Phu Quoc and why you should think twice before going there

After the hustle and bustle of HCMC we wanted to have some beach time before we'd go to Hong Kong and then home via Russia. From what I had heard Phu Quoc, a big island in the south of Vietnam, seemed to be a perfect destination for a quiet getaway. However, things turned out differently.

Getting to Phu Quoc was pretty straightforward. Catch a bus from HCMC to either Ha Tien or Rach Gia from where there are daily ferries to Phu Quoc. You can easily make it in a day. Or check out VietJet, a low-cost carrier with incredibly cheap flights at times.

For our first night we stayed in a hostel in the main town of Duong Dong. From here we wanted to explore the island by motorbike to find a quiet and cheap bungalow place at the beach such as we knew from previous trips to Thailand, Cambodia and Malaysia. This turned out to be mission impossible. A quiet and peaceful island ten years ago there is now major development everywhere. The whole island seems to be a construction site. There are resort style high-class hotels everywhere charging exaggerated prices even though many of them are already run-down. Prices were hardly negotiable even though it was low season. One negative highlight was approaching Vinpearl resort with its crappy disney-style copies and endless rows of same-same houses. Another downside of these developments is that all but a few stretches of beach are hijacked by these resorts and you are not allowed to enter these stretches of beach if you are not their guests.

We basically ended up checking out all beaches only to be disappointed by finding them occupied by resorts and their barbed-wire fences and walls. The only undeveloped beach was Ong Lang beach but even there we found a construction site turning it into a resort pretty soon. In the end we stayed in our hostel and decided to go back to HCMC earlier since even this Moloch of a mega city seemed more relaxing than this resort-everywhere-infested place of paradise lost.

Ho Chi Minh City

How can a city be stressful and relaxed at the same time? How can it be utterly chaotic and yet highly organized? Very modern yet deeply traditional? Communist and capitalit at the same time? Steeped in a violent past yet looking to a bright future? It is these contrasts that give Ho Chi Minh City (HCMC), or Saigon as it is equally referred to, its particular charms.

Walk along HCMC's busy streets and you will communist propaganda next to a brand new Mc Donald's restaurant. A street stall serving Pho (the traditional Vietnamese noodle soup) in front of a glitzy Asian fusion rooftop bar. A beat-up soviet Diana moped overtaking a Porsche SUV on the sidewalk. A memorial commemorating the victims of US bombings framed by a glass walked skyscraper. Combine that with smoke=filled traditional cafes and stylish new Matcha-joints and an incredibly vast variety of restaurants and shops that serve every taste and you have the perfect recipe for a city that will make you stay longer than you had expected.

Apart from the classic tourist must-sees like the War-Remnants-Museum, Ben Than market, or the Cu Chi tunnels one and a half hours to the north, we spend our days just strolling around, exploring everything from Chicano-style barber shops to cockroach-infested street stalls. Although the center has its charms there are many other parts of the city that beg to explored. And with its proximity to the Mekong Delta there is even a quiet and rural aspect to the city.

In between Vietnamese iced-coffee, Hue-style pancakes, and Pho soups we put our feet up in the parks, talked to the locals (who are eager to get into a conversation with you without any second thoughts of selling you something) and just chilled. After the first two days we did not even the ever present sound of millions of scooters any more. One word of warning though: be careful when you cross the streets and never try to run. There will never be an empty street to cross but if you cross at a steady pace the flow of traffic will engulf you but bring you safely to the other side.

Sydney

Due to being outrageously expensive Australia was not on our list of destinations for this trip. However, with my good friend and old travel buddy Alfred living in Sydney it was just natural to stop over in Sydney for a couple of days before entering affordable terrain in South-East Asia. Alfred lives in Ashfield, a multicultural quarter of Sydney, which now happens to be my favourite part of Sydney. Oh, and there's even Aldi in Australia which made us feel even more like being at home :-)

Thanks Alfred and Zee for giving us a great time and taking care of us along the way.

