Last goodbye (Mekong River, Wat Hanchey, Kampong Cham, Cambodia)

The routine returned today and we are scheduled to visit two villages, after the usual 8:30am departure. The first was Wat Hanchey, another not-so-poor village, judging by the stupas and the size of the houses. Disembarking from the ship was a bit agricultural. The permanent moorings appear to be functional only during the monsoon season. The challenge this morning, dear reader, was to ascend the 302 steps to the top of the hill to see the temple.

It was as steep as it looked.

Challenge accepted. I was standing admiring the view in less than 9 minutes. Perhaps I was a tad breathless. The breeze at the top was most welcome. The view was worth the climb. It provided a panoramic vista over the river valley and the extent of the temple precinct. The steps had been divided into three sections and at each landing the depth of the tread of the step increased in height. While that had little impact on the descent, it didn’t make the ascent any easier.

The temple at the top of the steps.

There was also an easier method of climbing the mountain. A bus ride. Jayne informs me that the bus was oversubscribed and some people were ejected to face the 302 steps. Very average organisation. The bus had many vacant seats on the return journey as more opted to walk. Our guides had no idea who was where. Risky.

The view from the top.

The temple area was quite extensive and dated back thousands of years. Much of the original structures had been damaged by bombing during the American war. Areas of Cambodia were collateral damage as they say. The main temple has been rebuilt and some of the more significant historic structures are being restored, although Jayne thought the restoration attempt looked like a pile of Jenga blocks.

Still standing.

The surprise as you reached the temple precinct was the swarm of children that assailed you in search of gifts. We came unprepared. Fear not, the locals have this aspect covered. For the measly cost of $10USD you can buy a packet of colouring books or writing pads or a packet of 24 textas to give to the children. An open wallet is like waving a chip at a Circular Quay seagull. The kids swarm grabbing for a book.

Another temple.

This is a perfect example of a circular economy. You pay for the books and distribute them to the children, who, potentially return them to their parents to be re-packaged and sold to another group of unsuspecting tourists. We were assured that this never happens. I’m not so certain, but it is a good stimulus for their economy. Either way, it is a win-win for the children who apparently get the money and the book/textas.

The monks' house.

Back on board the ship, we spent some time on our verandah, re-hydrating with a local beer. Purely for health reasons you understand. It was the first time we’d spent any substantial amount of time out there. To date it has been used to dry washing and to acclimatise my camera to the humidity of the day. It was quite pleasant and there was a small breeze created by the movement of the ship as we made our way back down the river.

Heading down.

Of course, we were fed before our next excursion. I’ve taken to minimising breakfast and lunch, if for no other reason than to leave space for dinner.

Kampong Cham was our next port of call. Once again, there was no permanent mooring for the ship. In fact, there was a path made from bamboo that tracked across the muddy bank. The gangway was lowered and the crew made themselves busy re-sculpturing the bank to ensure ease of disembarkation. This is also the place where we will leave the ship and the next group will embark. Not the most salubrious of places to do it, compared to the marina at the other end.

The bamboo path near the gangway.

Our mode of transport switched back to the more traditional tuk tuk. The convoy headed off for the island, taking a circuitous, scenic route, which apparently did not please our guide. Words were exchanged and we were taken directly to our destination.

Our chariot.

Kampong Cham is an island that has only recently been connected to the mainland by a proper bridge. The previous structure was made of bamboo. I’m not sure my travel insurance would have covered me, had there been an accident. The new bridge was another “gift” from China, like the stadium in Phnom Penh. How lovely of China. All these multi-million dollar presents. No strings attached. Unless of course you consider staying mum about China building dams on the upper Mekong River and stealing the water from Vietnam and Cambodia to be ‘strings’. Jayne was highly amused that China provided money for a bridge that may soon be superfluous because they are damming the river and there will be no water to cross.

Community farming.

As we have progressed on our journey, we are visiting more and more affluent villages. Kampong Cham was the pinnacle. The home we visited was an example of subsistence living. Supposedly. It was a two-story house with limited under-croft because some of it had been enclosed. There was also solar power and air-conditioning and a reasonably new Toyota Landcruiser parked in the driveway.

They had some lovely orchids growing out the front of the house. The backyard contained numerous fruit trees and other cropping plants. There were pomelos, coconuts, lemon grass, ginger, limes, turmeric, mangoes, bananas and no doubt more, but I can’t remember. The backyard that contained the plants went through to the river where a well provided groundwater for irrigation. Apparently, they also had a bull that was used for insemination purposes, but he must have been out on a job, so to speak.

Some of the orchids.

The fruit and crops would bring an average of $15USD per day. In a leap year that is $5,490USD. I’m sure APT pays them handsomely to open their home and talk to us. But. But. I can’t see how that lifestyle can support the purchase of solar panels and a Landcruiser.

Coconuts.

The tuk tuk ride back to the ship was by a more direct route. We passed many palatial two-story residences that had massive chandeliers hanging in the upstairs front porches. Subsistence farming must pay better than my maths indicates.

Ginger, not Maryanne.

That afternoon we packed our bags ready for disembarkation tomorrow morning. That evening, at the farewell cocktail party, the whole crew was presented to us once again. Long gave his final briefing, predictably not so brief, on board and provided us with a lot of unnecessary information about the next three days. He had to be prompted to inform us of the important details, like what time do the bags need to be ready and what time is breakfast?

