Days 130-133: Vietnam part 3

In which we go 'off truck' again on route to Cambodia.

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Days 130 & 131 (Ho Chi Minh City and beyond)

The morning after our crazy golf and cocktails evening, we took the bus with everyone else from Mui Ne to Ho Chi Minh City (usually abbreviated to HCMC) formerly, and still referred to as, Saigon, where we arrived hot and exhausted at about 2.30pm after a sweltering six hour journey. A quick phone call from Karen to the hostel brought one of their staff to where the bus had dropped us to escort us on the short walk to where showers were waiting to receive and revitalise our tired bodies. The hostel was perfectly nice (as hostels go) but didn’t despite Karen’s best efforts, have a double en-suite room for us to go into straight away.

Apparently there had been a mix up between reception staff, and the room earmarked for us had been mistakenly promised to the couple already in it, who had asked to extend their stay. Having been told that that was fine, the couple, not unreasonably left for the day and, of course, no one could say when they would be returning to be told they now couldn’t stay and, ‘by the way, would you mind moving out as soon as possible so we can give your room to someone else.’ We thought it quite likely that they would mind, so took matters in to our own hands and went in search of alternative accommodation, which was found at the third place of asking, a very nice three-star hotel opposite a small park. We couldn’t afford a park view (nor, indeed, any view) but were quite happy with our ‘standard’ (no window) room, which we thought would be good practice for our cruise to Australia, for which we have a money-saving inside cabin.

Initially, we booked in for three nights like the rest of the group at the hostel, but changed to two after looking at some of the trips and tours we were able to book via the hotel. In place of a third night there, we booked onto a two-day Mekong riverboat trip to our next port of call, Phnom Penh in Cambodia. This would mean having one day less in Saigon (frankly no great sacrifice) and replacing it with various water-based sightseeing opportunities, including crossing the border into Cambodia by boat and travelling up the Mekong direct to the centre of Phnom Penh. But all that is for later. Let me continue instead with my account of our now one and a bit days in Saigon/HCMC.

Actually, ‘the bit’ was what was left of the day we arrived. What with the journey, the traipsing around trying to find room at the inn then going back to the hostel for our luggage, all in the heat of the afternoon, all we did for the remaining daylight hours was shower eat and sleep, and by the time we’d rested, it was time to eat again. We decided to try the hotel’s own restaurant, which was on the 12th floor – basically the roof, the lift only going up to the 11th – which had a terrace with views out over the city. We chose two of their set Asian meals (very tasty and included fresh pancake rolls, which the waitress showed us how to make) and rewarded ourselves for surviving the day – how pathetic is that – with gin and tonics.

 

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The next morning, we took a walk through a park (Tao Dan) with topiary dragons to the Reunification Palace, which has been left just as it was – fifties furniture and all – when the French pulled out of South Vietnam. Actually it’s history begins in 1868 after the French invasion and colonisation of southern Vietnam. When the palace was completed in 1873, it was called Norodom Palace (after the then king of Cambodia) and later renamed the Governor’s Palace and used by all the French governors as their residence and offices.

Fast forward now to after WWII, when the French were reinstated as colonialist after the Japanese, who had defeated the French there, surrendered to the Allies in 1945.

It gets a bit confusing in the 1950s with southern Vietnam enduring something of a power struggle and changing hands a few times but ending up under the rule of the self proclaimed president of the Republic of Vietnam (not to be confused with the communist state of North Vietnam) who renamed it Independence Palace. (It was also referred to as the Dragon’s Head Palace because of some fengshui thing, but let’s not worry about that.)

In the early sixties, during the Vietnam war, it was bombed by a couple of rouge pilots, but rebuilt as the New Independence Palace by the mid sixties. However, in 1975, the North Vietnamese swept south and at 10:45 on April 30th of that year, a tank of the North Vietnamese army bulldozed through the gates of the palace and base of operations for the South Vietnamese, effectively ending the Vietnam war.

In November 1975, following negotiations between the north and south, and the signing of a convention between the two, the palace was renamed Reunification Hall,  but now it’s known as the Reunification Palace. Don’t know when that happened. Sorry.

