Puffed Rice and a Respite for our Backsides

Well well, we woke this morning to the sounds of a Vietnamese family going about their business....at 5am.  Yes, those walls that don't touch the ceiling let sounds in as well as out.  Truth be told it didn't matter much as we had to be up at the crack of dawn because low tide was at 7.30/8am and we needed to be off the homestay island by 7am.  Neither of us had slept well and for this young man there was to be no cycling today.  Unfortunately Cambodia had beaten me and dehydrated as I was it would have been folly to push through and complete the planned 30 odd km.

Worst job in the world, collecting clay from the river bed

A view out onto the delta

The Delta....shallower than it looked

After fond farewells we all got on the boat and it made it's sluggish way up the river towards a real floating market.  I say real as this was a working market - one designed for river people and the locals, not for tourists.  That's not to say that the Vietnamese passed up an opportunity to cater for us "hard currency rich fools"!

On the way our guide had proven once again that we've been very lucky.  One of our group needed a pit-stop and in attempting to moor our boat to a riverbank Lam (the guide) fell straight into the river mud.

The "eyes" to ward off evil spirits

Talk about going over and above the call of duty.  Between the receding waters and the deep mud, he couldn't get us moored, so we had to move on and the lady in question had to use a bucket with us gentlemen averting our eyes.

Is it a Junk?  Or a mini-village?

The boats were a revelation.....like mini-Villages in themselves, with chickens in baskets, bicycles and all sorts hanging off the various elements of the junks.


We learned that the way to tell what the trader was selling was to look for the tall pole (not you Jarek!) and see what had been pinned there; for instance a pineapple on the top of it meant they were selling pineapples....simple really.





The canal itself had vague reminiscences of Venice, with it's church at one end and...actually well, that was about it, but work with me here :)

Like the Grand Canal....only less Grand

Lady making rice paper

We stopped and disembarked to have a tour of a little production line for coconut and rice goods - everything from coconut sweets, to rice wine with scorpions and cobras embalmed in it.  The highlight for me was seeing how they puffed rice.  Having tried this at home on numerous occasions with no success and fantastic frustration, I realised I was missing an ingredient.  Sand.  Yup, they heat up the sand then toss in the rice (husk and all).  The rice pops out of the husk like popcorn and then they sieve it through a couple of sieves to first remove sand then the husks.  So simple.

Puffing the rice in black sand

Back on the boat and it was a short ride to our bikes.  Tim, my partner in pain (though to be fair to him he was properly ill, I just had rotten guts), was kitted up to get on his bike.  Urgh, the shame.  However when we got there, it was too much so I had company on the bus of shame :)

Kind of sums up how Tim and I felt about being on the bus

Julia cycled the first 10km happily and I felt quite gutted to have missed out, but the next 20 were fairly uninspiring and so it all kind of balanced out.  After that 30km, everyone was back on the bus, sweaty, stinky and dusty and we had a nice long drive to Saigon (or Ho Chi Minh City).



Arriving in the hotel felt wonderful, we had 9 days ahead of us here.  9 whole days to do......nothing. See the few sights, read our books, sit by the pool, go to the gym and generally chill out.  Lovely.  Normally the prospect of 9 days doing nothing would make us both twitch convulsively, but not this time.

Tet Crowds in Saigon

That night we did a short walk through the lunacy that was Saigon preparing for New Year - or Tet.  Then we were taken en masse to a lovely restaurant, the Temple Club, that pulled off beautifully a nod to the old colonial French past.

Us at a civilised dinner at Temple Club

Next day was a day of goodbyes as we checked out of the arranged hotel and moved into our new home for the next 9 days.  We had some great times with this new group of friends and would thank them all for some wonderful memories.  Most thanks go to our guides and support crew who truly made it all possible.....they were amazing.

A family meal and a homestay

Chilli's Roasting in the Sun

Today was to be a day of buses, bikes and lifejackets, and boy oh boy were they fetching life jackets.  Even out here, in deepest darkest Vietnam, Health and Safety manages to grip us in its ridiculous claws.  I say ridiculous, because judging by the state of some of the rivers we crossed, lifejacket or not, you’d probably either bounce straight back into the boat or die from blood poisoning before you’d had a chance to drown.

