19-20
November 2017 (Sunday and Monday)
I park
my car at work around 8:00 a.m. on Sunday.
The shuttle driver is early, and I’m his last pick up. So I arrive at LAX with time to spare. Just how I like it.
I
mention to the agent at China Southern Airlines that this will be my longest
flight to date, and he offers me an emergency exit row for the 14-hour flight. Much more leg room and ready access to the
aisles and bathrooms. Score.
I sleep
much of the way. I can’t read without
dozing, so my book, Why Does The World Exist? by Jim Holt, goes untouched. The provided headphones are impossible. I can’t hear dialogue clearly. I try watching “The Trip to Italy” but haven’t
a clue what they’re saying. Instead I
watch “Guardians of the Galaxy,” because I’ve seen it already.
The
flight to Guangzhou goes on and on. At
the 7½ hour mark I realize I’m only half way there.
We land
in southern China 15 minutes late due to turbulence en route, so it’s a frantic
scramble for the connecting flight to Ho Chi Minh City (aka Saigon). That flight is delayed as well, so we arrive in
Vietnam around 10:30 p.m. local time on 20 November 2017. The customs line is a grind. Weary passengers (myself included) jockey
from one line to the next when the first line stalls.
Our tour
manager Hai meets us outside baggage claim.
My luggage arrives without incident.
The next day I learn that an elderly Chinese woman on my flight had her
luggage left in Guangzhou. (Happy ending
– the luggage arrives the next day.)
While waiting for the tour group to gather a pleasant taxi driver tries
to drum up business. He seems unable (or
unwilling) to grasp that each of us already have transportation to the hotel.
Check in
at the Saigon Prince Hotel is quick, but I dread the 6:00 a.m. wake up call
(it’s 2:00 a.m. when I crawl into bed) in order to make breakfast before the
early morning tour of the Cu Chi Tunnels.
Not sure
if it’s the jet lag or the constant sleeping/dozing on the flights but my sleep
is restless. Also it takes me several
tries to figure out the A/C in the room.
Despite sweltering temps outside my room is chilly. My foot keeps cramping. I get about 2 hours of sleep on and off before
the wake-up call at 5:45 a.m.(?)! I
showered the night before; otherwise I would have been very unhappy – and
smelly.
21
November 2017 (Tuesday)
Breakfast
is hearty. I’m famished and wolf down
eggs, noodles, beans, fruit and cereal with yogurt. I’m surprisingly bright-eyed and bushy-tailed
for the tour. We’re set to depart at
7:15 a.m. but delayed due to the elderly Chinese woman. Her son has to go to her room to fetch her.
The optional
Cu Chi Tunnels tour is the one I’m most interested in. The tunnels were used by the Viet Cong to
escape detection by South Vietnamese Army (SVA) and US forces. Our tour manager Hai is a Saigon native and
has very personal opinions about the war.
For him it was a great tragedy for the people of Vietnam. He believes the war has been misnamed. The least correct names (in his opinion) are
the Vietnam War (by the US) and the American War (by the Vietnamese). A more accurate term (again, in his opinion)
is the Civil War, but he prefers the term Ideological War -- a war to secure
power through ideology. He has no love
for the Viet Cong but he certainly (and justifiably) admires their strategy and
determination.
The Cu
Chi tour highlight is watching a Viet soldier drop down into a tunnel through a
tiny opening. I’m claustrophobic just
watching. We are offered a chance to
crawl 60 feet through a tunnel. I demur,
fearing a panic attack and unwilling to aggravate my bad right knee. A couple men younger and shorter than me
complain about the experience as they exit.
I made the smart move.
We drive
to Saigon for lunch and a brief city tour, which is anticlimactic after Cu Chi. Near tour’s end we stop at a local tile
manufacturer. I skip it and hang out at
a nearby park. Several tour members
express interest in the War Remnants Museum instead of visiting the local market. We alter the plan after a vote. A fortuitous decision as a heavy squall moves
in. The museum is harrowing, though certainly
lopsided in its viewpoint. It is the
unexpected highlight of the city tour.
******************************************************************************************
Side
Note: Hai explains that Vietnam is
divided into 3 regions. The southern
region, primarily the Mekong Delta and Saigon, represent the country’s
commerce. The central region with Hoi An
and Hue, represents the country’s culture.
And the northern region, primarily Hanoi, represents the country’s
political center.
******************************************************************************************
We have
a brief group meet and greet at the hotel, then off for dinner on our own. Across the street a music festival is about
to begin. The road is blocked off, so
it’s safer to walk. Pedestrians look for
a break in traffic then step into the road and press forward at a consistent
speed. Surprisingly no one seems to get
hit, though it’s disconcerting to have motorbikes weave around you. In a city of 12 million people there are 8 million
motorbikes, and most are on the road or parked on the sidewalk at any given
time.
I have a
filling meal of seafood noodles at Nha Hang Ngon, a restaurant specializing in street
food. Afterward I walk to the Rex Hotel
(recommended by a co-worker who had visited not long ago) and have a Saigon By
Night (the Vietnamese equivalent of a Mint Julep) at the rooftop bar. It’s easy to imagine diplomats after the heat
of the day plotting over drinks and dinner while enjoying the cooler evening
breeze. As I sip my drink a Viet band
play a guitar cover of Chris Isaak’s “Wicked Game.” As I leave they break into a rousing vocal
cover of Elton John’s “Crocodile Rock.”
The
street fair is in full swing as I make my way back to the hotel. Hai had mentioned earlier that Gate 1 tried
to get rooms at the Continental, but that hotel was full. As I ride up to the 8th floor I
still hear the pounding beat of the musical acts. Now it’s clear why the Continental was full and
the Royal Saigon not. The music ends
shortly after 10:00 p.m. It’s a school
night after all.
Before
bed I shower and start packing for tomorrow’s flight to Da Nang. I hope for more sleep tonight than last
night. Until tomorrow…
22
November 2017 (Wednesday)
I sleep
much better after mastering the temperature gauge in the room. After a hearty breakfast I finish packing
then check out. We bus to the airport
for the in country flight to Da Nang.
Traffic is lighter than before, and we make it in plenty of time. We check in as a group then wait. I grab an egg sandwich to stow in my bag
after Hai informs us that there may not be much time for lunch after we arrive.
During
the wait I chat with two couples from Flagstaff – Tom & Anne and Mike &
Lana. Tom had gained notoriety the day
before by wandering out of the Cu Chi site without telling anyone. His wife, Anne, and Hai looked all over for
him. After about 15 minutes the group
went outside to find Tom waiting by the bus.
Anne confirms this is not the first time Tom has gone missing. It will not be the last. I also chat with Ana Maria who, though nice,
announces that all news is biased and that Puerto Rico is not nearly as
devastated as media reports would have us believe. The reports are political. I consider mentioning that my boss’ sister
lives in Puerto Rico and can back up the reports but don’t feeling like having
that debate.
For the
1+ hour trip the inflight monitors play a French version of “Candid Camera”
over and over. The first 15 minutes are amusing,
but after 45 minutes the formula gets tired.
Somehow I manage to lose my water bottle while departing the plane.
As we
bus to Hoi An, the streets become narrower.
The region feels like a rustic version of the Napa Valley but with more
motorbikes, cyclos and bicycles. Or
Cambria with more humidity.
We
arrive at the Hoi An Trails Resort, a beautiful enclave off the bustling street
not far from Old Town. My room is
spacious, with floors of dark wood. It’s
far more space than I need. The rain
begins just in time for our Old Town walking tour.
I suspect
Hoi An at night has considerable charm.
However any charm is overwhelmed by the crush of tourists on foot,
motorbike, cyclo and bicycle. Add to
that all the oversized umbrellas for the rain, and you have the recipe for a circle
of Hell Dante might recognize. I miss
much of Hai’s narrative as I tried to dodge tourists and motorbikes on the
narrow streets. Inside it’s drier but
not much better. Sodden tourists crowd
like packed sardines. It’s a relief to
go out onto the rainy street to find our dinner spot.
Somewhere
between our last tour stop and the restaurant Tom disappears again, causing
much consternation. (It turns out that,
against Hai’s earlier admonition, Tom had stopped in a shop to buy a rain poncho. By the time he finished the transaction, the
group had disappeared up an alleyway.) Hai
and Anne spend much of the dinner looking off the balcony at the wet street
below. (After searching the streets for
some time Tom had taken a cab back to the hotel.) Hai gives Anne a takeaway meal for Tom.
The
dinner is lovely. I sit at a table with
two other non-meat eaters, Rike (pronounced “Ricky”) and Pam, which gives us
the opportunity to bond as such. There
is more political talk, so I tune out until the subject moves on. A significant reason to leave the U.S. for a
couple of weeks is to avoid exactly these types of conversations.
I am not
a mango fan, but the mango served with the dessert is stunning. I will now only eat mango in Vietnam. So I may never eat mango again.
Some
stay to explore Old Town while most head back to the hotel. Tomorrow is my food walking tour with XO
Tours. I’m to meet the tour guide at the
Hoi An Theater, so I ask Hai how far away it is. It’s in Hoi An proper (not Old Town), so I
will need to cab it. I will check with
reception tomorrow to arrange transportation.
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