don't just dream it, do it

For many many years I have felt some sort of special connection with a particular place. My mother's family is based in this far flung corner of England. I spent most of my summer holiday's throughout my years in this ancient country, combing the beaches and walking the cliffs. Initially with my family and then by myself from the age of 14, when I ventured away from home alone for the first time with a bag on my back- a bug that has never left me since. Later, I dragged my great friends, Chris, Paul and Charlotte down there for a post high school binge in a caravan. I have walked hundreds of miles along the coast, on the moors and through the bucolic farmlands and villages. I have worked there as a barman and lived in a tent for many months just before joining up. I visited there for a couple of weeks just this last July, to savour the sights, flavours, sounds and smells of this treasured county. During all these years, even as a young teenager, dragging my soaking wet rucksack from the sea after I had fallen in on my first lonely sojourn to these rugged shores, for some reason, I knew I belonged.

These cliffs, where my father first met my mother and so, to me, imbue a traditioanl sense of romance in a world where romance seems to have been lost to material and selfish gain, stir up my heart more than anywhere in the world. The light, the flowers, the scents, the golden ales, the ridiculously small churches, the sense of history, the power of the sea and the memories, all contrive to empower my dream of one day living permanently in this glorious land of funny accents - Cornwall, of course. 

So, I say to myself, should I dream it, or should I live it? These photos from my last visit will answer that question. Nowhere that I have been in the world - and that really is many many places, does it quite as well.

See you all down there!

Swimming at Trebarwith - Again!

a fun trip to bangkok

images taken with my lap top camera

Just two days ago the insurance finally agreed to cover my knee surgery - but as there are no specialists in Vietnam, I have had to fly to Bangkok and admit myself to the Bumrungrad international hospital.I flew in in the morning of Friday 17th December and arrived at the hospital at 1pm. I was whisked from one department to another and into see the specialist team who would carry out the surgery. By 3.30 I was in the prep room, lying on an operating bed waiting for the anaesthetist to put me to sleep. I challenged her that this time I would get to 10 before she put me asleep, I remember getting to 10 and then it was lights out.

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Knee has to be raised and kept straight, OWWWW!

Its now midday here on Saturday 18th December and I am lying on a hospital bed once again....my knee is a disaster. I had a 5 hour surgery!!! It was all a bit tricky in the end. There were 3 specialists on the case. I woke up at 11.30pm in the recovery room and had a fitful and morphine infused nights sleep. I stopped taking the morphine about 3 hours ago (its now 12 noon), as it was doing my head in so to speak!. Now the pain is pretty bad, but at least I am awake and compus mentis. The doctor arrived to check me out a few minutes ago and he told me of the saga.. they have taken my ACL completely out as both the original and the revision were non-functional. then they drilled out the retaining screws and replaced the holes in the base of the femur and top of the tibia with a graft from my hip - A 2cm by 5cm core was hand-drilled direct from my hip, my perfectly functional pelvic bone to facilitate this!! Bits of this section have now plugged the old screw and ACL holes which will, in time fuse with the bone around it filling all the holes back in. They had also taken some slivers of the section and screwed this into the top of my tibia with the aid of a titanium plate. They did this as they felt that by re-aligning my bones, I should walk properly again without an ACL. Also they suggest that this will reduce future problems like those probably caused by the first quack who sliced me apart in Glasgow for the first ACL some 15 years ago and succeeded in crippling me for life.

This current triad of orthopaedic wizardry reckon that I might be able to function reasonably well now without an ACL, but if not, by filling in all the holes, they could take some of my right hamstring and screw it back into the now re-filled holes to act as an ACL. They would normally use my left hamstring, but that was taken in the revision ACL op some 4 years ago. So my right would have to suffice!

So all in all, I am in pain, in bed just days before Christmas and with not even the remotest sign of tinsel. I wont get out of here til 24rh at the earliest they say and now I have to amuse myself and get my head round the seriousness of my predicament, completely alone and with too many hours to think about it all..

