hanoi, take #2

Wow, it's been a while since writing about my travels. When I came back from Europe I rushed back into life back in Melbourne. Alas, I haven't made time even to review the photos from the last two weeks of September. My resolution today is to get around to it - I'm it would only take an hour or so each night... I hope!

Blasting into the new year, I haven't had a lack of further travels either. Early in January I visited the Philippines, later in February found me in South Korea. The projects I was working on kept me quite busy, so much so that I only have one day for tourism in each place. The number of photos for these places is quite limited, and so I've already posted those in the usual location on Picasa.

So why now the resumption in writing? Well I'm back on the road again, this time Vietnam. My second visit to Hanoi. This blog started when I made my first trip to Hanoi. Back then I was on my first trip and was learning from a more experienced engineer. This time I am teaching a new engineer, on her first trip for our employer.

Hanoi was just as I'd left it. Motorbikes everywhere, horns honking at every turn. The only way to cross the road was to simply walk out and hope for the best. The food was cheap and tasty. My recommendations include Cha Ca (fried fish), which can be found on Cha Ca street; any Pho Bo (noodles with beef) on any street; and a meal at Highway 4, which is Vietnamese food done a little fancier than normal.

On the first weekend in town we visited some sights around Hanoi that I had not visited last time. First stop was the Hồ Chí Minh museum, which was interesting enough, but could have been a hell of a lot more interesting if I could read French. The museum had many articles from French newspapers and reports from French secret police in Indochina. Certainly Hồ Chí Minh was known to the French authorities for many years before the declaration of Vietnamese independence.

The museum was a product of the Vietnamese communist party, and hence there was pleanty of propaganda. The "revolutionary forces" are a force for good and equality, etc. and the "French colonists" were evil and repressive. The "revolutionary forces" are a force for world peace, if only the world could agree with them. My colleague grew up in post-revolution Iran and said that pretty much all the all the messages in the propaganda are exactly the same in her country too.

We wandered out towards Hồ Chí Minh's mausoleum to see how the old man was keeping. Unfortunately he'd shut-up shop for maintenance. Two neatly dressed guards made sure no-one even had a peek.

In the same area the presidential palace rises in a mass of French colonial architecture and European style gardens. Machine gun carrying guards whistled at us, and told us there were to be no photos taken of the palace. This prompted more snide remarks about equality & revolutions from my colleague :)

After a brief stop for lunch, beer, and haggling over the price of a photocopied lonely planet guide, we had a look at probably the most famous part of Hanoi. The bridge to Ngoc Son Temple. Later I was told by a local, that distances from Hanoi to other destinations in Vietnam are measured from this island. It's referred to as the "heart of Vietnam".

One last destination for the day: Hỏa Lò prison. Otherwise known as the Hanoi Hilton by American POW's. Disappointingly, again it was an exercise in propaganda. How evil the French were and how badly they treated the Vietnamese. How graciously the revolutionary fighters are, and well they had treated the Americans. It was all a bit far fetched.

As it was 35°C, and felt like it was over 100% humidity - we called it a day here, and headed back for some well deserved showers.

summer parties

It's sad to say it, but it is noticeable... the days are getting shorter here in Göteborg. I was told that you can really notice the difference in the length of the days in Scandinavia. Actually, that statement is only half true. I didn't really notice at all when the days were getting longer. Going the other way, however, it's a whole new kettle of fish. When days get shorter, it is very, very noticeable.

And for those readers who have no idea what a whole new kettle of fish is. It's an Australian expression meaning it's a different scenario. Where does it come from? I don't know, and don't care. Just accept and continue.

Now what can I do you for? (another Aussie expression). Oh yes, with the ending of summer, it's time for a couple of parties. First up I organised an "Aussie" party at my apartment. What makes a party Aussie? Buggered if I know. Usually it's just a lot of booze and loud music.

What would you do to make a party seem like an Aussie party to mixed group of Europeans? This is what I came up with:

1. The host (i.e. me) wears a wife beater, shorts and thongs.
2. Have vegemite on hand for the guests to enjoy.
3. Play AC/DC and Midnight Oil albums all night long.
4. Have footy (proper footy :) on TV.
5. Have a footy on hand to demonstrate with.
6. Provide a fridge full of beer (especially VB).
7. Serve fairy bread.
8. Have a few stubbie holders, including a novelty bikini girl stubbie holder.
9. Serve ANZAC biscuits.
10. Have the party go on long enough and loud enough for it to be shutdown by the "authorities".

Note: in Sweden, the police don't call a close to parties. Rather the building management hirers leather clad, pierced, biker types to tell you to shut up shop. Sweden's not always as pleasant as it seems. No worries, we moved to a club down the street for more good times.

The Aussie party weekend, I also had a mate from uni over at my place, Graham. He's also working in Sweden for a couple of months - but over in Karlskrona, a smallish town on the other side of the country.

We spent the weekend with some Spanish colleagues and their mates who were visiting from Madrid. From canoeing on the lake, to playing frisbee golf, it was an outdoors weekend for the rest of the time.

Frisbee golf is fun... walking around a forest, throwing frisbees... and possibly, also, drinking beer.

