Coming soon...

Sapa, trekking with the Hmong hill tribes, Singpore Stopover round 2, and a slideshow of the remaining 532 photos! We know you can't wait.

Day 10: Hoi An - Marble Mountain - Danang- Hanoi - Sapa

Taxis, planes and trains. We rely on all of them to day to transport us from central to northern Vietnam.

As usual the day starts with coffee on An Huy's terrace. This is now Kari's favorite thing to do here. Once again, the daily parade of vendors making their way to market commences.

Herb's new favorite thing is noodles for breakfast. He indulges his daily noodle habit on last time at the stand across the street.

After breakfast, the tailors, two young women, from Bebe arrive right on schedule via motobike delivering Herb's new pair of shorts. He ordered them at 8pm last night. They fit perfect.

Kari takes time for one last tour through Hoi An's riverside market. Fish, seafood, an endless variety of herbs and greens, caged chickens, ducks, geese, vegetables, pots and pans, clothing, silk scarves, and tacky souvenirs. It's all here along with people, bicycles, and motobikes weaving their way through the crowd. All in search of the day's freshest bargain to pack home in their market basket or their suitcase.

The market is a beautiful place. On our first visits, we only saw the surface, the crowds, the ugly blue tarps covering make-shift market stands from the constant rain, and the endless hawkers calling "hello", "you buy something?". But now, after a few days, the place starts to work on you. Walking quietly, alone through the market, its true colors unfold in nooks and crannies where old Hoi An women in third-world-squat, chew on betel nuts, smoke cigs and chat with their neighbors. Excited crowds gather on the docks behind the market clammoring to buy fish from boats arriving with the days catch. Colors, textures, aromas, noises and flavors that make up Vietnam. When you take the time to immerse yourself in it completely, its charm is obvious.

It's time to leave Hoi An. We say our goodbyes and thank yous to the kind folks at An Huy Hotel. They've taken such good care of us with restaurant recommendations ("with no tourists"), charging our lame camera battery, and answering all our dumb questions about their lovely country. They run a great little hotel that I would recommend to anyone visiting Hoi An.

Our taxi driver arrives for the trip to Danang airport and our flight to Hanoi. He suggests making a brief stop at Marble Mountain "for a view". We soon learn that he did not mean a view of the mountains, but a visit to a marble factory -- of course. There is way too much marble in this factory alone to be coming out of the local mountains. They're just not that big. We've read that most of it is imported from China to supply the shops that line the streets surrounding Marble Mountain. But there is some marble carving going on and an impressive display of marble statues large and small including Jesus, the Virgin Mary, Buddha in his many forms, naked women, dragons and more. On the way out, we manage to catch a fleeting glimpse of the small but pretty Marble Mountains dotted with pagodas and tourists.

Upon arrival at Danang Airport, we find out our Vietnam Airlines flight is delayed for one hour. We pass the time in the small, stuffy airport drinking Tiger Beer and weird orange soda, watching people arriving and departing and old Abba videos on television (?).

When we finally take off it's a quick, one hour hop back to Hanoi.

We arrive back in Hanoi at rush hour. Although one could say it always seems like rush hour in Hanoi, late afternoon is even busier than normal. We taxi to the Army Hotel and drop bags. Our night train to Sapa leaves at 9:30pm. This leaves us with a few hours free time. Herb's on a mission to find a wine shop called Bacchus that he spied from the taxi as we were leaving Hanoi a few days ago. It's the only wine shop we've seen in the entire country. He wants that traditional train meal: a bottle of wine, bread and cheese. The elusive Bacchus turns out to be a wine bar which is closed. But we stumble upon a small charcuterie in the French Quarter where we manage to find French Bordeaux, bread and a bit of real cheese. Yes, real cheese! Gouda to be exact. Until now, the only cheese (can you call it that?) we've seen is La Vache Qui Rit (I think it's processed cheese spread). Like the sweetened condensed milk the Vietnamese use in their coffee, we can only guess that its popularity has a direct correlation to its shelf-life in a hot, tropical environment. Aha! That's why you always see La Vache Qui Rit in Asian markets at home. It must be the stuff Vietnamese taste memories are made of.