After lunch, we wandered about a bit, taking in the old French colonial post office, which looks more like an old railway station; Notre Dame cathedral, which was closed; the Diamond Shopping Centre, which was very much open; the opera house and a couple of posh hotels around there including The Rex, where so many news reports were filed by journalists staying there during the Vietnam war.

By then it was rush hour and getting kind-a chaotic, so we returned to our hotel for a cup of tea, a shower and a rest before venturing out again for dinner at the Ho Chi Minh City Hard Rock Cafe. Oh the irony of it.

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Days 132 & 133 (HCMC to Phnom Penh)

We were collected from our hotel at 7.30 am and walked to the meeting point for our boat tour/trip to Cambodia. First stop (by bus) was Cai Be in the Mekong Delta, were we boarded our first boat, which took us through the floating market there. After a short ride, we got off and visited a house were a woman showed us how to make paper-thin and translucent rice pancakes, like the ones we had our first night on the roof terrace. Next stop was another house where they were making coconut candy (yummy) in various flavours and distilling rice wine (less so).

Back on the boat, we were piloted through a maze of canals and waterways to a small village where, after a bit of a walk through mangroves, we had a simple but delicious lunch of rice and vegetables with a bit of chicken thrown in for good measure. From there, the boat took us to Vinh Long and from there, a bus took us (plus some others on a converging tour) to Long Xuyen and the Blue Skies Crocodile Farm, where, we were told, they have some 15,000 crocodiles - mostly boys, as apparently their skins make the best handbags for girls.

From there the bus took us on to our floating hotel by the Mekong at Chau Doc, and it was here, when wanting to get the co-ordinates for my usual location tweet, that I discovered I had somehow managed to leave our phone behind in Saigon. Unfortunately, by the time we managed to get through to the hotel there, there was no sign of it. All in all a rather sad way to end what had been a good day on and off the Mekong and its delta that wasn’t made any better by our rather grotty cabin and a somewhat disappointing meal.

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The next morning, after an early start, a cold shower, an okay breakfast and some confusion over where to put our bags and which boat to get on, we set off for the next of our touristy add-ons: a visit to a fish farm, where it was explained by the guide how very expensive the fish food is now just before he threw several scoopfuls of the stuff to the ready and waiting fish, who responded as if he’d chucked in a live wire. The boil of these frenzied fish was extraordinary, akin to a Hollywood depiction of a piranha attack.

Next, the last stop before the boat took us off to Phnom Penh, we visited a Cham village. (You may remember that it was the Cham people who built the temples and tombs at My Son before being displaced by the Viet people.) The day we were there happened to be the last day of their New Year celebrations and we saw cows being butchered, presumably for some feast or other. The Cham people – one of Vietnam’s 50 or so minority ethnic groups – though originally Hindu, are now mostly Muslim and we were taken to see a Madrasa, where one of the cows was being butchered in the Halal way.

Once on our way again, one of the boat crew collected our passports and some forms we’d been given to complete the night before. When we got to the Vietnamese side of the border, we all got out of the boat and waited inside the border post (where snacks were available) while the crew member took our passports and forms to be processed. This was accomplished with no fuss or difficulty and we were back on the boat and on our way to the Cambodian side of the border with half an hour or so.

At the Cambodian border post, which was only a few minutes up the river, we all got out again and waited. This was quite possibly the prettiest border post we’ve ever seen. Immaculately kept lawns surrounded seating areas with thatched sun shelters and paths lead to ornate shrines and small pagodas. The staff were friendly and efficient and quickly processed our visas and customs declarations. Sometimes at border crossings, we’ve felt like we’re not really welcome, always suspect and frequently a bit of a nuisance. Here, we felt welcomed as guests.

Back on board one last time, now inside country number 23, we sped on, past boats and villages, large and small, towards it’s capital, Phnom Penh. We arrived (just along the riverbank from the Royal Palace) mid afternoon, about seven hours after leaving the Cham village, of which about one hour max was border crossing.

By the way: although we’ve arrived at countries by boat before – France, of course, and Turkmenistan – I think that’s the first time I’ve crossed a land border by boat. Ironic since Cambodia is landlocked.

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Next time, I’ll tell you about our time in Phnom Penh, where I am now, and Siem Reap, where we go tomorrow.

