I have been away from “home” for six months now. But considering the fact that I don’t have a home at the moment (in the literal sense) just makes me feel more ‘at home’ in the world. I seriously can’t believe I’ve been traveling alone for this much time, but I’ve rarely been or felt “alone.” I’ve met so many different and interesting people—other travelers, locals, tour guides, and had so many different and wonderful experiences. Just like in “real life,” I still have to remember to take time to “stop and smell the roses.” Even on this amazing journey it’s still easy to get caught up in the everyday, mundane things and little issues—‘it’s too hot, my suitcase won’t close, there are bugs in my room, blah, blah, blah.’ But then there are the sweet moments of bliss that snap me back into my reality where I just close my eyes and grin.

Yesterday my second Intrepid Travel Tour arrived in the small riverside town of Chau Doc, Vietnam, perched right on the banks of the mighty Mekong River. Tomorrow we will boat down the river and across the border into Cambodia (remember when we called it Kampuchea? The Khmers still do) and straight up the river into the capital, Phnom Penh.

Our final evening in ‘Nam, nine of us got on the backs of some local guys’ motorcycles and got a city tour for a couple of hours as the sun went down on the dusty tiny town. It was great to not be ‘pedaling’ for a change and have the wind in my hair cooling me off as the air here is heavy and hot. We zoomed up the hilltops to a mountain overlook above the town, all the while, kids still calling out ‘hello’ while I got to practice my few Vietnamese words for the very last time (at least for now).

• Xin Chao: Hello
• Chao Em: Hello (to younger kids or girls)
• Chao Anh Hello (to men)
• Chao Chee (to elder women)
• Cam Un: Thank You
• Han Gup Lai: See you Later
• Mot, Hai, Ba, YO!: One, two, three, Cheers!

At the top we had cold beers and chilled out in some hammocks strung out under a thatched roof while the red hazy sun slipped into the smog and below the horizon. This was one of those moments. It was nearly impossible to not notice how good I have it right now.

We hopped back on our motorbikes and whizzed back to town. I made my driver laugh and sing along with me as I butchered my newly learned rendition of the local anthem: “Vietnam, Ho Chi Minh…”

All the way I was laughing and grinning while I thought back on all the great times I had in this sometimes chaotic, sometimes peaceful yin and yang of a country. Han gup lai, Vietnam (See you again…).

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3. “Wait a minute Mr. Postman…”

With 8 million people in the city, and 3.5 million motorbikes, I assumed Saigon would greet me as loudly and brashly as Hanoi had. But, I actually quite liked it there. It is a bit more modern than Hanoi with taller, newer buildings and more upscale shopping centers. Plus it’s more spread out and, although it’s still bustling and buzzing with people and motorcycles, there seems to be wider, more open sidewalks and green space, allowing for a bit of a breather here and there.

I did a lot of my favorite tourist activity—random strolling around. It was sweltering hot and averaged in the 100s everyday. One of the few tourist sights I visited in Ho Chi Minh City was the War Remnants Museum. The Vietnam War (also known as the Vietnamese Revolution, the Second Indochina War and, in contemporary Vietnam, as the ‘American War’) was a military conflict in present day Vietnam occurring from 1959 to April 30, 1975. It was a successful effort by the Communist Democratic Republic of Vietnam (DRV or North Vietnam) led by Ho Chi Minh and the indigenous National Front for the Liberation of South Vietnam, (also known as the Việt Cộng, or more informally by the American troops as the “Charlie”, “VC” or “Cong”) to impose on Vietnam a communist system, defeating the South Vietnamese Republic of Vietnam (RVN). To a degree, the Vietnam War was a “proxy war” between the U.S. and its Western allies against the Soviet Union and the People’s Republic of China. Nearly 60, 000 American troops died in battle whereas approximately one million Vietnamese troops and two to four million civilians were killed. Another three million Vietnamese were affected by Agent Orange. I had just been born during the last few years of the war and honestly do not recall learning much about it in school.

Much of the museum in Saigon was dedicated to exhibits of photography showing the overall horrors and atrocities of war. Besides the military and civilian casualties, the war claimed more journalists and photographers than ever before. Well, until now. The Iraq war has since surpassed this statistic claiming the most journalists. Of course, since the museum is here in Vietnam, it’s from their perspective, but there’s no denying the enormous amounts of casualties and suffering that the Vietnamese people endured during these years. I found it quite moving. There are photos of torture, photos of the horrible aftermath of chemical warfare—Agent Orange and dioxins that were used by the Americans that caused severe health issues then and to future generations with deformations of newborns from mothers who were affected, and photos of general death and destruction.

At home in the US, a generation of Americans struggled to absorb the lessons of military intervention without clear motives or objectives. Sound familiar? Between 1965 and 1973 the United States spent $120 billion on the war in Vietnam. The war seemed to demonstrate that no power, not even a superpower, has unlimited strength and resources. But perhaps most significantly, the Vietnam War illustrated that political will, as much as material might, is a decisive factor in the outcome of conflicts.

