As the pretty young gal efficiently read my measurements and
relayed them to her helper, who distractedly recorded them in a paper notebook,
I attempted mental conversions from centimeters to inches – the circumference
of my neck, the size of my biceps, the volume of my crotch, the girth of my
thighs, the width of my shoulders, the span of my calves, the apex of my navel,
the breadth of my hips, the thickness of my wrist, reflecting on how, up to
now, my only concern was waist size and inseam length. Why, today of all hot days, did I not wear my underwear ?
In Hoi An, famous for its custom clothing, everything is made based on individual shape, where blocks of retail tailors are interspersed with sweat shop sewing factories lined with workers and their machines (best workers earn $60/month). What began as an innocent new travel shirt - two zipper pockets hidden by Velcro
flaps in a lightweight cotton fabric - greedily ended three days later, with a smart charcoal grey wool overcoat, a classic cashmere wool suit, a pair of cotton pants having three hidden zipper pockets, and another print shirt, all made to order overnight, with everything ultimately stuffed in one box for the three month sea mail journey back to the states. Shop around and interview a few establishments before making a commitment, perhaps starting with a simple shirt (as we did) to determine their workmanship. Had I not been so reliant on flip flops, I would have had some custom shoes made at the same time.
Hoi An is everyone’s favorite town in Vietnam, in fact, it may be my favorite spot so far in Southeast Asia. Whether you choose to walk the many blocks of ancient town and admire the centuries old architecture or dine at one of the many outdoor cafes along the riverfront, or day trip to the My Son ruins, or ride bicycles to the local beach, or just lounge at one of the many inexpensive hotels, it’s difficult to imagine a
more perfect town. From the huggable little grammas wandering the colorful lantern lit alleys late at night in their silken pajamas, to the family run restaurant we frequented often (Café 43), the people of this town are disarmed easily with a quick smile and hello (‘sing ciao’ is how it sounds). Compact, cultural, charismatic, charming, colorful, Hoi An has something for everyone, and every adjective from A-Z could be applied to this little gem of a destination.
The day trip to the My Son ruins, about 40 km outside of town, was an especially interesting and high value venture. Built in the 12th century by the Cham dynasty, the ruins themselves are in varying states of disrepair, in fact, parts of them were bombed during the Vietnam war, yet the ones still intact were impressive in the steamy jungle setting. On the way home, we opted for the optional boat ride, stopping at a woodcarving island, and soaking up the cool breezes. It continues to be very hot in Vietnam, but we hope that as we move north into China, it will cool somewhat.
There are many interesting shops scattered throughout town, although predominantly clothing, as well as a very colorful local market, where I foolishly glanced a millisecond too long at this hat for which the lady wanted 180,000 dong ($10), and then patiently suffered her insistent and persistent nagging as she followed after me, beseeching me, begging me to be her first good luck sale of the day, repeatedly crossing out the price on her etch-a-sketch as we tangoed past the bananas and papayas – 160,000 – 150,000 – 140,000 – 130,000 – 120,000 – 110,000, while I continued to emphatically decline her offer, telling her I didn’t care for the hat at any price, until after 15 minutes of her pitiful pleading, I fitfully relented at 32,000 dong ($2), not so much because I wanted the hat, but more so because her Emmy winning theatrics were entertaining. And actually, the hat is not so bad after all.
Next stop up the road was the old capital of Vietnam, Hue, about 2 hours away, but with these tour buses, you stop many times, mostly unnecessarily, so the trip actually took 5 hours. Along the way we stopped at this really lonely stretch of beach where the waves were perfect for boogie boarding and the restaurant probably provided kickbacks to the bus drivers. It had perfect boogie board waves, but evidently no one rents anything, otherwise we may have gotten off the bus and stayed a day or two before continuing on.
The main attraction in Hue is the Citadel, a 10 kilometer walled square where much of the population resides. Within this structure are various other imperial structures and temples, with porcelain encrusted entrance gates, intricately carved support columns, all in varying stages of repair (again, many of the structures were bombed during Vietnam war). What we’ll remember most about Hue is the hotel we stayed, a rare one night stand – after traveling all over the world, staying at many very, very nice hotels, this is the first time that we got a room that came with a computer for our personal use - that and a huge balcony overlooking the city
for $12/night.
