How long in Halong?

"You go to Ha Long?"
I sat in front of the pc in the reception of Little Hanoi Hotel when a guy tapped my shoulder. The minibus had arrived. I dragged my bags onto the bus. Charlotte and Jeanette from Denmark were already on board. They were only going for a day tour. They had been through South East Asia in 3 weeks. So one day here, one day there. I don't like rushing things, so to me, it sounded like just stress. But every man, or woman in this case, has their ideas.
After driving through the city to pick up all the passengers, we finally headed for Halong City. If you ever see any brochures or tv-ads for Halong, you are bound to see lush lagoons, beautiful islands and islets. And a single junk anchored in the bay. This is NOT (as if anyone believed that) how it is. When we arrived, we were rushed to a big place along with hundreds of others. Outside there were dozens of junks rushing to and fro to pick up or dump off passengers. The touristy feel started long before we arrived in Halong City. We had a "rest stop" at a place that was jammed to bursting with others on the same way. And lots and lots of people selling souvenirs, ice cream and food at inflated prices (an ice cream cone cost the same as in Norway...).

On our boat was Joey and David from Canada, Orly and Annat from Israel and a dutch family. Our captain navigated our boat through what can best be described as rush-hour on the sea. Dozens of junks were moving to and fro and made the harbour a nightmare. But after half an hour, we were free of the grasp of the harbour, and could enjoy the scenery. First stop was the "Amazing Cave". This is a drip-stone cave high up on the side of one of the island walls. I think the enclosed image should speak for itself.

After the cave, we were taken to a secluded beach where we could swim for a couple of hours while our boat picked up some more passengers. We joked about the boat leaving us there. But we really didn't care. The beach and its surroundings were astounding to say the least. And we were the only ones there. The only downside was that the water temperature was a bit high. So it wasn't as refreshing as we'd hoped in the warm sun. One has to complain about something, right?


The boat did come back, and took us to the place where we were to stay overnight. As the sun was setting, we used the boat as a diving platform and jumped off into the sea. Joey wanted David to take series shots of him as he jumped from the top deck. But after five attempts, and a lot of laughs from all of us, he ended up with nothing more than a blurry image of himself before he splashed into the water. We ended the evening with talking and card playing in the silence of the night in the bay.



7.45 the next morning, we had to get up to eat breakfast, before heading to another boat that would take us cayaking and cycling. We were taken across some open sea to a small set of islands were there also were some towns on the sea. These are small villages made up of house-boats. The people living there live off whatever the sea has to offer, and of course, tourism. We landed on what looked like a fish-farm. They had fish in one tank, squids in another. And on the small platform, they even had fitted four dogs. We joked about them being snacks... In the back, they had tied up a number of cayaks.


We were divided into two and two who shared one cayak. Most had paddled a cayak before, so it didn't take long before we were heading for a "hidden" lagoon through a natural tunnel created by the waves. Passing through the natural tunnel was amazing, and the lagoon on the other side was beautiful. The only downside to the whole experience was the amount of trash in the water we paddled through. Plastic bags, shoes, food and even "floaters". It reminded us all what overtaxing a tourist spot may do to the environment.
After we came back, we were taken to another island where we were given a bike each. In the soaring temperatures, I was a bit skeptical. But not being outdone by the others, I grabbed a bike that looked like i would crumble any time soon, and headed off. We passed through beautiful landscapes before we ended up in a small village beside a small jungle.




After some resting and refreshing, we had the option of either going back to swim, or a small jungle trek. A vote ended in a jungle trek. We saw a big yellow black butterfly and a giant spider and lots of trees.


The last day was just a transport day. From Cat Ba island to Halong City and then to Ha Noi.

Same as before, we stopped at the "rest stop" to drop off any excess dongs. Back in Ha Noi, we were dropped off at our respective hotels. I found another hotel this time. A $12 hotel in the same street as the previous one. When I entered, a young girl greeted me in vietnamese, and with a smile as big as her face. She called for someone. Her mom appeared. "Do you have a room?" I asked. She called for someone else. That someone appeared to be her husband. He spoke english. And had the most dreadful combover I had ever seen. They had a room at the very top of the building. With aircon. And TV. "Both CNN and BBC" he said, proudly. "Whatever." I said and began the long ardious walk up the VERY narrow staircase, trailing his daughter. Ever smiling and laughing at the panting man behind her.
I slept like a baby.