TTFN - N

Saigon Musings

Just fitting in a quick muse on the fact that weare lucky to be alive after our day wandering around Saigon, also known as Ho Chi Minh City. It was with great relief that we arrived back at the hotel  in one piece.  In fact we celebrated the fact with a pot of tea and a beer on the roof  terrace, from which safe distance we could look down on the source of our near-death experience: Motorbikes and scooters.

 

 

Not just one or  two, but millions and millions of the things, coming at you from all angles:

 



Crossing the road becomes a real 'adventure' and there is a trick to doing it -basically you just keep walking and hope that the bikes (and cars and taxis and buses and anything else) has seen you, judged the speed that you are walking at and, making allowances, will miss you.  You will therefore arrive safe and sound on the other side of the  road.  But you do have to take into consideration the fact that it is not just traffic coming at you from the normal two directions.  Sometimes they cross over all of the traffic and come up the kerb at the zebra crossing you are walking on.

There are tourist security police/guards all over the city and at several crossings they confidently stode out into the traffic and we confidently followed, thinking, foolishly as it turned out, that the traffic would stop and that these nice young men would be the helpful, safe way of crossing the roads.  In fact, even though they have noticeable green uniforms on, the traffic just ignores these police too and it is just as dangerous crossing with them as without.

Then of course there are the added hazards which we hadn't expected. We were applying the wrong set of road rules, thinking that most countries would follow the same basic principles in road safety.  So when we were safely on the pavement after a rather stressful crossing of several roads at a roundabout we breathed a sigh of relief, only to find the bikes and scooters couldn't be bothered to wait for the lights at the junction and decided to use the pavement as their right of  way, so we nearly died as tens of bikes drove acoss our path:

Easier roads to cross were one way streets when you only had to worry about traffic coming from one direction, until walking along the pavement, you were tooted by a bike coming against the flow of the traffic but on the pavement rather than the road and irritated that you had the temerity to be walking in their way.  Finally we sought sanctuary in the parks, where there was peace and a bit of calm.

I have crossed roads in India, with added cows and elephants, as well as roads in Cairo with the extra excitement of Ramadan and drivers who haven't eaten enough trying to get home for their food at sunset, but I don't think I have experienced anything like these Saigin roads!

 

Days 125–129: Vietnam part 2

In which we endure yet more sleeper buses, get wet, eat curry and get a round in.

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Days 125 to 127 (Nha Trang)

Our bus from Hoi An to Nha Trang arrived, after a sleepless night, at our hotel at 6.00 am, normally far too early to check-in, and yet our rooms were ready for us, which was just as well, as all any of us were fit for was to crash out and catch up on a few hours of sleep. We had a late breakfast at a restaurant next door and sat on their veranda out of the very hot sun.

Back at the hotel, while I slept some more, Juli uploaded some photographs and found that the internet connection was reasonably quick, so we took advantage and went onto the web site of the Singapore to Sydney cruise company to sort out a drinks package and looked at their excursion packages, in the end, booking only one: a tour round Bali, the ship’s only stop in Indonesia.

We met up with Adam and Corinne for an Indian in the evening, which was great and apparently cooked by the only Indian chef in Nha Trang. When we got back, having slept during the day, Ironically, I found I couldn’t sleep, so stayed up quite late writing for the blog. These sleepless sleeper busses really mess up my sleep patterns. They’re a good option for maximising daylight time at a given destination (and for combining transportation and accommodation on one ticket) but, in addition to knackering you for the next day, you don’t see anything of the countryside, as you pass through it in darkness.

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Just off the coast from Nha Trang is an island resort called Vinpearl Land, which, in addition to having Vietnam’s largest aquarium and the world’s longest cross-water cable car, has an extensive water park with all sorts of slides, rides and flumes (with names like ‘Tsunami’, ‘Kamikaze’ and ‘Free Fall’), a couple of pools and an almost kilometre long ‘Lazy River’: a meandering canal with an artificial current that carries you around the resort on inflatable rings for one, two or three people. Brilliant.

The four of us – Juli, me, Adam and Corinne – got up extra early, breakfasted, took a taxi to the mainland cable car terminal and bought our day passes ready for when the cable car started running at 9.00 am.

