Blog Posts - Worldly Gnome

Hanoi: Home of Uncle Ho

3/10/2015

Back in Hanoi we hit the ground hard. We went to visit Uncle Ho’s (Ho Chi Minh) Mausoleum. He was just as Wolfgang had described, a bit waxy and very small. It was very interesting to compare his mausoleum to that of Mao Tse-tung. Both look amazingly life like, yet there is a lot more pomp and circumstance surrounding Mao’s remains. Don’t plan on visiting Uncle Ho during October or November because that is when he is sent to Russia for maintenance. I really would love to witness that procession.

After the big visit, we saw the Presidential Palace, Ho Chi Minh’s significantly more modest personal dwelling, and the Temple of Literature. In the evening we all went to a water puppet show, enjoyed a walk around West Lake, attempted to get a “non-happy-ending massage” (we met a drunk German who really wanted Maya and I to go get a drink so the guys could “enjoy” a massage), and had a lovely meal. It was a perfect end to a month long journey with my siblings. It is funny how whenever you are in a tough moment like the epic overnight bus ride, you don’t necessarily enjoy yourself. Yet looking back, I am thankful for everything we went through. I am thankful for the people like Nguyet and the beauty of Hoi’An. I am thankful for the falling ceiling having proved Newton’s theory of gravity and the horrible cruise. It was an epic journey and one we will always look back on fondly. I love you guys and wish you could have continued on with me. Thanks for coming along for the ride and for making me laugh. Till our next family adventure…

High Altitude Life in Sapa

3/10/2015

Sapa is a scenic town in Northwestern Vietnam just 40 km south of the Chinese border. The town is nestled in the high peaks of the Hoang Lien Son mountain range and has commanding views of the valley and rice terraces below. In my opinion it is one of the top must-see places in Vietnam. We had originally booked a tour through Ocean Tours, but obviously got out of that and I am glad we did. Most people book tours starting in Hanoi for about 150 USD. If you do the trip on your own it will cost around 100 and will be on your own schedule.

We did another lovely night train during which I jostled awake and groggily started packing up at 1:30 am. My fellow cabin mates tried to tell me that it in fact wasn’t time to get up, but I didn’t process what they were saying. The train station is about an hour away from Sapa itself and requires a van ride for 50,000 Dong. On the ride we met a very friendly couple from San Francisco whom we later ran into at the Hill Station where we shared dinner. In town we found a hotel and ate breakfast from its restaurant while taking in the views. Unfortunately, this was a fateful meal. Tim and Maya got food poisoning and not the friendly kind. It was bad. Really, really, really bad. So they stayed in the hotel for a day and a half. The other two of us joined the Sapa Sisters for a tour through the villages of Lai Chau, Ta Van, and Giang Ta Chai. The first two villages were depressingly touristy. We were followed the all the way from the first village to the second and slightly harassed by Hmong women trying to sell their scarves. It was the trek from the second village to the third that is worth writing home about. We were far enough out that there were no other tourists and the path opened up to Sapa’s famous rice terraces.

We passed two brothers playing with a wheel barrow and they followed us for a while. They were even excited to do a jump shot with me. We passed water buffalo and view after beautiful view. Then we came along an entire village out collecting bamboo. Our guide told us that twice a year each village goes out for two days to collect wood. Everyone is involved even six year olds. I was shocked to see eight year old girls with baskets strapped to their backs hauling 30 kg of bamboo. At one point two girls stopped to take a break next to where we were sitting. When they got up they just starting running down the hill in their oversized rain boots in an attempt to keep momentum. The guide explained that they would do about six trips up into the hills in one day. What I did notice was that the boys were off having bamboo wars. Apparently, the hard labor is considered to be more of a girl’s job than a boy’s… gender equality has a ways to go here.

I asked about how the Vietnam War impacted the region and our guide said that it was a safe place during that time, but in 1979 China invaded and killed 3,000 people. China targeted Vietnamese people and not the Hmong because the Hmong people emigrated from China and are of Chinese descent themselves. There were even instances where Vietnamese people hid with the Hmong and China let them be. We then discussed the many diverse tribes of the region. Most moved from China during the time of the Mongol invasions while others came from Thailand. The two tribes we met were the Black Hmong and the Red Dzao. They have very distinctive traditional clothing and different languages. The Red Dzao wear brilliant red head dresses and the Black Hmong wear hemp clothing dyed with local indigo.

Another interesting thing I learned from my guide was what the average woman’s life is like amongst the tribes. Many women get married as young as 15 and by the time they are 22 they normally have 3 or 4 children. On their standards I am an old maid. Most spend their time in the rice fields and dying hemp and cloth. Our guide is the envy of her village. She was the youngest of her family and was able to study both English and Vietnamese at school. Her language skills have given her a way out of peddling handicrafts to tourists. She plans to only have two children and hopes for them to study in a school in Sapa. She was a fun person to spend a day with and she made me think about how lucky I am to be a woman from where I am from. Thanks Mom and Dad for making my education possible. It has made the world of difference.

