Burning Desire For FIRE

Financially Independent, Retired Early(ish) at 57.

Page 3 of 62

Vietnam Day 5: Hue.

Today was a driving day, with over 4 hours between Hoi An and Hue. Hue is like Vietnam’s Rome… the history village.

It was the capital of the country for a couple of hundred years from 1809 onwards, with the king’s weekday and weekend palaces here. During the war, however, the Pink Palace, which was the main palace, was bombed extensively by the Americans. It’ll take another 20 years for it to be restored.

We had a look at the undamaged weekend palace. But first, we stopped at a marble carving place.

Robin told us about the superstition surrounding the laughing Buddha.
“If you want your child to be smart, you rub the Laughing Buddha’s head and then rub your child’s head. If you want your child to be rich, you rub the Laughing Buddha’s tummy and then rub your child’s tummy. If you want your child to be a tour guide, you rub the Laughing Buddha’s mouth…” and he grinned.

I have a tiny collection of religious figurines… weird for an atheist, I know, so I went hunting for a little Buddha. I found one made from tigers-eye. I forgot to snap a photo before she wrapped it up, sorry. I’ll show it to you when I get home.

We set off along the road to Danone and Hue. The sea is the South China Sea, though in Vietnam it’s called something else.

As we drove along, Robin regaled us with some interesting facts about astrology and relationships up in the mountains.

In the countryside, fortune tellers and astrology are very important. The fortune tellers are mainly men, which surprised me a bit. City people don’t pay it as much mind as the country people do.

When a new building is being built, the fortune teller will decide which day to start and which brick to lay first.

First day of the year, someone from the Rooster or Buffalo years should enter first for good luck. People line up a friend or neighbour born in the appropriate years to do this. Robin said, “People from every other year tend to stay at home on the first day of the year. They’re too scared they’ll give someone bad luck if they’re accidentally the first guest in their house!”

Dating someone? In the country, if your signs don’t match up, they try to break you up. In the cities, it isn’t taken seriously.
Foreigners can only buy apartments in Vietnam, and only for 50 years. Sounds more like a lease to me…

Danang is the 3rd biggest city in Vietnam, with 1.3 million people. It has a casino, but only foreigners are allowed in. You have to show your passport. Eastern retirees prefer this city, while Westerners prefer Hoi An.

Danang was a huge US base during the war.

We were driving through the mountains when Robin mentioned the Love Market. Naturally, we were all intrigued by this.
“It’s hard for boys and girls to meet each other in the mountains,” he said. “It’s not like in the city where you meet at a bar or club. There’s so much distance between villages. So on Saturdays, it’s a normal market during the day, but at night it becomes a place where families bring their sons and daughters to meet. It’s called the Love Market. If a girl and a boy talk and get to love each other, they get married.”

”Oh” he said. “ I forgot to say that before they get married, the boy has to kidnap the girl and keep her in his room for 3 days and feed her breakfast, lunch and dinner. If she eats all the food, she is saying yes. At the end of the 3 days, he has to let her go, whether she accepts or refuses him, it doesn’t matter. He has to let her go.”

This island with all of the houses on it is where Vietnam houses its lepers. There aren’t as many people suffering from leprosy as there have been in the past, but it still exists here.

The last king in Vietnam abdicated in 1945. He is buried 500m from the Eiffel Tower in Paris. When he got married, he promised his wife that she would be his only wife.

He didn’t exactly keep that promise, having 13 wives in total. His last wife was french.

Still, that was positively restrained when you consider that the average number of wives the kings had was around 100.

Every night, the king was presented with a table with all the wives names and he’d select which women he wanted to sleep with that night. Eunuchs grew rich with the bribes the wives gave them to put their names forward. It was important to give the king a child. When he died, the wives who were childless were buried alive with him.

One king was famous for sleeping with 6 wives on the one night and getting 5 of them pregnant. He ended up having 165 children.

When the kin selected the lucky ladies, they would be brought to him, wrapped naked in blankets “ like spring rolls,” said Robin. “ So they couldn’t bring weapon to kill the king.”

I’ve been cropping out the litter left everywhere, but this is how much of the space looks. It’s a shame, because this place is so beautiful, but you see evidence of human plastics and paper just about everywhere.

After lunch, we went for a boat ride on the Perfumed River. So named because back in the day, there were many apricot trees upriver, and when the fruit fell into the water, the river was scented.

There was a shop on the boat. Immediately, all the women snapped into gear. After yesterday’s effort, I wasn’t going to buy anything, but when I saw that fridge magnets were $2:40 AUS, I bought one.

I’m only human.

A 400 year old Buddhist temple. This was built on the site of a Muslim temple that had been there for hundreds of years before.

This reminded me of when Helen and I went to the temple in Beijing and lit some incense.

We only had about 5 minutes here, but it was beautiful.

Happy Buddha.

Vietnam has small shops and markets everywhere.

Our next stop was the second palace. The king had a weekday palace in the east ( near the rising sun) and a weekend palace in the west that when he dies becomes where his tomb is.

When the king dies, he is cremated and then 4 bodyguards take his body behind a big door and bury it there. Straight after they emerge, they’re killed, so no one will ever know where the king lies.

