Ok, so I know it's been eons since I last wrote a blog entry and I'm really sorry. I love to tell everyone what's going on from my perspective but the past month has just been a whirlwind and the opportunity and will power have eluded me. Here is my plan to catch you all up on the last MONTH of travel through Vietnam; I will post a couple entries over the next few days, each one will be a quick summary of certain cities or events. The following is what I wrote 10 days ago and I will segue into the first of this much-too-late series. I hope you enjoy^^ -Blaise
Hey everyone!
I'm in the town of Hue, Viet Nam right now and you'll be privately humored that I am not writing this from the base of some should-be world wonder or on the beach of an island paradise. No, I'm sitting in the lobby of a less than perfect hotel while raindrops beat the earth with a fury that can only come in tropical storm season. Two nights in a row I had waded the streets through flood waters above my knees. It rained so hard that I even sprang for a poncho! I have been scoffing at rain wear and had set my mind on toughing it out without any. That was at least until I got here, where there has literally been maybe an hour in the past few days when the rain hasn't been falling.
It has been nearly a month since my last post and tones of things have happened though for spacial considerations I'll try to keep this moderate in length. If you've been in personal contact with me you might know that today, the 19th of October, we should be in Laos. Due to the fact that Vietnam is enormously long we've had to extend our visas for an extra 15 days so from now until then we will be whisking ourselves to the remaining places we want to see and then finally to Hanoi. From Hanoi we are planning on biking straight to Laos where we'll be completing the most intense leg our trip through this rugged though I'm told beautiful country.
When I left you in Phu Quoc, our next step was to bike through the Mekong Delta and make our way to Saigon. The logical (and only) choice from the Island was to grab a ferry to the coastal town of Rach Gia where we would start our biking, but as usual it was nowhere this easy. We had asked twice which pier to go to and had been naive enough to assume that twice was enough. We were diligent in dragging our eternally tired bodies from our bunks before sunrise to ensure we got there on time. We ploughed through the 15km ride to the other side of the Island, we stuffed some eggs into our mouths, we bargained for our bike fees, and had even piled our sorry selves into the vessel before we were untimely informed we had arrived at... the wrong pier. Needless to say we were frustrated but I maintain that our state of semi-consciousness held any rash actions at bay until we were safely on our way toward the 'right' pier. The problem here was that our tickets were now as useful as teats on a bull, and we would have to buy more to use the next boat. A surmountable roadblock for sure, though the 5 hour wait time until said boat arrived was a little more irritating . We would survive, after all, we really have no place to be but were were worried about the time on our visas. I used the 5 hours to attempt sleep and dream of slaughtering the 10 coq's that lay caged 5 feet away. Incessantly screeching their infuriating calls of anguish that haunt my sleep to this day. Save for a flash rainstorm that soaked us to the bone before our overly air conditioned pneumonia inducing ride to Rach Gia, it was pretty good. They even kiboshed the loud abrasive Vietnamese game shows and singing DVDs that are standard around the country in exchange for SILENT Chaplain flicks.
When I left you in Phu Quoc, our next step was to bike through the Mekong Delta and make our way to Saigon. The logical (and only) choice from the Island was to grab a ferry to the coastal town of Rach Gia where we would start our biking, but as usual it was nowhere this easy. We had asked twice which pier to go to and had been naive enough to assume that twice was enough. We were diligent in dragging our eternally tired bodies from our bunks before sunrise to ensure we got there on time. We ploughed through the 15km ride to the other side of the Island, we stuffed some eggs into our mouths, we bargained for our bike fees, and had even piled our sorry selves into the vessel before we were untimely informed we had arrived at... the wrong pier. Needless to say we were frustrated but I maintain that our state of semi-consciousness held any rash actions at bay until we were safely on our way toward the 'right' pier. The problem here was that our tickets were now as useful as teats on a bull, and we would have to buy more to use the next boat. A surmountable roadblock for sure, though the 5 hour wait time until said boat arrived was a little more irritating . We would survive, after all, we really have no place to be but were were worried about the time on our visas. I used the 5 hours to attempt sleep and dream of slaughtering the 10 coq's that lay caged 5 feet away. Incessantly screeching their infuriating calls of anguish that haunt my sleep to this day. Save for a flash rainstorm that soaked us to the bone before our overly air conditioned pneumonia inducing ride to Rach Gia, it was pretty good. They even kiboshed the loud abrasive Vietnamese game shows and singing DVDs that are standard around the country in exchange for SILENT Chaplain flicks.
From Rach Gia we headed to Vi Thanh and then onto Can Tho. This was all through the Delta which was something I'll never forget. We swerved left and right along the 'road' through throngs of drying rice and grain, passed over dozens of shabby bridges and had a 2 word conversation with nearly everyone we passed. The road varied from 3 to 6 feet wide and the surrounding lifestyles of the river people were nothing if not spectacular.
