the women are beautiful. But that could just be my new thing.
There’s history everywhere. I feel like every place Jorge and I went on our tour used to be the country’s capital at some point. Temples, dynasties, and wars. I felt like I was staring into the past in some places. The natural palette of brown rivers accompanying muted black limestone mountains and deep green rice fields created an ancient ambiance. Don’t worry, though. There are some developing, modern places that, when finished, will provide quite the contrast. I’ll probably stick to nature regardless.
So, the people, the food, the scenery and the affordability are a worthwhile combination that will beckon me back. When? I don’t know yet, but probably not soon enough.
By the Numbers
Days in Vietnam: 65 Days Teaching: 40 Schools Taught At: 5 Teaching Salary: 19,642,000 VND Days of Tour: 11 Temples Visited: 12 Boat Rides: 7 VND Spent: ~41,319,325 USD Spent: ~$1,781.98 (Avg conversion rate of roughly 23187.26) Net Spend: ~$934.88
For those interested in visiting one day, here’s a list of where I went and how I ranked stuff: (click the top left button of the map to expand the list view)
Favorite Places: 1. Saigon 2. Hoi An 3. Hanoi 4. Halong Bay 5. Hue
Lastly, below is my “best of” album. This country has a lot more to offer than what I captured but hopefully I’ll be back when I’m a bit more advanced in my photography skills.
Ten days around Vietnam with one of my oldest friends? Lock it in!
Me and my buddy Jorge have been talking about Southeast Asia as a travel destination for maybe 10 years at this point. It feels like forever. That’s why this trip was such a delight. It was a friend reunion, it was a travel reunion, and on a much less significant note, I was with someone that fully understood me the whole time. Let’s call it a success on every level.
Both of us are laid back and flexible, which is a combination that makes for an easy travel mate. The only time it really became an issue was when we were looking for food. The openness turned into indecision as we made several laps around a city before settling for a banh mi. So many banh mis. Which isn’t a negative thing because they’re the perfect meal — tasty, fast and cheap. If I had to summarize our trip into as few words as possible it would be banh mis, balloons, and the feeve. Details I will touch on later. The amount of fun/terror we had crossing the road should also get a mention.
Since we did an organized tour, the majority of our days were mapped out and we didn’t have to worry about the headache of transportation to and from. Vietnam is country that’s long but narrow, with a lot of distance between the main hotspots In the north (Hanoi) and the south (Ho Chi Minh City) — about 1000 miles. Having our route pre-planned helped us optimize the amount we were able to see and do. And it also gave us an opportunity to get a few in-transit naps.
We had 3 different tour guides based on the regions we were in. It was interesting because they all had wildly different interpretations of Vietnam’s history and culture.
In the North, Hung was a mid-20s guy with somewhat rough English skills. He wasn’t as knowledgeable as the others and was open about his admiration for Ho Chi Minh. He was a super nice guy and hardworking so it’s hard to knock him.
In the center of the country, we had Huy, who was a 35 year old rubber tree farmer that looked 50. He had facts and figures out the ass which were sometimes a lot to take in. Over the three days we were with him, we were exposed to his unique perspective on gender dynamics. A very conservative viewpoint. “Vietnamese women…very soft, very nice.” To boil it down, he believed that a woman’s duty was to serve the man, if we saw a female drinking she was a prostitute and that having 10 daughters was like having no children. Quite a harsh outlook, but I suppose it’s common for people from a small country village to believe that. I mean, they still give 3-5 cows as a dowry…a rating system that Jorge and I started using much too late in the trip.
Lastly, in the south we had Hai. He was over 60 and came of age one year after the war ended. As he was from Saigon, he was very liberal and direct. He seemed pretty disillusioned with the revolution and told us a story that painted the rest of his countrymen as prejudiced toward southerners.
The discrepancies are kind of surprising. And when we tried to ask one of them to validate the opinions of the other, they came nowhere close. The lack of consensus is a little puzzling. Even though beliefs can vary widely in the US based on region, I feel like we still generally agree that people from the south are hospitable but conservative, people from the north are more liberal and people from the west coast are completely free-spirited. Am I wrong about that?
Regardless, what Jorge and I observed seemed to align the most with Hai, whether accurate or not. Everyone in the north did appear relatively liberal, but money-motivated. The population in the central carried themselves with a more formal, stereotypical attitude and appearance. And those in the south, at least in Saigon, mirrored other major cities in being open-minded and embracing the taboo/experimental.
Ok. Phew. Now that the cultural pseudo-summary is done, I’ll get into our itinerary. I’m not going to go beat by beat with analysis over the whole 10 days because no one has that much time. But I’ll hit the highlights.
Day 1. Welcome to Asia, Jorge!
After 20 some hours of travel, I met Jorge on the street in Hanoi’s Old Quarter around 11am. This was my third time in Hanoi, so I was relatively familiar with the layout. We had a free day to walk around and explore.
We started with lunch, did some wandering, went down train street, found a brewery, initiated Jorge into the egg coffee community, and joined the squat gang by eating some pho on the street whilst sitting on tiny plastic chairs.
Day 2. The Sites of Hanoi
We met Hung in the morning and visited the Ho Chi Minh Mausoleum, Presidential Palace, One Pillar Pagoda and the Temple of Literature.
Unfortunately the interior of the Mausoleum was closed, so we didn’t get to see HCM’s entombed body. I’m guessing that would’ve been kind of weird anyway. We did get to see his old country style house and a few old cars.
The Temple of Literature is on their 100,000d note, so I tried to replicate that image.
We had lunch, checked out the Museum of Ethnology, and then walked around the Hoan Kiem Lake. Then we took a cyclo ride through the busy streets of the Old Quarter which was a fun way to see the city.
That night, we started with some drinks in a dive bar then walked around the night market. We witnessed a vendor get her entire fruit tray taken by the police. And then we did a bit more squat ganging for beer and a balloon (I wrote about this previously in my Hanoi post).