Rarotonga

Cruisin' California

by Daniel

... welcome to the Hotel California ... what a lovely place ... welcome to the Hotel California ... what a nice surprise ... - these lines from the famous Eagle song certainly hold true when it comes to California. It has been a most lovely and beautiful place that would surprise us at almost every turn. However, when it comes to its hotels, well, they are dirty roadside motels that come with a nasty surprise - overstretched prices. Think 80 USD and up for cheap dirtholes or 35 USD and up for dorm beds in run-down hostels in Los Angeles.

Before we arrived for our four-day stay we had luckily arranged for AirBnB and a rental car. Since there wasn't much of a difference in price between a Toyota Yaris and a Mustang Convertible we, ehm well... See, I love cars, hadn't driven one in months, and the prospect of cruising curvy coastal cliff roads won me over.

Our first two days were dedicated to Los Angeles. With amazing sunny weather in early April we checked out the usual suspects Santa Monica, Hollywood, Beverly Hills, Venice Beach but also some unusual ones like Inglewood, Watts, Las Lomas, There are some cool things going on in LA like watching future skate legends stomp grabs in Venice's skate bowls, munching juicy dry-aged beefburgers that have your taste buds tingling or catching the sunset in Crestwood Hills rather than Hollywood Hills because all of those Hollywood kitsch places are just overrun by tourists and a waste of time.

With a sports car at our disposal we decided to get away from the big city and its traffic jams and drive north along the coast on the Pacific Coast Highway. It is a spectacular road with steep cliffs, sunbathing elephant seals, and twisted oak trees. Unfortunately, we had to discover that most of the road is blocked due to landslides and it might take more than a year to restore this dramatic road. So we changed plans and turned back in order to get to Fresno and explore the Rockies from there. After a long drive late into the night we ended up in the countryside of central California and being just too tired to drive any further we pulled into a dirt road and slept in the car.

Waking up we were surprised to see were we had ended up. We had entered an orange plantation with endless rows of orange trees in full blossom. Stepping out of the car was like stepping into a bottle of shampoo. The sweet flowery scent of orange blossoms penetrated just everything and it was just surreal to walk on the fallen leaves that made the trees and the ground look like snow. In the darkness we had not realised that we had entered an orange plantation but trespassing is a serious offence in the States, so we quickly sped off towards the mountains and King's Canyon National Park. The road wound its way higher and higher and eventually patches of snow turned up that became ever more dense until we found ourselves in some massive snowfall. 90% of the roads in the National Park were closed including the connection road to Sequoia NP and we had to turn back and take another trip chasing down back country roads until we reached Sequoia NP. Snow had turned to heavy cold rain and although this meant fewer tourists it would have been nicer to walk through the giant Sequoia forest with sunshine. We still walked around and also had a look at General Sherman, the tree which is claimed to be the largest living thing on this planet.

Fed up with the rain, the cold and a gloomy weather forecast the desert became an obvious choice. Driving carefully over snowy mountain passes the beautiful forest scenery changed into barren plains and soon even the cacti became sparse. Approaching Grand canyon we passed empty ghost towns and deep desert gorges. This diversity of landscapes really impressed us and is what makes California a more than worthwhile place to visit. We will certainly come back one day though with more time and more money to spend.

Bacalar and Tulum

With a blocked credit card due to data theft after paying at the wrong shop in Guatemala we ran out of money and decided to chill out on Mexico’s fine Caribbean beaches in our hammocks. Naively, I thought Mexico would still be the rough yet affordable place it had been back in 2002. Well, the world changes and Mexico’s Riviera Maya changes even faster and it is a far cry from the cheap backpacker destination it had been back then. With resorts popping up almost everywhere there are few spots that still contain the vibe. Bacalar is one of these places.

We managed to hitch a ride with two cool kitesurfing dudes from Flores to Bacalar through Belize. Crammed in between their equipment in a VW Gol it was nevertheless a very pleasant ride that we wanted to end with a couple of beers but ultimately were too tired to do since the border crossings took a good deal of time.

In Bacalar we found a basic but nice spot to camp in our hammocks at El Magico. With the market not far away we were able to cook our own food (which consisted mostly of Guacamole) and met some nice people in similar circumstances. With two Argentinians, an Ecuadoriana and a French we grilled up from scratch a nice BBQ of steaks, veggies, salads and even grilled bread for just under $2 each at the azure blue waters of the Laguna de Bacalar. I must say, Argentinians are real masters at their parilla.

