Saigon Taxi

Have you ever felt like you just wanted to yell....I mean loud!  That's me right now.  Yelling.  Being the level headed, sensitive, seasoned, and laid back traveler that I am, I still have a few tiny things that get me rilled up.   Yes, I realize it's not pretty but I'm going to get some help for it.  I promise.  TAXIS are my biggest pet peeve on earth.  I seem to have some kind of deep dark evil past with a cheeping taxi driver.   While my previous history includes a minor scuffle in NYC, getting out in the rain in Shreveport, LA, getting out in the worse part of a Mexican barrio, along with various shouting and yelling confrontations over the years, I don't consider myself that hard to deal with.  I just want to be treated fairly.  Is that too much to ask?  Today was a return trip back to my hotel that costs 4 times the price of the original trip.  Same route.  And yes this Taxis had a meter.   The only trouble was this meter was moving so fast that it looked like the screen on the 1000 penny pay outs for a one cent slot machine.  We are talking NASA altitude fast.  I was at the original price before we got 50 feet from where he picked me up.   When I question him about it he told me in broken English that we were taking the long way back to my hotel.  Well, hit me with a frying pan...that was good news.  All I could think of to do was pull out a pen and write down every number I could find.  Of course he had no ID like the first cab.  I wrote down his current radio station, the phone number, is vehicle number which was more like the expiration date and then made up a few for good measure.  I mumble trip advisor, tourist police, regular police, US embassy and really none of those seemed to rattle him.  In the end I paid the fair of course.  That will show him.  Now I'm cranky and stressed and in need of a cocktail. I bet he will think twice about ripping me off again.
  I'm walking from now on.  

Floating the Mekong

The Mekong River is the second longest river in Asia.  It starts deep in the mountains and runs through Thailand, Laos, Cambodia, and Vietnam.  The Mekong Delta is that big pile of mud created by the mighty river.  It’s about 150,000 Square Kilometers of land  interlaced with millions of tiny waterways. Actually some are pretty good size and all are the roadways in the region.   One thing is for sure, all of the water of the Mekong Delta is coffee brown.  In the seasons it changes from that muddy brown to a lighter yellow but it’s still brown to me.    

Life in the Delta is a lot like South Louisiana, it revolves around the water.  My favorite place is the floating morning market just outside Can Tho city on the Mekong.  Each morning hundreds of boats bring all sorts of vegetables to the market.  The morning market is only veggies.  You can tell what each boat sells by the product on top of a long bamboo pole above the boat.  People live on these boats all their lives and very young children rarely set foot on solid ground.  But don’t worry.  All the important stuff is there.  Mobile starbuck's coffee vendors and the midday lunch or breakfast boats are at your just a shout away.   You can even get a shot of something in your coffee if you can negotiate with the barrista. I have no idea what it was but it wasn’t Baileys I can tell you that.   It’s easy to forget how many different ways there are to live in the world.  Being happy may be just as simple as a good cup of coffee and nailing a big ram ra fruit sale.  

Cu Chi and Sounds of War

Cu Chi village is only about 45 km from Saigon.  18,000 Vietnamese lived under ground in this enormous and unbelievably complex system of tunnels that date back to 1948 and the war with the French.  They stretch all the way to Cambodia and spiderweb out for a zillion miles.  No, I didn't go in and yes I was told I could get stuck.  As it turned out a dutch guy got stuck while I was there and the tunnel extraction team was called in.  Everyone coming out after only about 20 meters looked like hell, good choice on my part I think.  No self respecting Texan can walk by an AK-47 rifle set on full automatic without wanting to bust a cap or two.  I guess I should be happy the war era ammo didn't blow up in my face.  All in all a very very smooth ride considering this thing was 40 plus years old.

The highlight of the visit turned out to be something very different than blasting away with the AK.  As I sat and had a coke a few hundred yards away from the rifle range it just hit me to what I was listening to.  Vietnamese weapons, US M16's, big mounted M60 machine guns.  The sounds were of battles that happened in that very place.  The sounds of young men and women killing and being killed.   No Full Metal Jacket or Platoon sound effects.  It was what would have been heard on that very spot 45 years ago and they all were sounds of death.  I wish I could say we have learned something from all of that but most of the time I don't see it.  It's said that hindsight is always 20/20  and it's easy

 to find your way after you are already there but it is also true that the only real way to tell the future is by the past.  I would gladly now pay 20 bucks to see all the tourism of war and the reason for it go away forever.