Once back in the hotel Tim and Maya told us about the bothersome construction that took place all day. We felt sympathetic, but it wasn’t until the next day that I would realize how bad it had been. I was standing in my room when all of a sudden there was jack hammering right above my head. Man was it loud! And then there was a crash and the floor shook. My immediate thought was, “It isn’t possible to get out in time. This level is going to give.” I honestly thought the building was collapsing. My flight or fight response kicked in and I ran to the door. The window shattered and a huge pile of bricks lay all over the floor. The ceiling of the balcony had collapsed and had come flying through the window. The workers immediately entered with smirks and just giggled a little. The situation wasn’t funny and fortunately the manager took it more seriously. Between the near death experience and the food poisoning she gave us the two nights free. Yet, another unforgettable experience.

Visit Sapa and you won't be disappointed!

The Three Hour (Day) Tour: Halong Bay

3/3/2015

It was finally time for us to head to the north. We had two options to pay 53 USD for a train or 63 USD for a plane. Having done every other form of transit in Vietnam already, it was time to pay a little bit more to fly. We arrived in Hanoi painlessly and promptly sought out other foreigner travelers to share a cab with. Richard, an accountant from London, kindly offered for us to join him in the car his hotel was sending. When I approached him, he was having a bit of a frustrating conversation with a man holding a sign with RICHARD on it. The man couldn’t tell him which hotel he was with. In the end we decided that he was there for another Richard and we all just piled into a taxi van. My American vocabulary tickled Richard and we had a lovely conversation on our way into town. Hopefully, I will be able to meet him during the Europe leg of my journey.

Street photography took up most of the rest of the day along with figuring out which tour company to book for Halong Bay. I have to say Hanoi is one of the best cities I have ever been in for street photography. The streets are narrow and filled to the brim with merchants wearing conical hats hawking their produce and steaming hot dishes. The facades of many buildings are crumbling while absurd amounts of electrical wires precariously dangle at head level. For those of you unaware, my brother has instigated a photography contest. Throughout our time together he has made several comments that he regrets giving me the bazooka (my huge lens) and claims every good shot I get is due to my hardware and not my talent (jerk). I am not even going to waste my breath debating this with him. I am just going to leave it up to the final results, which I foresee falling in my favor J.

Early the next morning we joined our tour group of 9 people on the Ocean Tours Bus. I instantly knew this group of people were going to be special. There was Morgan (Canadian) and Mae (American) traveling together. They are both around my age and like-minded travelers. Then there was Ole and Ane, a hilariously outgoing couple originally from Denmark who now reside in North Carolina. Other than our group of four there was the German, Wolfgang. Wolfgang was the quiet lone wolf, who ended up being funny and an ally. The tour started off on a high note. Everyone was chatting in our spacious private bus on the way to Halong Bay. Our tour guide, Tim, called for our attention to give us some of the history of Vietnam. He was a kind guy and tried really hard, but his bad jokes fell on absent ears and unfortunately his English was draining to follow. Nonetheless throughout our day and a half with him he would provide several humorous moments involving taekwondo and robotic dance moves.

Our first boat was named the Margarite. She had a nice deck on top, hard beds, and as my brother would say, “curtains the 60’s want back.” Each meal was made up of around four courses and being a vegetarian one course for me was always French fries. I don’t know if French fries are a fair substitute for squid, but I appreciate the effort. Our evening was made up of squid fishing, absurd Vietnamese dancing, a birthday surprise for Ane, and a sad example of a cooking class. The squid fishing was entertaining, yet what it really was was tourist babysitting. If you don’t want to entertain your tourists, give them poles, turn on a bright light, and tell them to catch squid. Several of us were very determined to snag one and in the end failed horribly. Some of us stayed up to watch the Vietnam episode of Top Gear. It is worth a watch.

The next morning we woke up early for a Tai Chi class. The instructor was late, so Tim (the tour guide) brought it upon himself to teach us something. What ensued was a lot of high kicks and taekwondo punches. Unfortunately, he didn’t want us to immolate him because the astroturf on the roof of the boat was too slick with morning dew. Finally the Tai Chi teacher arrived and with no explanation led us through slow movements. The entire group moved in opposite directions and wondered to ourselves if getting up early was worth the five minute class. This was followed by breakfast and a kayak trip through a floating fishing village. This was interesting because recently the Vietnamese government passed a law stating that the 1,500 people living in Halong Bay had to move to the mainland due to the pollution they were creating. We visited the remnants of one of their villages. Kayaking was fun and I made my guide nervous every time I ventured too far which would result in him speaking rapidly into a loud speaker with a Cartman like voice. If you ever go to Halong Bay, I wouldn’t recommend swimming in it. There was a lot of debris floating in the water and we paddled through many oil spots. Back on the boat we had another nice meal and said good bye to Cartman… I mean Tim.

I would like for you to preemptively note the exponential decline of the quality of this trip. The only thing that remained constant was the high quality of the companionship of our fellow travelers. Morgan and Mae met in New Zealand and entertained us with stories from their time there. Ole and Ane shared there abundant travel stories and told us about their past jobs. Ole did his doctoral dissertation in Norway researching how people moving away from small towns and villages impacts the community they leave behind. Wolfgang told us about his trip around SE Asia and even brought us to tears imitating Uncle Ho.

