Ha Long Bay - The Frelisher love nest, WTF?

Ha Long Bay (Vietnam)

So there I was, sitting on the middle deck of an old converted, see ‘tricked out’, junk called the Bhaya, overlooking the serene, misty and I’d need to add, almost mystical surroundings of what is Ha Long Bay. Large, irregular limestone rocks, cliffs and hills or however you’d like to refer to them, jutting out of the calm waters somewhere near the Gulf of Tonkin. It’s a more than apt place to be a little reflective and allow your mind to drift off into the thoughts and images of your own calling. Although the setting that I describe is already a little late in the day ,(for this day at least) as it misses some critical checkpoints that got Jet and myself here in the first place, so lets backtrack a little and find out where it all went wrong.

The annoying sound of the radio going off at 6:00am served almost immediately as a reminder of what we should not have been doing about 2-3hrs earlier. Jet and I were in that comatose security blanket that only alcoholic punishment can bring to the table. It’s funny, in these situations pending commitments are always mentally traded off against the time you have assured yourself was available, meaning, that you always seek the least amount of time possible to make a deadline and then deduct another 20mins from that lowest amount. On this day our goal was to get ready for an 8:30am pick-up which was to take us out to Ha Long Bay for a two day - one night cruise. As was now becoming a morning ritual, the headaches, dry mouths, extended nausea and dizziness were par for the course after another boisterous Hanoi evening escapade. We did our best of course, tried to get ourselves motivated and even threw a little AC/DC into the mix for inspiration, and somehow, by our own steely resolve, we mustered up some internal fortitude and delved into our energy reserves of God knows what in order to make it to the breakfast table and then converted that to an 8:30am minivan pick up from the front of the hotel

Ha Long Bay is about a 3-4 hour run south-east of Hanoi. Personally the scenery outside of the minivan window for me was the occasional mental snapshot taken between sleeping most of the way out there, from that perspective however it was a pleasant run and one that mentally took only a third of the time in my mind than was actually the case. Now, to fill in those that may not know much about Ha Long Bay, it goes a little something like this, this place is a UNESCO World Heritage site and is basically a vast area (1550kms squared) that features thousands of limestone karts and isles (1960 approx) in various shapes and sizes. It features a dense cluster of monolithic islands, each topped with jungle vegetation, rising spectacularly and quite haphazardly from the ocean. The formation of the area, geologists’ state, was derived from a combination of orogeny (huge tectonic plate shifts), marine regression and marine transgression over a period of nearly 500 million years. In short, the place is visually spectacular and it’s absolutely no surprise that this place was pushing hard to be recognised as one of the seven natural wonders of the world.

After a little bit of a mix up with drop off points, I think our driver had less information than we did, we finally found the Bhaya café, where in turn we were given a briefing before jumping onto small launches and ferried out to the Bhaya junk which was anchored a couple of hundred metres offshore. As we pulled up to the back of the junk all the crew were basically on deck awaiting our arrival and as we climbed on board and walked into the reception area we were showered with rose petals. Kind of kitsch welcome but also kind of cool at the same time.

The Bhaya - Ha Long Bay - Vietnam

Crew introductions on the Bhaya

On arrival we were all ushered up to the top deck where the dining area was situated. The crew was again lined up for us and we were introduced to them individually, which was a nice touch. I think Jet already had his eye on the young Vietnamese teen queen that was to be the ‘masseur’ for the next few days , ‘aha, a happy time to be had I’m sure’. What I did find amusing is that the French manager then started calling out the family names of all the guests on board in order to hand our cabin keys, and then for some reason also decided to add their country of origin for good measure. So it went something like, ‘…and in Room 109 we have the Messoti’s from Italy!’, for a split second it felt like the start of a Van Damme movie, akin to the name roll call out in Bloodsport , everyone eyeing off the other contestants, seeing if they could gauge anything from their appearance, walk and general presentation before the big showdown (whatever the hell that was going to be? Maybe we were going to have an Iron Chef type international session on the top deck at some point).

So the wooden junk had obviously had a major overhaul since its last commercial operating days. Having two main accommodation decks where the cabins were located and an upper deck for dining, the junk was built and furnished in a distinctly oriental style (no surprise huh), the cabins themselves were quite spacious considering the size of the boat. The main window looking out of the room was also quite large which in turn could be slid open in order for the occupants to be able to soak up the elements, and whilst the bathroom was compact, it was still quaint and functional. The only issue or problem the Jet and I had was the ‘double bed’ smack bang in the middle of the room,ah yeah! This all of a sudden changed the desired environment from a simple ‘bro getaway’ to a type of Frelisher love nest. Not right by any stretch of the imagination but something that needed to be dealt with with a good ‘ole cup of HTFU - we’d just have to suck it up and get over the close proximity.

The Frelisher love nest!!!?? WTF?????

As the junk gently starting carving its way through the waters of Ha Long Bay and the sun cut through the mist that had blanketed the limestone formations until that time, we settled back and enjoyed the sights that were being offered. I’ve got to say, other than being a truly beautiful and intriguing place the cruise for the remainder of the afternoon was just the type of relaxing environment I needed. Quite a few times I sat out on the main deck with either a coffee or a drink in hand, the sun warming up my face, taking in the surroundings and entertaining myself with my own thought skipping and shaping. There’s not enough money in the world that can buy that kind of relaxed introspection.

