Showing posts with label Tay Ninh Province 西宁省. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Tay Ninh Province 西宁省. Show all posts
Tuesday, March 26, 2024
Thursday, May 18, 2017
金边巴域打造高速公路‧估计需10年完成
金边巴域打造高速公路‧估计需10年完成
金边和巴域(Bavet)若开通高速公路，交通运输更便利，將吸引更多游客。图为巴域国际关口。（柬埔寨星洲日报）
根据日本专家调研报告，金边市至巴域市长达170公里的高速公路项目的建造费约30亿美元，估计10年才能打造完成。
这项调研工作主要为了了解这条高速公路所发挥的经济效益，如改善和促进柬埔寨与地区的道路连通，缩短交通时间、降低运输费，减少交通事故和促进柬埔寨与邻国的贸易往来。
这条高速公路项目必將有效减少来往金边和巴域公路上的交通事故，同时將吸引更多游客，特別是使交通运输更加便利。
该高速公路项目建造费约30亿美元，由日本提供贷款援建，估计在2030年前完成整个建设工作，届时將进一步推动柬埔寨经济发展。
另外，越南方面也正在兴建一条从西寧(Tay Ninh)至胡志明市全长55公里高速公路，估计耗费5亿美元，並计划在10年內完成建设。
值得提起的是，在两国都完成建设有关上述高速公路项目后，將有力推动两国双边贸。
（柬埔寨星洲日报）
金边和巴域(Bavet)若开通高速公路，交通运输更便利，將吸引更多游客。图为巴域国际关口。（柬埔寨星洲日报）
根据日本专家调研报告，金边市至巴域市长达170公里的高速公路项目的建造费约30亿美元，估计10年才能打造完成。
这项调研工作主要为了了解这条高速公路所发挥的经济效益，如改善和促进柬埔寨与地区的道路连通，缩短交通时间、降低运输费，减少交通事故和促进柬埔寨与邻国的贸易往来。
这条高速公路项目必將有效减少来往金边和巴域公路上的交通事故，同时將吸引更多游客，特別是使交通运输更加便利。
该高速公路项目建造费约30亿美元，由日本提供贷款援建，估计在2030年前完成整个建设工作，届时將进一步推动柬埔寨经济发展。
另外，越南方面也正在兴建一条从西寧(Tay Ninh)至胡志明市全长55公里高速公路，估计耗费5亿美元，並计划在10年內完成建设。
值得提起的是，在两国都完成建设有关上述高速公路项目后，將有力推动两国双边贸。
（柬埔寨星洲日报）
Sunday, September 6, 2015
巴域木牌边界关口‧將扩大车道减堵塞
巴域木牌边界关口‧將扩大车道减堵塞
柬埔寨政府和亚洲开发银行合作，计划扩大柴楨省（Svay Rieng）巴域（Bavet）和越南木牌（Moc Bai）国际口岸的车道，以解？关口检查站堵塞现象，进一步促进两国商业和旅客往来。
据財经部通告指出，公共工程和运输部要求把巴域和木牌关口的车道，由现有的两条增加於四条，以解决因交通流量激增而出现的交通堵塞现象。
据巴域关口移民官员指出，由於现有关口车道狭窄，导致许多卡车大排长龙，目前估计每天有多达100辆卡车由越南入境我国。
公共工程和运输总局总监肯波雷指出，该局將利用亚洲开发银行提供的援助项目，以扩大关口车道至4车道，工程估计將於明年竣工。
他说，接下来，关口海关大厦也將扩大，由现有的一公顷扩大一倍，以解决堵塞和加快通关速度。
（柬埔寨星洲日报）
柬埔寨政府和亚洲开发银行合作，计划扩大柴楨省（Svay Rieng）巴域（Bavet）和越南木牌（Moc Bai）国际口岸的车道，以解？关口检查站堵塞现象，进一步促进两国商业和旅客往来。
据財经部通告指出，公共工程和运输部要求把巴域和木牌关口的车道，由现有的两条增加於四条，以解决因交通流量激增而出现的交通堵塞现象。
据巴域关口移民官员指出，由於现有关口车道狭窄，导致许多卡车大排长龙，目前估计每天有多达100辆卡车由越南入境我国。
公共工程和运输总局总监肯波雷指出，该局將利用亚洲开发银行提供的援助项目，以扩大关口车道至4车道，工程估计將於明年竣工。
他说，接下来，关口海关大厦也將扩大，由现有的一公顷扩大一倍，以解决堵塞和加快通关速度。
（柬埔寨星洲日报）
Monday, June 22, 2015
A motorbike jaunt to Tay Ninh Province
No-plan vacation: A motorbike jaunt to Tay Ninh Province
A Sunday noon worship service at the Cao Dai Holy See in the southern province of Tay Ninh.
