Banh mi'd between our stops in Laos and Cambodia, we passed ten fast-moving days in Vietnam. While still part of the Intrepid trip, for this leg we got a new leader and (for the most part) felt better guided and organized.
Like an episode from Sesame Street, and in an act of blatant ABC-Discrimination, our trip went only through places beginning with the letter H. Here are some of the best stories.
Halong Bay: A Mixed Bay(g)
After a quick overnight in Hanoi on December 12th that kicked off our Vietnam leg, we left early the next morning for our overnight boat along Halong Bay. (I'll get back to Hanoi, so hold your breath for a moment.)
The good:
Beautiful weather
Unexpected scenery and rock formations
Boat Christmas decos
Concentrated togetherness with fellow travelers
Partial sunset
Being rocked to sleep on a boat
Impressive cave visit
Bay's own beer
The comically bad:
Of all the places to park our boat at sunset, our captain parked it on the east side of a rock formation, blocking us from the remaining sun and its setting
This trip to a cave that had me doing SCUBA anti-panic breathing exercises because there was an insane number of red-clad Chinese tourists yelling, pushing, shoving, and at one stage placing a hand on my booty and pushing me up a carved stairway into other tourists
This beach we went to (affectionately called “China Beach”) also overrun by tourists and garbage. We wore our suits but weren’t given much time (nor did we have much stomach) for swimming. We did get asked to be in more photos though
Now, to be fair, later on our trip, we met an Eritrean-New Yorker who said that we must have disembarked our boat for the cave just at the wrong time. She had a peaceful visit with very few other tourists. So, I guess don't scratch it off your list, maybe just time it better than we did...
Hanoi: Death by Motorbike
When we returned to Hanoi from Halong Bay, we—refusing to break away from tradition (but not from the group)—forewent the guided walking tour and made our own (to our benefit as we were later told by our French friend Laura--amidst re-enacted bleats--that they were purely sheep that saw nothing).
After dodging swarms of motorbikes, we found a place for some ice cream and a movie (Jumanji 2), relaxing after almost two weeks on the go in SEA. (I know, not a super Vietnamese way to start the trip, but we needed a slice of western culture for an evening.)
We didn't have much time to spare, as we needed to meet our group at 9:30 PM to catch our train out of Hanoi. But, after the couple of mini-stints, we felt we had had enough of Hanoi. This was surprising, considering that people we have spoken with who visited Hanoi in the aughts seem to describe a different Hanoi from the one to which we were exposed.
Theirs: an oasis. Hip, safe, manageable. Suitable for short or long stays by tourists. Good for aging parents.
Ours: overrun in every way. Motorbikes. Sidewalk commerce. Tourists. Pollution.
Navigating our own night walk was like a night terror. This city can no longer contain transit, commerce, and tourists that battle for sidewalk space. The pollution at the time we were there was only better than Delhi. In fact, more than 70,000 people die each year on pollution-related deaths in Vietnam (if you want to spit out your Chai tea, India tops the list at 2.3 million pollution-related deaths annually).
Overall, we fear this is the way of hotspots around the world. Travelers find hidden gems, reveal them to the world, more travelers visit, infrastructure ramps up but not with enough forethought or support. Chaos calls. Hanoi was the worst offender in Vietnam (but in a different category from Cambodia’s Sihanoukville) but there are signs of it elsewhere too, like in Halong Bay and then Ho Chi Minh (which seems like how Hanoi may have been somewhere between 10 years ago and now).
Hanoi to Hue: All Aboard
That evening, we boarded the overnight train to Hue. If you’ve been in SEA, you know there are differences among the overnight trains. The one from Bangkok to Chang Mai was as nice as you could expect. Fresh bedding, no alcohol (preventing boisterous travelers interrupting our sleep), beds wide enough that Heather and I could snuggle in one.
This train was not that. While the remainder of this blog is being written after the fact on some Tuesday in January, I loved the train experience so much that I wrote about it in the moment:
It’s 2 AM and I’m violently shaken awake. Again.
It’s just the train.
The no-smoking train that has left me falling asleep to cigarette smoke permeating our cabin from the car’s toilet next door. The sleeper train that clangs and yells boisterously mechanized “coming through!”s to no one in particular in the sleepy Vietnamese villages we pass through. The restful ride that shakes more like a Six Flags original coaster. Every railroad tie beneath us is felt. The car jerks side to side (my head to toe) like an endless earthquake epicenter.
Unable to sleep, barely breathe, I write instead about this, my most sleepless of nights on the trip so far.
