The ferry was almost empty and with no delays we set off across the huge (to me) river. They were pumping vast quantities of water into the truly extensive irrigation systems.
Its very much rice planting season, the seedlings are grown to about 4 inches under small poly tunnels and then put in fertiliser bags that are laid out in position alongside the water-flooded and tilled paddy fields. Its a back breaking business, knee deep in mud & water bent over and planting each seedling by hand & mostly done by women but whole families were sometimes to be spotted.
I was pleased to be routed through the clean swept narrow streets past shop-houses and schools. School kids on ebikes and scooters are a major hazard. Most of the kids want to practice their English but more often than not they clam-up with embarrassment when you stop to chat.
There was a constant background humming noise, how mysterious said Rupert bear, and like him I went to explore. It was static humming kites.
There was a wood-village, most of the dwellings and workplaces were stuffed with massive hardwood logs and cut timber for the whole length of the busy place.
A few km from the Farm stay I spotted locals drinking draft Bia so of course I stopped to whet my whistle.
Spent a hungry hour trying to locate the 24×7 reception but it’s off site. Giang to the rescue and I got let into my sparse room only to find they’d locked the outer gates and legged it. No food! Giang roused them and I got a key and food and beer.
Place holdet