At this point we boarded a smaller boat from which we were to kayak, rock climb, and explore a couple beaches. We didn’t rock climb or explore beaches, but we did go to a pearl farm where the boat owner had the potential to get a kick back if we purchased something. We were not impressed. It was interesting though to see the workers “impregnate” the oysters. They harvested small pieces of pearl producing tissue from living oysters (killing them in the process) and transplanted them into the uteruses of other oysters. Along with this tissue they would place a small man made pearl. They did all of this so that the core of the pearl would be perfectly round and the pearl producing tissue would attach to the uterus and allow the pearl to continue to form safe and sound away from the mouth of the oyster where it would naturally develop. We re-boarded our boat, had lunch, and then kayaked yet again. This kayak adventure was unique because we went through several caves and took in some beautiful scenery. The tide was going out so we actually were beached amongst oyster carcasses and in the process of freeing ourselves we most likely flung feces from chlamydia infested birds all over our arms and legs. Besides that part, kayaking was very nice. This second ship was a mid-ranked boat as far as quality. It was definitely a step down from our “luxury” boat. What left a sour taste in our mouth was that the sleazy boat owner charged us 50,000 per beer and 30,000 per cup of Lipton tea. This was way more than the going rate on land. It is also important to remember that we paid 195 dollars for this trip. A cup of Lipton should be included!

We were then shuffled off our midrange boat to what I loving refer to as the Crap Shack. Now Halong Bay tours are notorious for showing you pictures of THE boat you will stay on and then after one day they switch you to a cheaper crappier boat. This is why many people suggest paying the big bucks (165-200) to go with a luxury cruise. Midrange cruises cost around 110-145 and backpacker cruises cost 25-95. Thus what we signed up for is considered a luxury cruise in which we shouldn’t have switched boats. We had to duck to get onboard and were immediately greeted by a thirty something wearing a pirate hat. He was our new guide and offered us to pick one of the multi-colored straws sitting in a bucket of hard booze. It was at this point that the old-souled twenty somethings of the group glanced at Ole who just raised an eyebrow. It was understood that all of us were thinking, “REALLY?!” We were also informed that we would be waiting 45 minutes (it was an hour and a half) for another boatload of people to go kayaking. We patiently waited and chatted amongst ourselves and then the other boatload arrived. They were the party going backpacker crowd and just didn’t fit with our calm nonsmoking vibe. The guide with the pirate hat did his best to get us to mingle, but oil and water just don’t mix.

The 3 hour ride to land was rough. A few minutes in I made the depressing realization that there were only a few decrepit life vests. I imagined Maya floating on a door and my brother romantically shoving her off so he could crawl on as she sunk into the frigid water. This obviously is over exaggerating the situation, but it wasn’t the safest voyage. The ship did not feel seaworthy and my normally strong stomach was doing summersaults. As we approached our “private island” it became clear that actually getting to land was going to be absurdly difficult. You would think that paying a luxury rate would ensure the older passengers less stressful transitions between land and sea, but you would be wrong. The backpackers were all taken to land first in a small tugboat. Our group then piled in. I was the last to board. As I ducked my head to enter, the group burst out into laughter. It was like a cartoon. Everyone was so crammed in that there just wasn’t room for me. We rose and dipped with the waves as we passed a half sunken ship, which wasn’t very reassuring. At the pier, I was the first off the boat and the guide warned me that it was slippery. He wasn’t kidding. I ate it and slammed my toes into a mysterious black goo. The goodness Ole was able to get off without incident.

The tour company had really pushed the fact that they own this island and that we would be the only people on it. An oasis away from other tour groups is what they called it. We were to have a nice meal and then a bonfire. Well, we walked up to the 80s shabby sheek shell covered main building and found a disco ball going and blaring music, so we all went in search of our bungalows. I was fortunate enough to be awarded the honeymoon suite. It came with the extra benefit of a shower in the middle of the room right next to the bed, but what really made this room special was a surprise deposit made on the mattress. Please make your own assessment of the mysterious fluid pictured above. Let’s just say that when I showed that picture to the Ocean Tours salesman, he played stupid to the fact that it most likely came from a male’s body.

Several of the group got food poisoning from oysters. The others hiked up to the top of the island’s hill and checked out the view. Then it was time to go again. So in groups of two or three we took turns boarding a woven basket dingy. As we were rowed to our tugboat, which would take us to the neighboring island of Cat Ba, an additional worker was continuously bailing water. We then had to ungracefully transfer from the dingy to the tugboat. The tugboat rode the swells to Cat Ba and pulled up to the pier. Again, getting some of our party on land was sketchy and involved them crawling on their hands and knees. This was followed by a local bus ride across the island. The bus didn’t have AC and the roof vents were open to the point where a large branch was able to lodge itself into the bus. To cut my complaining short (for the record I find this all pretty funny), we then took a speed boat to the mainland.

Once on the mainland I figured that things couldn’t get any worse, but alas whenever you think that it does. The luxury bus we had come on had been replaced by a dirty minivan on which all the backpackers were already packed. The last four of our group to board, including myself, were given the fold down seats which are crooked at a 45 degree angle. I couldn’t put the back up on my chair for the sake of my sibling’s knees. The driver wouldn’t stop for one of our group to use the restroom, but did make a pit stop so he himself could pee on the side of the road. Classy. Thus, we all sat crammed in for the four hour trip back to Hanoi.

Back in Hanoi the We Cheated Death Crew, were all riled up. We were angry we had spent so much money for a typically atrocious tour of Halong Bay. As a united front we went into the office and stood side-by-side as my brother asked the Ocean Tours manager if he would like to write down our feedback on the cruise. We painstakingly described the trip in detail and informed him that what we had experienced was unacceptable. I like to think it was my picture of mysterious goo that got us 50 dollars back each, but in reality it was Wolfgang who brought it into home. He stood up and said, “That’s enough. What is your decision? Will you have us write negative reviews on Trip Advisor, Lonely Planet, and Fodor’s?” Wolfgang’s look of triumph was priceless and will forever put a smile on my face. Not only had we survived together, but we had been reimbursed together.

