20.2.13

Towns vs Countryside


My journey has left me with fond memories of both cities and the wilderness, despite my natural inclination towards the countryside. Of course every city is different, but you really do get a distinct vibe from each one, especially when you visit them in relatively quick succession. I remember my journey from the airport into a brooding Bangkok amidst a huge thunderstorm, to the bustle and throng of backpacker central – Khao San Road – was full of anticipation to get the trip underway, to get out of the city and into the peaceful Laos countryside. Returning there to fly home, nearly 3 months later I felt none of the apprehension or adrenaline rush of such a busy, seedy place.

Arriving in Hanoi after spending a three weeks in sleepy, chilled Laos was a massive shock to the system. The sheer volume of motorbikes, people and pollution was overwhelming and I had to get out, leaving the next day to spend a few days in the mountain town of Sapa. When I returned a few days later, again it felt more normal. I figured out how to cross the road without nearly dying (you just walk out and keep walking) and found some good places to eat. I met some cool students in the park, found out that the apparent chaos of the traffic makes much more sense from the back of a motorbike and came to love the crumbling maze of old town; all crowded and hectic but with so much life and vibrancy.

Saigon came with similar problems, but by now I was used to them. It was more like a European capital city, all skyscrapers, steel and plate glass with huge areas of parkland rather than a mass of ramshackle apartments and ancient temples as in Hanoi. More friendly students, great food and nightlife though. Almost like London in its vast sprawl, you could tell it had been there growing for centuries, slowly mutating over the years, risen up from the earth and banks of the river…

Phnom Penh had a totally different feel. In contrast to its wealthier neighbours, this capital city felt more rundown and dilapidated, the recent years of conflict more apparent. Especially in its people: the old, few as they were looked sad and worn down, the young seemed eager but in a kind of hungry, desperate way, as though the taste of more prosperous times had sparked an appetite for more, but they were aware of how far away they were from a truly comfortable life. In the 24 hours before I arrived, three people had warned me to watch my back when walking around.

I could go on and on about how I love the outdoors (and I do) and all the various experiences I had outside of cities: cycling round rural islands on a huge river, boat trips up and down jungle rivers, trekking in the rainforest, hiking in the mountains or spending a day with elephants in Cambodian backwoods. But I won’t. Instead I’ll leave you with a quote that I read in ‘Zen and the Art of Motorcycle Maintenance’ by Robert Pirsig (a great book for travelling by the way). But before that, to sum up I’ll say that you can judge a country by whatever standards you want, but you don’t get the full flavour without seeing the cities and the wilderness and everything they contain.

So –

“A finely tempered nature longs to escape from his noisy cramped surroundings into the silence of the high mountains where the eye ranges freely through the still pure air and fondly traces out the restful contours apparently built for eternity...”
      - A. Einstein

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