Cruising on Ha Long Bay

Ha Long Bay - Vietnam

A few hours out from the city of Ha Long Bay we stopped off at a local fishing village which basically looked like a row of small cottages, colourfully painted, built on top of large buoyant barrels and wooden platforms. I’d imagine that if the place ever froze over then the only difference between this place and a comparative location, say in the northern part of Hudson Bay would be the total count on the number of ‘eh’s’ and ‘aboots’ that you’d hear, oh, and the fact that these guys are Vietnamese and the Hudson Bay locals are good ole fashioned Canadians. In any case we were able to jump off the Bhaya for a while and were transferred to the fishing village by small launch and then into local row boats. It was interesting to cruise around this area which was quite sheltered from the elements by the huge limestone cliffs and I’m sure in turn would make a great weekend getaway, if you ever had that inclination.

Area near the fishing village - Ha Long Bay

Late afternoon and early evening on the boat was another relaxed affair. Jet crashed out in the room for a while whilst I took in the sunset from the top deck and also got caught up in a spring roll making/cooking and eating class for good measure. Just for the hell of it, and so I can remember it down the track, I’ve included the recipe and methodology below (well actually I was going to but I noted that it would take up too much space, so stuff it, I’ll include it somewhere else).

Frichot in 'pose down' on the Bhaya

Upper deck on the Bhaya

As the night set in I made friends with the barman and had a few cocktails out on the main deck, another great experience as all you could hear was the lapping of the water against the boat and the only things you could see were the large silhouette’s of limestone karts against the night sky. As my list of drowned cocktails grew and the hours slipped on by, I had worked my way into the Bhaya dining hour with the aplomb, dexterity and expertise of senior ‘playa’. Jet had also awoken from his slumber just in time to encounter the several courses that the Bhaya had on offer for dinner, I think it went something like oysters & prawns, pumpkin soup, fish, cheese and crackers, tiramisu etc. By the time it was all over Jet and I had waved the white flag in defeat and we made the call to underline and punctuate this day with sleep relatively early. After several three to four hour turn around most days, the 22nd of Dec 2009 had our measure and we retired to the Frelisher love nest for much needed recovery.

Frichot, out on the Ha Long high seas!

Relaxed and taking it all in

Hanoi - 'That's some trippy poltergesit action'

Hanoi (Vietnam)

I don’t know how we managed it but we appeared to both pull up reasonably well after only a four hour turn around from the proceedings which had originated the day before this one, in a city and country foreign to the current place and time. Somehow we were seated at the Hanoi Elegance 3 breakfast table by 8am, Jet carving it up Kelly Slater fashion, a good ‘ole Hanoi style omelette, whilst I got my ‘grease on’ with a gravy beef baguette. I mean it sounds a little ‘down and dirty’ but it was just what I needed after consuming 20 or so spring rolls fours hours earlier on the back of litres of Halida, Hanoi’s finest brew.

It was all fairly relaxed and mid tempo for most of the day. Jet had himself a mission to pick up some knee length socks, which of course could not be found, outside of there being twenty or so potential offers to sell him stockings. We also purchased more than $1,000,000 worth of potential copyright infringement fines by spending approximately $10 on ripped CD’s, but hey, as the Village People use to say, ‘You can’t stop the music!’, and then after cruising through the Old Quarter for most of the morning we revisited our own Hanoi field of dreams from the night before. Steps were retraced, images drawn from the haze of alcoholic confusion and then a consensus made that perhaps stopping in at a bar called the ‘Hair of the Dog’ might just be the valuable tonic needed to prop us up for another day in the capital.

Hair of the Dog - Hanoi - Vietnam

 Disappointingly we were quite rational about our selection and downed several caffeine boosters with sweetened condensed milk in order to get our hearts a racin’, and admittedly it kind of worked for a while, well, until such time as the omnipresent cyclo riders finally won the war they had been waging with our stoic senses, your heroes on the streets succumbing to their incessant requests for cyclo tours around the Old Quarter…and yeah, it was cruisy – a nice glide through the traffic which allowed us to just absorb the pace at which this place operates.

Taking a spin around the Old Quarter - Hanoi - Vietnam

After finding ourselves at the top of Hoan Kiem lake post cycle escapade we walked down the western side, Jet making it his mission to find himself a red tie to accentuate the black shorts, shirt and shoes outfit that he had going. Our adventures for the day however had morphed into a concerted search for caffeine, caffeine and more of it the farther we travelled. Late in the afternoon we stopped in at a place called the Fast Food café for another Vietnamese brew. A totally non-descript place, not famous for anything that we knew of and definitely not mentioned in any Lonely Planet guide, this place,as far as the Hanoi café scene went was a pure vanilla option. So Jet ordered himself some type of local soup because he’s hanging out for one, I just hung back a little and decided to go with the single coffee option. Jet at this point decides that he wants one also and in turn the coffee’s are delivered to our table at the same time, both placed closer to the centre of the table that to the edge. Now both Jet and I vague out a little and escape into own head space for a while, just taking in the surrounds and contemplating the last few days in our own way. Then out of my periphery vision I see Jets’ coffee slide a good 10cms across the table towards him, it wasn’t touched, the table wasn’t bumped, in my mind there was no clear explanation for how it happened. A moment after the event however my mind kind of dismisses it, I’m not sure as to why. It wasn’t until a few minutes later that Jet asked me as to whether I’d seen the event and I confirmed that I indeed had. We checked the table for potential slants, slippery surfaces, magnets, pranksters, Ashton Kutcher, but nothing! There wasn’t any logical reason that we could attribute to what we had both witnessed, a full cup of coffee just moved, no assistance at all. There was some trippy poltergeist business going on there!

