Vietnam Travels - this travelogue is a compilation of my journal entries during this Feb 2006 trip - February 24, 2006
Entry #1: Ho Chi Minh City, Feb 3, 2006
I'm here and sweating already. I'm in Ho Chi Minh City, formerly Saigon,
and it's in the 80s and humid. My flight went from Chicago and arced
across Milwaukee, Duluth, Canada, Anchorage, the Bering Sea, and eastern
Siberia before landing in Tokyo, a full 13 hours from gate to gate. It
was light the entire time because the plane was flying only slightly
slower than the earth was turning. It was also cloudy most of the way
except for an amazing view of the frozen, cracked Bering Sea and the
pacific mountains of Russia.
I crossed the International Date line so even though my flight left
Chicago on Thursday morning, I got to Tokyo on Friday afternoon. When I
return, I will leave Tokyo at 7pm on Friday night and get to Chicago 3
hours earlier on Friday afternoon.
In Tokyo, I had a three hour layover (two of which were used up winding
through customs and getting bussed and trammed from one terminal to
another) and then flew 7 hours to Ho Chi Minh City. I finished the trip
with a 20 minute taxi ride to my hotel through the midnight of the city.
My hotel room is neat and clean and way too close to the street noise. The
flannel sheets are patterned with the logo of the 2008 Olympics next to
labrador puppies. I haven't figured that out yet. I didn't sleep much
and I'm still sort of spacey which means I'm likely to be run over by one
of the thousands of cyclos (mini bikes) racing everywhere like giant bugs.
The traffic signs here are merely a suggestion and it's every one for
themselves on the street. It doesn't really feel dangerous, because they
never actually hit the pedestrians, but I think that the video game,
Frogger, was probably based upon crossing the street here.
I'm heading for the War Remnants museum today, the Vietnamese version of
the war atrocities that were committed by US troops. There's also an
Irish pub near the museum, so I should probably check that out.
I'm not sure what to do next. After a few waking hours in this city, I'm
ready to move on tomorrow. In the three or four blocks I walked to get to
this computer, at least 20 bicycle and cyclo taxis have offered me a ride.
I haven't seen the hookers yet, but I'm sure they'll show up eventually.
I'm either going to Angkor Wat in Cambodia (a two day, 14 hour bus ride
which doesn't sound appealing right now) or to Mui Ne, a quiet beach
village for which I can ride in a Mercedes van for three hours for $9.
Now that I spell that out, I think I do know what I'm doing!
Entry #2: Mui Ne, Feb 5, 2006
I'm in Mui Ne now, but first an update since our last episode:
I spent yesterday afternoon walking around some neighborhoods in Saigon
(nobody calls it Ho Chi Minh City). I went to the War Remnants museum
which is the Vietnamese perspective on the war. The museum used to be
called something offensive to the US (like the museum of the atrocities
committed by US troops....) but they changed it to tone it down a bit.
The museum opened in 1975, two years after the US got airlifted out of
Saigon. It is made up of several large galleries with hundreds of black
and white photos, from 8 x 10 to several feet across. The photos are
shocking to say the least. Many very gruesome photos of US soldiers
pointing guns at children's heads or laughing next to mutilated Vietnamese
bodies. There were a few hundred people walking around the exhibits and
it is a very somber place. The photo descriptions, included in English
and several other languages, are very pointed and they implicitly honor
the photojournalists who risked (and in some cases lost) their lives to
take these amazing photos.
It's inconceivable that all of this happened 35 to 40 years ago and now I
can be here as a tourist and be treated so politely. I think that
everyone understands that it's the governments that cause the problems,
not the people.
After that, I stopped by an Irish pub for a stout and later had dinner
across from my hotel at a great little local place. A bowl of noodle soup
with veggies and pork for 50 cents. Now that's living!
A brief intermission - as I'm sitting here writing this, three chickens
have entered the internet cafe. They seem harmless enough although I
think they want my computer.
This morning I left Saigon for Mui Ne on the coast. The Vietnamese have
got this transportation thing all figured out now. While I was expecting
to ride on the same school bus that I rode to school in 1968, they
consolidate tourist bus tickets and use very nice buses, just like riding
to the casino with senior citizens. For $5, I travelled four hours and
ended up in an incredible place.
Mui Ne is famous for it's huge sand dunes, kite surfing, and it's six-mile
long tropical beach front. The hotels line the beach on a strip of land
about 100 yards wide, behind which the dunes rise up hundreds of feet.
I'm staying in a sort of bungalow village, 50 feet from the beach. I have
one of the expensive bungalows ($25/night) because it has hot water and
air conditioning.
This area is totally geared for tourists. There are a lot of British,
German, Australian, and Chinese visitors. There are some Americans but
only a handful compared to others. I'm planning to stay here for a while,
several days to a week perhaps. I'm off now to find the Irish pub down
the road. You got to love the Irish for getting around.
Entry #3: Mui Ne, Feb 7, 2006
I'm still hanging in Mui Ne and planning to move on tomorrow - you can
only take so much sun!
Mui Ne is on the South China Sea and at night you can see dozens of
fishing boats glittering on the horizon. In the dark it's like stars
floating in a barely crooked line. The mornings are warm and still, then
the wind picks up around 10am, and the sky quickly fills with the colorful
crescent sails of the wind sailers who have come from all over the world
to one of the best windy beaches. The sea, judging from it's taste and
buoyancy, has a lot of salt in it. You can float on your back while the
swells lift you gradually back to shore, often ending violently as the
last wave grinds your body into the sand, and your shorts fill with broken
shells.
Brief interruption: There are no chickens today (at least not yet), but
there are several tiny geckos crawling on the walls - they're actually
very cute.
Yesterday, I rented a bike from my hotel, the Suoi Tien Mui Ne Resort, and
rode 5 kilometers (that's Vietnamese for .62 miles) to the Fairy Spring.
The Fairy Spring is actually a stream which I followed on foot about one
mile inland to a modest waterfall. The stream has cut a canyon of sorts
into the red and white sand dunes which rise several hundred feet on each
side. The stream is from 2 to 12 inches deep and you walk barefoot right
in it. It's very refreshing and there were about 15 people and 4 brahmin
cows I passed along the way.
When I rented the bike, I asked about a lock because I would be leaving
the bike for an hour or so. The clerk told me to ask a cafe owner to
watch the bike while I was hiking and then give the owner 10,000 Dong
(that's Vietnamese for 60 cents) when I returned. This seems to work very
well. In fact, I ate lunch at the cafe and I even gave her a full dollar
for watching my bike. When I got back on, I noticed the back tire had
gone flat, and after asking a few people, I found someone to inflate it.
I gave him 10,000 Dong, but I guess that was too much so he gave me 8,000
in change.
It's 13 hours later here than in Wisconsin and I realized that if I had
flown across the Atlantic, I could have arrived in just a bit more time
but I would have experienced a night of about 5 or 6 hours along the way.
Going across the Pacific though, you don't get the night, but you still
arrive at the same time, more or less. I'm not sure what my point is here
- it just seemed interesting to me.
I got my first motorbike ride today as I went 8 kilometers to the Po Shanu
Cham Tower. These two towers are about 70 feet high and were built in the
9th century. They are sort of like huge kilns, and they are on the top of
a big hill. My crazed motorbike driver got me there safely, at least
physically safely, but he didn't seem to know where I wanted to go. He
passed the tower and it took me another kilometer to get him to stop. As
I walked back to the tower, I ended up walking with two boys about 12
years old who reminded me of Grasshopper in Kung Fu ("Grab the stone,
Grasshopper"). They took me to the tower the back way, and they live in
this beautiful Buddhist temple built right next to the towers. They
didn't speak much English but really enjoyed showing me where to go. Once
I got there, some cute kids (a trick known around the world) were my
guides even though they spoke no English. They did, though, manage to
communicate that I should leave a little cash in the temple to satisfy the
gods. I left the omnipresent 10,000 Dong note, and walked farther up the
hill. I turned to see the kids sneak back into the tower and take my
money when they thought I was gone. I guess they're more willing to take
a chance with the gods than I am.
I was fortunate to get an AARP-certified motorbike driver on my return
trip. I gave him a considerable tip because he managed to stay in his
lane, did not accelerate in an attempt to throw me from the bike, and
slowed down for every bus that careened towards us. I'm sure he'll retire
soon since he's clearly losing his edge.
I guess I'll go back to the beach now and float the afternoon away. I may
never get this sand out of my ........ shorts.
I'm off to Dalat in the morning.