The city of Tay Ninh lies in the heart of Tay Ninh Province, almost an even 100 kilometers from Ho Chi Minh City.
The ride is along well-travelled highways, and there are many buses back and forth if you choose to watch the scenery roll by, instead of getting a super sexy farmer’s tan.
But a rando weekend getaway on a bus? Nopers. Nuh-uh. Not when it’s so close!
It’s time for a motorbike trip!
The scenery isn’t that special for most of the trip. The first 70 km is pretty monotonous, with small houses, a burning field glimpsed behind a marble statue workshop, small stores of all kinds, bike repair stops, and hammock cafes featuring relaxing dudes watching Vietnamese soaps.
Honestly, it really feels like you’re never leaving outer HCMC for much of it, except for glances of rice paddies and larger-than-usual palm trees. It’s only once you get within the last 30-35 km that the people step back and let the beauty of this low-lying agricultural region come to the fore.
Eventually, though, you’ll reach Tay Ninh. Welcome!
The city unfortunately is nothing special – which is actually rather unusual given the inordinate amounts of tourists that come through here.
It’s surprisingly large, and yet almost impossibly dull. How is it possible that a city big enough to have city buses, several large hotels, and be the home to an entire religion could be so boring? (Actually, on second thought, that last point might be self-explanatory.)
Having said that, a trip to Tay Ninh has 2.5 things worth seriously investigating.
1. Ba Den or Black Virgin Mountain
The Black Virgin Mountain towers like Kilimanjaro over the plains of Tay Ninh
The Black Virgin Mountain towers like Kilimanjaro over the plains of Tay Ninh, most of which is just a few meters above sea level. The mountain is a different story altogether. This extinct volcano rises almost 1,000 meters out of nowhere and is a popular tourist destination for Vietnamese people, both secular and religious.
It was a focal point of conflict during the American War – it was coveted because of its status as the highest point in southern Vietnam, and because of the many local legends surrounding it.
Two-thirds of the way up the mountain is a temple complex, and it’s beautiful.
But don’t worry – although you can take the walking route to the summit (at six hours up and down, it’s a hefty time investment and a serious workout), you don’t have to exercise if you don’t want to.
There’s a modern cable car/gondola ride that takes you directly to the temple. From there, it’s a mere 1-1.5 hour hike to the summit. Fortunately we visited in the dry season, because these stairs looked like they’d be treacherous wet. But the most fun thing about this has to be the slideway. Yes, my friends. There’s a little slide car thing that lets you coast 1,700m down the side of this mountain. Yes!
Unfortunately, we were in relax mode in getting to the mountain, and the slide closes at 4 p.m. We arrived just before 4. Pretty much the only disappointment of the trip!
There are many vendors at the base of the mountain as well as within the temple grounds themselves. Hats, fish, snacks, or just a cold coconut, make sure you’re hydrated and have some calories in you! (Just in case your cable car breaks and you’re stranded on the mountain for days with no one but monks to take care of your broken body and mind. You know.)
Costs are minimal. To get into the mountain area, it costs VND16,000.
A round trip in the cable car/slideway is VND150,000.
Water can be found for VND10-15,000, and food is available everywhere.
2.0. Caodaism
The Cao Dai Holy See
Cao Dai, the religion, is so colorful, so joyful, and so... Vietnamese, for lack of a better word (well, "absurdly optimistic" might work equally well), that actually visiting and witnessing a temple ceremony in progress was a revelation.
