Even more sites

They were $24 for the ‘Kahlua’, which we were getting to give to Lilly and $89 for the whisky. The whisky had to wait.
As I have said before, I prefer the seats on the plane that are located on the exit line over the wing, so I can get more legroom. However it appeared that my seating preferences, and meal preferences had not made the connection from the Singapore Airlines office in Singapore, and the check in counter at Changi airport. Never mind ‘it is an ill-wind that blows no-one any good.’
Another couple, who were seated in the seats I like, asked to be moved so we were able to take their places. The flight only took a couple of hours, and on the way we flew over Ho Chi Minh City.
The airport at Hanoi is not very big, but is a big improvement on what is was a few years ago, so we are told. It reminded me a bit of Istanbul airport, but there again they all look pretty much the same, long straight flat bits which planes land and take off from, and then a few buildings through which the people enter and exit.
It did not take long to get our luggage, which is good, and I strode confidently to the immigration barrier, and presented my passport. Smile sweetly and be polite is the rule, and then one will avoid any hassles. Right, ah no! Sadly wrong in this case.
“Mr Lunn, why you come to Viet Nam three days early, you do not have a valid visa?”
“We just wanted to spend more time in Viet Nam as we are looking forward to it very much.”
The young lady picked up the telephone and in about thirty seconds a young police officer appeared.
“You come with me please.”
We were taken to another part of the immigration area next to an enclosed office.
“Where are your passports?”
These were provided and then over the next hour, we were questioned by progressively more senior police officer.
“Why you come to Viet Nam three days too soon?”
They did not seem to believe that anyone would want to stay extra days in Viet Nam. Eventually after a number of telephone calls to Hanoi, we were allowed to purchase additional visas to cover the extra time, at US$25 each. I did not have US$50 so one of the police had to escort me through emigration to a money exchanger, where I was able to charge it to our Visa card, pay the police the money and get the visas. We were concerned that while all of this was going on that our driver, who was to meet us would have given up and left. But no, thank goodness, but I don’t know why, goodness has nothing to do with it on my part.
Anyway, he was there, and I of course tried to get into the driver seat again, as they drive on the other side of the road, well notionally that is. The immediate surrounds of the airport reminded me of Delhi, but a bit greener. The trip took about 40 minutes, and the traffic was mostly motorbikes, and lots and lots of them, with many having three or four passengers. Just before getting to Hanoi we crossed a very, very long bridge, called the Tha Long Bridge, it was constructed during the 1980’s, and came into use in 1985 to take the place of the Tha Long Bien Bridge which was obsolete. The Tha Long Bridge is more than 5 km long (including the access ramps). It has two tiers, the upper for mechanical vehicles, and the lower for trains, and with two sides for non-mechanical vehicles and pedestrians. The Tha Long Bien Bridge was built to span the Red River to connect the urban areas of Hanoi to the Gia Lam district. It was begun in 1898 and completed in 1902 by the Eiffel Company.
The Tha Long Bien bridge in the foreground and the ‘new’ Tha Long bridge in the backround both spanning the Red River.
The bridge itself is 1862 metres long with 19 spans and 24 pillars. I believe it had been a frequent target of the American air force during the American war in Viet Nam, and was in fact bombed and destroyed by the Americans in late 1972, and early 1973. Historically it was also called the Song Cai (Cai River) Bridge, and the Paul Doumer Bridge.
We were staying in the Sofitel Metropole hotel, 53 – 55 Trang Tien St, or 15 Ngo Quyen St, depending on which entrance one goes to, e-mail sofitelhanoi@hn.vnn.vn. The hotel was the location at which Graham Greene wrote his book ‘The Quiet American’. In the old wing of the hotel is a Graham Greene suite.



The Grand Hotel Metropole Hanoi, Tonkin, was opened in 1901.
‘The largest and best-appointed hotel in Indo-China. Situated opposite Government House, and adjacent to the post and telegraph office, banks, treasury and town hall.’
‘Every comfort. Perfect hygienic arrangements, lighted by electricity and all modern improvements. Dressing and bathroom, with shower bath, adjoining each bedroom. Drawing room, writing room. Smoking hall, large and handsome dining saloon. Cuisine of the first order, service irreproachable, excellent wines.
Splendid café adjoining the hotel.
Terms: from $6 per day, including breakfast, lunch dinner and bedroom, lights and service. Special terms for families and long periods. Omnibus to the railway station, carriages at the hotel. English spoken. Man spricht Deutsch. Rooms should be secured by telegram in advance. A. Ducamp Administrator.’

On check-in we were offered the opportunity to change our room from the new wing, Opera wing opened in 1996, to the old wing, for a nominal charge of US$40 extra per night.


Views inside and outside of the Metropole Hotel Hanoi.
“Thanks but no-thanks, the new rooms will be fine.”
The foyer is very elegant, and reminded us very much of Raffles in Singapore. And our modern room was very comfortable, as we were staying a few days we were given complimentary copies of a book ‘The most famous hotels in the world Sofitel Metropole Hanoi’ written by Andreas Augustin.

View of our room.
In the large and well-equipped bathroom we noticed bottles of clean water. These were replenished each day. That is new bottles were provided, not just filled up from the tap. We were careful to only drink bottled water and also rinse our toothbrushes etc with the bottled water.






A view of the new wing of the Metropole Hotel Hanoi.
After unpacking, and putting spare money passports etc in the safe in the wardrobe, we set off for a walk to the ‘old city’.
We walked up a road called Ly Thai To, and it was only after a couple of days that we realised there was a much quicker way. Down a small road opposite the hotel to the main post office, and then along Tien Hoang and Pho Dinh, which are on the shores of the Hoan Kiem lake, which is the centre of Hanoi.
In was in the first year of their rule, when the Ly Dynasty ruled Viet Nam 1010 – 1225, that the capital was transferred from the mountains of Hoa Lu to present day Hanoi, and renamed Thang Long (City of the Soaring Dragon). The city was named Ha Noi (City in the Bend of the River) by Emperor Tu Duc in 1831.
Hoan Kiem Lake was originally a bend in the Red River, and was called Luc Thuy Lake in the Ly – Tran Dynasties, 1010 – 1400, and Thuy Quan (Navy) lake under the Le Dynasty 1428 – 1524. It was a site of parades and boat racing tournaments.