There were also photos of demonstrations from around the world against the war including several from the US. It was good to see some recent photos of US war veterans visiting Vietnam and some speaking out on behalf of Vietnamese victims of Agent Orange. Seeing it all was quite heavy and hard to look at. Historical events like this always beg the question: How could all this death and sadness hope to bring about peace? From the Vietnam War and now to the War in Iraq, it all seems eerily similar. Perhaps many years from now I will find myself in an Iraq War Memorial museum seeing the same senseless images of war.

Related posts:

1. ‘Petal’ Power
2. Happy Tree, Happy Rock
3. Halfway Point…or is it?

After a night of hilarious Karaoke with our whole group and even our truck drivers, we all descended from the Central Highlands for our final ride of the trip. It was kind of bittersweet. I remembered back before the trip started and during some of the first few rides, I was second guessing my decision to do this two week adventure as I huffed and puffed my way across the countryside. Some days the heat was utterly unbearable and the hills were too many and too steep for my legs and lungs. Our final day we rode about 60 kilometers down through the lush green mountainsides of coffee and tea crops. The first part was my favorite—all downhill and super fast. The last 30 kilometers or so was what our guide called “undulating” which meant some up hills and some downhills. It would be ‘same same, but different.’ This is a popular phrase in Vietnam. It basically means ‘similar’ and you hear it all the time. There are even t-shirts here printed with the phrase.

I let most of the group pass me and got into my own rhythm and loved it, hills and all. I was finally hitting my stride and it was our last day. Or maybe psychologically, I knew it was our last day so it was just easier. But ‘same same’ as on previous days, just when I would start to wither from exhaustion and heat with sweat pouring into and stinging my eyes, local kids would be smiling and waving at me as I rode past, just in time to take my mind off any exhaustion I was feeling. Now, I welcomed the dust in my face, horrible exhaust fumes up my nose, and horns honking in my ears. It was all a part of this amazing country—alive, growing and vibrant. I had trouble not smiling most of the time that I was riding a problem because of bugs flying into my mouth. Nearly all the people we met along the journey were extremely poor, but extremely happy and friendly. As I’ve said before, most tours are good or bad depending on the people. And this one proved that once again. Not only were most of the girls fun and friendly, it was the truck driver, our bus driver, Loi, our wonderful leader, Phuc, and the people of Vietnam that made it special. They all made the trip so good for us and we were all in it together. We rode together, we drank together, ate together, took mud baths together, and sang together.

Mot, Hai, Ba….Yooooo! (One, Two, Three, Cheers!!!)

Related posts:

1. ‘Petal’ Power
2. Tour du Vietnam
3. Halfway Point…or is it?

During my two week cycle trip not only did I improve my cycling skills and stamina, I also began to master the art of peeing outdoors (enjoy that image) and using the infamous Asian “squat toilets.” Some of these are in a stall just like at home except instead of a toilet bowl, there is just a hole and porcelain bowl shape in the floor. So like the name says you have to squat over it. Of course, I had to do this while balancing as to not touch anything around me plus keep my shorts out of the line of fire and avoid getting any splatter on my shoes or ankles. It actually wasn’t so bad as long as you brought toilet paper in with you and also tried to hold your breath because the rank, stale smell of urine was a bit unpleasant (that’s an understatement). The even more basic ‘latrines’ we’d come across consisted of a tile trough in the floor with raised blocks for your feet. There were literally pairs of blocks in a row where several bladder-full women could squat together and have a lovely little pee. Of course, when we came upon this we went one at a time. Not only is it unpleasant getting splattered with your ‘own,’ you certainly don’t want someone else’s getting on you!

It’s very common in Vietnam and other parts of Asia for people to just pull alongside the road and have a little bathroom break. Men usually just turn their backs to the street, while the women do usually go behind a tree or bush. The Intrepid tour leaders called these “happy trees, happy bush, or happy rock.” Once we stopped on a coffee plantation—in which it was “happy coffee bush.” Coffee trees were good because they are a bit taller and good for a little private moment. I much preferred the ‘happy tree’ to the squat toilet—at least you could breathe in the fresh air and the bottoms of your shoes weren’t standing is urine. You can go take a bathroom now if you need to.

Also during the tour we had some varied and interesting types of accommodations. Mostly along the way we stayed in quite nice two and three star hotels. A few had pools and lush gardens and were quite comfortable. One night we slept in what they call ‘soft sleepers’ on an overnight train. We had four bunks in one train car. This wasn’t too bad either—except for me being a light sleeper so I didn’t get much rest as we rocked back and forth down the tracks through the Vietnam countryside and over the former DMZ (demillatirized zone) that split North and South Vietnam during the war. As some of us walked the length of the train to find the bar car and get a drink we realized that much of the train carried Vietnamese folks traveling to and fro. Many didn’t upgrade to a sleeper and were just lounging about in the regular seat cars. Although one woman had brought her floor mat and was sprawled out on the floor by her seat.