We duck into a cute little cafe for tea and a beer and engage the proprietor in a lively conversation about the United States and where we're from. Maps are drawn of New York, Chicago and Cleveland (in between by the big lake). Then the illustrated conversation turns to Texas and stick figures of cowboys. Very funny.

Evening falls and we taxi to the Hanoi train station. It's a circus. Herb loves it. He loves trains and train stations (more than Kari realized). Kari is just confused. Touts everywhere, a woman with a basket of bread on her head, kids selling postcards, porter services, and god-knows what else to dazed looking travelers trying to find their train. There are like 40 tracks. Locals and tourists are all rushing around. We can't find any information telling us where we should go. Herb just starts wandering. Somehow we manage to find our train -- track number 6, car number 11. There is some sort of electrical problem and cars are shuffled. Despite all that, we depart on time.

We travel in comfort in our 1st class soft sleeper. We paid for the extra berths so we have the sleeper to ourselves. As the train pulls slowly out of Hanoi, it crosses the Red River, and picks up its pace a bit as we pass by ramshackle houses, factories, glowing steel mills and other anonymous industrial buildings. A few sips of wine and the clickety clack of the train starts lolling us off to sleep. Not a great sleep but comfortable after we insert the earplugs.

Day 9: Hoi An - China Beach - Cam Nam Island

MOTOBIKE RIDE FOR NOODLES>>>MEASUREMENTS

HERB'S NEW GIRLFRIEND>>>THE KITCHEN AT BALE WELL

H&K AT CHINA BEACH>>>BIKE RIDE

We wake at 5am this morning to the Voice of Vietnam blaring in the street. The power is out. We learn later this morning that they were announcing the power outage and waking people up for work.

After breakfast, Herb returns to our room sporting a helmut and a big smile. He's off with the hotel manager on motobike in search of more noodles, the local Pho Ga (chicken noodle soup) to be exact.

Kari is off to visit local tailors. Time to do some shopping.

We meet up later at the tailor and order up copies of our favorite linen pants. I throw in a blouse too.

In need of more caffeine, we make a mid-morning stop at Trung Nguyen, an al fresco, thatched-roof cafe with killer Vietnamese coffee. It's the Viet version of Starbucks. They are everywhere.

We visit Bebe and order up another pair of pants in lime green raw silk. We finish up at the cobbler where Herb picks up his custom sneakers in green with a red star Vietnamese flag style. Very nice. He orders a matching wallet too. The duck tape wallet I gave him for Christmas two years ago is falling apart. Time to go.

We lunch at Bale Well, and enjoy one of the best meals yet. Seated in an alley at little red stools, the plates just start arriving: rice flour crepes, spring rolls, satay, kimchee, cucumber and banana flower, fresh herbs and greens, and bottomless bowls of peanut sauce. The owner leads a quick lesson in the art of rolling everything up in little rice paper wrappers. We wash it down with 333. Delicious!

After lunch, it's time for a bike ride. Herb is feeling "over-touted". The constant selling does get to you. "You have look inside my shop?" "You buy something?" We need a break from the over-zealous, in-your-face capitalism of Hoi An central.

We set off to explore Cam Nam Island by bike and are blown away just witnessing everyday life on a spring afternoon. We start out on a sandy trail next to the Perfume River. It's quiet over here. The trail veres inland and we wind through tiny streets lined with thatched-roof homes, vegetable gardens, water buffalo, cows, pigs, dogs, kids playing in the schoolyard, banh mi stands and the occasional corner bar and billiard table filled with men young and old. Everyone smiles at us and says "hello" in that now familiar Hoi An tone. The air is scented with incense from living room shrines and Vietnamese music fills the streets -- someone has cranked their dial to 11. It's the perfect soundtrack. We're starting to understand why this place is special.

We return back through town and head for the Cao Dai Beach Road. Traffic is crazy on this side of town and on bicycle its even more, shall I say, thrilling. We suck a lot of fumes but arrive safely at China Beach. The main beach is full of more touts trying to sell stuff. We keep riding, past one new resort development after another and finally stumble upon an untouched stretch of sandy dunes leading to an undeveloped beach. We walk the bikes through scrubby sand dunes and dip our toes in the South China Sea. This is the infamous China Beach. A beautiful, white sand beach with palm trees. The water is sudsy and warm. We understand why developers want to build all these resorts. It's sad though. They're fencing off the entire beach. By the time they're done, will the locals even have access to their own beach?