Entry #4: Da Lat, Feb 9, 2006
I spent 7 hours yesterday winding my way up the southern range of the
Truong Son Mountains. This trip starts at the sea in Mui Ne as the bus
slowly climbs through the enormous red and gold sand dunes and then levels
off on Highway 1A travelling north. The road goes inland and then back to
the sea, passing through fields of rice and other vegetables. The highway
is eerily similar in many places to Highway 101 on the California coast.
At Phan Rang, the bus turned inland and began the sputtering hairpin
journey up to 1,475 meters (that's Vietnamese for 4,500 feet). The road
is about exactly the width of two buses and one motorbike, and there seems
to be a genetic prediposition for the Vietnamese to pass the bus ahead of
them on the curve. The first few times this happens (and it's happened to
me in several other countries as well), the virgin passenger has a
tendency to become very religious, very quickly. But after a couple
hours, you just stop paying attention to it, having fully excepted that
you've already lived a life rich in adventure.
If you're lucky enough to get to the top (I'm just kidding here, we only
saw one accident along the way), the bus heads across the central highland
plains where the road is lined with vegetable fields as far as you can
see. For miles, there is a beautiful patchwork of one-to-two-acre plots
with the gardeners in their colorful linen clothes and conical hats
squatting among the rows of cabbage, tomatoes, peppers, onions, peas,
carrots, beets, lettuce, beans, potatoes, garlic, spinach, squash, yams,
etc. And in the central market in town, there are piles and piles of
these vegetables as well as fruit, meats, and every fresh thing you can
think of. The vendors pile their produce, especially the strawberries,
oranges and other smaller fruit, into beautiful piles.
I arrived by a "tourist bus" which is a nicer way to travel but carries
with it the typical tourist trap situations, like pulling into a hotel and
herding everyone off the bus to try to get them to stay at that place. I
ignored their offers to "help" (believe me, that's the short version of
the story) and walked across town to the Dreams Hotel which I had already
booked. This hotel is run by the cousin of the hotel in Mui Ne, and when
I left Mui Ne the hotel owner gave me an envelope with $42 in it. She
asked me to deliver this to her cousin in Da Lat because some previous
customers had mistakenly left Da Lat without paying and gave the money to
the hotel in Mui Ne. I was pretty shocked that they would trust a
stranger to do this, but they did, and that $42 will come in pretty handy
on my trip.
Da Lat is a very happening place. Very twisty roads that make it
extremely easy to get lost very quickly. The people are all friendly and
you're never too far from where you want to be - you just can't always
figure out exactly where it is. The temperature is cool. Right now it's
in the 60s and it's been drizzly much of the day, but it is still very
pleasant. There's quite a bit to do here. The city itself is very
interesting to explore with countless cafes and shops and markets to
wander through. There are many tours which run the gamut from a one hour
motorbike tour to a 6 day jungle adventure. I'm still sorting out what to
do about that.
I've met several other solo travellers all of whom have fabulous tales to
tell. It's quite an evening to have dinner and drinks with 3 or 4 people
who have travelled everywhere, literally. There's the 50ish English woman
who started her 12 months of travels with a mountain trek in Bhutan 5
months ago. And the Seattle guys who spent an evening drinking homemade
beer from a makeshift keg with the locals on a street corner in Hanoi.
The Japanese woman who is married to an English guy and is continually
mistaken for being Vietnamese even though she can't speak a word of it.
The Irish artist who had to airlifted out of Banos, Ecuador during a
transportation strike. It goes on and on and on and it's just completely
fascinating. My three weeks in Vietnam is a blink of an eye for many of the
travellers I meet. In the US people say, "Wow, you have 3 weeks in
Vietnam." The travellers here, when they hear it's only three weeks, get
a sad look on their face and say, "Oh dear. What a pity!"
So, soon I'm off to have dinner at a Kom Chay cafe. I'm not sure what
that means, and after a while, it doesn't really matter. Sometimes when
you order off of a local menu, you just have to point and pray.
Entry #5: Hoi An, Feb 12, 2006
I'm in Hoi An after a rather lengthy travel and just about to head out to
explore the town. But first, the rest of DaLat....
I took an outstanding motorbike tour in and around Da Lat. The motorbike
driver business is booming in Vietnam. They are really like mopeds and
very few actual motorcycles. Since I have arrived, the motorbike drivers
are offering either rides as a taxi service or tours of a city or
surrounding areas. In the towns, the motorbikes make up the vast majority
of vehicles on the road. There are people walking or riding a bike often
on the edge of the road, with almost constant motorbikes going past in the
busier parts of town. And occasionally a car will be in the mix - maybe
one car for every 50 - 100 motorbikes.
We, myself and two fellow solo travellers, teamed up with an
English-speaking guide who hired two local drivers and the three of us
buzzed around on the backs of our respective bikes. Throughout the 8
hours, we travelled about 60 kilometers and made 12 or so stops. The
mountain roads and fresh air made for a very invigorating experience. We
saw some of the vast flower industry including Gerberas, Roses, Orchids,
and Lilies. Valentines Day was introduced in Vietnam about 10 years ago,
mostly in the urban areas, and the rose business is growing
astronomically. We saw men chiseling slabs of granite from the huge
boulders on the hill sides and breaking them into shoebox-sized bricks.
This is an illegal business but no one bothers them or the thousands of
bricks that they have accumulated at the side of the road. Soon a truck
will haul them to buyers in the area. We saw a silk factory (very
interesting but too long to explain - short version - grow cocoons, boil,
spin off the silk, wrap, loom, tailor, sell kimono). We visited a
mushroom farm, a rice wine maker, a coffee plantation, a
prehistoric-looking waterfall, a pagoda with a huge smiling Buddha, a
meditation center, an eccentric painter's home, and ate lunch on the
balcony of a local family's home, overlooking the precipitous jungle-clad
hillsides. It definitely a highlight so far. Our guide gave us many
small lectures about Buddhism. Short version: "Karma: Do today for
tomorrow."
A group of five of us ate for the second night in a row at a terrific
restaurant. A sample of the food during these two meals: lotus stem
salad, chicken asparagus soup, pizza, tofu with lemongrass, and a baked
clay pot of rice, chicken, and veggies. Did I mention beer? Saigon beer,
to be exact. It's not great beer, but it's plentiful.
I've held off on this story until I knew the ending: Five days ago when I
rode from Mui Ne to Da Lat, the bus stopped unexpectedly and the driver
said "We switch bus." So about ten of us on that bus moved onto another
bus which continued to Da Lat. I had been talking to someone when this
happened and since we went so suddenly, I forgot to grab my guitar off the
bus I left. At our next stop, I talked with someone who investigated a
little bit and said, "No problem. Guitar will come tomorrow." When the
guitar did not come tomorrow, I asked my hotel owner in Da Lat to help.
She made many phone calls and the following day she told me the guitar was
in town at the bus station. I went there immediately and was directed
onto a bus where my guitar was exactly where I left it, still in tune!
So, onto Hoi An. The trip from Da Lat to Hoi An is a bit like trains,
planes, and automobiles. This version involves buses, trains, taxis, and
26 hours. The bus ($4) leaves Da Lat for a six hour journey to Nha Trang
at 7:30am. You must spend the afternoon in Nha Trang waiting for the "soft
sleeper berth" on the 10pm night train ($22) to Danang which arrives at
6:30am. Then the taxi takes you 3 kilometers to the bus station, and the
bus takes you to Hoi An, backtracking 30 kilometers south. There are
faster ways and there are slower ways, and apparently everyone just has to
figure out which way works best. Many people spend a few days in Nha
Trang, but my limited time has me moving on.
So here I am now at Thien Nga hotel. It's about 80 degrees and a bit
breezy. I'm going out to see that town and I'll let you know in a couple
days.
Entry #6: Hoi An, Feb 14, 2006
I am still in Hoi An and staying another day or two. It's a relaxing town
yet has enough activity to make it interesting. I switched hotels this
morning because, even though the one I was at for two nights was fairly
nice, it was also fairly dead. I'm finding that there are subtle
differences that one must distinguish quickly about each hotel regarding
the friendliness of the staff, communal atmosphere, and general welcoming
environment. Many of these hotels are welcoming initially, yet there is
sometimes not much substance behind it. I have just arrived at the Thien
Thanh hotel at 8am and already they are offering me coffee and breakfast
on the deck where many other travellers also congregate. It's the sort of
place where I could hang around all day.
After having arrived on the night train a couple days ago, I wandered
around town the first day, mostly in a railroad haze. There are in fact
decent beds on the train (sort of like a camper) but it's still a train.