Recovering from our own private universe of a Ripley’s Believe It or Not induced head spin, we travelled back to a famous lakeside institution, Fanny’s ice creamery for a little bit of Vietnamese sweetness. This place was gooood, gooood! The flavours were outstanding and man those coffees, the best that I’ve ever encountered in Vietnam, which in turns meant that they’re the best I’d had anywhere. Of course Jet had already acquired a fan club before we’d even taken a seat and by the time our desserts had hit the table he’d already mentally ‘smashed’ three or four of the young waitresses that were offering some decent customer service to him, yeah, it was the rock star thing again! Seriously, it really felt like I didn’t exist. I was having conversations with my good self anytime Frichot was around and engaged in any sort of dialogue with another person, *sigh*. In any case Fanny’s was damn good and we made ourselves a promise to return one night prior to leaving, on this night however we needed to be making preparations for what we both knew was going to be another big one. Trudging back to the Hanoi Elegance we dodged bikes, cars, ‘Frichot paparazzi’ and monkeys before being able to rest up for a few hours and spin some tunes prior to heading out.

 

Our evening started off with a touch of style, albeit with absolutely crappy service. We ventured to the Hanoi Garden restaurant, a Tripadvisor recommended joint not too far from where we were staying. The initial look of the place was quite intriguing, set around a fairly large courtyard some way back from a main road, the moment you were inside the noise of the endless traffic was relatively muted. We managed to get ourselves a nice table in the courtyard and settled in for a hell of a meal, kicking off with some springs rolls then added several other dishes such as blackened pepper catfish, bread crumbed deep fried fish, sauteed shrimp stuffed with cheese and bits and pieces of several other things. Where the Hanoi Garden encountered hard times however was in the service department. Obviously Frichot and I had shown up towards the back end of their evening service and even whilst we were mid meal these clowns started removing all the tables around us. By the time we’d finished we were the only turkeys, sitting on the only table out in the courtyard, and even worse, the waiter that had remained with us until what was their ‘supposed’ closing time had put on his coat and split for home or some Hanoi Garden after party. Seriously, Frichot and I are looking at this guy walk out and both turned to make the ‘Captain Obvious’ comment, ‘Isn’t that our waiter'? Well yes, it was, we’re now flying solo. So there we stayed, all finished, waiting patiently for someone to assist us with finalising our bill at the end of the night. We probably waited 20 mins before someone questioned both the logic and viability of leaving two white boys out in the garden overnight. Hanoi Garden, I haven’t rated you on TripAdvisor yet, but trust me, you’re going down!!

'Where did everybody go?' - Hanoi Garden Restaurant - Hanoi

Now, the scene of last evenings crimes against humanity turned into some sort of homecoming for us on this night. A few warm up cocktails of the daiquiri/mojito style at the Hair of the Dog, then a short crappy stay at a cheesy, sleazy dive before making our way to the Funky Buddha with the familiarity of Hanoi stalwarts for our version of Hanoi Nights round 2 and happened thankfully to encounter the same vibe that had greeted us the night before. Ms Funk n’ Breaks DJ was off working her fantastic grooves again and in turn my main man was attracting attention with his ‘lady boy’ locks and new wave moves on the dance floor,and you know the deal now, as the night progresses, alcohol is consumed and fairy tales are born. From this point on I only have the vaguest of recollections of holding up the fort at the bar whilst some Russian mobsters decided that Jet and his Invisible mate, the one that they sat on, aka me, were more than worthy of a few free rounds. There was also a few rounds of shots bought by some Vietnamese groupies and somewhere along the line an invisible basketball that Jet was playing with somehow got passed around for 20 mins. It would have been a weird sight to see if it wasn't so funny, a few people got into that one actually.

All OK!? Obviously it was! Funky Buddha bar - Hanoi

Me making friends with all the 'Invisible People' of Hanoi - Funky Buddha Bar

Kind of reminds me of my Year 10 formal!

We were awash in a furious sea of alcohol, I was the G'n'T hero at the bar and our Halida freak Frichot spent most of the time getting down with his bad self on the dance floor. I chatted with the bar staff, more specifically with this 21yr old girl called Vanessa who had made her home in Hanoi for the last three years. Much in the same vein as the night before, the lights came on early at the Funky Buddha meaning that we were required migrate up the street to a new abode. On this morning Vanessa assisted us in continuing the session at some joint that was familiar to her but for the life of me I can’t remember the name of. I only know that at some point Frichot disappeared for a long while, a few days later I found out that he’d crashed out in the bathroom for most of this MIA time. As the morning wore on and I got my ‘flirt on’  and we drank ourselves to a point where the hangover from the previous night had looped the clock and caught up with us again. It was right there that we needed to bid all comers adieu and we stumbled out into the streets where Vanessa had organised a mate of hers to give us a lift home. It was kind of amusing waking up the staff at the Hanoi Elegance sometime close to 4am and them looking at us like we were the worlds greatest piss heads, priceless in any language.

