24/12 - Evenin', 'Nam.
Sit down. Stay a while. Relax. Make yourself a cup of tea,
glass of wheat grass or whatever you like. Since the last Captain’s Blog,
around 1573 kilometres
have been covered.
For me, Vietnam is done. Finished. Gone. I have crossed the border in Cambodia, finally writing from the kind of location I desired all the way in Vietnam but never achieved because of the foul weather. I’m finally in a hammock. I’m sickly hung-over. I’m on a beach in Sinhoukville. It’s about 32 degress. The beaches have white sand and the water is clean, clear and aquamarine. My fingers will soon be curled around a cold beer, glass dripping with condensation. The sun is setting as we speak, a magnificent haze of fire separating the two halves of the horizon. You get the picture. It’s stunning.
Last time I wrote, me mate Dave and I were moving towards Hue (pronounced Hway, it reminds me of Geordies) on a sleeper bus that was also giving a lift to a handful of hitchhiking cockroaches and ants, probably off to see family, but we didn’t get a chance to chat as I killed any that I met, before we could make polite conversation. Sleeper buses took us effectively the entire coast of Vietnam, and as a method of transport they are cheap and (with sleeping pills and a bit of luck) it is not impossible to have a reasonable sleep on one.
When we got to Hue, the skies were dull, grey and without life. This somewhat curtailed our beach plans. This place used to be the capital of Vietnam and apart from the citadel in the centre of the city, with its dilapidated walls and titanic Vietnamese flag rising from the walls, there really wasn’t much to do. Dave was hankering for the sun, as was I, so we scrapped plans to buy bikes and headed further south.
For me, Vietnam is done. Finished. Gone. I have crossed the border in Cambodia, finally writing from the kind of location I desired all the way in Vietnam but never achieved because of the foul weather. I’m finally in a hammock. I’m sickly hung-over. I’m on a beach in Sinhoukville. It’s about 32 degress. The beaches have white sand and the water is clean, clear and aquamarine. My fingers will soon be curled around a cold beer, glass dripping with condensation. The sun is setting as we speak, a magnificent haze of fire separating the two halves of the horizon. You get the picture. It’s stunning.
Last time I wrote, me mate Dave and I were moving towards Hue (pronounced Hway, it reminds me of Geordies) on a sleeper bus that was also giving a lift to a handful of hitchhiking cockroaches and ants, probably off to see family, but we didn’t get a chance to chat as I killed any that I met, before we could make polite conversation. Sleeper buses took us effectively the entire coast of Vietnam, and as a method of transport they are cheap and (with sleeping pills and a bit of luck) it is not impossible to have a reasonable sleep on one.
When we got to Hue, the skies were dull, grey and without life. This somewhat curtailed our beach plans. This place used to be the capital of Vietnam and apart from the citadel in the centre of the city, with its dilapidated walls and titanic Vietnamese flag rising from the walls, there really wasn’t much to do. Dave was hankering for the sun, as was I, so we scrapped plans to buy bikes and headed further south.
Hoi An - A Dyslexic's Hanoi
_
Quy is 18. He works a few nights a week at Hot Tuna restaurant
in Hue to bring some extra cash to
help him pay for his studies. He is learning English and French and hopes to be
a tour guide, as he believes that that is the best way to make reasonable money
in Vietnam.
Failing that, his sister lives in France and works as an accountant, so he
thinks if he can learn French he may be able to go there for a job. He is part
of an up and coming generation of youths, and claims to have never been subject
to poverty. He is lucky.
Arriving in the early evening in Hoi An, we located the closest hotel. Fortunately, it turned out to be a 3-star hotel with a pool, separate double beds, all for 12 bucks a night. We took a walk to the centre of town. Beautiful French colonial buildings lined the streets, in shades of yellow and brown. The architecture was one of the most stunning things about Vietnam, and here in particular, you do feel like you are ina different era a little. Street sellers with conical hats stroll up and down, while dual baskets hang from a shoulder, connected by wood. The river flows through the centre of the city, and fishing boats meander down its length.
Dave and I stopped and ordered chicken and beef in lemongrass. It came wrapped in Banana leaf and it was quite possibly one of the most flavoursome things I’ve ever eaten, which for about $4 it is not to be sniffed at. However, it did smell tremendous. Coupled with this, we drank ‘fresh beer’, which cost us about 20 cents (16 pence) a glass.
Next day, it was suit making time. Hoi An is synonymous for its tailoring. Asking at the hotel, they recommended Sun’s Suits down the road. We shopped around a bit, looking in a few recommended places, but Sun’s was the best. A day later, and for 200 dollars down I was the proud owner of two full cashmere suits. I was tempted to get a ridiculous silk suit with dragons on the lapels but resisted, and am now looking forward to the numerous weddings next summer where I can unashamedly show them off. That evening we wondered into the town again, and at about 11 walked past a restaurant to find 6 people sat down playing a Spanish guitars and singing.