For a nice bit of our bike journey we got ‘off the beaten path’ and went up into the Central Highlands to a few smaller towns up in the mountains. Just a few years ago there were some uprisings in these areas and tourists were actually forbidden to go there. It seems some foreigners were convincing some of the locals to be anti-communist—something the government obviously doesn’t like. But there have been no problems in recent years. Vietnam’s economy is growing, but much of the country is still very poor. In fact, the average Vietnamese person only makes $300 US Dollars a year…yes, I said ‘a year.’ Here they are trying to create jobs any way they can. At many toll booths we drove through there was one man to purchase the ticket from, then our bus would drive to a few feet to another booth where a man would rip our ticket, and finally we would drive through the toll gate where a third guy would let us through.

In Kon Tum, we slept at the Dakbla Hotel, a government run establishment. Like a lot of Communist buildings, it looked like something out of the fifties. Even the room interiors looked as if they hadn’t been redone since 1962. I jokingly asked the other girls if they noticed all the spy cameras in our rooms.

In our second mountain town, Buon Ma Thuot, we did a ‘homestay.’ We all slept on mosquito net covered mattresses on the floor of a stilt house belonging to a family hill tribe people. The houses were originally built on stilts in some areas to avoid flooding and here to avoid unwelcome animal guests. Of course now under most houses were each family’s dinners: pigs, roosters, and dogs milled about. Up in these mountain towns there are some ethnic minority villages where people who speak a different dialect and dress in more traditional clothing. This night it felt like we were in a cabin for sleep away camp. We had dinner on the floor on mats and then partook in the local drink—straw wine. Suffice it to say, we all had a lot of fun…and then it got a bit crazy. Loi, the bus driver, pulled out some crazy vibrating device that he literally strapped to the back of his hand and proceeded to give all the sore and tired girls neck and shoulder massages! It looked like something he’d made in his home garage out of spare parts. The whole scene of drunk girls sucking down wine with straws getting massages probably looked a bit crazy and naughty, but it sure felt good and was all innocent fun…although Loi may have been having his own fantasies. But we didn’t care—a girl loves a good massage! We were all a bit tipsy and ended up laughing and have sing-alongs until the wee hours. Pretty fun, but probably not exactly the true traditional hill tribe experience.

After a few nights ‘roughing’ it, we cycled back down from the mountains into the touristy beach town of Nha Trang. This is Vietnam’s top spot for sun and sand and I imagine in ten years from now, much of the coast will be inching its way toward becoming another overrun tourist area. We had a fun rest in Nha Trang which started with a visit to the local hot springs and mud baths. When we first arrived, a man with a pointer stood by a big board of photos of the different pools we could go into and demonstrated the order of ‘dipping.’ It seemed like a 1950s training video and was quite funny. We opted for the shared hot pools. First it was into the outdoor showers for a quick rinse, then about six of us sat down in small hot tubs that were then pumped full of smelly, oozy, chocolate milk looking mud. There were buckets that you could fill with the brown stuff and pour over your back…of course we took advantage of this to dump loads of mud onto each other’s heads. It was quite fun actually. Next we rinsed off the mud—it got in places I didn’t even know existed, well, I guess I knew they existed, but have never had to rinse mud out of them—and went through a series of water sprays and waterfalls. Then it was into the hot pools for a bit of a soak. Good stuff.

The next day, was unfortunately the coolest and rainiest we’d had in awhile. We went out into the water for a boat ride along the bay and an afternoon for relaxing and sun-worshipping. We enjoyed a tasty seafood spread on the boat and relaxed on lounge chairs under thatched roofs all afternoon. The best part? Little Vietnamese ladies were going around giving manicures, pedicures and massages right at your chair. I pampered myself with a lovely head, neck, and back massage and a pedicure—all for the cost of $5! I could get used to this.

Before biking down south towards Saigon, we made one more dash up to the mountains and the fabulous town of Dalat. This was one of my favorite cities on the journey. It felt almost like a ski resort town

We stayed in an old French Villa type hotel—which was really quaint and quiet and set back atop a hill. We cycled through town for a tour and then had some free time just to wander around. We played some badminton in the front yard and after nearly two weeks together really felt kind of like a family.

That night, after another great and cheap dinner, the whole gang (including the truck drivers) went out to Karaoke! It was one of the places where you get your own room. We piled into a smoky, stale room with big black leather couches and pored through the songbooks of half Vietnamese and half English tunes. The song selection wasn’t the greatest and was a bit dated, but we had the best time belting out songs like ABBA’s “Fernando,” the Bee Gees “How Deep is your Love,” and I even got up to do our other national anthem: “Hotel California.” By the end we were all up dancing and one of the best parts was how much fun the drivers were having dancing with all the girls. This trip was such fun, but was winding down and about to come to an end.