Ragnar
Aka "Raggie"

The area enclosed by the red river

Or Ha Noi, as most people call it. I often find it interesting how much can be said with a few words in some languages.
It wasn't until I got to Ha Noi that I understood the old joke that "It is so hot that you would be going to hell to cool down". I am simply unable to be outside between 14 and 20 in the day. I tried once, but almost fainted. Both from dehydration and overheating. So I escape to the cosiness of my aicon'ed room during the warmer periods. Reading and writing this blog as my primary occupation.

I already described Ha Noi in my previous post. At least, the part where I am staying. In the old town. It is located around a small lake. The area is filled with narrow streets, loads and loads of small shops, and restaurants. Most of these cater to westerners. So if you want to get some real vietnamese food, you need to do a bit of walking and searching. Dan that I met on the bus, said the best ones were to be found around the lake. But I haven't so far been able to locate them. Maybe they are hidden from me, or I have been searching the wrong places. But of course, some of the vietnamese food is really french food, since France was the colonizing state for a few years. So baguettes and croissants are found many places.
As people back home know, I like my kebabs, and when I found a place that sold döner kebabs, I just couldn't resist. 15 000 dongs (about 80 cents) for one. It was tasty, and filling. I found myself often at this sidewalk eatery. Sitting there, munching away and just watching the street life. Just my cup of tea. For new readers, this is the way I normally travel. I like to study life where I am. Just to watch people go about their daily business. Street vendors, coffee drinkers, drivers and on-lookers.


It was quite amazing watching the traffic. It seemed that either fortune or ability was the reason I have so far never seen any accidents.
It may also very well be my luck that I haven't seen one. Walking the streets, I saw a big poster outside what appeared to be a hospital. I had photos of injuries sustained by people involved in accidents. Let me put it this way : These were NOT fakes. They were VERY graphically describing what could happen. They were mostly hand and leg injuries. But a couple of the images showed obviously fatal head injuries. One showed an open cracked skull with parts of the brainmass squeezed out, and the other showed a head where half the skull was gone, including the contents. One would think that such images would have an effect on people, but obviously not. They still drive like they have robbed a bank.

Moto sa?

On every corner of the city, I find guys sitting on a motor bike. And when they see me, they all go "Sa! Motobike". I wave them all off. I like walking. But some of them continue. "Something to smoke?" When I decline, some of them continue in a lower voice with either "massage?" or "bom-bom girl for you?". It is expected. Especially of a single, middle aged guy to want at least one of these things. I want neither. I sometimes get angry at them for even asking, but I know that I represent a marked for these things. So they are only asking what is expected of them to ask. Cause a lot of guys are seeking for these exact things.
I have met a lot of people, especially young people, who are searching everywhere for "things to smoke". It may be cool for the young to go home and brag about how much "shit" they have smoked. But the fact is that it is ruining a lot of local communities. And a lot of local people become addicted as well. Destrying homes and families. Just for the "coolness" of backpackers. I have never done drugs, and never will. I just don't see the point. Especially when I see what it does to people.

Moving on.

Tomorrow, I will be going to Halong Bay. Have booked three days and two nights, involving swinning, cayaking, cycling and just enjoying the scenery of the beautiful Halong Bay. I will give a full report when I get back.

Ragnar
"This isn't hell, this is just where the vents are"

Into the boiler

The sweat was already dripping down my back when I arrived at the bus-station. And since I arrived so early, they hadn't turned on the aircon. I looked at the ticket lady. Inside her office, the aircon was running. Envy. I tried to think about something else. Tried to loosen my t-shirt to let the mosture evaporate and bring some of the heat from my body to the surroundings. It didn't work. I dried off my forehead and dried it on my shirt. It was already wet, so it didn't matter. 

Another whitey came in. We exchanged glances. He went over to the ticket counter and spoke fluent chinese. Got a ticket and sat his bags down before leaving the station. He got back and his face showed the obvious. He wanted to talk to me, but wanted me to start the conversation. How do I know? Take a guess...

