Saturday, 7 May 2011
Wednesday, 4 May 2011
Phu Quoc Island
Unspoilt Phu Quoc is a tropical island tucked away off the southern tip of Vietnam close to the coast of Cambodia. Inland lies a dense jungle - the backdrop for mile after mile of white sand beaches, swaying palm trees and the warm turquoise waters of the Gulf of Thailand.
Having flown in from Dalat and hopped onto another plane at Ho Chi Minh City Airport we make our way to the peaceful get-away-from-it-all Mango Bay, an eco-friendly resort set around two private beaches at Bai Ong Lang, north of the more popular but still largely undeveloped Long Beach area.
Our garden bungalow set back a few metres from one of the beaches is a dream. It's simple, but perfect - one huge room with four-poster bed replete with mosquito net draped around it, a floor to ceiling mirror, desk and wardrobe, wooden window shutters and a large door shutter opening out onto a wide verandah, with table, chairs and comfy sofa.
Topping it off - and giving it real wow factor - is the bathroom, located outdoors. Loo, washbasin and shower are set back under a canopy from a gorgeous flowerbed. Outside it may be, but it's completely private - surrounded by teak wood walls on every side. Showering in the garden it is then - come rain or shine - with just birds, butterfies and a few friendly geckos to keep one company. Now that's what we call getting back to nature.
Another bonus is that any neighbours are a long way away - the bungalows are designed in such a way that you are able to enjoy total privacy. You can lose yourself in the sheer tranquility of it all, and have as little or as much contact with the rest of the human race as you choose. If it's complete peace and quiet you seek then you can find it here.
Mango Bay's two beaches are both lovely - sheltered coves with little rocky headlands jutting out to sea - perfect for swimming, snorkelling and just plain relaxing. Having started in the far north and taken in Hanoi, Sapa, Halong Bay, Hoi An and the Central Highlands around Dalat - Ho Chi Minh City (Saigon) and the mighty Mekong River next on agenda - we are in the mood to do very little over the next five days other than pull up the beach loungers, get out some books and just get plain lazy for a bit.
The resort itself is both informal and spacious, spread out around an open-on-all-sides main restaurant - the front of it almost touches the ocean - and there is also a separate beach bar just a couple minutes walk away.
First call after waking to the sound of birds, and with natural light filtering in through our shutters, is for breakfast - a very relaxed affair with a wonderful spread of fresh fruit, different types of homemade bread, museli, freshly cooked eggs, pancakes, omlettes and sizzling rashers of bacon, mango (naturally), pineapple and passion fruit juices and the most delicious jams - banana and strawberry - that we have tasted anywhere.
After taking a walk around the resort's gorgeous butterfly garden, vegetable patches and woods it's time for a relax on those lovely loungers under straw umbrellas and take a dip in water as warm as a bath.
Having had such a sumptous brekkie - which we linger over far too long (something to do with the view from our table) lunch at the beach bar is a simple affair and shared by the two of us. There are a few other diners there and we watch in amusement over ice-cold drinks as dishes are delivered to the table by waiters on bicycles who have two-wheeled it - one hand steering , the other holding lunch - from the main restaurant about 200 metres away.
After a lite bite there's nothing much for it but to chill out again in the afternoon and repeat the dose - reading, swimming, sunbathing and snorkelling.
Before you know it dusk is setting in and, with Mango Bay west facing, the sunsets here are among the most spectacular we have seen on our travels. Six until 8pm is happy hour at either bar and it would be rude not to join in the fun, especially with some great deals on the cocktails. So 6pm becomes sundowner time in more ways than one before we head to our table for an evening meal which can either take the form of BBQ meats - chicken, beef or pork - or fish freshly caught that day.
Decisions, decisions - and it was while trying to make one of those that we overheard a Welsh accent on a nearby table. Time for introductions all round. The voice was that of Adrian, who hails originally from Tredegar. He and his wife Bah are teachers at an international school in Hanoi and, having recently got married, were enjoying a few days away together with daughter Hanah.
After putting the world to rights, and trying to figure out how far Wales will progress in the Rugby World Cup, it's back to those decisions - which fish dish to go for.
