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Published: February 26th 2013
A desperate man trying to escape ...
Hopefully the wooly hat can be packed away for the next 4 months!'Oh, it's good to touch the Green, Green Suites of home!' So the famous Tom Jones song goes - with a little adaptation by my good self! But it really is a little like 'coming home'! Danny Yum, the security guard/kitchen porter/waiter/odd job man/ and various other responsibilities, gives us each a huge bear hug and greets us like long-lost relations - and I'm not even convinced he was here when we last stayed! Lang, the charming young Vietnamese receptionist, has a hugh smile and greets us through misty eyes! If we ever had any doubt about it, we have been sorely missed! We have arrived at the Green Suites, carrying our backpacks through a mass of late night diners who sit on primary school sized plastic chairs in the tiny alleyways and gradually spread and grow in number like a scoop of melting ice cream.
We are shown to our room which is spotlessly tidy and crispy clean and, after a quick shot of rum and coke (knockout drops - as if we needed them!) we collapse into bed for a long, refreshing sleep. We have been travelling for a thousand hours from Torquay. Two flights - Gatport Airwick
I think I have found it.
I didn't think my Vietnamese was that funny?! to Dubai and Dubai to HCMC! with a three hour stop off in Dubai in order to give Costa Coffee at the airport enough time to rip us off with an expensive coffee and almond crossant!
We have, as you will doubtless remember dear reader, had a brief fling with Ho Chi Minh City (or Saigon if you prefer) when we visited two years ago but then we were in a hurry to get to Cambodia - now we have a chance to snuggle up close and get to know each other better! Incidentally the name of the city really depends loosely on your political affiliation and place of birth. Some in the south were reluctant to embrace their long lost communist cousins in the north and, even now cling to the old colonial name. The two names seem equally acceptable to the locals but belie traces of long remembered feuds and grudges.
Saigon has so many personalities, so many moods and - so very many people! She is a massive swarm of humanity which spans every size, shape and colour. This is the world capital of people watching! Sit at a little bar on any corner of
any street and soon enough you will see every hue, shape and possible variation of the human form pass before your eyes! It is simply fascinating to see the infinite variety of man and womankind!
The car has its place in Saigon but is hughly outnumbered by the ubiquitous motor scooter. These little buzzing flies swarm and cluster along every street drowning the multitide of taxis and cars. Sprinkle this scene with a large pinch of tourist coaches and souse with hoards of people and you begin to get the flavour of the chaotic streets of Saigon. Oh, and just for good measure, and to liven things up even more - remove any trace of a traffic lights and road signs. Remarkably there appear to be few bad accidents here - the situation would certainly justify all kinds of carnage! At each crossroads the various means of transport all slow down to a manageable pace and skilfully navigate around their fellow road users. There appears to be no understanding of the understandable potential for the presence of road rage. In a terribly gentle and patient manner the traffic winds and swirls around itself, carefully avoiding collisions! This patient tollerance
gives an insight into the gentle and respectful world of the Vietnamese people.
There is however little or no respect for the faded zebra crossings which are dotted about the city.To cross the road you must place your life in the hands of the oncoming traffic! The alternative is to forever stay on the wrong side of the road and wait for your Red Cross parcels to arrive. It is against everything your mother ever taught you, but with white kuckles and racing heart you step out into the very vortex of the swirling traffic soup! Miraculously, if you continue to move at a steady pace you invariably reach the other side where a stiff drink is called for! The traffic appears to circulate around you as you become tiny moving islands in a raging river of metal.
With Janie recovering from a bout of shingles - no not the stuff you find on the beach, Melody!! We decided to relax and recover in HCMC for 4 whole days. This has given us the chance to cozy up to the real beauty that is Saigon. On our first visit we doubted that such beauty existed but this time
she revealed herself to us in her true glory.
