Deux

Once back on dry land following our tour of Ha Long Bay and stay on Castaway Island, we settle back into the hostel. It is then that I treated myself, and those around me, by showering for the first time in four days. Don't get me wrong, I've gone longer without showering, and likely will again, but it's different when it is a sauna outside and you've been swimming in water that is not un-clean for days on end. See what I did there? The old double negative.

Having napped on and off on the bus back to Hanoi, les filles and I feel up to a "night out." We head to an Irish bar in downtown Hanoi. By the way, if there is one thing these past few months has taught me, it's that the Irish are such infamous drinkers as to have drinking establishments made in their likeness all around the world - even where there are no actual Irish present. WHAT A LEGACY!

Halfway through our night, we are "encouraged" by the police to partake in a change of venue. Fair. Who are we to argue seeing as how we don't speak Vietnamese? So we pour into the street outside the bar. It is then that things took a turn for the impoverished. The bar that we were to be going to provided cabs for people to encourage their business. While debating whether or not Lazer and I should get in a cab or go on the back of Rian's bike. It was in the moment of choosing 'taxi' that Marc Prymack inadvertently robbed me of around 400 bones and caused me a lot of hassle. Was it not for me having promised him to never get on the back of a guy's motorcylce....in Vietnam...in flip flops..etc... I would still have my wallet. But, I might also have road rash. Such is the nature of most gambles.

So, we are left as the last silly, foreign, white girls outside this bar. We are ushered towards a cab. We are forced inside. I am relieved of my wallet by two nice Vietnamese youth on motorcycles. My street cred skyrockets - D*Pryme's rap EP drops this Holiday Season.

Good mornings, afternoons, evenings, and nights...save 1.

I recently went to Vietnam, and a lot went down. And I am a lazy blogger. As such, there will be several entries through which I will attempt to impart the bulk of my experience there. Because this is the first, and because of Vietnam's historical intertwinings with the French, I shall label this entry "un."



I went to Vietnam with some of the best girls that I've met since leaving Canada. In real life, my four travel companions are likely some of the best ladies in the world. We left Incheon airport and set out for Hanoi, Vietnam by was of Guangzhou, China. Any of you who have met me, or my father, know how I feel about China. Our negative feelings were confirmed, by the way. Maybe confirmed is a harsh and definitive word and in its place I should use "reinforced". Nonetheless, during our layovers there, we were exposed to not a lot more than 6 dollar water, terrible food, and msg in mass quantities. Also, the bathrooms scared me...and I live in Korea....where people line up to use the squatters even if a regular seat-type-toilet is available.

Once in Hanoi, it was smooth sailing. You see, it turns out I'm an adult, and I booked ahead to have a shuttle to come collect us from the airport and bring us to the Hostel. Hanoi Backpackers' Hostel is a gem, by the way. And I would know. We spent the whole week either staying at the hostel, or on tours organized through it. Straight away after our first Vietnamese night's sleep, we head out on a 4 day, 3 night tour of Ha Long Bay. The name of the tour in question is "Rock long, rock hard tour of Ha Long Bay". Touche! For under 200 bones, we spend 1 night aboard a ship on the bay itself and 2 nights sleeping in huts on a secluded island therein. I should mention for boasting's sake that this measly fee also covered all meals over the course of the trip, as well as water sports (like banana boatin!!) and kayaking.


The above photo is gold because it shows Lazer, myself, and Stiff all riding like it's stolen long after the other 5 have fallen off. It was around this time that we became known as 'Team Korea' among other members of the tour as well as the hostel staff. We also received many compliments on our chopstick skills. Go figure.



Having been dubbed Team Korea, we took it upon ourselves to educate some of the other foreigners in the ways of Korea. My friend Marie 'Mum' Wilson has an app on her iPhone that provides her with a new Korean word every day. One fateful day, the word in question was 넓적다리 (pronounced: hi-bok-chee). This means thigh. Of course, as with many of Marie's 'words of the day', we thought we'd never come to use it before forgetting it again. How wrong we were. In a moment of brilliance, we craft a game by the same name. The game proceeds much like tag, but everyone is it. All the time. Basically, you go up to whomever you want, breath heavily and obviously onto your palm before yelling "HIIIIIBOKCHEEE" and bringing your hand crashing, palm-down, onto someone's thigh. Points if it's unexpected. Extra points if it leaves a mark. This spreads like wildfire and we have everyone believing that this is a traditional game in Korea - to be fair, it is not nearly as random as some of the actual Korean games of old. I really do pity the fool that recalls and acts on our words of wisdom that, should they ever come to Korea, a surefire way to impress and garner acceptance if not free drinks is to bust an enthusiastic thigh slap on the nearest ajumma.

The weekend to end weekends!

