Photography
-
Hot Days & Warm Hearts: A Week In Hoi An
The advice we’ve been given is that, when it comes to visiting the My Son Sanctuary, we have two choices: go in the morning when the coach parties are doing the rounds and visitor numbers are high, or risk coping with the intense heat of the afternoon when we’ll more or less have the place to ourselves. Seeing as we are one half of the “mad dogs and Englishmen” couplet we opt, of course, for the quieter, hotter alternative. As it happens, temperatures have raced up the scale since we’ve been in Hoi An and at the same time someone has adjusted the humidity setting so that T-shirts last about…
-
To Hoi An: The Land Of Lanterns
And so we head to Hoi An, a place about which we have heard so many good things that this will be our longest stay in one place whilst in Vietnam, a full six days. Our original intention was to go by train from Hue to Da Nang and then taxi to Hoi An, but we got chatting to a guy in a cafe on the first morning in Hue who told us he can book a bus which will take us door to door for half the price of the taxi alone. Bargain. Bargain? Well, yes, but boy does the journey bring surprises. Sure enough, we get picked up…
-
Tam Coc to Hue: Inside The Imperial City
The climb to the dual peaks of Hang Mua is a hefty ascent of over 500 steps which are so irregular and uneven that coming back down is almost as tricky as going up, but the magnificent views from the top make every bit of the effort worthwhile. Sweeping panoramas across the lush green paddy fields, towering karst limestone hulks and twisting rivers lead the eye eventually to the urban sprawl of Ninh Binh city. These views hammer home just how much water there is here: villages are islands and roads are causeways. At Hang Mua, gardens have been laid at the foot of the hills and a few cafes…
-
Halong Bay-Hanoi-Tam Coc: Towards Stunning Scenery
The look and sound of a wet road and the repetitive whine of windscreen wipers are inextricably linked to my memories of childhood Saturdays, and as we make our way back to Hanoi from Halong Bay in the “limousine bus” this particular Saturday is doing its best to trigger those memories. We knew to expect inclement weather during this spell, it’s that time of year here in the north. No visit to Hanoi is complete without a trip to Train Street, so, given that we are passing back through the city at a weekend when there are more trains scheduled than at other times, we play the game of grabbing…
-
Halong Bay
Sunshine greets us in Halong Bay and even that one simple fact is different from the miserable days when we bowled up here before, with the world starting to close borders and the grip of a pandemic stretching its dirty fingers everywhere. Back then, this entire place was a ghost town, just us two and a handful of others about to start the mad dash home. It was a hazy grey that day with a mist hugging the silent sea and all the tour boats waiting forlornly at anchor. Vietnam was already shutting down and tourist spots like Halong (or Ha Long) Bay had been among the first to have…
-
Hanoi Revisited: Early Days In Vietnam
It’s funny how things even up in the end. After the tortuous India-Nepal border crossing, entering Vietnam is a dream. Our 4-and-a-bit hour flight from Delhi leaves before midnight and lands 5am local time, and at Hanoi we hit an empty airport, a passport check that takes thirty seconds, and a computer system which knows we already have our visas sorted. A matter of minutes later, we’ve bought and activated a Viettel SIM card, grabbed 3 million dong from the ATM (no really) and are on our way into the city. “Massage massage” call various tiny ladies on even tinier plastic stools outside each of the parlours in the tight…
-
The Chaos And Joys Of Delhi
It feels good to get the backpacks unpacked as we settle back into Delhi – the first time we’ve been able to unpack in the ten days since we left England. Coupled with the sense of freedom now that we are once again independent after the confines of the Buddha Train experience, it feels positively liberating to wander out into the lively streets around Connaught Place. Gulping a first beer in eight days feels pretty good too. Even if it is Kingfisher. After majoring in Buddhism, touching on Hinduism at the Aarti in Varanasi and Islam at the Taj Mahal, our first port of call back in Delhi is the…
-
Completing The Buddha Circuit: Balrampur-Sravasti-Taj Mahal
We awake on Day 7 of this 8-day tour with our train silent and stationary at Balrampur station, the sky grey outside and the early morning cup of chai clanking its way down the corridor. Amongst the Punctual group we have bets on how much we’ll miss the 6.30am departure time by: Lovely Malaysian Lady wins with a punt at 7:05 which proves to be out by just one minute. Thirty four minutes late. Here we go again. Of course we have some very decent people with us on this train as well as those who have surprised us with their behaviour: Malaysian Lady and Pretty Girl are just two…
-
Birth, Death & Border Horrors: In And Out Of Nepal
The wheels of the Buddha train are still rolling as we finish breakfast and wander back to our compartment: evidently there has been some sort of delay overnight and we finally trundle into Nautanwa station about two hours behind schedule. Nautanwa is the end of India’s railway line, the border with Nepal just a few miles away. In spite of the extra two hours to prepare, and in spite of strict instructions to disembark quickly, about ten of the Dawdlers are late, and finally – finally, after 30 minutes waiting on the coach – Little Miss Selfie, the most incorrigible of the Dawdle group, bowls up as if it’s all…
-
Absent Karma On The Buddha Train
The culture shock of India is nowhere near as powerful second time around, it’s that first time in the country which really knocks you sideways and shifts your understanding of what constitutes normality. This being our second time, we knew what to expect. Indian cities are cacophonously noisy, an endlessly discordant soundtrack of car horns, motor bikes, revving engines and raised voices. While the ears get battered, the assault on the eyes comes from the constant chaos and manic overcrowding, but the sense of smell suffers at least as much as any other part, so much so that just inhaling is an occupation fraught with danger. Never mind the putrid…
