Getting A-Hue from the Party Scene

March 8th-10th

Our over-night bus arrived in Hue (pronounced Hoo-ay to clear up any confusion regarding my corny title) in the early morning. It conveniently dropped us off right in front of our hostel, the Imperial, which was owned and operated by the same charming group that ran our hostel in Hanoi. (www.vietnambackpackerhostels.com/the-hostels/the-imperial-hue/)

After freshening up after our 14 hour bus ride, we decided to explore the city a little bit. Hue, the former capital of the Nguyen emperors, was founded in 1802 by Emperor Gia Long, who was also responsible for constructing the city's famous citadel. The Nguyen dynasty ruled Vietnam until 1945, however this was more ceremonial considering various other countries occupied it during that time.

On our walk, after we crossed the perfume river (Song Huong), we stumbled upon a small park comprising some pretty impressive military equipment from the Vietnam war. There was not only American weaponry, but also Vietnamese and Soviet weapons as well.

From there we made our way towards the principal entrance of the citadel. Jutting out at an impressive height of 37 meters was the imposing flag tower, which is said to be the tallest in all of Vietnam.

It was then only a short distance across the moat to the Ngo Mon gate, which is the principal entrance to enter the Imperial Enclosure. To be honest, the architecture and layout of the walls and guard towers had a very similar look to the forbidden city in Beijing.

Once inside the Imperial enclosure, however, the differences became apparent rather quickly. Yellow and other pastel colours were everywhere, and in a charming state of decay that was either due to the repeated attacks on this compound during the Vietnam war or just shoddy paint jobs from the team responsible for the restoration. I'm leaning more towards the latter, but that doesn't detract from it's appeal.

Another prevailing theme was a stylized Chinese character contained within a circle. I've tried to look it up, and it may be phu, loosely translating to "double happiness" or good luck. Either way, it is quite prevalent all over Vietnam and especially at the citadel, and I'm pretty sure I had a Diesel t-shirt with that symbol on it when I was a teenager.       

       

We explored the grounds of Thai Hoa Palace and the forbidden purple city, which should have been renamed to the hidden purple city because barely anything remains after it was almost completely destroyed in the war.

During the Vietnam war, Hue was the site of a vicious battle during the game-changing "Tet Offensive", and was the only city in South Vietnam to be occupied by the north while the Americans were actively involved.

The parts of the citadel that were intact or had been restored were quite impressive despite their relatively small stature.

After exploring the citadel and its contents, we made our way back to the hostel for a bite to eat and to shelter ourselves from the blistering sun.

Later that day, we rented bikes and made our way to Thien Mu Pagoda, around 3.5km from the citadel. Getting there involved riding for a short time through central Hue and its hundreds of motor bikes. By no means was this on the same scale as the traffic in Hanoi, but as the first direct exposure to traffic in Vietnam, it was both scary and fun at the same time.

Once we left the city center, it seemed as though we barely encountered any other vehicles on the way to the pagoda.

If you've been following my blog in the past, you may know that I have a bizarre fascination with pagodas. Thien Mu did not disappoint and was probably the nicest pagoda I saw in Vietnam, probably because it closely resembled the style that I fell in love with in China.

Standing at 21 meters high, it was constructed in 1844 by Emperor Thieu Tri. The site also has a small temple that is frequented by local yellow-clad monks.

We enjoyed the pagoda until the sun had nearly set and then made our way back to the hostel. Since we had partied so hard in Hanoi and Halong Bay, I was almost happy that Hue didn't really have any nightlife to speak of so that Mike and I could finally recover and get some proper, non-alcohol-induced sleep. Besides, the next next morning we would be waking up quite early to do a tour of the former demilitarized zone (DMZ) and important sites of the Vietnam war.

As promised, we woke up quite early and were on the road by 6:30am. We followed Highway 9 for a few hours until we approached a hilly area with patchy vegetation.  One of these outcroppings was known as "the rockpile", and it was used by the US Marines during the war. Our guide explained that the area was once huge swaths of dense, impenetrable jungle, but the Americans dropped Napalm and Agent Orange on the area and rendered it nearly bald. The trees that we saw before us had only been growing since after the war.