"You live here?" I asked. I could see the relief in his face. "Yeah!". He sat down and told me his story. He lived in Nanning and worked as a teacher. Have met a few of those. He had a girlfriend in Vietnam. They met at the school he is working at, and he was on his way to meet her. We talked about china, anout how we both perceived it. And to my surprise, we actually agreed. My observations from last year was his excact feelings too. 

7.30. We got on the bus. 8 hours to Hanoi. The cool breeze from the aircon cooled my back. I was almost freezing. Not knowing what was expecting in Ha Noi. I sat in the bus and enjoyed the scenery. Lime-stone rocks and mountains rose up from everywhere. Making a spectacle. 

We arrived at the border. Dan, as he was called, warned me of the vietnamese side of the border. "It is total chaos!" he said. The chinese side was relatively calm, efficient and streamlined. It took less than a minute before I had the appropriate stamps showing I left in an orderly fashion. The vietnamese side of the border was, as Dan had warned, a complete chaos. I felt my blood pressure rising. There was screeming, yelling, shoving and sweatin. A lot of sweat. Dan showed me the ropes. I got hold of the right forms and sat down to write the usual stuff. Drops of sweat was dripping down on the forms. I gave up to dry my forehead. The ink spread and made the info unclear. I didn't care. Just wanted to get out. Dan told me to just shove my passport and papers at the officers. It worked. Five minutes later, I was allowed to enter Vietnam. The land of the smiles. I wasn't smiling. Just relieved to get out of the boiler room.

A new bus took us the last bit from the border to Ha Noi. Me and Dan sat and talked about his travels in Vietnam. He gave me a bunch of advices. At a rest stop, he introduced me to some true vietnamese food. Your regular noodle soup, and some interesting things wrapped in leaves. It was like a noodle wrapping of meat. With sweet chili it was mouthwatering. Still is. I enjoyed the meal so much that we both forgot the time. The bus was honking. When we finally got on the bus, we were the last. They had been waiting for us. 

A few hours later we entered Ha Noi. Dan had gotten off at the airport. There were two things I noticed. First, a sign saying the temperature was a scorching 40 degrees. The second was an ad for Jotun, a norwegian paint manufacturer... 40 degrees. I was already sweating just by the thought. When we arrived at the bus-station, a woman came onboard and announced she was from a hotel in the old city. I had nothing arranged, so I aggreed to check outher hotel. Especially since she offered to pay for the motorbike ride to the old town. The hotel looked ok, so I checked in. Double room wih aircon. $20 night, including breakfast wasn't too bad. Not the cheapest, but my head was telling me not to venture out in town in search for something else. 

I had arrived. Ha Noi. Viet Nam. The land of the smiles was smiling at me. The chaos of the city. Millions of motorbikes engulfed every street with noise and exhaust and chaotic traffic. Dan had told me that whenever I wanted to cross the street, I should just walk into the stream of traffic, and the traffic would just magically stream around me. It was scary at first, but after a few crossings, I became used to it. (Click on the image to see a larger version)

The old city was just as I expected it to be. Full of backpackers, and shopowners catering to them. All over the town, they were selling t-shirts, caps and piratecopied cds, dvds and even bluerays.  And cool youths on the trip of their lives. Like everywhere else in Asia. 

But that's a story for another entry.

Ragnar

Licensed to be in the boiler.

