Day Fifteen - Ho Chi Minh City, Vietnam

We were surprised to find the tour guide for our trip to Cu Chi arrived 15 minutes early, so we grabbed some bread and cheese from the kitchen to eat on the bus. There were approximately 20 people in our tour group (mostly European), which was lead by a young Vietnamese man with a moderate grasp on the English language (he knew enough to be a tour guide, but often mixed words or employed peculiar phrases).

The ride to Cu Chi was about an hour and a half, with a pit stop after 45 minutes at a handcraft workshop under the ruse of a "bathroom break" when, of course, it was a ploy to get us to buy lacquered ash trays or vases or mother of pearl wall hangings. The workshop employs disabled workers, many the victims of Agent Orange.

Another 45 minutes on the bus until we reached Cu Chi. We were first hustled into a low hut where we watched an introductory video about Cu Chi and guerrilla warfare. Recently shot and edited with filters to appear as an old documentary, the propaganda-like video was full of Vietnam flag-waving pride. The narrator, in broken English, highlights the bravest of Cu Chi's residents and their heroic efforts against the enemy. (The video embedded below is not our own--we found this copy on YouTube)



Our guide hustled us off along a path to show us tiny hiding spaces (too big for most Westerners in the group) and a variety of booby traps. There were several places along the path where mannequins dressed in rebel attire were posed on hammocks or cooking or, in one case, animatronic VC demonstrated the creation of weapons.





All this war talk makes most visitors hungry for some action, so they have set up a machine gun range on premises. We shot off 30 rounds, Chris on an M60, and Lily on an AK-47.



The tunnels themselves extended over 100 km and were 30 meters underground in some places, but the portion open to tourists is only 3 meters below ground and is 30, 70, or 150 meters long (depending on how adventurous you're feeling). The tunnels have been widened to accommodate Westerners, but are still a very tight fit, requiring a squat walk for the entire length and a belly crawl at one point. The heat and humidity is intense, but Chris pushed through the entire 150 meters, while (the sometimes claustrophobic) Lily walked comfortably above ground and waited at the exit.




The bus ride back to Ho Chi Minh City was an hour and a half, despite only being 40 km away. They dropped us off at the tour office rather than our hotel, and we were unprepared for the sudden dump of rain.



We had lunch at a street vendor. Chris had pork and rice and Lily got tofu and meatballs....we think. This was followed by the most magical mango shake on earth, also prepared at a street vendor. (New York hot dog vendors have NOTHING on southeast Asia). We had a long walk before going back at the hotel, where we showered, changed into dry clothing and had a rest.

For dinner we went to a chain restaurant called Wrap and Roll that serves mostly spring rolls. We had a hot pot and some spring rolls but were moderately unimpressed (the snail spring rolls we had bought from a street vendor for 25 cents earlier in the day were better). A walk through a nearby park introduced us to the sport of Jianzi, which is a mix between badminton and hackey sack.

We hit a series of cafes in the evening. At one we ordered a pina colada, hoping for the best. After all, they sell coconuts and fresh pineapple on EVERY street corner, so this drink is going to rock, right? Not so much. Oh well. Serves us right for not ordering something distinctly Vietnamese!

Day Fourteen - HCMC (Saigon), Vietnam

We checked out of the Thien Than Hotel at 6:30 am. The staff has been very kind to us for our entire stay, and even gave us some breakfast to-go (baguettes and cheese in a manila envelope and watermelon slices in a plastic bag). It was raining again, but the driver made fantastic time to the Danang airport (a little over 30 minutes). There is lots of construction all along the road to Danang, mostly new beachfront resorts, although most of it is still a depreciated area. Maybe Danang will be the next hip beach resort in 5 years.

We flew Jetstar Airways, a low cost carrier, to Ho Chi Minh City. The flight was short (about an hour and 20 minutes), which was good because the knee room was quite tight! At Ho Chi Minh City, we got a cab, and thankfully had directions written in Vietnamese to the hotel that we could hand the driver.

The Saigon Mini Hotel is pleasant. Small, but clean, and the staff is exceptionally friendly. It's certainly no-frills, but the price is right! The entrance is down an alley and hard to find, but staff is stationed on the curb of the main road to help and direct people with bags as they come out of taxis.

