Jazz at the Spiegeltent

After the joys of the boys in the morning (the Vienna boys choir, that is!) I then had the pleasure to attend Sunday afternoon jazz at the Spiegeltent, as part of the Brisbane Festival.  I was quite proud of this, as I had done something VERY CLEVER - by booking the ticket through school as part of 'professional learning' (because one of the performers did a workshop with our kids) - I can write myself a certificate and count 3 hours of professional development towards the stupid 30 we have to do as part of maintaining teacher registration!  I'm now even thinking, given that the Vienna Boys choir concert feature SSA singing, that I might be able to stick that down as PD as well!

Anyway, the concert was quite good.  The first group, the interestingly named Luara Carlson-Carp trio (either a typo and it should really be Laura - or the product of yet another parent who can't spell, and thus lumps their child with some stupid name for the rest of their life - methinks the latter more likely!) were surprisingly quite good.  She has a lovely, silky, inoffensive quality to her voice.  Whilst I wouldn't go buy the CD, I could listen to her again if I had to.

The second group was the Jacam Manricks (seriously, where do they dig up these names?) band - and they were VERY GOOD.  Fantastic in fact.  I loved it.  Or maybe I just loved him - he is sooo cute!  Regardless, I've never heard anyone play a saxophone like that - not even at Ronnie Scotts - well actually I never heard any saxophonists at Ronny Scotts anyway!  It was just amazing.

The final group was the one we'd actually come to see - Ingrid James and the San Gabriel 7 featuring Bill Watrous.  Awesome.  Clearly the best group there, they literally wiped the floor with everyone else.  Magnificent.  I mean, maybe I'm a bit biased - Ingrid James is after all the mother of one of the girls I teach and she comes to our Weight Watchers meetings also - but still, they were clearly the best.

So in all, a very pleasant Sunday - with the added bonus of ticking off another hour of professional development!  Nice one!

Bye bye, kmuki.com!

Recently I posted about my frustration at having discovered that my blog address, www.kmuki.com, was no longer pointing to my blog, but to some bizarre word press thing.  Well, I did a bit of digging to try to find out how I could my domain back, and boy, it gets interesting.

First thing I did was hunt through google apps website - to no avail - to try to find where I could pay for the thing.  Nope, no luck there.  Did a google search on how to renew the subscription - but you can't do that if its not showing in your account settings anyway.  So no dice there.

But I did find a link that told me that the address was now owned by a company called enom.  So, as I couldn't find any way of contacting google for help - there's no email addresses there to contact anyone - I tried then contacting enom.  Who promptly wrote back with the godaddy.com search that I had found before, telling me that my domain, kmuki.com, is now owned by a Patrick Edwards, of Parker, Colorado.  No business name but I have gleaned, from his email address, that he's probably a chartered accountant or something - he has CPA in his email address.

I wrote to Mr Edwards and basically asked him if he was a business that bought / sold domains, or whether he was a private company that just happened to buy this one.  I explained how it had been my blog address and the situation behind how it came to expire.  And the blighter didn't answer my questions, but wrote back saying he'd sell it to me, for the right price.

So, I wrote back again - again asking what sort of company he was, and asking what he'd paid for it, what currency etc.  The prick wrote back wanting $400 USD for it - for a free domain that cost $15/year to maintain (and would still cost $15 / year or so even if I bought it back) - now honestly, as if I'm going to pay $400 for a more personal blog address on a blog I rarely use (although I've posted 3 posts or so in the last few days).  Get stuffed.

So alas, kmuki.com has gone.  But I'm being a bit sneaky - I can have kmuki.net if I want - $9 - and I can 'backorder' kmuki.com when it becomes available again.  So look out Mr Patrick Greedy Edwards - kmuki.com might just be back with its rightful owner sooner than you think!

Hold the Pergolesi

If you told me last night that today I would go hear the Vienna Boys Choir I would have laughed in your face - primarily because everyone knows that concerts at QPAC cost an arm and a leg (why? I don't know) and this would certainly be true of a world class choir of the calibre as this - so of course I wouldn't be going. Yet this morning, lying in bed, I discovered that there still were some of the cheaper ($69 mind you!) tickets available, and on a whim, given I would be at South Bank later today for a much cheaper event, I decided to hop on the train and go. Fortunately the $5.95 online booking fee prohibited me from booing the tickets online - I figured, given the lateness of the hour and the fact tickets were still showing as available, I'd just try my luck at the box office. Luckily I did, as, whilst waiting in the queue for tickets, a woman approached and asked if I wanted a free one. She was from Kenmore high school and they'd had a no show, so rather than let the ticket waste, it was mine if I wanted it. I however couldn't in all conscience take it for free, so I offered her what was in my wallet - $20 - and the ticket was mine. I couldn't believe my luck!