I think about how just 3.5 hours ago my bunkmate shrieked at the sight of the mouse that ran under her bunk to hide amidst the bags crammed underneath. The four of us promptly removed any food from our bags and hung on the hooks above our heads. We watched as a slightly amused but unsure train attendant genuflects to the bed with a light, trying to shoo the mouse out.
Heather announces triumph as she watches the fifth resident of our car make her escape from our compartment.
I recall how, 4 hours ago we made up the beds, careful to spread out our travel sheets, having been warned by a previous traveler of the reduce-reuse-recycled bedding that is simply refolded by attendants on a guest’s departure.
...
I eventually fell back asleep and generated 4ish hours, but was grateful when the ride was over. Not before we found a small bug on Heather’s bed which at first we feared may be a bedbug, but was (somehow gladly) a nymph roach.
Hue: The Upside of Motorbikes
The drama on the train proved worth it, though, as Hue was the first undisputedly lovely place at which we arrived in Vietnam.
Citadel Silliness
After arrival we toured the city a bit, getting to have some fun and some history at the citadel.
Along the central pond of the citadel, there was this sign:
Jokingly Heather tiptoed near the water's edge.
I guess the sign wasn't playin'. (I'm also not sure why I was taking her photo at this very moment, but thank goodness for iPhone's LivePhoto.)
Motorbiking
The real highlight, though, was the day spent riding on the back of motorbikes getting a tour of locations in and around Hue. We sped through rice paddies, patronized places that make incense and nón lá (triangle hat), and walked through lively markets that abutte abandoned carnival rides (something we actually saw a lot of in Vietnam). We were also afforded the chance to visit some historically significant sites like the Thien Mu Pagoda (a Buddhist temple and unofficial symbol of Hue that is better known for housing the car of the monk who burned himself alive during the height of the fighting between Catholics and Buddhists) and Hamburger Hill. (Note, the name Hamburger Hill is not as delicious as it sounds. The Vietnam War battle that took place there was so gruesome that the location was named for the casualties whose bodies were so obliterated by the heavy fighting that remains strewn across the land resembled ground meat.)
I also accidentally captured this excitement during a livestock crossing. I thought I was just taking a picture of the cows and the chaos with the bikes, but one of our tourmates was laughing afterward about a woman with a broom, and--sure enough--LivePhoto wins again.
(^Tap to the right to enjoy the slide show of a woman having a cow.)
Meximese
During an evening in Hue, our departure from the group became contagious and four folks we became close with decided to join our quiet rebellion.
We started the evening with a couple of drinks at the hotel but soon went to dinner at Heather's favorite: Mexican.
Full of spice (especially for the French) and authentic flavor, it was a nice break from the traditional SE Asian cuisine. And I haven’t laughed as hard this whole trip as I did when the restaurant owner joined us. She relentlessly hit on our German friend Thorsten, guessed all our ages, and then continued hitting on Thorsten (wiping his sweat, and saying things like, “I like a man who doesn’t talk much...”, and "What's your room number?"). It did end a bit awkwardly, though, as she eventually revealed that she’s married with (and for) children so Thorsten had to bear the burden of disappointment worsened by our giggles for the rest of the night.
Hoi An: More Than Just an Anagram
We spent December 17th and 18th in Hoi An and this proved our favorite city in Vietnam. Quiet, colorful, and rich with history, culture, and warm weather. (The only offense we could discover here, it would seem, were the persistently hungry mosquitos.)
Our first evening we joined an AirBnB “secret bar” tour where we were given ample food and drinks at 5 hidden spots in the city: Rooftops, the back of a clothing store, a Hollywood movie location, and a secluded upstairs of a restaurant. At the second-to-last stop, we even got to make our own drinks, and I was given my last motorbike ride in Vietnam from our host.
The next day we had a private bicycle ride through Hoi An terminating with a sunset boat ride and barbecue. We cycled through rice paddies, rich and modest neighborhoods, and even stopped and smelled the fresh growing herbs at organic gardens. I don’t have words to describe how peaceful and enjoyable this day was, so here are a few thousand:
Ho Chi Minh: Gone in Saigon
And then, our trip finished in Ho Chi Minh City. Sort of a young Hanoi, HCM still is a bit overrun by motorbikes and air pollution, but in a more manageable way.
H is for History
Our first stop in Ho Chi Minh was the War Remnants Museum which goes through the history of the Indochina War and the Vietnam War. (In case you didn’t know, they call it the American War there.)
Here, the horrors of the war are real and on display. It was a messy war with impacts going beyond the borders into Laos and Cambodia and involving not just America, but France, South Korea, New Zealand, and others.