We had a brilliant time, did loads, stayed there till gone 4.00 pm and still didn’t manage to get round half of it. It wasn’t crowded, the food wasn’t overpriced, everything was clean and we can even say that we had a swim in the South China Sea. A great day out.

The view back to the main land from the world's longest cross-water cable car

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The next day was taken at a much more leisurely pace: lie-in; late breakfast; picnic lunch, bought the day before and shared with Adam and Corinne on the private roof-top terrace our two rooms shared. After that our lazy day continued with catching up on diaries, blog posts and e-mails etc. Later we went out for a delicious seafood dinner – just the two of us – at the place with the veranda where we’d had breakfast the first day.

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Days 128 & 129 (Mui Ne)

The bus to our next port of call was yet another daytime sleeper bus, a fourth kind with no more leg room than any of the others, but seemingly harder seats, which sent our bums to sleep if not our heads. On the way, we saw acres and acres of rice paddy fields – most planted up, some just harvested with the rice spread out to dry and some being ploughed by water buffalos – also coconut palms and banana trees. In addition, we saw very many fields of what I think were Aloe Vera plants. The other thing we saw in great numbers that we hadn’t seen elsewhere were hammocks: singularly and in groups; in use and vacant. must be a South Vietnamese thing.

Aloe Vera plants?

Six hours after leaving Nha Trang, we arrived at the old fishing village of Mui Ne, or rather somewhere along the belt of beach resorts between it and the much newer town (city?) of Phan Thiet. After changing more money and having lunch at our hotel, which was on the other side of the road to the smarter beach-front resorts, we strolled over the road to a likely looking hotel to ask at their reception desk if we could sit by their under utilised pool – none of the hotels were very busy, it being the end of the season – in exchange for us buying drinks there, but for some reason they wouldn’t hear of it. Guests only.

Instead, we wandered up the beach a little way then turned and walked back down again. When we got to the hotel that wouldn’t let us in, we spotted two of our truckmates sitting under one of their sun shades. “How did you get in?” “We just walked in.” They hadn’t asked and so weren’t turned away. So we joined them and ordered tea, which the pool bar waiter was more than happy to serve us.

The rest of the day was spent looking up excursions for our main cruise at the ports were we’d already decided we couldn’t easily organise our own tours (all far too expensive or not particularly interesting) shopping (unsuccessfully) for a new swimsuit for Juli, looking for dinner (a very nice fish curry at our own hotel, in the end) and looking at hotels in Singapore for between finishing the truck trip and embarking on our first cruise in to Sydney. Not long now: just one month, as I write.

***

I spent most the day between breakfast and dinner-time blogging: editing old posts and writing new ones. Juli was a bit more active, going out again in search of a new swimsuit, again unsuccessfully, but while she was out, she made two important discoveries. Firstly that there was a crazy golf course a short way up the road, and the second that a short way past that, there was an Indian restaurant.

We love a game of crazy golf, not that we’re any good at it, but a holiday just isn’t a holiday without one. We’ve been round crazy golf courses all over the world. This one was special, though: apart from the lush garden setting and the fact that we were playing by little more than moonlight, the unique selling point of this course were the cocktails – Mojito for me; Tequila Sunrise for Juli; brought to you as you play – and included in the ticket price. Now that’s class.

The score, you ask? Two drinks all. About par for the course these days.

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Next time, I’ll tell you all about our time in Ho Chi Minh City, where we’ve just arrived.

TTFN - N

Days 120–124: Vietnam part 1

In which we endure more sleeper busses, explore some of Vietnam’s pre-colonial past and Juli has a frock frenzy.

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Day 120 (continued) and 121 (Hue)

So, one third of the way through our 360 days, having arrived in Hue ahead of the main party, checked into our hotel and booked a tour for the next day, we spent the rest of the afternoon wandering round the town with Christopher and Gayle. The hotel had given us a map and we went in search of some pagodas shown on it as being near some canals – we like a nice canal – and anything else we could find. We found one of the pagodas, but the other two were being renovated, so we couldn’t see those.