Yesterday (my second day here) I dove more into the city. Hoi An is quite
famous for it's custom tailoring. There are literally hundreds of tailor
storefronts around town. They tend to occupy about 15 feet of sidewalk
and they are from 15 to 40 feet deep. The entire storefront is opened up
and multiple body forms sit proudly on the sidewalk clad in samples of the
stores' wares. There may be five to ten headless dresses or business
suits or jackets standing at attention. Or, my favorite, the shapely,
plastic, torso-less legs that somehow, even with their lifelessness, make
silk skirts and linen pants look very sexy (I will appreciate no further
analysis of this confession).
I wandered baitingly close to these stores as I strolled the streets until
a lovely young Vietnamese woman reeled me in. I asked her for some linen
pants and she showed me the various styles and fabrics. After the
decision-making process (not as easy as you might think), they measured
several of my lower body parts, carefully recording the information, and
then they took my $13. They told me to return at 2pm (approximately 4
hours later) which I did. When I returned, I tried on the pants and found
them very nice. They were slightly too long and a bit bellbottomish, so I
asked them to fix that which they did. Then they proceeded to talk me
into a shirt (actually, I had already decided to get a shirt). They
didn't have the fabric I wanted (a tan background with an off-white plaid
pattern) but one of the women left ("I go to my sister shop") and returned
5 minutes later with exactly what I requested. Again, the measuring of
body parts and "come back tonight at 7pm." I didn't make it back until
the next day, but there was the shirt - a perfect fit!
I had an interesting experience, which has little to do with Vietnam. In
Da Lat, I met a couple and talked with them for a few minutes one
afternoon. When I was boarding the train to Hoi An two days later, I ran
into the man who said that his girlfriend had told him to hit the road
after 3 years of relationship and the current 3 months of travel. We rode
the train together and parted ways, he staying in Danang and me continuing
to Hoi An. Several hours later, I walked into a restaurant in Hoi An and
saw the woman from the couple. I sat with her and ate lunch and we
decided we would get together for dinner later. A couple hours later, I
saw the man walking around town (apparently he hadn't stayed in Danang).
We all met for dinner (and have had a second and will have a third
tonight). We're actually having a lot of fun, going about our business
during the day and meeting up for socializing at night.
I rented a bike today for 60 cents. It's a great way to breeze around the
city while requiring a fair amount of attention as you use the same road
ways as the motorbikes, cars, buses, and pedestrians. The cooperation on
the road is really quite amazing. Everyone moves almost seamlessly around
each other, often with little regard for which side of the street, or the
color of the traffic light, or any sort of structured approach. As
chaotic as it seemed at first, it's starting to seem quite natural and
easy.
I'm off to a bit of lounging on the deck now to rest before a strenous
dinner.
Entry #7: Hoi An, Feb 16, 2006
Well, I can't seem to extract myself from Hoi An. I've just spent my
fourth night here and I'm committed to at least one more. I have steady
dinner companions (this makes a remarkable difference) and have had very
relaxing days (except for the shoe episode yesterday). I have planned out
what I'll do once I leave here, and I need to leave by Saturday to make it
work.
Yesterday, I took a bus tour to My Son (pronounced Me Sewn). Me and
hundreds of other cattle were herded along until we had no strength left,
and then we simply submitted to the almighy Tour Guide ("I will be tour
guide for your pleasure today tank you bedy much"). My Son is a
collection of temples that were created shortly before the earth was
formed. There's a whole historical thing about it, but you don't care, do
you? It's just a bunch of broken rock piles now whose primary
significance is attracting cattle with cameras hanging off their horns and
lots of money in their saddle bags. I'm not bitter about it though. It
gave me the opportunity to sweat out gallons of useless liquid and to chat
with some nice Dutch women.
I've been to the Post Office each of the past two days to mail some things
home (The first day, I forgot one of the addresses so I had to return).
Four weeks by air, four months by sea (they tie buoys and homing devices
to the packages and throw them in the ocean). I spent a total of $103 for
the equivalent of mailing a grocery bag of stuff. For the sake of
comparison, my average meal costs about $3. The most interesting thing
about mailing packages overseas from here is the paperwork. It is most
similar to getting a mortgage or to applying for citizenship in
Afghanistan. They are quite thorough, although, come to think of it, I
have no idea what I was signing. Signing 16 times, that is. They point,
I sign ("Here. Here. Here. Here. Here. Here. Here. Here. Here. Here. Here.
Here. Here. Here. Here. Here."). They also won't mail it unless you show
them what you're sending which seems like a pretty good safety measure.
For international mailings in the US, they just ask you what's in it and
you tell them. I actually just took my things to the Hoi An PO in a bag,
and they provided the boxes and packed it for free. I'm sure it'll be
fine.
So, I have now been to four tailors and two cobblers. I don't know what's
happening to me, but it's a little frightening. I have four shirts and
one pair of pants all of which are quite nice. Later today, I pick up
another pair of pants and some shoes. Speaking of shoes, I did order
shoes a couple days ago. She had me stand on a piece of paper (which they
pulled from a garbage can) and traced both of my feet. She measured
around them a little bit and said, "Tomorrow at 11." When I returned
tomorrow at 11, she said that her brother needed to measure again for the
sole and that she would take me to his house by motorbike (one kilometer).
Now, I'm a pretty busy guy, so I told her to have her brother come to her
shop. Well, anyway, it didn't work, so I went. When I got there, I could
clearly see that they had not started my shoes, that they did not know how
to make my shoes, and that I was going to end up with something very
crappy. Even though I can't understand a word they say, there was no
mistaking the baffled look on the cobbler's face. So I said "Forget it,"
and they said "But sir..." and I said "Goodbye." I started walking back
and she caught up to me halfway and gave me a ride the rest of the way.
In the end, I got back to the main shop and asked for my money ($30) and
they gave it to me. It was a bizarre experience though. So, of course, I
went to a different shop today to have the shoes made. Please pray for
me.
Actually, for the sake of accurate journalism, the tailors have been
terrific and very gracious. The above story is quite the exception.
I met a guy from Oregon in my hotel who rented a motorcycle (Minsk, for
those in the know), and he's taking it to Saigon, a journey of at least
1,000 miles. Otherwise, he seemed like a perfectly reasonable fellow.
It's hot and steamy here, probably just as you might expect. Even so,
it's not unpleasant. There's a gentle breeze and an afternoon of leisure.
I'm taking a cooking class tonight - maybe I'll make you some nice spring
rolls or tofu with lemongrass when I get back. And don't make that face
about the tofu - it's incredible!
Entry #8: Hue, Feb 19, 2006
Reporting in from Hue as I continue my northward journey. I can hardly
believe that I'm coming home in 5 days. We've got Hanoi and Halong Bay
still ahead of us. But, back to our story....
On my last evening in Hoi An, I took an evening cooking class at the Hai
Scout restaurant. There were eight of us attending, and they had us sit
around a table with the very funny Vietnamese chef standing at one end
demonstrating the meal preparation. He prepared Mackerel wrapped in
Banana Leaf, Squid Salad, and Fried Vegetable Spring Rolls. It was very
interesting and all fairly simple to make. With unusual ingredients that
are difficult to find outside of Southeast Asia (ie. Choko - a squash-like
vegetable, Wood Ear Mushrooms), he told us what to substitute in the
recipe. He also showed us some very rudimentary cutting utensils that are
used, very effectively, to shred green papaya and to slice very thin
sections of green beans. We ate all of this food in addition to fried
wontons and White Rose, rice paper (in the shape of a rose, sort of)
filled with little pieces of pork or shrimp. He said that both of these
recipes are secret ("like Coca Cola") and the only way to learn them is to
marry into the particular family. He added a warning, though, that if you
ever try to get out of the family, "they would have to kill you." All the
food was terrific, and 5 of us went out for drinks afterwards on the
terrace at the very happening Tam Tam Cafe.
I took bus on the 4 hour ride north from Hoi An to Hue. This trip begins
and ends on flat sections of Highway 1 cruising through towns and
farmland, but the middle section is stunning. The road climbs from the
sea to 1,500 feet very quickly north of Danang, right up into the clouds
and rain. The mountainsides are lush and steep as the pavement barely
holds its ground, hugging the slowly eroding cliffs. As we came out of
the mist, we entered the Hai Van Pass, known as the dividing line between
the climate of the north and south. This is the most stunning strip of
road I have ever been on. There is quite a bit of traffic which backs up
because of the curves and climbs, and sometimes they get a little close to
the edge. One beer truck was laying on its side and another freight truck
was stuck with one wheel off the road. In both cases, there were crews of
15 to 20 people taking the load off the trucks and putting it onto
another.
Hue, the next stop in our journey, is divided into north and south
sections by the Perfume River. (You might think that the Perfume River
smells really bad, kind of like nicknaming a big man Shorty. You'd be
wrong. It doesn't smell at all). There is a large university and it's
known as a UNESCO cultural heritage site because it used to the captial
and has a lot of historical monuments.