Related posts:

1. Halfway Point…or is it?
2. Tour du Vietnam
3. War is Hell

Our first day on our bikes, we took them for a spin to brave the chaotic traffic of Hanoi. It was pretty intense riding alongside dozens of motor bikes and cars and other bicycles. Plus the inhaling of constant exhaust fumes kinda makes you feel like you’ve smoked a pack of cigarettes by the end. We were ready to get out into the countryside and explore.

Our first day of real cycling we cycled 37 K to Cuc Phuong, Vietnam’s first National Park. Inside the park we visited the Endangered Primate Rescue Center. The center, run by German biologists and local Vietnamese, rescues and cares for primates that are often hunted and traded for eventual medicinal ingredients. There are several different species cared for here including the long-armed Gibbon, the long-tailed Langur monkey, and Lorises—smaller nocturnal primates. THey are eventually working on reintroducing them into the wild. For now they are reintroduced to a semi wild area near the park.

After a tiring first day of riding, we then did a ‘mini-trek’—up about one thousand steps in the forest…quite possibly harder than the cycling trip we are on. For our first day, this was a bit much for me. I was exhausted! Plus I would probably now have sore quads and hamstrings from all this stair climbing which wasn’t good for me considering about 13 more days of riding were ahead.

After a fun big shared dinner of fish and chicken and rice and veg outside, we slept amidst the sounds of the forest that night in the national park. It was bare minimum lodging—we were in a cabin with mosquito nets, cold showers, and electricity was only on from 6p-10p. But this wasn’t that big a deal considering we were all pooped and could hardly keep our eyes open after ten o’clock anyway.

Our third day was a rain and mudfest into the town called Hoa Lu and possibly my favorite ride of the trip. It drizzled all day and the roads were dirty so when you are going fast through puddles there was no helping the Jackson Pollack effect of mud splatter all over your body. Despite the free mud wraps (you’d pay about $100 for a spa treatment like that in Chicago), we rode about 70K through some of the most charming and tiny stonewalled villages and mysterious misty mountain towns. For lunch some of us tried a ‘hot pot’ goat soup…somewhat tasty, but a little gamey for me. After replenishing our energy we rode further into the city of Ninh Binh where good tour planning allowed us to check into day rooms at a local hotel to shower and relax with a beer on the rooftop bar before hopping on the overnight train to the town of Hue.

Hue was a charming cultural town of pagodas, temples, and a citadel. We did an easier cycle tour around the city checking out the sights. The following day we tackled a few major hills. The first one was a four kilometer uphill mountain climb. It was super hot and humid out and the salty sweat was dripping into my eyes. I stopped mid-way for a breather and some water. I was happy and proud to reach the top as this was probably the biggest hill I’d ever climbed. But it was only the beginning. After a fun beach lunch and refreshing dip in the ocean we were faced with the infamous Hai Van Pass, an eleven kilometer ten percent grade uphill climb of windy road and switchbacks. I use the term ‘we’ loosely, since I and two other gals skipped the bike ride up and caught a ride with Loi on the bus. It just didn’t look fun to me and a bit too intense for my leg muscles.

The other tough mountain bike trained girls road up the winding mountain pass road. It took them about an hour to an hour and a half. For many it wasn’t the climb, but more the heat that made if difficult. When I did my hill that took about 20 minutes for me and I felt proud of myself and called it a day. Coming from the Chicago ‘flatlands’ I have no training with hills and pretty much despise them. But I will say that after several days of riding all day, I was certainly getting better. Back at home I’ve done long rides (about 70K or 40 miles), but never this intensely or consecutively as this.

It was fun stopping along the side of the road to take photographs and cheer on the others as they climbed the mountain pass. It was like we were part of a triathalon or something. But at the top instead of being greeted by fans, we were faced with eager salesladies that I’m pretty sure managed to sell every one of us a bead bracelet or two. They know all the tactics that probably take four years of business school: they get to know their client first, asking our names and where we are from, they develop a relationship with us and then go in for the kill and then you feel too guilty to say ‘no’ since they invested all this time with you. But of course, if that doesn’t work with them, they always resort to more guilt-inducing tactics.

“Buy from me.”

“No, thank-you.”

“Please buy from me, I Talk to you, Lisa.”

“No, thank-you.

“Please, I need money for my baby.”

“OK, how much?”

“30,000 dong”

After some bartering, I’d pay about $1.20 for a bracelet. It’s so cheap and goes a long way for these ladies, it just seems silly to have even said ‘no’ in the first place. But I guess it’s all part of the game. Plus they basically follow you around until you buy something anyway.