The entrance to see the king is long, so that when people finally meet him, or more usually, the upper ministers, they are already hot and tired and at a disadvantage.

The chocopie offering is a nice touch.

This used to be the king’s bedroom.

You’d have to be careful going up and down this set of stairs!

This is the part of the river that flows through the palace, so if they were ever under attack, they’d still have water. It’s also how goods were delivered before trucks.

And finally … the door. I wonder if it was weird to spend your weekends there as the king, knowing that one day you’ll be hidden behind here, or if it brought comfort.

It must’ve been lovely to spend time here. It’s so calm and beautiful.

Then it was time for a rickshaw ride through the old citadel. This was an optional extra. It cost something like 250,000 dong, which sounds like a hellava lot but is only $15.

Those guys worked hard for that $15.

We stopped once for a look at the top of the citadel. The rest of the time we stayed in the rickshaws as the traffic swirled closely around us. The drivers here have nerves of steel.

It was interesting to be in the thick of it, but sometimes the exhaust fumes were a bit strong.

We were dropped off at the Romance Hotel, where we were booked for the night.
I walked in and started laughing… look at the size of the bed! I put my iPad on it for scale.

You could have an orgy here with no worries whatsoever.

Totally wasted on me, however!
Dad Joke of the day:

Never iron a four-leaf clover. You don’t want to press your luck.  

Vietnam day4: Hoi An.

Today was a rainy day. There were a couple of optional excursions on offer in the morning, but Robin decided that we’d all be too miserable in the rain, so we had a lazy morning before heading into the regularly scheduled program.

We went to a veggie farm and cooking school. It was great!

With some time to spare this morning, I went for a walk after breakfast. Even though it was Sunday morning, the traffic was brisk. You took your life in your hands every time you crossed the road.

Lots of lane ways.

Then before I knew it, we were off to the farm! We sat at a table for a delicious ‘welcome drink’ and John said, “Hey, look what’s under the tabletop.”

How lovely.

We were given farmers shirts to put on over our clothes, along with the Vietnamese hats, then out into the field we went!

No space is wasted. Here, they’ve mixed in a flower crop- gladioli- with lettuce.

Whenever a Vietnamese family has a baby, the government gives 100square metres of ground. Half of the population are farmers, so this is very important to them. The trouble is, the pieces of land are scattered all around. So this series of garden beds are owned by many different families, all looking after their own plots of land.

These plots are on the literal outskirts of Hoi An.
We walked along while our farmer picked handfuls of different herbs and passed them along so we could smell them.

This is what a peanut crop looks like!

Here’s me, hoeing the ground so that our farmer could plant some spinach plants. It’s me, I promise.

If you zoom in, you’ll be able to see the yoke that the buckets are suspended from.

After this, it was time for the cooking class. I wasn’t particularly looking forward to doing this, probably because I never really enjoyed all the cooking classes I ran during my thermomix days.
But it was a lot of fun.

There I am, 6th from the left, ready to start making my savoury pancake.
The scariest thing about it was that we had to flip them over after a couple of minutes. Not with a spatula, like regular people do. Oh no… we had to flip it up in the air from the pan and then catch it.

I was so sure I wouldn’t be able to do it. But I was wrong.

LOOK AT THIS!

Sometimes I surprise myself.

Also, I don’t think I’ve ever had a more flattering photo of myself.

Then it was back down the path to the buggies waiting to take us to either the hotel or to the Old Town to shop.

Without an exception, the men went back to the hotel. The women all went shopping.
It was raining, so I had my Antarctica rain jacket on. Robin went with us to the markets, and kindly took me to the shop where I wanted to go.

Yes, I decided that I couldn’t live without that beautiful embroidered artwork of the Hoi A street. It’s coming home to The Best House in Melbourne.

After that exercise, there was no way I was buying anything else. I wandered around alone, just looking, until I bumped into Maree and Tina from our group.

Look! The terminators have arrived… and they look fabulous!

We were in a clothes shop and Tina wanted to buy her adult son a t- shirt. She noticed a young couple in the shop and asked the man if he’d mind trying on the T-shirt, as he was around the same size as her son. He agreed.
once he had it on, Tina asks, “Do you mind if I hug you, just to see if it feels right ?”

His girlfriend thought that was hilarious. Him? Not so much…

We headed in here for a couple of G&Ts while it rained.

I felt sorry for this lady, still making her sweet potato fritters in the pouring rain.

I bought another souvenir on the way back to the hotel. Coffee that has been ground from coffee beans shat from weasels. Can’t wait to spring this one on Georgia!

Before dinner, we went to a dance/acrobatic show called the Bamboo Circus. The core strength of these acrobats has to be seen to be believed.

We have a big day tomorrow, so it’ll be an early start. We leave magical Hoi An and we’re heading further north.

I can see myself coming back here one day. It’s a lovely place.

Dad Joke of the day:

The man who fell into an upholstery machine is fully recovered.  

Vietnam Day 3: Hoi An.

Today was was an early start as we had a 9AM flight to get to Hoi An.
This is a place with a quaint history. Hundreds of years ago, when ships were run by wind power, this became a place where Japanese and Chinese businessmen could meet, buy and sell and do all that good stuff. The name Hoi An means ‘ two streets.’ One called Chinese street, the other Japanese street

After a while, two things happened. Diplomatic relations between Japan and China got better, so they could deal directly with each other and they didn’t need neutral territory anymore. And the steam ships were invented. Hoi An’s harbour wasn’t big enough to accommodate them. The place fell into disuse.