In 1418, Le Loi began to organise what came to be known as the Lam Son uprising against the Chinese Ming Dynasty, who ruled 1414 – 1427. Despite several defeats, he persisted, earning the respect of the peasantry by ensuring that even when faced with starvation his guerrilla troops did not pillage the land. In accordance with the legend of Le Loi’s return of a sacred sword after his victory over Ming Dynasty’s troops. It was renamed Hoan Kiem Lake or Guom Lake (Restored Sword or Sword Lake).
Legend has it the sacred sword that was given to Le Loi by a large turtle in the lake was the reason for his triumph, and that when Viet Nam was liberated he gave the sword back to the turtle in the lake. To this day people hope to see a turtle in the lake as a portent of good fortune. It is a very murky lake, but there have been a number of claims of turtle sightings, and they have been associated with good fortune for Viet Nam in general and Ha Noi in particular.
At 77 Gau Go (street) we found a restaurant, Dong Kinh that had an up-stairs dinning room with views of Hoan Kiem Lake.
There was a fascinating buffet, but as we were still a little tired from the trip, we ordered off the menu, and had a three course meal that was excellent with a couple of bottles of Hanoi beer all for about Australian$8. At the table next to us were a young couple, a Vietnamese boy, and a Japanese girl. They were very friendly, and happy to tell us about things trips that we should include during our visit.
After dinner we did not feel like the walk back so hired a couple of ‘cyclos’ to take us back to the hotel. ‘Cyclos’ are pedicabs or bicycles with big ‘prams’ on the front that you sit in. They are a cheap and effective way of getting around, as Hanoi is flat and the ‘cyclos’ are a good way to ‘go with the flow’ of the traffic.
‘Cyclos’ in a Hanoi street.
The traffic is a bit of a shock at first as it is mostly motorbikes, and they treat traffic laws as an option to be considered, but not necessarily obeyed.
‘Normal traffic in Hanoi.

Sheila in her cyclo
Crossing roads as a pedestrian requires a new approach. You just pick a spot on the opposite of the very wide roads and step off the pavement and keep walking straight ahead at a steady pace.
John in his cyclo
The motorbikes weave around you, and as you are walking at a consistent pace everyone knows how to avoid you. But stepping off the pavement, getting half-way, and then rushing back to where you started in not the way to do it, is it Sheila? It is also not a good idea for husbands to try and drag their spouses across the traffic, is it John? It was still quite hot and humid when we got back to the hotel, so we were pleased to fall onto our very large bed in the welcome air-conditioning.
We woke early in the morning of Saturday 28th September; the room was very quiet despite the fact that the hotel is near the centre of the city.
We went down to breakfast in the main dining room, and there was a huge range of breakfast options catering for the tastes of many nations. Sheila opted for poached eggs on toast. I say eggs because every morning Sheila asked for one poached egg, and every morning she was given two until the day of her very last breakfast in Hanoi, when at last Sheila got one poached egg. I always try and ‘go native’ when eating, so I had boiled rice, seaweed, etc and other things an ‘ethnic minority’ lady encouraged me to take each morning. She spoke no English, and I spoke no Vietnamese, but I was a sucker for her sweet smile, and encouraging manner. It was only after the fourth meal like this, that I realised that what I had been having as an accompaniment to my rice etc was pig’s liver. Ah well! All part of the cultural experience.
On our way back to our room we went into a little souvenir shop in the hotel foyer, and bought a CD of Vietnamese folk music for US$5.00.
We organised our ‘day pack’ with a couple of bottles of water, and set off in ‘cyclos’ again to the Ngoc Son temple near the top end of Hoan Kiem lake. The temple is actually on a small island and to get to it to have to walk over a small wooden bridge and pay a very small entrance fee.
Ngoc Son temple on the Hoan Kiem lake Hanoi.
In the grounds of the temple are a few shops selling a wide range of souvenirs. We saw a great picture of a ‘Mong’ lady painted on silk, and we decided that if it was still there at the end of our holiday, and the price was right we would buy it. We walked around the top right hand part of the ‘old quarter’ looking for ‘Buffalo Tours’ to book our Monday trip to the ‘Perfumed Pagoda’, one of our planned trips, we had selected from the guide books. Their address is 11 Hang Muoi Street Hanoi, the tourist map we had was not correct, and the street names were ‘one street out’, but it did not take us long to get good advice from the locals, and find the tour company’s office. Their e-mail address is info@buffalotours.com and we recommend them very much, to anyone wanting to take tours anywhere in Indo-china.
We walked back into the centre of the ‘old quarter’ and had lunch in the Red River restaurant, which also is an inter-net café with very cheap rates. While I had lunch and a beer I sent an e-mail to Alex Wirawan, our travel agent at Flight Centre in Melbourne, and retold the tale of our visa concerns. As usual Alex was very efficient, and we were reimbursed very quickly for the cost of the extra visas that we had to purchase.
We walked along Hang Gai, ‘taking in’ the silk shops. Sheila was keen to buy something silk, and in the end we bought a silk embroidered picture of a Vietnamese lady. It is now on the wall in our sitting room and looks great. We were also shown some excellent red ‘lacquer ware’ bowls, by a very pregnant lady whom Sheila promised would get our sales if we ended up buying some.
We also got some photos developed and some enlargements done, while we waited, for a fraction of the price we would have paid in Australia.
On the way back to our hotel we also bought tickets for one of the Sunday night performances of the ‘water puppets’ another ‘must do’ in Hanoi.
After a shower we got dressed up, a bit, as we were ‘dinning in’ at the Le Beaulieu Restaurant in our hotel, part of the package deal that Adam had organised.
The dinning room looks like a ‘French’ hotel in the early 20th century with ‘copies’ of French impressionist artists on many walls.
There was a string quartet that played a huge range of music that includes Pachabel’s Cannon, Strauss etc; and it was a marvellous night. The menu was great and featured:
Bouillon de legumes d’ete et flan au basilic
Summer vegetables bouillon and flan with basil
Mijotee de thon rouge en fraicheur de citron, ecrasee d’avocat a la coriander
Red tuna mijote in salad with lemon, crushed avocado with coriander
***
Filet de bar de mer de Chine croute aux herbes d’Hanoi, compotee de crustaces, jus au curcuma
Seabass fillet from Chinese sea in crust with Hanoi herbs, seafood compote and turmeric juice
Agneau de lait fermier aux aubergines, jus a la menthe, jeunes carottes au beurre d’Echire
Farmed young lamb with eggplant, mint juice and young carrots with Echire butter
***
Palette de sorbets du moment et fruits rafraichis a la citronnelle
Sherbet palette and cooled fruits with lemongrass
Crumble aux peches de saison et cassis
Peach and blackcurrants crumble




On Sunday 29th September we got up at 07.45 trying to get away early as it is the last day for over three months that the Ho Chi Minh Mausoleum is open to visitors. Each year Ho Chi Minh’s body is taken to Moscow to the embalmers for treatment during October – December.
It seemed a great pity to us as Ho Chi Minh did not want to be embalmed, and his wish has been denied. We guess, because of the desire of the people to still see his body and pay their respects.
The body of Ho Chi Minh.
On September 2nd 1945, a podium was set up for President Ho Chi Minh to read the Declaration of Independence to proclaim the Democratic Republic of Vietnam. The podium was reconstructed there in 1954, when they at last achieved independence from French rule. In 1972 it was torn down to begin construction of President Ho Chi Minh’s mausoleum. The mausoleum itself is 21.60 metres high. Its upper part is a platform. The mausoleum was finished in 1976.
Although we arrived quite early the queue was about a mile long, and ten people wide; it was also hot and humid so we took a couple of photographs of each other with the mausoleum in the background and decided to visit Ho Chi Minh’s House-on stilts, which is just to one side of Ba Dinh Square, the site of the mausoleum.

