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Escape to Saigon

We skipped Dalat, a mountainous growing region famous for it's coffee and wine, due to a blanket of rain that had been forecast to smother any chance of a good time -- and headed south, to Ho Chi Minh and the Mekong Delta.

The first, and only, really big highlight was the Cu Chi tunnels. We hopped on a tourist bus that must've had the best guide in the entire city. For almost two hours we heard the former Vietnamese, American Navy member tell us his account of Vietnam. Pre, during and post war. It's not often you get a history and culture laden lesson from someone who fought (without killing) against his native homeland, and then decided to stay and endure a lengthy re-education camp. He claimed it was to help rebuild, and because he didn't like western food. He was an odd mix of slightly bitter and light hearted. He told us about the long history of foreign occupation and wars on Vietnamese soil, the ingenuity of his people, mostly through stories of the tunnels.

At the tunnels, we cringed at the booby-traps employed by the VC. (I never want to go to war). And got to crawl through an authentic section of the first level. It was hot, tight, dark, and smelled like kerosene. It's simply mind bogging that there were two, even more intense levels underneath -- with the lower having underwater escapes -- and that the tunnels stretched for over 200km.


   

The Delta was slow, easy going and full of friendly smiles and hellos. In Can Tho we took a private boat ride to visit the largest floating market. It always marvels me the way Asian societies operate so efficiently in packed spaces. They slung long motor shafts from side to side and with an air of effortlessness, made their boats dance around each other. A beautiful ballet of commerce, noise and pollution.

   

   

Hoi An

After the cold of Sapa we headed to the rainy of Hoi An where we toured the historic tailor town, ate delicious peanut candies and brought in the New Year. I resolved to travel more in 2009.

 

The Hissing Vegetable

We've been to Ha Noi three times on this trip. Once as a home base on the way into Vietnam, once after Cat Ba Island, and for three hours during a train stopover from Sapa to Hoi An -- a 32 hour journey.

Our expectations weren't overly high, as we tend to prefer rural areas and small towns to big cities that usually feel Same Same. It only took 10 seconds in the Old Quarter to win us over. The labyrinth of business-busy streets and hidden alleyways beg you to get lost. Unknowingly, we continually obliged. One afternoon we lucked out of the crowd and found ourselves lunching alone, on a 5th story terrace perched over the lake, and one of the businest corners in the city. The lack of traffic lights make the enormous flow entertaining to watch. And fun to play in.

The second time we passed through this Asian New Orleans, we bumped into Joe, a friend we made on the journey from Laos to Hanoi. We were roaming the streets after dinner and he was out looking for trouble. Little did Joe realize that trouble would be in his soup. His growing foreign language skills properly communicated to our Vietnamese hosts that he vegetarian. When the dish arrived -- on it's own table top burner -- the lot of us stopped. It was a funky green, swamp broth with a smell to match. Heather picked up the chopsticks and gave it a couple of exploratory pokes. We roared into laughter and Joe cringed when up came a wide-open snakes head that looked like it had been dead for many days. There was talk that Monks can eat snake and bear even though they are vegetarian and that was the source of the misunderstanding, but I think the staff was just trying to pawn some old soup off on a unsuspecting white boy. It took some doing, but Joe eventually got the dish sent back and held on to his 200,000 Dong.

      

Christmas Dinner with Charlie

 

We made it up to Sapa, Vietnam very early on the 24th of December. Just in time for Christmas. After checking into our hotel and taking a long nap under a mound of blankets, we hit the cold, foggy streets in search of fire and coffee. 30 seconds later we saw a familiar face shrouded in the thick mist. It was Charlie. The very first person we met on our trip, at the airport in Osaka, Japan. We spent a couple of moments marveling at the coincidence, and then made plans to meet up for a proper holiday meal.
 
We splurged at a fine Italian restaurant that had an impressive buffet filled with all kinds of imported meats and cheeses. Wow. It was lively. It was festive. It was exactly what we needed. The flamboyent owner and all his friends cracked us up and Charlie proved to be wonderful, interesting company. Taking our full and happy bellies, we rolled next door to finish the night off at Bebop, with great music and a little dancing.

 

More pictures of us freezing in Sapa :

  

Dagger Rock

In the western world, a hard trek makes you sweat, gets your heart pumping, causes a nice burn in your legs, and occasionally steals your breathe. In Vietnam, a hard hike is down right dangerous.
 
We hired a local guide to lead us and a couple of Aussie girls through butterfly Valley -- a deceptive name. We encountered barely visible death holes, sharp shifting-boulders, and climbed over long impaling rocks that could easily end it all with just one slip. If you end up on Cat Ba Island, do yourself a favor, stick to the well beaten path of the natural park. Cruise the infinite formations of the bay. Go kayaking. Check out the caves. Find a bungalow on the quiet beach. Eat lots of floppin' fresh seafood.