The Wicked Streets of Saigon

Tonight was not one of those nights you would like to tell people about.  Unfortunately, they do happen.  Maybe that is one of the things I seemed to like about Hanoi and other smaller cities...they seemed safer than Ho Chi Minh.  Tonight I was first hand witness to two purse snatchings within about 10 minutes.  Both were off of the back of a motor bike and both of the grabbers were women.  It was like some surreal slow motion event that literally unfolds 15 feet from your face.  I was having some dinner at a sidewalk cafe

and bang the first one happened.  The young western woman had a small purse hanging on her "street side" and within a half second it was gone.  There is a good chance I will always remember her boyfriend running as hard as he could after the bike down the street.  The second was just a few moments later in almost the same place but different perps.  This time the woman was not sure what happened to her for a couple of minutes.  The Vietnamese/Texan lady from the restaurant told her her bag went that way.  The worst part of the entire thing is that the locals and shop owners clapped on the first one.  Clapped!  I'm still pissed about it.  I guess all the smiles in the world can't hide what some people think.  Certainly, not all were clapping but it did quickly bring me back to reality.   I suddenly realized how completely lax I have been over the last couple of weeks.  Camera slung over my shoulder on the wrong side.  My bag on the table in front of me.  I know better but it's amazing how you just want to leave those apprehensions and fears behind and enjoy the day.  Now keep in mind I was robbed twice in two days in Houston not three days before I came here so thieves are certainly multinational.  Beware out there everyone.  Don't let fear blind you from what virtue there is but keep up the guard unless you want to leave it to the security guard.  Just try to wake him up first. 

So Long Hoi An

My last night in Hoi An was a fun one.  I met up with some traveler friends at the favorite restaurant and ended up closing them down.  All of that in a major flood.  After all it is the rainy season in Southeast Asia.  Last night was actually the first time I pulled out my deluxe poncho and had to use it.  It's incredible to see these mind boggling  huge rains that go from not being able to see across the street to a complete stop in a few seconds.

 I did manage to take a ride on the local water taxi during the day.  Just a short trip

to get to the other side of river.  My driver/paddler is the very old lady sitting on the back of the boat in the photo.  My tele lens has bitten the dust so I was a tad far away. I'm taking the lens back to Texas for the proper burial.  Sort of like Captain Cal taking Gus back to Texas in Lonesome Dove.  Anyway, she wouldn't let me take a photo of her on the boat.  Since that was really the only reason I took the boat across the river...(there is a bridge just out of frame in the photo), I was buggered as my British buddies would say.  So, she dropped me off on the steps and started to paddle away but I called her back.  It was damn hot and I might as well have her take me back.  She looked up from under her cone hat and just pointed to the other side.  I  just went ahead and got in,  as I as a did I think I could see her look out and make sure the bridge was still there.  When I got out she took my twenty-five cents and never looked up.  Actually she paddled hard to the other side and stationed there. I'm sure she was afraid I would want to go back.   Those ridiculous Americans.   Hoi An was fun but now on to somewhere else.  I'm just not sure.  I'm now back in Saigon and will do the planning tomorrow.  The difference between Hanoi and Saigon is unbelievable.  Carry me back to old Hanoi..do do do..do!