Hue is situated on the Huong or Perfumed river, apparently named for the perfume like aroma given to it by flowers from orchards up river of Hue falling into the river in the Autumn. Well, we were there in the Autumn and detected very little evidence of any such effect. We did, however find a floating restaurant with a rooftop terrace we thought might be nice for dinner, so booked a table for the seven of us (in case the others fancied joining us) for later. There’s a small park by the river that has a band stand in it, which was being setup for some sort of free concert that evening, as luck would have it, just a head of our dinner reservation. Having made a note of the start time, we headed back to the hotel to shower and to tell the others about the concert and dinner reservation

Shortly before the concert was due to start, the four of us met up (the others having plans of their own, it transpired) and wandered back to the park, where the concert had already started. It turned out to be a guitar orchestra (about 15 of them) playing tunes in a range of musical styles that had been arranged for their particular mix of instruments, including cover versions of American rock classics such as Hotel California by the Eagles.

When we arrived at the restaurant after the concert, there was a printed notice welcoming Juli Sims’ party. We thought that was a nice touch and it reminded us of being met at the railway station in Agra by a driver sent from our hotel there to collect us who held up a sign on which was written ‘Jolie Shins’.
In truth, the restaurant wasn’t all that: I’m not sure any of us got exactly what we’d ordered and the food was only okay, but the location – on the ‘Perfumed’ river next to a long, illuminated bridge which changed colour and opposite a row of prominent waterfront buildings with neon signs was great and reminded us a little of the views from the Kowloon Waterfront Promenade in Hong Kong.

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The next morning, we were collected from our hotel and set off on our sightseeing tour. The tour took us to the tombs of three of Vietnam’s emperors from the Nguyen dynasty (the last of Vietnam’s monarchs) spanning about a hundred years: one of the first, majestic and formal; one of the last, a curious mix of oriental and Art Deco design, built in concrete; and one from the middle order, simple but beautifully landscaped. Also in the morning, we were taken to a martial arts show (cheesy and super-hyped up for us tourists) and a village where they make the conical bamboo hats you see everywhere here and incense sticks.

The burning of incense sticks is big in Vietnam. Everybody does it. You see them outside shops in the morning – an offering for a good day’s trade – taxi drivers burn them for a safe and prosperous day and even our tour guide said he burns them to ensure he has a happy group and doesn’t lose anyone. Every shop, house and hotel has it’s own shrine to which prayers are offered and in which incense sticks are burnt.

After an excellent buffet lunch, we were driven to the ancient walled citadel (apparently modelled on the forbidden city in Beijing) know as the Purple City. Our tour guide had only allowed about an hour to walk around what is a very large site, and we were concerned that this wouldn’t be nearly enough. However, when we went in, we soon realised why we wouldn’t need more time: basically, although the impressive city walls are still standing, sadly almost nothing of what was inside them remains, due largely, we were told, to intense fighting and bombing during the Vietnam War. Efforts are underway to restore (rebuild, really) the palace complex and other buildings, a project expected to take four years and for which US$61.4 has been reserved.

Next stop, before a dragon boat ride back to our hotel, was the seven story Thien Mu (celestial lady) Pagoda – Vietnam’s tallest – built in 1601 after and old lady, so the legend goes, foretold of it’s building by a lord who would come and erect a pagoda on a hill to pray for the country’s prosperity. After making her prophecy the lady promptly vanished. Upon hearing this, the then governor of Hue ordered the construction of a temple at the site. Well, you would, wouldn’t you. I recon the old lady’s, husband or son was probably a builder and she was just drumming up trade for the family firm.

Dinner that evening was at a lovely little place round the corner from our hotel, followed by a drink at our hotel: a Hue beer for me, a cocktail called Juliana Blue for guess who.

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Day 122 (Hue to Hoi An and clothes shopping)

The bus to Hoi An wasn’t due until after lunch, so while I blogged, Juli popped out for a little last minute shopping. When it came, we were amused to see that it was another of these sleeper busses, like the one we got from Laos but with a bit more leg room, which actually made it possible to stretch our legs out straight if not actually lie flat.

Half way to Hoi An, the bus stopped at a very smart service station near Da Nang, a large port city about half way down Vietnam’s South China Sea coast. Totally unlike any service station I’ve ever seen – the closest thing in the UK would be Westmorland services on the M6 – I actually thought we’d stopped at a resort hotel.