My first day in Hue, I took a city tour which visited three magnificent
tombs, an incense and hat making business, the Citadel, the Thien My
Pagoda, and finished with a boat ride down the Huong Song (Perfume River).
I was looking forward to the boat ride and I was unpleasantly surprised
to be on a very loud and gasoline-smelling boat. The couple and young son
lived on the boat. While the man captained the boat downriver for 20
minutes, his wife performed the duties of stewardess, souvenir vendor, and
first mate.
The Citadel, within the city of Hue, is the ancient enclosed compound from
which emperors ruled as recently as 100 years ago. The Citadel is 520
hectares which is Vietnamese for "really big." The tombs, on the
outskirts of Hue, were built by each emperor as the place they would be
buried. During the war, the Viet Cong used the Citadel as their base in
this area, and during the Tet Offensive, the US bombed the majority of the
area within the Citadel destroying about 75% of the buildings. The
remaining buildings are quite nice, very palacial and temple-like.
The Thien My Pagoda is a Buddhist temple and monastery where 27 monks are
currently living. Tourists are allowed to walk throughout the entire
facility which is a very symmetrical area of peaceful walkways that
encircle temples, statues, and living areas. This pagoda has been famous
throughout Vietnam for a long time, and it became known throughout the
world when one of it's monks lit himself on fire in Saigon to protest the
war. His picture was on the cover of Life (I think) and he was sitting
cross-legged in the street in the center of a huge raging flame. He had
driven from the pagoda to Saigon in an Austin car which is on display at
the pagoda.
During my day tour, I met a young Japanese woman who is studying the
Vietnamese language and wants to work at a travel agency in the US. She
came to Vietnam alone during her college break to "do research" about
tourism. She had written out 20 questions and was asking hotel staff,
waiters, tour guides, and vendors to complete it. The questions asked if
people liked tourism in their country, if their salary was increasing
because of it, if tourism was eroding the traditional cultures of Vietnam,
if they felt that tourism should grow, etc. She told me that she had
gotten about 50 of these completed in 9 days. I had dinner with her and
she handed out a couple at the restaurant, and I could see that the staff
was very willing to share their impressions with her. It was quite
interesting.
I'm off to wander the city today. Stay tuned as our story moves onto the
capital city, Hanoi.
Entry #9: Hanoi, Feb 21, 2006
I arrived in Hanoi on a one-hour flight from Hue yesterday. The flight
was flawless - a very comfortable airbus jet nicer than the ones I'm used
to in the US. They even fed us a sandwich and a chocolate. I had
forgotten until the last minute that I had purchased a cheap knife here to
cut fruit, so just before I got to the security area, I remembered and
quickly pulled it out and threw it away - I saw the people in line behind
me smiling. I shared a taxi with a Danish guy from the Hanoi airport to
the Old Quarter, the hip and flavorful neighborhood in Hanoi. On the
fourth try, and after fending off numerous hawkers in the street, I ended
up in the Old Street Hotel, an old and small but clean hotel. Couldn't
beat the $10/night price.
Hanoi is a charming and cosmopolitan city, many interesting neighborhoods
and several peaceful lakes and pagodas throughout the city. The Old
Quarter is similar in theme to older, popular sections of US cities, such
as the French Quarter in New Orleans or Greenwich Village in New York.
Historically, this was the center of the city and the daily market place.
The streets are named after the traditional items that were sold on that
street, each section about one block long. Almost every street starts
with Hang and then there is another word. Hang Gai is the silk street;
Hang Quat is fans and flags; Hang Ga is chicken and so on through the
dozens of marketplace items. It's very interesting but difficult because
the streets often change names at each corner.
Hanoi is the root of Vietnamese socialism and well known for all things Ho
Chi Minh (HCM). He is known as the Red Father, and by all accounts that I
have heard, much beloved by the Vietnamese people. The quick story - he
loves the workers, he freed Vietnam from the French, he defeated the US,
he's the man! On a van tour today, I visited the HCM Mausoleum. He died
in 1969 yet his body lies quite peacefully for the world to view. There
is an ongoing debate about whether this is actually body or a dummy
double. It's a little slice of Communism to go through this process.
There are guards all around, and they make you stand "two by two" and they
don't let you talk. The line is quite long and if you don't move
immediately when the person in front of you moves, a guard will step
forward and sternly show you where you are supposed to be. It's actually
quite laughable that they are so serious (but, believe me, no one was
laughing).
I met a Dutch couple on my travels from Hue to Hanoi and the guy, Hans,
started asking me about the little guitar that I was carrying. After a
bit, I told him that I was a singer-songwriter and let him listen to me on
my iPod. He said that he is part of a folk club in Holland and he would
love to have me come play at one of their concerts. We haven't worked out
the details but he seemed pretty serious about it. We talked for a while
and the three of us went out to dinner later. It was a great time and he
has invited me to come to his house and he'll drive me around Holland and
neighboring countries. How cool is that?
And how cool is this.....? The night before I met a guy from Florence who
runs a guesthouse. He is riding a bicycle, yes a bicycle, from Hanoi to
Saigon (over 1,000 miles). We had a few beers and solved most of the
worlds problems (the conversations in bars inevitably include George Bush
and his cast of characters). He then invited me to stay in his guesthouse
at no charge when I'm in Italy. You can check it out at www.ilghiro.it.
So, the point here is that I'm not coming home. Tomorrow, I'm off to
Halong Bay, then I'm going to Italy and then to Holland, and by that time,
I hope to have met someone who invites me somewhere else. Perhaps I'll
run into you guys along the way. (Private message to my boss - please
keep auto-depositing my checks until I notify you otherwise).
Be careful out there - you never know where you'll end up.
Entry #10 (Final): Tokyo, Feb 24, 2006
Well my friends, this is our last chapter. I am currently stranded in the Narita Airport (Tokyo) on a 12 hour layover and I`m watching my 10 minutes for 100 yen internet time dwindle away.
My last hurrah in Vietnam was a two day tour to Halong Bay. Halong Bay is
a stunning calm sea with hundreds of islands rising up from the water. The consensus among our tour group was that King Kong must have been filmed here. Some islands are just 10 meters across and 10 meters high, while others are several square kilometers rising dramatically into the misty sky. The bay and islands were formed by dragons who came from the hills
and dragged their tails, carving out the vall eys between the islands.
(I'm not making this up. This is actually what they tell you, and you start to believe them).
There were 12 tourists on the boat, and we sailed into the thicket of islands, visited a cave, and climbed to the top of an island to have a look around. We had lunch, dinner, and breakfast on the boat and also had our owns sleeping rooms which were quite nice. A kitten lived on board the boat and seemed quite happy to walk anywhere it wanted to go in search of food and petting. The trip was really peaceful even though there were as many as 17 other boats anchored overnight in the same harbor. We left Hanoi at 7:30am, boarded the boat at noon, spent 24 hours on board, and returned to Hanoi at 4pm the following day.
I had hoped to go into Tokyo during my layover. In fact, I went out to
dinner the other night and a Japanese couple got seated at my table
because the restaurant was full. (Please insert another 100 yen. Thank
you.) I told them that I was stopping over in Tokyo on my way home, and he
drew me a map and wrote out several phrases in Japanese that I could show
people to help me use the subway. He also told me about a famous restaurant that serves tiny eels in boiling hot pots. This was my plan, but I am quite exhausted and I`ve found a rest house next to the hotel that rents rooms for the day. So that`s where I`m headed soon.
For those who like the details of a trip like this, here`s a few tidbits:
During 20 nights in Vietnam, I visited 7 seven cities, slept in 10
different beds, and was transported by plane, train, motorbike, bicycle,
boat, taxi, van, bus, foot, and elevator. Once in the country, I spent less than $900 on lodging, transportation, food, drink, and organized tours. I saw four traffic accidents, all of them minor. I got to know over 50 people from Ireland, England, USA, Sweden, Holland, Italy, Israel, France, Australia, Denmark, Laos, Germany, Japan, New Zealand, Norway, Indonesia, and, of course, Vietnam.
And I have to say (in a brief flash of philosophical poetry) that when all
is said and done, this trip, and every international trip I have taken, is not really about the monuments or the countryside, the beaches or towns, nor the history that bubbles beneath these places. In the end, it's all about the people who welcome you into their country; the people with whom you share
a meal or a bus seat or an hour on the beach; the people whose infinite
paths cross as they wander the globe; the people who move about the planet deliberately to share in and be inspired by the incredible things that the world has to offer. I feel very privileged to be able to have these experiences and to share them with you.
So, where shall we go next .... the Central American isthmus, encircle the Black Sea, ride the Russian railway from Helsinki to Beijing....
