Malaysia: The Mook has Landed!

March 29th-April 4th

As I made my way to Saigon's public bus terminal through the ever-bustling Cong Vien Van Hoa Park, I stopped when I noticed a Caucasian jogger coming towards me. I couldn't believe it, but it was John, an American I had met on my first day in Cairo. He was currently living in Ho Chi Minh City and training before he went to a Muay Thai camp in northern Thailand the following month.

It had been over 8 months since we had initially met and to see each other at this exact time and place really blew our minds. It never ceases to amaze me how small our world really is!

I then took the bus to my stop and thanks to a Vietnamese pilot also headed for the airport, I was ushered to the connecting bus to the international terminal.

My next destination was peninsular Malaysia to reunite with Mike following his travels in Cambodia and to meet up with my friend Yagil.

Yagil and I have been friends since Cegep (Quebec College), and I personally take credit for introducing him to the wonderful world of partying.

Since that time, we have studied together at McGill University in Physical Therapy; and travelled together to Niagara Falls, New York City, Boston, North and South Carolina; and even in Turkey.

He was looking for an exotic location and I thought Malaysia would be a suitable place to meet up because it has beautiful beaches, historical landmarks, outdoor activities; while still having good infrastructure and western amenities that would not throw him too off guard.

While Yagil and I are very different travellers: I prefer backpacking and he prefers more luxurious holidays; we decided to compromise and find things that pleased us both.

Good Luck!

Our first stop was Palau Langkawi, peninsular Malaysia's duty-free island, and closest thing Malaysia has to a party spot.

Even though the three of us were flying in from different countries, we all had a seat booked on the flight from Kuala Lumpur to Langkawi.

We arrived to Langkawi after dark and took a taxi-van to Zackry Guest House on Pentai Tengah. We then moved our stuff into our private room and joined some other guests for some beers.

Malaysia, being a moderately conservative Muslim country, has comparatively high taxes on alcohol and as a consequence, it is quite more expensive to drink than in the rest of South East Asia.

However, Langkawi has had a duty-free status since the 80's to increase tourism and as a result is the cheapest place to drink in Malaysia.

Party on!

After eating dinner and listening to the Malay-Samoan-Kiwi hostel employee run his mouth for over an hour, we made our way to a beach-side bar/club before heading to Sunba Retro Bar, a packed place with a really decent band.

The next day, after a late breakfast, we joined Andreas, a German traveller, and took a taxi to Langkawi's impressive cable-car located at Gunung Mat Chin Chang.

Despite my aversion to cable-cars in China, this one allowed us to see spectacular views over the archipelago of 99 islands and even see Thailand from the top!

We then went to Seven Wells, a series of natural pools where we could cool off after climbing the hundreds of stairs to get to them. We also spent a brief time watching locals flipping into the pools trying to impress us.

On our way back, we were fortunate enough to witness fighter jets flying overhead because our time in Langkawi coincided with an airshow. Pretty cool stuff!

After spending the rest of the afternoon at Tengah beach, we partied with the best of em after playing drinking games at the hostel and then hitting up the same places as the night before, only in reverse order.

We had an evening boat to catch so we spent our last day in Langkawi on the surprisingly beautiful Pentai Cenang. To be honest, I think that this beach was the best maintained and pristine since arriving in South East Asia. Sorry secret beach in Koh Rong, you've been knocked down a spot!

 Andreas joined us on the ferry to Penang, our next island destination on Malaysia's west coast. The ferry itself only took 2 hours and then we proceeded to walk through the historic centre of Georgetown to get to our heritage-home guest-house, Red Inn Heritage (redinnheritage.com).

Despite most restaurants being closed, we still managed to find one of Malaysia's famous Hawker stalls: pretty much a late-night food court selling some of the best and cheapest food that Malaysia's Malay, Chinese and Indian inhabitants have to offer.

Georgetown, located on the north-eastern coast of Pulau Penang was founded in 1786 by the British and was one of their three initial straights settlements with Melaka and Singapore. It has been a UNESCO World Heritage site since 2008 and still has many of its historic buildings and charm intact.

We commenced a self-guided walking tour, passing the cathedral of the assumption and St. George's church, said to be the oldest Anglican church in Southeast Asia, having been built in 1817.

We then spent an hour in the Penang State Museum to get a history lesson about Georgetown and its multi-ethnic population.

A short walk down the seaside esplanade led us to the remnants of Fort Corwallis and the city and town halls.

The next part of the tour brought us through Chinatown with its narrow, ornate alleyways and some beautiful street art.