Southbound

Hoping for a fresh start on a so far, not too good trip, I headed south towards Vietnam. But first a stop in Nanning to get my visa. I hadn't aquired one before I left, since Vietnam doesn't have any embassy or consulate in Norway. I had booked a flight from Hongqiao airport in Shanghai. I and Rich had left Shengsi island at noon, and arrived at Nanpu Bridge bus station at around 3 pm. More than enough time for me to get myself to the airport in time for my six o'clock flight. Rich instructed me on how to get myself to the closest subway station to avoid paying too much for the taxi. I arrived, without being lost in the sub, at the airport at four.
I was a bit worried about whether or not I would get my backpack as carryon, since I would only be allowed to carry 7 kg on board, and the fact that they didn't allow ANY liquids on board. Which basically meant that I would not be able to carry my toiletries in my bag. At the airport I found they had a service that packed everything you wanted in a voven bag. I just bought the bag, placed all my "need to have" stuff in this, and checked in my backpack.
I settled in the chaos of the B6 gate. This was where the passengers where shuttled by bus to their respective airplanes. Sometimes two or three flights at the same time. I snuck a peak at different people's tickets and found a guy who was going to Nanning. I would just follow him to the right airplane.
Outside, the rain was torrential. I expected delays, and there was. We didn't leave until 1 hour after the scheduled takeoff. The plane shook and trembled as it fought its way into and through the clouds. Dancing on the air and clouds as it went. Half an hour later we were above the clouds, only to be met by an enormous wall of turbulence. Fodder was served. To my surprise, the attendants spoke english quite well. After the meal, I almost fell asleep. Tired from the food, the heat and the disappointment of the day.
We touched down half an hour late in Nanning. I waited for my bag, and it came. I sighed in relief. I have so far not lost any bags, but I have had bags missing for a day. Wouldn't want that to happen now. I got through the wall of waiting people and went outside to take a taxi. Nobody spoke any english, and nobody wanted to take me anywhere. Don't know why, so in the end, frustrated and annoyed, I jumped on the airport bus. It probably saved me a bunch too. Since the city proved to be half an hours drive from the airport.
We got dropped off at the local airport hotel. I had a reservation at Lotusland. I picked up my reservation and found that I had forgotten to print out the instructions in chinese. I showed the name in english to a driver. He just brushed me off. I asked another, then another. No one wanted to read. In the end, a girl who spoke english came to me and asked if I needed help. She called the hotel and asked for directions, and wrote these in chinese on my paper. I thanked her and armed with chinese directions, I showed these to another driver. She looked puzzled at me and at what she read. Then rewrote what I had on the paper, and asked if this was it. I didn't know. So she just drove off. Another attempt was justa s futile. The girl from before came to my rescue again. She called the hotel and gave her phone to the driver. He then took me to the hotel. It proved to be about 200 meters away...
"Our hotel is hard to find" the receptionist apoligized. "No shit" I said.
The reason I chose this hotel, was that they had a visa service for Vietnam. They charged nothing for taking care of your visa application at the vietnamese embassy. I opted for a same day visa the next day. Paid for two nights and the visa, and headed for my room. It was a, er, minimalist room. A double matress on the floor. And wall paintings depicting a forest in spring on one side and autumn on the other. I crashed and fell asleep.

The next day I went looking for the bus-station from where the Hanoi bus would leave. I used a map I got from the hotel and found it after a while. The ticket seller spoke some english, much to my surprise. But I guess she had a lot of foreign customers. "I want ticket for tomorrow to Ha Noi at seven thirty." I said. "Tikki to Ha Noi tomow at seve thirty" she replied and smiled. I smiled back. Relieved. The ticked was correct. 150 kwai for the 8 hour drive.
In the evening I enjoyed with a huge crowd, a group of cyclists doing wall climbing on the street. A police biker showed up and flashed his light. Until he saw me, then he switched them off and drove off. This is what I have seen before. The police are strickt until they see a foreigner. It seems like they have been tought not to show how it all works to give the nation a bad name.

Next time : Viet Nam

By the way : Southbound is also a song by The Allmann Brothersband. Recommended!

Ragnar
Licensed to travel

Eclipsed solar eclipse

There had been 14 days of great mornings. We had eyed a great spot on the eastern part of Shengsi Island. A small pagoda was just big enough for the 6 of us. I, Andy, Emma, Rich, Jason and his girlfriend (whose name has just slipped my mind). Jason was wearing his lucky hat,bought last year in Hami. What could possibly go wrong?

The morning broke. Or more precisely, the alarm clock beeped. It was 3.30 am. Way before neither me nor Rich usually get up. I hadn't had more than maybe 1 hours worth of sleep. Anticipation, maybe. Or the fact that the sky opened at 11 pm the previous night and showered the earth with its precious gifts of water and fireworks. And that people where stumbling through the doors of the hotel throughout the night. 

I quickly, well, as quickly as I could at that time of the day, jumped up an into the bathroom. Decided against a shower since I had too little time. Just a simple wash to give an excuse for wearing deodorant. Rich got up, and we were ready when the taxidriver called us. He was outside the hotel. We snuck out past the guard whose snoring rivalled mine. Left the roomkey at the reception and headed for the taxi. "My umbrella!" I said and ran back to the hotel, past the guard, picked up the key and ran up to the room. Running up stairs isn't my cup of tea. Escpecially not in 30 degrees. 2 minutes later my umrella and me were safely in the taxi. We were to pick up Andy and Emma at a seafood restaurant near their hotel.