This new-ish faith contains a multitude (literally) of deities – in fact, it was founded in the anticipation of a time when all religions would unite and universal peace would reign on Earth.
It incorporates aspects of Confucianism, Taoism, Hinduism, Christianity, and Buddhism into a syncretic whole. Despite having at least 4-6 million adherents globally, this church was only begun in 1926!
The grounds of the Holy See are peppered with colorful structures and gardens (with monkeys!), as well as helpful Caodaist groundskeepers, many of whom know a bit of English and love to talk.
Architecturally, the church walks the walk – these temples, which are remarkably consistent in design around the globe, marry Eastern and Western design ideas to create something new and weird. The temples are part-church, part-pagoda, and all color.
Of course, the music I love to hate (most traditional Vietnamese music) gets center stage in the upper balconies, where you can ascend to see the temple and faithful from above. Here’s a short video I took of the choir members and musicians:
It was a fascinating and brilliant first glimpse of Cao Dai. If only every religion included Victor Hugo as a founding saint, maybe we’d get along better.
2.5. Sidetrip: Cu Chi Tunnels
I mentioned 2.5 things to do here, right?
Ok, this is cheating. But really, despite the sheer numbers of people that come to visit Ba Den Mountain and the Cao Dai Holy See (and it’s a lot), there just isn’t much more to do in the city proper, despite how pretty and relaxing it is.
However/meanwhile, around 50 km south, on the same highway…
The Cu Chi Tunnels await!
If you do have time on your way back, do stop and check it out. You shouldn’t need more than 3-4 hours, and, since all these sights are all very close to each other, you should have no problem packing them all into a single weekend getaway.
All told, we spent a measly VND600,000 (US$30) for a fantastic weekend, at at least half of that was food and beer. Go team!
And did I mention my super sexy farmer’s tan? Because hot damn, my neck and arms! No really, so hot.
~News courtesy of Thanh Nien~
A Sunday noon worship service at the Cao Dai Holy See in the southern province of Tay Ninh.
The city of Tay Ninh lies in the heart of Tay Ninh Province, almost an even 100 kilometers from Ho Chi Minh City.
The ride is along well-travelled highways, and there are many buses back and forth if you choose to watch the scenery roll by, instead of getting a super sexy farmer’s tan.
But a rando weekend getaway on a bus? Nopers. Nuh-uh. Not when it’s so close!
It’s time for a motorbike trip!
The scenery isn’t that special for most of the trip. The first 70 km is pretty monotonous, with small houses, a burning field glimpsed behind a marble statue workshop, small stores of all kinds, bike repair stops, and hammock cafes featuring relaxing dudes watching Vietnamese soaps.
Honestly, it really feels like you’re never leaving outer HCMC for much of it, except for glances of rice paddies and larger-than-usual palm trees. It’s only once you get within the last 30-35 km that the people step back and let the beauty of this low-lying agricultural region come to the fore.
Eventually, though, you’ll reach Tay Ninh. Welcome!
The city unfortunately is nothing special – which is actually rather unusual given the inordinate amounts of tourists that come through here.
It’s surprisingly large, and yet almost impossibly dull. How is it possible that a city big enough to have city buses, several large hotels, and be the home to an entire religion could be so boring? (Actually, on second thought, that last point might be self-explanatory.)
Having said that, a trip to Tay Ninh has 2.5 things worth seriously investigating.
1. Ba Den or Black Virgin Mountain
The Black Virgin Mountain towers like Kilimanjaro over the plains of Tay Ninh
The Black Virgin Mountain towers like Kilimanjaro over the plains of Tay Ninh, most of which is just a few meters above sea level. The mountain is a different story altogether. This extinct volcano rises almost 1,000 meters out of nowhere and is a popular tourist destination for Vietnamese people, both secular and religious.
It was a focal point of conflict during the American War – it was coveted because of its status as the highest point in southern Vietnam, and because of the many local legends surrounding it.
Two-thirds of the way up the mountain is a temple complex, and it’s beautiful.
But don’t worry – although you can take the walking route to the summit (at six hours up and down, it’s a hefty time investment and a serious workout), you don’t have to exercise if you don’t want to.