The concert consisted of Pergolesi's Stabat Mater, followed by an interval and then a selection of shorter pieces. First of all, someone needs to educate the Brisbane concert public on concert etiquette. You absolutely DO NOT clap after EVERY SINGLE SECTION of a major work like the Stabat Mater!  How to look like a bunch of provincial, uneducated plebs! It was quite disgraceful - but then I realised - alas, so was the performance! Just diabolical! Intonation all over the shop, soloists who REALLY SHOULDN'T be soloists (some very good ones of course, but some shockers!) - and wherever did they drag up that string quartet? Hopefully not Brisbane locals (but alas I strongly suspect they were!).  I quite seriously was disappointed and debated not returning for the second half. But what to do to kill time in the meantime?

In the end, I returned for the second half - and was quite pleased I did. Much, MUCH better performance.  Mozart's Laudate Dominium particularly was a stand out. And the Trisch Trasch polka was quite good.

Not a bad way to spend a Sunday morning - now lets see how the Spiegeltent gig shapes up...

Something Weird Going On

Something weird is going on with blogger.  Ok, granted I haven't posted on here for, well, a VERY LONG TIME - but still, I don't get it.  I tried to open my blog today and discovered that my address, the wonderful www.kmuki.com, now points to some strange wordpress thing - and my blog is missing!  This is most definitely NOT GOOD.

When I tried to contact blogger about it - do you think I could? No, there's no way of actually contacting blogger.  And because there's now all this weird google stuff going through blogger, google apps and so on - I can't even figure out if the issue is caused by the fact I should've paid some money or something.  Pretty odd if I have to, considering that www.kmuki.com was set up as a free address.

But what takes the cake is that I can't even find the tab on google apps to let me change my bank account / payment details if I wanted to...

Meanwhile, I've tried, for now, to solve the problem by going back to www.kmuki.blogspot.com.  Let's see if in the next few days I can figure it out and GET MY BLOG BACK!!!

Bye Bye Benny

Alas, today after almost 16 years of happy doggy life, Mum's dog Benson passed away.

It was quite sad. The poor little thing had been going downhill for a time, having lost his teeth quite a while ago, and then slowly but surely losing his ability to get up and go - but he was a friendly, chirpy little thing. For the most part anyway - he did have a tendency to be a bit vicious when he didn't like being left in the house by himself for any length of time. He certainly was Mum's dog, following her absolutely everywhere - if she got up and left the room, so did he. He was never more than a few feet away from her.

I'll have to dig out my favourite video of him, which is he and Dad singing "How much is that doggy in the window?". He would get really wound up by Dad's incredibly elongated (and not necessarily tuneful) "hooooooooooooooowwwwww" that he would often start singing himself anyway just to shut Dad up. Never worked though.

Benny was not really a fan of me - not that he didn't like me, but for 11 years of his life I wasn't here, and he was much more into Mum anyway. But a year ago Mum and Dad went away to New Zealand or something, and rather than subject the poor little thing to a fortnight at the kennel (he never would have lasted, he hated the kennel), I agreed to go over and dog sit him. And after about 3-4 days he forgave me for being there, and started to be quite friendly. If there's one thing, he certainly did have a licky tongue.

I will dig out a better picture, but for now, here's a pic of Benny. RIP mate.

When Kylie Rode A Real Cowboy

Last week Kevan and I embarked on an epic adventure of a lifetime. One of the top 10 things to do in Australia. Something that deep down, every boy and girl wants to do when they're growing up - and usually play acts. Yes, we've come down to Bingara NSW to learn to be cowboys and... cowgirls. No Indians here! Well, none that we've seen...yet!

We've come here on a Jackaroo Jillaroo experience, which I discovered online after googling "top things to do in Australia". And so far, it has been awesome.