The wonderful pay off of the pass was heading down the eleven kilometers on the other side. We hit speeds of close to 30 mph which is pretty fast on a bike and cruised down the mountain with a wonderful cooling breeze in our faces. This time I was one of the first to the bottom….love the speed.

Now, on our way to Hoi An, we cruised past the infamous China Beach where U.S. soldiers went for a little ‘R & R’ during the Vietnam War (or American War as they call it here—makes sense, I guess).

Inevitably I always ended in the back of the herd, many times because I would stop and take photos while many of the girls raced on by, but mostly because I just wasn’t as fast as them and didn’t care to try to be–that’s not why I was doing this ride. Many of these girls were on a mission to be number one. Whereas I was on a mission to just get good exercise and see the country from this unique perspective. Another thing that inevitably slowed me down were these amazingly adorable kids that we would pass on the way. As we cruised by, eager kids greeted us with excited ‘hellos’ every few yards the entire way. I’ve never seen such innocent smiles as the kids would run out of their homes and drop anything and everything just to be able see us and to shout their one English word. I’ve never heard so many “hellos” shouted at me in my entire life. Plus from all the cyclists that go this route over the years they have learned to do hand slaps. I would slow down and give them a “high five” as I whizzed by. And then you would hear their chuckles as you continued down the road to the next group of excited kids. These are mostly incredibly poor kids, that couldn’t look happier. It always made me smile to see them, even if bugs were getting in my teeth. And I did my best to wave and say hello to each one knowing it made their day.

Related posts:

1. ‘Petal’ Power
2. Same Same, But Different
3. Halfway Point…or is it?

Originally I was going to name this entry “Pedal Power” since it is about my fourteen day cycling tour of Vietnam. But when I joined the group and saw that all ten of my co-riders were women, I thought it was appropriate to change the name.

We were told that it is the first time in Intrepid Travel’s history that a bike tour group is all women—and it had to be my group! At first, I was a bit disappointed because I’ve never been one for girly gossip or constantly talking about how to find a ‘husband.’ Too much estrogen can get a bit much and it’s nice to have a mix with some ‘maleness’ thrown in. But it turned out to be a really interesting and fun group of gals plus some of these chicks are tough cyclists who would still beat the bicycle shorts off most men. Not only is it all women, eight of the girls are from Australia, two from England, and then there’s me, the unsurprisingly only American. It’s a tad bland of a group as far as ‘internationalism’ goes. We are nearly all thirty-something English speakers who look as white as Wonder bread. We do have some diverse occupations, though, from a fashion designer to a radiologist, to an architect to some gals who work in mining. Mostly it’s good fun and I even scored my own room without having to pay a single supplement.

To give you just a brief understanding of the tour mechanics…here is the nitty gritty:

The tour itself started in Hanoi, the capital of the Socialist Republic of Vietnam, in the north and will end in Ho Chi Minh City (Saigon) in the south. It’s a long but narrow country of 83 million people and we are seeing a lot of it firsthand from right over the handle bars.

We are assisted by two vehicles. A bus rides in front of us and carries all our bags and suitcases plus an ongoing supply of bottled water, fresh fruit, and, of course, snacks like the international Oreo cookie (we are all women, afterall!). A truck follows us behind and carries the bikes when we are not riding. Also, if you are riding along and just get tuckered out you can sit by the side of the road and wait for the truck to come along and throw your bike in the back and hop on for a lift and a much needed rest. We always had a local tour guide riding in the front and the tour leader would follow behind. Phuc Le (pronounced f-o-o-k, very close to another word), is our tour leader and has been with Intrepid just six months. He organizes everything for us and makes our daily lives pretty easy and stress-free. We don’t need to do much thinking each day—just riding. It’s quite nice, especially for me after traveling now for nearly six months; it’s nice to give my ‘planning’ brain a rest. He takes care of where we ride, what we eat, and where we sleep. He is from Hanoi, but went to University in Sydney where he studied English and management, so he is a bit more “westernized” than some other Vietnamese and really easy to understand and very cool and laid back. On our first day, we found out it was his first time doing this cycling tour for the Intrepid Company. My initial reaction was regret because I thought it would be better to have a seasoned veteran. But Phuc turned out to be the best we could have hoped for. He was a bit quiet and seemed shy at first, but he has a nice easy going leadership way about him. He’s in charge and ‘takes care of business’, but in a very low key way and tries to make the experience, albeit physical, as relaxing as possible and always with a smile on his face. I really appreciated this along the way. He doesn’t rush anyone, but we still adhere to a daily schedule. It’s a tough balance on tours to keep to the schedule but also not have your tourists feeling pressured and rushed. He dances along this line beautifully. Plus if any of us ever needed anything at all he was on the case immediately. I got to know him a bit since he would ride in the back and I often found myself back there with him.