The Ho Chi Minh mausoleum.

The very long queue.

John Sheila

Ho Chi Minh’s house on stilts looks like a humble ‘Queenslander’ with just a couple of small rooms upstairs and down stairs.
Ho Chi Minh’s House.
It is built of wood with a tiled roof and very simply furnished.

Lake near Ho Chi Minh’s House.
It was the place where President Ho Chi Minh worked and held meetings from May17th 1958 until his death September 2nd 1958. The house garden and bridge across the pond all belong to the group of historical sites to commemorate President Ho Chi Minh. We were very taken with the simplicity of his house and furnishings, the tranquillity of the house and gardens, and the very obvious respect from the very many Vietnamese people who were visiting the sites.
Lake near Ho Chi Minh’s house.

In the grounds of the house we went into a small shed where we were treated to a performance of folk songs accompanied by traditional instruments. We had some photographs taken with the folk singers and also bought another CD of folk music.
Another view of the lake.

John with some ‘ethnic minority’ muscians.





John and Sheila with some of the musicians.
It was then only a short walk to the Ho Chi Minh Museum, which is located behind the Mausoleum.
The museum was opened on May 19th 1990 to commemorate the 100th anniversary of his birth.
We were very, very impressed by the museum; it is a large building with large staircases giving access to two large upper floors.
There are a number of tableaux located on the upper floor providing scenes from various points in the history of Viet Nam.
On the first floor are many historical photographs and ‘sayings’ of Ho Chi Minh.












We were left with a feeling of great respect for Ho Chi Minh; his eyes seemed to blaze with intelligence, wisdom and gentleness.
We can understand why he was known affectionately by the people of Viet Nam as Uncle Ho. One of the thousands of sayings that has stayed in my mind is:
‘If you want a harvest after ten years plant trees, if you want a harvest over a hundred years cultivate people’.
In the precinct of the museum and also near the mausoleum is Hanoi’s famous One Pillar Pagoda, (Chua Mot Cot,) on Pho Ong Ich Kiem. Basically it is a small wooden pagoda that is built on a single pillar about one and a half metres in diameter. It is located in a square pool and that by a small peaceful garden.

It was built at the direction of Emperor Ly Thai Tong, who ruled from 1028 – 1054. According to the annals, the heirless emperor dreamed that he had met Quan The Am Bo Tat (Goddess of Mercy), who, while seated on a lotus flower, handed him a male child. Ly Thai Tong then married a young peasant girl he met by chance and they had a son and heir. To express his gratitude for this event, he had the One Pillar Pagoda constructed in 1049.

One pillar Pagoda. Sheila by the steps up to the pagoda.
It is designed to resemble a lotus blossom, symbol of purity, rising out of a sea of sorrow.
One of the last acts of the French before quitting Hanoi in 1954 was to destroy the One Pillar Pagoda; the new government rebuilt the structure. This French act of cultural vandalism would be perhaps matched by destroying the Bayeaux Tapestry.
From there we took a taxi to the Temple of Literature.
The Temple of Literature Hanoi.
The Temple of Literature is accessed through a number of gates through various courtyards. The status of visitors would decide through which gates they were permitted access.
The Temple of Literature is in fact an ancient University, it was built in 1070 in honour of the Duke of Zhou and Confucius.
One of the gates to the Temple of Literature.
When one considers that it was built only four years after the Battle of Hastings in England, when the Normans invaded England, and King Harold paid the price for keeping his eye on the archers, one can’t fail to be impressed by the history of their culture.
The King, Ly Anh Tong had the National School built behind the Temple in 1076. In 1475 the first stone stele was erected to record the names of the highest-level graduates of the court examinations. These are stone tablets on the backs of stone turtles. From a distance they look a lot like ‘headstones’ and in some way I guess they are.

The stone stele in the dark.
It was interesting to see current scholars copying the names for their own research. From 1442 to 1779, when the last examinations of the Le Dynasty was held, there were many steles, but only 82 have been kept until today. In 1802 the Khue Van Pavilion was constructed.
In the Khue Pavilion we listened to another folk group and had more photographs taken, one with me wearing a hat that made me look even more of a ‘dork’.
John ‘dork’.
We then went to the Municipal Water Puppet Theatre, just near the north eastern shore of Hoan Kiem Lake.