Safe and exciting travels to all of you,
Greg
I'm here and sweating already. I'm in Ho Chi Minh City, formerly Saigon,
and it's in the 80s and humid. My flight went from Chicago and arced
across Milwaukee, Duluth, Canada, Anchorage, the Bering Sea, and eastern
Siberia before landing in Tokyo, a full 13 hours from gate to gate. It
was light the entire time because the plane was flying only slightly
slower than the earth was turning. It was also cloudy most of the way
except for an amazing view of the frozen, cracked Bering Sea and the
pacific mountains of Russia.
I crossed the International Date line so even though my flight left
Chicago on Thursday morning, I got to Tokyo on Friday afternoon. When I
return, I will leave Tokyo at 7pm on Friday night and get to Chicago 3
hours earlier on Friday afternoon.
In Tokyo, I had a three hour layover (two of which were used up winding
through customs and getting bussed and trammed from one terminal to
another) and then flew 7 hours to Ho Chi Minh City. I finished the trip
with a 20 minute taxi ride to my hotel through the midnight of the city.
My hotel room is neat and clean and way too close to the street noise. The
flannel sheets are patterned with the logo of the 2008 Olympics next to
labrador puppies. I haven't figured that out yet. I didn't sleep much
and I'm still sort of spacey which means I'm likely to be run over by one
of the thousands of cyclos (mini bikes) racing everywhere like giant bugs.
The traffic signs here are merely a suggestion and it's every one for
themselves on the street. It doesn't really feel dangerous, because they
never actually hit the pedestrians, but I think that the video game,
Frogger, was probably based upon crossing the street here.
I'm heading for the War Remnants museum today, the Vietnamese version of
the war atrocities that were committed by US troops. There's also an
Irish pub near the museum, so I should probably check that out.
I'm not sure what to do next. After a few waking hours in this city, I'm
ready to move on tomorrow. In the three or four blocks I walked to get to
this computer, at least 20 bicycle and cyclo taxis have offered me a ride.
I haven't seen the hookers yet, but I'm sure they'll show up eventually.
I'm either going to Angkor Wat in Cambodia (a two day, 14 hour bus ride
which doesn't sound appealing right now) or to Mui Ne, a quiet beach
village for which I can ride in a Mercedes van for three hours for $9.
Now that I spell that out, I think I do know what I'm doing!
Entry #2: Mui Ne, Feb 5, 2006
I'm in Mui Ne now, but first an update since our last episode:
I spent yesterday afternoon walking around some neighborhoods in Saigon
(nobody calls it Ho Chi Minh City). I went to the War Remnants museum
which is the Vietnamese perspective on the war. The museum used to be
called something offensive to the US (like the museum of the atrocities
committed by US troops....) but they changed it to tone it down a bit.
The museum opened in 1975, two years after the US got airlifted out of
Saigon. It is made up of several large galleries with hundreds of black
and white photos, from 8 x 10 to several feet across. The photos are
shocking to say the least. Many very gruesome photos of US soldiers
pointing guns at children's heads or laughing next to mutilated Vietnamese
bodies. There were a few hundred people walking around the exhibits and
it is a very somber place. The photo descriptions, included in English
and several other languages, are very pointed and they implicitly honor
the photojournalists who risked (and in some cases lost) their lives to
take these amazing photos.
It's inconceivable that all of this happened 35 to 40 years ago and now I
can be here as a tourist and be treated so politely. I think that
everyone understands that it's the governments that cause the problems,
not the people.
After that, I stopped by an Irish pub for a stout and later had dinner
across from my hotel at a great little local place. A bowl of noodle soup
with veggies and pork for 50 cents. Now that's living!
A brief intermission - as I'm sitting here writing this, three chickens
have entered the internet cafe. They seem harmless enough although I
think they want my computer.
This morning I left Saigon for Mui Ne on the coast. The Vietnamese have
got this transportation thing all figured out now. While I was expecting
to ride on the same school bus that I rode to school in 1968, they
consolidate tourist bus tickets and use very nice buses, just like riding
to the casino with senior citizens. For $5, I travelled four hours and
ended up in an incredible place.
Mui Ne is famous for it's huge sand dunes, kite surfing, and it's six-mile
long tropical beach front. The hotels line the beach on a strip of land
about 100 yards wide, behind which the dunes rise up hundreds of feet.
I'm staying in a sort of bungalow village, 50 feet from the beach. I have
one of the expensive bungalows ($25/night) because it has hot water and
air conditioning.
This area is totally geared for tourists. There are a lot of British,
German, Australian, and Chinese visitors. There are some Americans but
only a handful compared to others. I'm planning to stay here for a while,
several days to a week perhaps. I'm off now to find the Irish pub down
the road. You got to love the Irish for getting around.
Entry #3: Mui Ne, Feb 7, 2006
I'm still hanging in Mui Ne and planning to move on tomorrow - you can
only take so much sun!
Mui Ne is on the South China Sea and at night you can see dozens of
fishing boats glittering on the horizon. In the dark it's like stars
floating in a barely crooked line. The mornings are warm and still, then
the wind picks up around 10am, and the sky quickly fills with the colorful
crescent sails of the wind sailers who have come from all over the world
to one of the best windy beaches. The sea, judging from it's taste and
buoyancy, has a lot of salt in it. You can float on your back while the
swells lift you gradually back to shore, often ending violently as the
last wave grinds your body into the sand, and your shorts fill with broken
shells.
Brief interruption: There are no chickens today (at least not yet), but
there are several tiny geckos crawling on the walls - they're actually
very cute.
Yesterday, I rented a bike from my hotel, the Suoi Tien Mui Ne Resort, and
rode 5 kilometers (that's Vietnamese for .62 miles) to the Fairy Spring.
The Fairy Spring is actually a stream which I followed on foot about one
mile inland to a modest waterfall. The stream has cut a canyon of sorts
into the red and white sand dunes which rise several hundred feet on each
side. The stream is from 2 to 12 inches deep and you walk barefoot right
in it. It's very refreshing and there were about 15 people and 4 brahmin
cows I passed along the way.
When I rented the bike, I asked about a lock because I would be leaving
the bike for an hour or so. The clerk told me to ask a cafe owner to
watch the bike while I was hiking and then give the owner 10,000 Dong
(that's Vietnamese for 60 cents) when I returned. This seems to work very
well. In fact, I ate lunch at the cafe and I even gave her a full dollar
for watching my bike. When I got back on, I noticed the back tire had
gone flat, and after asking a few people, I found someone to inflate it.
I gave him 10,000 Dong, but I guess that was too much so he gave me 8,000
in change.
It's 13 hours later here than in Wisconsin and I realized that if I had
flown across the Atlantic, I could have arrived in just a bit more time
but I would have experienced a night of about 5 or 6 hours along the way.
Going across the Pacific though, you don't get the night, but you still
arrive at the same time, more or less. I'm not sure what my point is here
- it just seemed interesting to me.
I got my first motorbike ride today as I went 8 kilometers to the Po Shanu
Cham Tower. These two towers are about 70 feet high and were built in the
9th century. They are sort of like huge kilns, and they are on the top of
a big hill. My crazed motorbike driver got me there safely, at least
physically safely, but he didn't seem to know where I wanted to go. He
passed the tower and it took me another kilometer to get him to stop. As
I walked back to the tower, I ended up walking with two boys about 12
years old who reminded me of Grasshopper in Kung Fu ("Grab the stone,
Grasshopper"). They took me to the tower the back way, and they live in
this beautiful Buddhist temple built right next to the towers. They
didn't speak much English but really enjoyed showing me where to go. Once
I got there, some cute kids (a trick known around the world) were my
guides even though they spoke no English. They did, though, manage to
communicate that I should leave a little cash in the temple to satisfy the
gods. I left the omnipresent 10,000 Dong note, and walked farther up the
hill. I turned to see the kids sneak back into the tower and take my
money when they thought I was gone. I guess they're more willing to take
a chance with the gods than I am.
I was fortunate to get an AARP-certified motorbike driver on my return
trip. I gave him a considerable tip because he managed to stay in his
lane, did not accelerate in an attempt to throw me from the bike, and
slowed down for every bus that careened towards us. I'm sure he'll retire
soon since he's clearly losing his edge.
I guess I'll go back to the beach now and float the afternoon away. I may
never get this sand out of my ........ shorts.
I'm off to Dalat in the morning.
Entry #4: Da Lat, Feb 9, 2006
I spent 7 hours yesterday winding my way up the southern range of the
Truong Son Mountains. This trip starts at the sea in Mui Ne as the bus
slowly climbs through the enormous red and gold sand dunes and then levels
off on Highway 1A travelling north. The road goes inland and then back to
the sea, passing through fields of rice and other vegetables. The highway
is eerily similar in many places to Highway 101 on the California coast.