In the 1980’s, before Vietnam opened to the world, a Polish guy saw Hoi An and realised that Vietnam had a goldmine here. He advised the government to slap heritage protection on the buildings and open it up for tourists.

Everyone who comes here is glad they listened. This place is a gem.

We wandered through in the late afternoon, had dinner here and then I went for a much-needed massage.

Here is Hoi An:

Taken from the balcony of Hoi An’s oldest house, built in 1790. The same family still lives there and sells embroidery. The pink building is the Japanese bridge.

It’s like a Little Venice.

Lanterns everywhere.

We saw many marigolds with red ribbons tied around them. This is done when you really want something to happen and you make a wish.

Remember last year when I was on the top of the mountain in Whistler, looking at the spectacular view and then this song came on?
How funny to be reminded of it in such a different place!

During the day, only pedestrians and cyclists can use the streets. Occasionally, you’ll see a motorbike, but that’s only permitted for the people who live here.

Argh! Here is where I left my heart…

It’s a shop where they produce art by embroidering silk threads. I saw a magnificent piece.

It’s the one on the easel. They want $2,700 for it, UNFRAMED.

Yikes.

When you’re walking and you hear someone saying “Beepbeepbeep,” behind you, get out of their way!

This place is stunning. I already know I’d come back here in a heartbeat.
The best tailors in Vietnam are here, so if you want clothes made, this is the place.
The massages aren’t bad, either. A full 1 hour body massage with hot stones and aromatherapy for twenty Australian dollars?

Amazing.

Dad Joke of the Day:

wanted to make sure that my daughter would be good at catching butterflies and fish.

So I called her Anette. 

Vietnam day 2: The Mekong River.

Look! It’s the Mekong!

On the way out of town, we passed by the courthouse and there were many bridal parties getting ready to go in and do the deed.

“Ahhh, many stupid men…” said Robin sadly.

Homelessness in Vietnam is handled differently. Vans with a doctor and police inside drive around.

Old people get taken to a government nursing home.

Kids get taken back home, while drug addicted people get taken to rehab.

Today we’re going to the Mekong Delta, the best area for farming in Vietnam.

“Very rich country, said Robin. “ They get 3 crops a year instead of one. They also have lucky weather. Very few typhoons. The people in the Mekong Delta drink a lot. They enjoy life. The farmers up north, if they earn $10 they spend $1 and save for the bad times. The farmers in the middle, if they earn $10 they save $4. The farmers in the Mekong? They earn $10, they spend $11. They enjoy life.”

A weirdly interesting thing we learned is that in the northern parts of Vietnam, it’s the custom to bury people TWICE.
When Robin was 9 years old, he remembers all his family getting into a truck in the middle of the night and going to dig up his grandmother coffin. They dug up her bones, washed them with rice wine and then rearranged them back in place.

We passed by many rice fields with tombs in them. These are old tombs. Fifty years ago, laws were passed preventing families from putting grandpa out in his rice paddy when he died.

We hopped into a motor boat and traveled up the river to see a coconut family- and learn how they harvest coconut for just about everything. This was a chance to shop. People were selling everything from coconut lollies to salad servers. There were clothes and paintings and ice creams.

There was also a crocodile leather section. Robin told a story which was my undoing.

“My Chinese customers like to buy crocodile wallets. When you eat crocodile, a lot goes in but not much comes out. They hope a crocodile wallet will do the same thing with money!”

I need a new wallet, as the one I bought in Sth Africa back in 2014 is looking a bit shabby. So here it is:

I saw Robin and told him that his story made me buy a wallet. He laughed and said, “It did the same thing to me!! I just bought one for my father- in – law!”

Snake rice wine – probably just as awful-tasting as the snake soju we tried in Pyongyang.

I realised when we were on the boat that I left my precious Antarctica Pee bottle, otherwise known as my water bottle, on a shelf in the ladies loo on the dock. How could I have done anything so stupid???

I love that bottle. It’s been on the ice in Antarctica, walking down the streets of London and Dublin, driven on 2 Australian road trips and been on the Ghan. I’ve lost it 3 times before… once in London in a shop, when a lady raced after me with it. Once in Tullamarine airport, where I walked back 20 minutes to retrieve it from the hook behind a toilet door, and once in Kangaroo Island. 

There was no point in getting upset. I was on a riverboat heading away from the dock.

I knew this day would happen one day. I didn’t realise that today would be it.

After we finished shopping at the coconut place, we headed off for a 10 minute TukTuk ride around the village. That was fun.


I liked the bits of iron.

We ended up stopping at a chocolate cafe, where we tried various Vietnamese fruits and we were also treated to a musical show.

The Vietnamese instrument called the Dan-bau only has one string. If you squint, you can see it.

After this, we went out to a tiny dock on a canal behind the cafe, where we were spread out over 4 boats. Of course, I sat in the front of our boat, so I had a perfect view.

This trip down the canal leading onto the river was lovely. The bamboo trees were like a tunnel and it was so peaceful. I hadn’t given this part of the day’s itinerary much thought, but it was an unexpected highlight.

