The Final Countdown
After the last person in our group of eight successfully zip lined to the other end, we asked the workers what to do next. They all just pointed to the water and said "Swim! Swim!". One by one we tried our very best to dip down into the ice cold water, wondering when the suffering would end. We did a short swim to the entrance of the Dark Cave and climbed up the wooden platform, following the nicely built pathway into the cave. 3 minutes later, the wooden platform had ended and we came to a large body of water. No one had told us what exactly to do, and there were no signs nor a map to steer us in the right direction. We weren't even sure if our tickets even came with a guide. Well, when this happens in a particularly dark and dangerous cave, there is only one thing to do - keep going.
Dave, our brilliant Aussie adventurer, had taken the lead and started to swim across the water deeper into the cave. I am not sure how long it took us to get across, but every so often there would be an unexpected sharp rock and shallowness to the water. Not only was our only source of light our headlamps, but the water itself was extremely murky - anything could be underneath and we would not know. As the water got narrower, we had the option of either continuing to follow the water or to reach land. Dave and Mo (our German second-in-command) went ahead and scrambled over the sharp rocky land option, and then shouted that we should just follow the water. Laure, Patrick, and two other women lingered a bit and voiced their concerns about going deeper into the cave. To be fair, the farther down we went, the less of a logical path it seemed to be. Either water or land would be treacherous, but since there seemed to be no other way (except for going back where we came from...but we wanted our money's worth), we chose water and carried on. Ducking a few rocks here and there, we finally reached land again. With bare feet, we stepped on sharp rock formations that had various craters and edges that could easily slice flesh. Somewhere along the way, we started to hear distant shouting from behind us. "Come back!" they seemed to call. I could see this becoming a horror film - eight dumb Westerners decide to go on an adventure into the caves of Vietnam alone because guides are for losers. One by one the headlamps begin to die and lost in the winding paths of the cave, they become desperate to survive, thus beginning an alternative plot to the TV series Lost.
We found our way back, and in the distance saw multiple lights shining at us. It seemed as though we were the only foreigners with no logical sense to stay and wait for a guide. We approached the Vietnamese man that was in charge of us and told him that we thought we had to go further into the cave.
"No! In there, you die!" he shook his head.
For the rest of the day, we blamed Dave for trying to kill us all. Another near-death experience checked off my list.
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Instead of going straight from Nepal to Vietnam, I left Nepal a week early and spent some time in Thailand. Unfortunately I was a bit disappointed - in my eyes it isn't all travelers hype it up to be. Someone once told me that the variety of people there are travelling in Thailand is what makes it nicer in comparison to the trekker/yogi/volunteer types you find in Nepal. I agree that there is a variety of different foreigners coming to Thailand for different things, but I am not too fond of old Western men surrounding themselves with Thai women as if he is some predator with an Asian fetish, nor the herds of young people bringing their party from the college campus to the beaches of Thailand which would be so much nicer without them. I could not really head up to Chiang Mai in the one week I had in the country, so I stayed within the vicinity of Bangkok (Kanchanaburi and Ayutthaya)
Met these three Egyptian guys (left back to right front: Aref, Bashandy, and Badry) in Bangkok on a CS meetup and traveled with them for a few days. Here playing foosball with 2 Brits that we had just met.
Gotta love the blankets at our hotel
Two big intimidating Egyptian men at a pink crepe stand. Gotta love contrasts
Ruins of Ayutthaya
With only a week in Thailand, there was only so much I could do. If I granted myself a little bit more time, I would have headed up to Chiang Mai or down to the southern islands, both of which is less touristy and what many travelers love about Thailand the most. Next time, I suppose. After some farewells to my favorite hostel owner in Bangkok, I departed for Saigon.
Dyed my hair white/silver!
Saigon was a bit too hectic for my taste. Perhaps it is because I am a New Yorker that I am not too fond of big cities when traveling. Traffic in Nepal was pretty bad but I believe the traffic in Vietnam, or maybe in Saigon in particular, is way worse. In Nepal, there is no such thing as a lane divider and people drive whichever direction they want. There are no lights and when crossing the street, one really just has to brace themselves. Despite this chaos, the Nepalese didn't seem like they were out to kill pedestrians and would slow down to let one pass by or honk to alert they are behind. Here in Vietnam, I do not know how many times I have had surprise attacks by motorbikes and or how many close calls I have had from getting my toes crushed by someone's tires. Now there is an overwhelming amount of anxiety every time I have to cross.
After a few days of pampering myself with fine dining and a trip to the hair salon, I needed to get away from the city life, and headed to Da Lat.
Prior to Da Lat I was being extremely lazy and took some time off from adventuring. I needed to start moving around again. Most tourists come to Da Lat for the canyoning opportunities and to see the farmlands. Despite the fact that I do not know how to swim and I am terrible at all sports, I signed myself up for this one day excursion.