The farmers days seem to be spent along the process of plantation to harvest, all the while surrounded by merchants piled together in a scene I can only describe as post-apocalyptic disarray. The rogue roosters, the featherless hens, the circles of hunched over gamblers throwing cards down beside a burning barrel...it was intense. They sell nearly everything and anything you can think of from the day to day necessities to monstrously ugly plastic pieces in the form of nothing. That last description was terrible but I honestly don't know what over half of this crap was. I could deduce no useful purpose for most of it, and how they can carve out a living by selling bicycle streamers, water buckets and plastic trinkets (in an absolute non-tourist area) is beyond me. Perhaps if they were the lucky owner of the only shop around it would be possible, but the 50,000 vendors must have cut-throat competition.
We arrived in Can Tho just as I got a flat tire. Though I've changed one or two this trip, this was my first. After rolling possible causes around in my head I've come to the conclusion that one of the stray screws shoddily fastening the corrugated steel to the bridges through the Mekong was the most likely culprit. We spent our time here along a river and floating market, having some Can Tho specialties along with some snake wine and good conversation.
We took a small boat barely large enough for the five of us to see the river market and get a little tour of the river. The last part wasn't really our idea but we just ended up moving along at a snails pace through the maze of waterways for much longer than necessary.
When Can Tho had run its course on us, we headed to the bus station to grab a shuttle to Saigon. We had been told that entering HCMC by bicycle was stupid and dangerous so with that nice piece of advice we bused it to the commerce capital of 'Nam. This was only half redundant because the bus station we were dropped off at was still not really inside Saigon but we saved several days riding and avoided the rain that poured down the whole time. We also got to experience the real Saigon traffic which I found to be entertaining and often times hilarious but if you were frustrated to begin with I can see how it would be a living hell. Because it had been raining so hard when we arrived, we grabbed the first hotel we could find which was effectively a per hour kindof establishment but served our needs well enough. After some delicious Pho (with extra protein...(bugs), I decided to go for a walk while my travel buddies went in search of pastries. I was looking for an internet cafe, which proved to be about a 35mins walk away through flooded streets and shady characters. I've never been approached by so many pimps before in my life, not even in Bangkok and the women they were peddling were of every walk of life. Somehow my insistent "No" which I now know as Không, my shaking head and mimed 'X' didn't quite get the point across to these dudes. They followed me for awhile and then returned to the shadows of their alleyway. I was intending on hitting up an ATM before I went home but the number of dark figures lurking around the rainy night changed my mind. I would wait for tomorrow.
The following day we biked down to the hotel/backpacker (disgusting tourist ghetto as Anderson and now all of us refer to it) area of Pham Ngu Lao. This area is exactly how you would imagine a tourist ghetto to look, hundreds of vendors, boutiques, panhandlers and restaurants. The restaurants are only outnumbered by the travel agents and moto drivers who will gladly take you wherever you want to go, arrange for dirty nighttime rendezvous or enable any or all of your vices.
In this bustling city we made arrangements for a total bike overhaul at Golden Rose Bike Shop. We all picked up new sets of Brake pads for our chariots as we were effectively brake less at this point. The guys at the shop fixed us up really well with full bike tune-ups and a new derailleur cable housing for me. The ride from the shop was smooth as Vietnamese silk and a good way to see some of the city.
We spent our time in Saigon by seeing some museums and taking a day trip to the Cao Dai Holy See and to the Cu Chi tunnels about 170kms northwest of the city.
The Cao Dai religion is quite special. At least I felt a kind of warmth flood through me when the structure and surroundings sank in. It might have been the splendor of Cao Dai mish-mashing eastern and western religions together, or it might have been a nostalgic throw back to my younger years of the country fair and carnival lights. The ornate sculptures and bold colours depicting dragons and mystical creatures of all shapes and sizes gave the whole place a surreal feel. More than once an "are you kidding me?" thought flew through my lobes as I took it all in. The walls, the pillars, the giant white hats and even the impatient man with a feather duster guarding a would be look-out tower were hilariously outfitted. For a short time we were allowed to observe the prayer session and service at noon where the robed ushers coralled us upstairs to the upper balconies for a birds eye view of the chanting and bowing.
From here we took of in our under-cooled over-crowded van-bus to the Cu chi tunnels. This was what I signed up for. Over 250kms of underground tunnel systems that the U.S. could not destroy, control or even locate for the most part.
The tour took us through the jungle to many made-up camps to show us daily life for the soldiers and families that lived here.
'Termite' mounds that were actually air holes, a collection of man traps that make the 'Saw' series look like an afternoon special.
We were 'allowed' (forced) to try the air-conditioned retrofitted tunnels for ourselves. They were supposedly enlarged for foreigner tourists and had a lighting system built in. All of these perks were dubious lies on the part of our guide. Not that I cared at that point, I wanted to try!