The new travel clothes also triggered a fresh evaluation of our bags, and forced a bit of triage, since we’re traveling so light, every new thing displaces something old, something we tend to do every few weeks. Right now we’re a little top heavy in books since we tend to acquire them in exchange whenever we can – many of the books you find here are copies, of sometimes poor quality, with little trade in value. Oh, did I mention Marge’s two traditional Ao Dai silk dresses and a couple pair of pants? If we didn’t need to get this show on the road, I would have returned to our favorite tailor for even more bargains. After all, even with postage, it all came to $302 – my complete suit being the most costly at $75…
I couldn’t decide what was most annoying about our frustrated NASCAR wannabe driver, the fact that he felt inclined to check his cell phone for messages every 5 minutes, or the sporting way he slalomed around potholes and cow pies, or the irritating habit he had of impatiently sounding his horn (which sounded like a warbling sore-throated yodeler) at everything, or the paranoid and claustrophobic behavior he exhibited whenever another vehicle blocked his right of way and he felt obliged to pass (and lay on his horn of course)….
We were packed 12 people plus luggage in a 9 passenger
minivan for the 5 hour ride from the beach town of Mui Ne
to
the hill town of Dalat in central Vietnam.
Fortunately, I nabbed the shotgun seat while Marge got a middle row next to a
young and pleasant Australian mate. As I gazed over the carpeted dashboard
adorned with a bottle of perfume, a smiling Buddha statue, a small vase of
fresh flowers, and an oversized beanie baby knockoff, I alternatively kept
telling myself, this better be worth it and I hope to live long enough to see China.
Windswept Mui Ne was a soothing respite from the hustle of Saigon, an isolated and quiet 6 mile ribbon of sand, predictably famous for windsurfing and kite flying. We stayed at a very nice little resort (Little Mui Ne Cottages), and did nothing more than lay around the pool, re-tan, and recharge our batteries for the next leg of our journey. It felt good to be back on the beach, something we last did the end of January, although I’m only good for a few days before getting restless to move on.
Mui Ne is rapidly becoming a developed beach community, with new growth prevalent along it’s shores, due to it’s proximity to Saigon, yet still retains it’s flavor as a local fishing community, with colorful and sturdy boats littering the beach, and nighttime squid fisherman lit up like a string of pearls (we had the best squid here at a small family run restaurant across the street – the Golden Sunlight). During the day the local fisherman would bravely challenge the choppy seas in round little wicker baskets called coracles (see pictures), setting their nets and bouncing around like cheap bobble head dolls, seemingly always on the brink of teetering over and drowning.
People flock to Dalat for the cool weather, fresh air and pastoral rural scenery. Although the town is pleasant enough, there’s an imbalance between the number of hotels and good restaurants and bars/cafes. By far, the best parts of Dalat are in the surrounding hills, visited easily and enjoyably by employing the self proclaimed and ubiquitous ‘Easy Riders’, a popular excursion where you buddy up on a motorbike with one of the locals. For $20/person, you ride on the back with your driver for the day,
welcoming the fresh air and appreciating the many sites and sounds of Vietnam - mud encrusted water buffaloes languishing in verdant rice paddies, the secretive cicadas shrieking in the hot air, chocolate colored rivers snaking through coffee plantations, gardens meticulously scalloped from the hillsides, lovely young ladies dressed in snow flake white traditional Ao Dai dresses riding their bikes home from school, farmers in their recognizable triangle hats toiling in the fields, and locals on the side of the road selling the fruits of their labor
One of the more fascinating sites we visited was the non OSHA
approved silk factory, where young girls collected and boiled mulberry cocoons,
stripping and entangling the individual silk strands on spools that mechanically
wound the multiple threads together. The factory was hot, the ruckus of the
machinery overbearing, the potential for accidents imposing, as these ancient machines
wound the silk,
and the poor young gals slaved away. I was particularly
fascinated by this 200 year old Rube Goldberg, very clever, old fashioned contraption
that ingested thousands of individual silk threads on one side, fed them
through these dirty old cardboard pattern regulating templates on top, and magically
transformed the strands into a delightful woven silk fabric
embellished with elaborate patterns.
Other stops included a home based noodle factory, where the entire family toils all day in a hot building, boiling, slicing, and packaging rice noodles for distribution to local markets, the wonderful Elephant Falls with a very funny and jolly giant white Buddha, lunch at a very local eating establishment overlooking the valley, a building designer gone mad Crazy House, and a mushroom farm with adjoining rice distillery. We continue to be impressed by the zealousness and capitalist spirit displayed by so many people, willing to work so hard under such poor conditions to make a better life for themselves and their families.
From Dalat, we cruised downhill in a minivan (very comfortable 3 hours) to the seaside town of Nha Trang, the trip notable for the very bizarre naked guy walking down the middle of the road as we rounded a corner. There must be some local competition for who can drive from Dalat to Nha Trang the fastest, since there would be no other reason for our driver to act with such reckless abandon, all the while carrying on a non stop conversation with the cute gal sitting next to him.