Day 3. Rice Fields and River Views
Departing Hanoi, we had a two hour drive to the Ninh Binh province. The first stop was Hoa Lu, which was the ancient capital, I want to say in the 11th century or something. We got to pet a friendly water buffalo. Then we had a delicious lunch in a garden where they just kept bringing plate after plate of food.
The marquee activity of the day was a boat ride down the Ngo Dong River in Tam Coc. A quaint row of buildings lined a river cul de sac where there were a million boats stacked on top of one another. There were many other tourists on the river at the same time but the scenery was stunning. It was a pretty long trip that took us through a few short caves. Our skipper rowed almost the entire way with his feet as well.
From there we went to a place called Mua Caves and climbed 300 steps to have an epic view of the surrounding area. Confused as to how a cave equates to a viewpoint, but who’s counting? (Semantics)
Our accommodation that night was a cozy resort in the middle of some desolate rice fields. This is when Jorge had the realization that the way he enjoys traveling is different now. Adulthood. Resort life. Cocktails by the pool. Relaxation. Good fortune.
Day 4. A Blue Sky in Halong Bay
We were picked up and driven another two hours to a port in Hai Phong where we caught our overnight cruise ship. We stocked up on some scotch and beer to bring along.
After a decent buffet lunch, and an introduction to the boat’s very attractive customer care specialist (I have developed a slightly uncontrollable appreciation for Asian beauties and I’m sorry but the only term to properly describe it is “feeve”), it was all deck time sailing amongst the gorgeous limestone islands. The sun came out and the constant overcast blanket I was used to dispersed to reveal a blue sky. My first in Vietnam. No joke. It only took a month.
Everyone aboard went on a small bamboo boat trip, deeper into the bay, through the “light and dark” caves. There was some free time for swimming which we used to drink outside and soak up the sea breeze. We had a few cocktails during sunset and enjoyed a pleasant dinner. We chatted with a honeymooning couple from Tennessee, a family from Indonesia and two female travelers from Switzerland. There was night time squid fishing which was pretty fruitless — they gave us baitless hooks. When everyone went to bed, I stayed on deck to have a solo beer and got corralled into helping one of the crew members learn English.
Day 5. All Kinds of Movement
We greeted the day with a very early morning Tai Chi session. The instructor moved quickly and I’m still uncertain what our bodies were supposed to be doing there. Ill-coordinated and fatigued.
After a light breakfast, we kayaked around an old fishing village. There were several communities living out in the bay until a year or two ago when the government forced them back on land to help preserve the environment.
Watching “the gaggle” of Malaysian tourists try to kayak was entertaining. There was one boat of two ladies that I don’t think made it 10 yards away from the dock.
Unfortunately the weather wasn’t as solid as the day before, but kayaking is kayaking. Always a pleasure to be out on the water.
During lunch (at 10:30am), there was a traditional music performance from a crew member named Mr. Happy.
By the time that was over, we were back at port and meeting up with our driver for another two hour ride to the Hanoi airport. We busted out the Priority Pass to lounge it up until our flight to Da Nang.
So basically there was a lot of transportation time before we arrived in Hoi An.
Immediately, there was a special vibe. The lantern city has a lovely feel with the architecture, cozy streets and colorful river banks.
Jorge and I met up with two travelers I roomed with in Bali and had some beers and a stroll. We also got to release some paper lanterns off the main bridge that connects the new and old parts of the city. I made a wish, but I’ll never tell.
Day 6. Yellow Buildings and Green Gardens
Huy met us at our hotel with bikes that we rode around Hoi An.
First, we stopped at a silk factory where they were making all kinds of things by hand. Jorge and I passed on the opportunity to have a custom-tailored suit. We also did not purchase any hand-threaded paintings, but they looked really sweet.
Next we visited the Japanese covered bridge, the folk museum, the Chinese Assembly Hall, an ancient house (that gets flooded almost every year), and a theatre where we watched an art performance.
From there, we rode outside the city, along beautiful rice fields, to a farm in the village of Tra Que. There, we had a brief cooking lesson on making rice pancakes (2 for 2 on the toss and catch) and ate them for lunch. We got our first taste of a Vietnamese foot massage as well, which was a game changer.
After a brief stroll through the well-kept gardens, we rode our bikes back to the city.
Jorge and I ditched Huy and continued on the bikes ourselves to discover more of Hoi An. We circled back to our favorite Happy Hour spot where it seemed you could always get a large bottle of Bia Saigon for 15,000d aka 65¢. We circumnavigated the city a few and were close to calling it a night but stopped back at the bar one more time because it was only 8:30pm.
We ended up chatting with two British girls who sat next to us. When all the reputable establishments closed at 10pm (normal for most places in Vietnam), the group ventured over to the cringeworthy Mr. Bean bar to continue the evening. That’s right. It was a Mr. Bean-themed bar. Terrible. A few more rounds and onto another bar. The girls glommed onto some other people so we got some balloons and watched a guy pull his scooter out of the river. Lolz.
Day 7. Are We in North Korea?
The main goal of this day was to see The Golden Bridge, which has become a popular tourist destination since opening last year. And because Instagram.
It was in an amusement park just outside of Da Nang, the Ba Na Hills Sun World. Crazy place.
We took a cable car up to the top of the “hill” which basically opened up into a fake European village. There were castles, cathedrals, and alleys and shops that made you feel like you were in Europe. But at the same time, everything was just a facade. There were games, rides and entertainers mixed in among these buildings that seemed to be made of plastic and styrofoam. It was very much an over-the-top setting without much substance. A beautiful storefront with nothing behind the curtain. And there was still sooo much under construction.
Thankfully, the main attraction delivered. The Golden Bridge, even though the hands were just textured to look like stone, was sweet. It curved out onto the edge of the mountain so you felt suspended in nature. While the park as a whole was full of tourists, we got somewhat lucky that the bridge was only mildly crowded when we were on it.
