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Published: March 10th 2009
Ross:
We were up early for our bus to Ho Chi Minh City (HCMC), and after crossing the Mekong at Neak Luong by ferry we arrived at the border. The arrangement with the coach company was that they'd take everyone's passports, get them all processed and stamped, and return them to us on the other side of the border. The chaos and delay that then ensued could've been easily avoided if they'd just let us individually pass through customs and immigration ourselves with our own passports. With a non-English speaking Cambodian guy trying to pronounce forty or so Western names by reading them aloud from each passport was like some kind of psychological torture. He had particular difficulty with 'Benjamin'. Nice sentiment though...
After traversing most of the city, our coach dropped us conveniently close to the main budget accommodation area. Given the heat and the time of day we wasted no time in lumping for the first guesthouse at $12 a night with air-con and our own bathroom. We then proceeded to march to the nearby KFC for an under-cooked Zinger Burger - how cultural.
Following further death-defying road crossings involving an old lady who wouldn't let
go of Polly's arm, we decided to chill out in the cafe next door to our guesthouse for the rest of the afternoon. I booked myself a tour of the Cu Chi tunnels for the next day, and an onward coach to Mui Ne for the day after that. After Pol's excessive cultural experiences in Phnom Penh, and with the promise of the live firing of guns, she opted out.
The next day I was up and ready early for my half-day tour to Cu Chi. After doing the rounds of the tour agencies in the 'Open Tour' coach we were finally on our way, via an aptly named factory called Handicapped Handicrafts, not surprisingly in the business of producing handicrafts using handicapped people. Most of the employees were born with limb abnormalities as a result of the US military's use of the dioxin herbicide, Agent Orange, during the Vietnam war. The employees work on small production lines producing intricately inlaid mother-of-pearl and eggshell design plates, bowls, vases and trays.
After gawping at the impressive dexterity of some of these unfortunate guys, and then having a wander around their showroom, we were back on the road to Cu
Chi.
The Cu Chi tunnels were established by the Viet Cong about 70km northwest of HCMC and used as communication and supply routes, as well as hospitals and weapons caches during the Tet Offensive in 1968. The extent of the tunnels is estimated to be in excess of 250km. After a very stirring speech by a Vietnamese guy called Mr Bean who'd served as a US naval officer in San Diego, and later in South Vietnam, we were shown around the tunnels and their surrounding network of booby traps and dugouts. The tunnel networks had been mostly constructed by local women, with the spoil being distributed some distance away from tunnel entrances so as to avoid unwanted attention from the US military on the ground. Underground kitchens filtered stove smoke through numerous chambers before finally releasing it to atmosphere some distance from the source, again to avoid detection by the Americans. The networks were built to depths of about ten metres over three levels. The heat and humidity at ten metres below ground was stifling and the tunnels narrowed to little wider than my shoulders at points. It was fascinating to see how the Viet Cong had used the
Eggshell designs...
These guys, some with only one arm, were sticking tiny bits of broken eggshell in mosaic patterns on plates, before sending them off to be lacquered further down them production line.tunnels so successfully throughout the war, although I think Mr Bean was possibly a little bit anti-American and may have been elaborating some of the facts slightly. Nonetheless, it was well worth the visit. To top things off and really put you in the Viet Cong mindset, there was the opportunity to fire off a magazine from a selection of weapons, including the US M16, M60 and the trusty Soviet AK47. I couldn't resist getting trigger happy with the Kalashnikov, though it took a good 24 hours for my left eardrum to recover. Boys and their toys...
We were back in HCMC by 3pm, so after hooking up with Pol following her inner city adventures, having a chat with a couple from Somerset who'd ridden an old Russian-built 125cc Minsk motorbike about 1000 miles from Hanoi, and shooting a game of pool with Aussie brothers Bruce and Rex and a psychopath from Northern Ireland, we turned in for the night, ready for our onwards bus the next day
Polly:
I was ready for some culture and exploration of HCMC but this was slightly delayed by a rather long sleep. They were doing renovations on our hotel
so I put in some ear plugs when Ross got up and managed to snooze through the banging for a further couple of hours.
When I did eventually come to life I found a map and decided that my first challenge was to find out where I was on the map. Without Ross and his natural compass at my side, I needed to engage my brain and for that I would need some breakfast, so I settled in a cafe and devised an action plan.
Following my map I headed north towards the Reunification Palace and the War Remnants Museum. I decided to follow the main roads, which was my first mistake. The roads here are crazy. There's hardly any traffic lights, and even they seem to be merely for decoration. Crossing these highways is near impossible. My first major obstacle was a roundabout with six exits. Without any traffic lights I had to walk someway up each road in order to cross, following a star-shaped path. Unfortunately, when the roads got chocca, the motos just cut the corners onto the pavement in whichever direction they chose. If I was a cat, I would have used up three
of my nine lives on this roundabout alone. I was feeling pretty good after tackling the roundabout and I could see on the map that there was a big, urban park leading the way to the Reunification Palace. The only problem was, I had to cross an even crazier road to get to it. It was so close, yet so far. Looking left and right, I could see no traffic lights so I knew that I would have to tackle this one alone. It took me fifteen minutes in total, five of them stuck in the middle of the highway. With cars and motos choosing to do u-turns or just cut corners at any time, this was not a safe place to be. It was a foolish thing to try and do but I made it, and strolled into the tranquil park. After the last half an hour it was like a sanctuary for me. Strange plants and monuments were scattered around, couples were petting and kids were playing, it was like I was in a totally different city.
I thought I might try the War Remnants Museum first, but realised it shut at 11:30am, so headed straight for
the Palace, which was shutting just as I arrived! I knew I wasn't far from the Notre Dame Cathedral though so I made my way towards that, choosing smaller roads to cross. It was then that I realised there was a one-way system going on (although lightly obeyed), and this made my exploration much easier. The Cathedral had also closed for lunch, so I admired the outside before going into the adjacent Central Post Office. This was possibly the finest post office I have ever been into. It was kind of like a museum in itself, but totally operational.
I was feeling a bit hot in the midday sun, so popped into the nearby Diamond Plaza Shopping Mall, always a good place to cool off. I couldn't believe the interior. It was one of the swankiest department stores I had ever been to. I tried to take some photos but got told off by the security guard so left rather sheepishly.
Rather than hanging around until everything re-opened I navigated my way back, via the Ben Than Market. Once again I picked all the narrow roads on my map and had much more success. The market was a
One of the tunnel entrances
Authentically concreted over for the benefit of tourists like me... huge enclosed building, selling anything and everything. Having read that Ho Chi Minh City has some of the most cunning thieves in all of Asia, I kept a tight hold of my bag and meandered my way through.
Despite being hassled by moto drivers every two minutes, even after a couple of hours I was starting to get used to this city. I guess it's quite similar to any other big Asian city, but the people I encountered came across as quite stern in comparison to the openness and warmth we received in Thailand, Laos, and even Cambodia. I guess you need more time to fully understand a city like this.
One thing I've become conscious of on this whirlwind world trip is that we've packed in so much that sometimes we haven't had long enough to get under the skin of a place. Santiago, for example, where we visited three times, became so familiar to us that we grew really fond of the city. By our third visit we understood the underground and bus networks, we knew where to go to get a good steak or a beer. We'd deliberately stayed in three different areas and thus
had a good grasp on the geography of the city. With all that came the familiarity with the locals and their customs, to the point where we could even share a joke or use a little sarcasm. I suppose the fact that our Spanish is a darn sight better than our Vietnamese helped somewhat, but I also think that the time spent there was a big factor.
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