After picking them up, we headed for our destination. Using the light on our mobile phones, we managed to find our way to the pagoda. The sun was starting to rise. And the fog was heavy. "It will burn away!" we all said confidently. All the islanders had ensured us this morning was going to be great like all the others. They would know, right?

The hours passed and the sun was nowhere to be seen. We were starting to get nervous. I sent a message to a friend I knew was with a group much further southwest. It was clearing at their spot. At least they would see something. I and Jason where synchronizing our clocks to get the exact timing, and discussing the theoretical possibilities of zero mass black holes. Just to pass the time and try to think of something else. 

Then the graciously giving skies poured down on us again. My umbrella proved its worth. We were starting to lose hope. The rain stopped and suddenly Andy exclaimed "I can see the sun!". We all brought out our eclipse glasses. A small chunk of the sun had already been eaten. Our spirits were up. Nic called. A guy at the hotel had checked a satellit image, and seen that there was an opening heading our way. "YESS!". We're gonna see it! 

The minutes slipped by, and the sun was visible through the thick haze. Suddenly, we saw an opening. Blue sky! It looked like we were going to see it all. I prepared my camera for totality. Made a few exposures of the last minutes before totality. We started to look out for the shadow. I looked up a few seconds before totality, and a large, black cloud moved in front of the sun. "NO!" I screamed. The shadow zipped across us, and we were in the dark. Totally in the dark. No sun at all. No beautiful corona. No screaming in ecstatic euphoria. Just darkness. We saw a few glimpses of totalyto through a small hole in the cloud. But that was it. I counted the minutes, praying for an opening. 6 minutes later, the light came on again, and we could see the sun appearing. I sighed. 6 eclipses and one dud. I couldn't hide my disappointment. Just wanted to get off the island and head south. Away from it all. Into another country. Maybe the "land of the smiles" could cheer me up. 

I said goodbye to those I met before I and Rich took the ferry back to Shanghai. I had a plane to catch. Nanning was waiting on the horizon. But that's another story. For another entry.