At Phan Rang, the bus turned inland and began the sputtering hairpin
journey up to 1,475 meters (that's Vietnamese for 4,500 feet). The road
is about exactly the width of two buses and one motorbike, and there seems
to be a genetic prediposition for the Vietnamese to pass the bus ahead of
them on the curve. The first few times this happens (and it's happened to
me in several other countries as well), the virgin passenger has a
tendency to become very religious, very quickly. But after a couple
hours, you just stop paying attention to it, having fully excepted that
you've already lived a life rich in adventure.
If you're lucky enough to get to the top (I'm just kidding here, we only
saw one accident along the way), the bus heads across the central highland
plains where the road is lined with vegetable fields as far as you can
see. For miles, there is a beautiful patchwork of one-to-two-acre plots
with the gardeners in their colorful linen clothes and conical hats
squatting among the rows of cabbage, tomatoes, peppers, onions, peas,
carrots, beets, lettuce, beans, potatoes, garlic, spinach, squash, yams,
etc. And in the central market in town, there are piles and piles of
these vegetables as well as fruit, meats, and every fresh thing you can
think of. The vendors pile their produce, especially the strawberries,
oranges and other smaller fruit, into beautiful piles.
I arrived by a "tourist bus" which is a nicer way to travel but carries
with it the typical tourist trap situations, like pulling into a hotel and
herding everyone off the bus to try to get them to stay at that place. I
ignored their offers to "help" (believe me, that's the short version of
the story) and walked across town to the Dreams Hotel which I had already
booked. This hotel is run by the cousin of the hotel in Mui Ne, and when
I left Mui Ne the hotel owner gave me an envelope with $42 in it. She
asked me to deliver this to her cousin in Da Lat because some previous
customers had mistakenly left Da Lat without paying and gave the money to
the hotel in Mui Ne. I was pretty shocked that they would trust a
stranger to do this, but they did, and that $42 will come in pretty handy
on my trip.
Da Lat is a very happening place. Very twisty roads that make it
extremely easy to get lost very quickly. The people are all friendly and
you're never too far from where you want to be - you just can't always
figure out exactly where it is. The temperature is cool. Right now it's
in the 60s and it's been drizzly much of the day, but it is still very
pleasant. There's quite a bit to do here. The city itself is very
interesting to explore with countless cafes and shops and markets to
wander through. There are many tours which run the gamut from a one hour
motorbike tour to a 6 day jungle adventure. I'm still sorting out what to
do about that.
I've met several other solo travellers all of whom have fabulous tales to
tell. It's quite an evening to have dinner and drinks with 3 or 4 people
who have travelled everywhere, literally. There's the 50ish English woman
who started her 12 months of travels with a mountain trek in Bhutan 5
months ago. And the Seattle guys who spent an evening drinking homemade
beer from a makeshift keg with the locals on a street corner in Hanoi.
The Japanese woman who is married to an English guy and is continually
mistaken for being Vietnamese even though she can't speak a word of it.
The Irish artist who had to airlifted out of Banos, Ecuador during a
transportation strike. It goes on and on and on and it's just completely
fascinating. My three weeks in Vietnam is a blink of an eye for many of the
travellers I meet. In the US people say, "Wow, you have 3 weeks in
Vietnam." The travellers here, when they hear it's only three weeks, get
a sad look on their face and say, "Oh dear. What a pity!"
So, soon I'm off to have dinner at a Kom Chay cafe. I'm not sure what
that means, and after a while, it doesn't really matter. Sometimes when
you order off of a local menu, you just have to point and pray.
Entry #5: Hoi An, Feb 12, 2006
I'm in Hoi An after a rather lengthy travel and just about to head out to
explore the town. But first, the rest of DaLat....
I took an outstanding motorbike tour in and around Da Lat. The motorbike
driver business is booming in Vietnam. They are really like mopeds and
very few actual motorcycles. Since I have arrived, the motorbike drivers
are offering either rides as a taxi service or tours of a city or
surrounding areas. In the towns, the motorbikes make up the vast majority
of vehicles on the road. There are people walking or riding a bike often
on the edge of the road, with almost constant motorbikes going past in the
busier parts of town. And occasionally a car will be in the mix - maybe
one car for every 50 - 100 motorbikes.
We, myself and two fellow solo travellers, teamed up with an
English-speaking guide who hired two local drivers and the three of us
buzzed around on the backs of our respective bikes. Throughout the 8
hours, we travelled about 60 kilometers and made 12 or so stops. The
mountain roads and fresh air made for a very invigorating experience. We
saw some of the vast flower industry including Gerberas, Roses, Orchids,
and Lilies. Valentines Day was introduced in Vietnam about 10 years ago,
mostly in the urban areas, and the rose business is growing
astronomically. We saw men chiseling slabs of granite from the huge
boulders on the hill sides and breaking them into shoebox-sized bricks.
This is an illegal business but no one bothers them or the thousands of
bricks that they have accumulated at the side of the road. Soon a truck
will haul them to buyers in the area. We saw a silk factory (very
interesting but too long to explain - short version - grow cocoons, boil,
spin off the silk, wrap, loom, tailor, sell kimono). We visited a
mushroom farm, a rice wine maker, a coffee plantation, a
prehistoric-looking waterfall, a pagoda with a huge smiling Buddha, a
meditation center, an eccentric painter's home, and ate lunch on the
balcony of a local family's home, overlooking the precipitous jungle-clad
hillsides. It definitely a highlight so far. Our guide gave us many
small lectures about Buddhism. Short version: "Karma: Do today for
tomorrow."
A group of five of us ate for the second night in a row at a terrific
restaurant. A sample of the food during these two meals: lotus stem
salad, chicken asparagus soup, pizza, tofu with lemongrass, and a baked
clay pot of rice, chicken, and veggies. Did I mention beer? Saigon beer,
to be exact. It's not great beer, but it's plentiful.
I've held off on this story until I knew the ending: Five days ago when I
rode from Mui Ne to Da Lat, the bus stopped unexpectedly and the driver
said "We switch bus." So about ten of us on that bus moved onto another
bus which continued to Da Lat. I had been talking to someone when this
happened and since we went so suddenly, I forgot to grab my guitar off the
bus I left. At our next stop, I talked with someone who investigated a
little bit and said, "No problem. Guitar will come tomorrow." When the
guitar did not come tomorrow, I asked my hotel owner in Da Lat to help.
She made many phone calls and the following day she told me the guitar was
in town at the bus station. I went there immediately and was directed
onto a bus where my guitar was exactly where I left it, still in tune!
So, onto Hoi An. The trip from Da Lat to Hoi An is a bit like trains,
planes, and automobiles. This version involves buses, trains, taxis, and
26 hours. The bus ($4) leaves Da Lat for a six hour journey to Nha Trang
at 7:30am. You must spend the afternoon in Nha Trang waiting for the "soft
sleeper berth" on the 10pm night train ($22) to Danang which arrives at
6:30am. Then the taxi takes you 3 kilometers to the bus station, and the
bus takes you to Hoi An, backtracking 30 kilometers south. There are
faster ways and there are slower ways, and apparently everyone just has to
figure out which way works best. Many people spend a few days in Nha
Trang, but my limited time has me moving on.
So here I am now at Thien Nga hotel. It's about 80 degrees and a bit
breezy. I'm going out to see that town and I'll let you know in a couple
days.
Entry #6: Hoi An, Feb 14, 2006
I am still in Hoi An and staying another day or two. It's a relaxing town
yet has enough activity to make it interesting. I switched hotels this
morning because, even though the one I was at for two nights was fairly
nice, it was also fairly dead. I'm finding that there are subtle
differences that one must distinguish quickly about each hotel regarding
the friendliness of the staff, communal atmosphere, and general welcoming
environment. Many of these hotels are welcoming initially, yet there is
sometimes not much substance behind it. I have just arrived at the Thien
Thanh hotel at 8am and already they are offering me coffee and breakfast
on the deck where many other travellers also congregate. It's the sort of
place where I could hang around all day.
After having arrived on the night train a couple days ago, I wandered
around town the first day, mostly in a railroad haze. There are in fact
decent beds on the train (sort of like a camper) but it's still a train.
Yesterday (my second day here) I dove more into the city. Hoi An is quite
famous for it's custom tailoring. There are literally hundreds of tailor
storefronts around town. They tend to occupy about 15 feet of sidewalk
and they are from 15 to 40 feet deep. The entire storefront is opened up
and multiple body forms sit proudly on the sidewalk clad in samples of the
stores' wares. There may be five to ten headless dresses or business
suits or jackets standing at attention. Or, my favorite, the shapely,
plastic, torso-less legs that somehow, even with their lifelessness, make
silk skirts and linen pants look very sexy (I will appreciate no further
analysis of this confession).