Bacalar is not only blessed with a picture-perfect-all-shades-of-blue fresh water (!) lagoon, there are also a couple of cenotes (fresh water wells fed by underground rivers) around that make for an amazing and refreshing swim.

After a couple of days of lazing, swimming and Guacamole we hitched north to the white sand beaches of Tulum. The people you meet when hitchhiking are really interesting. This time we met a Spanish guy who was not on holidays but tried to get his brother out of jail who was sitting for alleged smuggling of parrots. He seemed a bit frustrated at corrupt Mexican officials and was happy to vent this and after chatting away for three hours he brought us directly to Tulum beach where we found a hammock space right by the sea. The sand was so white that it illuminated at night and might have been mistaken for snow if it were not for all the people in surf shorts and bikinis. And it was as fine as powder which seems nice until you realize that it penetrates everything when blown up by the steady winds at the coast. One morning Frieda woke me up and there were like sand lakes in my eye sockets. There will-probably still be Caribbean sand in our backpacks by the time we return to Germany.

In Tulum we of course visited the ruins that engulf two picturesque bays but are now complete with tourists shops and a small theme park. It is, however, possible to just swim or climb in without paying the entrance fee provided you have some climbing and or swimming skills.

Forced by circumstance we went really low-budget on this leg but we discovered that it does not mean that you have less fun. Maybe we should have hitchhiked before, especially in Latin America and sleeping in a hammock is actually quite comfortable if the temperatures are right.

 

Tikal

Tikal might well be the most interesting pre-Columbian site architecturally. You can stroll the well-excavated site and be amazed at every turn. If you come early and leave the central acropolis for the late afternoon, it is possible to dodge the crowds and have many areas for yourself. Just go to the central bus station in Flores, take the local minivan (you’ll sit with the workers and it’s cheaper) and you have the freedom to return whenever you want. Should you want a guide, you can easily arrange someone on-site, so there’s absolutely no need to prearrange although everybody will tell you to do so.

My highlight was climbing Templo V which will have you fight vertigo but rewards you with spectacular views and meditative solitude.

El Reino Kan – In the Kingdom of the Snake - El Mirador

In my youth I have been fascinated by the adventures of a fictitious university professor and his quests for mythical artefacts in remote corners of the globe. Indiana Jones made the (mostly) boring job of an archaeologist look as sexy as a Victoria’s Secret photo shoot. As a child, my parents would take me to forgotten ruins of medieval knights, the biblical sites of ancient Israel or the majestic remnants of the Roman Empire, but when I first ventured to Central America in 2002 I was stunned by the beauty and mysticism that surround the lost cities of the Mayas. Dodging poisoned arrow traps and running from giant stone balls I explored Palenque, Chichen Itza, Tulum and Tikal, the latter having certainly been an absolute highlight.

Back in 2002 only a handful of specialized archaeologists and local chicle gatherers knew of the existence of a site set deep in the Guatemaltecan jungle, a city dwarfing all other Maya cities in magnitude and importance. El Mirador, named for the view you have from the top of is massive pyramids in an otherwise flat landscape, was the centrepiece of an influential Mayan kingdom – El Reino Kan, the Kingdom of the Snake.

Back in 2002 I had no idea of its existence and if I’d had I probably wouldn’t have had time to explore it. It takes a 5-day jungle expedition to explore the site. And when I heard of it in 2003 when major excavations took place (before you’d probably only have seen forested hills) it has always been a dream of mine to return to Guatemala and feel like Indiana Jones again. That dream came through in March 2017.

Arriving in Flores, the island town serving as the gateway to Tikal, we shopped around the various tour agencies for a reliable guide. Although we had some cheap offers we settled for the (in my eyes) best choice, the Cooperativa La Carmelita. These guys and girls represent the village closest to the site, they maintain the paths in their former chicle territory, they have the best knowledge of the area.