Initially, Jorge and I were feeling pretty confident about speeding through this place. In the end, I would’ve actually preferred more time to delve deeper into the nooks and crannies of this so called Sun World. There were so many things to investigate…and look behind.
On the way out of there, we took the scenic route over a mountain pass to reach Hue. We dropped our bags in our room and roamed the streets. At first, we went the complete wrong way, but had a nice walk by the river. Once we found the main area of the city, we did a few laps and settled on a place to have dinner, which ended up being the best meal of the trip. There were Vietnamese women around us that were drinking. Hookers.
Not really.
Day 8. Imperial and Forbidden
Our Hue city tour began with a walk around the Thien Mu Pagoda. There was another gaggle, this time of uniformed Vietnamese tourists that asked for a picture with me and Jorge. We were the tokens.
We took a dragon boat ride back down the Perfume River. With the entire boat to ourselves, it was awkward not buying any souvenirs from the persistent wife of the captain. A vicious cycle of items being held up and “No thank yous.”
Upon disembarking, we had a short walk over to the Imperial City, the former capital of Vietnam that is now basically a walled community. There were several buildings surrounded by halls, water features, and plants in bloom. Inside the Imperial City, separated by beautifully ornate gates, is the Forbidden City, which is where the King and his family lived. We got to see the ruins that housed the 5 wives and over 200 concubines. Every night, the King would apparently spend time with 5 different women for one hour each. He had a eunuch organizing his social calendar and reminding him of their names. The information that sticks with you…
We broke the confines for lunch, visited the Tu Duc tomb which was an entire compound, and then quickly passed through the market before being dropped off at the airport.
it was very much a small domestic airport, so no lounge situation. But eventually we boarded and had a quick plane ride to Saigon.
Side note — Jorge and I strictly refer to it as Saigon because 1) it sounds cooler than Ho Chi Minh City 2) the word was outlawed for 20 years after the city fell in 1975 and 3) that’s the beer we drank the most so…it’s gotta be Saigon.
Checking into our no-frills AirBnb was uneventful. It was a completely different story when we got out into the night life and found the main walking street.
It was an assault on the senses. There were tourists and locals everywhere. Shop after shop had tables and small chairs spilling out into the street, occupied by curious eaters and drinkers. There were children breathing fire amid various other street performers, wardrobe-sized speakers every 20 feet blaring awful karaoke, and mobile food vendors peddling additional flavors of the south. On our first pass through this exotic corridor of madness, we were accosted by some gorgeous women (feeve) trying to drag us into their massage parlors. Literally. we had to peel tightly-grasped fingers off of our arms. A few overwhelming laps later, we found a squat gang with suitable beer prices and set up shop to people watch. Honestly, I would’ve been fine if those were the only sights we saw the whole time we were there.
Day 9. Stepping into Apocalypse Now
In the morning, we piled into a car and drove out to the Mekong Delta in the Ben Tre province. We boarded a small boat that took us around to typical workplaces like a small brick factory and a coconut processing plant. Floating our way through the picturesque canals was a realistic embodiment of every Vietnam War movie you’ve ever seen — jungle-esque greenery lining a brown river under a beaming sun and a blue sky with puffy white clouds scattered about. This was, after all, the land of the “long-haired army,” where large numbers of women had joined the fight and it was next to impossible to discern between a villager and a VC. Thankfully, there was no gunfire to disrupt the serenity.
We walked through a small village, briefly stopped at a cacao stand (feeve x2), and visited a mat-weaving house. Then we climbed into a xe-lôi (a kind of motorized rickshaw) and were taken to a quaint lunch spot tucked back into the trees. Pan-fried fish, peeled off the bone. Delicious.
Finally, we hopped into a sampan for another peaceful trip on the water. Eventually, we made it back to our car and into the city.
For some extra adventure, we explored farther into District 1 that night. We ate at the Ben Tranh Street Food Market and found an awesome rooftop bar that was practically empty. As the night crept on, there was a gravitational pull back to the craziness of backpackers street, so we claimed two more chairs at our usual spot and enjoyed a few rounds of beers as the scene unfolded around us. Funky balloon.
Day 10. Biting the Bullet in Saigon
A typical day of sightseeing on one of the hottest days of the trip. For some reason, we started with a meal of hot ass soup at an underground food court too.
After perusing the market, we went to the War Remnants Museum. Most of the exhibits were pretty depressing, particularly the War Crimes room, and the museum left something to be desired in terms of the overall experience.
Needing a pick-us-up, we cruised by the Reunification Palace, Norte Dame Cathedral and Post Office. We also wandered around three of the prominent streets, Nguyen Hue Le Loi, and Dong Khoi before finding a solid watering hole with craft ales. Then we bounced between two other rooftop bars to get different views of the cityscape and watch the sunset.
After ample rounds of cocktails, we decided to be bold and take Grab bikes back to our accommodation. Considering how wild the traffic was, it felt like a mandatory activity. Don’t worry, Mom, they gave us helmets.
Safe and showered, we snagged dinner from a very local spot on the corner of our street. Then it was time for a final hoorah. Another foray into the wonderful chaos. It’s a predictable story — squat gang, a balloon, and some beers on backpacker street.
During a trip down a miscellaneous alley, we accidentally entered the gauntlet. We got smothered by what seemed like 10 girls. It was at least 6. But who can be sure? In that moment, it was impossible to resist their charm and perseverance. A massage felt earned after the whirlwind trip anyway. Plus, it seemed like another piece of the “quintessential Asian experiences” puzzle. In the end, the massage was just ok. And, of course, I ended up paying more than necessary because you kind of lose track of currency exchange in the presence of beauty. I guess it’s not really a scam. Or is it the oldest scam in the book?
What can I say? Saigon. Feeve.
There was obviously a late-night banh mi to cap off the evening too. The most fitting way to end the trip.
The next day we killed off the morning by packing, eating and sharing some of the photos we’d taken. We hung out at the airport until we had to part ways for opposite terminals.