The ancient art of water puppetry (roi nuoc) was virtually unknown outside of northern Vietnam until the 1960’s. Depending on which story you believe, it originated with rice farmers who spent much of their time in flooded fields and either saw the potential of the water surface as a dynamic stage or adapted conventional puppetry during a massive flood of the Red River Delta. Whatever the true history, it is at least 1,000 years old.
Water puppets in Hanoi.
The farmers carved the puppets from water-resistant fig tree timber (sung) in forms modelled on the villagers themselves, animals from their daily lives and more fanciful mythical creatures such as dragon, phoenix and unicorn. (Just where is Hogwarts located?)
Performances were usually staged in ponds, lakes or flooded paddy fields.
Ancient scholarly references to water puppetry indicate that during the Ly and Tran Dynasties (1010-1400) water puppetry moved from being a simple pastime of villagers to formal courtly entertainment.
The art form then all but disappeared, until interest was rekindled by the opening of the Municipal Water Puppet Theatre in Hanoi. Admission is about Australian$7.00 for the best seats and with each of the ‘best seats’ you get a tape cassette of the accompanying music. There is also Australian$1.60 fee to use your flash camera during the performance or Australian$8.00 for a video camera.
Contemporary performances use a square tank of waist deep water, the surface of which is in fact the stage. The water looks dirty, but this is by design to conceal the mechanisms that are used to operate the puppets. The wooden puppets can be up to half a metre long, and weigh as much as 15kg. The puppets are painted with a glossy, vegetable based, paint. Each puppet only lasts for three or four months, so puppet production provides one village outside Hanoi with a full-time industry.
Eleven puppeteers, trained for a minimum of three years, are involved in each performance. They stand behind a bamboo screen, in the water and traditionally have suffered from a host of water borne diseases – these days they reputedly wear waders to avoid this nasty occupational hazard.
Some puppets are simply attached to a long pole while others are set on a floating base, that is in turn attached to a pole that is manipulated under the water. Most have articulated limbs and heads; some also have rudders to help guide them. There can be as many as three poles attached to one puppet, and in the darkened auditorium it looks as if they are literally walking on water.
The considerable skills required to operate the puppets were traditionally kept secret and passed only from father to son; never to daughters through fear that they would marry outside the village and take the secrets with them
The music, which is provided by a band at the side of the stage, is as important as the action on the stage. The band includes wooden flutes, gongs, cylindrical drums, bamboo xylophones and the fascinating single stringed ‘dan bau’. The body of the ‘dan bau’ is made of the hard rind of the bau, a Vietnamese watermelon, and produces a range of haunting notes through the use of a ‘whammy bar’, a flexible bamboo stem attached to one end of the soundbox that alters the tension on the string.
The performance consists of a number of vignettes that depict pastoral scenes and legends, which explain the origins of various natural, and social phenomena from the formation of lakes, to the formation of nation states. One memorable scene is a wet ‘balletic’ depiction of rice farming in which the rice growing looks like accelerated film footage and the harvesting scenes are frantic and graceful. Another tells of the battle between a fisherman and his prey, and looks so realistic it appears if a live fish is being used.

There are also fire breathing dragons (complete with fire-works), a slapstick ‘cat and mouse’ game between a Jaguar, and a flock of ducks and the duck’s keeper, and a flute-playing boy riding a buffalo.
The performance is very entertaining, lasts about 90 minutes, and quite amusing. The water puppets are graceful and the water greatly enhances the drama, allowing the puppets to appear and disappear as if by magic. The whole performance is enjoyed as much if not more by the Vietnamese, the lady in front of us singing along to a children’s folk song, much to the embarrassment of her husband. Not that we understood what they were saying, but husbands the world over just know!
After a long busy and very interesting day we walked back to the hotel, along the shores of the lake, and booked a call at 06.00 to ensure that we were up and ready for our 08.00 departure for the trip to the Perfumed Pagoda.
Early breakfast next morning, including pig’s liver again. Our driver and guide were at the hotel at 07.50 ready to take us, very impressed!
The Perfumed Pagoda is one of the highlights of the Hanoi area, and one of the most important religious sites in Buddhist Vietnam. Every Spring following Tet, the Vietnamese New Year, thousands of Vietnamese pilgrims go there to pray for all the health and prosperity they will need to get them through the year. The pagoda itself is built into limestone cliffs, and can only be reached by boat or on foot, as there are no roads in the area. There are in fact many pagodas and temples built over the centuries in the area of the Perfumed Pagoda.
The Perfumed Pagoda (Chua Huong) is about 60km south west of Hanoi by road, and takes about two and a half hours, though some very small and picturesque villages. The destination by car is My Duc, where we transferred to a small metal boat (like a san-pan) that was rowed by a young girl.
The boat ride took about one and a half hours along the Swallow River.
Swallow river.


Swallow River reflections.



Soon after we left, another boat with three young girls on-board followed us, and started to talk to us, and take photos of us with our camera. They were very beguiling.
Our three ‘friends’.
When we disembarked at a very small village we had to walk up-hill for about two hours to see the Pagoda. On the way we visited a shrine to Bhudda inside a cave, and our guide encouraged us to offer some prayers to Bhudda for peace. It seemed a very appropriate thing to do, and we did not feel awkward at all. Sheila’s legs were starting to swell badly in the heat and the humidity, but I was doing much better then I thought I might. Our guide Ming spoke very good English, and I enjoyed a debate with him about Bhudda and other issues. I mentioned that I had seen a large sign featuring a water retention project financed by Japan. Ming told me that it was good that they were getting the water retention system, but he was concerned that they would have to pay the price for it, as the Japanese were not doing it for altruistic reasons. When I asked him to explain, he said that they were obliged to import Honda motorbikes etc. The water retention project was an investment to obtain access to the 70,000,000 people in Vietnam that are seen to be an emerging consumer market that is worth investing in.
While I was walking and talking with Ming, the girls who had followed us from My Duc were helping Sheila up and down the stairs. I thought that this was very nice until the guide told Sheila that we should not encourage them, and in fact he had been trying to lose them. Sheila was a wake up to them.

When it became apparent that they asked her for money, Sheila said that she had no money, and that they would have to ask her husband.
In the end I gave them about 30,000 Dong, or Australian $4, we parted company with my ears resounding to polite epithets that sounded a bit like “you a very, very mean man”.
We had a huge lunch, Sheila noticed a tour group near us, also having a meal, but their selection was so extensive or as much. When Sheila asked our guide “why”, the answer was “they are a tour group, you have a private guide.” But the whole day with a car driver guide and meals was only Australian$38.00 each; that I think is excellent value.
When we were walking back to our boat we saw a little cage with a couple of monkeys in the cage. Our guide Ming said, “being caged up is not good for the monkeys.
I said, “No! It is not good for the monkeys”.
“That is what I mean about the peculiarities of the English language,” said Ming.
“ I make a statement about the monkeys, then first you say you disagree with me by saying ‘no’ then it is apparent that you do agree with me.”
I had to laugh, here we were in the countryside of Vietnam and our young Vietnamese guide was pointing out the vagaries of the English language.
“Yes you are correct,” I said, “I should have said, “Yes, it is not good for the monkeys”.
On the way back in the car we also saw a truck run off the road and Sheila exclaimed, “ Good grief”, we had another laugh at the capricious nature of our language.

Sheila, Ming and John on the Swallow River.
On the way back down the Swallow River we noticed a large number of flags on little poles all the way down the river. Our guide said that they were flags to honour the memory of a venerable monk who had died a few months earlier.
Some prayer flags just left of centre, on the Swallow River.
The traffic on the way back was very bad as it was peak-hour and it took us nearly three hours to get back to the hotel.