We arrived at our hotel (nice room) at about 6.00 pm and went out almost immediately to a tailor just over the road from the hotel recommended to us by the receptionist. In addition to Hoi An’s old town, the main draw to the city seems to be its many tailors and shoe makers who are able to run up any item of clothing in next to no time at very reasonable price.

Juli had come armed with two dresses she owns and particularly likes for them to copy, and quickly set to choosing fabrics and negotiating prices. I was left somewhat bewildered by the place and, despite the sales assistants’ best efforts, chose not to join in the shopping frenzy that was building around me as more and more of our truck mates came into the same tailors on their own missions. At some point during the evening, i think almost everybody on the trip passed through their doors, most of them placing orders for frocks and suits and leaving deposits. I have to confess here to a moment of weakness when both Juli and I ordered matching silk pyjamas for our main cruise. Me: black with silver piping; Juli: silver with black piping. We’re going to look like something out of a Cary Grant movie.

Orders placed and next-day fittings arranged, we left in search of dinner. Amazing how hungry clothes shopping can leave one.

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Days 123 & 124 (Hoi An and on to Nha Trang)

This morning we wandered towards Hoi An’s old town in search, initially, of breakfast. (Sometimes this blog reads like an endless quest for food interspersed with the occasional bit of sight-seeing thrown in as a buffer between meals.) While we were enjoying our omelettes, Corinne wandered by. She joined us for a fruit smoothy then asked, since we were going to be walking round the old town at the same time, if she could join us. “Of course,” we said, so the three of us bought entrance tickets and set off together.

Hoi An old town is a UNESCO listed world heritage site, and the tickets give you admission to some of the special buildings there are to see in it. These include the famous Japanese Bridge that dates from the early 1600s and is now the symbol of Hoi An, a temple, four museums, three old houses and numerous congregation halls, where Chinese expatriate residents socialized and held meetings.

After lunch (with Adam, who had somehow appeared at exactly the right time and place) and a bit more wandering, Corinne went off for her dress and suit fitting and Juli and I took a boat ride. At the helm was an old lady of at least 400. Quite possibly the very same one who disappeared from Hue after making the prediction. She rowed us up and down the river for about 45 minutes and instinctively knew which bits to steer us towards so that Juli could get the photographs she wanted.

Before long, it was time for Juli to go for her fitting, and as luck would have it, on the way there, we spotted Sandy just finishing a late lunch at a small cafe, so she and I went for a beer, while Juli went back to the hotel for a shower before returning to the tailors. When I met up with her later, I was surprised that she wasn’t burdened by bags. However, it transpired that a few alteration were necessary, but that her new frocks (and our PJs) would be ready by 3.00 pm the next day.

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When researching Vietnam for this trip, Juli read about a ruined temple complex called My Son (pronounced ‘me song’) that sounded a bit like Angkor Wat in Cambodia: similar dates, similarly ruined, similarly  situated in the jungle. Our bus to Nha Trang wasn’t until 5.00 pm, so we’d booked a tour the previous day and persuaded Sandy to come too. Our excellent guide explained that the site is collection of Hindu temples dedicated to Shiva, constructed by the kings of Champa between the 4th and 14th centuries AD for religious ceremonies and as tombs for Champa royalty.

Today the temples are mostly ruined following their abandonment when the Champa people were displaced by the Viet people in the 15th century, and damage sustained during the Vietnam War.

The temples and other buildings were constructed from unfired clay bricks held together by tree resin, which were then fired in situ. This results in the exterior of the tombs fusing together to form a smooth surface with no visible joint lines. Clever.

Back in Hoi An, Juli returned to the tailors to collect her dresses (eight of them) and our PJs and to pay. She took a photograph of the total on their calculator. I think she was a little surprised at the amount.

(Don’t worry, it’s in Vietnamese Dong: about 21,000 to the US Dollar.)

After a sit down and a bite to eat to recover from the shock, we went with our group in taxis to the bus station for the over-night bus to Nha Trang. Another sleeper bus, a third kind, this time with less leg room. Suffice it to say that it was a long and uncomfortable night.

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Next time: At the beach in Nha Trang and Mui Ne.

TTFN - N