Hanoi - The Rock Star and the Invisible Man

Hanoi (Vietnam)
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Air Asia got us into Hanoi at about 9:00am. It was the first time that I’d seen Hanoi from the air as previous arrivals/departures had been in the dark, it was amazing to witness the tapestry of rice fields, high banks, raised dirt roads and small towns/villages right up until almost a couple of minutes before landing. I mean, it’s a typically South-East Asian scene and if anyone was to ask me how I’d imagine the surrounds of your stereotypical city/town, then this would be it, but with that said, this is also the capital, a city with an estimated population of 6.5million and a place that PWC has estimated will be THE city with the highest GDP growth from 2008-2025. Hanoi is going to be coming along just swimmingly by all accounts.

We disembarked pretty swiftly, make our way through customs, picked up our bags and headed out into the arrivals terminal. For some of the complaints that I’ve read online about Hanoi airport I’ve simply got to say that they’re unwarranted. These Commie’s are swift, efficient and even occasionally have smiles on their faces? How different are they to our bogan knob jockeys back home are seem to be harbouring a persistent grudge against who knows what exactly?

The Hotel Elegance 3 had kindly arranged a pick-up from the airport and as we shot off down the main road into Hanoi, our hangovers lingering and our cloudy minds dissipating slightly, it all became familiar to me. I’d been on the same road nearly two years earlier to the day, and that time, just as I was now, simply amazed and also made me slightly wary of the F1 type of manoeuvring of all vehicles, plus their penchant to use their horns the moment a fly brushed their windscreen. The pace is hectic, chaotic, and yet it's also kind of organic. Cars move wildly but they get to where they’re going in one way or another. As I’ve discussed previously, the hierarchy on the roads here are cars first, bikes/scooters second, all else third. The bigger you are, the more advantages you have and the more rights you acquire. It's the law of the urban jungle.

Crossing the Red River and driving into the centre of Hanoi and into the Old Quarter proper I remembered exactly why I fell for this place the last time I was here. It’s quaint, gritty, charming and vibrant in what appears to be a perpetual state of chaos, albeit some type of well crafted or orchestrated chaos. The building are unfamiliar to my Western senses, they’re not very wide but usually a few storeys tall, the reason of which I’ve come to discover are purely for tax purposes. The wider the building, evidently, the more tax that you’re required to pay. Perhaps the concept of strata title hasn't quite made it to Hanoi as yet, and really, how can you be allowed to box compartments or lots of air anyway?

We entered the Hanoi Elegance 3 at about 10:30am. A great looking hotel, and friendly staff which we noticed immediately. An energetic member of staff, Autumn was her name, greeted us and then provided us with a run down of the standard formalities. It’s at that point that I notice what would be a mild annoyance for me over the next few weeks. This girl is talking to us both, apparently, but is fully locked into Jet’s appearance. I could have danced naked and she would not have averted her eyes an iota. As I’m answering questions she’s responding but looking straight at Jet. This sensation  I dubbed the ‘Rockstar & Invisible Man Syndrome’ . At this point I placed it down to a once off scenario, you know, the girls' intrigued, it’s all good, but ladies and gentlemen no, this was nothing in comparison to what was to follow over the next few weeks!!
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In any case, The Rockstar and I settle into our room for a few hours. It’s very comfortable, large and more than great value for the price that we’d paid. Both of us crash out for a few hours, coming to terms with another flight and sleeping off the remains of the long evening before. Later in the afternoon the both of us smarten up and we hit the pavement, hanging a left and walking up Hang Bong St towards Hoan Kiem lake. It’s now that the Freakshow reality kicks into overdrive. Every person that we pass is looking, staring, pointing at my man Frichot like he’s some kind of superstar.

Typical street scape - Hanoi - Vietnam

For some Hanoi traffic action check out the link HERE (link on!)

 As we walk people either laugh, wave, give him the big thumbs up or request photos. Seriously, that first walk ended up being kind of nuts. We walked all the way up Hang Bong road and settled into a large, stylish café on Hoan Kiem lake. The opportunity to get one of those famous Vietnamese coffee’s into me was one that I wasn’t prepared to wait for.

Vietnamese coffee, beats all countries hands down

As a side note, for those unaccustomed to Vietnamese coffee, let me say this. It’s strong, has a hell of a lot of flavour and is usually served with a certain amount of sweetened condensed milk that when stirred through the coffee makes it one of my favourite brews/drinks of all time. It’s really that good. As I start downing my coffee and my mind starts drifting off to other thoughts and places one of the staff turns up out our table and asks for a photo with Jet.This kid is famous already and hasn't sold one album in Vietnam, yet.

As the sun drops on our first evening in Hanoi we cruised the streets, doing a fair amount of souvenir shopping before wondering into Minh’s Jazz bar for several drinks and some dinner. We had walked in before any band had made their way onto the stage but the place had a funky vibe going on already, like there was a weight of laid back grooves that somehow remained after the tunes had disappeared. We continued to drink, getting more into the spirit of this trip with every moment. This also transformed into our dinner stop for the evening, which overall was pretty good as well, although the staff had some real difficulties with interpreting what our request for ‘bread’ was. Explanations of sandwiches, baguettes, miming eating a sandwich in the end got us nowhere. Slightly exasperated I put it to the guy that he should go and ‘Google it’ in order to get the picture.I know, maybe I should have picked up a few words in Vietnamese , would have made things easier.