We set out early to catch the first of only two busses that run to Carmelita. The beat up 60s Mercedes Bus took us in a bumpy 4-hour ride over unpaved roads through dry farmland to the end of the road at Carmelita. From here it would be a roughly 50km walk through dry jungle to El Mirador itself. In the bus we also met our group who would turn out to be a hilariously funny and lovable bunch. Two Dutch, an American, a Brit, an Austrian, a German and our local guides. While we had an early lunch our guides would prepare the mules and off we went to the first camp at another Mayan city called el Tintal.

Hiking proved to be easier than we had expected. Although it was incredibly hot, the path was well visible and the terrain mostly flat. We had packed lightly and because the mules carried our food the water bottles were the heaviest we had to carry. With just a short break for a small snack we arrived early at the first camp where cold showers waited for us. There are no streams or other sources of water (except for our sweating bodies) on the way. After a simple but delicious dinner we explored the site and climbed the highest temple to watch a superb sunset in an almost cloudless sky.

On the second day we had a far longer stretch to walk so we started early. Walking mostly on acient Maya walkways we passed a number of Mayan structures that are otherwise unintelligible for the untrained eye. Thanks to my university seminaries in medieval archaeology I spooted  some unusual small hills that seemed to me out of place. Our guide confirmed and although he was eager to keep us at a steady pace he paused to show us how the structures were built using limestone and concrete-like clay. Unfortunately, you can also see wild tunnels leading to the structures, remnants of graverobbers who would dig illegally in order to find artefacts. Ceramics bearing the name of ancient rulers can make you up to half a million Dollars on the black market.

Although there is nothing but monotonous jungle, every now and then interrupted by a group of spider monkeys or small deer, you can get a sense of this highly dynamic cultural landscape when you walk with an open eye (and/or a good guide). What seems like an inhospitable hot and dry forest was once a centre of Mayan civilization with a highly sophisticated system of irrigation. There had been fields, villages, roads, canals and military encampments everywhere providing for a population of more than a million. Now, there’s nothing.

Tired and exhausted we finished our second stretch, finally arriving at El Mirador. We entered some outlying temples and finally our guide revealed to us that he had been part of the 2003 excavation team when we came upon a massive inscription that revealed a good deal of the city’s history and significance as the capital of the rulers of the Snake, a motif that would follow us all over the place.

When we arrived at our camp there was massive excitement. A helicopter had landed and we asked the pilot if he could bring us a bottle of whiskey when he would come back the next day, to which he agreed. And, first and foremost, we wanted to see El Mirador’s highlight, the 72m high pyramid of La Danta, the highest structure of ancient America and maybe the highest pyramid in the world. Although we would see it the other day, me and the other German guy set out straight to watch the sunset from the pyramd’s top. Our guide joined us being afraid of us getting lost in the forest and really, it turned out to be a 30 minute march to reach it from the camp in the city’s central acropolis, a reminder of the magnitude of this megapolis. Climbing over steep and withered stairs we made it to the top and were rewarded with oe of the best views imaginable. Into every direction you could only see endless jungle in a 360 degree view. With a binocular you could see the jungle covered pyramids of other Maya cities that beg for excavation. The sunset had the wow-factor every traveller is looking for, undisturbed by any signs of civilization with birds whooping over your head and the T-Rex-like groans of the howler monkeys. Bam!

I could go on describing El Mirador forever – the astronomic observatory, the smaller and bigger pyramids with their symmetrical and astronomical orientation, the artificial pools and basins, the paved roads, the impressive decorations and elaborate carvings, the acropolis and its holy sites, the city walls and its sheer size and so on and so on. I must say I was thrilled although a pessimist would say that 90% of the place is just jungle with millions of spiders. True! Only 10% is excavated. But what I experienced was the Indiana Jones within me – minus the death traps , mummies and rolling stone balls but with a deeper understanding of the complexity of Maya society and culture, its achievements, its cruelty, its mysticism. Never mind the blisters that plagued on the two days of marching back,never mind the pilot who did not retur but took our money,  never mind the heat and the mosquitoes and the spiders. What an experience with awesome people in an awesome place!