During the trip Ming told us that rats are considered a delicacy in some districts, but recently there had been some examples of counterfeit ‘rats’ being made from rabbits. The ears of the rabbits being trimmed to make them look like rats. I still don’t know if he was ‘pulling our legs’.
We had a quick meal in the ‘Metro’ Bar and decided to have an early night, it had been a very tiring day as the temperature had been over 35 degrees with over 84% humidity.
Sheila’s legs had swollen significantly, and we tried putting her legs up on a pillow at the end of the bed.
Tuesday 1st October 2002.
We got up fairly late and had another great breakfast in the Le Beaulieu Restaurant, including pig’s liver again. It was about this morning that Sheila managed to get a ‘strong’ cup of tea. It had taken a few days, but we got there in the end.
Sheila had booked into a cooking class, for US$45.00, in the hotel for 10.00–12.00. The class included shopping for the ingredients in one of the oldest markets in Hanoi, and then making and eating all the classic Vietnamese dishes that they watched being prepared.
I walked into the old quarter and put a film in for developing, again very cheap processing.
My ‘Turkish’, American sandals had developed a crack across the sole, so I tried to get another pair. I asked for a pair of leather sandals in the first sandal shop in the ‘sandal’ shop street, “size 46 please”.
“Size 46, you must be Ian Thorpe!”
I laughed, “no not Ian Thorpe, but yes I do need size 46.”
“No can do”.
The word spread very quickly, so that each shop I went into, they just turned away and said, “no can do.”
A big change from the usual ‘hard’ sells.
Then a lady pointed to a man working on the side of the pavement, he was the cobbler.
The repair cost me 10,000 Dong that I think is about Australian$2.00.
When I got back to the hotel Sheila was still at her cooking class so I decided to hire a bicycle. It cost Australian$2.00 for a day to hire a bicycle, a lock and chain.
I joined the flow of the traffic, and went around the old quarter a couple of times, and then back around the Lake a couple of times before heading back to the hotel. Next time I would like to hire a motorbike and try that as well.
When Sheila came back from her cooking class she was very excited, and had a great time.


We had a bit of a lie in next morning, and then decided we would walk around the back of the Opera House and visit the Museum of The Vietnamese Revolution (Boa Tang Cach Mang), at 216 Pho Tran Quang Khai.
Opera House Hanoi.
By the time we got there it had closed for lunch so we decided that we would take a couple of ‘cyclos’ to the shops near the Temple of Literature. In the forecourt of the Museum were a couple of ‘cyclos’, and as per the tourist guides we started to negotiate a price, before we set out. It was quite clear to us that we had agreed on fifteen thousand Dong for each ‘cyclo’ to go to the Temple of Literature. In the guidebooks it states that 10,000 Dong would be a ‘good fare’ for an hour or so. So the fifteen-minute trip was fair enough we thought, right, no sadly pronunciation is a trap one must be wary of falling into.
When we got to the Temple of Literature I proffered the 30,000 Dong. This was rejected by the drivers with them saying that they wanted 100,000 Dong, being fifty thousand each. No wonder they were keen to take us, and were smiling all the way. To cut a long argument short in the end I agreed to give them 30,000 Dong each.
We looked at some red lacquered bowls and some silk, but decided that the best products and prices were in the middle of the old quarter. We walked back via the shop in the old quarter where Sheila had promised the pregnant lady that we would buy from her. She was not in the shop, and the lady in the shop told us that she was very close to giving birth, and was resting at home.

We bought a lot of bowls of various sizes and were very pleased with our purchases though I was a little concerned about having to add them to our carry-on luggage for the rest of the trip.
We had to pack everything that night as we were being picked up at 08.00 by a car and driver for our trip to Halong Bay.
We left at 0800 on Thursday 3rd October for the four-hour drive to Halong Bay.
Halong Bay is located in the Gulf of Tonkin, with its 3,000 plus limestone islands rising from the emerald coloured waters. The bay and its numerous islands sprawl over an area of 1500 sq km. In 1994 the bay was designated as a UNESCO World Heritage site. The tiny islands that are far taller than they are wide are dotted with many beaches and grottoes created by the wind and waves.
Ha Long means ‘where the dragon descends into the sea’. Legend has it the islands of Halong Bay were created by a great dragon that lived in the mountains. As it ran towards the coast, its flailing tail gouged out valleys and crevasses; as it plunged into the sea, the areas dug up by the tail became filled with water, leaving only bits of high land visible.
Tuan our driver, from Indochina Tours, did not speak much English, but he was an excellent driver, a necessity in the traffic.
The road is very good highway that goes through a lot of small rural villages separated by rice fields. There are many toll-booths on various stretches of the highway, I guess that the Vietnamese have learned about raising revenue for road building; though I suspect the roads might have been built and owned by international companies. The drive itself is an exciting part of any visit; one may suspect that there is a desire to see how close they can overtake in front of trucks without colliding, to relieve any boredom. We also encountered a little rain, the first of our whole trip.
It was interesting to note the number of rice fields that have been converted into factories: Nippon Steel, Italy Steel, Ford etc. I felt that is was sad to for-see the workers in the fields moving inside of the factories for a dollar a day. I felt we should stop and tell them not to trade their rural lifestyle for becoming factory fodder, but I guess that foreign investment is the only way that they are going to get access to sanitation, clean water and improved hygiene and health.
About two-thirds of the way to Halong Bay our driver, Tuan, stopped at a little village for morning tea. In this village is a workshop that is staffed by handicapped children. These children produce exquisite embroidery.
Over the door way to one of the workshops was a sign that reads:
‘The classroom built by: Mr and Mrs Leigh W and Carol Webb
Add: Tukal Dock Lane Beaulieu Hampshire England
For the handicapped people’.