We drove down yesterday from Brisbane to Bingara, which surprisingly took a lot longer than I expected. This though was probably due to one or two things, firstly, the fact that we were using my GPS, which is rubbish, or the fact that we were a bit distracted talking to Mel on the handsfree in Warwick and missed the turn to Goondawindi. Regardless, when it became perfectly clear that we weren't going to be here by dinnertime, we stopped off for a very yummy dinner in Glen Innes at the local pub, and then moseyed on down to Bingara to the Sportsman Hotel, where we spent the night. That in itself was an experience. However we got a good nights sleep and woke up bright eyed and bushy tailed, ready for our horse riding adventure.

At breakfast we met 3 others who would be doing this adventure - Sal, Tom and Katarina. They're very nice. We then met our leader John, who immediately took us to muster the horses - using his ute! I certainly have never seen anyone muster horses with a ute - and John did it with such finesse - here we all were, riding on the back of the ute, bouncing up and down, whilst John waved his jumper out the window and make clicking noises at the horses. And they did what he wanted too - in next to no time we had the horses rounded up, and then had the job of putting them in the yard. Huh? How?

What a sight we must've looked, waving our hands frantically and making 'get up' noises to these horses, who just looked at us with expressions of "what on earth do you think you're doing?" and then just standing there. It was quite comical.

Once we had corralled the horses John then gave us our first lesson on horsemanship - how to bridle the horse - and then we loaded the horses up in his truck for the journey out to the farm, "Garrawilla".

Upon arrival we met some of the others who would been in our group. Turns out there's about 13 or so in our group. The first thing we did was watch John break a horse in. It was really interesting, watching the horse come around from doing his own thing, to doing John's thing. There truly is a real art to it.

This took us up to lunch time after which it was time for some real jackarooing around - the trail ride. John and Cathy picked out the most suitable horses for us, with John matching Kevan and his horse up against their natural abilities - or at least that's what Kev thought, when he found out he was riding Big Willy! I on the other hand was introduced to a real, live, Cowboy - my horse - who was very sweetnatured and broke me in tenderly - and I do mean tenderly, as after a 3 hour or so ride I have discovered aches and pains in parts of my anatomy that I didn't know existed.

It was a wonderful experience, and John and Cathy are very good teachers - no sooner than they got you up on the horse, then they got you walking - and no sooner were you walking and it was 'up, down, up, down' as you learned to trot. We even managed a bit of a canter towards the end of the day.

When we returned to the homestead John asked if anyone wanted to see a sheep being slaughtered. Straightaway the kids were right into it! Kev was kind of keen too, and although I saw one being slaughtered in the markets in Damascus, I thought it could be kind of interesting also, so off we went. It was so sad, we rode off in the ute down to the sheep paddock and they beeped the horn so the sheep would come (the horn beeping is the signal that they have food). But this time we didn't have food - John was looking for a fat but young male lamb - and he selected his prey and loaded it back up on the ute. The poor thing was bleating away and trying to get up but it was no good. We brought him up to the slaughter area (an old camp bed and a bucket) and lickety-split, John slit its throat, broke its neck and the thing was dead. I was alright with that part, but then John started to skin it - and that was me done. Just suddenly came over terribly nauseous and faint, and I was out of there. Kevan stayed til the end though.

Back up at the homestead Cathy was preparing dinner (which smelled yummy!) and the others were sitting around talking. We chatted into the early evening and played cards but everyone was just so tired that it was an early night. Another fabulous day awaits tomorrow....

Christmas Shopping in KL

I had such a fabulous time in Vietnam, I really want to go back. I think that Gap Adventures are one of the best tour companies I have ever booked with - and they're not even a tour company! They were just brilliant, and the people on our tour were lovely.

But even though I had really enjoyed myself in Vietnam, I was really looking forward to the next few days in KL. Just to be on my own again, not having to worry about dealing with anyone else - that's what I was looking forward to. And I still had a load of Christmas shopping to do!

KL is one of Asia's shopping meccas. I would have to say that after Singapore, it would be my favourite Asian place for shopping - the sheer variety and size of the department stores, the cheap price of the Malaysian Ringgit - its just fabulous. And as I had done a bit of sight seeing already last time I was here, and as I still had more presents to get - I was anxious to drop my bags off at the hostel and get cracking!

But getting to the hostel was an interesting experience. I got the train from the airport no worries, and arrived at KL Sentral - and then the fun began. Because whilst the last time I was in KL (only a few weeks earlier) all I had was a backpack and a day bag, now I also had another duffle bag, a suit bag, a new day bag (full to the brim) and my backpack was considerably fuller (and consequently, heavier). I had more bags than hands - so I had a backpack on my back, my day bag on the front, suit bag suspended from the day bag, and I was carrying the duffle. It was quite impressive.