Lunch was a treat!

The first course was Elephant Fish spring rolls. So named because the fish is the shape of an elephant’s ear.

They were made for us at the table. So fresh and delicious! Vicky couldn’t believe how good they were, with the fish and fresh vegetables.

They also brought a globe to the table that looked like it could maybe be bread. She cut into it and it turned out to be lined with cheese. It was ok, but a couple of people at my table loved it and went back for thirds.

There were around 7 courses and they were all fresh and delicious.

We’re certainly getting well fed on this trip. 
When our boat hit the dock back where we’d started that morning, I was first off and went racing to the ladies loo. As I rounded the door, I had my fingers crossed.

And look! My fabulous Antarctica Pee Bottle was still on the high shelf where I’d left it. I was so happy!

After this rapturous reunion, we drove off to a bamboo factory.

This was interesting. They also made silk garments as well as bamboo and they showed how they unravel the silk worms cocoons.

I bought something for Georgia here. I hope she likes it.

Just before dinner, we were gathering in the hotel foyer when something a little unpleasant happened. You know how sometimes you get a bad vibe about someone and you instinctively back away? I’d got the vibe from day1 from a woman called Jen. Ex- police and a real know-it-all. Within 10 minutes I decided that I’d steer clear of her as much as possible in such a small group.

I was chatting with someone and I looked up to see her leaning towards Robin, pointing her finger at him as if she was telling him off. Naturally, I moved closer to hear what was going on.

It turns out that the alcohol the hotel stocked didn’t have an extensive enough selection for her.
“Just having one red and one white wine isn’t good enough. Where is the Baileys? Where are the cocktails? This is supposed to be a 4 star establishment.”

Robin tried to say something and she steamrolled right over him. “ We’re the clientele. You should stock what the clientele wants! It’s not good enough!”

Now, how this was any of Robin’s fault, I have no idea, but he was copping it. I walked over and quietly said, “Hey Jen, why don’t you just put it on the feedback form?”

”I certainly WILL,” she said. Robin grabbed the opportunity to say that the next hotel has a bar right beside the pool. Jen said, “When I was in Bali, they had a bar IN the pool. You could swim up, sit on a stool and have your drink right there.” She wriggled her shoulders suggestively.

What a wanker! Those pools are a dime a dozen in Bali. She was talking as if it was an exotic rarity.
After that talk, I don’t think she likes me much either. She and a couple of other women were looking for spots at dinner. They rejected one table, moved towards ours when she saw me and suddenly announced, “This table is fine,” and made a beeline away. I chuckled.

I enjoyed what happened next very much. The waitress was at the other table and Robin came over and said to the girl, “ At this table we have a Queen here,” indicating Jen. She lapped it up, the waitress bowed and smiled, while I sat there thinking, ‘People will always come back at you if you’re nasty.’

Everyone else seems lovely, so she shouldn’t be too hard to avoid…

Dad Joke of the day:

Conjunctivitis.com

Now that’s a site for sore eyes  

Vietnam day 1: Saigon and the tunnels.

Oooh, baby baby! What have I let myself in for?

So here I am, after my first full day in Vietnam, using my free hour before dinner to start this post. The group I’m travelling with all seem nice, and the funny thing that were all solo travellers! Robin, our guide, said that he’s never had 17 guests with 17 rooms before. Most are Aussies, with a couple of English and a stray New Zealander.

After being driven to the airport by my limo driver – I knew I paid too much for this trip – the 3 Melbournians spotted each other at the airport. We had breakfast in the lounge together, but split up on the plane. Thank goodness, because I swear I slept for most of the 7 hour flight, even though it was during the day. I think that after the time I’ve had with my parents, my body was releasing a lot of tension…

Ho Chi Minh City/Saigon has been a part of Vietnam for 360 years. The older people call it Saigon, which I’ll probably do here because our guide calls it that, so I’m used to hearing it. Saigon means ‘Land of the cotton tree.’ It’s the biggest city here, with 10 million people.

Hanoi has been a part of Vietnam for 4,000 years. Robin was very proud of this, as he’s from Hanoi. After my trips to Central Australia and Arnhem Land, where I was looking at art and hearing stories of the 100,000+ year civilisation, it didn’t feel as impressive…

There are 9 million people in Hanoi. This sounds like a lot until you hear that there are 100 million people who live in Vietnam, and the population grows by a million a year.
20% are middle class, while 70% are poor.

Saigon is richer than the north.

In some places, Vietnam is only 57 kms wide!

Anyone born before the end of the war in 1975 is classed as an old person. Yikes!

The first day was an early start to drive to see the Vietnam Cong tunnels. I was looking forward to this, as there’s a lot about the Vietnam War that I don’t really know about.

Along the way there were a couple of things I saw that really brought home that I was back in Asia. I’ve been to Bali (twice), Thailand, Singapore, Hong Kong, China and North Korea, but I haven’t been back since 2018. You forget what Asia’s like.

Motorbikes everywhere.When a car costs four times the average yearly wage, people tend to gravitate towards the humble motorcycle. There are 7 million of then in Saigon alone!

Fresh meat, anyone?

Look at how she’s carrying this huge flower arrangement!

The Vietnam Cong tunnels were very interesting.