Hoi An

Not far from the booming modern city of Da Nang is the city of Hoi An.  Hoi An is one of the oldest cities in Vietnam and not far from Hue.  Hue was the ancient capitol of the Kingdom and the site of one of the bloodiest battles in the "American War".   Today Hoi An has managed to keep a good bit of it's old architecture  in the old section of the town.  Despite being overrun with tourists it's still a charming little place.  It's also a woman's clothes paradise.  I'm not sure why this place has so many tailors and clothing shops but you would never have to go to the mall again if you were here.  It's all on the street.  So far my favorite part of Hoi An....other than the tiny pool at the hotel is Leng Sao.   A small restaurant that overlooks the ferry stop on the river.  After sitting there and pondering world shaking questions with my young friends Lauren and Richard from the UK, I turn my thoughts to why all of those people are getting on the ferries when they have motorbikes and there are two bridges within sight.  No I'm not going to launch into another story of intrigue ...but what about a courier crossing on the ferry...OK. sorry.  I'm sure there is a reason but no one seems to be willing to tell a westie.   Maybe I will get a bottle of snake wine and the path will become more clear.  This is actually the most awful thing that I have seem.  These idiots are destroying the populations of endangered reptiles purely for tourist shock value.  No ancient rituals going on  here just dumb people buying them to do a Facebook shocker selfie.    The mechanical black cloud continues on this journey with not only a computer down but my favorite lens has not bit the dust.   The list of electronic, mechanical,  cyber type gremlins biting my ankles is a long one but I will continue to endeavor to persevere.   Hoi An is worth a stop and make sure you get the street Loa Cacu.  A fried shredded pork dish with mint, noodle, and a chili jam.

The Barber of Du Duy Tu

The back streets in Vietnam seem to be filled with great opening lines from some international spy novel.  "glancing both ways quickly, Mr. Yen put the box in his pocket and slid the razor sharp throwing knife back into his sleeve".  You know, something like that.  Sitting on Du Duy Tu street across from the street barber, I composed a few of those sinister lines.  I'm going to call the barber Mr. Lee Sao.   There is something strange about this barber.  The first time I saw him I was trying to get a shave.  He had a street salon set up outside of the Noch Cay restaurant complete with fashion posters.  I inquired about the shave to the young hostess who quickly rushed in to the seated Mr. Sao and relayed my request.  He was sitting at what anyone would recognize as a prominent table having a coffee and a smoke.  When asked about the shave he slowly shook his head without ever making eye contact with the hostess.  She returned to me and in a humble tone said, "now not good time".  Really, Mr Sao appeared to be lounging without much regard to marketing his trade or making any dong for that matter.   As it turned out one of my favorite street food stales was across the street from Noch Cay and the barber.  Over the course of a few days I saw Mr. Sao give exactly one haircut.  I saw him turn away at least a dozen.  And I thought it was just me.  Here is the one haircut taken in a very spy like fashion under my left arm.
  He looks like a man you really don't want to let put a razor to your throat.  Maybe the gods have smiled on me again.  I have a feeling that he could be Madame Woo's son who moved to Hanoi to open a branch of the family business.  See previous posting for Madame Woo's biography.   No matter what, he isn't going to wear out his knees standing at the barber chair.

Table for One

I have had a few meals at the Little Black Duck on Hang Gach street while in the old part of Hanoi.  The food was good and Hoang, the owner, speaks wonderful english.  Last night I was craving a bit of Europe and splurged for a bottle of Chardonnay and some pasta.  Sitting in my usual crowed outside table.  (there is only one) and sweating the evening away was my plan.  Little did I know that there was a roof top terrace that was normally not open to the public.  I got the invite and low and behold..."a table for one".  The roof was amazing.  It gives such a spectacular  perspective of Hanoi.  You spend all day with millions of people jammed into the narrow streets going about their day not realizing that LIFE is above the streets not on them.  Sitting there with
 Chile' finest dry Chardonnay and just being a voyeur .  Watching people doing their laundry, watching TV, learning to ride a bike on the roof.  It was fantastic.  There was even a slight breeze.   I even see the corner apartment on the busy intersection that has bounced in and out of my dreams for years.  A little different but the same.  big fan..white sheets, and a balcony just above the bustle of the street...  The Little Black Duck.  5th Floor, Table for one.  I would recommend making it a table for two.  That would be hard to beat.  

Hanoi with Love

Imagine the scene if you can.  About 30 wacky 14 and 15 years olds running in a huge group yelling in English and holding signs that say "Free Hugs".  There are not a lot of English speakers at all in Hanoi.  Even fewer can read English, so people young and old didn't exactly get the program on this one.  Young children screamed and ran to their parents, old people pushed and shoved the "huggists" out of the way.  Especially confusing was sign holder number three in the photo.  It was more than likely a well intended English class field trip that went South on them.  It looks like from the uniforms it was one of those snobby private schools where the rich kids go.  By the end of the sidewalk, lets say about 200 yards, the love fest was called off.  Just too much fear involved too early in the morning. That's ok because they all stopped at the ice cream stand a few yards away to lick their wounds and the signs went in a big bag. Not a bad shot at community love really, they just need some fine tuning I think.