With this rather fetching ensemble I attempted to get a taxi. Not a problem, but I only needed to go a short distance (in fact only 2 stops on the tube) - and they wanted something like 50 ringgit ($15 AUD) for the privilege - paid in advance - as that was the minimum fare or something. So I girded up my loins and braved the tube.

Which was perfectly fine, except that at the end of the journey (it was only 2 stops after all) I had a bit of messing about to do to find the way out - and then quite a walk to the hostel. About 10 minutes or so - but with heavy luggage, it might as well have been 10 hours.

Once I arrived at the hostel I checked into my room - which was a single room, allegedly airconditioned (yes I had splurged the extra few dollars for the privilege) - but in fact was a broom cupboard with a window fan that blew the outside, airconditioned air into the room. Hmm. We'll see about that.

I dumped my bags and headed straight back to my favourite department store - Suria KLCC at the Petronas Towers. Straightaway I was off for a Starbucks and a hunt for Barbie... especially as, being a tourist, I was entitled to a special discount card at select stores.

I particularly liked Suria KLCC because of the beautiful Christmas decorations - don't get me wrong, the other stores had them too, but maybe because of its location, or the fact this was the first department store I found in KL, or I don't know why, but I thought their decorations were the best. And they had live carolling as well. Kind of puts us to shame, that they can have live carolling in a Muslim country, yet us, in our so-called Christian country, won't play them for fear of upsetting the Muslims. Madness.

Anyway, In the end I ended up spending pretty much the two days wandering about this department store and quite a few others, looking for Harry's General Grievous, a barbie for Miss M, gifts for Beck, Mel, Mum... everyone basically. It was really good though - I had a fabulous time. I was most impressed when I happened upon Uniqlo outside one of the department stores! And I had many an enjoyable latte at Starbucks...

Suffice to say that clearly the shopping was good, because my bags were even more bulging when I left. I had now added to the collection a plastic shopping bag full of Barbie house for Miss B - so when I made my way to the airport, I was well and truly overladen. And surprisingly the airline let me get away with it - even though they were the pocksie Air Asia (which can I just add, I would never fly with them again). I guess they were ok, but if you didn't order your meal when you bought your ticket - or even a blanket or a pillow - you just couldn't get one. And at the time I didn't see the point in renting a pillow - not until I discovered that the flight was not full, and I had a whole row to myself - except it was a 2 seat row, and I just could not get comfortable!

The other problem with AirAsia is that they fly in to Coolangatta. Firstly, they lost my bag. Literally. Which was quite annoying as I met a cute guy on the plane and he had offered to drive me to Brisbane - but when my bags got delayed, he just left without me. And the annoying thing was no one from Air Asia would help me find my bag, or would give me any information. In the end I begged a baggage handler to go out back and just double check that the duffle bag, with ALL of my Christmas gifts in it, wasn't out there. Lucky I did - because it was!

Eventually I made it through customs (that takes an eternity also), and then began the very lengthy, and very arduous, task of making my way home via bus and train... which took almost as long as the flight...

High Fivin' Ho Chi Minh and the Taxi Hijackers

On Saturday we decided to go and have a look at the Ho Chi Minh museum. Touted to be 'the preserver of everything memorable related to the great revolutionist, Ho Chi Minh', we couldn't get over how absurd the exhibits were. From sculptures of giant fruit, to a picture of Ho Chi Minh looking like he was about to 'high five' everyone, to a strange golden dragon thing - we just didn't get it. The descriptions of the displays didn't exactly help, either. So it all was rather odd.

After this we made our way to the Ho Chi Minh house. The only problem was in trying to get there. This was because firstly you had to go to one queue to pay - but that queue turned out to be for the Mausoleum. And they kept trying to make us go and put our cameras in lockers in a completely different location (back the way we'd come) - and they didn't seem to understand that we were not interested in going to the Mausoleum at all. So eventually we manged to fluke our way out of it and get to the Ho Chi Minh house - where we literally sprinted past all the rooms because of the queue. You just couldn't stop - people kept pushing you to keep moving. So strange.