Saigon traffic is rather crazy. It's certainly not as bad as India, but it's a little wild. Motorbikes far exceed the number of cars on the road (cars are almost a rare sight!) Horns reign supreme, replacing turn signals and mirror-looking for lane change warnings. There are exactly zero stop signs, so smaller intersections are a zoo of motorbikes flowing past one another. (Even at large intersections, traffic lights are not always obeyed perfectly). All this makes crossing the street an extreme sport. We've found that just stepping into the road and moving steadily with purpose works best. The motorbikes just part around you. (Alternately, we follow locals and schoolchildren as they cross the street. They're fearless.)



We took a long walk from our hotel to the Reunification Palace where we stood outside the (famous) gates, but decided not to buy a ticket to enter.



Instead, we walked a few blocks west of there to the War Remnants Museum. In the front courtyard of the museum stand several tanks, planes, helicopters, and howitzers left behind by the Americans. There is also a replica of the Tiger Cages where the South Vietnamese kept political prisoners. Otherwise, the museum seems like an extensive photography exhibit. Plenty of captions beneath black-and-white images of the war and the Vietnamese countryside emphasize the Americans' cruelty. (Funny, no mention of the Hanoi Hilton. Hm.) A very large portion of the museum is dedicated to documenting the terrible effects of Agent Orange. Each section of the museum is bookended with quotations of American soldiers, politicians, or journalists speaking about the inappropriateness of the United States involvement in the war. While it was interesting to us to get a new perspective on the story of the war, it certainly is only ONE perspective displayed throughout the exhibits.



We walked on to the Dan Sinh Market, which sells primarily machinery parts, and military surplus goods (mostly reproduction, although, there were a very few historic items). Chris was on the hunt for an American lightweight rucksack with metal framing, but had no luck (but did find a French one). He ultimately bought an American nylon pack with no frame, but got a decent deal.



For dinner, we went to a chain restaurant, Phở 24. Chris was blown away by the delicious complexity of the phở broth, and ranks it at the top of his pho experiences. Lily, as always with phở, was non-plused. (Soup is not a meal. Soup is soup.) We went to a cafe in a backpacker-y area and had some wonderful Vietnamese coffee and fruit salad.

Back at the hotel we fell dead asleep.

Day Thirteen - Hoi An, Vietnam

We woke up bright and early, ready to eat breakfast and meet Mark, our Aussie tour guide from Hoi An Motorcycle Tours. But, just before 8am, he came around to our hotel with the bad news that the weather forecast didn't look promising, and that, for safety reasons, he was canceling our mountain tour. Boo.

So, with nothing else planned, and having seen all of Hoi An several times over (it's a small town), we just took it easy all day. Surely enough, it did rain on-and-off all day, but it didn't get really bad until about 4pm. (We consoled ourselves all day with fake news stories of the torrential downpours and landslides in the mountains).

First stop of the morning was the tailor for some fittings. We both needed some more alterations, so we left To To and went back to the hotel.



We set ourselves up under an umbrella on the back deck with some coffee, books, and a cigar (for Chris), and passed the time. At one point, a small group of cows, lead by a man, made their way through the water cabbage field. So, although we didn't make it to the countryside on a motorcycle, it felt like a little bit of country came to us.



We went to lunch one last time at Cafe des Amis for another wonderful seafood selection. We sat and sipped beer at our favorite table on the balcony for quite a while before going on for a wander. We tried to find streets without tourists, tailors, and lantern shops to see how Hoi An used to feel. We killed more time reading back at the hotel.



We made 2 more stops at the tailor for final fittings. Each time we arrived at the storefront, the owners would make a phone call and within 3 minutes, the garments were delivered to the shop on motorbike. (We joked about the elves working in Santa's factory and delivering the goods.) During the last fitting, we discovered that one wrinkle on Lily's dress still hadn't been fixed properly, so the owner took Lily on motorbike from her storefront to the site where the tailors actually do most of the sewing. It was in a side room off of the lady's house, and all 6 sewing machines were ancient. Mostly wrought iron with old push pedals (although 2 were newer, maybe from the 1960s). Mounted to the sides of all these old sewing machines were modern motors with electric pedals. Ironically, as we had joked about the elves stitching the garments, the tailor's ringtone in her work room was, in fact, Jingle Bells.

We went out for a late dinner (9:30 is late for dinner in Vietnam) at a place close to the hotel. Lily had binh mi, a Vietnamese sandwich, and Chris had pho (his first bowl since coming to Vietnam).

Back at the hotel, we packed (everything still fits into the suitcases!), showered, and slept.