All in all, I think we had the best time on the nature legs of the journey. Boating in Ninh Banh, Halong Bay and the Mekong Delta was special. The allure of Hoi An was also a big highlight for me. The only drawback is that the activity list seemed a little short there. In contrast, even though I’m not a big city person, I loved the energy of Saigon and think we barely scratched the surface of what there is to do there. I wouldn’t mind spending a full week there, but I might have to be pried out of a small plastic chair somewhere between Hair of the Dog and The Dragon Pub.
Even though the 10 days flew by, we definitely crushed our itinerary. Trust me, we’ve got the pictures to prove it. I can’t wait to do it again in another part of the world. Or maybe we’ll just have to come back to relive some of the glory and tackle the places we didn’t get to discover.
The wind on my face as I stepped out of the airport was brisk. I was not expecting chilly weather in Vietnam, albeit I didn’t research what season it was. After 18 hours of overnight travel, with little sleep (even though I took advantage of two lounge visits in the epic Singapore airport), it felt necessary.
I caught a public bus to the city because it was the cheapest option. I was rolling the dice on navigating to my hostel without internet but it seemed like a good time for an adventure.
The Backpackers I reserved was in the Old Quarter of Hanoi. Walking the narrow streets at dusk was a treat. There was so much vibrancy in the hustle and bustle of the city. The roads were narrow without feeling claustrophobic. The colors illuminated silhouettes of passersby. I was obviously digging the vibe of the place.
The route to my accommodation was pretty easy so I found it in no time. I checked in without issue and quickly rid myself of all the bags. I made my way downstairs to figure out what the hell I was going to do in Hanoi and hopefully meet some people.
Success.
It was happy hour at the in-house bar which meant free beer “until it ran out.” While in line, I met a young German vagabond named Insa. In this case, as with the rest of my run-ins with the Deutsche, I was happy to make a new friend. We got a few rounds of free brews and then ventured off to find a tasty dinner.
We were spoiled for options in our location which added a few minutes to the decision-making process. Finally, we landed on a random hole in the wall that had some locals scattered about; that made it seem more promising. After we ordered way too much food, we were satisfied with our choice. Unsurprisingly, I had high expectations for Vietnamese cuisine and we were off to a good start.
Feeling stuffed, Insa and I headed back to the hostel to hang out. People were gathered outside so we acquired some beverages and joined. The rest of the night consisted of several trips to the adjacent convenient store to replenish our beer supply. There was also a person set up across the street selling beer for 5,000 dong aka incredibly cheap. It was a popular spot because of the price. I was told it was unfiltered beer and would make you shit a lot the more you drank. That didn’t stop me from having a couple. One guy in the group was pounding them, so if anything I figured there would be somebody worse off than me.
I literally just remembered that we also went to a bar around the corner at some point during the night. It was a really weird experience because when we got there many of the dudes were shirtless. There were also several people with balloons, inhaling the helium. I’m not sure if you call that “doing balloons” or what but it was happening. Apparently if you do it quick enough you can have a 15-30 second hallucination. Wouldn’t know. I didn’t partake in those shenanigans. We ripped a few songs on the dance floor before retiring for the evening.
Another free bonus the hostel offered was breakfast. Neither of the options were all that much grub but it got you to lunch alright.
After finishing my food, Insa surfaced just in time to catch the free walking tour of the city. The amenities just kept adding up for this place. Our guide was Vietnamese but he was so soft spoken that I couldn’t hear him from 5ft away so I figured it was a lost cause trying to listen to anything he was going to say.
I kept to the back of the group as we wound our way through a temple and some markets to Train St. We also quickly breezed through Dog St. — quite literally named from the fried dogs for sale. And I don’t mean like a fried hot dog. I mean an actual dog. I kid you not. There were several crispy canine skewers to choose from. It was upsetting. I think they were all the same breed.; looked like Santa’s Little Helper from The Simpsons — but like after being on a spit for just the right amount of time to look sort of appetizing. No one in the group was interested in trying them.
It took me a few minutes to get over what I thought was a ridiculous, manufactured stereotype. Turns out…shit.
Other stops on the tour consisted of a lake that had an island temple, a theatre where Insa and I bought tickets for a traditional water puppet show, and a boutique coffee shop where people tried the well-known egg coffee. I didn’t know that was a thing and was just a passenger as others drank their frothy concoction.
Everybody parted ways after that. Me and a group of 3 went to enjoy some more Vietnamese fare. Pho for the win. Cheap, delicious and a good sized portion.
With the rest of the afternoon at my disposal, I took a brief chill in the hostel’s lounge before heading back out into the city to explore some more.
My arrival in Hanoi somehow lined up with a peace summit involving Trump and Kim Jong Un. Very odd. They were amping up security and preparing certain areas to be closed off so that was interesting I guess. I mean, not really but whatever. Other travelers were stoked for some reason. I got caught behind a street closure the following night with a small group of guys as we were wandering around. I snapped some shots of the uniformed officers manning the barricades. US and North Korean flags were passed around for the bystanders to wave as the presidential motorcades went by. It was a lot of unnecessary hoopla for a few cars driving passed. And it also put me behind for the water puppet show.
I had to hustle back to the hostel to change and meet Insa. We had to rush to a nearby restaurant to snag dinner and it ended up being the best meal in Hanoi. Bun cha is some kind of delicious street food that I’ll be having more of soon.
We made it just in time for the start of the show. Describing it is somewhat difficult. There were medium-sized puppets in water being animated by long staffs while a few people in traditional garb played appropriate music and sang/voiced the narrative. It was all in Vietnamese, so it was a bit tough to follow the story. But there were a lot of fish and farmers so it seemed to be about the cycle of the harvest and what role nature plays in that. Maybe? I think the concept of a water puppet show in general was more interesting than the actual display itself but I’m still glad I went.
That was the last notable thing I did in Hanoi. Insa and I had a casual night walking the streets back to the accommodation.