Commuter's Convenience Store

From the hotel we took the bus to the boat and this was a chance for some soul-searching – was I going to ignore the dissent from my insides, “dry my eyes” so to speak and crack on?  Or was I going to be sensible and sit today out?  Tim, in a much worse state than I was, yet sat there in his cycling gear, showed there was no way to back down.  Julia of course saw things completely differently, but we wouldn’t be husband and wife if we agreed on everything!

Our first stop was at the first ferry crossing.  The locals simply loved the Exodus Fashion Show, with this Spring/Summer’s collection causing quite the stir (being a variety of lycra outfits with clashing orange lifejackets).  We picked up our bikes on the other side and set off, in my case gingerly, with the sun promising to make today a hot and sweaty one.  Yum.

Before long we were on another ferry and this time the locals could see the reasoning behind the lycra (we had our bikes with us)….though the lifejackets were still probably beyond them.  I mean if you’re lugging your life’s savings to market on the back of a moped, a foreign berk in a lifejacket probably looks a bit soft!  There were chuckles and fingers pointed and once again without meaning to we stuck out like sore thumbs. 

Off to Market

Back on the bikes on the other side and yes, our predictions were right, it was baking.  We were on the way to our Vietnamese guide’s family home.  Mr. Lam’s mum apparently cooked a mean lunch and so I spent my time figuring out how to justify the inevitable stomach pains that would come of eating anything other than rice. 

We arrived in the village and already people were calling out to him and starting up conversations.  After so long traversing the 3 countries in an almost anonymous state, it was interesting to see one of the guides with their home town network.  A short wait to re-group and a final 50 or so metres on the main road, then we turned off down an alley; this was to be a small revelation. 

We’d spent ages cycling roads and only seeing what was, in essence, a 2 dimensional view of the towns and villages we went through.  When we turned down this alley we realized what was behind the facades.  It was lovely.  More housing, but of a different style, almost “real” in comparison to the shop-front style we’d seen so far.  Here were families, children at play and gardens where we saw what Nee had told us about Vietnam; how the people are very industrious and use every inch of available space to grow things.

Mr. Lam’s family was across a small creek and the ubiquitous welcoming party of small children had huge smiles on their faces.  We crossed the wooden bridge and were welcomed to tables laden with ….actually groaning under the weight of….a beautiful spread.

Clearly I had already dispensed with “sensible Alex”, so I got stuck in.  The food was delicious and though I would come to regret every mouthful….I don’t regret it one little bit.  It was with heavy stomachs that we departed the Lam family home.

A local Banksy

Nobody had bothered to turn the thermostat down when we got back on the bikes and the sun was really giving us a kicking.  As we approached a bridge where we would have the opportunity of becoming sensible and jumping on the bus, we found that “the bridge was out!”  So we had a diversion along the river of a few km – which was…. nice.  In the end we made it to our final boat trip and as I looked back at our bikes disappearing behind us, I can’t say as I was that sorry.

Team Pain

We were off to our homestay evening; a kind of binary event in that it was either going to be great or a nightmare.  It was most definitely the former.  We all settled into our rooms, showered then joined the host family in their big kitchen to help them prepare dinner.  I hadn’t realised how much I miss cooking.

Dinner was a boozy affair, with rice wine and beer and more ….oh so much more…..delicious food that I relished.  Once again we had those pangs of guilt as we didn’t finish all the food on our table, but if you’re going to serve up enough food for 12 on a table of 5 (2 of whom are ladies and 2 of whom are men with dodgy guts), there is going to be the odd spring roll left over.  Actually there were no spring rolls left over, but that’s by the by.

That noodle was 1.5m long!

Off to bed, a little tipsy and our first night under a mosquito net.  It looked very romantic, although the fact that each room had four walls that DIDN’T connect with the roof, meant that you could hear everything in everyone else’s room.  At this point I’ll pause briefly to let you know that a) Cambodian stomach bugs are not to be trifled with, b) having to carefully extricate yourself from a mosquito net every time you need the loo is annoying and c) a lack of sound-proofing on the bathroom is at the very least embarrassing, if not downright disgusting. 

Come the morning, having spent most of the night sat on a bench in the room waiting for the next upheavals rather than try and be graceful with a mosquito net, I was knackered and really looking forward to being sensible.  Yes…..I quit and got on the bus.