There’s a modern cable car/gondola ride that takes you directly to the temple. From there, it’s a mere 1-1.5 hour hike to the summit. Fortunately we visited in the dry season, because these stairs looked like they’d be treacherous wet. But the most fun thing about this has to be the slideway. Yes, my friends. There’s a little slide car thing that lets you coast 1,700m down the side of this mountain. Yes!
Unfortunately, we were in relax mode in getting to the mountain, and the slide closes at 4 p.m. We arrived just before 4. Pretty much the only disappointment of the trip!
There are many vendors at the base of the mountain as well as within the temple grounds themselves. Hats, fish, snacks, or just a cold coconut, make sure you’re hydrated and have some calories in you! (Just in case your cable car breaks and you’re stranded on the mountain for days with no one but monks to take care of your broken body and mind. You know.)
Costs are minimal. To get into the mountain area, it costs VND16,000.
A round trip in the cable car/slideway is VND150,000.
Water can be found for VND10-15,000, and food is available everywhere.
2.0. Caodaism
The Cao Dai Holy See
Cao Dai, the religion, is so colorful, so joyful, and so... Vietnamese, for lack of a better word (well, "absurdly optimistic" might work equally well), that actually visiting and witnessing a temple ceremony in progress was a revelation.
This new-ish faith contains a multitude (literally) of deities – in fact, it was founded in the anticipation of a time when all religions would unite and universal peace would reign on Earth.
It incorporates aspects of Confucianism, Taoism, Hinduism, Christianity, and Buddhism into a syncretic whole. Despite having at least 4-6 million adherents globally, this church was only begun in 1926!
The grounds of the Holy See are peppered with colorful structures and gardens (with monkeys!), as well as helpful Caodaist groundskeepers, many of whom know a bit of English and love to talk.
Architecturally, the church walks the walk – these temples, which are remarkably consistent in design around the globe, marry Eastern and Western design ideas to create something new and weird. The temples are part-church, part-pagoda, and all color.
Of course, the music I love to hate (most traditional Vietnamese music) gets center stage in the upper balconies, where you can ascend to see the temple and faithful from above. Here’s a short video I took of the choir members and musicians:
It was a fascinating and brilliant first glimpse of Cao Dai. If only every religion included Victor Hugo as a founding saint, maybe we’d get along better.
2.5. Sidetrip: Cu Chi Tunnels
I mentioned 2.5 things to do here, right?
Ok, this is cheating. But really, despite the sheer numbers of people that come to visit Ba Den Mountain and the Cao Dai Holy See (and it’s a lot), there just isn’t much more to do in the city proper, despite how pretty and relaxing it is.
However/meanwhile, around 50 km south, on the same highway…
The Cu Chi Tunnels await!
If you do have time on your way back, do stop and check it out. You shouldn’t need more than 3-4 hours, and, since all these sights are all very close to each other, you should have no problem packing them all into a single weekend getaway.
All told, we spent a measly VND600,000 (US$30) for a fantastic weekend, at at least half of that was food and beer. Go team!
And did I mention my super sexy farmer’s tan? Because hot damn, my neck and arms! No really, so hot.
~News courtesy of Thanh Nien~
Saturday, August 31, 2013
A lesson in leisure from Tay Ninh
A lesson in leisure from Tay Ninh
As Vietnam reduces every attractive destination to sheer kitsch, locals who are being themselves save the day
Cao Dai adherents sweep up around the all-seeing eye at the religion's Holy See in Tay Ninh Province following noon mass. If you avoid the trashy tours, watching a ceremony there can be a pretty transcendent. Photo by Calvin Godfrey
A trip to Tay Ninh sounded like the most perfunctory vacation that one could muster in Saigon.
Busses left from the backpacker district every day, heralding hungover Australian 20-somethings into the Cao Dai’s Holy See to snap a few pictures and snigger.
I imagined these trips being led by a wise-cracking RMIT alum eager to make fun of everything about his own country before the foreigners had a chance.
So I never went.
Last Friday, a friend from Stockholm convinced me to get up early and drive down the blue line on his iPhone toward the stunning grounds of the Technicolor temple.