When they were going to split Vietnam into two countries, they gave it around 3 months so people could move where they wanted to live; under the communists in the north or the capitalists in the south. 1.1M people moved from the North as opposed to 300,000 the other way. The numbers may have been more even, buy Ho Chi Minh called for people to stay where they were, in the heart of the enemy. Of course, this worked really well as the war went on.


This is me about to go down into a tunnel. Quite a few people from the tour elected not to go down, but hey. I’ll probably only be here once, so I’m doing it!

In the south, particularly around Saigon, the Communists dug bunkers, then connected tunnels to them. You had to be thin to fight and live in the tunnels! The westerners were mostly too fat to go in after them, so they brought in soldiers from the Philippines and trained them to do this.

1968 US joined the fight when the communists bombed their embassy.

There were around 200 kms of tunnels. 2,000 people at a time lived underground.

Hospitals, kitchens etc. They’d live underground during the day and come up to stretch their legs at night. When you see what they were prepared to do, it’s no wonder they won.

I was second in line, behind a woman called Maree. I was scared that I’d move too fast while being doubled over in the dark and end up tripping and planting my face in her behind. Not really the way to introduce yourself to the group. Thankfully, it didn’t happen, so both our dignities remain intact.

Here is how the tunnels worked. The levels were 3, 6 and 8 metres deep, complete with bamboo spike traps and an escape route into the river.

At first, the US soldiers caught detect where the kitchens were by the smoke, so they’d drop a bomb on it. Then the Vietnam Cong soldiers started to dig tunnels for the chimneys and put filters in, so that when the smoke escaped, it was far less likely to be seen.

Imagine being a soldier, walking along, looking around at the trees for any ambushes…

Bamboo spikes for the unwary. It must have been awful. You’d never have a second to relax your guard when on patrol.

We saw many traps, but this one was the worst. If someone kicked the door down, this trap would fly down from the ceiling and get whoever was standing there. It has a hinge, so even if the top part was stopped, the bottom part would still be moving and then, “No more cucumber and tomatoes…” said Robin.

Going down into the tunnel. It had lights along the way, but it must’ve been very dark and claustrophobic for the soldiers.

People don’t like to buy homes near rubber farms because the trees are poisonous. People who work there die 3 – 5 years earlier than usual.

For lunch, we went to an organic farm and cooking school nearby.

The meal was exquisite. Well, except for the banana spring rolls for dessert. How anyone can like bananas is beyond me.

I saw these dog gate ornaments just as Robin was saying, “yes, we do eat dog.”

The Presidential Palace, built in the 60’s after the old one was bombed. See the coverings over the windows? They’re representing bamboo.

So many bonsai’s throughout the city.

See? Bamboo.

Here are the tanks that crashed through the gates of the palace and ended the war.

I saw this and had to take the photo. So pretty.

Always a gift shop.

This is from the top balcony of the Palace.

I was heading to the toilets before the bus was going when I bumped into this girl having a photoshoot.
To be honest, we spent far too much time here, and at the post office.

The post office was built in the 1800’s by the French. The only thing that changed is the picture of Ho Chi Minh that smiles benevolently down.

Outside the post office, I saw this building being engulfed by the ones around it, but standing its ground.

l only took 2 pictures at the War Museum. This one, of course, is famous.

This was nearby. Beauty made from something so terrible.

We had an hour here and it wasn’t enough time. Allow a couple of hours to move through. It was terribly moving.

And finally, I caught this pair from the bus window- Mum filing her nails while her kid is on

her phone.

Dad joke of the day:

To the thief who stole my pillow,

I will not rest until I find you.

Handing over responsibility.. plus reminding myself how to use the iPad before Vietnam.

Oof.

The last 5 or 6 weeks- who’s counting?- have been a THING. I’ve given my parents every last thing I can and now it’s time to pass it across to my sister. I’m going to Vietnam in the morning.

This may sound bad, but I’m very happy that I booked all these holidays for 2025 before all of these things happened with my parents. Without realising it, I booked in breaks.

It’s only been a few weeks, but I can see how looking after elderly parents can take over your life.

The photo was taken today- when Dad and I were sucked into an appointment which took us 4 hours, but which could have been done over the phone. You can see that he was thoroughly impressed…

Tomorrow I fly to Vietnam. I’m only taking my iPad, so I’m doing this post to reacquaint myself with how to post this way. When I travel, it becomes second nature, but as soon as I get back I revert to the laptop and I forget.

Scout misses Mum. I brought Mum back home a couple of days ago and Scout lost her mind.

Ok. I’m going to be honest here. Putting your parents into care is awful.

Honestly, I’m a hard-faced bitch, in that, if it’s the right decision, I’ll do it. But over the last few weeks, I’ve been crushing old people’s dreams. Understandably, they’d prefer to be in the house they’ve lived in for 65 YEARS. That’s a long fucking time.

But I’m the one saying no.

Anyway, tomorrow I fly off to Vietnam. Thank fucking Christ. I know everyone in the history of the world who goes on holidays claims they deserve a break , but fuck me. I deserve a break.

I read the itinerary when I booked, then I reread it two days ago.
As I sit here after an annoying waste of time at the hospital with Dad, I think I’m going to let this holiday unfold.
I remember thinking that it all sounded good, so I hope you follow with me to see what Vietnam is like.