At least I am still alive right?
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Its now 11am day 2 of the recovery, (Sunday 19 December). Last night was quite literally living hell. I went through phase after phase of searing pain, like someone was burning my bones. The nurses are very kind though, and very caring. They injected me intermittently with painkiller which lasts a few hours, but the pain comes back again before they can administer another dose!

view from my bed

The hospital is wonderful actually. My room is like a 4 star suite: huge flat screen tv, kitchenette, dining table, lovely bathroom and a seating area that converts into a visitors bed. I have a large window with remote controlled curtains and the view across the city is quite interesting - another huge building site! This is like a different world compared to the hospital in Chennai that I had to stay in last year due to dengue. The food is also healthy and tasty and the atmosphere very professional and calm. The doctor came in to inspect my leg. All seems to be going to plan so far. I have 6 stitches on my hip (which is surprisingly pain free considering they removed 2 cores from the pelvis). Then I have three other wounds on my knee - one small puncture for one of their probes and two other long incisions, one with 10 stitches, the other with 4. They kindly sliced me open in the same place where I was sliced open during the first operation so at least I will only have two major scars still.

The doc says the reason why I am in such bad pain is because they basically did 4 operations in one go. Removal of a lot of torn cartilage (the stuff that cover bones at joints to ensure smooth contact surfaces), removal of 2 torn areas of my meniscus (the rubbery shock absorbing layer between the tibia and femur), the removal of the old ACL and screws - including the refilling with hip bone cores as mentioned yesterday) and finally the re-alignment of the joint using a titanium plate to reduce the same type of problems reoccurring...They have kindly issued me with a DVD of the whole thing! Makes for interesting, if gory viewing. In fact it made me wince with pain as I watched it through.

It all sounds pretty serious, well it is fairly. But the prognosis is good and the doctor says progress is fine and he is hopeful that I will be walking normally in about 2 months. In the meantime, I will not get bored as I will have hours and hours of rehabilitative physiotherapy to look forward to - joy!

So all in all not too bad, just wish I could have visitors, but because I am miles form anyone; friends or family, I will have a pretty dull time of it.

I have plenty of books downloaded onto my laptop. I have 3 New Scientists magazines to read, television, ipod and lots of physio to keep me occupied, so I will be fine.

cup of earl grey and good looking nurses, who cares about the pain

I now need to hobble to the loo to go for a pee - I have to drink and thus pee a lot to wash the painkiller through otherwise they can affect my kidneys.

Just had another visit from the admissions staff. The insurance have finally sent a letter of guarantee, so at least this is all free. :)

a rather unusual occurence

The owner and designer of The Make
clothing

The weekend started with a flight to Hanoi, then a 5 star brunch with free flow french wine at the Metropole Hotel. I was being wined and dined prior to a photo shoot that I had been asked to do for a friend of a friend. The designer wanted some shots she could use for her showroom. Surrounded by beautiful Vietnamese women, who was I too refuse..in fact I was more than happy to oblige.

 So here are some low res results of the trilogy idea I came up with. I did a load of catalogue shots as well, but the ones here tell the story that I wanted to project..

Oh it was such hard work luvvie!






Never lose your cool with The Make...
Sharp clothes for sharp people

 

To beer or not to beer? - Is there a simple answer.....

Finding a good beer in Vietnam is like spending a night in a 5 star hotel suite being pampered by 2, no 3, catwalk models, who's sole aim is your physical and emotional pleasure - i.e. its a pipe dream! However, I believe in fantasy and the age old adage that you can 'make your own luck'. Now, as I am not as interested in cat-walk models as a good fruity, crisp, refreshing glass of the amber nectar, I guess I have automatically set myself a rather unique challenge - to make and sell good beer in Saigon.


So! you might ask, surely there has been lots of people brewing and selling beers in Saigon, surely someone is getting it right? Well, as Pete Brown suggests in his history of India Pale Ale book - Hops and Glory, the current trends for beer in Asia is really producing nothing but insipid lagers  - so little to them except sour sharpness and very few with depth or character. He refers a great deal to those beers such as Kingfisher found in India, well let me tell you, Kingfisher is a glorious brew compared to the stained tap water variants offered in Saigon.


The current market consists of 6 main brews: Heineken, Hanoi Beer, 333, Saigon Beer, Halida and the South East Asian giant, Tiger - Most of this stuff can be bought in cans, bottles and occasionally on draft, but always it fails to do anything except fill the imbiber full of gas. All of these beers taste so indifferent that I have occasionally got so depressed about this status quo that I turned to that other malt favourite; Whisky, to give my pallate some relief from the boredom.