In the end I would sign up for that same tour all over again just for the sake of the friendships that I made. I am thankful for my fellow death defying crew members and hope to see them all again in the future under safer circumstances. If you were a member of this motley crew, please make an effort to stay in touch.

Baby Mustard: A Culinary Trip Through Hoi'An

2/24/2015

Hoi ’An was by far the best place to spend the Tet holiday and thus far has been our favorite place in Vietnam. We spent a day at the “Hidden” Beach just down from Cua Dai Beach. All that was there was one restaurant and a few other tourists reclining on sunbeds. I would recommend reaching it by bike and not on foot. Then we spent a day biking through the rice paddy fields surrounding the city and taking in the scenic views. Each day we spent a good amount of time at one of two restaurants, Morning Glory and Baby Mustard.

The next day’s sites were a disappointment, but my brother provided us some great entertainment. He had never driven a scooter before and allowed us all to be there for his maiden voyage. We rented scooters from the hotel to go to Marble Mountain (not worth the trip). Tim practiced a bit before Maya jumped on the back. Luckily, I caught the whole thing on video and hope to share it on here once I update my site. Watching the video back made me cringe because you can see the moment that he injured his hip and knee. The first turns you make on a scooter can be tough and his were. Once on the road he did fine. We got to the hill, I mean mountain, and debated if it was even worth paying the foreigner rate to climb to the top. Maya and I did. Of course Maya didn’t have to pay, since everyone thinks she is Vietnamese. There were some caves, a temple, and a pagoda. We didn’t have time to explore all the caves, but one of them was pretty interesting. Supposedly during the war it was used as a Vietcong hospital. Now the cave has many shrines with candles adorning all four walls. Back in the city we celebrated that we had all survived the day’s trip.

Maya and I spent the next day at our favorite restaurant, Baby Mustard, for a half day cooking class. The owner is a 25 year old woman named Nguyet (“Wit”) and she is so full of life. We enjoyed her personality and company just as much as the cooking. We started off going to the day market where she taught us how to select shrimp (If they are clear, it means they are from that day’s catch), what fruits and herbs can be combined for different remedies, and just general knowledge about the produce we saw. Back at her restaurant she gave us a tour of the property which produces all the restaurant’s herbs and many of its vegetables. All I can say is I hope I can grow lemon grass, lemon basil, and Thai basil when I get home. She taught me how to make vegetarian Banh Xeo (Vietnamese pancakes), lotus stuffed tofu, and water spinach. Maya learned how to make traditional Banh Xeo, a chicken dish, and barbeque pork. After each dish we sat and ate our creations. Nguyet’s mother delivered a “secret” drink containing passion fruit and basil seeds, and we took in the peaceful surroundings with our new friend. She spoke a mile a minute and told us about her excitement over being 3.5 months pregnant, how her parents were worried she was getting married too young (she got married 4 months ago), and how she thinks her husband is strict but she is still free in her mind. The farm and land on which the restaurant sits belongs to her parents, so she splits her profits with them. Her staff includes her aunt, grandmother, brother, and mother. She learned traditional cooking from her grandmother and modern cooking from her father. She feels her restaurant is a fusion of the two. It is so impressive what she has created. The restaurant is beautiful and has the most peaceful ambience. It is obvious she dedicates a lot of time to ensuring her food is fresh and high quality. She is phenomenal.

While we made the Vietnamese pancakes she explained that 100 grams of meat would be divided up into pancakes to feed 6 Vietnamese people. At her restaurant she serves about 100 grams for one person, since she knows we are meat crazy in the west. She said she had one customer complain that the 100 grams of fish in his soup wasn’t enough. The pancakes that Maya was making had so much shrimp and pork on Vietnamese standards that Nguyet called them luxury pancakes. It goes to show you that many of the traditional recipes were created out of necessity and limited resources.

Later that day we met Maya down town after a bike ride. Since she didn’t have a bike, she needed to ride on the back of Tim’s. It was absolutely hilarious to witness my brother’s potential to bare offspring decrease as he jostled down the street with his wife half-hazardly burrowed into his back. The entire ride home they wobbled along taking all turns at an abnormally wide berth. Once back at the hotel there was another cause for celebration.

Our last day before taking a taxi to Da Nang, we stopped in to have one last meal with Nguyet. She was shocked to see us and sat with us for almost two hours. Maya and Tim kept saying, “This is a Go Pro moment.” I wish I had that conversation on film. She was so open and honest. She told us how she got pregnant within a week of being married. Before the wedding she tried to ask her mother and friends about sex and all of them couldn’t offer her any guidance. She didn’t know how things worked and supposedly her husband didn’t either. I don’t think I can do her justice by writing down the conversation. She didn’t sound ridiculous, just innocent and oh so cute.