We visited the beautifully decorated exterior and uninspiring interior of the Hainan Temple built in 1895, strolling past the Masjid Malayu Lebuh Acheh, built for Georgetown's Arab settlers.

We then stumbled across Khoo Kongsi, a fantastically decorated clan house belonging to the Khoo Kongsi Klan, who we hilariously convinced Yagil started the KKK in North America.

 

This building gives most temples in China a run for their money. Really really impressive.

 

Our next stop was the Kapitan Keling Mosque, which we weren't allowed in due to our status as infidels.

We had some delicious samosas in Little India before visiting the Goddess of Mercy Temple and strolling back along the quaint streets of Georgetown before reaching our guesthouse back on Love Lane.

A hostel employee had promised us a free tour of Penang the following day, but had slept until noon and completely forgot about us. We decided to visit Kek Lok Si Temple, the largest temple in Malaysia instead.

The complex is located on a hill and is as imposing as it is beautiful. To reach the seven-storied Ban Po Thar Pagoda, we had to walk up several staircases, past turtle ponds and hundreds of Buddhas.

After, we took a cable car to the immense 36.5m bronze statue of Kuan Yin, housed in an even larger frame. This was the first time I actually heard Mike say something actually impressed him. From up there we got some nice views of Air Itam and the surrounding hills.

Yagil and I arranged to take a night bus to Kuala Besut, the launching point to the spectacular Perhentian Islands. The bus we got was spacious and incredibly well air-conditioned. It didn't even matter that we had to share it with a group of travelling American Christian Missionaries.

Things were too good to be true when halfway through we had to change buses because of an air-con problem obviously felt by everyone but us, and we were put on another bus with way worse air-con and who dropped us off in Kota Bharu, a two-hour drive from Kuala Besut!

We were forced to pay for a taxi with a German guy which dropped us off at our intended destination. The only consolation was the absolutely incredible sunrise we saw over Kuala Besut.

Eventually, we caught a speed boat to Palau Kecil and settled into our long beach accommodation. It was hilarious to watch Yagil's reaction to every wave we hit on our surprisingly fast boat.

The Perhentian Islands are blissful, laid-back backpacker havens. Their beautiful beaches and shisha/fire-show evenings were beyond divine. The Perhentians, much like Thailand's Koh Tao, are renown for cheap and beautiful diving.

Our first day consisted of us chilling out at Long Beach and me trying to teach Yagil how to snorkel. My instructing him consisted of telling him to breathe through his mouth while keeping his head underwater. That's all there is to it!

The next day, Mike and I went diving with Turtle Bay Divers (www.turtlebaydivers.com), where after countless attempts, I finally saw sharks while diving in Southeast Asia! I saw a coral cat shark and a black tip reef shark. Take that Koh Tao!

That afternoon I did a snorkeling trip with Yagil and saw turtles, black tip reef sharks and it was successful because Yagil didn't drown and I didn't have to rescue him!

Our final night we went to Coray Bay for dinner and enjoyed another relaxing evening on the beach.

Because of Yagil's relatively short schedule (only 12 days), this portion of our trip together was the slower, more laid-back part, allowing us to stay a mere 2 nights in each place. From here, we would only be staying in each city for one night before heading to the next one.

Let the race begin!

   

                     

Solo to Saigon

Mar 19-28

With Mike's departure, I was left to my own devices. I decided to beat the heat and make my way to Vietnam's central highlands, specifically to a town called Dalat.

Because of it's elevation, 1475m, Dalat has been a retreat from the chaos and stifling heat of Saigon  since the arrival of the French in the early 1900s.

It is still a major draw for Vietnamese tourists today due to it's European flavour, and sprawling strawberry fields and flower gardens.

I would be using it as a base to recharge my party batteries and get some fresh, cool air before heading into Dante's inferno in the south of the country.

My first stop in Dalat was the out-of-this-world Hang Nga Crazy House. It is the audacious architectural work-in-progress (since 1990) of owner Mrs. Dang Viet Nga. It reminded me of a Vietnamese version of Barcelona's Antoni Gaudi, due to the organic appearance of the structure and the fact that it is continually being built upon year after year.

The crazy house contains nine different rooms, each with its own bizarre theme and animal moniker.

From here I just walked around the city and relished in the rare tranquility that was so refreshing in a country like Vietnam.

The following day I made my way to Lang Bian Mountain, the region's highest peak. Climbing up to 2167m seemed like the perfect way to enjoy the outdoors. This would have been far more enjoyable had I not lost one of my shoes in the undercarriage of the bus from Nha Trang, and now had to do this hike in flip flops.