Ms. Linh and the Secret Sauce

Meet Linh, the owner of my most frequented food establishment in Hanoi.  Ms. Linh takes her work and product very seriously which may be hard to imagine from that bright and beautiful face.  Her stand is a street over from my hotel and for some reason every time I walk by she reaches into my pocket and takes some of my money.  I really don’t mind and it’s not much money.  25 cents a stick for the chicken satay with the secret super hot chili sauce of course.  Every once in awhile I will try to sit and eat my sticks on the tiny plastic chairs that are so small they stick to my butt when I get up.  Hum, they seem small anyway.  Linh goes to school and comes out after 2 with her grill and cooler.  At 13 she is already a saleswoman of impressive prowess.   It’s funny to see adults try to haggle with her about her prices and the fact that she has no plates.  I mean this is a mobile operation and needs to stay low overhead.  I’m sure there is another trip to Ms. Linh before I head out of Hanoi.  

Night Train to Hanoi

What is it about trains that still holds some magic.  I mean I remember when it was fun to fly.  Everyone was all dressed up and people treated you like Kings and Queens.  OMG the days of free cocktails?  Did that really happen? Now it’s worse than the old greyhound station.  How about those 5 dollar peanuts or paying more for a beer than you would at a baseball game?   Well, I still hold a soft spot in my heart for train travel.  Sure, the cabins are small and usually crowded.  At least on the ones I can afford to travel on and the berths are narrow and about an inch to short for this guy.   Well and of course there is the guarantee that if there is an upper berth it’s going to be mine.  Getting in and out of that thing for the midnight toilet break is not even remotely easy.  That said, I still love trains.  The rocking and bouncing is somehow soothing compared to the usual terror that those motions have with air travel.  I mean unless you are in India....how many people really go to meet the great conductor in the sky when traveling by train?  Don’t look it up....you won’t like the answer.  It’s worth the risk to listen to the sullen and bored “milk coffee” lady knock on your cabin door at 6 am.  Again, that top berth thing can be challenging but somehow it all works out.   So, I would encourage you to give the train a try if you haven’t in awhile especially if you are 5 feet 11 and a half or shorter...

Please don't feed the H'mong

I guess mountain people need mountains even when they are in the city.  It must make them feel at home.  To me it has this strange Zoo scene look that is very disturbing.  Just behind where this photo was taken is a sign to that says, “Rules for Visitors”.  Number 2 on the list is do not buy things from the local village people.  It says to only buy from the approved cultural shops.  I have no idea what an approved cultural shop is but if it’s like what I imagine it steals the crafts at less than pennies on the dollar, creates a huge mark up, and then collects tax on the sale.  Where would some indigenous tribal sort sign up for a deal like that?  Number 3 on the sign said absolutely do not buy anything from children.  We are talking more absolutely than Number 2.   It states that if you buy from children then they will stay on the street and not go to school.  There is a solid truth to that but from what I have come to find out that public education in this part of Vietnam is seriously lacking.  You see the government stopped running the free rural bus service for children.  Hum.  Village partners are not supposed to sell their wares on the street, children can’t sell, buses to school cost money?  Hum, again.   Now you may be able to see the Zoo feeling with H’mong people on the rock in the middle of town and a sign that essentially says please don’t feed the locals.  You have to marvel at what our world does to these amazing indigenous cultures.  Especially considering most of the people in Sapa have come to see them yet they are the ones marginalized.  Just my thoughts.

I have big Dong

Well, maybe not but I am fairly confident that I have more dong that you....at least right now.  I will leave it to others to judge which is more important in the long run.   I know just about everyone who has ever been to a Vietnamese restaurant  anywhere has reached into their pockets and realized they were short on Dong.  Yes, it's happened to me too.  Dong gonnit! Not enough jack, coin, mulla, or  greenbacks.  Well, ladies...Just an FYI.  That will not happen if you are with me.  At least today.  I'm loaded to the count of  "13, 754,000 DONG".  you are reading it right.  I have millions.  So, just keep that in mind.   Please don't get too heavy in currency conversion or it could shackle my buzz.  Let's just say that a single Dong is pretty tiny.....super small.....how about doesn't exist.  So while there is absolutely no disputing the fact that I have big Dong.  It may not be completely up to international standards.  As with all travelers and their Dong, they are soon parted.  And so it goes....