Each day starts around 7am with a breakfast and then we either hop on our bikes or get on the bus for awhile until we find the spot where we start riding. We average about 50 Kilometers (30 miles) a day, but some days have done as much as 80 (50 miles) or as few as 30 (18.6 miles). Every 15K or so, we stop for a fifteen minute break for some fresh fruit and cold water. Loi, the bus driver, is another good one. As soon as we ride up, he’s greeting us with a “well done!” Then he’s putting a much needed fresh bottle of cold water in our hands plus has already sliced up some of the tastiest fresh fruit I’ve ever had. I couldn’t get enough of the sweet local pineapple. All he really had to do was drive the bus, but did so much more and became part of our family. He was also a bit of a photographer, snapping shots of us on his old film SLR as we rode past. It was really nice to see these guys become great assets to the Vietnam tourism landscape, especially after some other hawkers just see you for instant cash and don’t yet understand the idea of ‘long term’ gains from developing relationships with tourists to earn respect and in turn repeat business and recommendations for future growth of the industry.

For most lunches Phuc would just find a small, very inexpensive roadside Vietnamese joint and we will have noodles, fried rice or a local specialty. For dinner, he takes us to a local spot in each town. All the food has been tasty and super cheap. Most dinners with a beer, cost less than $5. And lunches are about $2. There’s lots of meat, pork, fish, noodles, rice, squid, etc. There are some other ‘odd’ meats here and there and the other night I tried something Phuc called “a cow tendon.” Of course, after much prodding, he told me what it really was–part of a cow penis. Mmmm. Kinda grisly. The girls seemed to like it more than the guys—now I guess that makes sense.

Related posts:

1. Same Same, But Different
2. Junk in the Trunk
3. Tour du Vietnam

To take a break from the constant drone of the bustling & smoggy city of Hanoi, I got away on a three day, two night tour of the mysterious and beautiful, and much quieter, Ha Long Bay. This wonderful landscape of limestone cliffs enshrouded in mist cascading into the gentle waters became a UNESCO World Heritage site back in 1994. By the way, since I never knew, UNESCO stands for the United Nations Educational, Scientific, and Cultural Organization.

It’s not the cliffs themselves that make Ha Long Bay unique, but rather their sheer number. This huge bay is dotted with nearly 2,000 mostly uninhabited jagged limestone islands. Created over millions of years, tectonic forces slowly thrust the limestone above the water-line. During this process waves lapping against the stone carved out a number of huge, striking caves.

Over the ages, Vietnamese fishermen with too much time on their hands began to see shapes in the stone shapes of the islands, and named them accordingly — Turtle Island, Human Head Island, Chicken Island and so on. But one of the most fascinating cultural features of the are the floating fishing villages, where houses are set atop barges year round, the inhabitants catching and cultivating fish throughout.

My tour, as well as hundreds of others, consisted of a ride on a ‘traditional’ (but rebuilt copy of course—like everything you buy in Vietnam) junk boat. A junk is a traditional Chinese sailing vessel.

After we walked down the dock and then precariously climbed over several other boats, we hoisted ourselves aboard our shiny wooden decked and trimmed junk. It was nicer than I expected. There was a large lounge/dining room and an upper deck with lounge chairs and potted plants. I shared a double room with a French gal and it was larger than many hotel rooms I’ve stayed in. For $75 I was getting two nights lodging (one on the boat and one at a 3-star hotel on an island), three lunches, two dinners, and two breakfasts, plus the tour guide, all transportation costs, and activities—quite an amazing value.

The bay is really a magical place. It was so peaceful compared to the city we’d left behind just hours ago. It was nice and quiet out here—well, except for the one hundred or so other tourist ‘junks’ that sailed around us following just about the same route. Oh, and one other thing that just seems impossible to escape in Vietnam? The Hawkers. Even out here in the calm, quiet waters tiny women in tiny boats approached.

“Excuse me. Please buy something from me. Oreos? Ritz Cracker? I have snack for you.”

These women were tireless and the most persistent salespeople I’ve ever encountered. Perhaps they should come to the states and try their hand at pharmaceutical sales…they could make a fortune. Well, considering the fact that most middle class here earn about fifty to one hundred dollars a month, working anywhere else could make them a small fortune. If you bought something, they would toss it up to you in the boat and you would try to get your money down to them without it drifting into the water.

On the first day we docked at one of the many islands and took a tour inside what I think is the most amazing cave I’ve ever seen. They call it the “Surprising Cave” and once inside you can see why. There are three main caverns in it and each one gets larger than the next. The walls were illuminated with colorful lights to show off the limestone formations really adding to the overall ‘coolness’. Stalactites grew down to meet their friendly stalagmites all around us.

