On the move in the Mekong Delta

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The days after leaving the tranquil idyllic Phu Quoc could not have contrasted more with the lazy days we spent there. Planes, taxis, buses, taxis, boats, taxis, minibuses, cyclos, tuk-tuks and taxis all blur together as we look back at it. With less forward planning that usual (Nicky had decided it was time for some hardcore travelling and refused to consult our lonely planet bible for this section of the trip) we have been more at the mercy of the touts hanging around at the bus stations. Some of the lies have been hilarious such as the guy trying to fill the last places in his battered bus telling us that Mai Linh (a huge transport operation with buses, taxis and minibuses all over SE Asia) had no buses on a given day, or the cyclo driver at a bus station 2km from Chau Doc telling us there were no taxis, we laughed, but he looked unabashed as we drove past him in one a minute later. Things have been dull for long periods while sat still, then hectic and manic until our next need is met but we have enjoyed it nonetheless.

From PQ we flew to Saigon, took a taxi to the bus station and booked ourselves on the next bus to Vinh Long, a small town in the heart of the Mekong Delta. While the others sat and waited I went foraging. I returned with baguette, cheese triangles, peanuts, dumplings and prawn crackers to find them gone, but soon Nicky fetched me and took me to the bus. Mai Linh, our chosen travel company is such a huge operation that it even has its own services, liveried in white and green like the vehicles it was a clean and efficient place, and served us the best chicken noodle soup we have had, reminiscent of the chicken noodle soup in the Canton Express on Sauchihall Street but better.

Arriving in Vinh Long in the early evening we wondered if we had made the wrong decision and even considered getting back on the bus and trying our luck in the next town, but bus depots are never the most salubrious parts of town, as anyone who has been to Digbeth especially in the old days can testify. With no hotel reservation and no likely prospects spied from the bus on the way in, we had no choice but to put ourselves in the hands of a local taxi driver, who seemed a little confused by our instruction to ‘take us to a nice hotel’. The taxi to town did not show us much better though, and we erroneously comforted ourselves with the fact that at least it would be cheap. Instead lack of competition meant we were paying almost as much as we paid at the Apsara for one of the dodgier hotels of the trip. At least we had a suite. There were no restaurants into which the boys could be tempted, and in the end we bought provisions between a street market (bread and fruit) and a supermarket (cheese triangles again, drinks and biscuits). We enjoyed a picnic in our suite, washed down with the most delicious green jasmine tea, sachets of which replaced the otherwise standard Lipton. After our accommodation experience we decided to spend the rest of the evening searching the internet for hotels for our next few desinations.

Breakfast was nearly as poor as the infamous Mama Chop in the Taman Negara in a fly ridden restaurant that did at least overlook the river. We were not sorry to leave, and as our taxi delivered us back to the bus station we reflected that it was not surprising that Vinh Long is off the usual tourist track. Our next stop Can Tho is the largest city in the Mekong Delta and when we arrived there we headed for a hotel with whom we had booked. They had said a twin would be fine for 4, and we have experienced many twins with 2 double beds, but one look at the small singles not to mention the stale smell and mucky carpets disabused us of this notion.

Leaving the others guarding luggage I traipsed round town in the lunch time heat assessing all options. Many were full, and others offered too small, too smelly or far too expensive. Eventually I settled on a new riverside hotel that was a little more than we had intended to pay, but genuinely lovely: spacious light and clean (at least until we arrived) and the boys were overjoyed to discover it even had cartoon network! We dozed while the boys topped up on Ben 10 and Tom and Jerry before heading out to organise a boat trip to the floating market (Jake wondering why - we are travelling all the time anyway, so why go on a boat?)

We dragged the boys from their pits at 05:30 the next morning for a rapid breakfast before taking a small and uncomfortable boat out to the floating market. We were fascinated by the produce and processes and the boys read and listened to HP. Some of the sights along the way were fascinating: people bathing and even brushing teeth in the filthy river water: a variety of ingenious building solutions like cut up tyres as roof tiles and cut open plastic bottles as guttering; all manner of floating vessels from tiny to huge carrying cargos from a few coconuts to vast loads of aggregates. After a 4 hour round trip we returned to the hotel, packed and got a taxi to the bus station, this time bound for Chau Doc, a small town on the Vietnam/Cambodia border.

Chau Doc is described as a charming town in our Guide book but we missed that bit. We did find a stinking market - the foulest we have experienced- and an overcrowded riverside. After our previous few hotel experiences we decided to check the room out again before checking in. Elliot pronounced the room acceptable but then asked if he could see the Suite instead. It doesn’t take long raise his expectations. The highlight of our stay was a spectacular thunder storm and watching people scurrying about from our balcony. The food that night was the worst for a long time. Nicky did best with her “Egg plant in a clay pot” though it was nowhere near the standard of the ones prepared at our cookery school in Hoi An; the boys tried valiantly with an awful vegetable and tofu stir fry, at least the rice was separate and they managed that; my thai curry was indescribably bad so I won’t try, suffice to say that when I finished it Nicky said “I don’t know if I am impressed or disgusted”.

The high speed boat up the Mekong the next day took us up into Cambodia via short border stops. The journey was ok but the boat a touch crowded. The customs was probably the friendliest we have ever encountered, with relaxed guards on both sides, where we sat either in a café to wait (leaving Vietnam) or in a pleasant garden (arriving Cambodia). They were also welcome opportunities to stretch out and leave the boat.

We often realise how glad we are that we are doing this independently and there were other reminders at the hotel in Can Tho, on the boat and as we disembarked in Phnom Penh. On all occasions we heard guides telling their groups what to do and including the phrase “Then you have an hour of free time before dinner.” The last thing we want on holiday is someone telling us what we are to do and when we can have the luxury of free time for an hour.

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