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Published: August 6th 2007
Onwards
Deeper into the island we moved.The Mekong Delta
I am in love with the Mekong, and as a part of my travels I want to see it in as many places as I can. So far I’ve traced its course from Phnom Penh north to Chiang Khong in Thailand, and while in Saigon it was imperative that I see it at its mouth.
Thus began my second day tour out of HCMC. Of course, in my usual style it was quite an effort to raise myself from bed in time to catch the bus and I spent the entire journey south asleep (much to the annoyance of our tour guide who was a small Vietnamese girl who talked as though she was Lily Allen’s sister. Actually, while on that point, I should mention that the tour guide I had on the trip to the Cu Chi tunnels spoke like an Australian complete with rhyming slang. Perhaps it is a requirement of that tour company that guides have some quirky form of English?). Once at the shore of the Mekong, which at that point in its course is a wide, calm, muddy, and ever so slightly tidal river very much unlike its northern sections, we
First Glimpse
First sight of the Mekong in Vietnam. boarded our first boat for the day and I settled in for a relaxing boat cruise for the next few hours.
Alas, the boat trip only lasted ten minutes and we were promptly deposited on the closest island to the mainland. Fair enough thought I as we began walking along the shoreline, there must be something interesting to see on the island, right? Well, that question was answered over the next few hours as an unsure “yes, but no”. First stop was a store where we were provided with free samples of all the honey products (along with some other products) that they made. I was sitting with an Australian couple and we quickly tucked into the Banana and rice wines while periodically nibbling on what was around us. In the end we determined that no matter what we ate we would require a drink of honey tea to wash the taste away afterwards, most of the things there were truly repugnant. The last thing that we tried was labeled as Queen Bee Milk Extract. Hmmm, what is that? Does anyone know? Is it even edible? What I can tell you is this: it comes in small sealed containers,
River Touts
These people row tourists up and down this canal all day. Shouldn't they be farming? costs $10 per 20mL (which we narrowly avoided paying after opening two of them), and tastes almost, but not quite, entirely inedible. Just thin of the slimiest, sourest, most overpowering taste that you have ever encountered, and then imagine eating a candle that tasted just like that. I haven’t died yet, so it can’t have been poisonous.
After that adventure we were all feeling a little less like sampling local cuisine, so at lunch time we settled for fried noodles and beer. You could pick the Australians out of our tour group; we were the six loud people at the end table who never stopped asking for more beers. Everyone else was polite and drinking club sodas, but what else will six Aussies do at 12pm on a hot day other than drink and talk about footy?
During the afternoon we were scheduled to take small boats along a canal type passage into the heart of an island. In true river delta fashion it was next to impossible to discern which land masses were separate islands or whether we were in a mini-river, especially once the palm trees began to enclose the entire passage with cooling green foliage.
Riverboat
A couple of boats in the canal. I almost got onto the bow and started looking for natives in the mist in another one of my Apocalypse Now fantasies, but I restrained myself. I have to say that the trip up that canal was one of the most beautiful river scenes that I have ever seen. To make things even better, at the end of the boat ride we visited a coconut-candy shop!
Saigon by Night
So far I haven’t told you much about what I got up to in Saigon itself, with good reason. Essentially the entire five nights can be surmised into some very short sentences:
After stuffing my face full of at least three plates of Vietnamese food I would head down to a bia hoi place (street beer which I was buying at a rate of 50 cents or less per two liters) where I would meet some random strangers, or perhaps some friends that I had met the night before as random strangers. Following a few beers there (one night we managed to knock over an astounding 28 liters of the stuff between about 10 of us) we would head to the only bar worth knowing in the
More Boats
In a canal in the Mekong delta. area: Go2. The subsequent hours were then spent by dancing with as many girls as possible as most of the men in the room were too smart/sober to be bothered entertaining them.
Night after night this process repeated itself; mostly against my will, I swear! And night after night I retired to bed feeling as though I had sweated out more than my own body weight. Of course, I was staying in a dormitory which most of the time didn’t have a fan let alone air-con so the problem continued until morning when I could find time to shower - it must be noted that although the dorm had little in the way of comforts, it did contain some of the most interesting people I have met: an Aussie who had been living without money or an ATM card for several weeks, a Russian who shaved and brushed his teeth for at least two hours every evening, another Aussie who laughed like a hyena (no joke) and called me Skippy for some reason, a Japanese guy who’s only discernable talent was to play thumb-wars, and a staff who roamed the rooms at night in bike-racing gear trying to shake
everyone’s hands.
During my time in Vietnam I have made dozens of new friends, and due to the linear nature of the country they all seemed to by in Saigon while I was (two of them slept in and missed their bus which resulted in $100 worth of overstaying fees at the border) and this resulted in some seriously large partying. At the bar it was almost guaranteed that I would known at least half of the people there; whether they were my Danish friends, my English friends, my Dutch friends, or even two girls that I had met in Bangkok over two months ago, I was guaranteed to fall into bad company as soon as I arrived. When the entire club/bar crowd knows each other you end up with one hell of a good time.
