Donsol Sabang El Nido
Getting ourselves to the Philippines turned out to be a bit of a struggle. But boy was it worth it.
After the catastrophic realisation that we’d missed our original Hanoi to Manila flight, we flapped about rebooking flights, cancelling hotels, internal flights etc. Dealing with the knock on effect of our little scheduling error meant one more night in Hanoi, I told you that city wouldn’t let us leave, and about £600 in rebooked flights and cancellation fees.
Our plans for Hoi An being thwarted by floods, meant the we took a hop flight from Saigon to Danang, and then onto Hanoi. One night in Danang proved it to be a great little city which if it wasn’t for the flooding, we would have otherwise missed out. Divided by the Han river, it boasts the famous 7 bridges including Dragon Bridge, and the unusual Han Bridge ☑ which is the first Swing Bridge built in Vietnam, instead of opening like Tower Bridge, it pivots from the centre to allow boats to pass either side.
Water water everywhere…
If there is a God, and there clearly isn’t, you’d have thought he would have done a better job with the water distribution across the planet. He’s really cocked that one up. While other countries are starving & in drought, this one has more than it needs and most of it is unusable, you really don’t want to drink this stuff.
Yes I went there with the alliteration.
We’re waiting for our flight from Phu Quoc ☑ to Can Tho ☑in the Mekong Delta, eating Burger King. My justification for breaking the rules of only eating local food while we’re away, is that I never eat Burger King in London. Therefore I am technically eating local food as they have carelessly placed a Burger King in Phu Quoc airport. It’s not my fault.
Writing this on the 3hr ferry trip from Ha Tien on the Cambodia/Vietnam border, to Phu Quoc island. We crossed the border in a rather haphazard fashion of a series of buses, dodgy security checks, zero concern for our visa status, and racing for a ferry that left 15 minutes before we arrived at the port.
With the next ferry leaving in 3hrs, not much else to do but hook up with a gnarly old Kiwi pearl fisher and an Aussie electrician with a year off, and drink the travel company’s fridge dry of beer.
I’m writing this while sitting by the pool in Siem Reap Cambodia, where it’s pelting rain and sunshine simultaneously in equal measure! Px & I have performed like true Brits by playing water volley ball in the torrential rain.
It was good to get back into a city again after rural Bagan, and our bus driver wasted no time getting us to Mandalay almost an hour earlier than scheduled. A hairy 6hr journey of horns and over taking on bum numbing seats, whilst enduring clinically life threatening hangovers, meant it wasn’t the most enjoyable trip we’ve ever taken.
The overnight coach from Yangon brought us into Bagan around 6am. By the 10th hour the coach air-con had reached Baltic levels, and we were both quaking under our over perfumed complimentary travel blankets.