On the way back we meet a German traveller. She's curious how we feel about being in Vietnam because of the war. Thoughts of war do sort of hang out there in the back of your mind. There's a lot to comprehend and process. I'm sure it colors our view of things here. But no one here talks about it. Certainly none of the Vietnamese people we've met. Most of them probably weren't even born.

We bike back to An Huy and head for the tailor to pick up clothes and have a late dinner at Hai San, owned by a Swedish-Vietnamese couple.

The day ends with a short but fun motobike ride back to the hotel through the dark, riverside market stalls. Nice.

Day 8: Hoi An

THE ICEMAN>>>EN ROUTE TO MY SON
CHAM RUINS AT MY SON>>>CHAM LINGAM
HERB AND SILK WORM COCOONS>>>DINNER AT QUAN NAHN

It's 7am on the terrace at the An Huy hotel. The loudspeaker on the telephone pole out front just sputtered and crackled to life. The Voice of Vietnam announces the news of the day -- along with some interesting musical choices. This happens at least twice a day throughout the entire country. We didn't notice it so much in Hanoi because it's so noisy. But here, you can't miss it. It's totally surreal. We can't tell if anyone is really listening to it or not. Ly, who owns the hotel, asked if we had the same thing in our country. We just said no.

Now the garbage trucks are coming around. You can hear them coming because they play music, strange Asian electronic music. Kind of like the ice cream truck. It's cute.

The meat guy just rode by again on his 3-wheeled bicycle loaded with what looks like beef and pork. The raw flesh jiggles with every bump he hits. He just turned and smiled at us watching him in amazement. Next it's a motobike laden with cute, white ducks -- alive and bobbing around on their way to market. And then, the ice man carrying blocks of ice to market. Amazing!

It's raining again today so we spend a relaxing morning watching the traffic go by, sending email, and reading. Oh and of course Herb is eating noodles at his usual corner spot. Still no deal though. She insists on charging him 25,000VND, which has the hotel staff laughing.

On the way to lunch, I stop into a shoe shop and leave with two pairs of cute summer sandals on order. They'll be ready at 5pm today. It takes longer for our laundry to be washed than it does to make shoes! How weird is that? The laundry won't be done until tomorrow because "the weather is bad", we were told. I think that means they dry the clothes on a clothesline and it's been raining.

We lunch at White Sails Seafood restaurant, recommended by Ly at the hotel. We try 333, "bababa" beer from Saigon and those fantastic Vietnamese peanuts. Here they come with salt and sugar on them. Tasty. Good prawn noodles too. We we were the only customers. Not sure why. We told Ly we didn't want to eat where the tourists eat but this is a little too quiet.

This afternoon, we go with our driver, Hai, and our guide, Lam, to visit My Son, the Cham ruins about 45 minutes away. This is Vietnam's miniature version of Angkor Wat. It's very cool. It's rainy and misty which adds to the mystical mood of the place.

Upon our return we do a little shopping and explore the Yali silk shop behind our hotel. Along with a mindboggling group of shops, they have a silk worm production and weaving demonstration. Very interesting.

We take a taxi to the beach for dinner at Quan Nahn, a seafood restaurant we had read about in the New York Times and on several blogs. Maybe Singapore spoiled us, but the food at Quan Nahn is overrated. We have a set meal of grilled squid which were tasty. Then prawns and a small crab. Everything is fresh and good but it isn't the crab we had expected. And it's rather pricey. We share a taxi back with a group of British senior citizens and call it a night.

Day 7: Cooking in Hoi An

TRA QUE ORGANIC VEGETABLE VILLAGE>>>LOCAL FISH
MAKING RICE NOODLES>>>WE MADE PHO!
RICE PAPER CRACKERS>>>RED BRIDGE COOKING SCHOOL

Slept well despite the damp sheets. It's humid here.

We take breakfast on one of two tables on the front terrace and enjoy coffee and banana pancakes. We watch market vendors pass by on their way to market via bicycle and motobike carrying everything from fresh fish and meat to blocks of ice. Amazing!

Herb checks out the noodle stand across the street, a new morning habit. They serve up mee quang, the local noodle dish with yellow-colored noodles, spice and quail eggs. He's getting "ripped off" according to the girls at the hotel here. He should be paying 10,000VND but he's getting charged 25,000VND -- that's about $1.50.