It’ll be an unbiased view, because I’m going in with no expectations.
However, having said that, apparently I booked a limousine drive to the airport. It was included in the tour.

WTF?

Clearly I spent too much on this holiday.
Another funny thing is that I paid for this limo driver, but it’s only free if it’s 50 KMS from Tullamarine Airport. The suburb I live in would incur an extra fee of $180.

My parents’ place, however? In the sweet spot. I arranged to be picked up at fucking 7 AM tomorrow. When I arranged it, my parents were still living there. Now, it’ll be a bit weird. I’m sitting on the front verandah…

Let’s see if I can remember to do a Dad joke:

To the thief who stole my pillow,

I will not rest until I find you.

Not drowning… waving.

Who knew there’d be so many moving parts to having one parent in hospital and moving another one into care? It’s a real time-suck, that’s for sure.

The day before Mum moved into Bonbeach, we went to my hairdresser to get beautified for Tom33 and Sophie’s engagement party. Bonbeach has its own hair salon, but I thought it would be nicer to go into the place looking well-groomed. Mum was pleased. “This is $30 cheaper than my usual hairdresser and it looks exactly the same!”

I try and get Mum in to see Dad at the hospital every second day, and by and large, this has worked out well, though a visit that should only take a couple of hours turns into an all-day event, purely because Mum moves so slowly, needs frequent toilet stops and we usually end up getting lunch. I’m nervously aware that my Vietnam trip is rapidly approaching and I’ve done nothing to prepare for it, besides organise my visa (the travel company took care of the running around for this) and buying insect repellent and malaria tablets.

Coupled with this is the angst about doing all the paperwork for Mum and Dad’s care to move from respite to residential. I’m sure I would have blogged about the mountains of paper that I had to wade through when we were applying for Mum and Dad’s ‘My Aged Care’ home help assistance last year…??

Spoiler alert – IT WAS AWFUL. Mum and Dad have far too many bank accounts, managed funds, annuities, investment properties etc. The list goes on. It took me a very long time to document it all.

Now I have to do it all again, with even more detail about their PPR.

Aside from the lump sum you have to pay to get them into a decent place, which runs into the hundreds of thousands, but is returned to the estate when the room is no longer needed, there are daily fees payable. The least that anyone can pay is 80-something per cent of the Age Pension, but self-funded retirees like my parents have to put their hands in their pockets to contribute towards the cost of their care. This ranges from $25 – $155 a day.

So Frogdancer has to go through all of these damned accounts to get the current balances etc. I suppose the good side is that I have the accounts recorded now, so it should be slightly quicker. The bad side is that now I have to get details of their family home documented, which was exempt from the previous form.

I have 10 days to get all of this submitted before I jump on a plane.

My hot tip about all of this?

Don’t leave it too long to get your and your parents’ estates simplified.

I planned to bring it up at January 2025’s meeting with their accountant and get him to start merging bank accounts and other investments. I had no idea that Dad would be in a hospital bed for all of January, or that it would become plain that Mum needs to go into care. I thought we had heaps of time. Big mistake.

Even though I’m one of three children, I’m the one left to deal with all the paperwork. My brother isn’t capable of helping after his stroke and my sister refuses. I guess I have the oldest child syndrome – even though numbers are scary to me, I’m the one who has to get these things done.

A funny thing happened yesterday. The original plan was that my father was supposed to be moved into rehab for a couple of weeks, but when Mum and I went to visit Dad yesterday, we were told that the plan had changed. He’s staying at the hospital for a week or two and then going straight to Bonbeach. (This is actually better for him, as Bonbeach has physios on staff. He’ll have someone badgering him about moving every day.)

When we left, I called my sister while I was driving home to tell her about the new plan.


I’m not happy about that!” she said. “I’m sorry to put a spanner in the works, but I want him to go to a rehab hospital like Mum went to for 2 weeks.”

“That hospital closed,” I said.

“I’m sure there are other hospitals like it,” she said. “I want him moved to a private hospital AS SOON AS POSSIBLE.”

We had had this conversation a week ago, and I actually started making the arrangements to move him to a private hospital, only for the doctors to highly recommend against moving him, as it would probably put his recovery back. At the time, my sister agreed, saying, “We have to listen to the doctors.”

Also, keep in mind that I’d only found out the day before that I had to fill out a 39-page document about my parents’ finances, and it needed to be done asap so that we would have an accurate quote for the ongoing fees at the nursing home. I was feeling a tad overwhelmed.

So when I had the demand that I had to move him to another hospital, exasperation surged and I snapped, “Ok. YOU DO IT. I’m going to be busy filling in the paperwork for Centrelink.”

“Oh, let’s just see how he goes.” was her hasty reply…

I decided to bring Mum back to my place for lunch. Scout has been missing her. Mum didn’t quite believe me when I told her this, but you should have seen that ecstatic little snag when she clapped eyes on Mum! As soon as she sat down on her place on the couch, Scout was in her lap, leaning back against her with a face full of joy.

We watched a couple of episodes of Outlander and I took a call from the hospital, where I found out about a couple of appointments Dad has for his thyroid and his voice. One is at 8:45 AM at the Alfred and I WON’T BE HERE!!! Kate and Francis will have to work out the logistics of this one.

