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.