It's pouring down rain. So, we enroll ourselves in full day class at Red Bridge Cooking School. We meet at Hai Cafe for coffee then embark on a fun day of culinary adventures.

Our first stop is Tra Que, an organic farm cooperative just outside Hoi An. We learn about the soil, composting and sample the incredible variety of fresh herbs and greens we've been seeing on our dinner tables. One that tastes like fish -- the fish herb. Poor translation. Vietnamese mint, basil, sawtooth cilantro leaf, and others. We gather for ginger tea and watermelon seeds under a covered patio at one of the farm houses.

Cooking class commences at Red Bridge's beautiful outdoor kitchen facility. We start with pho, beef noodle soup. Then we learn how to make our own rice noodles and grilled rice paper crackers. Cha ca and shrimp in banana leaf are also on our menu. It rains most of the day so it's was a great idea to spend the day sipping white wine and cooking.

We take Red Bridge's boat back up river to Hoi An. Herb and I use the afternoon to explore the town a bit further.

Later we stop for beers and salty-sweet Vietnamese peanuts on the terrace at Cafe Hai. We return there for dinner and enjoy a bottle of wine, Hoi An pancake, spring rolls, and beef-lettuce roll ups that we grill on a terra cotta, tabletop barbeque. All for $26.

Day 6: Hanoi-Danang-Hoi An

CA PHE AT HAPRO>>>BUN CHA
BUN CHA>>>BIA HANOI
DANANG DEPARTURE>>>MS. KARI'S DRIVER

After another wonderful breakfast at the Army Hotel mingling with expats, we head over to Exotissimo Travel Agency to confirm and pay for our flight to Danang later today. We also book this weekend's adventure to Sapa in Northern Vietnam. We'll take a night train on Friday night and stay two nights at Topas Eco-Lodge. Should be fun!

With travel plans completed, we sample our first Bun Cha at a streetside spot recommended by our travel agent. Bun Cha consists of a plate of rice noodles, a bowl of broth with grilled pork patties and sliced pork, and spring rolls. You add the noodles to your broth and then doctor it up with the ever-present bowl of fresh greens, cilantro, mint, lettuce, bean sprouts and slurp away. This place is run by several women who all seem to have a specific role. One fries spring rolls, one dishes up noodles, one does dishes on the sidewalk, and one delivers our food and takes our money.

Fueled by bun cha we taxi to Hanoi's Nobai Airport to catch our 3pm Vietnam Airlines flight to Danang.

Landing in Danang we see bunkers built by the U.S. military. Danang's airport was a major supply center during the war. The bunkers now house all sorts of Vietnamese military trucks, airplanes and equipmnt. Weird. Danang is a small airport with no jetway. So, you get to walk across the tarmac. We always love that.

We exit the airport into a sea of waiting taxi drivers. One is holding a sign that reads "Ms. Kari". That's our guy. His name is Hai.

We drive south along China Beach about 45 minutes before reaching Hoi An and the An Huy Hotel where we'll spend the next few days. Our deluxe room has been given away and we're given a main floor room off the lobby and the promise of an upgrade tomorrow when something else is available. The room is damp from moisture and smells faintly of mildew. It's not perfect but we'll be fine. We decide to take a walk.

At first glance, we're not sure exactly why we're in Hoi An. The town is a UNESCO World Heritage site and definitely on tourist map. In fact, it's crawling with tourists -- and tourist traps. Tailors of all kinds, touristy restaurants and touts everywhere trying to sell you something. But it IS old, older than anything we've seen, with a sprawling riverside market. We try to reserve our judgement.

We choose Cafe 96 from our guide book for dinner. Something easy. It doesn't do too much to lift our spirits as we're surrounded by loud, backbacking, Lonely Planet disciples from around the globe. We drink wine and eat descent food.

We fall asleep on damp sheets and tell ourselves that everything will look better in the morning. There must be charm here somewhere.

Day 5: Eating our Way Through Hanoi

HANOI MOTOBIKES>>>FIRST PHO
THIS LITTLE PIGGY WENT TO MARKET>>>VIEW FROM THE SECRET CAFE
HOW TO USE A CORKSCREW>>>MORE PHO

We wake up early -- really early. Too early for breakfast so we watch morning tai chi and aerobics on Vietnamese television. Girls in 1980's aerobics leotards with music to match. Hilarious.