A group of ridiculously loud girls woke everybody in our room up at 5:30am the next morning with their packing and giggling about the nights conquests. Somehow I fell back asleep and woke up to an empty room. I repacked my things and caught a local shuttle to Halong Bay where I’ll be stationed for the next month+ teaching English at a Workaway.
I’m excited at the prospect of settling somewhere for an extended period of time, getting to know the place and developing a routine. Based on my correspondence, my host and living situation are supposed to be pretty epic as well.
Vietnam is turning out to be a pretty righteous place. But I suppose that’s not much of a surprise.
A harbor in Bali is really a beach with a few tents and some small boats moored to the shore. That’s what I found out when I showed up to catch a lift to Nusa Lembongan.
As a brief geography lesson, there are 3 islands to the east of mainland Bali: Lembongan (closest), Ceningan (smallest), and Penida (largest).
After a while of waiting, the cruise over to the island was just 30 minutes. Pulling into Jungut Batu was beautiful. It was a clear day, there was blue, blue water and a cliff with embedded houses overlooking the bay. I boarded a shuttle that took me to my accommodation on the other side of the island. Well, it was really more of a small truck with two benches in the bed, but it did the trick.
Garden Cottage #1
The harbor area was much busier with people, shops, and restaurants than where I was staying. The southwest corner of the island was much more desolate and felt spread out. I think there were only 6 other people staying at my place, if that, and I saw them very fleetingly. It felt like I had the whole cottage, pool and restaurant to myself.
Unsurprising news flash: Bali is hot. I went for a walk to find lunch and see some sights. I hit the nearby hotspots of Dream Beach, Devil’s Tear, Mushroom Beach and then Sunset Point to end the evening. On the way to the last stop i met a retired American couple who were long term traveling. They told me about their plans for the upcoming months and clued me into something called The Great Loop which is a sailing journey through the eastern seaboard waters of the US and Canada. They did it over the course of 2017 and had awesome things to say about it. Sounds like a worthwhile future endeavor.
Sunset Point
Once the sun dipped beyond the horizon, we parted ways and I returned to my hostel.
Subsequent unsurprising news flash: I’ve sweat through every article of clothing multiple times at this point. Laundry is in dire need.
The next morning I was up at 6:30am to get ready for a snorkeling trip. I grabbed a quick breakfast and hitched a scooter ride to the harbor. This dude comfortably did 40+km/hr while weaving around people with me on the back holding on for dear life. Nice.
There was a group of about 20 people of varying ages and nationalities on board the boat for the snorkel trip. The skipper’s English was limited and he had a no-nonsense attitude but it worked out.
Our first location was Manta Bay off the south coast of Nusa Penida. It’s a popular spot for…you guessed it, manta rays. There were several snorkelers already in the water and the captains of the boats were yelling to each other where the rays were so everybody was encouraged to get in quickly.
I hopped in and immediately saw one about 30ft below. Several people were freediving down to get a closer look. I tried that as well but could only go so deep. I’m not sure if we saw two in total or just the same one in different spots but it was sweet.
The people on my boat re-boarded after just a few minutes in the water so we moved onto our next spot which pretty fast. At Crystal Bay there was some deece soft coral in with relatively vibrant fish activity. It was also quite shallow in areas so I was able to dip down and get a cool perspective right above the reef.
I was the last one back in the boat again as we shipped off to our last destination. This one wasn’t in the shelter of a bay so the current was quite strong. It was another shallow spot though with harder, less colorful coral. There were still some alright fish and shapes but it was a slightly anticlimactic way to end the day.
By the time we were back to land and I grabbed a ride to the hostel, it was only 1pm. With so much of the day still left, I decided to hire a scooter for myself and see areas of the island I hadn’t yet.
My Chariot
I honestly can’t recall if I’ve ever taken a scooter or similar vehicle for a spin. If I have, it’s been ages so it was basically a whole new experience. The controls are simple enough, but balance and road etiquette were the two things I had to get up to speed on. Luckily, there are basically no rules required to drive in Bali so that part was easy. I mean you drive on the left and you honk when you’re overtaking someone or going around a blind corner, but that’s about it.
It took a little bit of getting used to but no major mishaps thankfully. Don’t worry, Mom, I wore a helmet just in case. Pretty sure I stood out like the n00b I was, but since I’m accident prone, I figured it was the safer call.
I drove around the island twice, stopping at Panorama Point, the mangrove forest and Yellow Bridge, which connects Lembongan to Ceningan. Cruising along the southwestern coast offered some pretty killer views of the other two islands while the tide was retracting.
For dinner, I scooted on back to Jungut Batu to meet up with some people from the backpacking Facebook group. We were discussing pooling together to do a day trip around Nusa Penida in the following days so thought it was a good opportunity to meet beforehand. Sarah and Alina, two young, pretty and chipper ladies from Germany, were at a nice cafe next to the beach. We ate and connected quickly over random conversation as dusk transitioned into a proper night sky.
We still had details to sort out, but from a personality standpoint it was a solid match. They went back to their guesthouse and I found a random sports bar to watch the Tottenham game. There were actually a few other fans there and it ended in a solid victory so that was a positive note.
The last act of the day was a late night scooter ride back to my hostel. It wasn’t too eventful which was good. The only thing I had to watch out for were bugs and stray dogs trying to bite my ankles on the way by.
Success. Not a scratch to myself or the motorbike. Mission accomplished. I could get used to this.
In the morning, I got a very generous free ride down to Yellow Bridge where I caught the public boat over to Nusa Penida.
Yellow Bridge #3
It only took around 15 minutes and I reached my bungalow after a brief taxi ride.
I thought I booked a place with a decent amount of stuff going on around it. I walked around the area to find that wasn’t really the case. There were maybe a handful of restaurants but that was about it.
Thankfully, my place had its own kitchen and offered live music every night. It also seemed like I had a solid room of people. The first person I met was an attractive and kind Dutch gal named Joyce. We shared a few travel stories and upcoming plans with each other. She was getting over Typhoid Fever. Intense! Kind of coincidental because I totally forgot about taking those pills until two weeks prior. Anyhow, i invited her along on the Penida day tour and made the final arrangements in booking a driver and the remaining details.