The Cao Dai’s Holy See sits on a campus of bright administrative buildings and old colonial rubber plantations. We arrived just before the noon mass and left my bike next to a tin shack on the edge of the grounds in the care of two old volunteers watching TV in hammocks strung under a tin shack.
Graham Greene famously described the place as a something of a cartoon spectacle.
A tall rearing tiger rears up on hits hind legs atop a copula painted like a half a globe. Jesus and Buddha and Confucius hang together on the ceiling. The Masonic eye peers out at you from high places.
My companion and I doffed our shoes and fell in line behind a French family as they plodded up the stairs to the viewing gallery.
What struck Greene as silly felt powerful, even hopeful, now. A chorus of young women chanted over one-string zithers sending sounds radiating down the shrinking, 100-yard hall to be answered by a disembodied voice at the other end. Only believers on the ground could see where it came from.
From above, the sight of the believers conspired to evoke the “oceanic” feeling that Freud attributed to the end of breastfeeding. But all of this felt much bigger than boobs. It rivaled black gospel Sundays, Thai meditation sessions and my grandmother’s funeral for atmospheric weight.
It left me with a feeling that made my ears tingle and my soul a wee bit ascendant.
And then an usher began shuttling all of the foreigners out into the sunlight.
The good feeling quickly evaporated when a slick young guide began torturing a pair of baby monkeys to get a rise out of their mother for the sake of a group of fat, nonplussed tourists.
We walked away from the crows to take tea with the ushers, who were watching a hurricane slowly move toward China and Northern Vietnam from their hammocks. They asked us our ages and about our love lives. They offered us cigarettes and asked about our families.
With the rest of the afternoon to go and a kind of spiritual craving still tugging at our hearts, we headed toward the imposing mountain jutting up into the clouds on the horizon.
Cao Dai graves are always oriented in the direction of this inexplicable bump in the pancake-flat expanse of the Mekong Delta.
The headline legend of Nui Ba Den (young maiden jumps to death to remain faithful to lover fighting foreign invaders) appealed to our moods and we headed toward its dark silhouette through brief but powerful downpours.
Control of the mountain has always been key to Vietnam’s survival. During the liberation war against the French, revolutionary soldiers hid in the caves that dot its base.
During the Vietnam War, the US Special Forces erected massive radio antennae on the peak to intercept transmissions between liberation forces.
After endless bombardments and raids, the forces streaming down the Ho Chi Minh Trail retook the mountain, stashing several American POWs in the caves they’d once hidden in.
Now, the mountain has been swallowed by an amusement park with virtually nothing in it.
We arrived at four and bought ten tickets for a blue tractor-turned-train tram emblazoned with a red star. Then, at the base of the new cable car, we argued with vendors about why we had to buy ten tickets to go up and come down the mountain.
In the end, it was a matter of company policy.
But the sun was setting and the leering concrete animal statues that filled the space gave the place a cheap, haunted Scooby Doo atmosphere.
By the time we returned to the parking lot, dogs had been set loose. The heavy-lidded attendant let them bark and snap at our ankles as we sped onto the road back to town.
On the ride through the gloaming we paused at a Cao Dai monastery to peer into the garden. Instead, strict nuns arranged us in front of an altar and taught us to genuflect before a small altar containing a painting of the all-seeing eye.
When all this was done, we had tea with the abbot—a smiling, shorn man who invited us to a vegetarian meal just as the sun set into purple rainclouds.
On the drive back, I couldn’t help but think that every effort to capitalize on the things that makes Vietnam beautiful inevitably reduces those things to a poorly maintained roadside attraction.
It is the people, every time, who save it again and again.
~News courtesy of Thanh Nien News~
As Vietnam reduces every attractive destination to sheer kitsch, locals who are being themselves save the day
Cao Dai adherents sweep up around the all-seeing eye at the religion's Holy See in Tay Ninh Province following noon mass. If you avoid the trashy tours, watching a ceremony there can be a pretty transcendent. Photo by Calvin Godfrey
A trip to Tay Ninh sounded like the most perfunctory vacation that one could muster in Saigon.
Busses left from the backpacker district every day, heralding hungover Australian 20-somethings into the Cao Dai’s Holy See to snap a few pictures and snigger.