Okay, that was the Aussie weekend. A couple of weekends later, it was time for a Swedish weekend.

At some stage in Sweden's history, it was against the law to catch crayfish over summer. At the end of summer, the ban would be lifted, and then the crayfish population would suffer the brunt of a pent up demand for tasty crays. It's not the law any more, but the tradition of an end of summer crayfish party lives on.

Olly, a mate from work, kindly offered to take me down to Skåne, where a mate of his has a farm in the small town of Sjöbo. Perfect for a loud and crazy crayfish party.

These things typically kick off mid-afternoon with some silly games. Split into teams of 6, this allowed everyone to mingle. Competitions included: a dash to the back of the paddock and back - chained to a partner; nailing nails into a plank of wood in the least number of strokes; throwing a hefty lump of metal as far as possible; popping balloons tied to ankles; and drinking some truly awful homebrewed liquor.

Formalities out of the way, it was time for dinner. Crayfish eating isn't for the squeamish.

Step 1: break tail from head.
Step 2: lift up shell, eat brain.
Optional step: celebrate if you were lucky enough to get a pregnant cray with "caviar".
Step 3: crack tail shell, dig out meat, eat.
Step 4: Repeat.

All along the way, keep the liquor flowing. The aquavit limbers up the vocal chords for some Swedish drinking songs. The host, Mikael, needs to be praised for his foresight. He provided song sheets for those who don't know Swedish drinking songs; or who may have forgotten the words due to aquavit consumption... or both.

Of course this all lays the foundations for a decent party lasting well into the evening. Could this be a tradition that I could import into Australia? I hope so!

stockholm revisited

On her last weekend in Sweden, I took Belle to glamorous Stockholm. It was a scorcher of a weekend. No rain in sight - and this time, we were wondering where the air conditioners were.

We caught the high-speed train service across to Stockholm. It was equally as fast as flying and probably a little cheaper. Best of all, however, it put us right in the heart of Stockholm when we arrived. I'm tempted to try out the high-speed train to Ballarat when I get back home to see if the Victorian services are as good as the Swedish ones.

Since I'd been to Stockholm before, this trip involved a mixture of what I thought the best sights were when I visited last time, plus some I missed out on, plus some Belle thought sounded good.

First up was a visit to Gamla Stan - the old town of Stockholm. Stockholm used to fit all on one island, and this is where Galma Stan is. It's a nice walk down from the CBD to the island. Everything quickly transforms from modern city to cobble stone streets and wonky old buildings. We made a quick visit to the palace. Note to potential jewel thieves: the British have way more crown jewels than the Swedes. After, we made a more extensive visit to the Nobel Prize museum around the corner.

It was perfect weather for walking out in the sunshine. This put grabbing some ice cream and having a laid back afternoon firmly on the agenda.

The sunshine, lasting well into the evening, ensured that Saturday was perfect for heading out in trending Östermalm. After some mighty fine Lebanese cuisine, we headed to a great cocktail bar. It stocked Tanqueray Ten gin, so I was a big fan. (My wallet may have whimpered in pain, but I duly ignored it ;)

Stockholm is deserted on Sunday mornings. And surprisingly, brunch is a bit difficult to find. Pushing on, we headed to the next item on our list: the History Museum. I was quite surprised at how interesting it was. The prehistoric display was well set up, with sounds, video, stories, and exhibits of bones, clothing, etc.

The museum was setup so that it posed questions back at the visitors instead of dictating the museums' point of view. As an example, there was a cloak that dated back thousands of years. It was found in a bog, with similarly aged knife. This cloak had knife holes in it. Of course no one knows the true story of the cloak and the knife - so the museum presents some plausible situations and throws it back to you to imagine. Was it the cloak of a murdered victim? Where's the body then? Maybe it's the cloak of someone who was in a fight - they had been stabbed, but ultimately won. Why throw away the cloak then? To hide the evidence from a worried girlfriend? Who really knows?

Sunday was also a great day to be outdoors. We ate lunch next to the water and watched the yachts pass us by. We paid a quick visit to Vasa museum, which didn't seem as good as I remembered it, and then we headed back to the hotel for our bathers.

We were on a mission to find a beach (or at least I was!). However, with hindsight I can give this warning: do not attempt to find a beach in Stockholm. Yes, it's on the water. No, there's no where good to swim. Probably if we had a boat and headed out to the archipelago there might have been better beaches. But near the city - and for a city on the water it's surprising - no good beaches. We went to one, and had our swim, but it was pretty crap.

The sun set on our weekend in Stockholm, and alas, Monday morning came around too soon. It was time for Belle to head back home. We said our sad goodbyes at central station and that's that for another 60 days.

soaking in oslo

Summer time is a time for most Scandinavians to take a vacation. Most... but not all. Construction workers kick into overdrive over summer, building new roads, tram tracks, and unfortunately for us, performing train track maintenance on the route from Göteborg to Oslo. After an increasingly confused 10 to 15 minutes at Göteborg Central. Wondering where in the hell train platform 54 is? We was decided that perhaps "buss" actually did mean a bus, despite our train tickets definitely saying "tåg" (train).