Border crossing to Vietnam

Our last day in Cambodia began (guess what) with another early start.  After a very special time in Phnom Penh, witnessing the old King's cremation and learning all about Cambodia's sad past, we were transfering two hours out of town to meet our bikes.







We had about 18km to our first snack break at an "in the middle of nowhere" petrol station. We rode our bikes through lovely villages where all the kids came running, screaming "hello, hello" and wanted to high five us whilst going passed.  They were so excited.

the border to Vietnam 

There was a fair amount of traffic on this never ending very straight road. We shared the way to the border with lots of motorbikes, horse and carriages, lorries and the occasional group of cows.  I tell you it is quite satisfying if you keep overtaking motorised vehicles with your pushbike!


After  a break we had another 12 km to lunch, again on a very, very straight road.  The headwind and the high standing sun made it quite a fight to get there.  Alex had only eaten rice as his insides were not so happy that day (delhi belly on the way ?!)


From here we only had about 10 km to the border; it was crazy hot.  I managed to hang on to a very fast group of cyclists (Beki, Tim, and David) which made that journey terribly hard but very fast and I just wanted to get out of the heat!


Saying goodbye to our bikes and the Cambodian cycling team we all escaped on the air-conditioned bus for a pointless (hilariously so) 1 minute bus ride.

saying goodbye to Fila

Nee warned us the day before that the border would be incredibly hot with no shade and would take a while to get through; as there are 3 different tin-shed-like buildings where we have to collect stamps for our passports.  It didn't take as long as we thought to get through.  We said goodbye to Fila and welcomed Mr.  Lam with our new Vietnam crew on the other side.









While a lot of our cycling friends had to put pedals, bags, saddles and other toys on their new bikes, I thought "I'm going to collapse"; it must have been 40 degrees, no shade and no wind - absolutely ridiculous...

One of my artistic moments while waiting for our passports.

I got very grumpy and nearly got on that bus again to avoid the heat and save all the others from my foul mood.  Thank God I didn't, because as soon as we were sitting on those bikes and got a little wind in the hair I calmed down and appreciated the beauty around us.  Vietnam is sooooo different to Cambodia. It seemed like suddenly the rice fields were green and people were busy and happy doing things. We stopped after 15km at a catfish farm to recharge before we headed another 10 km to Chau Doc for the night.  We went to an authentic Vietnamese restaurant where Alex had some more rice and I some very interesting spring rolls.  I didn't have a good tummy that night either...

Cambodia Day 5....or the Day a Sliver of our Souls Died

Today was always going to be a big day on the tour; a day to learn about and visit some of the sites of the Cambodian war.  I’m still not sure if this was a war, a rebellion, a revolution or simply a stain on humanity’s soul – probably a bit of each and a lot of the latter.  Whatever the case, it seems to me the story hasn’t yet been fully told and in the words of our guide, maybe in a hundred years we’ll know the truth.

Just like the Ginger Pig!

Fish Dish?

It started with a familiar site/sight (?) in SE Asia, a market.  Surrounded by smells, sounds, smells and strange sights we pushed through the throngs of early morning shoppers on our way to meet our bus.  Did I mention the smells yet?  Imagine a tin of open cat food in a tuna sandwich and you get the idea of what it was like to stand between these two stalls J

The bus journey to one of the Killing Fields was an opportunity for our guide to let us know about the horrors of life back in the day.  She had lived to tell the tale and told it well.  I shan’t go into the details; this isn’t a political activist’s blog, nor a wall of denunciation.  

(Another horror we learned is that Cambodians, to clean the water, grow morning glory on top of their open sewers aka rivers.  Morning Glory or Water Spinach is one of Julia’s favourite foods and this knowledge deeply upset Julia’s heart and stomach!  It was to be a while before she could trust that the morning glory she was eating wasn’t the “organic” variety our guide had described.)

The Depressions, aptly named, marking the sites of mass graves

 On arrival, there was a stifling heat at the Field and in the leaden atmosphere the group shuffled amongst the depressions in the ground.  We’d been told that the whiter “stones” in the ground weren’t stones at all and despite not wanting to look here was another reminder of how grisly human curiousity can be.

The signage was clear as to what we were witnessing. 

The one-legged beggar stood on the other side of the wire fence surrounding the Field, hand held out as I walked the perimeter, seemed to compound my feelings of humanity’s inadequacy.  Was he preying on our shame and sadness, hitting us like a good marketing man, in our hour of weakness?  Or simply doing his best to survive having had his leg blown off by one of the landmines “we” had sold the Cambodians?

