vaga #1/13 tours

Part XIII

I AM NOT A Traveller. I AM A VAGABOND, WITHOUT ITINERARIES, WITHOUT THE OBLIGATION TO KNOW ANYTHING, AND I GO WHERE THE WIND TAKES ME

Today the other history sheets accompany us

From the outset, I have hated tours, but there are times there is no other way to visit something special like some national parks and temples are too complicated to get there. The first reason I do not like tours is that I have always walked at my own pace slowly and always spaced out. I have definitely got different timing to the tourists. I have taken them at other times, and it has caused me more troubles than not  when I have taken them. In over a year of wandering around, I have only taken three, plus one with Rafa, alone and one a must to see the elephants in Chitwan, Nepal. One, to a national park in Vietnam, and it was the only one that was pleasant. Without being disappointed, I also sat next to an older woman than me, an Irishwoman. We started a fascinating conversation beyond, “where do you come from, where are you going” Where are you from, and how long have you been here? I HATE THOSE CONVERSATIONS, and I will avoid them at all costs. This tour was fun because it was a trek in the park, and a medium physical fitness was required. I took the tour anyway, me, in a  medium physical condition? HAHA, I can't be any further from physical fitness, But I had already arrived there. I took a bus, especially since it was far away, and deep in the country in the country, close to the border of Laos. I took the tour anyway. I would do my best effort. I don’t know how, but I will. Leaving from the hotel they took me to town on a motorcycle and from there it was a minivan to the park which is an hour away. When I got into the van there were about five tourists "sub thirty" is how I call them, I mean they were no older than thirty years old. As they entered the minivan they looked at me with disapproval. Of course, this old woman is going to screw up our trekking, she is going to slow us down, she is going to slow us down since they are fit and eager to show it, and I was a hindrance to them. With my head held high, I didn't show insecurity about it, but I was somewhat worried. The van left and went to look for someone at a hotel and MY SALVATION ARRIVED I laughed to myself, because a huge man came in, he was about 65 years old at least, HA HA HA take the "sub thirty" now we are going trekking at another speed, the faces of the "sub thirties" fell HA HA HA, I felt like an agile sportswoman next to him, he was the Irish woman's husband. From there I relaxed HA HA HA in the trekking there were parts of going up and down complicated by the rocks, but the guide realising that it was difficult for me, quietly so as not to damage my pride, he sent me an assistant to help me, taking my hand in each difficult area and at times they were many. That saving hand took a good tip, I did not show my incompetence. The fat man, with his red Irish face even redder, was passed by two helpers and yes, fate HA HA HA, in any case, it was the most pleasant trek and I thoroughly enjoyed it for all the adventures we went through, Even swimming inside a cave and swimming 500m to the other side, there will be photos and more details because it's worth it. But I can't be part of the herd anyway, already walking back a motorcycle from the park passes and I "hitched a ride"  the "sub thirty" found it so unusual to go trekking and Going back on a motorcycle that they even took a picture of me, you have to be very boring to take a picture of the situation.

Another thing that makes me throw a tantrum is that when you get on the minivan and the guide in charge first asks everyone where they come from and to tell them something about their trip, I HATE IT and you have no choice, I say Chile, nor do they know where Chile is and their faces at being caught out are notorious, and therefore it avoids future conversations because they don't even know what language I speak, of course, the Germans, Americans, French come out easily, and there are many of them. What do I tell them when they ask me.? Say something about my trip ... what do I say?, ...... only when I said that I had been in Vietnam for more than 2 months, was there a massive exclamation,   more than two months  … The Germans are given 15 days. And the guides are generally very young, and they handle English very well, they try to be  funny and make jokes all the time, they do not stop talking. On the return trip you are asked to give a good review on the tour page, with their name, and you have to take out a piece of paper, phone and pencil to write down the name of the page, everyone obeys, and I don’t. To finish off the tour

 is the group photo….…. It will be clear that I disappeared instantly.

During one of the three tours, at lunchtime, I had time, so I went for a walk, it was a village in the jungle, it was very, very beautiful, Me again, on my own time was late when I arrived back at the lunch place, that is not a restaurant but families who serve in their homes, it was all good and delicious Vietnamese food. There was no one in the place, they had left, it was necessary for me to run back to where we had left the boat The people in the houses that all lived outside and were very poor, I asked them with hand gestures if the tour group had passed by "Tourist Group here “with their own gestures hands, and they looked at me and smiled, I was already sweating because the boat was one km from lunch. I decided to return to the restaurant I was even more desperate to not miss the boat and thinking how I could get back to Saigon, IMPOSSIBLE, I was lost in the Mekong Delta nobody was in the restaurant, I had fucked up, I had missed the boat, … … there were a few tourists having lunch and I tried to see if I could recognise if they were from my group, but after doubting, they were, I asked a boy from the restaurant what happened to my group, and he told me that they went the other way, but that they will come back ……… deep breaths I can get back to Saigon.