The only alternatives in Saigon are a couple of Czech Micro breweries which once again produce the standard fizzy larger and seemingly the exact same Dark beer (almost black) all of which come with a very sharp edge and very bitter after taste. At least this stuff is fresh and you can see a couple of large copper mash pots to pretend you're in a house of artisan brewing. But no - really - it just doesn't do it.....and then it came to me., why not, it could be possible, perhaps - perhaps what about......Pale Ale! The stuff of legends, the drink of Kings, the wine of the warrior - the taste - oh the taste - in my head I can remember it well...alas......the memory is fading - I need to act quickly - I need to start brewing Pale Ale based on the hops, Barley and Yeast strains of the best brew in England or the US. With time and a little investment perhaps this could turn into my next career move - teaching just doesn't quite do it for me any more.


So what next, how to bring this about in a foreign land with red tape spewing from every crevice of society. tricky - but....the answer is to beer - that is the answer.......

Back home to the Green Stuff

A mini tour during November Half Term

Cat Tien national Park lies near the border with Cambodia, 150km or 4 hours by bus and taxi from Saigon. Its one of the last few havens for wildlife in this country where anything that moves is eaten. To get to it you have to cross a swollen brown river on a rickety old foot passenger ferry boat. After wondering around for 15 minutes on the far bank, with rucksak on my back, two big bottles of water and a huge bunch of bananas, I finally found the Park office. Tucked away, the small tin roofed hut, smelling distinctly of rotting fish, seemed empty and vitually derelict. However when I called out in my western Vietnamese a creaking and scratching noise eventually revealed a dishevelled, half awake Park Ranger - I had arrived during the mid afternoon siesta...It was about 3pm! He showed me to a damp stilted hut and asked for 25 dollars per night. The bed was without linen, the fan did not work and the floor was moving - the ants are everywhere - perfect. I threw the gear on the floor and crashed on the rock hard bed. The heat was overpowering and stiffling - it was trying to rain but couldn't. I love the jungle....

crossing to the Park

After about 20 winks, I decided to go for a wonder. I got a bottle of water and my camera and headed off to see what I could find.. Back at the Park HQ, my Vietnamese was so poor and the guy behind the counter so sleepy that all I got was a small scale map and a wave of the hand. I did gather there would be a fomral guided tour later and a jeep night safari, but it seemed a little too contrived for me.


I took a look at the map and got my general bearings, pocketed it and headed off down the single lane road to find a walking track into the jungle. After about a kilomtere I saw a tiny log bridge into the undergrowth but could not see an obvious path, but, that would do. I dived straight in and I felt at home at once. This jungle feels just like all the jungles I have been in, close, eerie, damp, green and I recognised many of the species from my deep ingresses into Malay and Thai jungles. So oddly, for the first time since coming to Vietnam 4 months ago, I felt comfortable and at home.




A very big tree!!! The butressess reach
the main trunk about 5m up.
If I stood in the crevice my head would
not reach the dappled sun in this photo

I walked through the undergrowth for a few hundred meters and came across a nice track and followed this South - I had my trusty Suunto watch with me - I had bought this watch for my 40th birthday and for the last 3 years it has got me out of a few pickles and saved my skin at least twice! Here it was my free guide. South led to the river as it meadered through the park. I knew the only road in the park followed the river so this would do the job nicely and as I was on a track - and all tracks lead to Rome so to speak - I would get there eventually. I passed some huge butrressed trees on the route; these adaptations have enabled trees to scale great heights with only a shallow rooting earth layer, in order that they can compete in the 40-60m high canopy. A neat trick of nature. I also came acorss many lizards, monkeys and termites, building there own air conditioned mounds...

termites making their air conditioning

After about 3 hours, getting very sweaty and finishing off nearly all of my water, I finally broke out of the bush. I almost fell into the road which, this far out, was actually just a dirt track now. This road led to a trail head for a walking track that finally came out at the central marshlands for which this park is reknown. The marshes are a twitchers paradise and supposedly hold many crocodiles and other large beasties...