After paying the small admission fee, I made my way to the road leading up the mountain. I thought it was hilarious how the Vietnamese took these little 4x4 jeeps up towards the summit. When I got to the road, my smug smile quickly melted into a frown: the road was so steep that as I was climbing up, my body was leaning at a near 45-degree angle. My calves and Achilles were screaming so badly by the time I finally got to the forest path, that I was glad I was alone so no one would have to listen to my bitching and moaning as I climbed slow step by slower step in my shitty flip flops.

Once I made it onto the grassy path, it stayed horizontal for around 5 minutes before becoming stone steps until the summit.

The view from the top was rather obstructed by clouds, but the absence of western tourists was far more rewarding than any view. I enjoyed taking some pictures with some Vietnamese students who were eager to practice their English with me.

The trip down was not nearly as long, but walking down a steep incline in shitty flip flops was just as arduous and uncomfortable as walking up.

The next day I took a 4-hour bus ride towards the next stop on my solo tour of southern Vietnam: Mui Ne. Mui Ne is known around the South for it's beautiful beach and as the adrenaline capital of coastal Vietnam, most notably for kite-surfing because of its strong, incessant winds.

I checked into the resident party hostel, Mui Ne Backpackers Resort Austria House, and proceeded to change into the requisite bro uniform of board shorts and a singlet.

I went to check out the beach but was quite surprised at the lack thereof: the tide was so high that barely any sand was to be seen, and there were just these slanted stone walls protruding from each resort. It wasn't nearly as nice of a beach as Nha Trang, but at least I didn't have to worry about speaking any Russian!

I joined a hostel-organized tour of the local sights, and to get to know some of my hostel mates. Our first stop was the infamous "Fairy Spring", a chocolate coloured river flowing through interesting rock formations and sand dunes.

For some geological reason that I can't explain, Mui Ne is also home to some pretty impressive red and white sand dunes, some of which could be seen from the Fairy Spring.

For some bizarre reason, they offered ostrich rides along the Fairy Spring, and other than increasing my travel cred and having a funny story to tell, I decided to pass.

Our next stop on this mini tour was Phan Tiet, a picturesque fishing harbor that graces the cover of my counterfeit Vietnam Lonely Planet.

Our final stop of the day was the aforementioned dunes that seemed to come out of nowhere. Some people rented 4-wheelers, others used ghetto magic carpets, and I just used the time to snap some pics and work on my already glorious tan.

Mui Ne gave a chance to enjoy some interesting geological aspects of Vietnam that I wasn't even aware of and as a transition between the sleepy feel of Dalat and the upcoming party storm that I knew awaited me upon reuniting with Mike. The only unfortunate part of Mui Ne, was leaving my conical hat under the bed in my hostel. I guess it wasn't meant to be.  

The bus ride further south to Saigon was far more enjoyable because I shared a seat next to a dutch giant named Stefan.

We arrived to Saigon in the late afternoon, the tranquil pace of Dalat and Mui Ne was quickly replaced by absolute chaos, and probably several million motorbikes worth of noise.

I checked in to my hostel and met up with Mike. He had experienced an epic series of evenings leading up to our reunification and the expectations were huge, because this was our only night together before he packed up and left again to explore Cambodia for a few days.

 (Photo Credit: Mike Risi)

We started off by going out for dinner at a massive outdoor restaurant and had plans to visit one of the most well-known bars in Saigon. Unfortunately we couldn’t find it. So instead, we ended up drinking Sweet Saigons (a sugar cane-based drink brilliantly named by Mike) on the street and doing a pub crawl with our crew consisting of Mike and myself as well as Stefan, Alex, Lucinda, Andre, Sam and Mel for this epic night.

 (Photo Credit: Alex Bell)

At the end of the night, we stumbled upon an Asian-style Karaoke bar where you get your own room and don’t have to sing in front of strangers. Which for a group of atrocious singers, proved to be a definite advantage. After an overly-enthusiastic rendition of Queen's Bohemian Rhapsody, we called it a night. A really epic one at that. 

 (Photo Credit: Alex Bell)

Saigon, which was the former capital of the Republic of Vietnam (aka the South of Vietnam) from 1956 to 1975, was renamed Ho Chi Minh City (HCMC) after the north defeated the south in the Vietnamese War. Today it is known as HCMC for governmental purposes only and residents and tourists alike continue to refer to it as Saigon.

The love and admiration that northerners feel for uncle Ho is not shared by the southerners, and feelings of resentment can still be felt among the population, both young and old.

I decided to visit some of the city's museums to get a better understanding of this country's complex history. My first stop was Reunification Palace. Formerly the seat of the Southern Vietnamese government, this building now serves as a museum and time capsule of the 1960s and 70s.