When we got home I wrote to them and told them of the sign.
They wrote back and said that they had visited the village a few years ago, and had been equally impressed with the work of the children and as a result that had donated $10,000 to build the classroom. All the money had been used for materials as the villagers had donated their labour for nothing. The money had been managed via ‘Plan International’ and Mr and Mrs Webb were thrilled with the result.
Our hotel was the Heritage Hotel near the beachfront in Halong Bay. The hotel is a bit down market from the Metropole, but is currently the best there.
Our room was a corner room, it was large with a good bathroom etc, and was comfortable enough for the next three days.
We walked down to the front, and the food stalls, little bars etc reminded me of Sembawang, a little village in Singapore when I was there in the 1960’s.
We then explored the rest of Halong Bay, this took about thirty minutes. There are a lot of budget tourist hotels that appear to cater for ‘sex’ tours especially from Korea, China and Japan.
This became especially apparent when we went into the ‘Sauna and Massage centre’ in the grounds of our hotel and tried to ask how much the sauna etc would be for Sheila and I. We were not quite sure of their answers but the message given with lots of smiles and laughter was no, not for us.
Sheila’s legs were very swollen and sore so we skipped dinner and decided to have an early night.
We woke early, feeling quite hungry so wandered down to the dinning room that looked a bit like a ‘Cole’s Cafeteria’ including the uniforms of the staff. It was a bit cloudy, but we could see some of the islands from our balcony.
View of Halong Bay from our hotel room.
The day was Friday 4th October, and Sheila started to express some concern for Rosalind, originally Adam and Rosalind were going to join us for the weekend, but Adam had to work, and Rosalind was due to join us on her own at about lunch time.
We rang Rosalind to warn her that the village of Halong Bay was not the resort that we expected it to be.
Rosalind arrived at about lunchtime still a bit shocked by the drive up from Hanoi.
We took Rosalind on the grand tour of Halong Bay Village, and it did not take Rosalind long to form the opinion that it was ‘a bit of a hole’. But we decided that as long as we could laugh at it, and share it, we could at least say we had experienced it. We also recalled that the purpose of the visit was in fact a boat trip around the bay.
In the evening we agreed to meet in the Executive Lounge on the top floor for some pre-dinner drinks. We were the only people in the bar apart from the young girl serving, who was more interested in watching the TV.
Rosalind asked for a Cognac and Sheila a Black Label whisky. This stretched the bar resources a bit and the young lady went away for quite a while in search of our requests. It took her about 15 minutes, and I think that was the time taken to make it.
I opted for going native again, and asked for a ‘Nep Moy’. This proved to be a clear liquid that the girls insisted smelled like acetone. They both said that I should not drink it and they would use it to clean their nail polish off. “Nah it is all part of the cultural experience” was my reply. In fact it was quite smooth to drink and not as fiery as I expected that it might.
Given our impressions of the dinning room we decided to walk along the front and see if there was an outdoor restaurant, and that would be good to have dinner at.
We walked a little way along the beach front and then sat and had a couple of beers while we looked at the bay and the local holiday makers.
The Hanoi beers seemed to go straight to our heads so we went in search of somewhere to eat. We walked along ‘the front’ for about a kilometre and Sheila was not very impressed with the rows of little ‘massage’ parlours with girls outside waiting for customers. It reminded me of the little tin ‘massage’ parlours in Hay Street Kalgoorlie Western Australia, that had been pointed out to us on a little tour of Kalgoorlie/Boulder. We wandered past the tourism park, and as there was not much past that, returned to a restaurant that looked popular, and as we could see into the clean stainless steel kitchen it looked a good choice.
The very good food was accompanied by good folk music again. The only ‘down side’ for the girls was when they spotted large brown rats running along the roof girders above our heads.
Feeling weary we headed back to the hotel and an early night before our boat trip out to the islands.
When we went down for breakfast Rosalind was already there and told us that she had been asked “where were you last night we had dinner ready for you?” As part of Rosalind’s ‘room package’ all meals were provided and they wanted to know why Rosalind had not turned up at the dinning room for dinner.
A driver picked us up with a mini-bus at 08.00 for a short trip along the front to where all the boats were moored.
It turned out that we were the only passengers for our boat with a crew of six.
It took about two hours to get out among the islands and the sky cleared and the blue skies and emerald sea made us pleased that we had decided to stay for the cruise. All of the limestone islands are covered with trees and bushes and are very impressive. Our first stop was at a little jetty on one of the islands. As the crew spoke little English we were not sure of the program but it was clear that we had to get off. We followed other people as they disembarked from their boats and walked up some steps that led into a large limestone cave.

It seemed strange to me that we climbed up into these caves rather than going down into them like we do in Australia. It was a large cavern that was full of examples of stalagmites and stalactites etc. The disconcerting aspects were the lime green and orange lighting effects, and a concrete installed water fountain that also was illuminated by the rotating lime green and orange lights. Still the temperature inside the cave was some pleasant relief from the heat and humidity outside. When we descended to another jetty our captain found us and escorted us back on board.
From there we went through a few island groups until we found ourselves in a lagoon that was almost enclosed by small islands.
One small part of Halong Bay.
In this lagoon were moored about ten large rafts on which were thatched houses. It was a small floating village. A young girl brought a small rowing boat alongside and we were encouraged to go with her. She rowed us through a low archway into a small lagoon about a hundred metres across.
The only entrance/exit was through the archway, and it is only a passage when the tide is low enough.
It was very tranquil in the lagoon with the brush-covered insides of the island covering sheer drops into the sea. Swallows and other birds have their nest on the cliff sides and swoop around the lagoon as we just sat and watched.
From there the young girl, who spoke excellent English, took us to the raft house in which she lived, and she showed us the fish pens that were attached to the raft. In one pen were a couple of large turtles and they pulled the nest in so that we could see it clearly.
In other pens were small sharks and a variety of other fish.



We were also encouraged to lie in a hammock under a thatched roof. We used it as a photo opportunity, but as soon as we got out of the hammock, the owner a young boy was keen to claim it back as his.
John in ‘his’ hammock.
More and more islands, and the captain was keen for us to take some pictures of ourselves in front of one that they intimated was called ‘butterfly’ rock. I still think it is a big stretch of imagination to call it ‘butterfly’ rock, but there you go.


We saw some more floating villages and I was intrigued to see one that had two pool tables. I guess that one is the local pub.
The village ‘pub’.
We stopped at another very steep island that had a pagoda on the top. Rosalind and I decided that it would be a good spot from which to take photos so we climbed to the top. It was very hot and humid, and I had to stop a few times to get my breath, but Rosalind being very fit could have made it in one, apart from her deciding to make sure I did it as well.
The ‘best’ photograph that I took of Halong Bay.


The view from the top was well worth the climb, and we took a number of photographs, including ones with a Chinese chap from Bejing, who had climbed to the top in a shirt and tie and suit trousers. I was pleased to see the amount of perspiration he had expelled so I could see that I was not the only one who found the climb a bit of ‘hard yakka’.
My Chinese friend at the top of an island in Halong Bay.