No problem, replacement coaches were taking us to somewhere in the country where the train would meet us. Belle and I were off to Oslo for the weekend!

We arrived in Oslo around lunch time. After checking in, we went to the restaurant next door which advertised traditional Norwegian cuisine. Whale was on the menu... and I ate it. A tough meat, I think it's kind of like kangaroo (if kangaroo was tough, which it's not), but doesn't taste as good.

After lunch we headed out to explore Oslo. It's a compact city, which makes it perfect for tourism on foot. The main street, Karl Johans gate was packed full of people and street performers. I was reminded again how much Scandinavians celebrate summer compared to Australians. Then again, Australians never have to suffer through Scandinavian winters. It does make the cities have a great vibe in summer.

We were able to check out Central Oslo's main sights in one afternoon. The old castle / fortress, Akershus Festning, provided a good vantage point to look over the city and the harbour. We also were able to get a crash course in Norwegian history.

Wandering back down the hill we visited the Nobel Peace Prize museum. It currently has a thought provoking exhibition about slums. It was a multimedia display where you could "walk into" various slum houses. These houses were projected onto blank walls. Audio recordings would play and the inhabitants would tell their stories.

It was quite interesting; some who were interviewed had always lived in the slum area, and enjoyed life there. These people were usually disappointed that their slums were always slated for demolition. Others were educated people who couldn't get jobs. They were justifiably annoyed at the prejudice against them just for where they live; it makes it harder to get a job.

In Jakarta, entire families live under bridges and have to be careful not to fall into the rivers below. These families tell their cousins in the country: don't visit me, my house is small and very far away. I'll visit you.

It was also interesting because these people don't have any property rights. While the slum areas aren't a good way for people to live, at the same time, when governments are encouraged to do something about it, it usually means ignoring the people inside the slum areas. The lack of property rights, leads to a lack of any opportunity to claim compensation for the dislocation they will endure.

The slums outside Mumbai have a gross economic output at around $1 billion a year - including an impressive plastic recycling industry. Yes, of course, it has significant water supply and public health issues too, but it will be interesting to see how the Indian government handles improving the area, as well as maintaining the industry.

Also at the Nobel Prize museum, there was a display on global warming, with an inventive way to visualise it: a model of Oslo with a melting ice block suspended above it, slowly drowning the city. It seemed only appropriate that after that, we visit Oslo's newly redeveloped docklands area, right on the water, and have a coffee - and to marvel at the price of steak in the steak houses. About $60 for the cheapest. Well over $100 for the most expensive! We finished off the day with a walk up to the Royal Palace (very nice) and cocktails and dinner down town (also... very nice).

What did the next day have in store for us? In one word: rain.

What the hell? It's summer damn it!

The rain was here to stay. Like in Copenhagen - there's no such thing as a passing shower in Scandinavia. It just kept getting heavier and heavier. Should we have brought wet weather gear? Maybe. Should we have at least bought an umbrella that morning? Definitely.

It didn't stop us though. First thing on the "Oslo Plan" for Sunday - our handwritten scrap of paper with sights to see - was a trip to Frognerseteren. Almost 500-metres above Oslo, at the end of the #1 metro line. The plan was to hike to the TV tower, and get the view from there. As you can see from the photo above, there was no good view to be seen on this day.

We abandoned that plan, and took the metro down a few stations to Holmenkollen. This is home to Oslo's most famous sight: the Holmenkollen Ski Jump. Again, it would have been a lot better with some visibility of the city below. We climbed to the top, and it's quite horrid inside. Graffitied. Rusty. Leaking.

The current jump is slated for demolition, and a newer, bigger, and hopefully nicer, one will be built in time for the world championships in a few years.

After stopping for coffee - with the wishful thought that maybe if we give it 20 minutes, it'll stop raining - we pressed on. All the way back down the mountain to Vigeland sculpture park. The brain child of Gustav Vigeland and the Oslo city council, the park is full of Vigeland's naked statues. There are people in all sorts of poses, of all sorts of ages, and of both sexes. Kind of like an older version of the Bodies exhibition. You might realise by now that the weather was oppressive, so we made a quick decision to head for cover in the near by museum dedicated to Vigeland.

The decision was a good one. I thought it was a lot more interesting to know a bit of history about the statues than to be oblivious of the stories behind them if we'd simply wandered in the park. For instance, he was well known before 1905, but when Norway gained its independence, he was in a fortunate position to be able to accept a number of grants from the newly independent government looking to establish Norwegian identity. The park itself was guaranteed after the Oslo city council wanted to demolish his house to make way for a library. He argued to have the city give him a brand new studio, and a section of Frogner park. In return, the city owns all his works, sketches, models, etc.

The sculptures are quite evocative - showing all emotions and stages of life. His most famous sculpture is one of a toddler throwing a tantrum. I'd recommend a visit if in Oslo.

We couldn't stay at the museum all day, nor could we stay in Oslo forever, so it was back into the rain for us. Jealous of umbrella carrying sensible people. Annoyed at wet feet, soaking jeans, but all in all... having a great time.