We asked the manager of Bonbeach how they arrange transport in cases like these.

“Good question,” she said. “If you want us to arrange it, he’ll have to have a staff member go with him at $40/hour, plus the taxi fares. It gets to be quite expensive, so if you can arrange for a family member to do it, it’s far more cost-effective.”

All these things that you never think about when you’re hale and hearty!

Mum has now been living at Bonbeach for just over a week. She’s had some low times when she mourns the passing of living independently, but on the whole, she’s enjoying the uptick in her social life and the good food they’re feeding her. Dad is progressing slowly and he can’t wait to join her.

I went in to see him on my own on Thursday and took in the fees and charges for the room and their ongoing care so that he was informed. I was worried sick that he’d arck up about the cost of the room, but he was terrific, with his main concern being to find out the annual cost of the care for them both. “I don’t want to be kicked out after 3 years because I’ve run out of money!” he said. That’s another reason why this paperwork has to be done asap – to put his mind at rest.

So all in all, it’s been a wonderful start to 2025. /s

Vietnam in just under 2 weeks.

Wednesday W’s #123 – a day early.

What’s top of my mind: I’m so glad I retired!

This is the first day back at work after the summer holidays for Victorian teachers.

I woke up early in solidarity, but I can’t tell you how glad I am that I’m not having to trudge off to McKinnon to spend all day at work, particularly with what’s going on here with Mum and Dad.

The photo is one I quickly snapped when Mum got up a couple of days ago. Scout was very eager to greet her buddy on a fresh new day.

Dad is not progressing from his hip operation as well as we’d like. He’s not eating much at all, and people are shocked when they visit and see how thin and frail he looks. The new plan is for him to spend two weeks at a rehab facility starting from Friday, which I’m very pleased about. I’m sure they’ll get the cattle prod out in a smaller facility and get him moving, while it also gives Mum a chance to settle into Bonbeach, get the lay of the land, and start making some friends before Dad turns up (and starts arguing debating with people.)

Where I’m going: To Mum’s podiatrist.

Old people have a LOT of appointments, I’m discovering. After we leave there, we’ll visit Dad and then head home.

Mum goes into the aged care home after lunch tomorrow (Wednesday.) That’s why I’m posting today – I think I’ll be dealing with some emotions with Mum tomorrow…

Where I’ve been: to Costco.

I’m hosting Tom33’s engagement party on Saturday. After all this kerfuffle, I’m catering via Costco platters and a mud cake. The only thing I’m baking is some scones.

What I’m reading: Mostly dead things.

Meh. The descriptions of taxidermy are really good, but I’m still waiting for anything much to happen and I’m nearly halfway through.

What I’m watching: the news.

Mum is a news junky, so I’ve watched more news programs in the last 3 weeks than I have in the last 3 weeks. I’m looking forward to going back to a far more positive existence.

What I’m listening to: Morning TV.

Oof. See above.

What I’m eating: home-grown rhubarb and apple.

Part of my revised eating plan is stewed fruit and home-made yoghurt for breakfast, avoiding carbs for one meal at least. Yum! I’ve lost over 6KGs since Christmas Day.

What I’m planning: how to spend the 2 full days I have to prepare for the party.

My plans to use the whole month of January to prepare have obviously been thrown out the window. Instead of lovingly preparing the veggie garden beds with layers of fertiliser, mulch, compost etc, I think I’ll be throwing pea straw over everything. Hopefully, it’ll hide a multitude of sins.

Who deserves a ‘thumbs-up’: People who work in aged care.

It’s good to know that Mum will get the care she needs. Dad’s just not up to it and hasn’t really been able to provide it for a while.

What has made me smile: Scout.

She’s a funny little scrap. I’m so glad we have her.

Dad joke of the day:

Learning about aged care.

Well, the shit has pretty much hit the fan, as far as independent living for my mother is concerned. This is Mum on Sunday night, putting on a brave face.

While going to bed, she went to sit down on the foot of her bed and only half made it. She fell onto the floor and dragged her left hand across the wooden floorboards. Her skin is paper thin, so she tore a very large gash along the back of her hand.

Fortunately, Georgia and I were talking in Georgia’s room, so we were right next door when we heard the thump and the cry as she hit the ground. We raced in, helped her to sit up, but when I staunched the blood and saw the wound, I said, “Mum, this is going to need stitches.”

We spent all night at Frankston Emergency, getting home at 5 AM. We all had a long nap that afternoon, including the dog!

I’ll spare you all the photo I took of the cut on her hand.

Anyway, living with Mum for two and a half weeks has brought home just how unsteady she is on her feet. She said it herself when Evan28 rang and said to her, “Oh Gran, what have you done?”

She said, “I’m always on the brink of falling and sometimes I don’t get away with it.”

After talking with my sister Kate, I rang Mum’s case manager for her care package and asked her what the next step would be.

Long story short, I talked with a woman who finds places for people in aged care places. I knew Mum would want a shared room for when Dad comes out of the rehab hospital, and we were lucky enough for a place literally 5 minutes drive from me to have a suitable room. Shared rooms are as rare as hens’ teeth.