 Our next stop was Dak Rong bridge, which marks a place on the Ho Chi Minh Trail, which was the main supply route used by the Vietcong and the North Vietnamese army during the war.

From there we went to Khe Sanh military base, which is just east of the border with Laos and was used by the Americans until it was attacked in 1968.

We stopped briefly for lunch in Dong Ha and then made our way to Highway 1. Our first stop of the afternoon was Hien Luong bridge which crosses over the Ben Hai river. This portion of the river is significant because it marks the former border between North and South Vietnam dating between 1954 to 1972.

After a stop at Doc Mieu military base, we made our way to the coast and visited our final site of the day, the Vihn Moc Tunnels. These small, elaborate tunnels were where an entire village lived during the war in order to avoid the incessant bombing done by the Americans.

Started in 1965 and completed in 1967, these tunnels measured almost 2km when finally complete, and were located at a depth of 30m at their deepest. Despite the 9000 tonnes of bombs dropped on the area, no civilians were killed thanks to these tunnels. It was even said that 17 babies were born inside!

On our way back to Hue, we briefly stopped at a Vietnamese military graveyard that was located across the street from a rusted tank still sitting where it was destroyed during the war.

I was really glad Mike had suggested we do this tour. I didn't know anything about the Vietnamese War prior to visiting Vietnam. Despite the long and complex history of the Vietnamese people, I feel as though this war is the only legacy that they wish they could escape. The burnt-out tanks, patchy forests and old military bases act as old wounds that may never heal. Although the country is making money from the tourist revenue at these sites, their presence is a constant reminder of a time they all wish they could forget.      
   

 

Karst Cruising and a Bull in a China Shop

March 3rd-7th

Upon arriving back in Hanoi, Mike and I decided to check out the Museum of Vietnamese Revolution as well as the History museum. They had been closed during our first stint in Hanoi and while somewhat interesting, they served more as something just to pass our time until we embarked on our next adventure.

We had signed up to Hanoi Backpackers' Halong Bay excursion aptly titled Castaways (http://www.halongbaycastawaytour.com). While expensive by Vietnamese backpacker standards, we had heard nothing but rave reviews and decided this would be the perfect sendoff for Josh, since these would be our final days together in Asia.

We gathered in front of the hostel and they gave us these ridiculously colored rainbow hats. We then hopped onto a luxurious bus and chilled on the 3-hour bus ride to Halong Bay.

Halong Bay, the biggest tourist draw in Vietnam and a UNESCO World Heritage site, is a collection of more than 2000 karst islands jutting out of the Gulf of Tonkin. Every island is unique and contains caves and grottoes for you to explore. The landscape is very similar to Guilin and Yangshuo in China; and Krabi in Thailand. Being a karst snob by this point, I was a little skeptical at first, but upon arriving I knew we were in for something extraordinary.

Most Halong Bay tours involve a huge amount of Vietnamese and/or Chinese tourists crammed onto a run-down boat that ventures from touristic island to touristic island, stopping at several caves that are illuminated with kitschy lighting and souvenir stands. Castaways on the other hand, is pretty much a non-stop booze-cruise that has its' own private island in the gulf and bypasses the caves and islands frequented by the other boats.

Upon entering the boat, our guide Gabe or Gay as he preferred to be called, set the tone and said that we all needed to shotgun a beer before the boat leaves the port. He also said that from this point on, we had to abide by the Asian standard of The Game of Life, that terrific game that requires you to do ten pushups every time you say the word "mine". It sounds pretty easy to avoid saying the word mine, but believe me, when pushups are at stake, you say it a hell of a lot more than you want to!
  

This was not going to be a typical Halong Bay boat cruise!

As the boat left the port we were given a generic Asian meal and then went onto the roof of the boat to enjoy the stunning scenery that Halong Bay has offer. The rock formations are the pride of the Vietnamese people, and what better way to show our respect than to take karst dick picks whenever we had the chance.

We were quite a large group and we quickly made friends with the other castaways. We were joined by some amazing Canadians: Kaja, Erika and Heather from Toronto; and Kaitlyn and Rebecca from Calgary. We also quickly became friends with Oli (who Mike thought looked like a young Mic Jagger and proceeded to call him Jagger during our whole trip), and Charlie, both from the UK. Sundar (who I mistakenly called sidecar) from Australia and Loy from Singapore rounded up our crew.

