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
No comments:
Post a Comment