Sapa in the Clouds

Some years ago I was sitting in a sushi restaurant in Denver Colorado with a Lonely Planet guidebook on Vietnam.  It turned out the sushi chef was Vietnamese and was very interested in my future plans to visit his country.  I asked him what  is the one place that I should not miss if I was to go to Vietnam.  Without hesitating or missing a beat he said “Sapa”.  “Luscious green mountains, cool mountain air, and indigenous hill tribes make the area paradise”, he said.  As it turns out he was from a Black Hmong village that was only a few kilometers outside of Sapa.   They along with several other local hill people can be seen heading into the market in Sapa to sell and heckle the tourists out of their dong.    

I have long since forgotten his name but the pieces of his story have stuck with me over the years.  He managed to learn some English on his trips into town and built on that knowledge.  Speaking English is a powerful tool in rural Vietnam.  He then got a hotel job and his English improved a little more.  The story goes on and on but through the help of family friends and others he managed to end up in Denver Colorado.  Not that different from his home I suppose at least on the landscape side.  It sounded so difficult just to come to the US I’m not sure we would have that much resolve.  Now he is living the dream as he said smiling.  He said he didn’t get home much these days.  I could see that look in his eyes that he really didn’t want to go.  It was more a look of fear.  You know, that feeling that if you do go back you will be trapped by life and perhaps not get out again?  

Well, It took a few years but here I am sitting on a small balcony sipping a drink and looking out over the beautiful green panorama of Sapa.  Just like he said.  It occurred to me that perhaps his mother or father was in the market this morning.  Carrying their wares into town and packing them up when the day was over and walking into the jungle.  I imagine they would talk about their son who was making it big in America to the other hawkers on the street.  Parents seem to do that sort of thing.  I wish I could have gone up to them and told them their son is the one that got me here.  I would also tell them he makes one hell of a dragon roll.

Traffic Dance

Sitting at one of my favorite tables at Duy Tu Hung restaurant at the intersection of Hang Chieu and Hang Lo ma in Hanoi is an education of sorts.  Actually, it’s an intersection of 3 streets that form a funnel into a small opening that was part of the walled city in Hanoi hundreds of years ago.  It took a couple of days to stop the groaning and gasping as the scooters, cars, people, and bikes all fired into the center of the intersection at break neck speed.  Let it be said that I have plenty of respect for those who conquer fear.  A soldier, bull rider, bull fighter, that first date meeting the dad, yep,  all those folks are truly brave.  Now, I have added the old lady carrying a couple of hundred pounds on a stick balanced on her shoulder and a delivery guy with 15 propane bottles balanced on a Vespa to that list.   There are rules....I suppose.  I just cannot seem to figure out what they are other than don’t slow down and don’t hesitate.  Somehow all the objects stay in motion and it’s rare that anyone misses their step in the dance.  The lesson taken for the table  may be never to take your eye off the target...and remember that fortune favors the brave...  

Hoan Kiem Lake Fan Dancers

Fan Dancers

Having a strong coffee at my favorite cafe in Hanoi on the shores of Hoan Kiem Lake early in the morning provides some great visual stimulation to start the day.  Zumba, Jazzercise, and aerobics are all fine ways to burn some fat and get the heart beating and blood flowing.  I must admit that my experience is limited with those art forms but I would have to say that the Hoan Kiem Lake fan dancers  would have to be right up there as a new addition to the exercise craze.  About 20 older Women moving in some short of rhythmic unison without any apparent leader makes you stand in amazement.  the bright yellow hand fans snap out at designated positions during the dance and causes everyone around to look up and take notice.  We are talking Dallas Cowboy Cheerleader type snapping here.