When we got back to the beach at the bottom I went in for a swim to cool of while Sheila and Rosalind spoke to a Chinese lady from London who Sheila had met. This lady had a surgical mask over the lower part of her face. This is not that unusual in Asia as ladies often wear masks or scarves to protect themselves from pollution or the sun. However it transpired that this lady had been encouraged by her ‘friends’ to have her lips tattooed.
This is apparently ‘all the rage in London’ and it is being done in Halong Bay for just the price of a couple of lipsticks. Sheila asked to see her lips and asked about the needles. “It was ok I saw them open the packets of needles” she said, “but it did take fours hours and it still feels very sore.” We all thought that she was crazy, but she said, “everyone always does ‘crazy things’ on holiday”. We all said that we hoped that we would never get that crazy.
A very extensive lunch was prepared for us including fresh fish that they had picked from the fish pens. They provided enough for about a dozen people, and they appeared disappointed that the three of us could not eat it all.
On the way back the engineer came up on deck for a bit of a ‘chat’. He spoke no English and us no Vietnamese, but we managed to work out that he was about the same age as me. When he discovered that we were from Australia, he pointed at himself, then me, and then pretended that he had a machine gun and was shooting at me. I guess that he was a veteran of the American war in Vietnam and had fought against Australian troops. I was pleased that he felt able to laugh about it.
As an aside I was at a conference in Vienna recently. At this conference I met an American academic whose research interest is war and the common factors of all wars. I said that I was interested in his model, but was not sure how it applied to the American war in Vietnam that the Americans lost. “We do not say that we lost that war, it was a stalemate”, he says.
The other feature of the return trip was two of the ladies trying to sell us souvenirs, everything from postcards to embroidery. Whenever we said no, they would bring out something else. It was a bit of a nuisance as they were not happy to take ‘no’ as an answer, and that to them ‘no’ meant only ‘no’ to that item, and it encouraged them to bring out all of their stock which was as extensive as Myers department stores.
When we got back to the jetty Rosalind gave the Captain a tip for himself and the crew with which they were very pleased, and it encouraged them to help us disembark down a steep rickety plank safely.

Sheila, the Captain and Rosalind.
Being on the water all day we felt exhausted so we had a small dinner at the hotel and early night and packed ready for the trip back to Hanoi in the morning.
Our driver and his mini-bus arrived at 10.00 as requested for the four-hour trip back. The mini-bus is not as mobile as a car so it was pretty scary, and a few times Sheila and Rosalind were reconciled to their fate as a smudge on the front of an on-coming truck.
We stopped for refreshments at a ‘truckies’ shopping stop where one could buy a whole range of goods, including ‘French’ perfumes, bottles of liquor with whole snakes and birds inside, varnished turtles, and quite bizarre Catholic icons. We did not buy anything there and encouraged our driver to get back on the road to Hanoi. We managed to connect with another ‘rush hour’, but returned safely ‘home’ to the Metropole Hotel.
We met in the ‘Bamboo’ bar, next to the pool, for pre-dinner drinks. It is a very civilised setting, and we felt very ‘elegant’. Rosalind had booked dinner for us all at the Indochine, a famous Hanoi restaurant, that Rosalind and Adam had been to before. It lived up to its reputation in its food, service, music and ambiance. It was a great way to spend our last night in Vietnam.






Digressing for a minute, I have been typing for a few hours and Sheila suggested that I take a break by giving Chloe a walk. We went out the front door and as soon as we stepped out Chloe started barking. It was only after a ‘double take’ that I saw that she was barking at a kangaroo bounding down our street. It is the first time we have had one in our street. I guess it has come into the suburban areas from the bush to try and get some feed from the lawns during the long drought.
Rosalind room was next door to the Graham Green suite and when we met for breakfast prior to leaving Rosalind said that she was having problems opening the safe in her room. “No worries, I’ll fix it”, I declared. It was a different design to the one in our room and what I did not realise was that the barrel of the lock came out with the key, and when it does the heavy door falls ‘out’ against your shins. Ah well! At least it was open and Rosalind could retrieve her valuables.
A thirty-minute trip by taxi to the airport and while I settled down to wait in the airport departure lounge Sheila and Rosalind decided to check out the shops. While I waited an American chap came and sat next to me and proceeded to tell me that he was ex CIA, and what a great chap George Bush was. Good manners required that I did not share my views with him. Sadly, it was not my day for good manners. Rosalind, walked past and thought about sitting down, but decided that the level of debate was such that she decided to keep walking around until the flight was called.
When we got back to Adam and Rosalind’s house we had a great meal and an early night. We packed next day and prepared to meet Adam that night after his work and go out to dinner. It turned out that Adam was still very busy with a big Indonesian matter, and we went to his office to pick him up, but he had to wait in some calls from Australia and Jakarta.
Rosalind took us for pre-dinner drinks to the Fullerton Hotel, which used to be the Singapore General Post Office. It is now a very elegant hotel, and the reception areas and bars are palatial. From there Adam took us to a restaurant at the top of a tall hotel building, I can’t remember the name, but the dinner was excellent and a Chinese lady who sings jazz for the patrons, is superb.
It was a great finale for our holiday and last night in Singapore.
Another great trip, thanks to the generosity of Adam and Rosalind, with memories that will stay with us forever.
CHAPTER 3
‘ALL ROADS LEAD TO ROME (EVEN IF YOU ARE HEADING FOR REBAK)’
4th September 2003
Based on our previous experience of taking clothes that we never got around to wearing, we had kept our luggage down to one large case, and one carry-on bag. This aim had been assisted by Sheila’s inspired work producing a wardrobe of beautiful, yet versatile, clothes that she could mix and match, and was made of lightweight materials. One of the critical last minute buys for Sheila were some sun-glasses that were sufficient of a fashion statement to be acceptable. Being a fashion slave myself, I was persuaded to get a pair of modern sunglasses to replace my perfectly adequate Glare-foils and also my first pair of blue jeans. I say persuaded, I had figured that I would be able to get out of the shopping centre earlier if I acquiesced.
While we were away a new colleague of mine, Anna Rosenthal, would be house-sitting for us and also looking after Chloe, our Maltese/Shi Tsu. Anna was not able to take up residence until a few days after we had left but she had come up the weekend before to meet Chloe, get the keys etc. Betty and Jack Paterson our next-door neighbours had agreed to look after Chloe until Anna arrived, so we took Chloe next door while we finished the last minute packing, passport, ticket checks etc. I also took the opportunity to do a couple of hours work via e-mails etc. I took a box up to the shed and glanced over the fence to see Chloe watching me. She was not impressed. She had noticed the packing and remembered what it meant.
My other colleague and friend Ian Manock had happily agreed to pick us up in his car and take us to Bathurst airport. I was keen to pack my case in Ian’s car as he had a ‘bad’ back and he was keen to pick the case up and preserve my health for the trip. He won the honour, thank goodness.
We booked the case in and soon afterwards a group of Sheila’s friends from the Flying Geese sewing group came into the terminal from the flying clubroom, where they meet, to wish us a Bon Voyage. As is my want I asked them all to line up so that they could all have a cuddle and kiss goodbye.
The flight to Sydney domestic airport took about 40 minutes and was very smooth. No concerns about picking up our case and then we went to find the bus for transfer to the international terminal. It was about a fifteen-minute wait and cost $4 each for a ten-minute trip. The bus is not luggage friendly and we said that we would either use a taxi or try the train on the way back.
We went for a light lunch and coffee while we waited for the book-in counter to open. Usual experience: pay a lot for crap food and drink. You are part of a captive audience and you are exploited, but no point in getting annoyed that is just the way it is. Sheila had a quick look at some make-up so that she would be able to check prices Duty Free and while overseas. In case I forget later, the opinion of a very competent shopper is that for most items it is cheaper to buy your goods at your local shop and not buy overseas or Duty Free unless you are buying locally made gifts etc in Viet Nam, Albania or other developing countries. Luxury goods are best bought in Australia, this must say something about our economy but I don’t know what.
We joined the queue waiting for the booking counter to open and lurked near a pillar where the barrier was going to be opened. It is interesting to see the manoeuvring of the people waiting. Especially the wives urging their husbands to make sure that ‘their place’ in the queue was not compromised. It must be a result of the weekly supermarket queue wars.
I had ‘pole position’ that I subtly protected with our case etc and the odd frown at any possible encroachment on ‘pole position’. However when the counter staff came and took the barrier down I relented and generously allowed two couples to precede us into the race to the counter. It was apparent that they had been in the vicinity for a lot longer than us and I did not feel they should be penalised because they were not ‘queue smart’. With hindsight maybe not so good as the two couples both had ‘ticket issues’ that took a long time to resolve. When at last we were asked to step forward to the booking counter I asked if we could be given an aisle seat and the one next to it, on the exit row over the wing. This is my preference as it gives me more legroom and is close to the toilets etc.
We were told that none were available and we were allocated an aisle seat and the one next to it towards the back of the plane. I asked if it were possible to be up-graded to Executive (business) class or closer to the front of the plane. The lady doing our check-in was very helpful and went away to the supervisor to see what could be done. She was away for ages, much to the chagrin of the passengers behind us, I guess. When she returned she said, “We will do what we can and when you get to the boarding gate the supervisor there will let you know.”
Sheila wanted to do some more ‘comparative’ shopping while I was happy to read the papers and log onto work via an internet café and do a few more work e-mails, probably my last chance for a while and Sheila tries to ‘police’ this while we are on holiday.
We were boarding at gate 55 and it seems to me that it is a law of the universe that wherever you are travelling to the boarding gate is the one that is furthest away.

