Returning

I boarded China Southern flight 4708 this afternoon and left Hanoi in a burst of turbulent glory. So long Southeast Asia, it's been a real slice.

Two hours later the plane touched down roughly in Guangzhou, China and I was welcomed by humid smog. I purposefully organized this series of flights with a 22 hour layover in Guangzhou in order to see a bit of China firsthand. You can stay in any of the three major cities for up to 72 hours without a visa. It feels like I'm cheating the system somehow--I do hate paperwork.

After passing through immigration I was directed to a China Southern waiting room by a woman clothed head to toe in fuchsia. I was told to wait without any explanation which seems to be the standard mode of communication here. Luckily I had some inkling of what was going on. Weeks ago I had heard a tale told by a fellow traveler who had used this same airline. Apparently if you have more than 8 hours between flights the airline gets you a room for free including meals and whatnot. That feeling of cheating grew sharper as I waited.

Eventually the other passengers and I were herded through the gigantic airport to an unmarked van. The Dutch woman next to me said that we could set the world record for easiest kidnapping, ever. She wasn't very impressed with the service but she had done this once before. We were in for a treat once we saw the rooms.

Check in went smoothly and I stalked a sombre, empty hallway for room 552. I'm reminded of the Shining but the room is a treat. It's much nicer than the shitty dorms I've been paying for. This is a comfortable way to end a trip where I've purposely roughed it as much as possible. The only problem is I look out the windows and Guangzhou's poor suburbs and the grey haze above them fill my view. At the risk of sounding ungrateful, the contrast between this opulence and general Chinese welfare seems like an accurate introduction to the country. I'm going to try and get a ride into town to see what I can see.

Scattered

It's been easy to ignore writing while in Asia. Cycling really seemed to inspire me. I had thoughts and it seemed worthwhile to write them down. I even looked forward to it.

The section of my trip through Cambodia and Vietnam feels different though. I've done interesting things and met interesting people but it's all the same after a while. Another restaurant, another road, another accent. This morning I got off a bus in Hanoi after an 18 hour ride from Hoi An and it was pouring rain. Even though I had left my cheap plastic poncho hanging in the previous hotel's lobby and I didn't know North from sideways I just started walking. My first desire was to spite the taxi drivers who hound arriving travelers but that quickly was washed away by the warm rain.

I walked all morning and manage to find a new poncho, breakfast noodle soup, and the glorious combination of Vietnamese coffee and WiFi. I found directions to the hotel here and kept walking. City blocks filled with people and motorbikes and food signs came and went, always with a fine mist of falling water. I never found any special place this morning on the streets of Hanoi but upon arriving at the hotel I felt like I had accomplished something, however small.

So I'm beginning to think the difference between the two parts of my trip lays in the how of movement. Getting on a night bus and taking a sleeping pill is meaningless compared physically moving myself to the next town down the line. It's not the town that's so important, just getting there is enough. I believe I'm paraphrasing some old quote about how to live your life now. Time to wrap these ramblings up.

Dalat Rain

For the better part of a week I've been in the mountain town of Dalat, a bit north of Ho Chi Minh City. It's wonderfully cool compared to the low-laying cities I've been in for the best couple weeks. It's also smaller  and quieter than the previous places so I keep deciding to stay another day. Today's extension was rewarded by heavy rains so I've been hiding indoors to keep my sketchbook dry. Initially I was a bit annoyed but everything has turned out fine. Sitting in a Vietnamese mall examining the gifts of capitalism is way more a fun than I had previously thought.

Night Searching

"I'm going for a walk," I say as the straps of my knock-off sandals dig into the soft flesh of my toes.

"I'm going to spew." Marielle shows the whites of her eyes and clutches her tablet tight against her abdomen. The machine's low-grade radiation is helping to soothe the greasy omelet lodged in her stomach. I'm suddenly glad to be the kind of impatient gentleman that passes the first of two identical dishes to his dining partner and decides to find something else for lunch when the cook doesn't get around to making the second. "Have a good time. And don't feel like you can't join the party downstairs. And don't feel like you can't stay here."

