Renvyle (in pictures)

Renvyle

The purpose of our trip to Renvyle was to catch up with Debbie whom we met on our trip on the bus out to Australia. Luckily for Debbie she'd found some temporary work which meant she was absent apart from the time we spent together on the Connemara Community Radio Sponsored Walk already blogged. Debbie must have been so relieved she was away that she was even kind enough to give us unfettered access to her flat whilst we stayed in Renvyle.

During the first day or so we visited Kylemore Abbey & Gardens, previously a school run by nuns and a 'boarder' frequented by students both local and from across the globe. A stunning, perhaps foreboding property and gardens that it's original builder/owner ensured supplied the local community. Whilst today's crops are not enough to supply the house alone, let alone the local residents, the gardens remain a good enough draw to attract revenue into the surrounding economy.

Whilst we were there we also noticed some interesting sheep, but they didn't seem to either 'fleece' the visitors or provide a necessary income to pull the wool over the eyes of anyone taking a closer inspection.

Walking around the impressive gardens we also noticed the first piles of peat harvested from the nearby fields and a staple fuel of fires for many, many decades.

Travelling around Renvyle and the locality you can't fail to be impressed by the stunning scenery inland and the impressive views out to sea and we were lucky enough one afternoon to find a secluded spot in the sun on a beautiful beach to enjoy a snooze in the afternoon rays.
In addition to Debbie's hospitality we were also treated to Mr & Mrs Debbie Senior's very warm welcome throughout our stay in Renvyle.

Despite the average climate we've experienced throughout our return to Europe, during our visit to Ireland we benefited from extremely long Summer evenings with the nights not getting dark until 11pm or later giving us fantastic sunsets and twilight.

Interestingly, the local recycling centre is situated at the local school and on one of our visits to the bottle bank when we pulled up in the Smart we seemed to have coincided with the lunch break and were instantly surrounded by what seemed to be the whole school. A very excited and interested crowd quizzed us on the car and proclaimed their affection towards us - what a difference to the youth we've experienced much closer to home.

Connemara Community Radio Walk Weekend 2011

This is quite an 'interactive' post:- clicking various underlined links will give more detail on our walking weekend.
The big event we travelled to Ireland for in June was to take part in the Connemara Community Radio Station Sponsored Walk on the weekend of June 11/12. This annual event raises much needed funds to help pay for the license to broadcast an FM signal to the many people around Connemara who may be living in very small communities or completely isolated and single dwellings dotted around the vast, beautiful West Ireland countryside.
We also got to catch up with Debbie who talked us into the walk when we met on the Oz bus and who also kept a blog of her overland journey from London to Sydney.
On the first day we travelled to Letterfrack by car where a group of us met at the radio station and were transferred by minibus to our fate at the start of the walk in Gowlan West. Here we were dumped, er we mean dropped off and met up with yet more fools, er we mean folks who had also 'volunteered' to walk for two days. Not that we knew just yet but our day one walk would take us from Gowlan West to Roundstone The start of the walk was along a disused railway line and straightforward enough offering lovely views of the countryside all the way through to lunchtime. In the afternoon, things got a little different. We started to walk on the bog! A unique experience - a bit like a very small creature trying to walk on blancmange - we were a bit bigger than that though. Thankfully Stephen - our guide was a shepherd and we acted like pretty good sheep not wanting to wander off the beaten track and as if to warn us, every half an hour or so Stephen would shove his walking stick right through the bog to the tip of it's handle to show how quickly we could disappear should we set one foot wrong. After a very wobbly hour or so, we finally hit firm ground and ventured into Roundstone where we had a fantastic welcoming committee who saw us right with beer, wine and canapés in the warm Summer evening sun.
We then made it back to our B&B stop to get ready for a night out. The two of us lasted until about 10.30pm - complete lightweights but we were stuffed full of food and drink and feeling completely uncomfortable and knackered. We were definitely in the minority however as we heard people gradually coming home over the next 5 hours, the last to hit their rooms (quite literally with loud whispers and giggles at around 3.30am).
Sadly, when we woke up on the Sunday it was raining and the festivities of the night before seemed long gone as people gathered quietly - shoulders dropped - to meet at the minibus to be taken to the second days start point. Couravoughil to Letterfrack was to be our second days walk and it was a wet start. There was an ascent almost immediately to just to keep us cheery. Then a very tricky walk along by a significant stream over wet rocks and it wasn't long before Helen straddled a rock and David was a short way back thinking that Helen's walking was going to be over any second as she plunged into the water. Thankfully a fellow walker right behind Helen managed to lift pull her up by the back pack and coat straight out of trouble - impressive stuff. It wasn't long before we were back on the bog. Also not much longer after that before David gave out an unimpressive whimper as he lost his footing and was left foot knee deep in the bog - nice soggy footwear for the remainder of the walk. Day 2's lunch stop certainly seemed shorter and the walking also seemed longer, but it turned out that we'd done slightly less when we limped into Letterfrack to an equally impressive welcome party as the night before. The Guinness started flowing, the food was plentiful and the evening sun was warming our faces. Feeling the glow of the sun and a couple of pints of Guinness, David accepted an invitation to complete a
radio interview on Connemara Community Radio Station to talk about our experience. We slept pretty well on that Sunday evening.