Yes, its that languid and laidback here - and each day falls into the same busy doing nothing pattern. We should be getting out and about on motrobikes to see the island's infastructure, visit the little fishing villages that dot the coast, head for a factory producing a pungent fish sauce and see the necklaces and earrings produced at a pearl farm.
Sadly, and shamefully, we do none of these things. We are gripped by Mango fever - and with a constant high of around 30C, but lulled by gentle breezes and comforted by oodles of shade, we find it's as much as we can do just to decide which beach to visit on any given day. It's gotten as bad as that.
Oh, well. In a couple of days time we will get a serious reality check when we head for fast and furious Ho Chi Minh City, so we will resign ourselves to making the most of playing at lotus eaters for the time being and revel in Phu Quoc for what it is - a taste of paradise proper.
Talk is that this stunning Vietnamese island may fall into the hands of greedy developers over the next few years and could become another Costa del Soulless. Already a huge new main highway is being built and cuts north to south like a deep scar through the forests. There are also plans for a new international airport, golf course and casino.
On the plus side, the vast majority of it - around 70% is protected under national park status - so it would appear that Mango Bay will be safe for others to enjoy it as much as we did. If it's a beach hideaway idyll your after then this is as good as it gets.
Having flown in from Dalat and hopped onto another plane at Ho Chi Minh City Airport we make our way to the peaceful get-away-from-it-all Mango Bay, an eco-friendly resort set around two private beaches at Bai Ong Lang, north of the more popular but still largely undeveloped Long Beach area.
Our garden bungalow set back a few metres from one of the beaches is a dream. It's simple, but perfect - one huge room with four-poster bed replete with mosquito net draped around it, a floor to ceiling mirror, desk and wardrobe, wooden window shutters and a large door shutter opening out onto a wide verandah, with table, chairs and comfy sofa.
Topping it off - and giving it real wow factor - is the bathroom, located outdoors. Loo, washbasin and shower are set back under a canopy from a gorgeous flowerbed. Outside it may be, but it's completely private - surrounded by teak wood walls on every side. Showering in the garden it is then - come rain or shine - with just birds, butterfies and a few friendly geckos to keep one company. Now that's what we call getting back to nature.
Another bonus is that any neighbours are a long way away - the bungalows are designed in such a way that you are able to enjoy total privacy. You can lose yourself in the sheer tranquility of it all, and have as little or as much contact with the rest of the human race as you choose. If it's complete peace and quiet you seek then you can find it here.
Mango Bay's two beaches are both lovely - sheltered coves with little rocky headlands jutting out to sea - perfect for swimming, snorkelling and just plain relaxing. Having started in the far north and taken in Hanoi, Sapa, Halong Bay, Hoi An and the Central Highlands around Dalat - Ho Chi Minh City (Saigon) and the mighty Mekong River next on agenda - we are in the mood to do very little over the next five days other than pull up the beach loungers, get out some books and just get plain lazy for a bit.
The resort itself is both informal and spacious, spread out around an open-on-all-sides main restaurant - the front of it almost touches the ocean - and there is also a separate beach bar just a couple minutes walk away.
First call after waking to the sound of birds, and with natural light filtering in through our shutters, is for breakfast - a very relaxed affair with a wonderful spread of fresh fruit, different types of homemade bread, museli, freshly cooked eggs, pancakes, omlettes and sizzling rashers of bacon, mango (naturally), pineapple and passion fruit juices and the most delicious jams - banana and strawberry - that we have tasted anywhere.
After taking a walk around the resort's gorgeous butterfly garden, vegetable patches and woods it's time for a relax on those lovely loungers under straw umbrellas and take a dip in water as warm as a bath.
Having had such a sumptous brekkie - which we linger over far too long (something to do with the view from our table) lunch at the beach bar is a simple affair and shared by the two of us. There are a few other diners there and we watch in amusement over ice-cold drinks as dishes are delivered to the table by waiters on bicycles who have two-wheeled it - one hand steering , the other holding lunch - from the main restaurant about 200 metres away.
After a lite bite there's nothing much for it but to chill out again in the afternoon and repeat the dose - reading, swimming, sunbathing and snorkelling.
