It's been an extremely wet few months here. Not entirely surprising, given it's the wet season and all, but apparently in terms of the consistency and sheer volume of rainfall, we've been particularly unlucky this year, so that's good news. Not all that much to be done about it, other than to do a good deal of hibernating, complain about it at every possible opportunity. and remembering to pack waterproofs on EVERY bike journey (we've failed to do this on numerous occasions, all: 'oh it probably won't rain, it looks like it's easing off, this is gonna be a great journey!' when we leave the house, before promptly getting annihilated by a downpour, swearing copiously and driving home).
One advantage of the rain is the misty drama it brings to the hills. I've spent a good deal of my days off here taking the bike up Monkey Mountain, which sits just next to the city. The challenge is to try and sniff out hidden paths and do some exploring. It's pretty exhilarating, foraying into the thickly-wooded mountain and seeing what I can discover. On one such walk a few weeks ago I was lucky enough to see two extremely colourful and surprisingly large monkeys nestling in the trees. I was to later discover that they were red-shanked doucs, held in relatively large supply on the mountain but usually well concealed, so I counted myself extremely lucky to see them. It was among the most exciting moments I've had on the trip so far, being high up the mountain, taking in the immense coastal views hundreds of feet below, and having these awesome mountain dwellers happen themselves upon me in their natural habitat. Naturally, I didn't have my camera handy when I saw the monkeys, so you'll just have to take my word for it on this one.
On the flip side, there are things to watch out for on these jaunts, among them unexploded ordnance from the war, poisonous snakes, and perhaps most insidious of all, friendly Vietnamese people hankering after a picture with the giant wandering white man.
Taking time to relax, listen to music, listen to podcasts and soak up the scenery have been major corner stones of life out here, and I've done my best to not to let the rain stop me from doing that. Anyway, I love the character that the giant storm clouds bring. It makes everything seem that much more profound, and evokes a real sense of nostalgia, a vice I like to indulge perhaps more than is healthy.
In sad news for us here, our semi-adopted puppy, Puppy, was dognapped and eaten a few weeks ago. In her wisdom, our landlady thought it a good idea to leave her tethered in the conservatory all day, every day, her routine broken only when we would come home to take her on a walk or have her in the flat to let off some of her boundless puppy energy and play. According to the people here, it was apparently inevitable that she would be taken eventually, and lo and behold we came home a couple of weeks ago to find nothing but a cut lead where our puppy used to be. The small silver lining for us is knowing that at least she's free from such a sad, limited life, but it is still very sad to come home and not see her bounding gleefully, so happy to see us. She was a lovely dog and full of character, and we're gonna miss her.
Nothing to do but press on, but it's certainly made things feel a little emptier and sadder here. The coming months should hold many positives, though, given we've a trip to the south planned in February, and my dear friend Alice is coming to visit in March, followed hopefully by a jaunt from my dear friend Dyer. Also, in a bid to do something constructive while I'm here, hip and ankle injuries allowing, I'm hoping to run the Da Nang half marathon in August to raise money for my aunt and uncle's clinic in Bangladesh. I'll be peppering facebook with info about that in the coming weeks.
I've enjoyed pressing on with the blog, although it's not been made any easier by a recently-severed internet connection to Da Nang.The official line is that a shark attacked the cable which connects the city to internet. Sounds pretty legit to me, so I can't really complain.
Otherwise, there's really not too much to report, apart from my decision today to dump Jen, go out dressed in my Sunday best and get married to a Vietnamese woman.
One advantage of the rain is the misty drama it brings to the hills. I've spent a good deal of my days off here taking the bike up Monkey Mountain, which sits just next to the city. The challenge is to try and sniff out hidden paths and do some exploring. It's pretty exhilarating, foraying into the thickly-wooded mountain and seeing what I can discover. On one such walk a few weeks ago I was lucky enough to see two extremely colourful and surprisingly large monkeys nestling in the trees. I was to later discover that they were red-shanked doucs, held in relatively large supply on the mountain but usually well concealed, so I counted myself extremely lucky to see them. It was among the most exciting moments I've had on the trip so far, being high up the mountain, taking in the immense coastal views hundreds of feet below, and having these awesome mountain dwellers happen themselves upon me in their natural habitat. Naturally, I didn't have my camera handy when I saw the monkeys, so you'll just have to take my word for it on this one.
On the flip side, there are things to watch out for on these jaunts, among them unexploded ordnance from the war, poisonous snakes, and perhaps most insidious of all, friendly Vietnamese people hankering after a picture with the giant wandering white man.
Taking time to relax, listen to music, listen to podcasts and soak up the scenery have been major corner stones of life out here, and I've done my best to not to let the rain stop me from doing that. Anyway, I love the character that the giant storm clouds bring. It makes everything seem that much more profound, and evokes a real sense of nostalgia, a vice I like to indulge perhaps more than is healthy.
In sad news for us here, our semi-adopted puppy, Puppy, was dognapped and eaten a few weeks ago. In her wisdom, our landlady thought it a good idea to leave her tethered in the conservatory all day, every day, her routine broken only when we would come home to take her on a walk or have her in the flat to let off some of her boundless puppy energy and play. According to the people here, it was apparently inevitable that she would be taken eventually, and lo and behold we came home a couple of weeks ago to find nothing but a cut lead where our puppy used to be. The small silver lining for us is knowing that at least she's free from such a sad, limited life, but it is still very sad to come home and not see her bounding gleefully, so happy to see us. She was a lovely dog and full of character, and we're gonna miss her.
Nothing to do but press on, but it's certainly made things feel a little emptier and sadder here. The coming months should hold many positives, though, given we've a trip to the south planned in February, and my dear friend Alice is coming to visit in March, followed hopefully by a jaunt from my dear friend Dyer. Also, in a bid to do something constructive while I'm here, hip and ankle injuries allowing, I'm hoping to run the Da Nang half marathon in August to raise money for my aunt and uncle's clinic in Bangladesh. I'll be peppering facebook with info about that in the coming weeks.
I've enjoyed pressing on with the blog, although it's not been made any easier by a recently-severed internet connection to Da Nang.The official line is that a shark attacked the cable which connects the city to internet. Sounds pretty legit to me, so I can't really complain.
Otherwise, there's really not too much to report, apart from my decision today to dump Jen, go out dressed in my Sunday best and get married to a Vietnamese woman.