Athlone

After a bright start from Northampton we headed towards Holyhead for a ferry crossing to the Emerald Isle. Sadly, we arrived in Dublin just as rush hour began and with a map that was about 10 years old or, perhaps of more significance about as detailed as a picture of the moon, we saw more of the capital than a) we intended to and b) we wanted to. There were a couple of estates we drove through where you hoped that the lights wouldn't stay on red for too long.
Thankfully it wasn't too long before we found our way to, and ourselves on, the motorway heading West to our first overnight stop. The motorway was high quality and devoid of the levels of traffic we 'all too soon' re-familiarised ourselves with back in England. In fact, it was pleasurable and a joy to be driving in such conditions. Not too long before we arrived in Athlone and a very friendly welcome to our overnight accommodation. In fact, considering that one of the first things we asked about upon arrival was the location of a couple of well-known pubs, rather than use the hotel bar, we were treated with the welcome seen by the other two important visitors to Ireland, namely Mr Obama and Mrs Windsor.

The first pub we visited was Sean's Bar and it was everything the foreign visitor to Ireland might expect and hope for - sawdust on the floor (without the spit), peat smoking in the open fireplace, the warmest of welcomes and the coolest, most velvet pint of the Black Stuff I've tasted since the last time David was in Dublin, or the Coach & Horses, off Covent Garden. Helen still says it was the best pint of Guinness she had during our trip to Ireland (including a certain factory at St James' Gate!). Our next (and final) stop on the early evening pub crawl of Athlone was to Gertie Browne's, another interesting pub, but without the same number of clientèle, just a little less atmospheric than our first pub - but a lovely drop of Arthur's finest nonetheless.

Easton Royal (the Birthday party pics)

Easton Royal

After a long flight home, we were welcomed 'backtoBlighty' by Margaret & Lloyd, who then put us up for a few days in Easton Royal.
It proved to be a good time to re-adjust and get over the jet lag for a few days.
Only a week later and we were back down at ER to celebrate Lloyd's Birthday with a garden party that saw the Official opening of the garden Summer House, the Hungerford Brass band and the passing of the 'hat' once again between Michael and Lloyd. The hat has passed between the two of them around 60 times over the years, in all manner of ways and been delivered by some unusual methods (including manuere) and via a host of people (including the late Bob Monkhouse). This time Michael had arranged for the Hungerford Town Brass Band to present it to Lloyd in the garden. Seeing the band playing was quite a spectacle and a good way to spend a typical English Summer afternoon (cold - despite the sun making an appearance several times between the clouds).
Later in the afternoon Lloyd made a speech and David got a mention as 'Captain Patience' for his technology teaching methods, but was embarrasingly nowhere to be seen as he'd snuck off for an afternoon nap to nurse his tonsilitis.
The day was rounded off with a crowd of folk around the television set to see a traditionally poor performance in the Eurovision Song Contest by the UK - well in terms of voting that is from our European neighbours.