The obligatory tour of the elephants only Rafa and me … UNBEATABLE around there he would say to me “sit down and listen to me” with a voice of authority. I wanted to take photos, we were in an ethnic village and their houses were made of clay with reeds, they were beautiful in my eyes and my phone, all I wanted was to photograph them and enjoy the environment, DO NOT FUCKING TELL ME WHAT TO DO, I want to contemplate those images and not sit and listen to your story …………  I did not leave a tip

And I end with my first traumatic tour from Hanoi to the most famous pagoda in Vietnam, in a vast cave. In the van, they gave the same boring lectures and repeated all the same things and like the last one, the guide had no idea where Chile was. So he dodged me all the time, no problem—an hour and a half by bus and then about 45 minutes by boat upriver. We had lunch, and he said everyone has their own free time, and we had to meet back there at 5 o'clock. I had already spent the New Year festivities in three countries, since each one has its date, depending on the moon. The New Year is religious to it; it is not about changing a digit in the calendar like the West, neither is there any champagne, parties, nor dancing. It is sacred, a pilgrimage to the most relevant pagodas, and they come from all over Vietnam en masse. Well, that's how it felt to me. There was the option of taking a cable car because it was at the top of a steep hill or walking up the mountain for about 45 minutes. Obviously, I walked and saw everything, it was full of stalls selling everything, from water, clothes, food, and toys. Later when I crossed into the sacred area, there it was a door with a religious symbol, you could only sell religion-related things. It was full of people going up, the cable car was expensive. Approaching the cave, the path narrowed, it was like a procession to the Virgin de los Vasquez, crushed side by side, all literally stuck together and sweating. Instead of 45 minutes, it was close to 2 hours and without being able to return to the last part because it was a completely different exit, you cannot go up and down it, you have to keep on going. It was a tight squeeze with no way out, only forwards. We had already arrived in amongst the crowds at the cavern, it was huge with several images of Buddha and a large one carved in the same rock, which is what gives it its importance. The pagoda was a real pit, there were none of the architectures and mystics of the others,  It was only a huge cave, boring, although I have plenty of time I didn’t want to spend it jammed against other people. Stuffed into a small space, and the humidity was overwhelming, everything was  unpleasant…….

going down there was enough space without feeling squished but look at the time: 4.30, the 45-minute climb  had taken 2 hours, the extra time disappeared, so I ran, the stone steps that were totally irregular, short, wide and very thin, hollowed out, of variable heights, it is disorderly, always irregular, going up it does not matter but going down is hell, and I was in a hurry half running, BAD and very apprehensive about falling, perspiring from stress, and the weather, telling myself I will not arrive on time, it would be impossible to return to Hanoi alone, I perspired and perspired, I could not run, but was still in a hurry people encouraged me bypassing me like in a marathon, until a woman of about 30 years old, in a tunic, she was a parishioner and out of the blue, she grabbed my upper arm and marched me down quickly , , . I couldn’t believe it, she was great and held me, and we went FAST while at the same time  feeling secure that I wouldn’t fall. She didn’t speak a word of English, and she shouted to everyone to clear a path for us. Half an hour later, she let me go, so I could run on flatter land on my own. I thanked her with my hands in the air. I was so grateful to her.  

I arrived at around 5-25pm, I was 25 minutes late, at the meeting point. and the first thing they asked me was why I was so red. I didn't miss the tour, and not only that, but I returned to Hanoi. Later I learned that the guides are  trained to never leave a passenger, it was my first tour, UNFORGETTABLE The other thing I learned to recognise a character on the tour with something distinctive, a hat, a strong coloured shirt and to always follow him or look for him in the crowd, surely he will be more attentive than me in not separating from the group.

and I ended up on that tour when I got back on the boat, the group was crushed together with, there were many people already returning, and it was  chaotic with so many boats and I couldn't crouch down and spacing out I saw a group of locals gathered by the river and I went to see what was happening, they were praying what they call “chanting”, it is like singing in a low voice and one was throwing small snakes into the river, much later I associated it with Thanksgiving in Myanmar, to return or free the animals in an act of gratitude. None of my group found out, it was a very special scene. Back in the boat, I sat at the end and the women, who was rowing was going from one boat, she went from boat to boat and when she reached ours and in that instability, I passed her my hand so that she would lean on me Obviously she was moved that a tourist had given her a hand. She took off her conical hat and gave it to me, she got me to understand that she wanted me to write something inside the hat. There were to other phrases written in Vietnamese, in the hat. I took out a pen, and I wrote, Greetings from Chile, in Spanish. I returned the hat, and she put it back on her head. It was an act of thanks for my help. Nobody in the boat was aware of what had occurred.

 puuff I hate tours ...

Each chapter is carefully designed in its visual aspect, each photo is edited one by one and especially the compositions of art photos, so I suggest viewing them on the computer for better appreciation.