After several hours at sea, having passed some really impressive islets and floating fishing villages, we started to approach Castaways private island. Before arriving, Gay let some people jump off the boat into the waters below, but Josh, Mike and myself were too sober to do it: it was like 15 degrees outside!

As we approached the beach, we saw a large group of people awaiting our arrival. They all had mischievous grins on their faces and looked a little too eager to see us.  When we got off the boat we quickly found out why they were so happy to see us.

They were the group that would be leaving the next morning and they had set up an obstacle course as our initiation to the island. At the end of the course, they had dug a deep hole in the sand and filled it with beers. We all lined up at the starting line and ran full speed towards that hole full of beer. When I said a big hole, I mean a hole that could probably fit a person or two comfortably. Seeing as though we were between 20 and 30 people all vying for a coveted beer in the hole, things got messy pretty quickly. The whole race was a blur, but the end result was a pile of castaways, a few minor injuries and a ridiculously hilarious sight for the resident castaways.

That set the tone for the rest of the night, which involved beer pong, drinking games and way too much body paint. It looked like I had been seriously beaten up because of all the red and green still on my face. You don't know how hard it is to get caked-on face paint out of a luscious beard! I'm pretty sure I was still picking it out over a week later!

 (Photo Credit: Heather Corner)

We woke up the next morning to something that is really quite rare in northern Vietnam: a beautiful sunny day! We took advantage of it and went out for a morning kayak trip around some nearby islands and beaches. Castaways had also hired a rock-climbing instructor to come to the island and we all got to enjoy the island's private climbing wall.

We then enjoyed a little beach time before Olive (another sadistic guide on the island) offered to take us tubing. Oli and Sundar had gone first and their bleeding wounds should have been an indication that it probably wasn't a good idea, but we decided that it wouldn't be that bad.

Mike, Josh, Heather and myself climbed onto the the over-sized raft. The motor-boat (or speed-boat as we would soon find out) sped ahead at surprisingly fast speeds. While going in a straight line it was rather fun and a pretty awesome way to see the karst mountains surrounding our island. We were probably speeding at around 40-50km/hour when Olive and Gay decided that we had stayed on the raft long enough. They pulled a sharp turn and we flew off and hit the water hard enough to tear off scabs (that's why Oli and Sundar were bleeding).

Dazed and in slight pain, Heather and Mike bowed out and said that they were good just to ride in the boat. Josh and I stupidly decided to give it another go (a decision which I would come to regret for 2 months after the fact).

This time it was just Josh and I on the raft and the ruthless guides didn't feel as though we deserved to stay on for any amount of time. They brought the boat up to what felt like warp speeds and once again, made a sharp turn and Josh and I were airborne. While flying through the air, I instantly regretted my decision, and as soon as I hit the water, life began to suck. I was instantly winded and it took a good 30 seconds before I could draw a breath. I was also pretty sure that I had either broken a rib or at least severely bruised it (yes, I still did have pain in it up to two months later).

While nursing my sore rib, we were invited one last time out onto the boat for some wake boarding. Olive assured me that this would be an enjoyable experience and I reluctantly believed him. He kept his word and we all got a shot on the wake board and I was pretty stoked that I was able to stand up on my first attempt. The other castaways gave it a shot, while those on the boat enjoyed the scenery and soaked up the sun.
  

                  
As the sun began to set, a bunch of us invented some kind of volleyball/badminton hybrid game, while the rest of us devised our own initiation for the Castaway crew on their way to the island. Ours was far more kind and didn't involve the group jumping into a hole.

As expected, that night was an absolute shit-show and I thought that the partying and drinking would reach its climax that night. I was wrong.

Very wrong.              