Her mother got pregnant at 19, before getting married. Nguyet grew up believing that her parents had only done the deed once. It wasn’t until she was married that her husband told her that many things her parents had told her weren’t true. She feels she has a new mind now that she went to university and has gotten married. Many of the naiveties of childhood have been thrown out. She giggled and explained that in Vietnam people believe it is important for a man to love a woman less than 50% in his heart, 80% in his mind, and 100% in his special region. That one almost brought Maya to tears. I guess the rationale is that love in the heart will fade and then the man may leave you. We covered a lot of ground in two hours, but the part of the conversation about sex was really interesting. She insinuated that her mother-in-law had to give her husband guidance in how to perform and how to make things “good” for her. She said that their honeymoon was like a fun job and that at one point she just said, “That’s enough.” The overall impression was that sex education isn’t a thing here and that local traditions and superstitions are still taken very seriously.

It seemed that there are very strict roles wives must fill. Now that she is married her in-laws want her to dress fashionably, wear make-up, and to give birth specifically to a boy first. If she has a girl, her parents will become wealthy. If she has a boy, her in-laws will become wealthy. Her in-laws found it unacceptable for the new couple to live with her parents, so they are forced to live in a house independently of her family even though their house is on the property next to the restaurant. It sounds like the in-laws are more demanding than I would put up with. She spoke of the fact that as a child she was only allowed to wear white and now that she is married she wears different colors, but only the clothes her husband picks. Amongst all these rules and restrictions, her bright independence still shines through. She winked and said, “I am sassy. I don’t care what clothes go on my body. I don’t need make-up!”

Hoi'An provided us with a relaxing atmosphere full of good food. In the end it was Nguyet that made our time so special. I am glad my brother and sister were here to share it.

Hoi'An: A Tet Adventure

2/23/2015

Hoi ’An was an important trading hub from the 16th to 19th Century. In 1999, the town’s ancient quarter was declared a UNESCO World Heritage Site. Long ago the town was home to a community of Japanese merchants. In 1663, the Tokugawa Shogun Iemitsu demanded all Japanese cease trading overseas and thus pulled the community back to Japan. These merchants left their mark on the town and overtime the Japanese style mingled with the Chinese influence from the large Chinese community. Fast forward to the days of Indochina and France brought its own style as well. The architecture in itself is worth a visit, but then you add in the tranquil presence of the Thu Bon River, white sand beaches, and the surrounding rice paddies to make Hoi ‘An a joyous part of your Vietnam tour. Of note is the city’s prominence as the tailoring capital of Vietnam. It is possible to have a tailored suit made for around 200 USD. We looked into it, but felt too many of the tailors were geared towards tourists and weren’t offering fair prices.

We arrived in Hoi ‘An without a hitch and were just in time to go down town for dinner before the New Year festivities. Tet is the Vietnamese Lunar New Year and is the most important holiday of the year. Many businesses shut down for 3 to 10 days. Before Tet many people who work in the economic powerhouse of Ho Chi Minh City, move north to go back to their home villages. Once home most of their time revolves around eating with loved ones, cleaning the graves of ancestors, and small activities that are believed to bring luck for the New Year and to expel the bad luck from the previous. For example, people will buy a specific type of leaf and wrap them in paper. These leaves will be kept in the home for the entire year. The leaves you buy will determine your luck for the year and absorb bad luck, extracting it from your home. During Tet the leaves from the previous year are burned in an act of burning the bad luck. There is so much superstition around Tet that vendors are also willing to give you better deals in hope that the sale will bring them financial good luck for the year. Prices jump significantly before and after Tet. So if you have your eye on a specific painting, try and buy on the New Year specifically.

We had a wonderful meal at the highly rated Morning Glory Restaurant (try the banana flambé) and then meandered through the crowded streets. People were strolling through the streets with unappetizing meat on sticks, beer, and DIY crafts they had made along the river bank. The mood was palpably festive. There was a large stage set up and performers in traditional Vietnamese dress sang songs and danced for an hour. We negotiated with a small sampan to take us out into the river for the firework show at midnight. It quickly became apparent that our boat wasn’t as seaworthy as others and balancing our weight was important. The show was way more than I had expected from such a small city. We later met a friendly couple from San Francisco who said they saw several of the fireworks fall into the crowd. Unfortunately, this resulted in people being rushed to the hospital.

More on our five days in Hoi'An soon.

The not so Ancient City of Hue

2/23/2015

Hue isn’t a city I would highly recommend. It boasts of having an ancient city with a beautiful citadel. Their definition of ancient doesn’t coincide with mine. The Citadel was built in 1805 by Emperor Gia Long. Since the eighteen hundreds isn’t exactly ancient, the historical appeal isn’t all that strong in my book. We spent a day visiting two of the seven tombs of the Nguyen Emperors and the Citadel. The tombs we visited were of Khai Dinh (1916-1925), the last Nguyen Emperor to be buried in a tomb, and Minh Mang (1820- 1841), one of the very anti-French Emperors. Each cost 80,000 VND, which felt extremely overpriced. If you are going to visit the tombs, bring your own scooter or decide on a flat rate with a taxi beforehand. The taxi fares ended up being more than what we would have liked to pay.

One interesting thing we found at the Citadel was an M 79 hand grenade casing. It was stuck in a wall and Myles just plucked it out not realizing what it was. Hue has suffered through two wars unfortunately. Both the Indochina Wars and the Vietnam War brought firefights directly into the city proper. Scars from these wars are still visible on many buildings’ exteriors. One place I do recommend visiting is the Risotto Restaurant.

