First Days
Introduction
I'd been thinking it might be a good idea to try to flex my writing muscles again as they've grown weak in recent years so here we are. I might write some stories too but starting with a bit of stream of consciousness (God I'll never spell that without a spellcheck) will probably help me get things started.
I'm not sure who in their right fucking mind will want to read this but I'm also not sure that's the point really. Yet Another Fucking Travel Blog from Some Prick jammy enough to swan off to Asia when most of the planet's in turmoil is hardly appealing is it? My good friend Kev suggested a journal's a good idea and I'm pretty much a Nathan Barley cunt so I'm obviously gonna take that as "write a blog".
Anyways, it's a fucking fantastic time to be leaving the UK right now with Brexit actually quite possibly about to properly happen, though we seem to have been saying that for the last decade.
Days one to three, or something along those lines
In typical me style I managed to not be quite ready to set off when I went to get the coach. I'd packed incredibly proficiently, if I do say so myself, however I hadn't finished sorting out some other bits of life admin prep that needed sorting in time for me to get my bus. Thankfully the Megabus is cheap and I didn't lose out on much by getting the next one.
Megabus journey to London to stay at Kev's in Watford was a pure hip hop vibe if I remember correctly. I've been trying to get into all the shit I never really got round to properly getting into that I know I should know., cue: asking Ben Wall for phat old hip hop playlists and mixtapes.
http://brooklynradio.com/history-of-hip-hop/ (93-96 mixes)
90's hip hop boom bap
ODB - Osirius
Watford to Heathrow went without any hiccups after a practically sleepless night full of anxiety about not waking up in time. The bus goes straight from the end of Kev's street which is a fucking Godsend.
I had plenty of time to have a fag, get through security and sit down for a beer and breakfast in Yo! Sushi. I was talking to my mum and she was recommending setting your clock for the timezone you're travelling to to combat jet lag which is a great idea until you realise your alarm for your gate opening is set in your old time zone.
Got on the plane and proceeded to not really speak to the two people next to me for the entire journey and instead watch the entire harrowing Chernobyl HBO mini series. Fucking excellent show but definitely not one to get you in a good mood for your holibos. It is gooooood though. I was not expecting the Fall of Stalin-style English actors thing though. Shocker.
I dipped in and out of podcasts and Lonely Planet but ended up not being able to commit to much. I think I was already feeling stupid by not having slept so much so ended up watching John Wick, which I'd never seen. I'm sure I don't have to tell you how dreadful but watchable that was. I think I slept for about half an hour of the flight, I'd wanted a lot more.
Singapore airport is a beauty and I'm gutted I only got to spend a couple of panicked hours there. I caught the skytrain to the terminal I needed to be at and it passed through a fucking forest. I knew I only had a small amount of time at the airport but wanted to see if I could squeeze in a bit of exploration. NOPE. Took my boarding pass to the airline's desk and they informed my mine was too shiny. Fine, they can print another and, more importantly, Vietnam probably weren't going to let me in due to the fact I hadn't booked a flight home and I had half an hour to book a flight back.
I hadn't actually made my mind up as to when I was going to come home and I hadn't used my new credit card yet, and I was in fucking Singapore so God knows if my using my new card was going to trigger alarm bells at Barclaycard. Thankfully I was able to quickly book a flight in time and I paid an extra 30 quid to make it flexible, which I'm hoping means I can change the date if I want to make it back for PRSPCT/Tiki etc. at the Black Swan. I've booked the flight for the day before the last day of my three month multi-entry Visa, which I'm pretty sure is a fucking terrible idea as any delay could cause me to be stuck in Vietnam without a Visa; but by the time I'd realised this it was too late to change it as I needed to run back to the desk. I was visibly shaking at this point as I was super nervous I wouldn't make it onto the next plane. Not a good look in an airport.
Once again the time zone thing fucked me a bit as I'd set my phone clock to Vietnam which is an hour earlier than Singapore. Good job I looked at a clock in the airport.
The next flight was too squished and I was a bit grumpy by this point but I managed to resume where I was up to for the final ridiculous 20 minutes of John Wick. I considered watching Detective Pikachu but instead opted for something else equally inconsequential, in fact so much so I can't even remember what it was. A couple of episodes of Brooklyn 99 did me well after that.
Arriving in Vietnam airport was such a tremendous feeling: finally I was there, I could feel the humidity and the planes hadn't crashed. Only thing left was getting through the Visa check point. Easy.
Not so.
The checkpoint was a confusing mess that reminded me somewhat of the kind of OTT admin I'd seen in Armando Iannucci's The Death of Stalin. The staff were not helpful and quite terrifying and nobody knew what was going on. I gave my passport to a uniformed dude behind a counter who pointed in the general direction of behind me, which I worked out meant sit down and wait for my name and face to appear on a screen.
Eventually, after chatting to an Aussie girl who was as confused as me, my name was called and I went through at the same time. Woop! She also got through and we shared a cab with her niece to Hanoi centre about 30-40 minutes away.
I eventually arrived at my apartment, which was much less of what I consider a homestay than I'd previously thought, but lovely nonetheless. I was just South of Tay Ho, which it turns out is where all the white people are whom I refuse to call expats because I hate that word.
The view from the "social" area of my homestay, which I never saw anybody in
Tay Ho is home to Birdcage, Sala, Sidewalk and the newly-opened Dark Knight. These clubs are where all the white English teachers go to get ruined.
I spent some time wandering around and checking out the local street food etc. I tried a coconut coffee from the Cong Ca Phe nextdoor to my gaff and some damn fine spring rolls from the vegan place right underneath.
Veg spring rolls with noodles, yummy chilli dip stuff and leaves with a glass of lime juice from Com Pho Chay Tu Bi, Hanoi, Vietnam.