My next stop was the War Remnants Museum. This should be an essential stop for anyone visiting Saigon, anyone for or against war, and just all of humanity in general. This museum shows the devastation this war wreaked on the population and illustrates the depths of which human depravity and chemical warfare can reach.

Not since the Rwandan Genocide Museum in Kigali have I cried so openly and deeply in public. In the section depicting the dead and mutilated from Agent Orange and Napalm, there wasn't a dry eye in the room. If there was, they were dead inside.

I regained my composure and walked around the neighbourhood, collecting my thoughts. I now understood why Montreal has such a huge Vietnamese diaspora. They were escaping hell.

My final stop on my solo tour of Vietnam was the Mekong Delta, Vietnam's most southern and humid region. Getting there was half the fun: starting in what looked like a heist-movie chop-shop in urban Saigon and ending up in literally the middle of nowhere.

I don't even know what little village I ended up in. The only thing I know is that I was staying in a wooden room next to a Vietnamese family's home who enjoyed singing Karaoke until the wee hours of the morning and who provided me with excellent and plentiful meals because I was the only westerner at their home-stay and in their entire village for that matter. 

I also had been given the use of probably the shittiest bike on earth and was given very vague instructions of how to visit the local sites and points of interest. I somehow ended up exploring a few small temples and churches, none of which warrant their pictures shared in this posting. 

I also took a small ferry ride to the next biggest town and enjoyed some delicious iced coffee at the edge of the delta's many tributaries. 

One thing that struck me about this village was despite its size, the amount of young people with visible physical deformities was disproportionately high. Was this the effects of Agent Orange trickling down through the generations? These kids were much younger than I was, and I was born 9 years after the war ended.    

The major touristic draw of the Mekong Delta region is to have a morning river cruise and visit the famed floating markets near Vinh Long. Since I was the only westerner in the whole region, I chartered a boat for myself.

It was very scenic and fascinating to see how the local people utilized the river in their daily lives. All tasks, from washing and bathing, food preparation, transportation and making their livelihoods were all intimately linked to the river. 

Our final destination was the Cai Be floating market in Vinh Long. Even though I was the only person on the boat and insisted that we be at the market for the most boisterous and photogenically appealing time of the day, the boat guide made sure that we missed that period by a few hours.

By the time we got there, a vast majority of the maritime fruit and vegetable sellers had already left. Don't get me wrong, it was still a beautiful sight and I don't regret visiting the more intimate regions of the delta, but the amateur photographer in me was left slightly disappointed. 

 However, after seeing all the deformed people happily going about their daily lives, and the atrocities witnessed by many people in this region, I should really shut my spoiled western mouth.

       

  



   

The Spared City and Little Moscow

March 11th-18th

A relatively quick bus ride (by Southeast Asian standards) from Hue dropped us off in Hoi An, our next stop in Vietnam. A shuttle was waiting for us and brought us to our hostel, the impressive Sunflower Hotel (http://sunflowerhotelhoian.com/). Not only did this place serve a tremendous, buffet-style breakfast; but it also had a huge pool area to swim and mingle.

Hoi An, while known for its architecture and historic Old Town (more on that later), is also renown in Vietnam for its hundreds of tailors, making this THE place for all your custom-made suit needs. Knowing that getting a custom-made suit will likely take several days and require numerous re-fittings, Mike and I made it our number one priority to locate a reputable tailor and start the process as quickly as possible.

After some research and recommendations from other travelers, we agreed on Kimmy's (http://www.kimmytailor.com/) and were rather blown away by their customer service and attention to detail. The first step was choosing the fabric. This included the main fabric choice as well as the inner lining. We then went through a laptop with literally hundreds of different styles, both original and others taken directly from pictures off of major fashion house runway shows or photo-shoots (i.e. D&G, Armani, etc). After this thorough yet tedious process, we were measured. I have never had custom-made clothing before, but they took measurements of things I wasn't even aware needed measuring.

Despite the rigorous initial measuring process, we were still required to return to Kimmy's another 3 times over the next few days for re-fittings, to make sure the suit fit like a second skin. To be honest, it was probably even better (tighter) fitting than my actual skin, seeing as though I couldn't really sit comfortably, nor hug myself, nor raise my arms above my head, but holy shit did I look sexy!

If it's better to look good than to feel good, I considered this a mission accomplished.

Once we had the suit situation under control, Mike and I decided to rent motor bikes and head to the archeological site of My Son. My Son has been called "the Vietnamese Angkor Wat" by some, but those people have probably never seen the actual Angkor Wat in neighboring Cambodia.

Not. Even. Close.