I wandered baitingly close to these stores as I strolled the streets until
a lovely young Vietnamese woman reeled me in. I asked her for some linen
pants and she showed me the various styles and fabrics. After the
decision-making process (not as easy as you might think), they measured
several of my lower body parts, carefully recording the information, and
then they took my $13. They told me to return at 2pm (approximately 4
hours later) which I did. When I returned, I tried on the pants and found
them very nice. They were slightly too long and a bit bellbottomish, so I
asked them to fix that which they did. Then they proceeded to talk me
into a shirt (actually, I had already decided to get a shirt). They
didn't have the fabric I wanted (a tan background with an off-white plaid
pattern) but one of the women left ("I go to my sister shop") and returned
5 minutes later with exactly what I requested. Again, the measuring of
body parts and "come back tonight at 7pm." I didn't make it back until
the next day, but there was the shirt - a perfect fit!
I had an interesting experience, which has little to do with Vietnam. In
Da Lat, I met a couple and talked with them for a few minutes one
afternoon. When I was boarding the train to Hoi An two days later, I ran
into the man who said that his girlfriend had told him to hit the road
after 3 years of relationship and the current 3 months of travel. We rode
the train together and parted ways, he staying in Danang and me continuing
to Hoi An. Several hours later, I walked into a restaurant in Hoi An and
saw the woman from the couple. I sat with her and ate lunch and we
decided we would get together for dinner later. A couple hours later, I
saw the man walking around town (apparently he hadn't stayed in Danang).
We all met for dinner (and have had a second and will have a third
tonight). We're actually having a lot of fun, going about our business
during the day and meeting up for socializing at night.
I rented a bike today for 60 cents. It's a great way to breeze around the
city while requiring a fair amount of attention as you use the same road
ways as the motorbikes, cars, buses, and pedestrians. The cooperation on
the road is really quite amazing. Everyone moves almost seamlessly around
each other, often with little regard for which side of the street, or the
color of the traffic light, or any sort of structured approach. As
chaotic as it seemed at first, it's starting to seem quite natural and
easy.
I'm off to a bit of lounging on the deck now to rest before a strenous
dinner.
Entry #7: Hoi An, Feb 16, 2006
Well, I can't seem to extract myself from Hoi An. I've just spent my
fourth night here and I'm committed to at least one more. I have steady
dinner companions (this makes a remarkable difference) and have had very
relaxing days (except for the shoe episode yesterday). I have planned out
what I'll do once I leave here, and I need to leave by Saturday to make it
work.
Yesterday, I took a bus tour to My Son (pronounced Me Sewn). Me and
hundreds of other cattle were herded along until we had no strength left,
and then we simply submitted to the almighy Tour Guide ("I will be tour
guide for your pleasure today tank you bedy much"). My Son is a
collection of temples that were created shortly before the earth was
formed. There's a whole historical thing about it, but you don't care, do
you? It's just a bunch of broken rock piles now whose primary
significance is attracting cattle with cameras hanging off their horns and
lots of money in their saddle bags. I'm not bitter about it though. It
gave me the opportunity to sweat out gallons of useless liquid and to chat
with some nice Dutch women.
I've been to the Post Office each of the past two days to mail some things
home (The first day, I forgot one of the addresses so I had to return).
Four weeks by air, four months by sea (they tie buoys and homing devices
to the packages and throw them in the ocean). I spent a total of $103 for
the equivalent of mailing a grocery bag of stuff. For the sake of
comparison, my average meal costs about $3. The most interesting thing
about mailing packages overseas from here is the paperwork. It is most
similar to getting a mortgage or to applying for citizenship in
Afghanistan. They are quite thorough, although, come to think of it, I
have no idea what I was signing. Signing 16 times, that is. They point,
I sign ("Here. Here. Here. Here. Here. Here. Here. Here. Here. Here. Here.
Here. Here. Here. Here. Here."). They also won't mail it unless you show
them what you're sending which seems like a pretty good safety measure.
For international mailings in the US, they just ask you what's in it and
you tell them. I actually just took my things to the Hoi An PO in a bag,
and they provided the boxes and packed it for free. I'm sure it'll be
fine.
So, I have now been to four tailors and two cobblers. I don't know what's
happening to me, but it's a little frightening. I have four shirts and
one pair of pants all of which are quite nice. Later today, I pick up
another pair of pants and some shoes. Speaking of shoes, I did order
shoes a couple days ago. She had me stand on a piece of paper (which they
pulled from a garbage can) and traced both of my feet. She measured
around them a little bit and said, "Tomorrow at 11." When I returned
tomorrow at 11, she said that her brother needed to measure again for the
sole and that she would take me to his house by motorbike (one kilometer).
Now, I'm a pretty busy guy, so I told her to have her brother come to her
shop. Well, anyway, it didn't work, so I went. When I got there, I could
clearly see that they had not started my shoes, that they did not know how
to make my shoes, and that I was going to end up with something very
crappy. Even though I can't understand a word they say, there was no
mistaking the baffled look on the cobbler's face. So I said "Forget it,"
and they said "But sir..." and I said "Goodbye." I started walking back
and she caught up to me halfway and gave me a ride the rest of the way.
In the end, I got back to the main shop and asked for my money ($30) and
they gave it to me. It was a bizarre experience though. So, of course, I
went to a different shop today to have the shoes made. Please pray for
me.
Actually, for the sake of accurate journalism, the tailors have been
terrific and very gracious. The above story is quite the exception.
I met a guy from Oregon in my hotel who rented a motorcycle (Minsk, for
those in the know), and he's taking it to Saigon, a journey of at least
1,000 miles. Otherwise, he seemed like a perfectly reasonable fellow.
It's hot and steamy here, probably just as you might expect. Even so,
it's not unpleasant. There's a gentle breeze and an afternoon of leisure.
I'm taking a cooking class tonight - maybe I'll make you some nice spring
rolls or tofu with lemongrass when I get back. And don't make that face
about the tofu - it's incredible!
Entry #8: Hue, Feb 19, 2006
Reporting in from Hue as I continue my northward journey. I can hardly
believe that I'm coming home in 5 days. We've got Hanoi and Halong Bay
still ahead of us. But, back to our story....
On my last evening in Hoi An, I took an evening cooking class at the Hai
Scout restaurant. There were eight of us attending, and they had us sit
around a table with the very funny Vietnamese chef standing at one end
demonstrating the meal preparation. He prepared Mackerel wrapped in
Banana Leaf, Squid Salad, and Fried Vegetable Spring Rolls. It was very
interesting and all fairly simple to make. With unusual ingredients that
are difficult to find outside of Southeast Asia (ie. Choko - a squash-like
vegetable, Wood Ear Mushrooms), he told us what to substitute in the
recipe. He also showed us some very rudimentary cutting utensils that are
used, very effectively, to shred green papaya and to slice very thin
sections of green beans. We ate all of this food in addition to fried
wontons and White Rose, rice paper (in the shape of a rose, sort of)
filled with little pieces of pork or shrimp. He said that both of these
recipes are secret ("like Coca Cola") and the only way to learn them is to
marry into the particular family. He added a warning, though, that if you
ever try to get out of the family, "they would have to kill you." All the
food was terrific, and 5 of us went out for drinks afterwards on the
terrace at the very happening Tam Tam Cafe.
I took bus on the 4 hour ride north from Hoi An to Hue. This trip begins
and ends on flat sections of Highway 1 cruising through towns and
farmland, but the middle section is stunning. The road climbs from the
sea to 1,500 feet very quickly north of Danang, right up into the clouds
and rain. The mountainsides are lush and steep as the pavement barely
holds its ground, hugging the slowly eroding cliffs. As we came out of
the mist, we entered the Hai Van Pass, known as the dividing line between
the climate of the north and south. This is the most stunning strip of
road I have ever been on. There is quite a bit of traffic which backs up
because of the curves and climbs, and sometimes they get a little close to
the edge. One beer truck was laying on its side and another freight truck
was stuck with one wheel off the road. In both cases, there were crews of
15 to 20 people taking the load off the trucks and putting it onto
another.
Hue, the next stop in our journey, is divided into north and south
sections by the Perfume River. (You might think that the Perfume River
smells really bad, kind of like nicknaming a big man Shorty. You'd be
wrong. It doesn't smell at all). There is a large university and it's
known as a UNESCO cultural heritage site because it used to the captial
and has a lot of historical monuments.