After three days, Hoi An was done, we packed our bags and got another night bus to Nha Trang. The skies were still tumultuous and grim when we got there, and although our hotel was overlooking the beach, the weather just wasn’t nice enough to swim, a vast expanse of water that could provide no entertainment for us. Nha Trang is supposed to be the nightlife hot spot of this supposedly socialist country, but the night out was a little tepid. It has a couple of bars on the beach and a whole area designated to evening fun times. Still, it wasn’t interesting enough to stay there for more than one day, so we packed our bags, and headed off for the city formerly known as Saigon, Ho Chi Minh.
Arriving in the early evening in Hoi An, we located the closest hotel. Fortunately, it turned out to be a 3-star hotel with a pool, separate double beds, all for 12 bucks a night. We took a walk to the centre of town. Beautiful French colonial buildings lined the streets, in shades of yellow and brown. The architecture was one of the most stunning things about Vietnam, and here in particular, you do feel like you are ina different era a little. Street sellers with conical hats stroll up and down, while dual baskets hang from a shoulder, connected by wood. The river flows through the centre of the city, and fishing boats meander down its length.
Dave and I stopped and ordered chicken and beef in lemongrass. It came wrapped in Banana leaf and it was quite possibly one of the most flavoursome things I’ve ever eaten, which for about $4 it is not to be sniffed at. However, it did smell tremendous. Coupled with this, we drank ‘fresh beer’, which cost us about 20 cents (16 pence) a glass.
Next day, it was suit making time. Hoi An is synonymous for its tailoring. Asking at the hotel, they recommended Sun’s Suits down the road. We shopped around a bit, looking in a few recommended places, but Sun’s was the best. A day later, and for 200 dollars down I was the proud owner of two full cashmere suits. I was tempted to get a ridiculous silk suit with dragons on the lapels but resisted, and am now looking forward to the numerous weddings next summer where I can unashamedly show them off. That evening we wondered into the town again, and at about 11 walked past a restaurant to find 6 people sat down playing a Spanish guitars and singing.
After three days, Hoi An was done, we packed our bags and got another night bus to Nha Trang. The skies were still tumultuous and grim when we got there, and although our hotel was overlooking the beach, the weather just wasn’t nice enough to swim, a vast expanse of water that could provide no entertainment for us. Nha Trang is supposed to be the nightlife hot spot of this supposedly socialist country, but the night out was a little tepid. It has a couple of bars on the beach and a whole area designated to evening fun times. Still, it wasn’t interesting enough to stay there for more than one day, so we packed our bags, and headed off for the city formerly known as Saigon, Ho Chi Minh.
Sigh gone
_
Normal
0
MicrosoftInternetExplorer4
st1\:*{behavior:url(#ieooui) }
/* Style Definitions */
table.MsoNormalTable
{mso-style-name:"Table Normal";
mso-tstyle-rowband-size:0;
mso-tstyle-colband-size:0;
mso-style-noshow:yes;
mso-style-parent:"";
mso-padding-alt:0cm 5.4pt 0cm 5.4pt;
mso-para-margin:0cm;
mso-para-margin-bottom:.0001pt;
mso-pagination:widow-orphan;
font-size:10.0pt;
font-family:"Times New Roman";
mso-fareast-font-family:"Times New Roman";}
The bus journey was a tiring 11 hours. At first, Dave and I
were told to sit at the back, on a three-berth badboy of a bed, with bag space
(which was a rarity). This was great, until about 30 minutes down the road a
fat man with a big bunch of bananas had to take the bed I was in, his ticket
claiming this seat number. This means I had to sleep in-between Dave and
Bananaman, who also smelt about as fresh as two-month old bananas.
We arrived in the morning, at sunrise. This time, the sun was actually rising as well, so excited, we went for some rustic Pho (Vietnamese Soup) and set out to find a hotel with a pool. The Internet recommended three places in the close vicinity, and after lugging our baggage to each one, we found that the Internet is full of lies. Eventually, we found one a bit further a field. At 57 dollars, it was a bit a above my budget, but desperate for a swim, we treated ourselves.
We stayed for four days in Saigon, and I think it was one of my more preferred places in Nam. The nightlife was the liveliest seen in the country. We visited the War Remnants Museum, which was one of the most interesting exhibitions I’ve been to. A whole room was dedicated to the photographs of the war, and they were incredibly moving. The Agent Orange room was shocking. Even today, people are born with disfigurements and ailments from the use of Dioxin in the Vietnamese War with the Americans. The use of it was considered a war crime, yet still no one has been held accountable.
Yuko (who I would guess was around 45) co-owns Bar’s Bar with another Japanese expatriate. She has lived in Ho Chi Minh for ‘five year’, and says that it is the only place she knows of where she can make money. Her bar is decorated ornately, and she tells Dave and me that past 10pm the majority of the small Japanese community of the city descend on the bar. Anna, a Vietnamese woman, has worked there for two years. She claims she would be our younger sister after discovering our ages, but either the years have been cruel to her, or she is bluffing. It could well be the former. She is a single mother of two and has to work everyday to be able to afford to send her children to school. She is still quite stunning (although not as much as she used to be), has a compelling air about her and in truth was the person to convince us to go in there.