I nod and it's every nod I've ever made as a place holder for an explanation.

"Feel better soon. I've got some Gravol if you want it." I turn out the light and her nose ring reflects the tablet's glow as the door closes softly.

Two flights of stairs give way beneath me and the hostel foyer is filled with people, noodles, and plastic bottles filled with beer. I add a smile to a different type of nod when the hostess motions for me to join the party. I press a white headphone into its canal and my ear left drum is filled with the vibrations of Andrew Bird's voice and guitar. The hostess smiles before turning back to the party. I think tonight might be Saturday but it's not a Saturday for socializing. Maybe she understands and becomes every person whose offer I've turned down.

Outside, rough cement presses against my feet and the breeze is cooler than I ever thought it could be. The cement grows vertically into tightly packed buildings that funnel air flows through me. My shirt is freshly washed but still damp against skin. It rained today the manager of the hostel told me. This shirt was lucky to escape most of the downpour of bonded hydrogen and oxygen.

The night sky can't be dark with so many neon signs on top of other neon signs. At street level bright headlights accompany Andrew Bird as he sings, "Let's get out of here/Past the atmosphere."

So I walk on, trying to make every step meaningful. I want to get lost but a strong sense of self-preservation keeps me on well known streets. One step happens and it's every night time step I've ever taken, every time and every place wrapped up neatly in the slapping sound of plastic and heel.

Then the next step happens and things change. I'm two dimensional, bones and sinew replaced with lines of all different lengths. The major lines run through my stick legs and my box abdomen up through my head. Their molecules vibrate along their various lengths in time with the lights of the street.

"Come by sea/swarm like smoke in the dawn/we were the young/we were the swarm," Andrew Bird sings and the bass drum feeds the hum through my lines. Some more steps happen and the only thing I'm aware of is a light mist covering my glasses. I brush the front of my shirt but it can't get any more damp. It's a happy thought so I start to sing along with Andrew Bird. The words are every word I've ever sang before someone who couldn't understand my language.

I approach the river in the centre of town and the neon flowers that line its bank are the only things I can focus on. They're two dimensional and I resist their pull amid dim recollections of major lines and their energy. The next trap is Atlantis rising quickly from the waves. Skeletons are being flushed from the draining spires and merfolk dance along to an eerie beat. It's interesting but I turn my back to the scene. My next step brings me back the way I came.

"Did it carry you away/carry you all away/nomenclature's washing you away," says a voice and it spreads through connected carbon atoms to my fingertips. I remember a cafe I'd passed by several times and a major line of my brain finds the least number of street crossings that will get me there. Then I'm facing the words 'The Muse' scrawled in neon and the cafe is surprisingly two dimensional. I make the final crossing anyway. Halfway through the street I remember that crossing and passing are the same word in a language I don't understand.

I strike gold and the cafe isn't so two dimensional when I step up to the counter. Alternating light and dark bricks hold up one side of a space that contains just as many staff as customers. The chalkboard menu is written cramped near the ceiling because the lower portion of its wall is braced with so many machines.

"Here's the menu," the waitress says when I can't decipher the chalk items under the glare.

"Coffee please."

"Do you want it upstairs?"

I don't understand the question so I triumphantly point to the only empty table. She nods like I solved the riddle. I step towards my seat at the pine-chip tabletop stuck onto an uncut-log stand and it's amazing. I kill more time by examining the obvious staircase that I had walked by on my way to the counter. The waitress brings my coffee before I can decide how many dimensions it has though.

The coffee takes a step to my lips and it's the only liquid that I've ever tasted. A taxi flashes by and it's the only machine to have ever operated. I look at the counter and the waitress is the only person I've ever met. I realize Andrew Bird is no longer singing, only a guitar and the sound of a dragonfly's wings fill my leftmost nitrogen atoms. I finish my cup quickly in order to return to the hostel. The party continues as the hostess and I perform a complex ritual consisting only of nods and smiles.

"The Gravol totally fixed me," Marielle says brightly when I step into the room, the stairs having been remade beneath me.