Minh's Jazz Bar - Hanoi - Vietnam

Not quite three sheets to the wind but definitely feeling cheery, my memory map in play, I directed us to the main bar area of Hanoi that I recalled from previous exploits. Starting at a place called the Red Lounge, which was kind of engaging but had an atmosphere of an old age home, we moved down Ta Hien street until we found a place called the Funky Buddha. Now this place was ‘Da Shiz’ , the tunes that were being dropped by the female DJ were freakin’ awesome, it was some type of upbeat electro dance/trance type of sound. Not something that I thought  I’d get into but I/we certainly did. Jet was obviously in his element and he was on the dance floor cutting moves for most of the night. I was happy to get a little lost in my mind and drink most of the night away. It was fantastic.

Frichot and his 'Groovethang' - The Funky Buddha - Hanoi

Yeah, whatever - Funky Buddha - Hanoi

As the lights came on towards the end of the evening we managed to hit a couple of bars before we stumbled into another joint that was thankfully open and were more than accommodating in that they kindly made us a few batches of spring rolls at about 3:00am. So there we were, in the backstreets of the Old Quarter, fairly tanked by this staged and taking up residence at the bar with the staff, sharing spring rolls and talking absolute gibberish, it was fantastic. Somehow my guidance system was still in operation by the time we left the last watering hole for that morning and we managed to make it back to our abode at something like 4am! A sign of things to come perhaps? There's no perhaps there my friend, it was going to happen for sure!

Rockstar or Karate Kid, you be the judge - Old Quarter, 4am - Hanoi

Hanoi, a great place to chill!

What type of 'Hanoi Moment' was this? Our eyes might give away the secret!

Kuala Lumpur - Beatles mania continues...

 Kuala Lumpur (Malaysia)

A few mins post the 7-11 event, Jet provides me with an explanation of why his food made a return trip up his oesophagus rather than making a much cheaper single journey, you know, why by the return ticket if you're not coming back? Apparently it was the putrid smell of a man that was making residence just outside of the store that was the trigger. I would have put more money on the alcohol consumption myself but hey, working in tandem you kind of get the picture of where the carnage found its trigger point.

Back at the Swiss Inn Hotel at 3:30am with a quick change over required and a need to get moving to my hotel which was near the airport, both Jet and I had taken the mental and physical turn onto the corner of Struggle St and We're Tanked Drive. A familiar place, we'd stayed there a number of times. I'm doing the mental calculations and I know that we need to move  rather soon in order to have enough time up our sleeves to make the flight but we're already starting to feel the pain of  what we had accomplished just a few hours ago. I think more by sheer will than anything else we were able to make our way out of the hotel at 4:00am or thereabouts and back onto the streets. Still at that point in time I was mentally running through the logistics, thinking that even if everything works relatively well in our favour then a 6:30am flight out of Kuala Lumpur to Hanoi is going to be a tall order. Still, the great thing about KL is that you can get a cab at  most anytime of night or morning, so once we were outside the doors of the hotel a magical yellow taxi appeared just as we needed it, and whoosh,  we were swept away to the airport.

So I've heard various comments about the anticipation of travel and idealised images of travel, you know, the images and notions that you place in your head prior to getting somewhere being particularly 'idealic', kind of like glamour photography being the best form of you at a particular moment in time, (the reality is that glamour photography is for no hopers with low, low, low self-esteem). The thought or philosophy of the idyllic sense of travel being that these notions are inevitably diluted by your reality of a situation as your actual presence at the said destination (when that day actually arrives) is tainted by worries, concerns, dilemmas, thoughts, pictures of ugliness, bad hand jobs etc. Frankly I think this type of thinking is bullshit because quite often it's the element of the unknown, or the surprising elements of travel that actually make the journey even more exhilarating. Just my opinion.

Back to the story. We raced off into  the darkness of an early KL morning in order to pick up my belongings at the Tune hotel and as Jet and I drifted in and out of an alcohol induced semi coma I wondered whether it would have been an almighty tragedy if we missed the flight, I also thought of other things I'm sure but I can't seem to remember any of them for the life of me. In any case our cab does the nice thing on his part  and wakes us up about a block or so out from the Tune Hotel, it's just on 5:00am now, we're about 2 mins driving distance from the airport but I still need to pack my stuff, have bit of a wash and then split.

The Tune Hotel is one of those new wave budget style places that give you what you pay for. A bed, a wash basin, a bathroom and that's about it. It's on the cheap, so when I was planning this trip initially I picked the closest hotel to the airport that would allow me to make a 6:30am flight without the drama. I obviously didn't anticipate the all nighter that we had just pulled or even the fact that we were struggling to remain moderately sane in order to get the basics in order, i.e., passports, tickets, wallet, baggage. So I jumped into the shower, woke myself up a little, and do what I needed to. Jet immediately crashed out on the bed, obviously he's not coming back to reality anytime soon. I'm in and out of the shower relatively quickly and ready to roll at about 5:20am or so, I pull Jet out of his coma and urge him to motor because now we're cutting it fine!

5:30am, outside the Tune Hotel - KL LCCT....how tanked are we!?