Before you know it dusk is setting in and, with Mango Bay west facing, the sunsets here are among the most spectacular we have seen on our travels. Six until 8pm is happy hour at either bar and it would be rude not to join in the fun, especially with some great deals on the cocktails. So 6pm becomes sundowner time in more ways than one before we head to our table for an evening meal which can either take the form of BBQ meats - chicken, beef or pork - or fish freshly caught that day.
Decisions, decisions - and it was while trying to make one of those that we overheard a Welsh accent on a nearby table. Time for introductions all round. The voice was that of Adrian, who hails originally from Tredegar. He and his wife Bah are teachers at an international school in Hanoi and, having recently got married, were enjoying a few days away together with daughter Hanah.
After putting the world to rights, and trying to figure out how far Wales will progress in the Rugby World Cup, it's back to those decisions - which fish dish to go for.
Yes, its that languid and laidback here - and each day falls into the same busy doing nothing pattern. We should be getting out and about on motrobikes to see the island's infastructure, visit the little fishing villages that dot the coast, head for a factory producing a pungent fish sauce and see the necklaces and earrings produced at a pearl farm.
Sadly, and shamefully, we do none of these things. We are gripped by Mango fever - and with a constant high of around 30C, but lulled by gentle breezes and comforted by oodles of shade, we find it's as much as we can do just to decide which beach to visit on any given day. It's gotten as bad as that.
Oh, well. In a couple of days time we will get a serious reality check when we head for fast and furious Ho Chi Minh City, so we will resign ourselves to making the most of playing at lotus eaters for the time being and revel in Phu Quoc for what it is - a taste of paradise proper.
Talk is that this stunning Vietnamese island may fall into the hands of greedy developers over the next few years and could become another Costa del Soulless. Already a huge new main highway is being built and cuts north to south like a deep scar through the forests. There are also plans for a new international airport, golf course and casino.
On the plus side, the vast majority of it - around 70% is protected under national park status - so it would appear that Mango Bay will be safe for others to enjoy it as much as we did. If it's a beach hideaway idyll your after then this is as good as it gets.
Tuesday, 3 May 2011
Monday, 2 May 2011
Dalat and the Central Highlands
Strawberry fields forever. You won't find much rice grown in the Central Highlands area of Vietnam. This mountainous and forest-clad land, once a refuge for Viet-Cong soldiers during the conflict with America, is instead a paradise for fruit, flower and vegetable growers.
We base ourselves in Dalat, a large town with a French colonial influence - there are elegant chateau-style villas galore and it even boasts its own 'Eiffel Tower'- and check into a hotel in the centre. It's a big barn of a place, but, with the summer season over, there are hardly any guests.
It's night-time and we take a quick self-guided tour of the town, stopping at its central market to see the locals go about their business. Our first impression is that unlike Hoi An, our last port of call, Dalat is much less of a tourist town. Our second is how much cooler it is here - and we quickly learn that its where Ho Chi Minh City (Saigon) residents come to escape the searing heat.
The centre of town itself is nothing to write home about - its main street a neon-lit strip of cafes and bars, but over the next few nights we dive into a couple of good restaurants, particularly the bistro-style Long Hoa and the cosy V Cafe which does a nice line in, not only excellent Vietnamese food, but live jazz and blues too.
Breakfast at our hotel the next morning is a tad surreal. The two of us find ourselves solitary diners in this immense ballroom-type annexe, with some five or six immaculately-attired waiters and waitresses. They are all extremely friendly and attentive, to the point of overkill. No sooner are we off our seats to check the content of the buffet than they are fussing around us. They mean well, but we can't help feel dozens of eyes on us, watching our every move.
Our bedroom, too, while fresh, spacious and spotessly clean, is supposed to have a view of the impressive man-made boomerang-shaped Xuan Huong Lake. It does - partially. The lake is there alright - in the distance. In front of it and smack outside is a tatty playground, with rusty carousel and swings that look as if they have been there since the 40s. We can't fault the place for cleanliness and service, but it lacks atmosphere and we are expecting to see Basil Fawlty frogmarch Manuel through the dining room door any time soon.
The next morning we take a 7km walk around the lake, which is flanked by a golf course, flower gardens harbouring hydrangeas, fushisas and orchids, and, on the other side, the top-of-the-range Hotel Sofitel Dalat Palace. On the way we pass by a number of horse-drawn carriage rides that have kitsch written all over them.