Penida Colada Sunset
As happy hour approached, I decided to check out a bar I’d seen recommendations for — Penida Colada. How clever. It was a prime spot on the water and even though it was north facing, we still got a gorgeous hint of colors from the sunset. I was definitely grinning while I finished my 2 for 1 cocktails.
I returned to the hostel and joined a few of my other roommates for dinner and drinks while the band began to play. The basic outfit of singer/guitarist, bassist and box drummer crushed it. The guys voice was smooth as hell. It’s always funny to listen to a non-English speaker sing in a perfect American accent.
My alcohol hiatus obviously came to an end. I may have had one too many Bintangs over the course of the night but it didn’t turn into anything outlandish.
That being said, I woke up early nursing a mild hang. I had to meet our driver and go to the harbor to pick up Joyce, Sarah, Alina and new addition, Maaike, before we got the day underway.
If you’re wondering why we needed a driver, the reason is the condition of the roads. The main part of the island has paved roads, with lane markings even — something I barely even saw on the mainland — outside of that though, as in on the way to the attractions we were visiting, they became a shit show. Steep and rough terrain with some of the most uneven grade and biggest potholes I’ve ever seen. I’m honestly not sure how even the most experience motorbike driver was able to navigate those “roads” but I’m glad I didn’t try it myself. There were many, many stories of daily tourist accidents.
Apart from the lovely scenery of the European ladies I was with, there was also some nature to look at.
We wound our way to Angel’s Billabong, Broken Beach, the Kelingking Cliff viewpoint and Crystal Bay Beach with a stop for lunch thrown in there.
The vastness of these sites doesn’t really come through in photos. Kelingking Cliff (second pic above) was particularly dramatic. I’m not sure exactly how high the lookout was, but the people on the beach below were just specks.
Penida Tour Group
Again, it was a hot ass day. Our last stop gave us an opportunity to cool off with a much needed dip in the water. Totally refreshing.
It ended up being a super chill group and a pleasant day of touring around. Joyce and I dropped the girls off back at the harbor and began a mission of finding a fairly priced boat to take us to Lombok since we were both continuing our travels there soon. Bargaining proved to be difficult. We got stonewalled by two guys that claimed it was a fixed price so we shelved that for the time being.
That wasn’t the only thing to rain on our parade. An actual storm moved in. We waited it out under an awning since the scooter she rented was about to turn up anyway.
In chatting, she told me she was going on a dive the following day and that I should join. Diving was something I strongly considered doing in Asia, partially because it’s supposed to be good but also really cheap comparatively. Her shop was on the way back to our hostel so we stopped in for me to get some more info.
The owner of the shop agreed to accommodate me on such short notice and I was given a little bit of homework to study before returning early the next morning to knock out the introductory skills.
I think Joyce was more excited than I was about it. That’s not to say I wasn’t, but for some reason I just had no expectations at all about the experience. She was already open water certified so she just had a better idea of what was in store for us.
That night we got dinner together and bonded over a talk about personal development and our motivations to travel. This might’ve been the best conversation I’ve had across my entire trip. It felt special to share such a similar perspective with someone who I otherwise wouldn’t have ever met.
Me & Joyce Pre-Dive
In the morning she was nice enough to drop me at the dive center. Jason was the owner and my instructor/guide for the day. In a pool, he walked me through the 4 procedures I had to pass to be able to do the real thing. It only took a few minutes because apparently I knocked it out. I’ve heard it takes a while to get used to breathing through the regulator underwater. At this point with all the snorkeling I’ve done, I feel well-adapted to keeping my head below the surface for hours.
Since that was such a breeze, I basically hung out for an hour to wait for everybody else to arrive. Once it was time, we grabbed all of the necessary equipment and were transported to the boat.
The first dive site was Manta Bay. Familiar territory. This was an awesome opportunity to see manta rays up close and personal.
Me, Jason and Joyce were all paired together, with Jason keeping a close eye on me. The first descent was a slow process. I had a lot of trouble with my ears equalizing. That was the thing I was most focused on for the first dive but didn’t encounter any other issues. It wasn’t necessarily a very scenic site and we were actually unlucky to not see any mantas while we were below the surface.
Eventually, my air supply got to 50 bar and that meant it was time to head back up. Once we got above the water and could talk, Jason said it had been an hour and that was one of the longest dives he’s done in a long time. He was very complimentary of my air consumption and body position. Said that I was super relaxed and communicated well with the hand signals and everything. Excellent to have a knack for such a unique activity.
The only bummer was no mantas. We climbed back into the boat and stripped our tanks off. Jason was actually frustrated by the lack of mantas as well so he said we would stick around for a little bit. There were some other boats there with people snorkeling and that gave us a bead on one. Joyce and I jumped in with just snorkeling gear to go see. Boom. There was a massive one effortlessly gliding through the water. It was deep down again but must’ve been at least as big as my wingspan. We followed it for a little bit and then got back on the vessel.
We cruised over to Crystal Bay, another familiar spot and moored up. Everybody ate a little lunch before getting ready to head in for the second dive. I had a lot of water in my ears so was curious how equalizing would be this time around.
The 3 of us got in and used the anchor line to help us descend. It was an easier time getting down to depth.
I had my GoPro with me, but I didn’t have an underwater case. It’s only operable up to 10m aka 30ft before the water pressure makes the buttons unpressable. I started recording a video before we reached that level but once we got there, it was out of my control. I thought it shut off so I stopped caring about it for a bit. We saw a moray eel in some coral getting its teeth cleaned by a smaller fish. I didn’t even try to capture it. Then we saw a Hawksbill turtle grubbing on something in the coral. I saw a red light flashing on the camera so had Jason take it and really get in there. The GoPro turned itself on photo time lapse mode, which I found out later, but at least it was capturing something. For the rest of the dive I was using it as if it was recording video. I’m happy it continued getting images because some of them are epic (even if I had to sort through 2000+ pics).