"That's great." I pause to take off my sandals and it adds weight to such generic words. But I say them with every one of my lines. The only follow up I can think of is that I love this place. I don't know what those words mean but it comes out anyway.

"Why's that?" She looks up, briefly.

"Just the feeling here. Same as always, right?" I say without thinking.

I get into bed and I'm only aware of that feeling here.

Ho Chi Minh to Mui Ne

The part of Ho Chi Minh I was staying in was a big party spot. During the Vietnam war it was the part of town given to the Americans and it still has leave-of-duty atmosphere. The best part were the bars that consist of plastic chairs for small children right on the edge of the street. Bottles of delicious Saigon beer were only 50 cents too!

After a few bottles yesterday morning was a bit rough but I hopped on a bus to the resort town of Mui Ne. The bus was really weird in that all the seats were setup like beds in two layers but it was great for sleeping on the five hour ride. The water is warm and there's plenty of wind so windsurfing and kite surfing are popular here. The place I'm having breakfast at right now doubles as a water sport rental place even. Buying a bicycle didn't pan out in Ho Chi Minh City so maybe I'll surf up the coast instead.

Ho Chi Minh City

I just arrived in Ho Chi Minh City by bus from Phnom Penh. My hostel was just around the corner from the bus stop, which was great because it started pouring rain once I got up to my room. So far things looked more developed here but the money will take some getting used to. The exchange rate is something like 20000 Vietnamese Dong to one dollar Canadian. Zeros are fun!

Back to Phnom Penh

I'm back in Phnom Penh now after a hot bus ride yesterday. I did one last day around some of the temples on Thursday but I was pretty tired of them by then. I was really enjoying the bike I rented though so I'm thinking of trying to buy a bike when I get to Vietnam tomorrow. Ho Chi Minh City to Hanoi is about 17000 km so I could do that in 20 days, no problem. Hopefully the shopping goes well!

Return to Angkor Wat

I rented a bike yesterday and headed back to Angkor Wat at 6 am to avoid the heat. The temperature here hadn't bothered me too much but the last couple days have been worse. I've been a bit sick--just a sore throat--so maybe that's why. Riding through the jungle in the early morning felt great though and there weren't as many people around. I was able to get some good sketches done but my favorite is the gateway to Angkor Thom, the walled city next door to Angkor Wat. Going through that tiny gate--it's just big enough for a medium-sized car--feels like stepping through a portal to another world. As amazing as the buildings are I'd rather hang around the gates all day.

As midday approached I cycled back to the guesthouse to get some lunch and have a nap in the shade. Then around 4 pm it was cool enough to see some new temples. I decided to check out to the furthest temple, Preah Khan, which was cool but they're all starting to look the same. I was happy to get a sketch of an elephant tree eating a crumbling wall done before the park closed. The return trip to town brought back lots of memories from my cycle tour through western Canada. It was a good to sketch my legs a bit except the bike was a little small. And, boy, did that rear break screech! Watching dusk fall over the most around Angkor Wat as lightning strikes in the background will be one of my best memories from this trip.

Now I'm off to find some fruit and a pool to cool off in.

Angkor Wat

Yesterday I took a tour of the temple of Angkor Wat, the eighth wonder of the world, and some of the surrounding buildings. The temple grounds are huge and great moat--like a man-made lake really--surrounds the whole thing. You enter the main area over a huge causeway and that's the first set of pictures below. Then you pass through the outer ring of gatehouses and walls into the inner grounds surrounding the actual temple. Every surface of the sandstone blocks used to build the whole place is intricately carved with figures of different gods and demons or geometric patterns. Inside the temple you go up steep flights of stairs to get to the top that represents the home of the gods. Originally it was dedicated to Hindu gods in the 12th century or something but some parts were changed to Buddhist statures in the centuries since.

It's really an overwhelming place and there are tons more temples and other related buildings in the area with different styles of architecture and decoration. I'm going back tomorrow to check it out some more and then again on Thursday. Hopefully I'll have a better handle on it then!