Does it look better with sunnies on? KL LCCT Airport - Kuala Lumpur - Malaysia

Jet and I struggle to make it to the front of the hotel but we do. Hanging out for a courtesy bus to the airport we both do sanity checks and realise that we're still a lot closer to Wonderland than Reality World in our minds, the hysterical laughter coming from us both confirmed that line of thought. Still we manage to  make it to the airport and as usual in situations such as these where time is not working in your favour, the place is packed! My internal logistical alarm bells go off and I know that for this to be successful, we need to manoeuvre a little and take some immoral/unethical short cuts. First angle, jump the standard baggage scan queue. We do that reasonably well, even though I'm sure some people were a little ticked at the 'drunk Australians' jumping in front of them - (:). Second hurdle, our check-in counter is closed and we're directed to the 'all purpose' check in at the end of the hall. We move as best we can and jump on the back of a queue that's moving as fast as midday traffic in Caracas! Another opportunity presents itself, we tack ourselves on the back of a much shorter line that looks as though it's split into two lines, but nobody can really be certain. As we move forward we get some Pommy git start up at us,

'Oi, you realise there's a queue here'.

Jet and I are focused, we have our eyes on the prize and don't flinch. He starts up again, something akin to 'Oi, I'm talkin' to youse, there's a queue here'.

We hold our ground, there's nothing that's going to stop us from making that counter/baggage check-in on time and under budget. Again, this turkey starts up, 'I'm not taking this, why don't we take this outside!?'.

OMG, you limp dick moron!  I say something over my shoulder that I think was relatively close to  'Shut up you dickhead', and of course he ups the ante, demanding  that we  now take it outside!? Now, can you see the fatal flaw in his plan? Here he is waiting in a queue, bothered that 'someone' has jumped in front of him, obviously wasting his time, and now he wants to 1) Fight us about it, 2) Take it outside and waste even more time and 3) Probably miss his flight. Do you get the nonsensical and utterly stupid thought process going on in the head of this monkey. In any case, Jet and I call his bluff and check-in, his wife or girlfriend knowing how stupid he's being tells him to calm down, all the while the fat oath is muttering to himself about God knows what. Some people really do have shit for brains.

Thankfully it all works in our favour, we check-in, get through customs and security clearance with a few minutes to spare and pretty much walk onto the 6:30 flight to Hanoi without any troubles at all. All nighter 1 completed, and many, many more to come. Vietnam, time to be 'owned'!

Melbourne to Kuala Lumpur - From Melbourne to Beatles mania

Melbourne (Australia) to Kuala Lumpur (Malaysia)

I think most people have that inherent feeling of understanding or acceptance when they know that their day is going to travel much further than the standard 16hrs or so. Mentally  I was calibrating, undertaking old algebraic constructions, trading off time possibilities in my head as to where I may be able to manage sleep later in the day. These are the lies that you sell yourself, the side of common sense that gives way to 'Good time Charlie' somewhere on the dark, dank streets of a foreign city. That however was to be many hours ahead of me and for now, I was in the great Australian city of culture and style.

Usually when I'm down in Melbourne I kick things off at a little cafe in St.Kilda called Sultino's. Unfortunately it had almost been a year since I'd made residence here and it was on New Years Day 2009 where Jet and I were recovering from a night spent on AC/DC lane, post margarita madness on the Yarra. For this morning however the space was kind of warm, homely and just the right type of everything to make for a great breakfast. Not that it was extravagant, just a few cups of coffee, some vanilla porridge and I was good to go ,but how to describe it, I guess it's like catching those lost rays of sunlight on a windy, coldish day at the beach and basking in its warmth for as long as you can manage, kind of like that.  In any case, I made my way down to Acland street for a little shopping post morning infusion before heading down the Tulla expressway and lining up for a 13:30 flight to KL.

My trip however could have ended right there and then at the check in counter. As I was going through a process that I'd been through many times before the lady at the counter stops me and asks whether I had another passport, 'Well, no sista', I have but one'. Her face turns a little ashen, like she's preparing herself for a barrage of abuse which will be inevitable after what she's about to tell me. 'Well sir, you only have four months left on your passport, I'm not sure we can let you fly today'. Here starts my explanation. Well, I have return tickets well before the day of visa expiry, I have a Vietnamese entry visa only valid for a month, well before the expiry of my passport, what's the issue? She defaults and calls in hired help, her faulty little pop gun was not going to take on the heat of what I was packing and ready to offload. Her supervisor rocks in and explains the situation, I come back and explain mine. He tries telling me that my visa has expired to which I responded 'Um, no mate, it's not expired but it does expire before my passport does, do you know why?' Because I'm only going to Vietnam for a few weeks turkey and I'll be back a couple of days after New Years. He comes back at me with something irrelevant and then states that the visa is 'probably working in my favour' - yes, thought you might see it my way. After a little additional banter they let me on the flight.  Bloody hell, it wasn't that big a deal was it?

The flight to KL was uneventful, which is exactly how I like them. I slept a lot, watched 500 days of Summer a couple of times and then realised that the girl he catches at the end of the movie, Autumn, is way hotter and I'd much prefer watching a movie called 500 days of Autumn, instead or anything relating to Autumn really, the ditz of a guy doesn't have to even be in it, he's kind of irrelevant to the plot that's operating in my head. A few red wines, a couple of pages of reading and we were landing at KL LCC terminal right on the mark of 6:40pm as all our guide books had suggested. This was the departure point from the 'real world' and now, we entered the Frelisher zone where reality and time trading was the norm, it also suspended all semblance of rational thought as alcohol became our only companion, and so we begin.