Not to be outdone in the quest for eternal health is an elderly gentleman that is performing some high impact rather violent calisthenics while seated on a stone bench.  The routine would sicken the most experienced fighter pilot and certainly generates something in the neighborhood of 4 to 5 G’s.  He throws himself backwards on the bench with both arms raised and then tries to tuck his head under the seat of the bench. He does this over and over as fast as he can.  25 to 30 times without a break or a slowing.  No pain on gain I guess.

There is a unique serenity to this place in the morning.  No one seems to worry about what they look like or what they have on.  Certainly no one is coming out here to “be seen”.  The silence in the middle of the chaos is wonderful.

How big are your stools?

Street bar stools

At just shy of 6 feet I can tell you that asian bar stools are a bit low.  Low in fact is somewhat of a misstatement.   They are midget low.  As you travel through the land you see all of these local folks sitting on their heels.  Well, I know where my heels are... I have seen them and occasionally when things have gone well... I have touched one.  Sitting on them has not been an option for many years.  I can now say that sitting on these “bar stools” is as close as I intend to get.  No amount of cold Tiger beer can numb the ass cramp and knee pain of trying to get up after sitting on one of these little jewels.  Keep in mind that Ming is about 5 feet tall in this photo for perspective.   Yep.  Nothing but big boy chairs from now on for this cowboy.  Can you even imagine they have plastic ones of these things...  Can anyone say...”load limit”.  

Yachting with the Vietcong

Sitting on this private Vietnamese houseboat solo would be one of the most ridiculous things I have ever done if it weren’t for the crew.  Those of you who know me will immediately realize the gravity of the “one of the most ridiculous things I have ever done” statement.  I have knocked down a few crazy things.  That said, the sailing of the HMS Bro Fest is right up there.  I’m alone on this luxury houseboat with Captain Knong, Pham Hoa,and Jerry?  Yep.  Jerry.  We have spent most of the day bonding and doing Vietnamese man things, like sleeping, drinking and pulling up our shirts to cool our bellies. .  All in all not a bad time but now we are past the formalities of crew and passenger and are now yachting around Ha Long Bay meeting up with their old friends and family.    Again not a bad thing at all.  This has to be one of the most beautiful places on earth.   Captain Khong has taken it upon himself to solve my perceived loneliness problem by stopping occasionally at the floating vendors and inquiring if anyone is free.  I have tried to explain to him that I am just fine and realize the whole scene seems a little bizarre but it’s all good.  Judging from the tats on  the Captains back, he may have a few VC in the family.  Best to hope he runs out of vendors I think.  

If you ever get a chance to come to Ha Long Bay I would recommend the friendlies at Eco Friendly Vietnam.  They have done what they said they would do and make a great lunch and dinner.  A safe harbor tonight and some man talk I’m sure.  I just won’t be able to understand a word of it.

Hanoi Happy

I’m still in love with Hanoi.  It was a crazy good day.  I did the “be nice to me day”.  Got a shave and a massage along with some great food.  No, the massage was not one of those.  It was amazing really but extremely comical too.  This young lady reminded me of the little Chinese guy in the movie, “Oceans Eleven”.  You know the guy that folds himself into a box.  She was one enormous 90 pound muscle packed into some pink silk pajamas.  I admit I had to “tap out” a couple of times in the process but what was funny was just the normal things you take for granted when you share a language.  Things like sit here?  Sit up?  roll over?  What the hell is in that little box?  These stones are cooking my back?  you know stuff like that.  It was an experience that I won’t forget.  The diving drop kick knee in the back pressure point back karate chop is forever etched in my mind.  I can say that I was a little nervous at first but it turned out to be very nice.  I’m not sure if you are supposed to be limping when you leave a massage in Vietnam but I am going to assume it was a good thing.  

The shave was a little harder to find.  Well, there are guys out on the street that cut hair and do shaves but I was a little concerned about the quality and sterility of their razors.  I found a little woman who performed my shave with a cell phone stuck into her ear the entire time.   There was a little hint of fear as she got the straight razor on my neck.  Considering what was done to these wonderful people by a misguided ideology....one couldn’t really blame her for settling an old score.  Luckily, she was much more forgiving that most people. 

Tomorrow it’s back on the street and a few sights.  Then it’s off to Ha Long Bay and my romantic private houseboat trip  Solo.  What was I thinking?