Day Twelve -- Hoi An, Vietnam

We got rollin' at about 9AM and had a light breakfast at the hotel. Tasty bacon, butter,and tomato sandwiches. (harnessing the personal sized Baguettes that the French left behind)

Next stop was a inter-tube recommended tailor. (You're never out of sight of a tailor in Hoi An, and so a little research was needed). Chris ordered a three-piece cashmere suit, and what he refers to as a green velvet "opium jacket". It's actually a knee length smoking jacket or "house coat" as the Victorians might call it. He also ordered some silk PJ pants to go with said coat. Lily ordered two dresses as well.



After having a wander through the streets we decided to sample whatever was menu du jour at Cafe de Amis. It' didn't disappoint.

It had been raining all morning so we went back to the hotel to investigate motorcycle tours of the countryside. We settled on one we liked and arranged to meet the guide at 6PM.

After a day or two of wandering without going into any of the historic sights we decided to buy a ticket book and check them out. The most interesting were the Ky house, with its mix of vietnamese, Japanese,and Chinese architecture, and pulley system to get the furniture upstairs. (it inevitably floods every year). The chinese meeting hall we went to was also cool, and filled with these giant inscence coils that take a month to burn completely. The coils had prayers / wishes hanging from their center, but that's just a guess as we had no idea what they actually said.



We still had some time to kill before meeting our guide so we looked at some hand-carved furniture. Beautiful stuff, and very reasonably priced, but it just doesn't fit our house decor. If we had an eastern themed room it might, but all the fancy carving and mother of pearl inlay is a world apart from our Swedish pine. (read IKEA)

We met up with our prospective tour guide at 6. He's an expat Aussie who has been living in Vietnam for 7 years. We wanted to see the countryside, because Hoi An is lovely, but it's chock full of tourists, and tourist oriented vendors. He said he had just the tour through the mountains on motorcycle, so we agreed on a price, time and hoped that the weather was not going to ruin the day.

We stopped back at To To tailors for some dress adjustments before going back out for food.

We debated on dinner for a while but decided to go back to Bale Well. That place is too good. We justified the same dinner twice by noting that every item is a regional specialty. Whatever--it was just as tasty the second time. Bellies full, we got in early night excited about the prospect of the next day's motorcycle tour.

Day Eleven -- Hoi An, Vietnam

We woke up at 8am and read some travel guides before going downstairs for breakfast. The dining area is pleasant, alongside a water cabbage field, and the food was not half bad. (Vietnamese coffee with condensed milk--YUM!)



We decided to just take a wander through the small town of Hoi An and spend the day relaxing. The town is a mix of many architectural styles -- French, Chinese, and Vietnamese, and escaped destruction during the war.



It has recently become a major tourist sight, and is crawling with westerners, although there are many locals too. Nearly every storefront is a tailors shop, with occasional art galleries, silk lantern shops, plastic trinket shops, and wood carving shops in between.



Unlike Thailand, where the vendors were very laid back, the Vietnamese take a very aggressive marketing tactic. As soon as we round a corner, we are met with a cacophony of, "HELLO! YOU BUY SOMETING! YOU BUY SOMETING NEW! WHERE YOU FROM!?" Yes, ma'am. We can see that you are selling your wares, you don't need to announce it repeatedly. In fact, the only stores we stopped into were the ones NOT hollering at us. (At least they're not pinching us like the purse vendors in China. Oof.)

We wandered down to the river in search of a Cafe for which we had received recommendations from both Lily's sister, Jen, and from a stranger in a nail salon in DC, Cafe de Amis. They did not lead us astray. The facade is not as elaborate as most others on the road, but the food was wonderful and wonderfully cheap. We got a seat on the balcony overlooking the river, and indulged in a massive pre-fixe menu of who-knows-what-all. The server brought each course and simply announced "fish" or "meat". I think we had something called nuoc mam or "white rose" (a steamed dumpling thing with diced crab inside). I could be wrong. there was also some dried meat on pounded rice and fish soup with lentils and then a tasty lo mein thing, and the most wonderfully fresh squid in a light stir fry with crisp veggies. We couldn't identify it all, but we ate it all! Mr Kim, the owner came out to greet us and chat, and we signed the guest book which was filled with praises from visitors from all over the world. We sat in the Cafe for maybe 2 hours, eating, drinking, and reading guide books before continuing on.





We walked through the streets more, ignoring the hawkers ("Motorbike for rent!" "Hello madam, you want look in my shop?") We looked into some wood carving shops and were awed by the prices of the beautifully crafted furniture, and are considering having something shipped to the States (we have no dining room chairs at the moment).