Where Dalat scores is that it's a great base for exploring the lush countryside around, and the best way to see it is riding pilion with the town's Easy Riders motorbike crew. They are local guides with a great insider knowledge of the area and for 20 dollars will strap you on the back of their high-powered machines, get their motors running and take you down their very own Thunder Roads.
Okay, let's go for it. Chris on one, John on the other. Our Free Rider (not all embrace the Easy Rider term. Local politics among the bikers, we understand) is Mr Dai Loy and a younger sidekick.
After a false kick-start - John, while clambering on to the back of Dai's bike catches his leg on the box at the rear and, with rucksack full to bursting and off-balance, tips backwards and is sent sprawling to the ground in hilarious fashion. Chris has missed a quite splendid photo opportunity of her husband looking like a dead ant, while there are hardly suppressed giggles all round.
Anyway no damage done (rucksack and motorbike helmet break fall), only to pride, so off we go in Born To Run style. This is the life, leaving the city behind and out into the surrounding verdant countryside, fresh air, clear blue skies and the sun on your back.
We climb and climb into the mountains - the second highest range in Vietnam - every twist and turn offering one breath-taking vista after another. There are frequent stops along the way - at veggie and flower farms, coffee plantations, a visit to an ethnic minority village to see the local ladies weave wonderful patterns into their embroidery. Dai Loy and his partner are proving genial guides and are always receptive to our many questions.
There's also a quick pit-stop to see how rice wine - some of it 70% proof - is made in huge vats. Chris bottles sampling a glass of the moonshine but, naturally, John does not want to miss out on a freebie of the alcohol kind. Verdict - fine nose, full of fruity rice flavour, smooth and full-bodied. Okay, caught in the moment again. Second bite of cherry and sensible answer please - never tried it, but imagine it to be like paint-stripper.
A quick lunch stop - and Dai Loy and mate (whose name we never really got to grips with) whisk us off to the popular Elephant Falls. You can't see much from the top, so we embark on a very dodgy and uneven descent - part path, part cliff - to the waterfall's base. There is a cave at the foot of the falls which we go through to feel the mist-like spray as the water roars over it. You can also squeeze behind the falls themsleves, but it's slippery and unsure underfoot, so discretion being the better part of valour we decide against. Good move, especially on John's part - having already had one tumble and now a glass of rice wine.
Nearby is the Linh An Pagoda. Inside are three large Buddhas, flanked by two more multi-armed ones. But the most spectacular sight lies in gardens behind - a huge Happy Buddha with halo (neon-lit at night). This jolly white giant of a fellow, who sports a huge grin and super-size belly, must be nearly 60-ft tall.
We round off a full day with a visit to the Cuong Hoan traditional silk centre at the nearby Nam Ban village. We enter a small factory and are shown how the fabric is made - from the sorting of locally-grown silkworm cocoons to the boiling, unravelling and dyeing of threads to the finished article of the gorgeous garments themselves.
We base ourselves in Dalat, a large town with a French colonial influence - there are elegant chateau-style villas galore and it even boasts its own 'Eiffel Tower'- and check into a hotel in the centre. It's a big barn of a place, but, with the summer season over, there are hardly any guests.
It's night-time and we take a quick self-guided tour of the town, stopping at its central market to see the locals go about their business. Our first impression is that unlike Hoi An, our last port of call, Dalat is much less of a tourist town. Our second is how much cooler it is here - and we quickly learn that its where Ho Chi Minh City (Saigon) residents come to escape the searing heat.
The centre of town itself is nothing to write home about - its main street a neon-lit strip of cafes and bars, but over the next few nights we dive into a couple of good restaurants, particularly the bistro-style Long Hoa and the cosy V Cafe which does a nice line in, not only excellent Vietnamese food, but live jazz and blues too.
Breakfast at our hotel the next morning is a tad surreal. The two of us find ourselves solitary diners in this immense ballroom-type annexe, with some five or six immaculately-attired waiters and waitresses. They are all extremely friendly and attentive, to the point of overkill. No sooner are we off our seats to check the content of the buffet than they are fussing around us. They mean well, but we can't help feel dozens of eyes on us, watching our every move.