Ho Chi Minh (in pictures)

Ho Chi Minh

Our final journey through Vietnam on a sleeper bus. After our last bug-filled experience, we decided that we'd take the day sleeper option. We'd not got very far before the bus turns down a very winding, small, pot-holed road and turns into a bus depot. Visions of bus trips through Malaysia returned, thinking we were going to have to change buses again, but thankfully not. Instead, the driver gets out and there's much gesticulating by around four or five guys and a table and a few chairs appear. Although the bus isn't full at this stage, we have seen individual chairs placed in the aisles of these buses before - but the table! So, these guys seriously consider and attempt to get the table on through the side door, we kid you not, but before David can grab his camera, they do decide that after a couple of minutes that it won't squeeze on without some serious reconstruction to either the table, or the bus. Plan B comes into action and they attempt, and are eventually successful at putting the table in the luggage hold below. Gladly, this wasn't at the expense of our suit cases.
The journey is fairly uneventful, the scenery stunning, but the coach does stall once on a very steep ascent up a very winding mountain climb. The bus driver tries to move forward four or five times, the engine stalling and the bus lurching backwards rather than in the right direction, but eventually we are back on our way.
Whilst in HCM, we did a good amount of sightseeing, visiting some local galleries and museums. Unsurprisingly, there was a fair amount of both art and history relating to the conflicts of the twentieth century. Some of the images in the gallery and exhibits in the museum were stark, direct, immensely powerful and harrowing.

We also visited Notre Dame Cathedral and saw one of a number of illuminated Mary's witnessed across the city.

We even visited the Post Office!

There was also a trip out of the city where we visited the site of much of the fighting between the Viet Cong and the Americans. We saw examples of some of the traps set by the Viet Cong, including this swinging floor, with a spiked man trap awaiting in the bottom, that would swing completely shut again when it had taken it's victim.

We also saw the tunnels carved out by the Viet Cong and some of the trap doors like the one below where the VC could hide in an instant below ground.

But enough has been written about the historical war in Vietnam and no doubt more will be written from many view points.
Today's battles seem to be those of wits on the roads (and pavements) as the traffic in HCM in particular has to be witnessed to be believed with vehicles, but particularly mopeds coming at you from all directions, but thankfully we managed to survive.

Even the guy below survived! He's replacing some cabling going across a busy line of traffic and is holding onto the cables whilst the bloke at the bottom of the ladder calmly moves it across the seething lanes of traffic.

After Vietnam, we have returned to Malaysia and preparing for our flight home. We hope you've enjoyed some of our missives and we may have made you chuckle, or just smile on the odd occasion.
Whist this wont be our final posting to the blog, they will be less regular than previous, so keep checking from time to time.
There's a trip to Ireland for us we'll cover on the blog in June where we'll be completing a 48km sponsored walkathon to support a local Community Radio Station, so we'll be asking you all for your kind donations. All contributions big or small are welcome.
David is also walking from Carlisle on the East Coast to the West Coast in July, but no specific sponsorship for that, but probably a blog entry or two along the way.
Hope you've enjoyed it nearly a small bit as much as we have living it and we look forward to seeing you personally soon (get you wallets and purses at the ready, ha, ha)

Ne Trang (and a picture)

Our journey to Ne Trang was once again by the night sleeper bus. When it arrived Helen was elbows out and onto the bus straight away to try and get two bed seats next to each other whilst David dealt with getting the cases securely in the luggage hold. We hadn't been on-board too long before David noticed a bug crawling along the floor and then disappearing under one of the beds, then another, then another. After the first pee stop and we got back on board, Helen also noticed the bug situation - in fact the bus looked pretty much infested with them and when people were getting back on board after the 2nd pee stop you could hear the sound of lots of swiping and thwacking of bugs going on in several parts of the bus. We wrapped blankets around our exposed feet and legs, closed our eyes and tried to sleep the best we could. You can imagine it wasn't easy - particularly as the coach driver was bonkers with erratic overtaking, plenty of use of the horn and severe braking. At least it momentarily took your mind off the bugs and every time we went over pot holes and bridge expansion joints there was always the hope that a few of the critters were being shaken off the bus.
Eventually we got some sleep, only to be woken by the sound of water. There was a toilet half way down the bus that constantly said it was occupied and could only be shut with a lock mechanism on the outside of the door - this had already confused a couple of passengers, but was no excuse for the bloke who was standing in the bus peeing up the outside of the loo door and the exit door midway along the coach.
When we arrived therefore, we alighted via the front door of the coach. We were then pleased when we finally shook off all the hotel touts (although one was persistent to within 100 metres of the hotel we had booked). At the hotel we were told that our room was ready even though it was only 0715 hrs. However, when we got to the room, the manager opened the door to find somebody was already inside it. We were then offered another room and were finally able to wash the thought of those bugs out of our system.
Ne Trang itself is a beach destination, so we spent a couple of days relaxing down at the sea front looking over to the island pictured above, connected to the mainland by one of the longest looking cable cars we've seen.
On one evening we spent a night down at the Sailing Club on what appeared to be chillout night by the music they were playing, and a bonfire was lit on the beach to add to the ambiance. Unfortunately, Helen was ill on our second night, so David went out on his own the following evenings and was concerned he looked like a bit of a saddo in the restaurant and bar he visited. He was accosted by one of the waitresses in the restaurant and thoroughly cross examined as to whether he was there on his own, how long he'd been in Vietnam, whether he was married and why he didn't have any children. In the bar, he ended up sitting at a table next to an old guy who clearly had an identity crisis and thought he was an American Indian. David then cursed himself that he was off duty from taking pictures for a few days so that he couldn't share this image with you all.