In the heat of the day, we returned to the hotel where we soaked up some AC and composed some very belated blog posts. At about 5pm, we went back out, and it had cooled significantly. One of the women at our hotel recommended a place to eat and drew a vague location on a map with the name Bale Well. We wandered around a little lost and headed down an unlikely looking alley, and voila. A poorly labeled sidewalk restaurant with the kitchen on the street corner.
Oh.
My.
God.
The best meal we have had yet. (And we thought Cafe des Amis was going to be hard to beat). We ate spring rolls that we hand rolled ourselves in crispy rice pancakes. Or, rather, the owner handrolled for us, and occasionally fed to us (with her pink-and-white polka dot fingernails). The array of food options was endless--veggies (including cucumber, lettuce, and mint), small omletty things, meat, and smaller springrolls to roll into the bigger spring roll (how meta). And a peanut and chili dipping sauce to boot! They kept bringing more without our asking for it. Plate after plate! There was no menu. Just the spring rolls. Soon after beginning our meal, an older American couple sat down next to us, and we passed the time chatting about America and Vietnam travel and what not. We probably sat at this out-of-the-way restaurant for an hour and a half indulging in food, drink, and the company, and ultimately spent the equivalent of $7 total for the both of us.





We walked off the food and went to the river to see it lit at night, and ended up having coffee at...Cafe des Amis. Mr Kim was thrilled to see us again and seemed to be enjoying his beer out front of the restaurant, toasting all his patrons.



Halfway through coffee, we struck up a conversation with 2 German guys sitting next to us, and sat with them drinking beer for maybe an hour talking about travel.



By this time, it was about 10pm, so we headed back to the hotel, intending on researching clothing styles to have made at the tailor, but ultimately blogging and sleeping instead :-)

Day Ten -- Bangkok, Thailand, Hoi An Vietnam

We had a liesurely morning packing and showering before heading out for a late breakfast. We couldn't commit to any one place, so we walked up and down Suhkumvit Road nibbling from street vendors. Hot dog pig-in-a-blanket spring roll things, meatball somethings, sweet iced tea, sticky rice (aka "ticky lie") and chicken legs. We are amazed at how wonderfully moist the chicken legs always are. They simply sit over the hot coals until someone comes by, and yet they are constantly delicious and perfectly cooked (and a heck of a lot better than Boston Market or Roy Rogers!).



All the street vendors place your food in a small sandwitch baggie and then in a slightly larger plastic bag with handles and give you a wooden skewer as your utensil. We have also seen many locals with drinks of some sort served in this fashion, walking down the street sipping with a straw out of a plastic bag.

And the fruit! Oh, the raw mango and pineapple and watermelon! Street vendors with fresh fruit are everywhere, ready to serve you up a plastic baggie and skewer of fruit for dirt cheap!

We caught a cab from the hotel at 12:30 and made it to the airport by 1:15 (mind you, it took more than 2 hours from airport to hotel when we first arrived). We checked in with Air Asia and had a leisurely lunch. The Bangkok airport is laid out a little differently. Passport control and then duty free and then security just before the gate, which means no buying water before getting on the plane. Thankfully, we ate well because we were in for an unexpectedly lengthy and arduous day of travel. If you are disinclined to hear about the woes of airline travel, skip to the end :-)

Intitial plan: Air Asia from Bangkok to Ho Chi Minh City. We have 2 hours in which to pick up luggage, clear customs, and then re-check in with Jet Star Airlines for a 7:15 flight from Ho Chi Minh City to Danang. Take a 45 minute taxi ride from Danang south to our hotel in Hoi An. Wonderful.

Actual occurance: We boarded our Air Asia flight, and just before push back from the gate, the pilot announced "technical difficulties" and that we would need to board another aircraft. So, we all got off the plane and waited at the gate. After a short time, we saw another group of passengers boarding that same aircraft. As it turns out, the pilot and the bags were headed to Cambodia, but we passengers were headed to Vietnam. An employee promised we could get help with our connecting flight when we arrived at Ho Chi Minh City.
Finally, we took off an hour and a half after our originally scheduled departure. So, in Ho Chi Minh City, we looked for the promised Air Asia representative. Nada. We went through passport control and customs. Still no Air Asia representative. Okay, let's go to domestic departures (in another building). No Air Asia desk there either. (P.S. At this point we are jogging through the un-airconditioned airport toting around 15 kilo hiking backpacks.) We get to the JetStar check in desk, just as our plane is taking off. "You late. You take next plane tomorrow 6 am." Vietnam Airlines had the last flight of the night into Danang leaving at 8pm, so we hustle to them, wait until we can buy standby tickets (for about $50 each), check our bags and then SPRINT to the gate, praying to any diety that will hear us that our bags make it aboard. And, what do you know? They did!
So, the JetStar airfare is non-refundable, and we are on the warpath to make Air Asia pay for the additional airfare cost (although, with their customer service thus far, I think it unlikely). We wouldn't be so upset if it had legitimately been techical problems, but it was an organizational SNAFU.