So Kate and I had to have ‘the talk’ with Mum about going into respite care. We were very careful not to allude to permanent care, but really, that’s what she needs. We’re crossing our fingers that the penny will drop for them once they’re there, and it will become their own idea to stay there. This apparently happes quite a lot, but I’m not holding out much hope for Dad. He’s extremely attached to his possessions.

Mum and I went to look at the place yesterday and to my relief, Mum was very impressed. She is very happy to entertain the idea of moving in for a while, but she’s worried about Dad’s reaction. She’s also scared of rushing into a decision and possibly making a mistake.

My feeling is that we were incredibly lucky to find a shared room so close to me. It’s been a week and no other shared rooms in the area have turned up, so we need to grab it. We have until tomorrow to accept or decline.

When Dad and Mum were ill a year or two ago, I started educating myself on how the Aged Care system works. I had a real ‘heads up’ from a friend who has the affectionate nickname of ‘the mayor’ who has been through this learning curve when his mother went into care a few years ago. At least I understand talk of RADs and such. I hate to think of how bamboozled I’d feel if I was coming in cold.

The facility manager recommended we hire an accountant who specialises in the ins and outs of going into care, which I thought was good advice. My parents don’t have a straightforward estate. I rang their accountant and he’s getting someone for us to talk to.

Despite Mum reading all the material and being there when the manager was showing us around, she still worries about things that aren’t issues at all, and gets things wrong. I find that I’m gently correcting her, in the hopes that the correct information goes in and she’s not needlessly fretting about the incorrect stuff.

The idea is that she’ll move in next week under respite care and Dad will join her. They’ll stay while I’m in Vietnam and hopefully by then they’ll be able to make sensible decisions about their futures. (I know… I’m an optimist.)

A lot depends on how well Dad recovers from this broken hip. It’s not a pleasant stage for them to be going through.

Dad joke of the day:

Wednesday W’s #122.

What’s top of my mind: Hospitality.

Dad has now been moved to Caulfield Rehab Hospital and he said that he was told that he’d be there for 2 weeks. I take what Dad says at the moment with a grain of salt – he’s on pretty intensive pain meds – but seeing as he can’t yet stand by himself and it’s been a week since the operation, I think he’ll be there for a fair amount of time. This, of course, means that Mum will be staying here until he’s steady enough to look after her. And himself.

Where I’m going: For more travel vaccinations.

Today is 4 weeks since I had the Yellow Fever vaccine, so now I’m free to load up on everything else I’ll need. I need quite a few different shots, seeing as I’m travelling to Africa, China, Vietnam and Borneo, so no doubt I’ll be feeling like a pincushion a couple of hours from now.

Where I’ve been: on very slow walks.

Mum goes for a walk every day, and Scout and I go with her. She uses a walker to keep herself steady, so we trot along beside her until she’s had enough and we turn and head for home. This generally doesn’t take too long.

Then Scout and I head out again for a longer walk to stretch Scout’s legs. She can’t believe it – 2 walks every day????

What I’m reading: Tender is the Flesh – Bazterrica.

This novel is terrific! It’s only 200 pages long and I enjoyed every minute of it.

What would living in a world that has legalised cannibalism be like?

This is a thumping good read.

What I’m watching: The Sopranos.

I’m up to the end of season 4. Mum has started watching it with me. She jumped right in, but she’s enjoying settling back after dinner and watching people get whacked.

What I’m listening to: Nothing much.

I can’t really listen to podcasts with Mum around, so they’re gently piling up on my iPad again. My sister came and took Mum out yesterday “to give Frogdancer a break.” I had a whole 2 hours to myself. I knocked over a couple of phone calls with Blogless Sandy and Evan28, and an episode of ‘Casefile’ before they came through the gate again.

What I’m eating: things from the garden.

Finally, the tomatoes, beans and zucchinis are producing enough for me to take them seriously. This morning I harvested rhubarb from both the red and green plants and stewed them with apple. 5 ice cube trays are now waiting to be cool enough for me to put them in the fridge.

What I’m planning: two new quilts for the lounge room.

On my second Little Adventure, I went across town to a quilting shop called Cutting Cloth and bought fabric for a quilt, coordinating with a painting I bought. The design is to use hexagons.

I hated cutting out the hexies so much that I soon put it all away in a drawer, but now I’ve roused myself to action. I’ve finished cutting out all the fabric and I’ve marked each piece with 6 dots to guide where the seams go.

Now all I need is to actually fire up the sewing machine and get started…

Who deserves a ‘thumbs-up’: Scout.

Scout has adopted Mum as one of the pack, and she sits beside her constantly. It helps that Mum likes to sneak her titbits of food. Mum has missed having a dog around, so she loves that Scout comes up for cuddles and greets her every morning when she walks into my end of the house.

What has made me smile: Mum enjoying the remote control.

I don’t watch TV during the day, so Mum has been able to watch any movie or TV show she wants. She reads as well, but so far she’s watched all 3 seasons of ‘Afterlife’, the last season of ‘Bridgerton’, ‘Where The Crawdads Sing’, ‘Memoires of a Geisha’, just to name a few.

Dad controls the remote at home, so she rarely gets to see shows that she’d like to see, particularly if they have a female protagonist.

She’s having a lovely time.

Dad Joke of the Day:

« Older posts Newer posts »