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When I wasn’t living out my Project Runway dream, Brian and I were enjoying walking through this romantic city and finding new cafes and bars to enjoy an ice milk coffee or cold beer. I know I keep saying this but Hoi An truly felt like we were walking the streets of Provence. With it’s faded mustard colored buildings, rustic walls blanketed in vibrant bougainvillea, and picturesque bicycles adorned with baskets, it took everything in me not to skip down the narrow streets singing “Bonjour!” I kept waiting for plump french men standing in the doorway of their bakeries to toss baguettes into my apron (PS. Is anyone else as excited for Beauty and the Beast as I am?!).
After a couple days in Hanoi we decided to venture up north to the land of rice fields and friendship bracelets. Everyone had positive things to say about this tranquil farming region and we were excited to explore. We took our first (and sadly our last) overnight train and were pleasantly surprised at how comfortable our four berth room was, especially because we booked the “local” train. Things were looking up until I noticed a baby bottle on the table. In a room fit for only four, we slept six. We were asked to move to the top bunk so it would be easier for the children (yes, not child, children) to reach the bottom bunks. It really did end up being fine once our ears got used to the high pitched sing songy music blaring from everyone’s iPads. Thankfully, Brian and I downloaded Arrival before the train so we were able to tune it all out (PS. Arrival was SO good! You should definitely watch it if you haven’t already!). After the movie, I helped the kids with their ABC’s and we all sang together before finally falling asleep.
Hanoi hit us hard the second we ventured into the old quarter. I’m talking Tyson vs Holyfield, and not the new school, bite your ear off Tyson. We’re talking old school “I’ll end your life” Mike Tyson. (PS. I don’t know what got me on this whole analogy. I don’t even watch fights). We were desperate for a shower and showed up to our hotel, Camel City, beat up and defeated. Defeat turned into complete desperation when the sweet Vietnamese man told us they regretfully didn’t have a room for us (even though we had a confirmation) and said he rebooked us at another hotel across the street. Noticing a trend here? Why does this seem to always happen to us? Why do we even take the time to book in advance?
So there we were. In Luang Prabang (again) after a great couple (drunk) days in Vang Vieng and we were faced with two options. first: take an easy, one hour, pain free flight from Luang Prabang to Hanoi for $170 each. The second: take a 24 hour sleeper bus for $40 each. We (read: Brian), chose the latter. Of course. Traveling for an extended period of time does lend itself to longer travel days. And since we have the luxury (time) to take a couple days to get from point A to point B, why not choose the longer, cheaper option. Right? Wrong. Twenty four hours. On one bus? This definitely sounded like a recipe for disaster.
After spending a few days in Luang Prabang, we finally made the tough decision to skip out on southern Laos. As much as we wanted to explore the beautiful 4,000 islands and motorbike around the Tha Khaek Loop for three nights, we realized something that until this point, had been extremely difficult for me to grasp: we can’t do everything. Somehow the three years it took to save, plan, and dream up this trip was quickly dwindling away and we are down to three months before (hopefully) settling down in France. HOW?! How can something feel like it it happened a lifetime ago but also like it was just yesterday.
Even though saw hundreds of elephants on safari in Zambia, I still wanted to be up close and personal with one in SE Asia. The problem was, how to pick the right elephant sanctuary.
We spent a month in Thailand and after hours of research, there was only one elephant sanctuary I felt comfortable visiting, but sadly they didn’t have any availability (for the record it was Elephant Nature Park, but even this one I wasn’t 100% sold on). They are one of the few that advertise no riding and still the reviews I read were mainly from tourist who were disappointed that they didn’t get to ride. This was beyond frustrating to read.
Brian and I have been really fortunate that for the last eight months of travel, including two months in India, neither of us have gotten sick. We knew it was bound to happen, but there was always this tiny part of me that thought, “hey, maybe we’ll make it the whole 12 months!” WRONG!
A one hour river cruise up the Nam Ou was how it was described to us. What followed was two hours of complete chaos while we sat thirty five people deep in a questionable boat that most definitely shouldn’t have been holding more than ten of us, nonetheless, floating. And I can’t forget to mention the two small children that were sitting in my lap for the latter half of the ride. It was, to date, the most uncomfortable means of travel we had experienced. Or so I thought.
Our experience in the beautiful north Loatian town of Nong Khiaw. It’s not to be missed! What to do, and where we stayed.
Truth be told, I didn’t know a thing about Dalat. It most likely wouldn’t even have been on our radar if it wasn’t for my good friend Karia. She and her fiancé had just returned from a trip to Vietnam and told us how much they loved Dalat, and more specifically (and also importantly) how much they loved Mr. Rot’s Secret Tour. This is the exact text Karia sent me, and it was enough to add Dalat to our Vietnam itinerary: