Let me tell you about crossing the border into Vietnam from Cambodia - all the rumors about thefts, money scams, bad drivers, etc. are untrue, or at least for us they were. We booked with Giant Ibis, the newest and better of the numerous bus options. We enjoyed a free croissant, water, semi reclining chairs, adequate AC, and a smooth ride. Yes, we were asked for a $2 fee from the bus attendant to help us get our passports processed faster at both borders, but what is $2 against possibly being left at a border, given dirty looks, holding up the other passengers, and essentially being a cheap ass?
We only encountered one hiccup, which turned our 6.5 hour journey into a 9 hour journey (although traffic probably accounted for an hour of that time); the Mekong Express VIP bus was the other bus we considered taking across the border, but as it attempted to cross into Vietnam, drugs were found stuffed into a DVD player and all buses were grounded. Some poor, crying woman was hauled away for questioning, saying the DVD player was picked up at the duty free store, but this was all Cambodian hearsay. Either way, the Mekong Express was not going anywhere for a while and all the passengers were throughly rechecked for illegal substances.
When we reached HCMC, we safely walked a kilometer to our hotel - Saigon Bed Station - having proudly crossed multiple streets and a roundabout without getting flattened by one of 50 motorbikes, 10 cars, or 2 buses coming at you from all directions. The trick is to find a 1 second break in the traffic, make semi eye contact with the vehicles approaching, and continue forward at a slow, continually pace. Motorbikes will ride around you, but cars will run you over, so you have to hang out in the middle of the road until they pass.
The tiny buildings of Ho Chi Minh City with a lite amount of traffic.
After dropping our bags, we climbed to the top of the hotel - all five, tiring stories - to do free, much needed laundry. While all the past week’s grime was being rinsed away, we found the first hair salon on the street and asked for a shampoo. Vietnam is known for their scalp massaging hair shampoos that last about 45 minutes and leave your luscious locks feeling silky soft and truly clean. The massage was relaxing and helps promote hair growth.
Getting my hair did!
The only thing I didn’t like was the added Facial. There’s nothing like laying down with your eyes closed, relaxing to fingers running through your hair, and then, without warning, a powerful torrent of water is flowing towards your unprotected nose and mouth. I swear my blood pressure shot through the roof and all the relaxation accomplished by the scalp massage turned into extreme anxiety. I think next time I will play it safe and skip the facial.
With newly cleaned hair, we happily climbed the 100 stairs to the laundry with hopes of switching the clothes to the dryer. At the top, we discovered that the washer had stopped mid-Spin Cycle and all our clothes were stewing in a large puddle of water. The hotel girl couldn’t reset the washer and insisted that the dryer could handle drying sopping wet cotton in 30 minutes. She was very wrong; 30 minutes later I pulled out hot, mildewing pants that left a puddle when handled.
Robby managed to get the washer spinning again, squeezing out most of the excess water, and allowing the clothes to properly dry in the dryer. We had just enough time to wander down the small alley the hotel is located in and find a seafood restaurant still open. Yummy looking mussels we’re cooking on a grill and lots of people where sitting at tables in a metal-walled courtyard. We ordered two types of scallops, which tasted like mussels, and tried the recommended coconut snail soup. Surprisingly, the coconut broth was what started to gross us out after eating half the soup, rather than the snails - which tasted like the coconut broth, but had a consistency of a chewy mushroom. All in all, we had a good day.
Aside from my “not-sure-if-I’m-grossed-out” look, the snails were tasty.
The following morning, we started our 2 day Mekong River tour in a small, cramped bus that left Ho Chi Minh City and drove 4.5 hours to Can Tho, with various stops along the way. There were about 18 of us from all over the world, stuffed in the mini bus as we swereved our way through morning rush hour and out to a Buddhist Temple with a long sleeping (but really dead, according to our tour guide) Buddha. It wasn’t as impressive as the Sleeping Buddha in Cambodia, but it was next to a pretty temple where local monks were eating breakfast.
Sleeping (or dead) Buddha.
Buddha alter inside the Temple.
We continued on to a coconut candy factory where child laborers individually wrapped all the candies we bought for the price of their daily salaries. The candy was tasty, but the factory is mainly funded through tourism and everyone working there puts on a show of authenticity to help “sell” the products. It didn’t help that later in the evening we were promised a visit with a live python, but we ended up sitting through a live info commercial about why bamboo is better than cotton; complete with a demonstration of soy sauce being spilled on a bamboo dish towel and then rinsed out “with only water”. It was ridiculous, so I walked out.
Kid individually wrapping coconut candy.
We visited Unicorn Island, didn’t see a unicorn or anything unicorn-esque, but we got to hop in a 4 person canoe and be rowed by locals through 3-foot deep muddy, brown water. It was semi relaxing, but the river was only wide enough for 2.5 canoes and as we drifted down stream, a line of tourist-empty canoes rowed up stream, hitting our canoe every chance they got. Two of the canoes got stuck in the mud and had to have a boater jump in the river to pull them out. At the end, our oarsman tapped us on the back until we tipped him. I’m all for supporting locals, but I hate being pressured into giving them tips, especially if I’ve already paid a large fee to come on the tour in the first place. Plus, tips are for people who do well or did something extraordinary, not because it’s the social norm to expect money every time you do your job- that’s called a salary.
I’m on a boat! Riding down the Mekong!
Narrow river of the Mekong.
On another island, we learned about making honey tea and then all the amazing benefits that honey can do for you as the tea maker peddled honey infused chapstick, body balm, and actual honey at us. The tea was good though. Four feet down the road, we listened to live Vietnamese singers while having more tea. We thought it was honey tea again, but after one sip, we started to call it massage tea - taste like coconut massage oil in tea form. So gross. The “tea” was accompanied with strange, water flavored green fruit you eat with a salt and spice mix. We made one of the Brits on the tour try it, but he didn’t hear that it was spicy, so he covered his fruit in the mix and took a huge bite. His face turned green and he ran to find a cold beer as an apologize to his tastebuds.
We had lunch at a weird island place that had rusted out exercise games reminiscent of Japan’s MXC TV show where people ran around wearing furry costumes and being hit with flying fruit while they crossed a rope bridge over crocodile infested water. One tourist tried to walk the rope bridge, but it was not as taunt as he expected, so when he was halfway across, he found himself knee deep in murky water. Robby, Sven (Belgium friend we met on the tour who does not resemble a Reindeer), and I made it 2 rungs up the helicopter rope before giving up and sneaking into the no go area to climb a rusty staircase with a platform that lead nowhere and had no railings for safety. We captured cool photos and probably contracted Tetanus.
Robby standing on rusted steps to nowhere.
We spent the night in Can Tho, at the tour company’s hotel (go figure), but had an amazing time exploring the vibrant downtown with Sven and a Tanzanian, Duddha. We got a ride to the Night Market and ate octopus balls and veggies meat sticks while sitting in ankle high kiddie chairs surrounded by barbecue grill smoke. Some Vietnamese girls asked us where we were from and how we liked their country before asking to pose with us in numerous photos. They were very nice, so we obliged.
Since the Night Market sold a lot of animal innards, feet, and unidentifiable parts, we bought beer from a fruit seller on the corner and wandered down back alleys looking for edible cuisine; all the while cheers-ing anyone we saw with a beer. We ended up walking through a wedding where everyone wanted to clink glasses and hug us. We were invited to sit, but food was calling our names, so we continued on. Duddha and I briefly tried to take on a small soccer team, but they were too good at playing keep away, that we gave up.
Woman in peace selling her meat.
We eventually found a sweet potato French fry stand where Robby ordered sweet/spicy fries that were just one spice too inedible for me. The boys found Banh Mi’s, traditional Vietnamese sandwiches on a fresh baguette. We ended the evening outside our hotel drinking beer with the Brits, watching our tour guide, Ruby, play empty beer can Janga with Brit Paul. Day one of the tour was a super commercialize, none realistic approach to rural life in Vietnam, but our evening wandering Can Tho and making friends with other members of the group, made the trip worth it.
Ruby playing beer Janga with Brit Joe.
We woke up early on Day 2 so we could see the floating market: numerous small boats floating on the water selling produce, vegetables, and supplies to other boaters from about 5am-10am. While we floated past the various fruit and veggie laden boats, vendors moored to the side of our boat and shouted their products, “coconut”, “jack fruit”, “tea”, “banana”, etc. It was fun to look at their merchandise, point to what you wanted, and hand over some bills while they passed you a hot cup of coffee or a cut up mango. The Vietnamese on the tour loved the Pho, Vietnamese noodle soup, and bought tons of it. It smelled delicious and looked great, but consisted of liver, tripe, beef, and other gross stuff.
Pho lady.
Fruit anyone?
We docked against a pineapple boat and were allowed to climb aboard to watch the lady cut up the fruit, and of course, buy some. Very sweet and juicy, perfect for breakfast. After the market, we docked at a fruit orchard with a “Monkey Bridge” that everyone took photos on. The single bamboo bridged arched over a pond with very feisty cat fish. We keep joking that they were piranhas because they would swarm and jump if anything fell in the water. The orchard invited us to sit in the shade and to buy fruit. Afterwards, we briefly stopped at a noodle factory, similar to the coconut factory in being “manufactured”, although, Robby got to make a noodle that looked like a pancake, so that was cool.
Robby and I with Sven, Duddha, and Ruby (our tour leader).
Pineapple vendor.
The boat tour ended back where the Night Market was held, but looked like an empty street during the day. We waited 10 minutes for our tour bus to arrive, just to be driven 100 yards up the street to stop for lunch. Most of us were like, “why didn’t we walk?”. Lunch was of course in a price-elevated restaurant that served small portions, but it was at least tasty. After lunch we said goodbye to the Brits and the Vietnamese tourists, who were heading on to Phnom Penh, and spread out on the bus for the 5 hour ride back to Ho Chi Minh City. No more knees in my chest and Robby pressed against my side, I got to stretch my legs, along with everyone else, us all having our own row of seats.
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