Goa, the last leg

Goa
We never thought it would all fly by so quickly, but here we are, posting the last entry into the Deighton Wanderers travel memoirs, which I’m sure you’ll all agree will catapult us to worldwide literary fame and adoration.

After Rajasthan, our minds were made up... we needed to head to Goa for some sun, sea and sand, so we could relax and reflect on our exploits over the last 6 months.

Colva our first stop-off, is the Goan equivalent of Blackpool, except its sunny, its dry, and there’s no bingo. It’s a nice enough place, and we stayed for 4 nights, checking out the beachside restaurants and watching sunsets. As nice as it was though, and as charming as those phone camera obsessed Indian men are, it didn’t captivate us for long, and we got itchy feet...

So, deciding to head for less populated and less voyeuristic climes, we made our way to Palolem, which as it turns out is where we’ve stayed for the remainder of the trip! Now this is more like it, a big half moon shaped, palm lined beach, with surf and great beach shacks selling fantastic seafood & super cold beer!

So idyllic is this place, that we seem to have developed a mild case of Aspburgers Syndrome, whereby each day is divided into clear segments, specifically;

10:00 - 11:00 Breakfast at Paradise Beach Restaurant
11:00 - 12:00 Sea kayaking/Body-boarding
12:00 - 16:00 Reading
16:00 - 17:00 Sleep on loungers
17:00 - 18:00 Get changed
18:00 - 22:00 Sundowner (Rum & Coke made by a man with a clean left hand)

Rachael is unquestionably Palolem’s body-boarding guru; the way she picks her moment to harness the waves power and cut through the water with dolphin like grace is truly a sight to behold. Kristian, cuts a similar, but more exocet-like dash with a ride-on kayak, and his propensity for chasing down unsuspecting Russian bathers is, without doubt, unrivaled. This new passion, coupled with our time surfing in NZ has made us pledge to keep up the seaside sports when we get back to Old Blighty (See note)

Note: Concerns have been raised that some of the romance may be lost in the sub- arctic waters of Filey, where, to avoid pneumonia, we will have to dress like a pair of Jacques Cousteau stunt doubles.

So tomorrow, we’re off, once more, to Delhi before getting onto the big silver bird to London. Hard to believe that the trip is almost over, but we will bring home some amazing memories, that we hope to recall at our friends and families expense for many years to come.

Hope you have all enjoyed the blog & we'll see you soon
Love
Rachael & Kristian

Rajasthan, India

“Incredible India” coos the advert on Star Asia TV depicting tranquil wildlife reserves, beautiful temples, leafy hill stations and colourful saris & turbans flapping gently in the wind. “F*cking Incredible” cursed the Bests dodging the human excrement on the footpaths & batting away the thieves and scam artists plaguing our every waking hour. Yes, this is India – an assault on the senses and a melting pot of different religions and beliefs – none of which seem to bear any resemblance to our own value system!
And what a place! We hired a (crooked) driver for 11 days and headed out of Delhi and into Rajasthan proper – taking in Jaipur, Ranakpur, Udaipur, Pushkar and Agra at a leisurely pace…and dodging cows, camels, elephants, goods wagons and dead dogs at a slightly more urgent pace.
The palaces and temples here are like something out of a fairytale; sculpted out of white marble and red sandstone and lavishly adorned with inlaid motifs, mirrors, and gold leaf – they really are a sight to behold. After finally managing to convince our driver that we definitely DIDN’T want to stop at any shops run by his ‘cousin’ to buy any rugs/silver/puppets/silk paintings/slippers/woodwork (for which he gets a nice big commission), he left us to it and we spent our days exploring on foot and escaping the mayhem of the streets by sampling the yummy local cuisine & drinking lots of ginger tea in cafes. A stiff drink would have been better for the nerves but unfortunately much of Rajasthan is ‘dry’. However, we finally snapped in Pushkar and begged a restauranteur for some beer, which arrived after 35 minutes concealed in a pillow case & hidden under our table!
Rajasthan was a real eye-opener and different from anywhere else on our travels so far. The rich-poor divide is more striking here even than Cambodia or Laos, but unlike Cambodia or Laos, the people have a mercenary streak which, although you can’t blame them for, can really start to wear you down. During a trudge through the filth to yet another temple, with grubby beggars clinging to our clothing & followed by a million rickshaw drivers on the make, a hassled Kristian managed to sum up the mood perfectly with; “to be honest, the only sight I want to see now is a Pina Coloda on a beach in Goa, made by a man who doesn’t wipe his arse with his hand”. Quite.

Phnom Penh, Cambodia

From Siem Reap we headed back to Phnom Penh to collect our India visas, and see the sights.

No trip to Phnom Penh or Cambodia seemed appropriate without seeing Tuol Sleng Prison and the Killing Fields. On these sites the Khmer Rouge carried out their cruel regime of mass killings, torture and imprisonment, amongst many other atrocities. The activities of the Khmer Rouge are still hauntingly recent & our blog is not the place for deep discussions on the whys and wherefores, it’s sufficient for us to say that what we saw was; barbaric, sad and Cambodia’s poignant lesson to the world.

As a city though, Phnom Penh seems to be on the up. Charming people, Beautiful temples, hotels, restaurants and bars on the riverfront, with a backdrop of balmy red sunsets. The effect of the first night in Phnom Penh was, however, only slightly diluted by Mr. Best’s naive choice of hotel… a brothel.