Since most to all of the details were unconscious memories to me, I have employed the writing styles of Mike Risi, who meticulously documented the debauchery and contributed the following paragraphs to this post:   

After two rowdy nights on the island in Ha Long bay, the unofficial introduction to Asia for myself and the grand finale of Asia for Josh, we woke up expecting a low-key three hour boat ride back to the mainland, followed by a three hour bus back to Hanoi. James and I had planned on hoping on the night bus to Hue in the evening and figured we would have a day to recover. After all, we had partied hard the previous three nights (2 of which were on the island) and were in need of some recuperation. The boat ride started pretty normally with the anticipated grogginess of an early morning wake-up call from an alcohol-inspired sleep. We were all chilling on the mats making small talk when about an hour in, Gay, who was beginning a stretch of a few days off in Hanoi, had the brilliant idea that we were going to start shot-gunning beers. 

Most people thought better of it but there was seven of us who somewhat passively decided to participate: Me, James, Josh, Jagger, Sidecar, Charlie, and of course Gay. In what became one of the better decisions I made in Asia, I decided that the first shotgun wasn’t feeling well in my stomach and it was one and done for me. Little did I know, this would reduce me to the position of babysitter for the remainder of the day! 

(Photo Credit: Heather Corner)

Someone foolishly suggested that they would do shotguns every 15 minutes and the six of them began to rotate rounds for the group. After three rounds, Charlie presumably foresaw the destruction and decided that she was going to sit the rest of them out. Her disinterest didn’t dissuade the remaining 5 who charged on. And so they did. Aside from a lunch break on the boat, the fab-5 plowed through 6 shotguns at roughly 15 minute intervals before pulling up to shore. Concurrently, the group was also fully engaged in the game of life and were frequently doing 10 push-ups for their infractions. From my perspective having witnessed all 6, the group was doing pretty well. It was getting loud and rowdy but most, if not all, shotguns were being consumed quickly with minimal spillage. Tunes were playing and it was a good time. However; there were a few warning signs of the destruction that lay ahead. First of all, Gay purchased approximately 20 beers from the boat with the intention of sneaking them onto the bus. Secondly, and more significantly in this recollection, was that James was stumbling while exiting the boat and was having difficulty putting on his backpack. I had to take it off the boat. 

Back on the bus, the recklessness continued. We were situated at the back of the bus in a feeble attempt to hide the beer shot-gunning from the bus driver while the intelligent ones sat quietly at the front half. The fab-5 continued to charge on and things were getting messy as beer was starting to get spilled. That said, the 15 minute intervals were more strictly enforced. It was hilarious watching offenders do pushups in the narrow hallway of the bus. As their state of intoxication increased there were many memorable incidents from my perspective. Charlie and Gay were clearly an “item” at this point and were frolicking as such. Jagger was unsuccessfully flirting with Erika who albeit playful, wasn’t reciprocating and James was, at approximately 3 times the legal driving limit and most likely dark-sided, proposed to Kaja a life full of matrimonial bliss. While she didn’t say yes, she pretended she was entertained by the affection! By about 9 beers, there were many full bladders and the thought of the fab-5 pissing in the bus convinced the driver, who seemed pissed off with the entire situation, to pull over to the side of the road and let the group and others stumble off to relieve themselves.

It was around this time, that things started to get really messy. James seemed a little more intoxicated then the rest of the fab-5 and Gay who seemed like he shot-gunned beers at 15 minute intervals regularly, was starting to have some doubts as to how much further James could go. The remainder of the fab-5 and myself, the caretaker, vehemently defended his coherence and his ability to stay in the game. At several points, Josh and I contributed by saying that we had seen James more drunk than this. After the 11^th shotgun, which in my view was clean by the fab-5, Gay was more adamantly opposing James’s continuation of the game and it became the primary topic of conversation. Meanwhile, Josh seemed like he was having a nervous breakdown. He could not find his iPhone – the apparent life-blood to his life in Montreal, his work connections, important information, and his “flavor of the month” idea to work in Dubai. He needed to find that phone. We checked bags (as I had hidden James’s iPhone and wallet in fear of him losing it), under benches, everywhere. Josh was scrambling. He even thought it might have fallen out during the piss break. It was like he suddenly sobered up in fear of losing his most valuable possession. Suddenly, Sidecar picked it up from somewhere near Josh and asked if this was it. The look of relief on Josh’s face was palpable.