Breakfast at the Army Hotel is interesting due to the company. We already made a friend here. An American named Andre working on various projects with the Vietnamese government. He's former military and spent ten years here. We chat about Vietnam, Obama, and the election over a breakfast of eggs, baguette, yogurt, fruit. We passed on the steamer tray of hotdogs and ham.

And then we're off to explore Hanoi. First the tree-lined streets of the French Quarter. One block away from our hotel is the Hanoi Opera House. We make our first attempt at a street crossing there. Exhilerating is one word to describe it. We're not sure why, but it works. Everyone just keeps moving. You step off the curb and stare down a sea of oncoming motobikes and they just move around you. Empowering.

We find ourselves at Hoan Kiem Lake and stumble upon Hapro coffee so we sample our first Vietnamese ca phe sua hoa nong. It's delicious and chocolately. It starts to rain so we huddle under umbrellas and enjoy the scene. Vietnamese reading their Sunday papers and the city coming alive on a misty, spring Sunday.

What we really want is pho. After failed attempts to locate a few pho stands we had read about, we settle on one that looks good and join Vietnamese families on little blue stools streetside. We share two dishes a traditional bowl of pho and a plate of noodles. Sort of wet and dry versions of pho with and without the broth. Both are delicious. The best bowl of soup ever with rice noodles, slices of beef, water spinach, cilantro and bean sprouts. It's everything we imagined. We are now powered by pho.

We spend our day shopping and wandering around the city, soaking it up. We enjoy afternoon coffee at The Secret Cafe atop a four-story building overlooking Hoan Kiem Lake. Beautiful.

Dinner is at Hoa Sua, a French restaurant hidden in an alley. They educate street-kids in the art of food service so they can find jobs and get off the street. It's fun and we eat well. Are stomachs are adjusting to Asian food every day. We're craving some western carbs. So, we enjoy coq au vin and pommes purees and French Bordeaux.

Our server may have missed the class on how to use a corkscrew. So, Herb leads a crash course at our table. Other students gather around to learn. We're all happy and smiling and having a great time!

Day 4: Hello Hanoi

CHANGI AIRPORT, SINGAPORE>>>HANOI TRAFFIC
COFFEE AT HAPRO>>>H&K AT ARMY HOTEL

Arrival in Hanoi, Vietnam. A surreal experience. A crumbling airport, a stern communist-style greeting from People's Committee members sporting ill-fitting olive green-uniforms, and, believe it or not, a taxi driver bearing a sign with Kari's name on it.

Outside the airport, we're immediately swept into a never-ending stream of motobikes, cars, trucks and bicycles weaving their way into Hanoi. We see rice paddies, water buffalo, masked young men, women, and entire families all on motobike. Barefoot women in conical hats work in the fields alongside brand new manufacturing plants with acres of motobike garages. Everyone's moving and honking. A smokey, smoggy haze fills the air. Welcome to Vietnam.

A 45-minute taxi ride takes us to the peace and quiet of the Army Hotel in the French Quarter -- a good choice. Strange because it's spotless and quiet amid so much activity. It is indeed operated by the army and it's frequented by expats working on development projects, parents adopting Vietnamese children, and locals who come to enjoy the giant pool. Our brains need a rest before venturing out. for more. Can you say culture shock? We nap.

We wake up in time for dinner and take a taxi directly to Highway 4. This place is raved about in all the travel guides. We thought it would be an easy first stop for dinner. There are no tourists. It's busy with locals partying on a Hanoi Saturday night. Everyone's buying bottles of Highway 4's infamous rice wine and smoking incessantly. Shoes are off, meals are eaten cross-legged at low tables. Very comfy. A honey-mooning American couple joins us and we feast on catfish spring rolls, beef, green papaya salad, crispy crickets and more. All is washed down with Mountain Apple rice wine made in house. People start pouring drinks. Everyone's laughing and having a great time. Kari's brain is fuzzy from lack of sleep (we really did eat too much last night, and slept horribly). Oh and there's that bit of culture shock too.