Ragnar

Licenced to be disappointed and grumpy

Shanghaied

The 767 was jumping about. A long sleepless night was at the end. Luckily without the old communist era movies since the onboard entertainment system didn't work. The winds and the clouds played with the plane as we decended upon Pudong airport. The new airport. Right at the sea. I was a bit surprised by the location, since it obviously meant a lot of side winds on the runway. It did. The plane jumped, banked and rotated as the pilot struggled to keep it straight. With a loud crash, we hit the runway. We swayed from side to side on the runway before the pilots hit the breakes and reversed the jetstream. Some people applauded. I didn't. I just shook my head. Thinking the placement probably had more to do with precious Shanghai property space than best site. 
Inside the terminal we were met by officials staring concentrated on their screens while a thermal scanner checked the temperature of our foreheads. H1N1. Swine flu. Some people wore mounth-covers. Thinking it would do any good against a virus. According to what I have read, it has more potential of capturing bacterias than keeping viruses out. But if it makes you feel better, by all means. 
I had just over one and a half hour to get to the Nanpu Brigde Metro Station to get my tickets for Shengsi Island. I opted for the Maglev. An ultra-high speed train levitating on a magnetic field. It was supposed to ride at 431 km/h, and be as smooth as silk. It did neither. It only ran full speed at certain times of the day. When I rode it, the top speed was 300. And it was all but smooth. The airport train to Gardermoen is a lot smoother. It shook and bounced and vibrated. And smelled. High tech doesn't make anything good. It just makes it high-tech.
8 minutes after leaving the airport, we arrived at the city centre, where I tried to catch a cab the last bit to the station. The cab driver didn't know where it was (surprise...). But he drove to the area where he thought it would be, and asked a guy who spoke some English. He managed to explain to the driver where it was, and I arrived 30 minutes ahead of schedule. I waited for the other white guys to show up, and after a few minutes, a guy who presented himself as Richard appeared. He had already picked up his ticket and took me to the lady who arranged it all. We waited for the others, but they never showed up.
On Google Earth, I had noticed a gigantic bridge across the bay from Shanghai to an island. The bus rode across this bridge. It was tryly gigantic. With almost no cars crossing. It became apparent why. The island was a gigantic deep water harbour for cargo and tankers from all over the world. And the speedboat to Shengsi and other islands around Shanghai. After sweating in the overcrowded waiting room for half an hour, I and Rich finally got onboard the aircon'ed speedboat that would take us to Shengsi and the others. Andy from last year would meet us at the port with a taxi. The boat was large, but sped off across the waves. Powered by engines that thundered underneath the seat where I was sitting. My bags where steaming hot from lying on the floor during the one hour ride.
Andy didn't meet us at the port. Rich called him. "You here already?!" he said. His ride had taken almost an hour longer. A few minutes later, he and his girlfried, Emma met us. He smiled when he saw me. "Great seeing you again!" he said and gave me a hug. I opened the trunk of the taxi and threw my bag into it. Only to notice the wet floor and the fishy smell. Nice. I later found that the wet was water from washing the fishy smell off... So my bags fortunatly did not smell like I had dumped them in a fish tank for a month. 
Rich lives in Beijing, and thus spoke chinese quite well. This came in handy in a number of occasions during our stay at the island. Especially when we were going somewhere and tried to explain where. Even then, the drivers had problems. Imagine what it would be without speaking the language.
Most of the group had settled in two hotels, of which one had aquired the name "the blue hotel". I and Rich agreed to share a room. Here we also learned a bit about the chinese beurocrazy with an emphasis on crazy. We all had to go to the local police station to register. The government likes control. It may appear that you are free to go where you like. But that is only if they know where you are at all times. One of the others in the group was approached by what we later found to be an agent. He was very interested in how many foreigners where in her group and especially if they where americans and journalists. These two seems to be the root of all evil of the world. How do we know it was an agent? Most people does not speak english. Those that do, can be divided into two : Those who speak broken english, and those who speak fluent. If the latter show a high interest in you and your whereabouts, it is an agent. If three police officers speak to you, and one speaks fluent, he is an agent. The others are
normal police. So now you know.

The photo this time is of the interior of the speed boat. Enjoy! :-)

Ragnar
With a licence to sweat

On my way

I had planned NOT to take with me an umbrella. Especially since I didn't want to carry the extra weight. But when the morning arose for the day of travelling, raindrops were drumming gently on my bedroom window. After some consideration, I decided that it would be better to carry my umbrella, which is more like a parasol, than being soaked in the cold rain. A cold would mean quarantine in China. I really did not want that. An umbrella proved to be one of the things you are allowed to carry on board in addition to your onboard luggage. 

I had a flight at 9 from Gardermoen, flying Aeroflot. Last time I flew this company, their planes smelt like old sweaty socks or vomit, depending upon the section. And all except the purser gave me the feeling that I was personally responsible for them not getting a vacation for the last ten years. And the food had taste and enough grease to give me instant chest pain. So I was a bit sceptical. But at the same time, I thought about the means of transportation I have tried through the years in my travels, and I saw that even Aeroflot was heaven in comparison. The Aeroflot of today was a totally different story altogether. The planes were clean and not smelly. The attendants were polite and had taken a course in smiling. And the food? Very good. Well. Airplane food good... I often smile when I see the commecials for the airliners, where beautiful hostesses care for you every need and serve you a meal that looks like it is served in a five star restaurant. And your seat can be reclined to flat position. And I think about this as I look down on the tray in front of me. With its alu-foil wrapped warm meal I try to eat without banging my head against the seat in front of me in zoo class.

We lifted from Moscow airport an hour late. After dancing through the clouds, we were presented by a slowly setting red sun. It reminded me of where we were going. Once again to China. Or at least. Transit through China. I was a bit sceptical. I was there for five weeks last year, and concluded that I probably wouldn't come back. But one of the longest solar eclipses and the low fare price lured me once again to the red country.

On a side note: Their treatment of the minorities has made it clear how the opinions of the west works. Its not what you do that counts. Its who you are. The minister of finance in Norway proposed that people should boycott Israeli products as a protest to their politics. The same governtment sent a delegation of business-people with the prime minister in front, to China. What is the difference? Double standards isn't twice as good as standards. 