A few minutes walk and a scramble down the rocky and prickly slope to the river, I found a welcome breeze and a lovely view over the now very lively river as it cascaded down over numerous rocky steps past the flat volcanic rock I was now standing on. A great place to rest. Shade, cool breeze and natural perfection.



Natural perfection



I got my soaking wet shirt off and thought it would be good to prove I was here so here is the proof! And show off my hairy chest of course. The monkeys just carried on laughing!

No I was not holding it in!

Saigon and I need real beer

I am continuing to live a rather odd existence, nothing quite fits here...Within one week of arriving, my moped - a cute little vespa that would suit a small girl, but looks like its 3 sizes too small under me - got 3 punctures in the rear tyre. Now this in itself is not very spectacular except that one of them was caused by a house key! The roads continue to resemble rivers as the rains continue to fall in buckets.


I went for a Hash run on Sunday, it took us one hour in the coach to reach our jungle destination, and after our 2 hour run/swim, we headed back to Saigon central, the return journey took 3 hours and the muddy water was so deep in places in was coming up into the bus through the doors!

Nice!

These Hashes are cracking fun. A bunch of people from all walks of life jump on a bus each Sunday at 2pm and head out to the Vietnamese countryside. The previous day two course setters had laid a complicated paper trail for us to follow with false trails and confusing routes through jungle, swamp, rivers and villages. We all pile off the bus and run the 10km, some barely moving faster than a slow walk. But because of all the false leads and obstacles, we always seem to end up at the finish pretty much together. After a few beers and a run review stood in a circle in the pouring rain, we hopped back on the bus. Toilet stops became more frequent as the journey lengthened and more Saigon beer was consumed.


At one point I got off the bus, jumped down into half a metre of water and waded to the roadside wall. I added to the flowing liquids and turned to hop back on the bus. But it was dark, raining and the road was incredibly busy - I lost the bus! I was at least 5 beers in so was not fully appreciative of my predicament. The locals offered me a lift, they laughed and jeered as I waded along the road back and forth trying to locate the blue bus - they are all blue here!! I even got on a bus and thought my luck was in - it was full of female university students! But alas they were not heading into the city. I jumped off again and laughingly staggered around the now stationary traffic, wondering blearily how the hell I was going to get out of this one, when I decided to head back to my toilet stop and have another look. When I got back I found the bus, I had been wondering around like a lost lamb for half an hour and the bus had moved no more than 50 meters -  did I get a ridiculing when I finally got back on or what!



The BBC News is banned here, it seems they offended to ruling classes last year with some news story or other and now they can no longer broadcast onto the Vietnamese cable system. However, I have kept up with the new technologies and have invested in a Virtual Proxy Network connection. For 5 pounds per month I can now use my computer to watch all the tv channels and download movies etc etc. So I am now feeling a little more connected with the world and back home in blighty. I enjoyed watching the proms last night.

 On Friday I went to an Irish bar, Sheridan's - yep they are everywhere, and watched a live local band play Irish jigs and folk songs. Wild Rover from the mouth of a Vietnamese teenager just doesn’t seem to fit!? But they were good enough and my alcohol free night (one of many this week due to my need to slow down the excesses of recent months of nearly nonstop drinking) was a pleasant battery recharge. I met the head of music at my school and he advised me of a concert the next evening at the Saigon Opera House - sounded like a chance for a bit more culture -

So next evening I booked a ticket and arrived at the French Arts cafe for coffee with time to spare - some real relaxation. After walking a rich roast Vietnamese treacly refresher I walked across the wide open street dodging the motorbikes and taxis, towards the French built white stone opera house. About the size of a University lecture theatre but slightly nicer decorated. The white washed plaster of paris walls and musty smelling carpets added to the authentic experience of a Victorian Opera House. The chamber music was pleasant with some good soprano solos and a calmness that sent me to other places in my head.

The weekend finished with me finally getting home and crashing out in my bed exhausted from all that relaxing!

calm tranquil streets of Saigon

At work this morning we all got an email about how one of the students relatives had been killed on the roads over the weekend – a truck driver had knocked the teenage girl off her bike and stopped. The driver got out to check on the girl and seeing that she was clearly seriously injured, promptly got back in the truck and drove over her again – killing her outright. He then drove off. The reason why he did this is that if she survived he would have to pay her medical bills for the rest of her life. By killing her he only had to pay a one off cost for the funeral! Yep – everyone smiles in Vietnam!