I check into the Tune hotel which is located 2 mins by courtesy van from the airport. It's 7:30pm and our flight the next day is at 7:00am. Just to give you advanced notice, I won't be seeing the inside of this room again until about 5:00am the next day, you can kind of already tell where this story is heading, right? I also kind of know what's going to happen. I'm running logistics in my head and I know it's an hour's journey from the airport to KL proper, so two hours travel to make it there and back. I also know that Jet will be lining up for several drinks and the suggestion of an 'all nighter' will be made early. I 'know this' and yet to convince myself to move I sell myself on the notion that we'll be reasonable this evening and make our way back here, to the Tune hotel, after just a couple. As I've said many times before, many a LONG night has commenced off the back of those infamous words, 'dude, lets just go for a few'.  I walk down to reception and ask the lady what's the best way to get into the city, are there direct buses? She looks strangely perplexed and asks me 'You want to go to the city now?', 'Well yes I do, I need to get my drink on obviously!Sentral from KL LCC and there I went, I was out and on my way.

Petronas Towers act like a beacon as you drive in. You can spot them kms away, they illuminate the KL skyline, they're spectacular and most importantly they signal that you're on the right track. I make KL Sentral by about 9:30pm and I'm in Chinatown, out the front of the Swiss Hotel at close to 10:00pm. After a little FB miscommunication of 'Where are you?', I'm here where are you', Jet and I caught each other at 10:30pm. Using my 'worldly' knowledge of KL and Chinatown from the April just past I offered the option of the Beatles bar, and that's where we went!

Swiss Hotel, Chinatown - Kuala Lumpur....and no, this is at the start of the night!

The Beatles Bar, Chinatown - Kuala Lumpur - 'Where many a good night are had'

Check out the Beatles Bar right HERE (link on!)

The Beatles Bar is 'chillout' central. One side has a raised platform, each sectioned  or kind of cordoned off by a long piece of chiffon,  making the low rider table and plush cushioning kind of exclusive, in its own way. For some reason Jet was a little hesitant to take off his shoes but we  managed to get him across the line on that request and  thus commenced on round after round of mudslides. As the debauchery continued the mudslides just got more and more 'awesome'. It's funny, sometimes you just know that a holiday is going to be fantastic right off the bat and at other times you know that you'll need to work for the pleasure ,this holiday was going to be a killer, that's something I could tell right off the bat!

Chilling at the Beatles Bar, Chinatown - Kuala Lumpur

 

I don't know how many times I heard 'I am the freakin' Walrus' played but by the time we threw in a change up into the drinking mix and went for an AK-47 to round of an already hellish night of drinking we were more than three sheets to the wind with still some mileage to cover before the Hanoi flight at 7:00am (oh yeah, the flight, damn, need to remind myself of that!). We finalised the longish bill at the Beatles bar and then headed across the street to the Reggae Bar but  unfortunately its standard 'schiestordom' music was blaring there, once again. A standard hideout for English backpackers, crap R'n'B music and interest being provided by the local honey pot traps that Jet swore all had testicles. He was more than likely right.

We exited and hit the streets in search of something, not really known what that something was going to be. We were strolling along, chatting happily to strangers, stealing Malaysian flags from shopfronts and then out of left field Frichot reneges on his 'no public urination policy'. Really, I'm not sure that he ever had one but I think it's something that he should implement, even if it becomes a 'no public urination in Malaysia' policy as that might save him from evil eyes and a possible rattan on the backside form of justice that this part of the world is known for.He escaped punishment, I don't know how but he did.

As our path through Bukit Bintang continued and wreaked carnage and destruction at all points, a small hamburger vendor grabbed our attention and we loaded up for a bite. Not sure what the hell Jet was doing but he was more than certain that the dude at this joint looked like Eddie Murphy. What's more, his persistent requests to get the guy to say, 'very funny mofo' (check it out on the link), kind of fell on deaf ears. Never the less as tanked as we were, the burger went down a treat, even though on review it looked like a mix of God knows what, combined with a slice of what the f*** is that!

The Atomic Bomb burger - what the hell was in it!!?

Understandably things after this point in time got a little hazy on all counts. The food that we devoured can stand as testament to that. We managed to make our way down the street a little further, who knows how long the hell we walked or travelled or what little distance we covered but we ended up at some all night Indian joint where the offering of some type of roti with chicken 'seemed' like it was a 'duck's nuts' option. I remember sitting there with Jet as he ordered up more beers trying to focus on the time that my mobile was displaying and just thinking, 'We'll be lucky to get back to the hotel, let alone catch a flight in a few hours'. Things were just kind of blurred and our well directed stagger turned just into a stagger of randomness. As we made our way back to the Swiss Hotel, mostly by good fortune than anything, we stopped in at a 7/11 to get 'something', I think at the time I needed to pick up more food. So as I'm walking around ,inside the shop, I hear a bottle smash at the front door and a little bit of commotion. At the time I didn't make sense of what was nor even  did I realise that it was Jet that dropped his bottle of beer at the front door. Making my way out of the store I see that 'someone' has managed to deposit their dinner right at the entrance of the 7/11. When I question Jet on that occurrence he kind of smiles as says in that very drunken, embarrassed type of manner,  'Dude, that was me'.....