Our bedroom, too, while fresh, spacious and spotessly clean, is supposed to have a view of the impressive man-made boomerang-shaped Xuan Huong Lake. It does - partially. The lake is there alright - in the distance. In front of it and smack outside is a tatty playground, with rusty carousel and swings that look as if they have been there since the 40s. We can't fault the place for cleanliness and service, but it lacks atmosphere and we are expecting to see Basil Fawlty frogmarch Manuel through the dining room door any time soon.
The next morning we take a 7km walk around the lake, which is flanked by a golf course, flower gardens harbouring hydrangeas, fushisas and orchids, and, on the other side, the top-of-the-range Hotel Sofitel Dalat Palace. On the way we pass by a number of horse-drawn carriage rides that have kitsch written all over them.
Where Dalat scores is that it's a great base for exploring the lush countryside around, and the best way to see it is riding pilion with the town's Easy Riders motorbike crew. They are local guides with a great insider knowledge of the area and for 20 dollars will strap you on the back of their high-powered machines, get their motors running and take you down their very own Thunder Roads.
Okay, let's go for it. Chris on one, John on the other. Our Free Rider (not all embrace the Easy Rider term. Local politics among the bikers, we understand) is Mr Dai Loy and a younger sidekick.
After a false kick-start - John, while clambering on to the back of Dai's bike catches his leg on the box at the rear and, with rucksack full to bursting and off-balance, tips backwards and is sent sprawling to the ground in hilarious fashion. Chris has missed a quite splendid photo opportunity of her husband looking like a dead ant, while there are hardly suppressed giggles all round.
Anyway no damage done (rucksack and motorbike helmet break fall), only to pride, so off we go in Born To Run style. This is the life, leaving the city behind and out into the surrounding verdant countryside, fresh air, clear blue skies and the sun on your back.
We climb and climb into the mountains - the second highest range in Vietnam - every twist and turn offering one breath-taking vista after another. There are frequent stops along the way - at veggie and flower farms, coffee plantations, a visit to an ethnic minority village to see the local ladies weave wonderful patterns into their embroidery. Dai Loy and his partner are proving genial guides and are always receptive to our many questions.
There's also a quick pit-stop to see how rice wine - some of it 70% proof - is made in huge vats. Chris bottles sampling a glass of the moonshine but, naturally, John does not want to miss out on a freebie of the alcohol kind. Verdict - fine nose, full of fruity rice flavour, smooth and full-bodied. Okay, caught in the moment again. Second bite of cherry and sensible answer please - never tried it, but imagine it to be like paint-stripper.
A quick lunch stop - and Dai Loy and mate (whose name we never really got to grips with) whisk us off to the popular Elephant Falls. You can't see much from the top, so we embark on a very dodgy and uneven descent - part path, part cliff - to the waterfall's base. There is a cave at the foot of the falls which we go through to feel the mist-like spray as the water roars over it. You can also squeeze behind the falls themsleves, but it's slippery and unsure underfoot, so discretion being the better part of valour we decide against. Good move, especially on John's part - having already had one tumble and now a glass of rice wine.
Nearby is the Linh An Pagoda. Inside are three large Buddhas, flanked by two more multi-armed ones. But the most spectacular sight lies in gardens behind - a huge Happy Buddha with halo (neon-lit at night). This jolly white giant of a fellow, who sports a huge grin and super-size belly, must be nearly 60-ft tall.
We round off a full day with a visit to the Cuong Hoan traditional silk centre at the nearby Nam Ban village. We enter a small factory and are shown how the fabric is made - from the sorting of locally-grown silkworm cocoons to the boiling, unravelling and dyeing of threads to the finished article of the gorgeous garments themselves.
Back in Dalat that evening we sit in the V Cafe listening to Beatrice, a cool and sultry jazz singer from the Philippines with a coffee-coated voice not dissimilar to Sade or Nora Jones, and reflect over a glass of the local red Dalat that this relatlively untouched part of Vietnam is unquestionably the real deal. It's off the beaten track a bit - but that is the whole point.
Tomorrow sees us head off to the island of Phu Quoc. It lies off the southern tip of the mainland and promises sunshine, swaying palm trees and a warm turquoise sea. Sadly, it's also under threat from unscrupulous developers, so time to go now before it's too late.
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