I.m heading off on a mini tour of southern Vietnam at the weekend. I hope to do jungle, hills, villages and a few days on the beaches. Should be a laugh.

Sunny here!

In some ways the craziness continues - just modified somewhat - starting life in a new country, new job and new responsibilities is all a bit heavy, but its gone very well so far. I have only ruffled a couple of feathers to date and the department is running smoothly. I just need to slow down a bit - 60 hour weeks will not last! Term at the British International School in Saigon has begun and now the pressure seems to be a little abated, so I can get into some sort of rhythm. Overall it is a good experience and very interesting.
I got a bout of Amoebic dysentery last week so that didn't help - but the killer antibiotics have done their job....


Otherwise I am well and keeping fit at the gym. I am enjoying life in this mad and vibrant city.
Next weekend I am off to the beaches 2 hours south. Where the US army used to take R&R!!
I have visited a disabled children's centre and spent time in one of the local villages on the outskirts of the city. The rate of development here is incredible, but the differences between expat and local life can feel a little obscene. Unlike most expats I live away from the white ghetto's. I live on the 7th floor of an apartment block overlooking the Saigon Zoo, I wake each morning to the sounds of elephant (of which I can see 4 from our balcony), hippos and tropical birds - its a wonderful alarm call - pity its at 5.30am!!

This is Nelly - even though its a big boy - and that's my apartment behind him!

The block is in the heart of typical modern Saigon, with an eclectic mix of old, new and new but looks old! everything from a fresh market to local beer stalls crowd the streets. The mopeds whizz by in seeming chaos, but rarely does anyone come to harm at these low speeds. The children play in the streets as they would have done in the villages of 20 years ago - often bare foot and very very loudly! The streets are only just tarmac covered as the floods come and go daily destroying any smooth surfaces. Riding a motorbike through these flash floods really is an art form that I am getting used to. I have already worked out that I need to leave my smart shoes at work so they don't get destroyed and I travel each day wearing rubber sandals. When it rains here it really honestly does. I have been about a bit and seen some downpours in my time, but these quite honestly take the biscuit. Not only are they extreme in their volume, but the winds pick up under the storm clouds and the rain then goes horizontal! It was so bad one day the rain was coming into the bedroom via a 2 metre deep balcony! I had left the windows open for fresh air but what I got was fresh water.


Another rather odd coincidence is that I am also overlooking one of the many canals in the city. Having just left the UK canal system this does bring home reminiscences. However, this canal is black - dark black, and sometimes smells dark black too - if you can imagine that. But its alive - people fish from it and live on boats which ply up and down carrying sand and provisions from the country. The canal is directly connected to the tidal Saigon River about 1km away, so when the tide drops, the black silt left behind spawns an array of unpleasant mangrove life. Thank goodness I am on the 7th floor, just above tree height and therefore just above the height of most of the insect life!


Its all very very interesting and perhaps the picture I paint is too bleak. Yesterday I went to the Park Hyatt for a smoothie, one of the very many 5 star hotels in the city. It was wonderful and the atmosphere a haven of peace and luxury.  On the way home I stopped at a shoemaker to have hand made shoes made, he is an 80 year old man who still cobbles (is that a word) for specialist feet. And yes size 10's are big here and specialist - so I have to have some specially made...not overly cheap either, but a rarity and a pleasure to do business with such a traditional character of a Saigon now nearly past.


Today, after waking up late I made a fresh fruit juice from mango and pomello (a large sweet grapefruit style fruit) and decided to write to a blog to keep everyone informed of how its all going. Later I am going to my gym by the river which is set in palm groves and around a pool. Its where my gym is. I am going to do some iron pumping then read a book on how hops made the empire!!!




The Village Gym and pool! Life's tough here! But the beer is rubbish.....


Oh and then I shall pick up my shoes whilst trying to avoid the downpours!


SO all in all very exciting and well worth doing. I don't miss the boat very much at the moment, but I still don't regret taking that year out.