12^th shot-gun: Game over....for James. He spilled 3/4s of that beer and was falling over in the process. The beer was all over the hallway of the bus, not to mention the benches....I threw in the proverbial towel at that point. If James Michael Schuster was a boxer, he was knocked out. Gay and I momentarily argued as he re-stated his claim that James was done after 11. My defense was that the 11^th shot-gun was clean and he deserved to fight on. There was no defense to be had after the 12^th shot-gun. But James, basically incoherent and lifeless at this point was still adamant that he wanted to continue. We pulled up to the break point of the bus ride which interestingly enough, was full of expensive vases, some of which were 6 feet tall! Considering James couldn’t walk straight at this point, he was kept out of that building. Like someone at a gym, I became his “walk-spotter” doing so much like someone would spot a squat. He couldn’t walk but he wanted to continue. At the store, the fab-4 did their 13^th shotgun outside! James wanted in and was really making a scene. I think Jagger had the idea that we would fill one of the previously shot-gunned beers up with water and give it to him! We did! And then mockingly applauded his completion. He gave no indication that he knew it wasn’t beer. On this break, we sat James down on one of the stairs and I fed him water out of a bottle like he was an infant. It was cute really. Then Josh, who was arguing pretty regularly with James at this point after 7 odd months of companionship, popped the bottle in James’s face and the water spilled all over his shirt. This infuriated James but he was helpless to do anything.

At this point, it was time to leave. The fab-4 tried to sneak more beers on the bus to continue but the driver was having none of it. I think Jagger managed to get 1 or 2 on. James was staggering onto the bus when he delivered his most memorable line of the day. I walked right behind him with my arms under his armpits to support him as he passed the intelligent people on the front of the bus. I thought he was going stumble onto some innocent victim when he uttered “don’t judge me bitches” as we staggered by. It was priceless. The last hour of the bus ride home was pretty uneventful, fab-4 plus James essentially passed out. There was one stop though: Sidecar awoken and walked to the front of the bus and asked the driver to stop. I believe he was the first and only one to throw up.

When we arrived back at the hostel, we came to the conclusion that we could not possibly take the night bus that night, postponed the journey by a day, and booked another night in a dorm room in Hanoi. Since that bus ride had been the only thing keeping me sober, I joined the fray. We had a quick turn-around, showered up and starting drinking some beers again. Rather unexpectedly, the entire group got going as before. The beers were cheap and the next thing we knew, we were on our way to the nightclub down the street to drink slightly more expensive beer. After another night of drinking and dancing we were absolutely smashed! I recall jumping up on the mini-stage/stripper pole and dancing myself with several shy, timid, Vietnamese girls. This included joining some ballin’ Vietnamese guys and gals at a table who were happily sharing their drinks and dancing with us. Asians just love partying with Caucasians in their own country! Of course, none other than James Michael Schuster led the charge. In typical communist Hanoi fashion, the club closed around midnight and it was time to leave. James, who had obviously re-entered the darkside, was plastered. Probably a combination of the day drinking and the night drinking. We all left and it was pandemonium outside. People were everywhere and James could not walk. Loy and I were James’s armrests as we guided/carried him out and walked back to the hostel. I don’t remember if we took the stairs or the elevator at the hostel as I was drunk as well. But we got upstairs and as a group we were bouncing off the walls of the hostel hallways until we managed to find the hostel room. We quickly dumped James off on his bed where he instantly passed out, half on the actual bed itself. Loy and I went back outside to look for the group who had left for the second “after-club” but we were unable to find them. We shot the shit for a bit and parted ways.

So.

Needless to say, I woke up feeling beyond shitty the next day and almost everyone that was on our tour was nursing varying degrees of hangovers.

Despite the hangover, a pain far greater than any alcohol-fueled decision I have ever had was on the horizon: Josh's departure. Mike and I were to continue south to Hue, Vietnam's imperial capital, and Josh would be headed back to Bangkok, to make his return back to Canada.

We had spent over 7 months together and visited 9 countries, only being apart for brief periods of time. He is like a brother to me, an incredible friend and awesome travel buddy. As Mike and I packed our things and boarded our night bus, I couldn't help but shed a tear for the amazing chapter that had just closed on my incredible adventure.