Weekends in the ROK are always a mixed bag. None more so than the weekend of July 23rd to 25th. In an effort to recover from what was a hectic and trying weekend at mudfest, me and my A Team decide that we should plan for a tame destination. We settled on Mokpo, a decent sized city and the home of Lindsay, so we could crash for free and take it more or less easy. Bring on the less easy...as usual.

Friday
Lazer had been raving about a bistro type place called Kirin's, and I've never heard of a bistro that serves kimchi, so I am instantly on board. So we go for dinner, and are blown away. A) By the food and atmosphere and B) by the owner Jin Seon. She is a Korean who is in a relationship with a French ex-pat - hence the bistro. I ordered pumpkin lasagna, it was a good choice. Lazer ordered the eggplant lasagna, it was a better choice and is featured below.


Back to Jin Seon, she is unreal. The decor of the joint is of her own design and we find out later into the evening that quite a few of the photographs and paintings are hers. We make the assumption that one so cool must love to party. Let me tell you, assuming doesn't ALWAYS make asses of people. She's down. She tells us that she just needs to clean up and that since we are the only people left in the restaurant, she'll close down and we'll leave as soon as the dishes are done. Stiff and I, sensing an opportunity to expedite the process, get started on the dishes. We make a mean assembly line.


As a means to pay us back for our voluntary labour, Jin Seon grabs around 6 bottles of wine. Pretty good ratio for 7 people, ne? 'Ne' is Korean for 'yes'. 바보 is Korean for stuuuupid. Off we head to Peace Park, a splendid boardwalk type area, in order to set off fireworks and dance on forbidden barges. So, it's getting pretty late and, as cool as Jin Seon is, she is far from irresponsible. She heads home to bed. We don't. We demand to be taken somewhere we can dance, and dance we do. Until the wee morn. We are taken to a club called Gwang Nights. It is a fun time. Spotted: fit Korean man in tribal printed harem pants. Win! Obviously, a dance-off is waged and lost. To be fair, the opponent was a member of the Korean National Ballet. The bulk of which we met when we were invited back to their table. We are told to come watch them in Swan Lake the next day.

Saturday
Wake up after a cat nap of a night's sleep. Head down to Kraze burger to ingest Western-style beef products..and in Stiff's case, a veggie burger. Tool around town. Get coffee in A DOLL HOUSE, go shopping. Gamze buys a whole new wardrobe. Nothing really out of the ordinary here.

Head back to Lazer's place for a self-prescribed nap. Nawwwwt. This turns to girl talk and silliness which in turn get us amped for another night at Gwang Nights. Mamma Marie, ever the responsible one, opts to stay in and engage in the horizontal activity known as 'sleep', something the rest of us have but vague memories of. No worries. We take Marie with us in the form of a necklace. Realizing that we've yet to eat a real dinner, we head to Tom and Tom's cafe and get some bagels. Because that covers all of the food groups. We are mistaken for prostitutes. We head to a Family Mart to start drinking a classy mixture of Hot 6 (Korean Red Bull) and Soju (Korean Life Source). On the way, Stiff spots the very same tribal harem pants from last night and she calls to their wearer from down the street. Of course it is the same dudes. They have excellent English on account of living abroad studying ballet and likely being from wealthy families. They use this English to ask why we didn't go to their ballet. Fair question, we thought it was a joke. We assure them that we will go the following day. We head to the nightclub to meet up with some Korean guy friends of Lazer's. They play on her soccer team, they have excellent English. They have reserved a Noraebang (Singing Room) for us.

After dancing to some K Pop, we submit and go to the Noraebang that Korean Joel, who's favorite words are 'jesus' and 'christ', has reserved. We ride there in a convertible. We sing and party at length. We find out that one of our Korean friends, Jay, is the male and Korean version of Celine Dion. We are told that he was on Korean Idol, but was kicked off for being too drunk. I love him immediately. We stay there until 8 AM! And really, even at this point only think to leave because Gamze has been dropped knee-first onto a glass table.




Sunday
After taking a few photos in the cab to Lazer's place, I fall dead asleep. We sleep until midmorning at Lazer's before heading to Kraze Burger to wreak more gastrointestinal havoc on our bodies. To premise: I already feel awesome.
Bring on the ballet! So, we go to the ballet. It is amazing. The set and costumes are amazing. We all develop crushes on the ballerinas that we had chance encountered twice this very weekend. I start calling them ballerinos in an effort to make them more easily classifiable as male to people who hear this story. And because I like messing with English like that. After the performance, we are invited for dinner. The bulk of the ladies attend, but I am forced to flee back to my stomping ground a whopping 3+ hour bus ride away. Le sigh. As soon as I get on the first bus of my trek in Mokpo, I begin my week-long attempt to rest and recharge for what is sure to await me 5 days into the future - another weekend.