We arrived in the morning, at sunrise. This time, the sun was actually rising as well, so excited, we went for some rustic Pho (Vietnamese Soup) and set out to find a hotel with a pool. The Internet recommended three places in the close vicinity, and after lugging our baggage to each one, we found that the Internet is full of lies. Eventually, we found one a bit further a field. At 57 dollars, it was a bit a above my budget, but desperate for a swim, we treated ourselves.
We stayed for four days in Saigon, and I think it was one of my more preferred places in Nam. The nightlife was the liveliest seen in the country. We visited the War Remnants Museum, which was one of the most interesting exhibitions I’ve been to. A whole room was dedicated to the photographs of the war, and they were incredibly moving. The Agent Orange room was shocking. Even today, people are born with disfigurements and ailments from the use of Dioxin in the Vietnamese War with the Americans. The use of it was considered a war crime, yet still no one has been held accountable.
Yuko (who I would guess was around 45) co-owns Bar’s Bar with another Japanese expatriate. She has lived in Ho Chi Minh for ‘five year’, and says that it is the only place she knows of where she can make money. Her bar is decorated ornately, and she tells Dave and me that past 10pm the majority of the small Japanese community of the city descend on the bar. Anna, a Vietnamese woman, has worked there for two years. She claims she would be our younger sister after discovering our ages, but either the years have been cruel to her, or she is bluffing. It could well be the former. She is a single mother of two and has to work everyday to be able to afford to send her children to school. She is still quite stunning (although not as much as she used to be), has a compelling air about her and in truth was the person to convince us to go in there.
Come 'Bodia
_ She tells us that in Vietnam
there are no Government pensions, benefits or child support. Education and
health obviously come at a cost too. She tells us she may have to quit the bar,
because times are tough there, someone is going to have to go, and she thinks
it will be her.
Later that night I lost a game of pool to a transvestite. After, we got up early and visitied the Cu Chi Tunnels, a 250km network of tunnels, fox holes and underground dwellings used in the war North of Ho Chi Minh. Here, I fired an M1 (American WWII standard rifle), and got to go into some of the tunnels, which were no more than 3 feet in height and those had been widened.
The night of the 22nd came around far too quickly and this meant it was time for me mate Dave to go. I felt bad that he didn’t get to have any beachy times, but he was a great companion to have along and now the galling prospect of having to be completely responsible for myself began to arise. So, at midnight, I got the night bus (for 18 hours – with no beds) to Sihanoukville, on the Cambodian coast.
Vietnam will improve, it will grow and it will succeed. I honestly believe that. But for now, in some places, it is degraded, seedy, and morally objectionable. Street hawkers try and offer you anything, and everything has its price. For instance, one hawker approached Dave. He said: “Bike?” To which he politely declined. After he followed up with ‘Mariwana? Boom Boom? Heroin? Kids?’ and received a no for each one that got curter and curter.
In da ‘nam the following things were sighted:
- 3 Louis Pasteur Streets
- 4 Why Not? Bars
- 18 Rats, out and about
- 2 Street Gerbils
- 4 people urinating in public in the day time.
As for Cambodia, so far the two most striking things are the beauty (whether it be weather, beach, etc) and the poverty. Christmas Eve will be spent on a remote island, with a DJ and a bar, and who knows what New Year will bring.
Merry Christmas.
Later that night I lost a game of pool to a transvestite. After, we got up early and visitied the Cu Chi Tunnels, a 250km network of tunnels, fox holes and underground dwellings used in the war North of Ho Chi Minh. Here, I fired an M1 (American WWII standard rifle), and got to go into some of the tunnels, which were no more than 3 feet in height and those had been widened.
The night of the 22nd came around far too quickly and this meant it was time for me mate Dave to go. I felt bad that he didn’t get to have any beachy times, but he was a great companion to have along and now the galling prospect of having to be completely responsible for myself began to arise. So, at midnight, I got the night bus (for 18 hours – with no beds) to Sihanoukville, on the Cambodian coast.
Vietnam will improve, it will grow and it will succeed. I honestly believe that. But for now, in some places, it is degraded, seedy, and morally objectionable. Street hawkers try and offer you anything, and everything has its price. For instance, one hawker approached Dave. He said: “Bike?” To which he politely declined. After he followed up with ‘Mariwana? Boom Boom? Heroin? Kids?’ and received a no for each one that got curter and curter.
In da ‘nam the following things were sighted:
- 3 Louis Pasteur Streets
- 4 Why Not? Bars
- 18 Rats, out and about
- 2 Street Gerbils
- 4 people urinating in public in the day time.
As for Cambodia, so far the two most striking things are the beauty (whether it be weather, beach, etc) and the poverty. Christmas Eve will be spent on a remote island, with a DJ and a bar, and who knows what New Year will bring.
Merry Christmas.