I sometimes talk about this to people, and they might agree after a while. But to most people I guess the palestinian struggle is the only thing many people are capable of getting their heads around at any time. Two or more conflicts simply is too problematic for most. And it is also a black and white conflict to most. Unfortunately. When I say I have been to Israel, I see the disgust in many people's eyes. When I say I have been to China, people light up and ask "How was the Great Wall?". I think I am speaking to it...

Side note end.

My blog is sensored in "democratic" China, so I had to wait till Vietnam to publish it.

Ragnar

Licensed to boldly go where many have gone before.

Vietnam

Vietnam is the country I am heading for this year. But with a stop in Shanghai. After last year's trip to China, I was a bit weary about going to China for the second time. But one of the longest solar eclipses and the fact that I could travel to Hanoi for just over half the price compared to going direct, had a very convincing effect on me. So here I go again.
In Shanghai, I am going to an island called Shengsi. There I will meet most of the people I watched the eclipse with last year, in addition to a bunch of other people. That will be great. Hopefully, the weather will be fine on the day. So keep those fingers crossed on the 22'nd. My hopes are certainly up. I've got a good feeling about this.
I hope that you all will enjoy my blog and that it will maybe give you a feeling of "being there" as one friend of mine described it. That it will be both entertaining and perhaps a bit eye-opening. As always, I have written a disclaimer. But I hope that it is really unnecessary.
Enjoy!

Ragnar
Aka "nagga"

Disclaimer

Why a disclaimer?

We are living in a world where hurt feelings are on the rise. Where people are "hurt" by someone's descriptions, thought or opinions. I respect that a lot of people might feel almost targeted by other people's opinions and views. But at the same time, I think that we must be open minded and accept that not everyone thinks the way we do, react the way we do, and accept all other's opinion. Truman once said that "all cultures have the right to live". I tend not to agree. Cultures that in their expressions have a detrinous or even deadly effect on people, have no right to live. If people starve to death because of culture, I see no reason for the culture to be protected. If people spread AIDS because of their culture, I see no reason to protect that culture. I know I am hurting someone's feelings by writing this, but I will not live in the "tyrany of the hurt feelings".

Some might think that my descriptions and depictions are at times a bit over the top. That I am mocking on the border of racism. This is not and has never been my intentions. I describe what I find funny, interesting, annoying, uncomprehensible, despairing etc. Without filter. I try to describe the world as I experience it, hence the title of this blog. I seldom laught AT people. Most of the time I laugh WITH them. When I laugh at people's doubtful attempts at speaking english, it is because they laugh at it themselves. People also normally laugh at my pathetic attempts at speaking their language...

I come to a country where I don't know the language. Where everyone looks different. Where the food tastes different. Where lots of things are done differently from where I come from. This is probably a lot like what an immigrant would feel arriving in my country. They too arrive in a society they don't understand, with a language they don't understand and a culture they don't understand. Collisions arise from this. That is what I am describing. I am trying to describe what I see, feel and think as a Norwegian trying to comprehend my surroundings. What is the most natural thing for locals may be a nightmare for me.

If I wasn't born an optimist and if I din't have my sense of humor, all my vacations would probably have been package tours to the Canary Islands or something. Where nothing can go wrong, and if they do, there are people to handle it. Where the food is adapted to my tastebuds. But I like a challenge. Try to understand other cultures. Other languages and expressions. Not just the words, but their meanings. And this is sometimes the hardest part. When on a trip to Tanzania, came back to my hotel in Dar es Salaam after a few days on Zanzibar, the receptionist put on a big smile and exclaimed "Mr. Ragnar, you have become fat!". In Norway, this would have been an insult. Most places in Africa, it is a compliment. Sometimes, these differences are easily missed.
Sometimes, I have laid on the bed in a flea-ridden hotelroom, where the roaches fight for space on the floor, and the paint on the ceiling is falling down on me in small pieces. And I laugh my heart out. If I hadn't had this ability to see the comical in the tragical, I would have jumped on the first plane home. Luckily, I never do. And I experience more than most people.

Hope you enjoy this trip with me!


Ragnar
Aka "Globetrotter"