Wednesday 20th March
So what
have I been doing, while Pete antifouls in the rain? Well, working!
And
darting about spending money. I have got
a prescription from my doctor, for 6 months worth of antimalarial doxycycline- now
there is a thrilling way to spend my $$$s!!
Much more
thrilling is my new camera, a glorious looking Canon, with a big zoom
lens. Well big compared to what I have
now, on my iPhone 5…I have also bought a very cheap underwater camera, just in
case it will allow me to take fabulous shots of my fishy friends in the South
Pacific.
And I
finally managed to buy my ukulele, after much deliberation and anxiety. I found a very nice little music shop,
MacFies. (Go there! It is a delightful shop!) In some of the other places I was made to feel
so very useless, when I asked if they thought I would be able to learn. One shop manager looked me up and down,
sighed, and said, “It would take you a VERY long time. LOTS of hours,” in very doubting tones. Chrystal, in MacFies, on the other hand, couldn’t
have been more encouraging.
With the
assistance of a lurking oldcodger whose seemed to know what he was talking
about, I finally settled on a particularly beautiful pale wooden tenor ukulele,
quite a lot bigger than the normal ones.
Chrystal played it for me and it did sound totally charming; it possibly
won’t sound totally charming in my hands, not until I have spent hours and
HOURS…LOTS of hours… Oldcodger beamed
happily “(He doesn’t actually work here”, whispered Chrystal,) and invited me
to free lessons on Tuesdays in Brisbane Street.
I said I would probably be able to come for one, maybe two lessons, and
that during that time I expect him to teach me EVERYTHING I need to know.
Sapa Saga continues 2008
On our
first afternoon Pete and I went for an unaccompanied trek down to Cat Cat
Village. It was only about 4 kilometres,
but it was extremely hot, and steep. So
beautiful, descending through the terraced rice paddies. All the way down the path we met little black
pigs, barebum children, chickens. At the
bottom of the track there was a beautiful waterfall on the confluence of two
little wild rivers, with an ingenious waterwheel. As it turned it gathered water in bamboo
pipes which somehow got the whole thing turning a lathe on which there was a
pounding instrument, for pulverising rice into rice flour. It started to pour, so we got into shelter at
the wheel. We were soon joined by four
little Hmong girls, who were scampering about in slippery plastic sandals. I couldn’t believe how nimble they were; I
was in fear of plunging to my death on the steep rocky track in my firm German
Ecco sandals, and there they were, flying along in shiny plastic footwear. They were one big giggle, seemingly oblivious
to us as we stood dripping and steaming.
But no…they weren’t oblivious; they suddenly turned and pulled out
little bags of Hmong knickety knackeries - “Buy buy!” they shouted. They weren’t in the least put out that we
weren’t buying and wheeled off like a flock of little birds. We could hear beautiful music coming from
what looked like a monastery on the other side of the river. Monks chanting, I thought, how romantic and
beautiful! But no…it was a PA system,
and some shops selling little embroidered hats and dresses…. We started to walk
back up the valley; it was a daunting task, SO hot and steep. But no need to walk; this is Vietnam, there
were young men on motorbikes ready to carry us back up the hill to our lovely
hotel. Bliss! When we got back we found that Kerry and Rina
had also walked to the village, while we were looking at the market. They too had been more than pleased to climb
onto the back of the waiting motorbikes…
“Shower,
beer, rest!” said Pete as we walked back into Cat Cat View Hotel. We were having trouble getting our washing to
dry, so he said I was doing mine all WRONG. I needed to try his very special wring and FLICK method. He demonstrated this to me with great vigour,
and said, confidently, “Now all the moisture has been removed from my
t-shirt. It will be dry within hours.” It wasn’t… In fact it was still as sopping
wet as my non-flicked one. None of this
mattered; we could just as easily have worn drippy wet clothes and they would
have dried very quickly on our hot bodies, especially if we were walking up and
down valley paths…
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