This dive was much more memorable. There was substantially better coral and marine life. Plus I had less trouble with the equalization so was able to really have a good look around. It was almost another hour long dive before we were back top side.
I felt good about what we saw while we were still on the boat but I’m even more stoked now looking at the photos. Joyce and I both considered extending our stays on Penida just to dive again in those areas. I’m really interested in doing an open water certification but even though it’s cheaper here, it’s probably too cost prohibitive to my overall trip fund.
Back on land, we had most of the afternoon to decompress and relax. Joyce and I ended up having another awesome talk over dinner, maybe even better than the previous night. Then, we went back to the hostel to pack our things to leave the next morning.
We didn’t have a ton of information, but we were planning to catch a slow ferry to Padang Bai (a port on Bali) and from there another ferry to Lombok. It was the cheapest option but also between 7-9 hours of travel.
Whatever it takes to keep some coin in the travel coffers.
It’s safe to say i spoiled myself very early on. Spoiled, not soiled. I clarified that in the last post.
The hostel we were staying at in Ubud wasn’t ticking the boxes as nicely as Kosone. It was an ok place and the staff was friendly but it was nowhere near as fresh or swank.
After checking in, myself, Julian and Nanne got lunch at the attached restaurant and brainstormed our plan.
There were many many things to see and do around Ubud. To start with, there was a sacred monkey forest within walking distance so that was first on the list. I’d also read a random article about a sound healing at some pyramids. I wasn’t sure exactly what that meant, but there happened to be one later that night. Nanne apparently had some hippie tendencies so she was excited. We booked it and then hoofed it.
Monkeys on monkeys on monkeys. As we approached the entrance to the forest, there was one monkey breaking the confines of the jungle. He was out on the street scoping out some goods at the shops. Him and a stray dog started to get fiesty with one another which was free entertainment.
Inside the forest, they were everywhere. They were cute, they were crafty, and they were on the prowl for snacks. I share one of those traits. I, too, like snacks. Anyway, I heard of a guy getting his glasses stolen by a monkey on his first day in Bali. Hilarious. I could see it (no pun). On multiple occasions, I witnessed a little monk climb up someone’s back and start to open their bag. The bastards knew how to operate zippers. I went in prepared with a luggage lock. Suckers. There was a moment where I felt a tug on my backpack, but I think it saw the deterrent and scurried away. You deviant.
It was wild to see them running around and swinging amongst the branches. I mean the place was filthy with em. They came in many sizes, colors and orientations. There were a few families with adorable babies that wrestled on the ground. There were some pals helping each other with their hygiene. And there were also some wiser oldies mean-mugging people as they passed.
We didn’t have all that much time to admire the wee primates because we had to snag a lift over to the Pyramids of Chi for the main event of the evening.
The Pyramids of Chi
After haggling with a local taxi driver over the price of a ride, we pulled up to the site. Nobody seemed to know about the establishment but when we got there it was quite nice. The owners certainly had money. I was trying to remain spiritually open in anticipation of the ceremony, yet in the back of my mind I was very curious if the whole thing was a clever money grab — taking advantage of all the westerners visiting the zen center of Bali.
There was a group of 25-30 people all together. The order of events was a sacred cacao ceremony followed by the sound healing. It was supposed to be 3 hours of meditation, relaxation and body attunement. I’ve done yoga before, but nothing to this degree.
We were greeted by one of our two leaders. He looked like an actor I’m having trouble placing at the moment. A salt and pepper guy that spoke into the microphone so lowly that we could’ve heard him better without it.
Once the indiscernible briefing was over, we were ushered over to the Pyramid of the Sun. Everyone got a sage cleansing before entering and then took a seat on pillows that formed a circle. We did a lot of breathing, chanting, and saluting directions. We invited spirits in, gave thanks, and drank the sacred cacao — a mixture of chocolate, ginger, cayenne and lemon or something. I know what you’re thinking…no, it was not hallucinogenic. Unfortunately. Shortly after drinking it, we did do an ecstatic dance that had people crying, yipping and flailing to and fro. So maybe it had some sort of fun properties but I don’t think so.
Like I said before, I was doing my best to remain open minded. I did my best to stay in the moment and not worry about the people around me. But, I couldn’t ignore my eyes. I guess these people were just more spiritual than me. Or, at the very minimum, more affected by the ceremony. Maybe practice makes perfect — like sports or whatever. I did bust loose during the dance and let the music control me. I think the majority of the moves were already in my repertoire, but it happened.
After the movement exercise, we were instructed to have unrelenting eye contact with the first person we connected to. It happened to be me and Julian “getting vulnerable” with one another. We then sat knee to knee and touched each others’ hearts for the duration of an entire song. That was another thing that kind of took me out of it. Throughout the entire ceremony, they played some very poignant, well-produced songs expressing the exact sentiment we were focusing on. I kept wondering if they commissioned the songs themselves. There was one really nice one, “I Am the Light.” I’ll search iTunes when I have a moment.
Soon, the doors opened and the group transitioned into the Pyramid of the Moon for the sound healing. We all laid on separate little mattresses in the dim chamber, heads facing the middle. The instructors began to play gongs, chimes, and other instruments of that nature. The vibrations were meant to increase theta waves within the brain, which induces relaxation. This was by far my favorite part of the night. The sensation of the rumbling was definitely calming.
Calming enough that I found myself waking up at the end of the ceremony. It wasn’t just a trance, I was straight passed out. No surprise. This is a common occurrence for me when I get horizontal, especially if it’s dark. I was slightly bummed that I wasn’t present to hear all of the gong sounds and whatnot but it was a solid nap.
Overall, I was happy to take part in something like this. It’s an activity I would usually avoid, but getting out of the comfort zone to experience new things is the point of this whole trip. So “Wadoh” aka “Thanks.”