The museum covers it well. From the atrocities of Agent Orange and the war crimes of the My Lai Massacre, to the present-day implications of the now 4th generation victims of birth defects and the trouble U.S. soldiers had in returning home to war supporters who deemed them failures, and an anti-war population who called them villains.
It was a stomach-turning museum and another in the long line of places we've now visited in SEA that make war-ending pleas to everyone and no one in particular. And, just like in Laos, the victims of the U.S.-led war are still visible. We've never traveled to a country where a higher percentage of the population seems to suffer from birth defects.
Mekong Delta
One special part about our trip to Ho Chi Minh was the day our group spent at the Mekong Delta. We took tuk-tuks, paddled the river donning nón lá, and learned about coconut production and uses including sampling the variety of coconut-sourced candies and teas. Returning to HCM also proved restful as we got to enjoy coconut water and fresh coconut on a private passenger boat back.
Some other highlights of our last stop before what you know as our adventure in Cambodia:
Night walk of the city
Visiting our first Hindu Temple
Going to the observation deck at Bitexo Financial Tower (always buy the photo!)
Getting a 30-dish middle-eastern tasting
Finding a speakeasy discoverable only by picking up a telephone in a London-esque booth
Listening to live Christmas music while sipping on a Portland brew
Finding a park that didn't allow motorbikes where I could stretch out my arms
Splurging at Jenny, the U.S. product store
Hữu nghị: Vietnamese for Friendship
Arguably, the best part of our Intrepid trip was the people. We laughed, got lost, made plans, broke away from the tour's plans, and for a wonderful month of our trip, didn't have to worry about finding an outlet for our social natures. Though many people on the trip were fantastic, we created a tight-knit group with four folks: Thorsten (Germany), JJ (Canada), Laura (France), and Sondrine (Ireland, but from France). We loved every second of our shenanigans with this group and made a pinky promise to visit back up.
The Massage
About that group. On our last afternoon together, we were all seeking a massage. I found a parlor within walking distance from our lunch spot, so we walked in and asked to schedule six over the course of the afternoon. Well, if we followed the woman behind the counter around the corner, we could all be seen right away.
We followed her around the corner, down the street, into a building, upstairs, and took off our shoes and entered a dark room.
Together.
I was handed something not unlike a smooth curtain material with light elastic on the top and told to put it on. Not clear on where to put it on, I held it up and asked. Not quite skirt, dress, or towel, it was all a little confusing and I felt the pressure of being the model for the group. After some guidance I discovered it to be a sort of strapless dress-towel.
We were each led to a bed in the room, separated only by 4 feet and a curtain, and instructed to disrobe and towel-dress up. We were having a six-way massage.
Here’s the thing. I had just come from the gym. My shorts have a built-in lining so I was going commando. Under this cover-up, I had nothing. Not usually an issue in a massage, but I’m not usually contorted or attended to in the same way that I was about to be.
My masseuse’s first step: yank down my dress to make a below-the-butt skirt. I was then lying face down, bare buttcheeks up while she sat on me and worked all the parts. Now, it wasn’t one of those kinds of massages so get back on earth with me.
But if there were any impression of modesty for this massage it was wiped away in the first few minutes with her rocking on my full moon in the dark room. It continued much this way. Before I turned over for frontal attention, she hiked it back up to cover my breasts.
Modesty regained.
Then she started to do some chiropractic work on my back by crossing my legs and pressing. My outfit had been pulled so high, however, that we were now in a new level of intimacy usually reserved for my doctor, partner, and waxist. But there I was.
There I was.
She tried her best to keep me covered, but it was almost worse knowing that she knew of the exposure in the three moments when she grabbed the base of the outfit and adjusted it to cover my intimate parts.
In the next stage, I was sat up and she pressed on my back. Then, sitting behind me, she pushed her knees into my back, counted down from three and I found myself in sort of a reverse Superman: facing the ceiling, her knees and shins were flush with my back with her fully underneath me pressing into my spine.
When she rocked me back to the seated position, the top of the outfit slipped down, completing the peep show, and minus a scalp massage, the service.
The massage with six best friends was enough to feel special. The Vietnamese manner of massage made it even more so. But the icing, in fact, was sharing massage stories immediately after and discovering I was the only fully-exposed party as well as the only one who also partook in some Cirque du Soleil practicing.
That evening, we said goodbye to our friends, met the new tour group and prepared (well, thought we prepared) for our final Intrepid leg to Cambodia.
P.S. We also found plenty of time in Vietnam for our favorite things: petting animals and exercising.
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