Our group of 10 had three guides, all of which were fairly young Vietnamese guys that had probably already done this tour a million times. Still, they were all very energetic and helpful, constantly using the two sayings their company drilled into them - "Don't be lazy, be crazyyyyy" and "PHOOOTTTOO", which at first was funny but later made me want to claw at my throat.
Free-fall jumping from the 7m point. It took me forever to get off that rock, and I was shaking uncontrollably (from shock?) after I got out of the water. "Do it while you're young" I kept telling myself before this shot. Anyway, now I can say I did it!
Watersliding with Rich
Getting swallowed and pushed down by a strong waterfall. Not shown here: narrow and shallow water below where we are supposed to drop ourselves. Probably the scariest part of the day.
Team BaBaBa forever!
The next day I rented a minivan (which came with its own little Vietnamese driver) with ten other people from my hostel and ventured out to see the weasel poop coffee farm, a cricket farm and waterfalls that we later attempted to walk into (wasn't that great of an idea).
Taking a whiff of the infamous weasel poop coffee
We have been drinking your poo!
Fried crickets
Our adorable driver that put up with all the terrible things we did that day.
After Da Lat, our crew had started to part ways. Conveniently Mo and I were on the way to Hoi An on the same bus, so I booked the same hostel as him. In the end we were traveling together for around ten days. Hoi An is a coastal town with one of the most beautiful beaches. After all this hustle and bustle, I decided to pamper myself with a custom made wool coat, a bum out session on the beach, and a cooking class.
So ready for tailoring
Lanterns in the making
Bought some jewelry from this adorable little lady
True chefs as proven by the hats
Callum and his ridiculous cone hat (choked by it when the hat caught the wind mid-motorbike ride..)
Most people do a motorbike trip from Hoi An to Hue because of the incredible scenic route on the Hai Van pass. Unfortunately I did not know how to ride a motorbike, nor would I have mastered such skills in a day's time. Luckily I found a traveler kind enough to offer me a lift on the somewhat treacherous path (thank you Amy!).
What a stylish motorbike outfit
We arrived in Hue around 12 hours later, exhausted but alive. The next day I headed for Phong Nha, and once again the gang was breaking up. It always hurts a little to say goodbye, but the great thing about traveling is that you are always meeting new people, or bumping into travelers you met previously. It's an entire network and community in itself. I am alone, but I am never really lonely.
Ready for battle on the octagon of Phong Nha Cave
Group pic with one of our Phong Nha moto drivers (because we are too incapable of motorbiking ourselves)
And now I am sitting on the rooftop of my hostel in Sapa overlooking the beautiful mountain valley and listening to a Vietnamese man do terrible karaoke (I think my ears are starting to bleed). For no one's fault but my own, I managed to lose my credit card, therefore short on cash and limited in what I can and cannot do for the rest of my travels. This means sitting around in my room all day, eating very very cheap food, and walking everywhere, even if that means a 3 hour walk to the village of the H'mong.
Overall, it feels very strange and pleasant to be in Vietnam as an American.The first stop I took in Vietnam was to the War Remnants museum in Saigon, which gave a viewpoint of the Vietnam War (or what they would call the American War) from the Vietnamese side. To my knowledge, after so many years the United States has still not made a case for reparations with the people of Vietnam and hardly for our country's own veterans. Even with the war over, so many people are still suffering, either with birth defects from chemical warfare or by active land mines that are still scattered across the lands. Whenever locals ask me where I am from, it almost hurts to say USA. It tastes bitter in my mouth every time. But despite the amount of damage we have caused, the Vietnamese people are still so friendly. It almost feels like Vietnam has taken the role of the bigger person and has not forgiven us per say, but has decided to move on in order to progress. I have heard so many vicious stories about this place, but I actually really love Vietnam. I am still not sure who wins my heart more - Nepal or Vietnam?
Exactly 14 days from today I am flying back to New York from Bangkok. To be honest I am having mixed feelings. I am very tired of living out of my backpack and looking like a slob. I do not remember the last time I have felt clean and presentable. Someone was talking about how she forgot what heels felt like and I even forgot about the existence of heels, since my only option for shoes here is my good old Chacos. On the other hand, I don't think I can go back to my life in New York, where a sandwich can easily cost $10. I already complain about spending $3 on dinner because I am living on $20 a day (accomodation + food + local transport). I will also miss the travelers I meet along the way, and the endlessly beautiful landscapes that I stumble upon. My nights will no longer consist of sitting on the street taking shots with old Vietnamese grandpas. I will miss exploring and having every day be a new adventure. Two weeks is going to fly by in a second.
My prediction is that my next post will be covered in tears, denial, and travel sickness (as opposed to homesickness, not motion sickness). Beware.