After dinner we venture out to explore a few blocks around the restaurant. We weave our way down tiny, winding streets filled with motobikes, people, and street-side cooks fanning the flames of their charcoal "stoves" and grilling up late-night bun cha. We catch brief glimpses into street corner offices of the People's Committee, where a grim-faced officer sits at a desk under a stark, fluorescent bulb. Then we find a night market swarming with vendors selling everything from postcards to panties and cheap Chinese toys.

There will be time to explore further tomorrow. It's late so we taxi back to the hotel for a good night's rest.

Day 3: Singapore Stopover

KOPI TO GO>>>THE SPICE TRAIL
LITTLE INDIA>>>MRT>>>
AMAZING ORCHIDS>>>SIN HUAT EATING HOUSE

We wake up early and ready to explore. Jet lag doesn't seem to be so bad. We're enjoying our time in Singapore to relax and get into a vacation frame of mind.

Herb ventures to Cafe Express 2000, next door to the hotel, in search of coffee, or kopi, to start our day. Yes, we could have coffee in the beautiful hotel cafe downstairs but we're avoiding the bland, corporate hotel in favor of exploring the real Singapore. We generally avoid the concierge as well in favor of asking the doormen where they eat. So far, they have not let us down.

Herb returns laughing. In one hand he has kopi in a plastic bag and in the other, kopi in a stryo cup with a cute little plastic sling. This is coffee to go, Singapore style. The bag is convenient as it doesn't drip. But it feels a bit like an IV and you can't set it down. We prefer the cup in a sling method.

We hit the local ATM and head out on the MRT, Singapore's slick and efficient subway system. Our morning destination is Little India. We explore the wet market and are amazed by the variety of fish and seafood we've never seen before. We peruse the hawker stalls, we spy our first Durian (the stinky fruit that's illegal in many hotels and on Singapore's subway). Then we head to lunch at Kamala Villa where we eat dosas, chapati, dal and mango lassis. The food is delicious. You eat with your hands -- your right hand to be specific, the left is for other business apparently. There is a basin at the back of the restaurant where everyone washes their hands upon arrival at the restaurant.

After lunch, we explore the local Hindu temple and the Indian markets full of sari's, cheap jewelry and $3 watches. Then it's back downtown for a boat tour to gawk at Singapore's skyscrapers. Kari fantasizes about staying at the Fullerton. Then we stop for happy hour beers at Brewerkz, a local micro-brewery. We explore Clark Quay and restaurants we would never eat at like Aurum, the hospital-themed place with wheel chairs for chairs that Tony visited in No Reservations. In such a foodie paradise, we have no idea why he would eat here. The producer who came up with that idea was probably fired. The adjacent bar is even weirder. It's called Clinic and has gurney-like chairs and operating room lights. We don't get it.

We take a break from the Singapore glitz and climb up to Fort Canning, a beautiful park in the middle of Singapore. A tropical forest with tropical sounding birds in trees. We are basically on the equator. Remember? In the park we explore the old fort and stumble upon the Singapore Culinary Academy and the Spice Trail. Along the trail, you can stop and smell vanilla orchids, cardomom trees, cinnamon bark and more. Very interesting. Stumbled upon a lovely little restaurant and wine bar then made it back to a hawker center for a snack and beers.

We clean up for what we expected to be a fancy dinner. Mr. Brisket's friend Syd, who lives in Singapore, suggested the Sin Huat Eating House, located in Geylong (the red light district) and supposedly some of the best seafood in town. We're surprised to find out it is an open air, street corner restaurant. We get out of the taxi, unsure that we were even in the right place. We sit at plastic chairs and order Tiger beers. Danny, the infamous owner, emerges from behind the fish tanks to take our order. No menus. He just sort of tells us what we should eat. He disappears into the kitchen and plates start arriving...steamed sea scallops, garlic prawns, sauteed greens with crispy shallot, ginger and sesame oil AND the unbelieveable Crab Beehoon. This decadent seafood feast introduces our tastebuds to the quality of the seafood in this part of the world. The scallops are cloaked in a deep, rich soy sauce and garlic and served on the shell. The biggest, sweetest prawns I've ever seen are wild (not farmed) and hail from local waters. And the Sri Lankan crab beehoon arrives, a jumble of Singapore style noodles and sweet, succulent crab legs all sauteed together. Fabulous! And then there's Danny, a man so dedicated to seafood it makes you want to cry. After our meal, we have a chance to chat with him about seafood. He's a treasure. We hope to see him again someday. What a meal!