Hoi An (in pictures)

Hoi An

The weather was on-side when we reached Hoi An. Well, that is to say it wasn't raining when we first arrived and within a few days we actually saw a chink of blue in the sky. This was good, as apart from the stunning architecture in and around the port, we were able to hire push bikes and cycle to the beach some 3 miles or so away a couple of times.
We also hired another moped and went a bit further into the countryside.

In fact we went to My Son, a site of temples in the same style as those in Angkor Wat, Cambodia, although on a far, far, far reduced scale and, it has to be said, a tad disappointing. In fact, they were in a pretty ruinous state due to destruction from twentieth century conflicts.

We did seem some rather interesting sculptures though.

Helen also found this rather stupid looking tool!

Whilst in Hoi An we also took a cookery class, but it will probably take a few attempts when we finally have a home of our own again before we get anywhere near making decent enough veggie spring rolls, pumpkin mash and the most deliciously moist roasted aubergine or eggplant as some of our Antipodean friends and relatives prefer to name them.

Afterwards, it was all washed down with some lovely cheap fresh beer, and as you can see there was more than enough to go round for one evening!

Talking of cheap beer, the food wasn't that expensive either.

Helen also managed to take advantage of the low cost boot making and found some footwear that could be tailor made.

In the evening, the buildings and bridges were lit up to make them even more picturesque, but there were some strange creatures lurking in the water.

On our last night there was also a strange little cheeky creature who entertained us in the street until it was his bedtime. He was quite happy doing funny little walks, pulling faces and cheekily stealing David's seat when he went for a waz.

Hue (in pictures)

Hue

Whilst we were in Hanoi, we decided to try out the overnight sleeper bus to take us down to Ho Chi Minh City via several stops. We'd seen some of these parked empty when we were up in SaPa - Helen had a special name for them.

Initially the bus didn't turn up on time, although a guide did and she hailed down a couple of taxi's that we all had to squeeze into and then transfer our luggage between the two vehicles - it was all chaotic. The cabs then took us about half a mile to where the sleeper bus was waiting. Our luggage was then loaded onto the bus and as we got on, it seemed to be pretty full already. We were then told this wasn't our bus but we were to stay on it to be ferried to the next transfer stop. More people got on along the way, so we were standing, packed in the two aisles between the beds. This lasted for about half an hour until those of us without bunks were herded off the bus, our suitcases ceremoniously taken out of the luggage hold and we were left standing on the side of the road in the dark. We were waiting for some time, chatting and nervously laughing with Blighty spirit with our fellow passengers until another coach finally arrived. Then, what we'd not already noticed was a significant number of locals, who had been standing in the shadows of some local buildings were all of a sudden elbows out and pushing and shoving to get on the sleeper. We did manage to finally get on, and soon were able to laugh about it. The journey itself wasn't as bad as we'd prepared ourselves for with a couple of loo breaks, but even though we were able to lie down, the poor suspension on poor road surfaces made for a fitful nights sleep.