Now, in case I have alienated people with the above descriptions of debauchery, I will now embarrass myself by telling you a short tale. One night I went to Go2 with two English girls that I had met the previous night (also at Go2) and a Dutch friend, Lucas, who we had run into on the street. However, the girls had to
Ni Almost Drowns
Ni, our tour leader, couldn't swim but nearly died trying. work the following day as they are volunteers for a orphanage in Saigon and they left us. This led to Lucas and I searching the club for someone new to talk to, and voila, there were two nice Singaporean girls (of European descent) dancing right next to us. Of course we introduced ourselves with our premier dance moves, the sprinkler on my behalf, and making boxes by Lucas, which proved to be sufficiently entertaining for them to invite us into their group.
Sometime later in the evening I was outside talking to one of the girls, asking her about what she does, when she told me that she was “just finishing school”. Now, if you meet an American that would mean university, but subsequently I found out that she actually meant school. She was 17! At this point I chose cut and run as my tactic, politely of course, but with as much haste as possible. However, I couldn’t leave before she had asked me what I did, and when I said that I had just finished uni she had to ask how old I was. I said 23, she looked shocked, she said “oh, I thought you were
18, that’s a big age difference”, I agreed and ran away screaming. Isn’t it fair to assume that people out drinking in a club are over 18? How was I to know? I felt well disgusted with myself for not being more astute and I have now vowed not to dance with anyone who appears younger than 30, that way I’ll be safe from these predatory teenagers. And seriously, I don’t look 18 do I?
To Hanoi in Maximum Comfort
Saigon had got to me, it was too good, too exciting, and far too dangerous. I had to escape. Also, I had to get a Chinese visa in Hanoi before I ran out of time. With these ideas racing through my head I rashly booked a train ticked on the Reunification Express.
If you have ever read a tourist brochure about the reunification express you have been mislead. The romantic train journey through the tropical orient, a trip to surpass all others save the Ghan and the Trans-Siberian, was not in the slightest bit romantic. Perhaps that is because I chose to take a hard sleeper instead of the 1st class option, or perhaps it is
Watching the World Go By
The boat driver took a break and let a tour guide drive. Smart move buddy... because the journey is a 34.5 hour monstrosity without the basic amenity of a shower during which the majority of the scenery is field after field of rice paddy. Either way, I did the journey because I had to get to Hanoi, not because I wanted to experience life on the rails.
My cabin was spacious enough, I had a top bunk of three and the cabin only had four inhabitants instead of the expected six. Additionally, a young Frenchman was sharing the room so we jumped right into the “lets make so fun so the journey goes faster” routine. This entailed a falang hunt where we scoured the train for all westerners while carrying Oreos, raunchy playing cards, and bad Vietnamese vodka - perfect implements for forging friendships. Out of all 16 carriages there were only three westerners, less than I had hoped for but enough for a card game in the aisle. In actuality, the only place we could find to sit where we could all fit was right in front of the toilet; hardly ideal for comfort. Nevertheless the night passed quickly until we retired to our beds. This is where things turned bad.
I
can stand Karaoke, I can handle Vietnamese Variety shows, but I cannot handle Vietnamese train music. It is loud (our volume control was broken), electronic, and not performed well enough to make the songs truly distinguishable. Above all though, the music is continuous for most of the journey, only stopping between midnight and 6am or when an announcement is broadcast. Can you imagine trying to sleep through loud, electronic, Asian music while the cabin lights are still on and the air-conditioner has ceased functioning?
The second day of the journey proved to be the hardest as there was little to do other than listen to music, read books, and scoff sugary delights. I will admit that the scenery was nice for an hour as we passed through the mountains north of Danang (see my previous journal about the trip to Hoi An), but other than that the romantic element was entirely lacking. Furthermore, the food served on the train was cold and comparatively tasteless when compared with Styrofoam (I do not recommend for you to try eating Styrofoam at home, it irritates the tongue like you wouldn’t believe).
One thing which sticks in my memory from the train
journey is the camaraderie which formed in our cabin. Despite the fact that the local family we were sharing with could not speak more than three words in either French or English we managed to communicate on a basic level and we gained a level of trust. By the end of the day the parents entrusted the two of us westerners with looking after their two year old daughter while they quickly bought some food from a vendor at the station. To pay us back they bought spring rolls for the entire cabin at dinner-time (note that dinner-time is used in a loose sense as Vietnamese train directors seem to work on a very different schedule to the rest of us).
On the morning of the third day the train pulled into Hanoi station at 5:30am. Two hundred smelly, dirty, tired and surly passengers alighted to a scene of pre-dawn dirtiness and taxi-touts. There is something about Hanoi which just exudes oppressiveness, or perhaps it was just my mood, but as we walked towards a hotel and turned along successive streets named Hang Bong, Hang Man and Hung Guy I couldn’t help thinking that this was the governments subtle
Into the Canal
The beautiful canal with candy at its end. way of subconsciously informing people of the penalties for drug use. Nevertheless, I love a big city, exploring it and finding those little secrets is what gets me going.
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Bill
non-member comment
Nerd!
You spend more time on the computer than I do!!!! Get back out there and do stuff!! (But its great to read of your great adventures, and see the pictures. I appreciate the time you are taking to share all of your wonderful experiences!)