(This night will be continued in the next entry)

Sydney to Melbourne - Drink and fly, bloody legend!!

Sydney (Australia) to Melbourne (Australia)

 Vietnam (2009/10)

The last day of work was a cruise, some intricacies, a few loose ends tied but all in all a blind man could have passed through the eye of a needle without needing to hold his breath, or something like that. In the now time honoured tradition of the BIP bar (Business Improvement & Projects), we set up shop around our strategically placed bar fridges and gathered from far and wide in order to set proceedings for the evening and of course the weeks in advance. The Christmas period shutdown at AAPT was a week earlier than usual, meaning that if I was going to travel (which isn't really a question for me these days), then I was going to have to jump the traditional Australian Christmas and New Year , fine by me also.

Back to the BIP bar in any case. I believe that the beer of choice for this Friday afternoon was Heineken and perhaps some variant of Coopers with some residual James Squire left over from the previous week. I believe that by the time my internal alarm was set for a jump from work to Sydney domestic I was four beers to the good and already filled with the Christmas spirit, or perhaps I should say that I was just anticipating spirit, in whatever format that may have been acquired. A couple of glasses of red at the airport as holiday settlers had me all warm and fuzzy for the slightly unnerving flight down to Avalon. As I've stated on and in this blog a few times now, a couple of ordinary flight experiences and a few too many viewings of various the now infamous TV programme, Air Crash Investigation, has turned me into an anxiety riddled flyer. Mostly for take-offs and landing and sometimes for engine thrust variations that come mid-flight. Seriously, I listen to every sound imaginable, it's awful.

This occasion was different however and serves as a satisfactory precedent to what my future flights may entail, for as at the time of boarding I was feeling ever so chilled from a nice beer and red wine induced buzz. My flight effectively turned from a potential 90 min torment infested inevitability to a 5 min, find your seat and crash event. Seriously, I located my seat and within minutes was asleep, the next thing I remember was an announcement advising the cabin crew to take their seats for landing. Now that's how drink and flying should operate, up and down without clowning around. Thank you alcohol, you and I have cemented the bond that we had established in a St.Patricks tavern blaze of glory all those years ago, you are my friend, confidant and spiritual advisor.

Night one of my adventure back to the 'Nam was about as sedate as it was ever going to get. An easy drive around the bay to Albert Park and then a cruise down to St.Kilda for dinner and drinks on Acland St, then back to the Bayview just on the stroke of midnight. All relatively painless, all ever so easy, but don't be fooled just yet, this ride was far from over and we were a long, long way from home Toto (speaking of Toto, whatever happened to that band?).

Vietnam - Don't call this a comeback!

Vietnam

I've known my mate Jet for something like 15yrs, so getting on to nearly half my life now. He's the type of guy that you'd be lucky to know and a friend you'd be even luckier to have. He's a typical Aquarian which means that he's got a great sense of humour, is witty, always has his  heart in the right place, is emotional in an undirected sense and can be, at times, flaky. That's why the Aquarian/Cancerian combination works, sometimes our conservative ways (that of the Cancerian) keeps them in check, at other times it's that Aquarian left of field thought process that provides us with the scope  to see things just a little differently from the typical hard line, logical progression.

Quick background check then. Jet made his way up to Sydney back in 1995 and found himself doing a little tele-marketing work for a place called Heidelberg Roof Restoration in late February of that same year. I had beaten him to the punch by a week and had already been losing my mind there in the evenings doing part-time work whilst filling my days with a B.Bus degree at UTS , which  by the way was none too successful. Our first few encounters/discussions did not particularly bode well for any sort of mutual respect, let alone a friendship. I was a little uni upstart, snobbish, thinking that I knew so much more than anyone else (what's changed right!?), and Jet was the Uladulla boy, bright eyed and bushy tailed with a pinch of naivety (all of which have gone, although he's still an Uladulla boy at heart). Without going into too many stories the most amusing is the one where he sold me the idea of wearing a suit and I sold him on the idea of wearing casual clothes exactly a day after we'd both worn the opposite form of clothing, (laughs out loud - insert here), Heidelberg, good times hey.

Fifteen years down now and during that time we had always discussed doing a trip together. Sure, we've done a few NYE's which have included rides down to Thredbo and Melbourne but not a journey through another country. So when Jet was considering heading off at the end of this year I tried to convince him to jump onto the ride that I had already planned which just happened to be a revisit to a favourite country of mine, Vietnam.

Where this idea started for me however was a couple of years ago when Jase and I had ventured into Vietnam for the first time. Aside from the fact that I absolutely fell for the place, especially the north, I got suckered into the the tailored clothing bonanza that was/is the town of Hoi An, a place that's approximately halfway down the coastline, some 30kms south of Da Nang. With the idea that one day soon I needed to return in order to get my tailored suit on, I booked myself in for a Vietnamese excursion and hey presto, there we have it, Back in Black with my man Frichot - game on!

As I write this first update of our trip to Vietnam I'm guessing that Frichot is cruising somewhere at 35,000 feet, burning up the sky miles at 900kms per hour on a fabulous Air Asia flight into KL. He is of course the advance party and will be the main scout for new bars, markets and all things debaucherous in KL before I fly out to meet him sometime on Saturday evening. So with that said, Let the Games begin, this trip is now officially open!