The next day was of more interest as we visited several Vietnam War era sites. We went to Khe Sanh Base, Hein Luong Bridge, the Ben Hai River, Rock Pile Mountain, Dakrong Bridge, the Vinh Moc Tunnels, and what is known as the Skeleton Church. The hotel’s tour cost 20 USD per person, so I went to a travel agency and arranged a private car without a guide for 60 USD total. I think the big plus to going with a private car is that you can take as long as you want at each stop. For example, for most people Khe Sanh is just an old airstrip with nothing left to see, but for us it was an incredibly significant historical site. We ended up being there for almost 2 hours. Just knowing that we were walking along the airstrip where so many of our planes landed with young troops off to fight a war they didn’t voluntarily sign up for felt surreal. The experience also gave me an even deeper respect for the Vietcong soldiers. They had to carry heavy artillery up into the hills with man power alone in order to attack Khe Sanh. The tenacity and strength of will for them to fight in such unideal conditions suffering huge loses demands respect.

Khe Sanh was originally built as an airstrip for American planes in 1962. As the Americans struggled to stop the flow of goods and armaments down the Ho Chi Minh Trail, Khe Sanh became more important. One reason Khe Sanh was key in intercepting the trail was due to its proximity to Laos and the Laotian portion of the trail. It grew into a US Special Forces base and was the site of one of the worst battles in the war. The base was placed under siege by the Vietcong from January to April 1968. This was a great diversion on the Vietcong’s behalf because it split the Americans attention between defending the base and reclaiming the city of Hue after the Tet Offensive successfully found the city in Vietcong hands. Rough estimates place the casualties at Khe Sanh around 207 Americans and 9,000 Vietcong. These numbers don’t include the civilian casualties. Apparently fighting a war of attrition wasn’t going to win us anything.

On the way to the Vinh Moc Tunnels we stopped at the Dakrong Bridge. The current bridge was built after reunification in 1975, but the originals were very important during the war. The bridge was considered the beginning of the Ho Chi Minh Trail. Just for clarification, the Ho Chi Minh Trail was not one continuous trail. It was a network of tunnels, paths, and dried up stream beds that spanned across the border into Laos and Cambodia. Most of the goods moved on the trail were on porters’ backs or on bicycle seats. I actually saw an old man going down the street with one of these bicycles. He had a load of hay strapped to the seat of his bicycle and he walked alongside the bike with a long stick tied to the handle bars allowing him to steer. After the bridge stopped on the side of the road to take a few photos of Rock Pile Hill. It is a lone standing karst rock that is roughly 790 ft. high. Its inaccessibly from the ground made it an important artillery base for the US from 1966-1969. The only way to reach Elliot Combat Base (on top of Rock Pile Hill) was by helicopter.

We continued along Highway 9 (missing both Hamburger Hill and Carrol Combat Base unfortunately) and stopped at the Hien Luong Bridge which spans the Ben Hai River. At the Geneva Conference of 1954, the DMZ at the 17th parallel was established to divide North and South Vietnam. The river acted as the line and the DMZ stretched for 3 miles beyond each bank. Under McNamara extensive fencing was built along the length of the DMZ in an attempt to keep the fighting at the “front”. This obviously didn’t work since the Vietcong were able to wage war and surprise acts way south of the DMZ.

We finally made it to the Vinh Moc Tunnels and found no other tourists. This was definitely in stark contrast to the Cu Chi Tunnels. As we walked to the entrance we were awkwardly followed by a shabbily dressed man. At first we felt a bit uncomfortable and then just accepted that we would be tipping an unofficial guide. In the end it was good he was there because he knew how to turn on the lights in the tunnels. In the small dusty museum a man shorter than I am, ran in and began tapping pictures with a pointer and then pointing to himself. Our “guide” said that the other man was one of the 18 or so babies born in the tunnels. He spent his first few years of life within the tunnels’ dark walls.

The village of Vinh Moc was just north of the DMZ and thus suffered through heavy bombings from the US air force. Instead of leaving, the villagers decided to move underground. From their new home they were able to supply the nearby Con Co Island with food and weapons. According to my guide book 12,000 tons of military supplies were moved from the tunnels to the island. The tunnels went right up to the ocean and allowed the occupants to dump the newly upturned soil of their ever expanding network out into the waves and out of view of American planes. After 18 months the tunnels stretched for 2 miles and had 13 entrances. Inside there were bedrooms, bathrooms, a hospital room, a maternity ward, a large meeting hall, weapon storage rooms, and bomb shelters.

These tunnels were so different from Cu Chi. In the Vinh Moc Tunnels we could walk relatively upright instead of crawling. It was a much more authentic experience and really showed how impressive these villagers were. At the end of our time in the tunnels we exited entrance 13. We came out into a tunnel made of green foliage that led us to an abrupt drop off into the sea. It is hard to fathom being locked away underground when you are so close to such natural beauty.

The Vinh Moc Tunnels are definitely worth a trip in my opinion. On the way back into town we stopped at the Skeleton Church. The church served as the Vietcong headquarters for the town at one point and paid a heavy price. It now stands without a roof and with gaping holes in its walls. There is something really beautiful about this untouched memory of a battle long past.

Up next is Tet in Hoi'An!