END OF AIRLINE RANT

Despite the exhaustion and frustration with our flights, we took a moment to recognize the gravity and historical significance of landing in Danang and walking across the tarmac to the airport terminal (and hope that one day, our children will want to honeymoon in Bagdhad or Falujah).

We caught a cab and took the 45 minute drive to Hoi an for about $15. (300,000 Vietnamese Dong. The currency conversion is ridiculous, and we feel nervous requesting one million out of an ATM. Yipe!) The Thien Thanh hotel is charming and they know us by name. It is a mid-range establishment, but has a lot of character, and, most importantly, a hot shower and clean bed. Zzzzzzz.

Day Nine -- Bangkok, Thailand

Shopping.

Bangkok locals and tourists alike love to shop. So, we decided to dedicate the day to this activity. We took the sky train to Mo Chit station for Chatuchak Market (the weekend market). The market fills the space of 5 football fields, and has a little bit of everything. Mostly, it sells kitschy cheap tourist goods and clothing, but there are some unique stalls as well. Even with clothing, local designers have store fronts, but of course, few have changing stalls for trying on. There were some big-ticket items, like giant stone Buddhas, conveniently located next to UPS and DHL storefronts.



It seemed like every other stall was selling Thai silk, but neither of us have an eye for fabric quality, so we couldn't identify the bargains and the scams. Of course, everything is negotiable, even the items with price tags. The bargaining is all very friendly, and no one seems too pushy or desperate. Chris was pleased to find airsoft goods, but did more chatting with the vendors than actually buying.

We punctuated our shopping with frequent breaks at the various food stands. All was delicious, but the watermelon juice wins for the most refreshingly delicious beverage of the year! Many other market-goers were taking respites in the various massage stalls.



After a full morning of sensory overload, we went back to the hotel to soak in some AC. Then, we headed out for more shopping the mall. The sky train stop Siam is home to at least 3 enormous malls all within s few blocks of one another. First we poked our heads in to the Paragon, a very upscale mall with coture stores (Versace, and Chloe storefronts, for example). Not our style (well, not our budget).

We went to MBK mall, a mall like none other we've ever seen. It's divided into several sections: the top floor is an arcade and movie theatre, another floor is all the food, another floor is all home furnishings stores, another section is all cell phones (what seems like MILES of cell phone vendors), another portion of the mall is like a standard US mall, and then another section is all touristy cheap items laid out in stalls like an outdoor market. Even in the mall, prices are negotiable (maybe not in some store fronts, but certainly at the accessory stalls). Chris picked up a knock-off watch, but once again, our "shopping" was mostly just an excuse to walk through a new place and see new things.



Then, we went for a different type of window shopping. We took the sky train to Sala Daeng and walked to Patpong (the redlight district). We had no intention of going into any of the bars, but we wanted to see what the famous district was all about. Surprisingly, we saw few women on the street, and were badgered by men only, most of whom carried a menu of available shows and hollered at us, "You want ping pong show? Okay for lady to see too. Hello! You want ping pong show?" We walked past clubs called "Super Pussy" and the like, but took no pictures of our surroundings, lest we appear interested, and get goaded into seeing the aforementioned ping pong extravaganza. The center of the street was crowded with the same knock off goods that line most streets in Bangkok (the Tiffanys fakes were awful, btw.).

A few streets over is a street of Japanese-style hostess bars, which cater primarily to the Japanese business men. We had assumed that Patpong would be more like this manner of salesmanship--ladies in cute uniforms enticing you to enter, not the pushy, sweaty men of Patpong.



Anyway, we partook in neither districts' attractions, and went back to the hotel and went to sleep.


"I don't see you guys rating the kind of maiden I'm contemplating. I'd let you watch, I would invite you, but the queens we use would not excite you." - The American Chess