Turmeric and solar panels.

And then it was the final dinner where I learnt a new term. One of the meals on offer was barramundi and slipper lobster. I’d never heard the latter term. Fortunately, one of the chefs explains the menu selection as you walk into the dining room. To aid in this endeavour is a table that holds each of the dishes. A slipper lobster is our Balmain bug or Moreton bug if you’re a Queenslander.

We said our farewells to our favourite staff and retired to our stateroom, not cabin, to complete packing. The bags have to be outside our door by no later than 6:15 tomorrow morning. Breakfast will be served from that time. Holiday indeed.

The farewells inspired the title. A Jeff Buckley classic from his first album Grace, Last Goodbye. Like his father, gone too soon from this world.

Until next time.

 

Lover, you should've come over (Hà Nôi, Vietnam)

Another adventure begins dear reader, and this time we're off to the previously unvisited countries of Vietnam and Cambodia. To be fair, I have been to the former for work but I'm not sure that counts. Flying visits for trade presentations or 'meet and greets' for prospective students (and their parents), demonstration classes and the like. I really didn't see much of the country and have been keen to return, so when APT offered us a discount trip on the back of some minor problems with our European River cruise last year, the answer was swift and in the affirmative.

This cruise. It was hard to take.

Of course Qantas wouldn't come to the party and wanted some ridiculous amount of money for the airfares so we jumped ship, so to speak, and booked with Singapore Airlines. More on that later.

As with our previous blog posts the title will be a song. Generally the reason for the selection is obvious. Sometimes not. Where possible I'll hyperlink the music somewhere in the post as I explain my choice. Not only does it allow me to share my excellent taste in music, it also provides a window into my thought processes. Probably best not to dwell too heavily on the latter.

Another trip commences with the perennial problem of how to get to the airport. No chauffeur this time. APT thought they had been generous enough. The train to the airport costs around $30 each and we have to travel into Central or out to Wolli Creek and change because, ridiculously, the airport line skirts around Redfern. An inconvenient first world problem and not the last we shall encounter I'm certain. An Uber was projected to cost around $52ish, cheaper than the train and a limo was $80. Then Jayne scored an email from Uber offering a 25% discount for pre-booked fares. Bargain. Uber it is. Booked for a 6:30am pick-up, door-to-door and cheaper than the train and less hassle with the bags.

Despite having booked the ride a week earlier, Richard our driver was only made aware of it that morning. He was on time in his new car that was purchased through SPLEND. Google it dear reader. It's a lease-to-own scheme that ties in with car-share companies like Uber. Richard was spot on time and we were at the airport and heading through customs before 7am. 

On the drive we discussed how Uber actually works. It's quite interesting and certainly not for me. As it is a US based company the pre-booked rides all come through the central program at the same time. Regardless of country. Super keen Uber drivers need to be up and ready to go before 4am when the day's fares come through. It wouldn't take much to tweak the software to ensure a more effective and timely delivery of information.

Sadly there would be no Qantas First Lounge today, but the Singapore Lounge was fine and we settled in for breakfast and the obligatory glass of champagne before we boarded the plane.

It was going to be a long day. Sydney to Singapore, change plane and terminal, then Singapore to Hà Nôi. The layover time in Singapore you ask? Less than an hour. I wouldn't have trusted Qantas to make that narrow window, let alone transit our luggage as well. Spoiler alert. Singapore Airlines nailed it.

The second flight was as uneventful and nowhere near capacity. We discovered "Book the Cook" a little perk of flying Business Class where you can pre-order meals from a much more extensive menu than is usually supplied. Good one Singapore Air. Perhaps Qantas ... nah, not in the current climate, it might shave 1 cent off the dividend.

We breezed through customs. Almost. The official I had seemed intent on reading every stamp in my passport. It's new, I replaced my old one last year, so if all my China visits came up on the screen there was no evidence on the pages before him. After what seemed an eternity the open page was stamped and I was allowed to join Jayne in Vietnam.

Bag collection was also fast and efficient. Unlike Qantas, who promise the world and rarely deliver. The Business Class bags were tagged and actually arrived first. Through the doors and out into the humidity and cigarette smoke, towards the man waving the APT paddle. Thi guided us to our car, outlined the program that would begin in a few days, pointed out some sights and made some recommendations of places we might like to visit.

At the hotel, we were handed over to Long, a former academic who looks only about half of his 50 years. He will be our Tour Director as we cruise down the Mekong.

The room.

The hotel is the Sofitel Legend Metropole, recently refurbished and definitely holding onto its French heritage. We scored a room upgrade because of my years with Accor. Bonus. Waiting in the room were a fruit platter, macarons, chocolates and a drink voucher. More importantly, after being in transit for around 16 hours it was time for a hot shower and then to test out the King sized bed.

The bathroom.

And to the title of this post. OK, I struggled finding a song (a) that was suitable for this post, (b) hadn't been used before and (c) wasn't about the war. In the end I just went random. Surprised? If you've been looking for the link to Jeff Buckley's Lover, you should've come over and found one, I'd love to hear it, because the only reasoning behind it is I like it. A lot. Anyway, have a listen. A great talent gone too soon from this world.

Until tomorrow.