The Bus Ride from Hell

2/23/2015

Due to the imminent holiday, we had only one bus option to get to Hue from Nha Trang. The overly flirtatious man who sold us the tickets, in between glances down at his game of Clash of Clans, told us our four seats were the last on the bus and that we were lucky to be in the back where there is more room for backpacks. Sweet… well… just wait. We paid for our overpriced foreigner rate bus tickets and hoped for the best. Two days later we were prepared for our 16 hour overnight bus ride and waiting in the lobby of our hotel. The company was supposed to pick us up at 6:15pm for the 7:00pm bus. 6:15 came and went. The woman working at the front desk of the hotel called four times to ask if the company was coming to pick us up. The first three times they said just wait. During the fourth phone call they said to hurry up and take a taxi to their office. We were all a bit rattled because we were cutting it so close and if we missed the 7:00 pm bus there would be a good chance of being stuck in Nha Trang for over a week. I can’t stress enough that travel in Vietnam before and after Tet is difficult.

We arrived just in time to line up to board our sanitary, spacious, and oh so comfortable bus. That last sentence was dripping with sarcasm. I have done a lot of overnight transit throughout my travels and this bus ride was by far the most horrible and insane of all. We had to take off our shoes and put them in plastic bags as we shuffled down the tight aisles to our seats at the back of the bus. The seats were kind of like bunk beds in that there was one on the floor of the bus and one directly above it, which was reached by a small ladder. All seats were in a permanent pseudo recline. One of the most uncomfortable aspects of these seats was that where you put your feet was a narrow and shallow tunnel. I stand just shy of 5’7’’ and it did not accommodate my legs let alone those of someone taller. So just picture the four of us nicely snuggled together lying shoulder to shoulder, but wait the back of the bus had five seats abreast. Meaning my brother got to know a very nice French woman named Miriam very well. We were all thankful that she was a polite person and more importantly petite.

Things started off stuffy, but we were all jovial. How bad could it be, right? Well, we stopped shortly after we hit the road and a horde of locals boarded. Apparently, first class tickets give you a seat and second class tickets allow you to sit on the floor. They boarded so quickly that I didn’t even have time to grab my backpack from below my seat. I had assumed that no one would be able to sit in the storage area, but I was wrong. Three men were crammed in the confined space and didn’t even bother to move my bag and just lay on top of it. As I kneeled to request my bag, I noticed the very agitated (understandably so) Albanian we had met earlier cradling his crying baby. It is hard to imagine that he had to hold that little boy in that tight space with all those strangers huddled on the floor next to them, for the next 24 hours (did you notice the a discrepancy in time…).

Less than an hour outside of Nha Trang the bus decided to breakdown. With no explanation whatsoever our luggage was thrown from the bus along with a dead chicken onto the oil stained pavement. For four hours we all milled about and hoped that another bus was on its way. Somehow someone speaking from the other end of a very dirty cell phone had walked the driver through how to get the bus up and going. We took up our posts without complaint. Unfortunately, this delay meant that the bus driver was not willing to stop for bathroom breaks. Throughout the night there were several instances where he pulled over to pee and so I hopped up and stepped off the bus to go alongside him (I purposefully wore a dress). He smacked my butt and said, “No!” Thus, I was greatly in need of a bathroom for most of the night.

My brother was kept up by something else entirely. The driver was driving extremely erratically. A huge chunk of the route hugs the coastline and Tim was wide awake monitoring our driver’s inability to properly make turns. The squid boats with their bright lights felt way too close for comfort. In Vietnam cars, buses, and scooters use their horns constantly as if to say, “I am here… I am still here…. Yep still here!” Our driver was no different. He passed on curves and aggressively blared his horn at those inconveniently in the correct lane ahead of him.

The next day, we obviously missed our arrival time of 11:00 am. We were all starving and in need of a toilet when our bus unexpectedly pulled off the side of the road next to a random cemetery. Again our bags were aggressively thrown from the bus with no explanation. Another bus came along and its passengers were ushered off in confusion. For some unknown reason we were switching buses and when you think it can’t get worse it always does. The interior of this new bus was coated in dust and had sharp metal sticking out of the seats. So the mayhem continued all the way to Hue.

Finally in Hue 24 hours after we started, we all felt like Jell-O. Between threats of future abuse, my brother swore to not board another bus in Vietnam. Well, he wasn’t going to have much of a choice.

Nha Trang

2/23/2015

If you are trying to make an itinerary for Vietnam two places I did not go to but you should consider, are Dalat (an old French hill resort) and Mui Ne (a famous beach area with sand dunes). We chose to spend two days at the most highly ranked beach in Vietnam, Nha Trang. The first thing we noticed was that all establishments had signs in Vietnamese, English, and Russian. I have never seen so many Russian tourists concentrated in one place. Almost all the tourists we saw were Russian. We even went to a Russian brewery and enjoyed a pint. I don’t have anything truly exciting to share since it was just a beach, but we really liked the Lanterns Restaurant and recommend you stopping by if you are in town. Also, I don’t recommend wearing a white buggy smuggler (speedo) with glow in the dark stars tapped to it.

Independence Palace and Sleeper Trains

2/20/2015

Once back in Ho Chi Minh we left our luggage at our old hostel, Long Hostel (highly recommended). The staff were very welcoming and even let us use their showers even though we weren’t staying the night. We rushed to visit the Independence Palace and the Notre Dame Cathedral.