Sadly, when we arrived it was damp and cold, but our room was ready which meant we could shower and get out and about straight away.

As the weather was poor we decided to book on a trip but unfortunately part of it was one of those tourist shopping opportunities, although we did get to see some conical hat making.

We also got to see josticks being made all in the same shop!

The trip really centred around visiting tombs though and there were plenty of those - Tu Duc, Minh Mang, Khai Din, and Thien Mu Pagoda.



At the end of the trip we caught a dragon boat back down the Perfume River before trudging home in the damp.


As ever, the rain can make such a difference to a visit, but Hue is famous for The Citadel and it's an impressive place regardless of the weather.

Sadly, with all the wet, damp and cold together with no heater in the room (but lashings of blankets), Helen caught a cold, so we decided to move further South in the hope of better weather.

Hanoi (in pictures)

Hanoi

When we arrived in Hanoi it was overcast, foggy and quite cool. After a short walk from the hotel we arrived at a lake where a significant crowd had gathered and were staring into the water.

A local told us that they were looking at a 1,000 year old turtle that lives in the lake - Lloyd also confirmed it was in the UK media before they left. Apparently, the local opinion is that it's recently been unwell and by the look at the state of the green slime it was swimming around in that was supposed to be the lake, we weren't surprised.
As we continued our wander further around the streets we happened upon a guy who seemed to be equipped to repair Helen's glasses which had recently broken.

There were also a number of interesting retailers selling all kinds of stuff..

There was also a number of women of Hanoi and the surrounds who constantly sold goods from their heavy balancing wicker baskets. A trip to the local womens museum had a short documentary illustrating how far the ladies come to sell their goods, the amount of time they are away from their families, the long hours they work and the small, yet significant sums of money they can earn to take back to their families to help to feed them and make a difference.

We also walked past 'Uncle Ho's' mausoleum, but were too late in the day to go inside and take a peek.

The weather in Hanoi was a complete mixed bag and cooled rapidly soon after we arrived and descended into a number of days rain, but before we left it had begun to improve significantly again. So much so, that a walk over to the 'big lake' revealed just how huge it was and stopped David in his tracks from thinking we could take a short stroll around the whole of it in one afternoon.

Hanoi was where Lloyd & Margaret left us to return back to Blighty via Kuala Lumpur, but not before Lloyd found his Utopia.

The traffic in Hanoi deserves a special mention: It does seem to get by in a merged-chaos kind of a way. One way streets are of no consequence to either mopeds or cycles of various sizes and pedestrians might as well not exist. Peripheral vision and a horn that seems to suggest an 'OK, I've made my mind up and I'm coming through this gap/junction/crossing' regardless of what is coming in the opposite or sideways direction. It appears to work the majority of the time, but clearly there are many instances when the deafening horns can not be differentiated from the mass of others and there are painful consequences.

Hanoi was also the first place we noticed the many couples openly checking each others hair for nits. Is your head itching now as ours did when we saw this?

We also treated ourselves to a performance of water puppets. It was a show loosely based on sex and drugs and rock 'n' roll. It was a privilege to hear first hand the in-theatre Vietnamese band for the first couple of numbers, but admittedly it did become a bit repetitive throughout the sixty minutes of the whole performance. As for the sex bit, it really was quite something to see the puppets of the local farmers running around attached very closely behind the water buffalo! Finally, the drugs part - by the end of the performance we were unsure if we'd been on, or just needed them. Honestly though, it was well worth witnessing and the start of a good evening.

Our final few nights accommodation were at a back packers hostel in the style we'd become accustomed to on our overland journey out to Australia. It was a clean, almost palatial room overlooking the old town complete with flat screen tv and balcony. Worryingly though, the other double doors in the windows overlooking the roof tops of Hanoi didn't have a balcony, they just opened out, so no sleepwalking for us!



On our final night in the city we met up with an Australian couple, Richard & Anita, who we'd bumped into a few times in both Hanoi and SaPa and we ended up visiting the local Bia Hoi's (outside bars) where fresh beer is served up for about 15p a glass, nice and cold. However, we sat on tiny plastic stools the size of those you find in primary schools and we're sure that those chairs were responsible for the wobbly legs at the end of the evening rather than the content of those glasses that just kept being refreshed into the late hours of the night.