The flight was obviously going to be full as the crowd around the boarding gate became very large and disorganised. I look forward to a couple of years time when I can respond, without embarrassment to the call for “elderly passengers and those with children please board first”. I like to get on early and get my carry-on luggage stowed in the locker over my head so we can get what we want on the flight easily and not have to access a locker a few rows away with suspicious glares from other people with luggage in that locker. I always feel that I should show everyone what I have extracted from the locker so that they can feel assured that I have not violated their luggage and made off with the crown jewels.
At the barrier Sheila handed over her boarding card for the electronic checking and the machine ‘beeped’ and rejected it. The staff said, “Would you please stand to one side madam and check with the supervisor.” As my boarding card was being put in I said “same thing will happen to mine I expect.” I was treated with a condescending smile that said “don’t be smart sir just let us do what needs to be done.” Beep followed by a frown and the words “would you please stand to one side sir and check with the supervisor” implicit with the frown was the unspoken ‘smart arse’.
Check with the supervisor, ‘great’ I thought this is our up-grade to Executive Class. The supervisor was very urbane and announced to us that we had been fortunate enough to be moved forward a few rows and to the right hand side. The way the message was delivered one would think we had first class seats behind the pilot. But the message was moved forward a bit and the reality on this Thai airline flight was no personal video player etc and we were not able to see the large cabin screen from where we were sat. It was going to be a long, long flight to Bangkok.
We took off at 16.30 local time, which was on time.
The flight as predicted seemed to take ages and although we were tempted to sleep we did not as we knew that we would want to sleep on the longer next leg of our flight from Bangkok to Rome.
We were meeting our son Adam and his wife Rosalind in Bangkok airport as they had arranged the tickets for the next leg through their frequent flyer rewards and they had the tickets that were also on Thai airlines, but on the flight to Rome it was in business or Executive Class. We were looking forward to that very much as it is a long flight especially just after a flight from Sydney. Adam had sent us a map of where to meet him in Bangkok airport, but we all had been a little nervous of the connection, as there was only about 40 mins between our scheduled landing and the next flight out. In fact we arrived 30 minutes early and this was a bonus, as after we landed we had to board a bus to take us to the main terminal and also go through immigration and get our case from the carousel etc.
It all went very smoothly which is a credit to the Thai airport procedures and Adam’s map. As we walked down the steps from immigration Adam walked into the terminal location where we were to meet. The timing was in fact exquisite and we quickly caught up with Rosalind, checked in our luggage and went into the Executive Club lounge for a quick drink. It was very crowded and seating was difficult to find, but we managed.
When we boarded we were directed up-stairs and it was very different to being down stairs at the back. There is a lot more individual room and ‘air-space’ so one does not feel as claustrophobic, but again no personal video equipment in the seats. There was a large cabin screen located behind the door into the flight deck, which was pulled down from the ceiling. This is just in front of the access to the two toilets so if you needed to go you had to duck below the screen to get into the toilets. If one wanted, one could ask for a personal CD player. Rosalind and Adam who were seated just in front of us did, but Sheila and I did not bother. I think we took off at about 0020 local time that meant that Sheila and I being on Sydney time still, it was about 0200 for our bodies and we felt like it. Sheila and I skipped supper and took half a sleeping tablet each. We went out like lights and had no knowledge of anything for the next six hours. We were aware of feeling a little cold sometimes and a bit uncomfortable as that plane did not have very effective leg rests. We started to become fully conscious as we were flying over Turkey and particularly Istanbul and that reminded us of our great holiday there a couple of years before.
5th September 2003-10-18 we arrived at Leonardo Da Vinci airport Fiumicino ROME at 0650. I wondered if it is the only airport in the world named after a painter. Adam had pre-booked a car, but finding our way around the airport to the Euro car rental office was like finding our way through a maze designed by demented rats, but we found it okay. It was a large new diesel engine Mercedes that had plenty of room for us, and our luggage, though I did make the mistake of trying to get into the drivers seat.

Adam with the Mercedes.
The next challenge was finding our way to the hotel in Rome. Adam had booked ahead for one night so that we could rest before driving north to Florence and the small village, San Casciano, where we were staying most of the time. Our hotel in Rome was called the Hotel Art located at 56 Via Margutta, that is parallel to the Via Del Babuino that runs between the Piazza del Popolo and the Piazza da Spagna (Spanish Square site of the famous Spanish Steps) and it can be viewed via www.hotelart.it or e-mail via info@hotelart.it