After this we decided to try and get a taxi to the so-called Hanoi Hilton, the prison used by the French to imprison and torture Vietnamese political prisoners and then later used by the North Vietnamese to imprison American soldiers during the Vietnam war. But do you think firstly we could find a taxi? That's because we had been warned to only use the green taxis due to the others often ripping you off, or worse, mistreatment of customers - as Sophie was to find out. You see, Sophie had decided she was unwell again or something and so had opted not to come with us to the Ho Chi Minh stuff. We later found out she decided to try to join us and hailed a taxi outside the hotel - but she didn't heed Vaughn's warning about the taxi drivers and she took the first one. She thought she had negotiated for him to use the meter but suddenly in the trip she realised that the meter was not working, so she challenged him on it. He then pronounced some exhorbitant fare for her to pay, which was something like 10 times the price it should have been, and when she announced she wouldn't pay it, citing some negotiated fare she thought they had agreed upon, he locked the doors and started driving her off on a wild goose chase. Understandably she became quite scared and eventually paid up - and he then dumped her wherever they were, which was nowhere she knew - and she didn't have any money. I'm not sure how it was she made her way back but she did eventually - although she was quite shaken. The feeling in the group though was surprisingly not very sympathetic - Vaughn had warned us after all about the various taxi drivers and their unscrupulous methods - so it generally was felt that Sophie brought this on herself because she didn't listen. I think probably that attitude was a little harsh because she really could have come quite unstuck - she was lucky I guess. Just goes to show you though.

Anyway, back to our own adventure. We found a taxi and tried to ask the driver to take us to the 'Hanoi Hilton'. He didn't know what we meant. He thought we wanted to go to the real Hilton. We were almost ready to give up, when I looked up on my phone the place we wanted to go - and discovered it was called 'Hoa Lo'. I started calling out 'Hoa Lo, Hoa Lo' and the driver started talking excitedly in Vietnamese - he got it. So he took us there.

It was quite an interesting place - interesting in the way that Auschwitz or Dachau or Port Arthur is - because it leaves a real bad taste in your mouth as you walk around. You could really feel that sense of cold, oppressive spirit as you walked around. The atrosities that happened there...

Anyway, after this we all sort of separated and spent the rest of the afternoon wandering around Hanoi as we liked. Francois and I headed off in search of ties - I wanted to get one for Kev and Damo - and the others were looking for pirated DVDs. It was a pleasant enough afternoon although I was glad to be back at the hotel, out of the smoggy, motorcycle air.

For our final night we headed off for dinner as a large group, and en route we tried to find a chemist with disinfectant - I had injured my foot in Nha Trang when we were swimming and the pain had not diminished - if anything it was getting worse. We didn't find a chemist, but we did find a fantastic market, and I was able to pick up a cute barbie motorbike for the girls and new screen guard for my phone.

It was a very lovely evening, and it was actually quite sad that the trip had come to an end. The next morning I got a taxi with Vaughn out to the airport and it was off to KL...

Ha Ha Hanoi

Yes, dumbest title on the planet. Sorry. Couldn't think of anything else.

So the day after our wonderful Halong Bay experience (and it really was like the Top Gear Vietnam special), and we were back on the minibus en route to Hanoi. I must admit, I had quite mixed feelings now about this, because it meant that in just 2 days or so the adventure would end, our Gap Adventures Roam Vietnam trip would be over. And I would then be saying goodbye to the group - and I genuinely was sad. For all our quirkness, the 6 of us had actually gotten on quite well, and I can honestly say that I will miss all of them, each in their own special way. And of course Vaughn too.

So we drove into Hanoi and made our way to the hotel. I have to say I think I liked this hotel the least out of the whole trip. I certainly don't remember it very much. The rooms were quite small and although they had all the mod cons, there were quirky little eccentricities about them. Francois' room, I believe, didn't have hot water. Mine had a light that you could only turn off by unscrewing the bulb. Stuff like that.

We no sooner dumped our stuff then we were off on an orienteering type walking tour given by Vaughn. Turns out we were quite a way (walking) from the main sights and so on. He took us into the heart of the sightseeing area and we literally nearly died en route. Firstly, from the smog. No joke, I had a headache within 2 minutes of walking around the streets, and you don't want to know what colour the snot was. Put it this way, even though one time it was black in London, I have never seen a blacker snot in my life. Gross. Secondly, we nearly died from being run over by scooters. If I thought the traffic was bad in Ho Chi Minh, I was sorely mistaken. Hanoi is infinitely worse. And they have absolutely no regard for people - particularly tourists.