Our boat held twelve tourists—a really nice small group for a tour like this. As I’ve learned, most times, it’s really the group that makes the tour and not really the tour itself (barring any huge tour issues). We had a great international contingency: An Australian couple from Melbourne who I became quite fond of (too bad I met them after I stayed there!), a cool Canadian guy that was just taking some time off as he returned to Toronto after living and teaching in Taiwan for two years, A girl from France who was in Hanoi volunteering, a Japanese student, a quiet Korean guy who was also here to volunteer, and a friendly, a fun couple from Germany, and a British family traveling throughout Asia for seven months.

Today, this area is a booming tourism zone. Tourism in general really just got started in Vietnam about ten years ago. So, you can imagine some kinks are still not completely ironed out…and even when they are, the folks here just don’t have the years of experience to make it a completely smooth sail, pun intended.

As I’ve said, the tour and accommodations were beyond my expectations and that was a really nice surprise. But they are still learning the tourism ‘ropes’ here and still have a pretty harsh mentality of sometimes only giving the customer the least of what’s expected and certainly don’t know the phrase “the customer is always right” yet. There were two amusing examples of this.

1. I paid about $15 extra for what this tour company called the “VIP” tour. It meant I was supposed to be on a slightly nicer boat and the second night’s hotel would be three stars instead of two. Well, it turned out that about half the folks on my boat were not VIP—so I guess there was no real boat difference. BUT, these non-VIPers would be charged to use the air conditioning units in the rooms because it was not included in their tour. My A/C use was included in my VIP treatment. Well, the tour guide, Linh, a very effeminate Vietnamese guy who majored in English but we could still barely understand him, made sure to pull me aside to tell me that we could use the A/C when I was in the room, but my French roommate, who was so not VIP, could not use it alone. And he was not joking. All the VIPers were handed their A/C remotes and would have to return them the next day. It was quite hilarious.
2. On the final day, the couple from Deutschland, Anya and Bernard, accidentally broke their key off in their room lock. The guide said they would have to pay for a whole new door knob/lock. It was a very awkward situation. We all knew back in our respective countries, the hospitality etiquette would be for the manager to apologize to them and just get them a new key. But here in ‘Nam—the customer broke it and would have to pay. The cost was going to be US$10 because the staff claimed they would have to replace the whole thing. I spoke out and asked if we could just get some pliers and remove the key bit from the door. Luckily one passenger had a multi-tool and just a few minutes later Bernard reappeared with the end of the key. So now all they would need is a new key. They continued to contend it was very expensive and wanted about 50,000 Dong. Now this is only a little more than three dollars, but it was the principal. We all knew that here in the world of cheap copies, there was no way a duplicate key to a cheap lock would cost that much. Everything here is about a quarter less than it would be at home.

Anyway, back to our fun getaway. After a scrumptious meal of many courses and much seafood, we hung out chatting as our boat dropped anchor for the night amidst the sea and stars. Silhouetted against the night sky were the forms of dozens of looming limestone cliffs—it was surreal.

The next day we had an active day—cycling in the morning on one of the islands and kayaking in the afternoon around the islands and in and around some caves. Not only was the bicycle ride my only warm up to my upcoming two week ride through the country of Vietnam, it was also quite an eye-opening experience to ‘real life’ for many here. We cycled through farm fields and into a small and very remote village on the island. These people are truly self reliant—growing, killing, and cooking their own meals is a daily way of life. And yes, I must tell you, that I saw firsthand one of the staples of their diet—dog. It became quite evident rather quickly as we rode past the small mud and thatched homes that every single one had dogs and puppies laying around their cement slab of a ‘front yard.’ As I cycled by, I thought to myself, there is just no way all these people could have or afford to have these as pets. I rode up to Linh and asked him if they were in fact raised for eating. Not only did he say yes, he had tried it and said it was “quite tasty.” Now before you get too upset, all I can say is this:

I am a very big animal lover. I would and could never hurt an animal or kill one myself to eat. Not to say, I do not realize where the meat and chicken comes from that I eat. Believe me, I continue to think about becoming a vegetarian and struggle with the hypocrisy all the time. I try to do what I can to eat organic and free range animals, but again, do not do this all the time. I understand we eat meat. I am fine with this; it’s just animal abuse that I am not fine with. If animals have a peaceful and happy life and are killed in a known humane way, then I think this is okay. I still could not do it myself, but I think it is okay. No suffering of any kind is the key. SO, back to Vietnam: These dogs were all hanging out roaming around freely and seemed happy. If this is part of their diet like cows are part of ours than I guess that’s just the way it is. These dogs were not domesticated and were not wagging their tails at any of us. So all I can say is it seemed okay. But of course, I also tried not to think about it too hard. I guess last year was a pretty crappy year for dogs in the ‘Year of the Dog,’ and for this year’s pigs, I don’t think it’s any better.