Iced coconut coffee from Cong Ca Phe
Having been to India before (sorry, I know that makes me sound like a tosser) I have encountered the seemingly chaotic and uncoordinated driving before so the shock was slightly lessened but it's still a bit of a jolt to the system when you're used to relatively polite British driving. Nobody sticks to a lane here and the red lights are apparently advisory. Scooters outnumber other vehicles at about 95/1 and nobody sticks to a particular lane. You even see people going the wrong way down the street like it ain't no thang.
I managed to stay up until just after midnight in a bid to combat jetlag. Amazing, it worked and when I woke up at 8:30 the next day it actually felt like the morning.
http://brooklynradio.com/history-of-hip-hop/ (93-96 mixes)
90's hip hop boom bap
ODB - Osirius
Watford to Heathrow went without any hiccups after a practically sleepless night full of anxiety about not waking up in time. The bus goes straight from the end of Kev's street which is a fucking Godsend.
I had plenty of time to have a fag, get through security and sit down for a beer and breakfast in Yo! Sushi. I was talking to my mum and she was recommending setting your clock for the timezone you're travelling to to combat jet lag which is a great idea until you realise your alarm for your gate opening is set in your old time zone.
Got on the plane and proceeded to not really speak to the two people next to me for the entire journey and instead watch the entire harrowing Chernobyl HBO mini series. Fucking excellent show but definitely not one to get you in a good mood for your holibos. It is gooooood though. I was not expecting the Fall of Stalin-style English actors thing though. Shocker.
I dipped in and out of podcasts and Lonely Planet but ended up not being able to commit to much. I think I was already feeling stupid by not having slept so much so ended up watching John Wick, which I'd never seen. I'm sure I don't have to tell you how dreadful but watchable that was. I think I slept for about half an hour of the flight, I'd wanted a lot more.
Singapore airport is a beauty and I'm gutted I only got to spend a couple of panicked hours there. I caught the skytrain to the terminal I needed to be at and it passed through a fucking forest. I knew I only had a small amount of time at the airport but wanted to see if I could squeeze in a bit of exploration. NOPE. Took my boarding pass to the airline's desk and they informed my mine was too shiny. Fine, they can print another and, more importantly, Vietnam probably weren't going to let me in due to the fact I hadn't booked a flight home and I had half an hour to book a flight back.
I hadn't actually made my mind up as to when I was going to come home and I hadn't used my new credit card yet, and I was in fucking Singapore so God knows if my using my new card was going to trigger alarm bells at Barclaycard. Thankfully I was able to quickly book a flight in time and I paid an extra 30 quid to make it flexible, which I'm hoping means I can change the date if I want to make it back for PRSPCT/Tiki etc. at the Black Swan. I've booked the flight for the day before the last day of my three month multi-entry Visa, which I'm pretty sure is a fucking terrible idea as any delay could cause me to be stuck in Vietnam without a Visa; but by the time I'd realised this it was too late to change it as I needed to run back to the desk. I was visibly shaking at this point as I was super nervous I wouldn't make it onto the next plane. Not a good look in an airport.
Once again the time zone thing fucked me a bit as I'd set my phone clock to Vietnam which is an hour earlier than Singapore. Good job I looked at a clock in the airport.
The next flight was too squished and I was a bit grumpy by this point but I managed to resume where I was up to for the final ridiculous 20 minutes of John Wick. I considered watching Detective Pikachu but instead opted for something else equally inconsequential, in fact so much so I can't even remember what it was. A couple of episodes of Brooklyn 99 did me well after that.
Arriving in Vietnam airport was such a tremendous feeling: finally I was there, I could feel the humidity and the planes hadn't crashed. Only thing left was getting through the Visa check point. Easy.
Not so.
The checkpoint was a confusing mess that reminded me somewhat of the kind of OTT admin I'd seen in Armando Iannucci's The Death of Stalin. The staff were not helpful and quite terrifying and nobody knew what was going on. I gave my passport to a uniformed dude behind a counter who pointed in the general direction of behind me, which I worked out meant sit down and wait for my name and face to appear on a screen.
Eventually, after chatting to an Aussie girl who was as confused as me, my name was called and I went through at the same time. Woop! She also got through and we shared a cab with her niece to Hanoi centre about 30-40 minutes away.
I eventually arrived at my apartment, which was much less of what I consider a homestay than I'd previously thought, but lovely nonetheless. I was just South of Tay Ho, which it turns out is where all the white people are whom I refuse to call expats because I hate that word.
The view from the "social" area of my homestay, which I never saw anybody in
Tay Ho is home to Birdcage, Sala, Sidewalk and the newly-opened Dark Knight. These clubs are where all the white English teachers go to get ruined.
I spent some time wandering around and checking out the local street food etc. I tried a coconut coffee from the Cong Ca Phe nextdoor to my gaff and some damn fine spring rolls from the vegan place right underneath.
Veg spring rolls with noodles, yummy chilli dip stuff and leaves with a glass of lime juice from Com Pho Chay Tu Bi, Hanoi, Vietnam.
Iced coconut coffee from Cong Ca Phe
Having been to India before (sorry, I know that makes me sound like a tosser) I have encountered the seemingly chaotic and uncoordinated driving before so the shock was slightly lessened but it's still a bit of a jolt to the system when you're used to relatively polite British driving. Nobody sticks to a lane here and the red lights are apparently advisory. Scooters outnumber other vehicles at about 95/1 and nobody sticks to a particular lane. You even see people going the wrong way down the street like it ain't no thang.
I managed to stay up until just after midnight in a bid to combat jetlag. Amazing, it worked and when I woke up at 8:30 the next day it actually felt like the morning.
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