So we headed off for this restaurant that Vaughn knew for lunch. On the way we lost Francois once when Erik and Vaughn looked in a market stall and Francois went to buy donuts. The streets were just so crowded, there was nowhere to walk on the footpath (the footpath being full of scooters and street vendors) and so it made it really hard to stay together. Fortunately we caught up with Francois again.

Lunch was very interesting - we were up on the 2nd floor balcony of the restaurant but conversation was near on impossible due to the roaring sound of the motorbikes. Plus, the land of the rising smog meant that the food did taste just a little bit odd. However, our vantage point afforded us a very interesting view of Vietnamese electricals - the wiring was just all over the place! I have never seen so many cables at once on a power pole.

Erik decided to take advantage of trying frog's legs for the first time. Cos that's what you do in Vietnam, isn't it - eat a traditional French dish. Well, I suppose that's what you do when you're sick of pho.

After lunch Vaughn took us to the place to buy tickets to the water puppet show. The Vietnamese have a very intriguing way of queuing for tickets. Basically, the rule is, you don't. Queue, that is. You push in. Blatantly. They'll serve you over any one else if you're the most pushy. Poor old Beate was trying to get our tickets and it was near on impossible.

Fortunately, after a time, she managed to get through and get the tickets, having taken out a couple Vietnamese on the way. I, meanwhile, had been investigating some rather lovely looking copy Kipling bags. I eventually (when we visited the next day) settled on a very nice blue Kipling duffel bag for something like $10. What do I care that it's not real? It's a bag, and I know I'm going to need one to get all my Christmas gifts home (I'll be traveling back through KL and I know I'll pick up that Barbie for Cella, and the General Grievous lightsabre for Dart, so I'll need it!).

So off we went to the water puppets. Firstly, can I say - on what planet is that normal? It was so dodgy! I know it's a good cultural experience and everything, but I will admit, I found it to be deathly dull and boring. For starters, it's all in Vietnamese, so who on earth actually knows what's going on? Seemed totally random to me. Puppets floating about in water, with Chinese instruments banging and some chick warbling away. I didn't get it. And the others weren't overly impressed either. I suppose we should've headed Vaughn's warning when he said that he had never actually sat through the whole thing, usually falling asleep. Oh well...

So we made our way back, firstly I went with Sophie and Shanty and checked out copied DVDs (no wait, that was before the water puppets) - sorry, I went with Francois to try and find a tie for Kevan and Damo. I realized pretty quick I should've bought it in Hoi An when I had the chance. Despite the tourist books saying that Hanoi was a good place for tailors, we couldn't find any where we were! Most discouraging. We eventually found a shop but the woman there was so rude. She showed me a bunch of very unappealing ties, and then, when I had turned ever so slightly to inspect them a little more (aka look at them), she whacked me on my bag (which was hanging on my back) and demanded to know which one I was buying. What!? I actually confronted her and said, "Did you just hit my bag?". She tried to deflect the conversation and harp on about which one I wanted, but I said "No, you hit me on my bag, and that's unacceptable". So we left.

Turns out that's quite normal in Hanoi. They're very untrusting of tourists. The next day I happened to be walking around a market with Beate and Erik, and a woman tried to fair whack my hand because I touched one of her towels. Seriously! I touched it (just to look at) and she drew her hand back sharply and tried to strike me! Now what does that say about much they want (or clearly don't want) the tourist dollar, hm?

I don't remember much about the dinner (other than it was probably yet again, pho, and it was actually quite expensive) - on account of I'm writing this 3 months later - but I seem to recall it was nice. Back to the hotel for a good sleep before our last day.

A snippet of the water puppets...

Sitting On The Dock Of The Bay

When I left off, we had just arrived in Hanoi. Apologies for the delay in the update, but I have been a tad busy lately.... but now, on with the show...

The first problem when we arrived at the crack of dawn o'clock in Hanoi was that our bus driver wasn't there. The second problem was that it was absolutely freezing. I put on everything I had that would provide any form of warmth, and still was cold. I don't know how Sophie coped though - she had on the shortest of shorts and a singlet top. Ridiculous! Anyway, seeing as we had nowhere to go, we sat down outside the station to wait. Even at that silly time of the morning there was a 'cafe' of sorts open - and we ordered a coffee. Mine was the most disgusting thing I have ever had. Just awful.