The Independence Palace isn’t a must visit for the average traveler. My brother mocked it for being a letdown, but I actually really liked the historical significance of it. It was originally the home of the French governor general while Vietnam belonged to French Indochina. The palace was later the seat of the Republic of Vietnam’s government and home to President Diem. In 1962, a Vietcong soldier was able to infiltrate the ARVN’s air force and with one of their own planes bombed the palace. His goal was to assassinate President Ngo Dinh Diem. He failed, but Diem was successfully killed in 1963 by his predecessor’s (Minh) henchmen. Diem was a staunch catholic and had established many anti-Buddhist and anti-communist policies. This led to many protests and great anger over his nine years of rule and eventually to his death at the hands of his own countrymen. His replacement President Van Thieu lived in the palace until he was forced to flee by helicopter in 1975 when North Vietnamese troops stormed the palace and took over Saigon. The famous photo of a North Vietnamese tank busting down a gate was taken here.

The interior has an eerie 60’s/70’s feel to it and has been left relatively untouched. On the roof there are two large red circles painted next to the helicopter landing pad to show where the bombs were dropped in 1962. The bunker in the basement has all the dated radio transmitters and original furniture from that time period. Also of disturbing note are the preserved elephant feet in the president’s private quarters.

That evening we boarded our overnight train to Nha Trang. We had purchased our tickets in advance having been warned that transit would be difficult the week before and of the Tet holiday (Lunar New Year is the most significant holiday of the year in Vietnam). We got some of the last beds on the train. So two tickets were for two beds in the same cabin of four and the other two were in individual cabins. I opened the door to my cabin to find two mean male faces glaring at me. My first thought was, “Hell no. I am not sleeping with these guys by myself.” Luckily, a friendly man was willing to trade with me. Tim and Maya were greeted by a family of five crammed into the two lower bunks in their cabin. Once everyone was in the car the conductor locked the external door with a padlock, which I found a bit disconcerting.

The bed was comfortable enough for me. I highly recommend overnight trains over the overnight buses. At least with the trains you control when you go to the bathroom and whatnot. Tim struggled to fit in the bunk due to his height and spent the night attempting to not fall out. I really can’t complain, but the man below me did end up blaring Vietnamese music for the ENTIRE night. Very strange, but that is why you always travel with ear plugs. We did enjoy interacting with several of the families on the train. There were two sisters, 15 and 8. The 15 year old kept telling the 8 year old things to say in English. At one point she told me, “You are the color of my belly.” Yes, yes I am.

We rolled into Nha Trang around 10:00 am and spent the day sitting at the beach admiring the plethora of Russian mankinis strutting down the sand.

Stay tuned to hear about Nha Trang and the overnight bus from hell!

Can Tho Floating Markets

2/20/2015

One piece of advice I wish we had been given before venturing to Ho Chi Minh City is to double check all attractions hours of operation. Maya had hopes of buying a few rosaries and attempted to visit the cathedral 4 times. Each time it was closed. I had really wanted to visit the Independence Palace or Reunification Palace, but it too had odd hours. With several epic fails under our belts, we boarded a bus and headed to Can Tho. The bus ride went smoothly except for the Dutchman almost not getting back on after a 15 minute break.

Can Tho is the largest city in the Mekong Delta and a great place to visit floating markets from. Having missed the Damnoen Saduak floating market outside of Bangkok, it was a definite priority to experience floating markets in Vietnam. A big difference between the Damnoen Saduak and Can Tho’s markets is their functionality. The ones here are for the locals while Damnoen Saduak is predominantly for tourists.

To make life a bit easier we decided to do a tour through our hotel, the Kim Lan Hotel (great value). After negotiating the price was 10 USD per person. We visited two floating markets, Cai Rang and Phong Dien. It was nice to see two very different markets back to back. Cai Rang is only 4 miles southwest of town and is a wholesale market. Large barges loaded with one or two specific goods stayed relatively stationary while small sampans floated up to them to negotiate large Costco size purchases. Each barge had a tall pole with whatever they were selling tied to it as an indicator to the buyers what they had for sale. We saw all sorts of fruit and vegetables. There were even floating restaurants that deliver hot meals to the barges. It is crucial to make this trip early in the morning. Many sellers are only there for a few hours around sunrise. From our small sampan we were able to catch glimpses into the barges bellies and see the living quarters of the shipmasters. Many had hammocks strung up, wives preparing breakfast in makeshift kitchens, and small children laying on the decks. Life on the river seemed social, but hard.

Another nine miles west, we came to Phong Dien. Phong Dien is a retail market meaning you are able to buy individual items instead of a boat load of potatoes. We purchased several pineapples and floated over to a café. We sat on the deck drinking coconut water from humungous fresh coconuts and observed women with conical hats hawk their goods from small sampans filled to the brim with vegetables and fruit.

After the markets our tour took us through some of the small waterways. We stopped to check out some rice paddies and a rice noodle factory. The highlight of the day for my brother involved my urgent need to empty my bladder. I told our tour guide, to his dismay, that I was just going to go in the bushes. He insisted I use the bathroom of one of the nearby houses. He approached an elderly woman and she gestured to the side of the house. There was no outhouse, just two slates of wood balanced over a canal. The family had hammered a foot high piece of sheet metal around the slates to provide a small degree of privacy. The best or worst part of it depending on whose perspective you take, was that this toilet set up was in full view of the pathway we were all walking along. I squatted and my brother documented my stream falling below the slates while in tears. He genuinely couldn’t believe his little sister had been willing to do such a thing. Well, life on the road changes a person…

Hi, I'm Kristin!

I am an avid traveler who also loves photography, history, and food. Life is short and I am trying to gather as many special memories as I can.

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