Nicole Edene
Rain can often be a nuisance. Sometimes it’s cold. Sometimes it’s a little uncomfortable. The effects of rain can be uncomfortable, disruptive, and even disruptive to plans.
However, I have found that rain gets a bad rap, especially when traveling. We feel the need to run for cover at the first sight of a few drops, but we may be more willing to jump at the chance of rain instead.
Rain has been my good friend during my travels this year. Some of my tours and river cruises have been particularly wet in some sections. During my trip with Avalon in late March, I saw a lot of the Douro River Valley in Portugal under a good umbrella. During my trip with Perillo Tours in May, I walked through the Piazza della Signoria in Florence, pondering the birth of the Renaissance from puddle to puddle.
But it was during my seven-night Mekong River cruise across Cambodia and Vietnam with Amawaterways last August that I truly discovered the beauty of travelling during the rainy season.
In many parts of the world, there are two seasons that define the year: the dry season and the rainy season. In the Mekong, the dry season runs from November to April, and the rainy season runs from May to October.
Nicole Edenedo enjoys a rainy day stroll at Hotel Rural Casa dos Viscondes da Varzea in the Douro River Valley in Portugal after a cruise with Avalon Waterways in March. Photo courtesy of Nicole Edenedo
Suppliers say most people have the misconception that it is better to travel in the dry season because it rains all day, every day during the rainy season. AmaWaterways’ bookings reflect this. The company says Mekong cruises are fully booked from November to April, but there is still plenty of space in August.
But it doesn’t rain all day. Precipitation is intermittent. It can last for an hour or two, or a little longer, for three hours. Then the rain stops, the clouds clear, the sun comes out again, and the lush, breathtaking landscapes that can be seen almost anywhere along the rice fields, countryside, or the Mekong River are a little harder to find in the dry season.
I took the 'Treasures of the Mekong' itinerary in August, starting with two days in Siem Reap, and it didn't take me long to figure out that the rainy season is the best time to see the Mekong.
Accepting the rain of the Mekong River
As you ride the bus through the countryside, it’s hard to miss the lime green sea of hundreds of acres of farmland. Fresh meadows, sprouts growing from the rice paddies, trees with lush canopies shining under the hot sun – all of these sights make for an incredibly beautiful journey.
But I thought the gloomy moments I witnessed on remote rural farms in Cambodia and Vietnam, with thick clouds gathering and the threat of rain, were better scenes. I was caught in heavy rain three times during my solo expeditions and several trips.
In Siem Reap, a few journalists and I ended our crazy hot late afternoon trip to the ancient temples of Ta Prohm and Bayon, and took a thrilling tuk-tuk ride back to our hotel, the Sofitel Angkor Phokeethra Gold & Spa Resort. All I can say is that it was a downpour. This is what a travel adventure should feel like: daring, unexpected, and completely unpredictable.
Tra Su Bird Sanctuary is a mangrove forest and wildlife attraction that can be visited by AmaWaterways guests sailing on the Mekong River. Photo courtesy of Nicole Edenedo
I was even more sobered by the rain as I toured Cambodia’s most famous killing sites in the afternoon, the sites where the Khmer Rouge regime systematically murdered and buried more than 1.3 million Cambodians in a genocide that lasted from 1975 to 1979.
When we visited Tuol Sleng (S-21), the high school where the Khmer Rouge committed their most heinous massacres, it mostly stayed dry. But shortly after that site, we visited Choeng Ek, another massacre site, where torrential rain poured down. Our tour guide provided umbrellas for everyone to use, and ponchos that could not keep out the rain. I didn’t mind getting soaked. After walking around the massacre tree and the stupas displaying human skulls and bones, I was glad that water that I didn’t make splashed on my face.
The biggest storm I’ve ever experienced was in Vietnam. We were at the Tra Su Bird Sanctuary, a guest sanctuary, when we docked in Thanh Chau. Our small boat ride through the idyllic mangrove forest to see egrets, swans, and other wildlife became even more magical when it started to rain later in the tour.
If I hadn't had an umbrella (and most of us didn't this time), I'd quickly become delighted at how little control I had over stopping the rain, and there were moments when I'd just surrender and accept the organized chaos of what was happening.
And then I realized: the Mekong is not a place to go to avoid the rain. It is a place to go to find the rain and fall in love.