The first part of the adventure was just getting there. My Son is located 55km from Hoi An, and in order to get there you need to navigate country roads, highways and poorly marked turnoffs.

Driving down the highway on a motorized scooter being passed by trailer trucks with little to no regard for human life sounds exhilarating, but actually turned out to be quite terrifying.

We did eventually and thankfully make it to the site with our lives intact.  

My Son was once the most important religious site for the Kingdom of Champa, an empire based in present day Vietnam who thrived in between the 2nd and 15th centuries.

The Champa kingdom were initially Hindu, using Sanskrit in their sacred writing. The Indian influences upon their culture and architecture were very apparent upon exploring this ancient site.

In present day Vietnam, the Cham people, or the descendants of the Champa Kingdom, remain a prevalent visible minority, however they are principally Muslim now.

The site originally contained 68 structures, but now only 20 remain. The site was almost completely destroyed by American bombardment in the Vietnam War.

Despite the small stature of the site and crumbling architecture, Mike and I still enjoyed exploring the ruins. We were promised large crowds, but the high heat and humidity likely kept the other tourists away and gave us a peaceful and unique experience.

How often do you get to explore a UNESCO World Heritage Site virtually alone?

Not very often.

The following day we decided to explore the old town of Hoi An. The unique architecture and history of the Old Town have given the city UNESCO World Heritage status since 1999, and to visit many of the buildings it requires a tourist ticket and an appreciation for cool dragon statues.

Check and check.

Hoi An was initially the principle sea port of the Champa Empire, dating back to the 2nd to 10th centuries. By the 15th century, it had become one of the most important trading ports in South East Asia, attracting merchants from all over the world.

Many different wares were sold here, including world famous silk, which would theoretically explain the over-abundance of tailors in present day Hoi An, but I don't think it's actually related.

This history of foreign merchants and consequently seasonal occupants, has led to the unique architectural landscape present in the Old town.

Some popular tourist attractions and remnants of Hoi An's merchant past are the Japanese Covered bridge, probably the most iconic structure in Hoi An.

As well as numerous Chinese temples and assembly halls.

The architectural diversity, the beautiful scenery hugging the Thu Bon river, and the ban on cars and motor bikes within the old city; make it a truly beautiful place to wander and explore, albeit with hundreds of other tourists.   

What sets Hoi An apart from other places in Vietnam is that it is still in much of it's original, non-rebuilt, architectural splendour. In the 18th century, Hoi An lost out as a major trading port against nearby Da Nang and because of this, it consequently became just another sleepy river-side town, and it was spared American bombing during the Vietnamese war. Lucky them.

The whole old city is accessible on pedestrian roads and if you want to enter some of the buildings you can purchase a pass from the tourist bureau.

As we were walking back from our stroll in ancient Hoi An, a goddam motorbike turned right into me and slammed me in the ribs with the handle bars, managing to pinpoint the exact location that I had injured on the ridiculous tubing accident in Ha Long Bay.

Thankfully, Hoi An actually had a pretty incredible night life to ease my rib pain, which included such great bars as Why Not? bar and Volcano bar, which required a 5$ entrance fee for all you can drink vodka and western meatheads playing Youtube videos on a giant projector screen!

On our way back from Volcano, Mike and I hailed a motorcycle taxi that literally scared the sobriety back into us. The bike took corners like the way they do in MotoGP and we could feel the pavement graze our bare legs as we hovered mere centimeters from the ground.

On our final day in Hoi An, we decided to visit Cua Dai Beach, just a few kilometers from the city center. The sand was great, the water was warm and this was the only place in Vietnam I would wear my conical hat in public. Unfortunately I have no photographic evidence of this.

Our next stop was Nha Trang, which we arrived at after yet another long night bus ride.

Nha Trang is less known for its history, but more for its beaches. It is a major tourist destination for a surprising amount of Russians. As the story goes, during the cold war era, the Russians and Vietnamese were strong allies and well-off Russians who wanted to get away from the Siberian winters were able to get direct flights to Nha Trang, where they could bask in the heat, enjoy the beach, and drink the vodka. Apparently, the attachment to this city still carries on today.

The Russian influence, at least in the center of the city is still very evident. Russian text is on store fronts and flags are on buildings and Russian is being spoken.

Other than having a low-key celebration of St. Patrick's Day at a local Irish pub, Mike and my activities consisted of beaching it up and avoiding Russians.

I had to extend my Visa and Mike wanted to check out the south of Vietnam before his visa expired, so I would be staying behind while he would trek solo towards Saigon, where we would be meeting up again in a few days.

A Beautiful beach and Mike-free time. Sounded like heaven on earth.