My first day in Hue, I took a city tour which visited three magnificent
tombs, an incense and hat making business, the Citadel, the Thien My
Pagoda, and finished with a boat ride down the Huong Song (Perfume River).
I was looking forward to the boat ride and I was unpleasantly surprised
to be on a very loud and gasoline-smelling boat. The couple and young son
lived on the boat. While the man captained the boat downriver for 20
minutes, his wife performed the duties of stewardess, souvenir vendor, and
first mate.
The Citadel, within the city of Hue, is the ancient enclosed compound from
which emperors ruled as recently as 100 years ago. The Citadel is 520
hectares which is Vietnamese for "really big." The tombs, on the
outskirts of Hue, were built by each emperor as the place they would be
buried. During the war, the Viet Cong used the Citadel as their base in
this area, and during the Tet Offensive, the US bombed the majority of the
area within the Citadel destroying about 75% of the buildings. The
remaining buildings are quite nice, very palacial and temple-like.
The Thien My Pagoda is a Buddhist temple and monastery where 27 monks are
currently living. Tourists are allowed to walk throughout the entire
facility which is a very symmetrical area of peaceful walkways that
encircle temples, statues, and living areas. This pagoda has been famous
throughout Vietnam for a long time, and it became known throughout the
world when one of it's monks lit himself on fire in Saigon to protest the
war. His picture was on the cover of Life (I think) and he was sitting
cross-legged in the street in the center of a huge raging flame. He had
driven from the pagoda to Saigon in an Austin car which is on display at
the pagoda.
During my day tour, I met a young Japanese woman who is studying the
Vietnamese language and wants to work at a travel agency in the US. She
came to Vietnam alone during her college break to "do research" about
tourism. She had written out 20 questions and was asking hotel staff,
waiters, tour guides, and vendors to complete it. The questions asked if
people liked tourism in their country, if their salary was increasing
because of it, if tourism was eroding the traditional cultures of Vietnam,
if they felt that tourism should grow, etc. She told me that she had
gotten about 50 of these completed in 9 days. I had dinner with her and
she handed out a couple at the restaurant, and I could see that the staff
was very willing to share their impressions with her. It was quite
interesting.
I'm off to wander the city today. Stay tuned as our story moves onto the
capital city, Hanoi.
Entry #9: Hanoi, Feb 21, 2006
I arrived in Hanoi on a one-hour flight from Hue yesterday. The flight
was flawless - a very comfortable airbus jet nicer than the ones I'm used
to in the US. They even fed us a sandwich and a chocolate. I had
forgotten until the last minute that I had purchased a cheap knife here to
cut fruit, so just before I got to the security area, I remembered and
quickly pulled it out and threw it away - I saw the people in line behind
me smiling. I shared a taxi with a Danish guy from the Hanoi airport to
the Old Quarter, the hip and flavorful neighborhood in Hanoi. On the
fourth try, and after fending off numerous hawkers in the street, I ended
up in the Old Street Hotel, an old and small but clean hotel. Couldn't
beat the $10/night price.
Hanoi is a charming and cosmopolitan city, many interesting neighborhoods
and several peaceful lakes and pagodas throughout the city. The Old
Quarter is similar in theme to older, popular sections of US cities, such
as the French Quarter in New Orleans or Greenwich Village in New York.
Historically, this was the center of the city and the daily market place.
The streets are named after the traditional items that were sold on that
street, each section about one block long. Almost every street starts
with Hang and then there is another word. Hang Gai is the silk street;
Hang Quat is fans and flags; Hang Ga is chicken and so on through the
dozens of marketplace items. It's very interesting but difficult because
the streets often change names at each corner.
Hanoi is the root of Vietnamese socialism and well known for all things Ho
Chi Minh (HCM). He is known as the Red Father, and by all accounts that I
have heard, much beloved by the Vietnamese people. The quick story - he
loves the workers, he freed Vietnam from the French, he defeated the US,
he's the man! On a van tour today, I visited the HCM Mausoleum. He died
in 1969 yet his body lies quite peacefully for the world to view. There
is an ongoing debate about whether this is actually body or a dummy
double. It's a little slice of Communism to go through this process.
There are guards all around, and they make you stand "two by two" and they
don't let you talk. The line is quite long and if you don't move
immediately when the person in front of you moves, a guard will step
forward and sternly show you where you are supposed to be. It's actually
quite laughable that they are so serious (but, believe me, no one was
laughing).
I met a Dutch couple on my travels from Hue to Hanoi and the guy, Hans,
started asking me about the little guitar that I was carrying. After a
bit, I told him that I was a singer-songwriter and let him listen to me on
my iPod. He said that he is part of a folk club in Holland and he would
love to have me come play at one of their concerts. We haven't worked out
the details but he seemed pretty serious about it. We talked for a while
and the three of us went out to dinner later. It was a great time and he
has invited me to come to his house and he'll drive me around Holland and
neighboring countries. How cool is that?
And how cool is this.....? The night before I met a guy from Florence who
runs a guesthouse. He is riding a bicycle, yes a bicycle, from Hanoi to
Saigon (over 1,000 miles). We had a few beers and solved most of the
worlds problems (the conversations in bars inevitably include George Bush
and his cast of characters). He then invited me to stay in his guesthouse
at no charge when I'm in Italy. You can check it out at www.ilghiro.it.
So, the point here is that I'm not coming home. Tomorrow, I'm off to
Halong Bay, then I'm going to Italy and then to Holland, and by that time,
I hope to have met someone who invites me somewhere else. Perhaps I'll
run into you guys along the way. (Private message to my boss - please
keep auto-depositing my checks until I notify you otherwise).
Be careful out there - you never know where you'll end up.
Entry #10 (Final): Tokyo, Feb 24, 2006
Well my friends, this is our last chapter. I am currently stranded in the Narita Airport (Tokyo) on a 12 hour layover and I`m watching my 10 minutes for 100 yen internet time dwindle away.
My last hurrah in Vietnam was a two day tour to Halong Bay. Halong Bay is
a stunning calm sea with hundreds of islands rising up from the water. The consensus among our tour group was that King Kong must have been filmed here. Some islands are just 10 meters across and 10 meters high, while others are several square kilometers rising dramatically into the misty sky. The bay and islands were formed by dragons who came from the hills
and dragged their tails, carving out the vall eys between the islands.
(I'm not making this up. This is actually what they tell you, and you start to believe them).
There were 12 tourists on the boat, and we sailed into the thicket of islands, visited a cave, and climbed to the top of an island to have a look around. We had lunch, dinner, and breakfast on the boat and also had our owns sleeping rooms which were quite nice. A kitten lived on board the boat and seemed quite happy to walk anywhere it wanted to go in search of food and petting. The trip was really peaceful even though there were as many as 17 other boats anchored overnight in the same harbor. We left Hanoi at 7:30am, boarded the boat at noon, spent 24 hours on board, and returned to Hanoi at 4pm the following day.
I had hoped to go into Tokyo during my layover. In fact, I went out to
dinner the other night and a Japanese couple got seated at my table
because the restaurant was full. (Please insert another 100 yen. Thank
you.) I told them that I was stopping over in Tokyo on my way home, and he
drew me a map and wrote out several phrases in Japanese that I could show
people to help me use the subway. He also told me about a famous restaurant that serves tiny eels in boiling hot pots. This was my plan, but I am quite exhausted and I`ve found a rest house next to the hotel that rents rooms for the day. So that`s where I`m headed soon.
For those who like the details of a trip like this, here`s a few tidbits:
During 20 nights in Vietnam, I visited 7 seven cities, slept in 10
different beds, and was transported by plane, train, motorbike, bicycle,
boat, taxi, van, bus, foot, and elevator. Once in the country, I spent less than $900 on lodging, transportation, food, drink, and organized tours. I saw four traffic accidents, all of them minor. I got to know over 50 people from Ireland, England, USA, Sweden, Holland, Italy, Israel, France, Australia, Denmark, Laos, Germany, Japan, New Zealand, Norway, Indonesia, and, of course, Vietnam.
And I have to say (in a brief flash of philosophical poetry) that when all
is said and done, this trip, and every international trip I have taken, is not really about the monuments or the countryside, the beaches or towns, nor the history that bubbles beneath these places. In the end, it's all about the people who welcome you into their country; the people with whom you share
a meal or a bus seat or an hour on the beach; the people whose infinite
paths cross as they wander the globe; the people who move about the planet deliberately to share in and be inspired by the incredible things that the world has to offer. I feel very privileged to be able to have these experiences and to share them with you.
So, where shall we go next .... the Central American isthmus, encircle the Black Sea, ride the Russian railway from Helsinki to Beijing....
Safe and exciting travels to all of you,
Greg