Following our spiritual field trip to the Pyramids of Chi was a jam-packed day of touring Ubud. We secured a driver for the three of us and hit the road by 9am.
We pulled into the parking lot of our first stop after just a few minutes of driving. It seemed like nothing. A plain parking lot in front of some hedges. It appeared that we would be growing into the day.
We were escorted through a gap in the hedges and down a pathway that opened itself up into a stunning scene of lush rice terrances that were exquisitely manicured.
What an exotic place. Not only was it a pristine piece of nature you could wander through, it was also a mini amusement park. There was a zipline and several different swings. The Bali swing is an iconic tourist activity, so Julian and I opted for the “Super Extreme” version (the highest you could do). This wasn’t the site of the original swing, but I’d argue it has some of, if not the best views. We saw several other swings throughout the day that paled in comparison.
That being said, it wasn’t all that exhilarating a ride. I mean, I’m not really a fan of heights and I wasn’t getting much of a thrill from it. We got 15 swings and the guys did their best to propel the swing as high as they could. The upside was the scenery for sure.
Julian and I tackled the swing and then continued to explore the grounds. Nanne kept watching the swing because she was on the fence about doing it.
Placed at various intervals were all of these wooden nests and shapes that you could climb in to take pictures. They were pretty nifty. I’m sure Instagram is overrun with these type of images. Don’t get me wrong, we did knock out a quick photoshoot, but I’ve met a few travelers that would still be there snapping pics.
The next stop on our trip was the Tellalang Rice Terraces. These might be the most well known terraces in Bali. I’m not really sure but that sounds good. They were only a short way down the road from where we were. Although not as lush as our previous setting, it was still quite awesome to see how sprawling they were. It was a feat to climb up and down all of the steps to have a look around. If I was a rice farmer I would be fit as hell.
Once we finished exploring and got back to the top, we were onto Tirta Empul, which is a holy water temple. This was more of the cultural experience I expected to get at every temple. Sarongs were a requirement to cover up certain parts of the body. At this temple specifically, you could enter the petirtaan (bathing structure) to perform a purification ritual by showering in the holy water. There was a certain procedure for this that we did our best to follow. We had to get a separate sarong for the water, store our items, and supply a sacrifice before making a prayer, cleansing and then rinsing in the holy spring.
It’s an interesting experience to dissect. Being afforded the opportunity to participate in the ritual at a real temple is very generous. Though it seemed like a lot of tourists were blasting through the process and skipping over some of the religious traditions. I think it’s a general lack of respect combined with the way the Balinese culture is on sale. There’s no real information on how to do it or what is customary. You pay a hefty entrance fee, which is fair enough, but then you have extra fees for the water sarong and the locker. Then you have local guides offering their services of explanation at an additional cost. It’s difficult not to feel nickel and dimed. I think that’s where you get a large contingency of people rushing into the water just to say they were bathed in holy water without recognizing the proper procedure of the ritual. We paused to observe the order of operations and the fountains that were reserved for funerals and cremations. I’m still not sure if we did it 100% correctly, but we can at least say we did our best. I feel like the practice would be respected so much more if they made the information more readily available. It would benefit everyone.
On the way out of the temple, we were shepherded through all of the vendors. This was one of the most stressful situations. In addition to the usual verbal requests to look at a shop, there were certain ladies that pulled us forcefully into their stall. “One dolla, one dolla!” Julian and I could have escaped relatively unscathed but Nanne kept slowing down and engaging the vendors. I guess she was vaguely in the market for some souvenirs. Problematic. She repeatedly said she was frustrated by all of the haggling but she kept going into shops and looking around. This was a common theme throughout the day that Julian and I laughed about.
By the time we made it back to our driver, we had worked up an appetite so we stopped for lunch around the corner. That was another thing that was kind of crazy. We were paying this guy a pretty decent amount of money and all he had to do was drive us 5 minutes to the next destination and then wait an hour for us to come back out. Pretty cush job if you can get it.
Julian and I had a beer at lunch. I mention this only to say that was the last beer I’ve had. It’s been a week, you guys. What’s going on?
From there, we went to the site of another temple, Goa Gajah. Before we could get out of the car, we were pounced on by some other vendors. We did decide to invest in sarongs since they were necessary at most temples. Still, the aggressive tactic of the sellers was a tad frustrating. What’s funny is that when we reached the entrance of Goa Gajah, we were deterred by the entrance fee so we didn’t even go in. Wore the sarong like a boss anyway.
The final stop of the day was a waterfall called Tegenungan. It was a popular destination for everybody else in the Ubud area as well. Kind of trappy. Again, we had to fork over some cash to look at it. A temple I can understand but an admission fee for nature seemed a little unnecessary. It was a tolerable amount, so Julian and I coughed it up while Nanne went on a mission to find food (she was a picky eater and didn’t have anything at lunch).
What to say about the waterfall…it was deece? It takes a really powerful, tall or shapely waterfall to stand out to me these days. This one was an okay height and you could swim in the pool, but beyond that it was nothing to write home about (whatever that says about these words).
We walked around for a little bit before returning to the car. On the way back to the hostel Nanne decided she was going back to Canggu so she sorted out a ride with our driver.
It was a pretty eventful day. We climbed a lot of steps, did some bargaining, completed a holy ritual, baked in the sun and saw a lot without really traveling all that far. It was also a pretty expensive day. The common refrain is that South East Asia is super cheap. That’s not untrue. Individual things don’t cost a lot. But you pay for everything and it adds up quickly. On the whole, it’s still better than a New Zealand or Australia, but I was expecting even cheaper based on what people said. Maybe it was because I’m so frugal and I’d already lowered my internal budget, or maybe it was because the 3 extra zeroes on the end of every price inflated the amount in my brain. We’ll see what my average daily spend is at the end of my time and compare.
Regardless, you have to expect to pay some money when you’re on an adventure. I expanded my horizons and that is a priceless endeavor. There we go. A platitude that only makes me vomit in my throat a little bit. It is a better mindset though.