So speaking of eating, in the middle of our day, our boat pulled right up to a deserted sandy island beach, unloaded a table, chairs, white tablecloth and china and we had a lovely lunch on the beach. It was all quite nice—prawns, chicken, fried rice, tofu, calamari, and fruit. As I write this, I’m also seeing the complete ironic contrasts of our fabulously luxurious easy life compared to the poor villages we had just waved to only moments earlier. I guess we have to at least just remember to be so thankful for all that we really have or give back when we can.

That night we slept on Cat Ba Island in what was probably the most luxurious hotel I’ve stayed in since my beach time in Australia. Of course here, it was only $25 a night, but it had regular western rooms with TV, fridge, A/C and a big, but incredibly hard bed. We dined in the hotel restaurant and relaxed for the evening. The following day after a series of boat changes mid bay, we returned back to the harbor where we had started from and boarded our mini bus back to the hustle of Hanoi. This time I was prepared for the full-on assault of the city and it seemed just a little tamer then when we left…well , not tamer, but I knew what to expect.

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Really, I mean good morning…like wake up and smell the exhaust fumes. And if that doesn’t wake you up (or knock you out) the noise will because there are fifty thousand motorcycle and car horns blowing constantly!!

So, here I am in CRAZY Hanoi. Okay, forget what I said about Hong Kong. That city now looks like “Kansas” compared to Hanoi. If that was sensory overload, then this is sensory implosion. At least in Hong Kong there was some order and people still stopped at lights and crossed at crosswalks. Here, horns are a constant—they love ‘em and use them like we all tend to foolishly push the elevator button repeatedly as if that will make it come any faster. They beep here almost just for the sake of beeping. It’s so common and ingrained in the noisy fabric of society that I don’t t think anyone here even hears it anymore and they certainly don’t get annoyed when someone beeps at them. In a way, it’s used much more, but much less aggressively than our honking back in the US. There, if you beeped as much as they do hear, you’d rack up a good amount of dirty looks and one-digit hands by the end of the day. Here, it’s really just to say “I’m behind you, move over a bit.” But the decibel level always remains at a constant high.

I’ve never seen more scooters in my life—not Rome, not anywhere! It’s nuts. And coming from the airport, I think we hit one intersection with a traffic light—all the rest were just a free-for-all—proceed at your own risk. Someone recently told me something that has resonated very true with what I’ve seen on my tour so far: The world is divided in two—the countries where cars stop for pedestrians and the countries where pedestrians have to stop for cars. So true—and a good barometer for how most other things will be as well.

Vietnam’s Communist government opened the country up to foreign trade with the US just six years ago. And just this January they became members of the WTO (World Trade Organization). Now this tiny country, which is only slightly larger than the US state of New Mexico, is Asia’s fastest growing economy after the powerhouse of “Big Red,” China. The new competition has driven prices down…so in turn the poor working class can now afford all these motorcycles. And it won’t be much longer when they will start trading up for more automobiles—an urban planner’s nightmare on the already clogged, tiny and exhaust hazed streets of Hanoi.

My most frequent mode of transport during my travels so far has been walking. Even that is a bit difficult and unnerving in this town. The sidewalks are barely there or non-existent. Most shops spill out into the street overtaking the sidewalk or they are completely covered by the aforementioned motorcycles. The sidewalks are more like unofficial scooter parking lots and pedestrians spill onto the street with the rest of the constant and frenetic motion.

But it’s not all bad here, its saving grace is that it was a French Colony for about sixty years—so amidst the hustle and bustle are some grand French boulevards and tree lined walkways. French rule ended with the Franco-Viet Minh war in the 1950s when French forces surrendered in the northwest town of Dien Bien Phu. The only reason I’ve heard of this city is thanks to Billy Joel’s we didn’t start the fire! (“Dien Bien Phu falls, rock around the clock, Einstein, James Dean, Brooklyn’s got a winning team…”)

I may get used to it, but I don’t love it so far. I already was a victim of an attempted scam. Many travelers I met and things I read warned of that here—everyone just sees Westerners and sees dollar signs in their eyes like an old Bugs Bunny cartoon. So everyone is trying to sell you ‘something’ you ‘need’ and make the most off you that they can. That’s a pain to be on your guard all the time. In my few short hours here I’ve already been propositioned by about ten ‘moped’ taxis, a girl selling travel books (they are copies of the originals) out of a box, a fruit lady, and other random hawkers. Now , of course, in Hong Kong there were the tailor guys trying to sell you suits, but they took ‘no’ for an answer. Here they follow you down the street after you’ve already said ‘no thanks’ several times and then unfortunately you have to get “not nice” with them which doesn’t make anyone feel good.

Plus the money? It’s 16,000 Dong to $1! That’s also too much math work for my tired brain and too many bills in my pocket! But it does make me have to say one thing: “What’s happenin’ hot stuff?” For those of you growing up in the 80s, I have no doubt you know what movie Long Duck Dong was from.

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