The whole of the City was still blanketed with flowers which hung on huge gantries over the roads. Yes, it was still Tet - Vietnamese New Year. And the Vietnamese certainly know how to celebrate a New Year. Depending on who you talk to the celebrations go on for several days/weeks/or even the whole month of February. This year it is the year of the Snake. Everywhere there are snake-type posters - some of which bear an uncanny resemblance to the cartoon 'Hissing Sid'. Flowers, mainly yellow for good luck, adorn every shop and temple. There is even a huge pink plastic tree outside the Opera House - no I don't understand the signficance either! Multinational corporations spend large amounts of money to create massive set piece displays on roundabouts and other vacant pieces of land. Their names are promenantly displayed and no expense is spared. It is as if they wish to persuade the onlookers that Tet is THEIR idea and they're paying for it!
We spent one day wandering about trying to get a handle on 'District 1', the Backpackers' Area in which we are encamped! Even
the locals who live here tell you it's 'a little mad'! Everywhere are the bright colours of tacky restaurants, girly bars and shops of all manner. We particularly like Sozo. This is a coffee bar which gives work training to the vulnerable children of HCMC. The poster at the entrance begs you to be patient with the staff who are all trainees! A really pleasant and happy environment and one in which you feel you might be doing some good. They do a marvellous line in cakes and pastries and long fresh fruit drinks!
We eventually stumbled across the first of our intended goals. This is the glorious chaos of the Ben Thanh Market. This is an indoor rugby scrum of a market where all traders instantly become your best friends and plead with you to buy something/anything from their tiny cramped stalls. The gap between these stalls is about 4 feet and there are hundreds of them selling everything. The heat is intense. You realise that it is not raining indoors - it is the perspiration pouring from every part of your gently roasting body! Indeed, one of the few items not sold here is meat, perhaps because
On the street where we live
A winding maze of little alleyways it would cook itself by the end of the day! The whole scene is a blaze of colour, noise, 'odours' and milling masses. Janie tried to buy a pair of shoes but even her new best friend could not find her the correct size. Vietnamese women have the smallest of small feet, and even the very largest shoes is not large enough for the European foot. The new best friend's attempt to squeeze Janies foots into a size 3 shoe fails!
Onward then to the Saigon Opera House about half a mile down the road in the very poshest of posh parts of town. This area is a revelation! It becomes obvious that, although the citizens a mile and a half away have little or nothing, there are some people (not all foreigners) who have everything. On either side of the road you are presented with hugh marble and glass palaces - temples to the Godess of Shopping! Each has its own doorman - not everyone is welcome here - and the signs speak of Western affluence - Gucci, Rolex, Cartier, Chanel etc. And at the end of this mall, in glorious isolation is the magnificent beauty that is
The Santa Cafe
One of our local eateries the Saigon Opera House. It is a wonderful white romanesque building that shouts of the Vietnamese love of music, culture and pagentry. Unfortuately, as with many of these public buildings, the casual visitor is not allowed to enter. Indeed the doors are firmly locked and the best we can manage is a photo on the sweeping steps leading up to the grand doors.
Almost next door is a fabulous building which the French used to call their 'Hotel de Ville' (Town Hall). Nobody's quite sure what to call it now - Committee Building, Community Centre, etc - but it simply stands there and doesn't care what you call it - it knows it looks imposing and beautiful!
We then visit the next objective of our walk; the Cathedral of Notre Dame. This again is an unexpectedly beautiful edifice which harks back to the time of French rule in Vietnam. Again the door is locked but perhaps the awesome view of the exterior is enough to justify our now aching feet. We glance at the Reunification Palace on our way back to the hotel but quite frankly we have had enough! It looks a little like a large block
Siagon by Night
A mass of noise, fumes, colour and chaos of ice cream with a flag on top compared with the majestic presence of the other sights!
And so, after our time in Saigon, it's time to move on to Hoi An. After dining at the Santa Cafe (no I can't explain the name either) with its first class street food and complete with wallpaper of scuttling geckos and the occasional wandering rat (seriously!) we jumped onto a Vietnamese Airlines jet and made it to Hoi An in 55 minutes. Last time we did this journey it took several days on the good old 'Open Bus
As we often say -'Onwards and sideways!!'
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Pam James
non-member comment
What a wonderful time you are both having. Hope the shingles (where ever they were placed!!) has calmed down Jane..... John - you should write your autobiography - you are a brilliant scribe. Much love to you both xxxxx