The tunnels sucked.
When Can Tho had run its course on us, we headed to the bus station to grab a shuttle to Saigon. We had been told that entering HCMC by bicycle was stupid and dangerous so with that nice piece of advice we bused it to the commerce capital of 'Nam. This was only half redundant because the bus station we were dropped off at was still not really inside Saigon but we saved several days riding and avoided the rain that poured down the whole time. We also got to experience the real Saigon traffic which I found to be entertaining and often times hilarious but if you were frustrated to begin with I can see how it would be a living hell. Because it had been raining so hard when we arrived, we grabbed the first hotel we could find which was effectively a per hour kindof establishment but served our needs well enough. After some delicious Pho (with extra protein...(bugs), I decided to go for a walk while my travel buddies went in search of pastries. I was looking for an internet cafe, which proved to be about a 35mins walk away through flooded streets and shady characters. I've never been approached by so many pimps before in my life, not even in Bangkok and the women they were peddling were of every walk of life. Somehow my insistent "No" which I now know as Không, my shaking head and mimed 'X' didn't quite get the point across to these dudes. They followed me for awhile and then returned to the shadows of their alleyway. I was intending on hitting up an ATM before I went home but the number of dark figures lurking around the rainy night changed my mind. I would wait for tomorrow.
The following day we biked down to the hotel/backpacker (disgusting tourist ghetto as Anderson and now all of us refer to it) area of Pham Ngu Lao. This area is exactly how you would imagine a tourist ghetto to look, hundreds of vendors, boutiques, panhandlers and restaurants. The restaurants are only outnumbered by the travel agents and moto drivers who will gladly take you wherever you want to go, arrange for dirty nighttime rendezvous or enable any or all of your vices.
In this bustling city we made arrangements for a total bike overhaul at Golden Rose Bike Shop. We all picked up new sets of Brake pads for our chariots as we were effectively brake less at this point. The guys at the shop fixed us up really well with full bike tune-ups and a new derailleur cable housing for me. The ride from the shop was smooth as Vietnamese silk and a good way to see some of the city.
We spent our time in Saigon by seeing some museums and taking a day trip to the Cao Dai Holy See and to the Cu Chi tunnels about 170kms northwest of the city.
The Cao Dai religion is quite special. At least I felt a kind of warmth flood through me when the structure and surroundings sank in. It might have been the splendor of Cao Dai mish-mashing eastern and western religions together, or it might have been a nostalgic throw back to my younger years of the country fair and carnival lights. The ornate sculptures and bold colours depicting dragons and mystical creatures of all shapes and sizes gave the whole place a surreal feel. More than once an "are you kidding me?" thought flew through my lobes as I took it all in. The walls, the pillars, the giant white hats and even the impatient man with a feather duster guarding a would be look-out tower were hilariously outfitted. For a short time we were allowed to observe the prayer session and service at noon where the robed ushers coralled us upstairs to the upper balconies for a birds eye view of the chanting and bowing.
From here we took of in our under-cooled over-crowded van-bus to the Cu chi tunnels. This was what I signed up for. Over 250kms of underground tunnel systems that the U.S. could not destroy, control or even locate for the most part.
The tour took us through the jungle to many made-up camps to show us daily life for the soldiers and families that lived here.
'Termite' mounds that were actually air holes, a collection of man traps that make the 'Saw' series look like an afternoon special.
We were 'allowed' (forced) to try the air-conditioned retrofitted tunnels for ourselves. They were supposedly enlarged for foreigner tourists and had a lighting system built in. All of these perks were dubious lies on the part of our guide. Not that I cared at that point, I wanted to try!
The tunnels sucked.
The sounds of the nearby shooting range gave us a feelings of would be war time but also insight into what the families and soldiers who lived in these tunnels felt like.
When we exited the tunnel we saw a few more exhibits and the hit up the shooting range where I was robbed of a free t-shirt. I opted to try out a left-over M16 assault rifle for a minimal fee and was assured "You hit target you win". I may not be a sharpshooter but I'm no spring chicken to weapons and they hold a close spot in my heart, right beside croc skin accessories. The firearm was louder than I expected but held hardly any recoil and I was successful in annihilating my wooden animal. I even have it on video tape, but the man was certain I had missed and should leave the range now. 'Sigh', life as a whitey turns sour again ;)
After some more shopping and before we left Saigon I took another solo trip to another croc farm on the outskirts of town. Same ol' Same ol' I was told, and they were right but I can never turn down a crocodile farm / boutique.
We also visited the War Remnants Museum (previously called the American War Crimes Museum) which gave a ghastly look into the chemical warfare of America and it's 'puppets', the continual negative effect of Agent Orange and many wartime artifacts.
It was a sobering trip but lightened by our return journey on cyclos.
Tune in next time for more on "What is that Blaise dude doing?"^^
Till then, Keep on Keepin' On.
Blaise