And tomorrow it's on to Hanoi.

Day 2: Welcome to the S'pore!

SINGAPORE SKYLINE>>>MAXWELL STREET HAWKER CENTER
TIEN TIEN CHICKEN RICE>>>LAKSA
OYSTER CAKE AKA UFO>>>TEMPLE OF THE TOOTH RELIC

A great night's sleep -- on an airplane! Imagine that? Airlines of the world take note. You can learn a thing or two from Singapore Airlines.

The Carlton Hotel is big and anonymous and a fine base of operations for us. We freshen up and take off to explore Singapore.

We're hungry, of course. So, we head for Chinatown and the Maxwell Street Hawker Center. Herb is armed with information he's printed from various S'pore food blogs as well as suggestions from Tony Bourdain's recent episode of No Reservations featuring Singapore.

We're hot on Tony's trail as we get in line for our first taste of Tien Tien Chicken Rice, supposedly Singapore's national dish, if there can be such a thing in a cultural mix as diverse as this.

We eat well but drink like wimps, avoiding the beautiful fruit smoothies because we don't want to get sick from the ice or the fruit this early in our trip. (We'll soon realize how ridiculous this is -- we're in Singapore, perhaps the cleanest country in the world.)

For now we happily stick to Tiger Beer and sample a variety of local fare including the above mentioned Chicken Rice, spicy Prawn Laksa, and oyster cakes called UFO's packed with oysters, shrimp, peanuts and vegetables. It's all fantastic food. A perfect blending of Chinese, Malay and Indian cultures, on a plate. This is Singapore.

Post lunch, we take in the Temple of the Tooth Relic, our first visit to a Buddhist temple. And today is a holiday, the 15th day of the new lunar new year. So, the place is buzzing with activity. Monks chanting and singing, incense burning, people praying and leaving offerings of fruit, candles, flowers and money for Buddha. We follow suit and purchase $10 worth of coins and make our rounds dropping each one in a gold dish and admiring the beautiful surroundings. Upstairs, we visit the museum and learn about the life of Buddha, view the relics of Buddha's tooth and other bodily parts, and admire the rooftop dharma or prayer wheel and orchid garden.

Evening brings the need for a nap. After a two-hour power nap, Kari awakes in a panic that we'd slept through the night. Is it dusk or dawn? We can't really tell. Jet lag? Luckily we'd only slept two hours as planned and there was time for another meal of this great Singporean food! We dined across the street from our hotel at Victoria Street Hawker Center. Our jet lagged brains recall eating prawns and noodles but no details.

The hotel lobby features the most absurd piano bar with a duo covering American pop tunes. We walk in on a perfect rendition of "I Just Called to Say I Love You" then a Justin Timberlake cover. We learn soon enough that this is a feature of most Singapore hotels. We both recall the film Lost in Translation and remember the Asian's affection for piano bars.

Day 1: 17 Hours, 400 Channels, Free Drinks, Singapore Sunrise

SINGAPORE AIRLINES CREW

We're off to Vietnam. Finally, after typhoid shots, malaria pills, lessons on how to properly Purell fresh fruit and other ridiculous concerns.

We're flying the longest flight in the world... Singapore Airlines non-stop Executive Economy class from Newark to Singapore. The flight is wonderful. Kari calls it her flying spa. Hot towels, free drinks, delicious food, gracious service, clean restrooms, comfy seats, 400 channels including a virtual film festival, music downloads featuring Japan pop and Hindi Hits, video games and foreign language lessons. Oh and Herb likes the beautiful flight attendants. We like this. It's what flying should be.

Our Singpore-based Flight Steward and his lovely wife offer us Singapore restaurant suggestions and invite us for coffee upon landing, a fine introduction to Singapore's coffee or kopi culture.

As the sun rises at the sleek, new Changi Airport, we breakfast on a "set" of Kopi-C, kaya toast and soft-boiled eggs with rich, dark soy sauce. Not a bad way to start the day.

Then it's off to the Singapore Stopover desk to catch our shuttle to the Carlton Hotel.