Stupa housing recovered bones

The Stupa erected to hold the bones of those discovered at the site did manage to give an air of dignity to what otherwise was a horrifically desecrated old Chinese burial ground.  Visiting a mass grave somehow didn’t seem to be such a great idea after all.  I wonder how the poor spirits of the Chinese buried there felt?

Barbed Wire to Stop Prisoners Committing Suicide

By the time we arrived at S21, one of the notorious prison camps in Phnom Penh, Julia and I were jaded by heat and horror.  Visiting one of the buildings was enough.  Learning that some of the leaders of Pol Pot’s band had joined the Royal Government that came afterwards, leant history the stench of something sinister, something unfinished.  There was a feeling that nothing had ended, nothing really changed. Who knows?  

We left a little early, in search of refreshment and inadvertently came upon a little lady, no more than 12, selling bracelets her mother made and showing that perhaps there was hope.  She took a shine to Julia and certainly enjoyed joining in the neck massage Julia gave me in exchange for a bracelet – thumping away on my back with a little trill of laughter.

We left the group as they broke for lunch and went for a massage – though to be fair it was more of a back-rub with thumbs involved.  Then we had a short rest by the pool before a couple of drinks on the roof of the hotel in time for the old King’s cremation. 

The King is Dead, Long Live the King

There was a long gun salute and a massive fireworks display, with billows of smoke rising from the Imperial Palace as his body burned.  We were privileged to have witnessed what was a momentous day in Cambodian history; whatever our thoughts on the rights and wrongs of their leadership, there was no denying what the occasion meant to them.

We all ate dinner together in the hotel then went off to bed, glad that we slept in more peaceful times.

Cambodia Day 4

A bus ride through spider town

A young local family watching"the white men" getting on their bikes

Today we had the chance to give our bums a rest.  A very early start, as usual, to get to Phnom Penh past a school Exodus is supporting; a lunch on a lake and a short stop at a village where the speciality is deep fried TARANTULA.

Sounds like a lovely itinerary, doesn’t it?

Cathrine is enjoying taking photos with the school kids

About an hour outside of Siem Reap we had the choice to get off the bus and cycle 10km down a very dusty, potholed road or to stay in the air-conditioning to get to the school.  Alex and I decided to miss out on the dust and sweat so as not to be two stinky people on the bus for the next 5 hours.

At this school, which is just 4 walls and a roof on top, about 20 kids were running around, half of them orphans, some shy, but all in all they seemed happy.  Another experience to put everything into perspective again, we learned that it costs 360$ to sent a kid to university for a year.  Considering how much money and food gets wasted in the rest of the world that was quite shocking and if we all would share a bit the world could be a better place.

lunchtime view

The rest of the day was just sitting on the bus, reading, sleeping and watching movies.  We had lunch at a lovely place on a lake and then moved closer to our aim.  Just one little stop was left… Spider town yuk!

deep fried tarantulas anyone?

I knew this was coming from the day we booked this trip and I really tried hard to prepare myself.  In my head I’ve considered getting off that bus and letting one of those kids put one of those tarantulas on my clothes but everything happened a little differently…I didn’t rush off the bus of course, I was the last one leaving and as I had a look outside I saw two of our fellow travellers having huge black Tarantulas sitting on their FACES…yes FACES ..so here comes the panic attack ..little “wanted to be so brave” Julia run to the back of the bus rocking back and forth crying her eyes out!!! What’s wrong with me I thought but I just couldn’t stop it.  The worst bit was that I really had to use the bathroom so I had to get off the bus.  Nee our leader handled the situation wonderfully and managed to get all of the spiders and their fans away from the bus so I could run around the crowd and run back without having eye contact with my paranoia.

A local commuter bus

Finally arriving in Phnom Penh, after driving through very dirty and littered suburbs, we couldn’t drive right up to our hotel as this was very close to the King’s palace where the old King’s funeral was held the following day.  All very exciting, we were holding on to our suitcases and belongings and walked about 5 minutes through all the chaos.

In the evening at dinner on the riverfront we got surprised by a very huge fireworks display in honour of the old King.  After dinner we had a little walk around to mingle with the locals and enjoy the atmosphere.

The Kings Palace