Weasel Coffee Anyone?

The humidity is suffocating as we ooze through the streets of Hanoi’s Old Quarter. To our surprise, every shop we pass sells nothing but exhaust pipes. We pass Silk Street to our left, Zip Street to our right, Broom Street, Basket Street, Flip Flop Street – you name it and there is a whole street of people selling it.

It was not easy to extract ourselves from our luxurious bed at the Hanoi Backpackers’ Hostel (www.hanoibackpackershostel.com) this morning, a bargain at just £11 for a double room. But after a hearty breakfast of fresh French bread, jams, Vegemite and coffee and we are ready to go.

Today we are on the search for ‘Weasel Shit Coffee’. A legend amongst travellers, this Vietnamese luxury is said to be made from coffee beans that have been passed through the bowels of a weasel. In reality the coffee cherries are fed to a civet. When the beans pop out the other end they are cleaned, roasted and ground into this oh so appetizing beverage. A delicacy not to be missed. I think.

Coming to the edge of the old town, we join a throng of tourists by the shores of Hoan Kiem Lake. The Turtle Pagoda stands majestically at its centre, ignored by the majority of visitors who are buying cheap souvenirs and postcards from the stalls that spread out over the shores. Across the water we can see the colonial style buildings of the French Quarter, a reminder of the occupiers who dwelt here from the mid 19th Century right up until 1954. Old men enjoy a quiet game of chess in the leafy shade. They look as though they haven’t moved from their seats for hundreds of years.

Back on the search, we discover Football Street. Each little roadside shop has its doors wide open, some with huge TV’s showing premiership football, others crammed with PlayStations and teenagers playing Pro-evolution Soccer. We pull up two tiny plastic stools at a bar where Arsenal v Chelsea is just kicking off. The cool evening air soothes our hot skin. A group of street sweepers, all women, sit down with us and offer me some tea. They talk at me and I talk at them. We don’t understand a word but it doesn’t seem important.

The sun is all but gone, our feet are tired and heads fuzzy from Ha Noi Beer. We approach a jaded looking café and to our delight see a sign that exclaims, “Trung Nguyen, Weasel Shit Coffee sold here!” The drinks placed before us resemble Greek coffee, thick and dark. It is awful, like sweet tar. The waiter grins at us in that lovely Vietnamese way. “Very nice. You like?” He asks. “Delicious,” we both agree.

Exhausted, we climb wearily into the back of a pedicab that sails gently through the deserted midnight streets to our bed. We will sleep well tonight, ready for another adventure tomorrow.

Read 'Weasel Coffee Anyone?' as published by the Guardian.

Published: The Guardian Travel, 19/09/09, page 4.

Sawadee Ka!

Laemson Beach, Koh Phangan, Thailand

Laemson is breathtaking. With only one resort of huts lining the sands it almost feels like a private beach. Palm trees shade the soft white sand and the blue green sea stretches out, barely rippling, to infinity.

Each hut sits right on the beach and has two hammocks on the porch. Every night I lie, pineapple smoothie in hand, watching the most amazing fork lightening ripping through the dark clouds that line the horizon. Above shines the brightest moon I have ever seen. The clouds get closer and closer, sometimes they pass by, other times they arrive right overhead bringing with them the most spectacular thunder and lightening I have ever experienced. It sounds like bombs going off on the roof.

The family-run resort offers a restaurant that serves delicious home made Thai food. It is like living in their house. You walk through the living room (where there is often someone doing karaoke or watching television) and into their kitchen to place your order. On one day all the guests were invited to join a birthday karaoke party of one of the children. Two bold Irish men joined the mother to sing in what they believed to be Thai!

The sea is as hot as a bath in the shallows but becomes cool enough to soothe my pink skin further out. There is an abundance of life in the water so it is a bit slimy under foot until you get far enough out to swim but it is worth it for the incredible snorkeling and reef walking that is possible only metres from the shore.

The island is rich with vegetation. Forests of palm trees cover the slopes to the shore. Dense jungle crowds the centre of the island with giant banana trees, yucca plants and ferns. Vines creep over and around everything. Weird and wonderful fruit hangs from almost every branch, the spiky mass of the durian fruit seeming to defy gravity. Climbing plants adorned with purple, peach and cream flowers shine in the undergrowth wherever you lay your eyes.

Birdsong fills the air from sunrise to sunset. Telephone, dinosaur and robot noises compete with the delicate whistles of smaller birds and the calls of sea eagles. As the evening sets in geckos squeak and chatter, cockroaches and giant bees buzz angrily. There are endless noises, the performers I cannot even begin to identify.

If you are lucky you could catch a glimpse of a giant monitor lizard. I will have to go back soon to look for one of those…

19/01/09