I imagined these trips being led by a wise-cracking RMIT alum eager to make fun of everything about his own country before the foreigners had a chance.
So I never went.
Last Friday, a friend from Stockholm convinced me to get up early and drive down the blue line on his iPhone toward the stunning grounds of the Technicolor temple.
The Cao Dai’s Holy See sits on a campus of bright administrative buildings and old colonial rubber plantations. We arrived just before the noon mass and left my bike next to a tin shack on the edge of the grounds in the care of two old volunteers watching TV in hammocks strung under a tin shack.
Graham Greene famously described the place as a something of a cartoon spectacle.
A tall rearing tiger rears up on hits hind legs atop a copula painted like a half a globe. Jesus and Buddha and Confucius hang together on the ceiling. The Masonic eye peers out at you from high places.
My companion and I doffed our shoes and fell in line behind a French family as they plodded up the stairs to the viewing gallery.
What struck Greene as silly felt powerful, even hopeful, now. A chorus of young women chanted over one-string zithers sending sounds radiating down the shrinking, 100-yard hall to be answered by a disembodied voice at the other end. Only believers on the ground could see where it came from.
From above, the sight of the believers conspired to evoke the “oceanic” feeling that Freud attributed to the end of breastfeeding. But all of this felt much bigger than boobs. It rivaled black gospel Sundays, Thai meditation sessions and my grandmother’s funeral for atmospheric weight.
It left me with a feeling that made my ears tingle and my soul a wee bit ascendant.
And then an usher began shuttling all of the foreigners out into the sunlight.
The good feeling quickly evaporated when a slick young guide began torturing a pair of baby monkeys to get a rise out of their mother for the sake of a group of fat, nonplussed tourists.
We walked away from the crows to take tea with the ushers, who were watching a hurricane slowly move toward China and Northern Vietnam from their hammocks. They asked us our ages and about our love lives. They offered us cigarettes and asked about our families.
With the rest of the afternoon to go and a kind of spiritual craving still tugging at our hearts, we headed toward the imposing mountain jutting up into the clouds on the horizon.
Cao Dai graves are always oriented in the direction of this inexplicable bump in the pancake-flat expanse of the Mekong Delta.
The headline legend of Nui Ba Den (young maiden jumps to death to remain faithful to lover fighting foreign invaders) appealed to our moods and we headed toward its dark silhouette through brief but powerful downpours.
Control of the mountain has always been key to Vietnam’s survival. During the liberation war against the French, revolutionary soldiers hid in the caves that dot its base.
During the Vietnam War, the US Special Forces erected massive radio antennae on the peak to intercept transmissions between liberation forces.
After endless bombardments and raids, the forces streaming down the Ho Chi Minh Trail retook the mountain, stashing several American POWs in the caves they’d once hidden in.
Now, the mountain has been swallowed by an amusement park with virtually nothing in it.
We arrived at four and bought ten tickets for a blue tractor-turned-train tram emblazoned with a red star. Then, at the base of the new cable car, we argued with vendors about why we had to buy ten tickets to go up and come down the mountain.
In the end, it was a matter of company policy.
But the sun was setting and the leering concrete animal statues that filled the space gave the place a cheap, haunted Scooby Doo atmosphere.
By the time we returned to the parking lot, dogs had been set loose. The heavy-lidded attendant let them bark and snap at our ankles as we sped onto the road back to town.
On the ride through the gloaming we paused at a Cao Dai monastery to peer into the garden. Instead, strict nuns arranged us in front of an altar and taught us to genuflect before a small altar containing a painting of the all-seeing eye.
When all this was done, we had tea with the abbot—a smiling, shorn man who invited us to a vegetarian meal just as the sun set into purple rainclouds.
On the drive back, I couldn’t help but think that every effort to capitalize on the things that makes Vietnam beautiful inevitably reduces those things to a poorly maintained roadside attraction.
It is the people, every time, who save it again and again.
~News courtesy of Thanh Nien News~
Tuesday, August 6, 2013
Thursday, July 4, 2013
Friday, May 24, 2013
Friday, October 26, 2012
Saturday, September 8, 2012
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