While we were waiting I decided to take advantage of the toilet. Oh my goodness, I have never seen anything more ridiculous in my life. Firstly, as I walked in (and bear in mind, they made me pay money to use this loo), the stench literally picked me up and carried me off. The second thing that struck me was the urinal - for that is what it was - a trough along the wall with two brick slats either side (obviously for your feet). There would have been about 4 or 5 of these. So essentially, the idea is that you drop your dacks and squat over this trough, in full view of everyone else (there's no door separating each one) - but not only that, its in complete full view of the doorway to the whole set up. So people walking past the loos on the railway concourse can see! How ridiculous is that? There is only one 'western' toilet, with a door - and that's what I was paying for the privilege of using, I guess. But it certainly was all just a bit too much.

When I returned to the group, the driver had arrived, so we headed off to the minibus. I tried to vie for a good position in the bus, which was quite squishy - but as the group had forgotten I was in the toilet, I was at the back of the line, and thus last in the bus. This meant that all the window seats were taken. I was stuck squished next to Shanty and Sophie, and with nothing to lean on, having had no sleep, and an hour and a half (or so) drive. I tried to sleep regardless, but blessed Sophie decided to listen to her iPod, at the level she usually listens to it - which meant that it was on full bore and I could hear everything. It was most annoying.

You can then imagine that by the time we arrived in Halong Bay I really was not in a very good mood. So it didn't help that our rooms were not available yet. We were able though to go have breakfast, which was a beautiful smorgasbord, and seeing as it was so terribly cold, I had to have the hottest things I could find. Alas I spilled my coffee!

Fortunately by the time we finished, the rooms were ready - and they really were worth the wait. The hotel was the Halong Bay Hotel, and it was directly opposite the bay, some 100m or so from the water's edge - and the view was just stunning. I took it all in for a bit, but really was more than just a bit irritable at this stage, so I decided to try to take a nap before our boat trip on the bay.

We left at about 12pm or something for our boat trip. Again I rugged up as much as I could - and was still cold - but Sophie comes down in barely anything! When we asked her about it, she said that she had gotten rid of all her winter clothes from her Kilimanjaro trek, and had no winter clothes with her. Come on? Not even a jumper? Fortunately Erik had a spare he could lend her.

The bus took us to the boat on the bay and we had a lovely cruise around the islands. The bay spans an area of around 1553 square kilometres and includes about 1,960 islets, most of which are limestone. It is just simply breathtaking. We were on a cute little junket that provided us with a gorgeous seafood lunch (Sophie however doesn't eat seafood and forgot to mention that when Vaughn asked for our dietary needs!) - just scrummy. And better still, we had the whole run of the boat ourselves. We visited firstly a fishing village, which was very interesting - it was essentially a large floating wooden jetty with lots of compartments cut into it where the fish were. You really had to watch your footing so you didn't fall in!

Our next stop was to the Thien Cung Grotto, which is a really large cave of stalagmites and stalactites, lit very beautifully (and probably to the detriment of the stalagmites etc), which has been forming for 700 000 to about 11 000 years. It was really beautiful, and I felt quite moved to let rip with a pretty impressive coo-ee (if I do say so myself), much to the amusement of the many Korean and Japanese tourists there.

Upon our return to the hotel, Francois, Shanty and I decided to do a bit of exploring of the town. We firstly made our way to the beach, where we were fortunate to see the sun set (our first really of this trip), and Francois encountered another French speaking person, so he enjoyed chatting away in French to him. We also came across a barbers, and Francois hada shave. But we didn't really see anything suitable for the evening meal (that didn't cost a fortune - although this is a good, cheap place for seafood - the price in comparison to that which we had been paying relatively for our evening meals was far above our budget, and we knew that especially Shanty and Sophie wouldn't be able to afford it). We did however happen across a night market setting up, and we had a bit of a browse around it. Every time we approached a stall the owners would get really excited and shove a load of tat under our noses. It wasn't really designed as a tourist market so I don't know why they thought we would want to buy these things.

Returning to the hotel, it was decided we'd eat there instead, which was quite nice (except that they ran out of the thing I wanted to order, so that I had to choose pho again or something). Then Beate and Erik wanted to have an explore, so Francois and I headed out with them again too.

All in all it had been a very enjoyable day - but I was oh so tired, and oh so ready for bed in my oh so lovely room!