The signs were all there;
(1). It was called Rose Guesthouse.
(2). It was up a backstreet
(3). The workforce were exclusively scantily clad, young & female
(4). There was obvious dismay at the wife’s arrival

However, the real point of realization came at 2am, where the tell-tale giggling & clip-clopping of stiletto heels explained the cheap room rates and ‘hose-downable’ corner sofa. Mr. Best found a more appropriate hotel the next day.

We spent many days ambling round the city, each night ending with us sipping gin upstairs at the FCC bar, re-living our exploits and pondering the single biggest daily problem the traveler faces… where to eat? Which really isn’t much of a problem in Phnom Penh.

As a last note on Cambodia before we head off to India, its a travelers dream, outstanding temples, astonishing & shocking history and incredible people. (apologies for superlative overload).

Siem Reap, Cambodia

All aboard the HMS Bilge Pump, its time to get upriver to Siem Reap! Now we’re no salty sea dogs, but this boat was SKETCHY! Nevertheless, 6 hours and numerous groundings later we arrived at the fishing port serving Siem Reap. Here we saw rudimentary living at its most acute, quite an eye-opener. People here live in straw huts suspended on poles above the lake harvesting rice, catching fish, and selling whatever they can to make ends meet.

Conversely, Siem Reap is a small yet increasingly modernized town crammed with restaurants, markets and bars although it has charm and atmosphere aplenty. We stayed here for about a week, exploring the town, basking in the heat and taking tuk-tuk trips out to the countryside. However, our main reason for visiting Siem Reap was to visit the temples of Angkor Wat.

Rising from our beds at the unearthly hour of 5:00am, we met our tuk-tuk pilot who took us to the temple complex to see the sunrise. It was amazing to see it appear out of the night sky, and incredibly beautiful. After hearing the melodious tones of Stevie (our Edinburgh train driver mate) & clamoring with the mass of tooled up photographers for the ‘Classic Angkor’ shot we left the lakeside to explore the inner sanctum of the temple. Angkor Wat is huge and sprawling symmetrical construction with intricate carvings adorning almost every wall. The passage of time and steady dilapidation has given it an almost mystical serenity. It was hard to comprehend just what times this temple had lived through.

However, bringing us back to earth with a jolt was probably the most sacrilegious & disturbing fashion statement we have seen in any culture (see above). Our worldly travels have given us a sixth sense of people’s nationality, in this case our analysis was instantaneous & precise... a Russian.

Throughout the day we visited more temples, all of which having their own charms, from the Khmer faces adorning Ta Keo to the massive tree roots enveloping the crumbling walls of Angkor Thom. The sights of Siem Reap were spectacular and should never be left out of a travellers wish list.

Ho Chi Minh City (Saigon), Vietnam

Bidding a fond farewell to our new Kiwi friends, we boarded a plane to Saigon - a large city poised on a knife-edge between affluence and poverty. We spent a few days strolling down it’s wide tree-lined avenues and quaffing the aptly named Saigon Lager on tiny plastic chairs in local drinking dens. Watching the world go by is an entertainment in itself here with plenty of (minor) moped accidents, snake-swallowing beggars and canny street urchins to keep us amused!
A sobering visit to the War Remnants Museum certainly brought home to us what Mr. Trang from Hue had been through. But in spite of their terrible (and so recent) past, the people of Vietnam are optimistic, upbeat and generous. We’d love to come back.

Hoi An, Vietnam

And so to Hoi-An on the worlds weirdest bus. A single decker with a double decker bunk bed arrangement, in which you can’t sit up, so think of it as a double-single decker. Assuming the necessary recumbant position, we rocketed over the mountains to the sleepy, European influenced town of Hoi An.

What bliss… Coffee, cakes, pasta, and some of the bestVietnamese food we’ve eaten. However, for some inexplicable reason, the main attraction is the tailors. Loads of ‘em! And by golly they are good,.. a fully tailored suit in a cashmer/wool blend cost about 50 quid. Needless to say,we got crazy and even had our jeans tailored (9 quid!)… marvellous!

Hoi-An is an enchanting, relaxed lantern lit town with a mix of beautiful restaurants set in old colonial buildings and hardcore Vietnamese markets, a definate must see!!

Hue, Vietnam

All aboard the night train to Hue! 12 hours of (fairly) soft bunk beds and severe dehydration (if you’d seen the easy-to-miss-hole-in-the-floor-directly-on-to-the-tracks toilet, you’d have limited your liquid intake too).
Hoping to escape the constant rain in Hanoi we arrived in Hue in a torrential downpour, only to be told that it was now the rainy season. Undeterred, we donned our trendy fold-out anoraks and went off in search of the Citadel; the King’s Palace in days gone by, but more recently home to the Viet Kong and consequently partially destroyed. In fact, the aftermath of the Vietnam War (or the American War if you’re Vietnamese) is all too apparent, from street vendors selling army dog tags, canteens and hand grenades dug from the river bed, to the vivid stories of bloodshed told by anyone more than 40 years old.
To understand more of the country’s history, we took a motorbike tour with Mr. Trang, a former Vietnamese soldier and eventual prisoner of the Viet Kong. His approach to life and reflection on his past was an inspiration which held us captivated all day, with his tales of the Re-education (labour) Camps and his struggle for a democratic Vietnam. During our tour we braved national highways, muddy farm tracks, batty black-toothed old women and clinically insane fortune tellers! Sharing a few beers in his little restaurant after our day out, it dawned on us that it was New Year’s Eve!
And so it was that later…after many rum & cokes…Kristian and Richie could be seen tearing down the street on a rickshaw followed in hot pursuit by the hapless owner. Hello to the year 2008!