Nha Trang, an upscale beach community, is nestled against the mountains with a bay that’s sprinkled with offshore islands, and a beach that extends for a couple of miles. We stayed at a very nice hotel about a block from the beach, and ventured to the sand every day, renting chairs at one of the private beaches, reading, and taking long walks and dips along the ocean. Across the street from our hotel was a small, very popular local pub, where you sat around outside on these smallish chairs that seemed to have been stolen from some child’s playhouse, and where for 75 cents you got a small pitcher (good for 4 glasses) of ‘fresh’ beer, something made by the locals and sold to establishments around town (the last time I had beer this cheap, I was 18 and sitting at the Timber Lodge in my home town). What I’ll remember about our hotel was the observance, as we sat on our balcony during happy hour and looked down upon the debris strewn vacant lot across the street, of a dozen or so rats scurrying about. Nha Trang is very nice, but really, this cookie cutter town could be anywhere in the world – you couldn’t stand down town and look around and know you were in Vietnam.
Next adventure is an overnight bus to the charming hamlet of Hoi An, about half way up the coast of Vietnam, where I’m apprehensive about inflicting monetary damage to our budget, since Hoi An is known for it’s shopping, especially made to order clothing.
There’s a lot to like about Dalat, Mui Ne and Nha Trang, and for days afterwards, I could not get that annoying and persistent yodeler sound out of my head.
As we balanced on the curb assessing more motorbikes than I had seen in my entire lifetime, a hunchbacked 150 year old Mother Teresa look-alike walked up, and, without hesitation, stepped off the curb into the seemingly uninhibited traffic. Acting quickly, we selfishly tucked into her 80 pound leeward shoulder and mirrored her movements across the busy thoroughfare, gently offering words of encouragement only we understood. After a few frightful moments we were successfully across, our first introduction to crossing the notorious streets of Saigon.
At first, it seemed daunting to attempt to cross the streets with hundreds of motorbikes buzzing around, yet you really have three choices: cross hesitantly with your head on a swivel constantly scanning the faces of the oncoming drivers – cross confidently, your eyes straight ahead, no hesitation, just a steady direction and constant speed – or cross with a group of locals using them as both a shield and template for when and where to move. If you maintain a constant direction and speed, the drivers will swerve to one side of the other and after a while you experience what Moses must have when he parted the Red Sea.
In a 5 hour timeframe - the time is takes to ride a bus from Phnom Penh, Cambodia to Saigon, Vietnam – you are
presented with the reality of comparing and contrasting a backward, dirty, and seedy capital versus a thriving, dynamic and clean center of commerce. Phnom Penh is no Saigon - I’m not sure it ever will be. As we walked the streets of downtown Saigon, there were industrious and motivated vendors lining every open space, with people on bikes selling everything imaginable, and enterprising locals on every corner with compressors and spare tires for those motorbikes in need. Despite the constant horn blowing and heightened anxiety, there seems to be a coordinated coexistence between everyone, as hundreds and hundreds of motorbikes constantly jockey for position within a laneless fifty foot swath of concrete.
We both loved Saigon, or as it’s called here, Ho Chi Minh City, named after the great liberator Uncle Ho. We spent three nights at the 5 star Sheraton Saigon Towers in a great location downtown, close to all the major attractions. Again, because of our Platinum status, we were upgraded to a rather large suite, given complimentary buffet breakfast, and nightly happy hour with open bar and tons of food.
Some of the highlights include, War Remembrance Museum, although we thought it was really slanted against the Americans. Coming out of this museum, I really felt like the bad guy after seeing pictures of My Lai massacre, the consequences of Agent Orange (including deformed babies in a jar), scenes of torture and effects of napalm, and many photographs illustrating American atrocities. The Presidential Palace, another historic structure, has been preserved as it stood on that fateful day in 1975 when the Republic of Vietnam was taken over by the Communist North Vietnamese. Another interesting side trip was to the Jade Emperor Pagoda, a very colorful Chinese temple filled with wonderful woodcarvings and dark and sometimes menacing figures, all surrounded by the smoky essence of incense, backlit by rays of the sun sneaking through cracks in the roof.
It was very refreshing to see Saigon as such a modern and dynamic city, throbbing with life, where capitalists flock to
invest in new enterprises, and local people are free to pursue personal ventures. As our friend JW from the wine bar in Luang Prabang commented, he enjoyed the frenetic energy of Saigon, and I quite agree, there’s something happening here and it’s clearly very good.
Our itinerary for Vietnam (30 days) includes 3 days in Saigon, a couple of days in the quiet beach community of Mui Ne, then up into the hills to Dalat for a few days, then back to the coast to Nga Trang, Moi Ann, Hue, HaLong Bay, the hillside town of Sapa and finally Hanoi before exiting into China the first of May.
Out of the corner of my eye, I saw movement as the little rodent scurried under Marge’s bamboo chair. We were sitting at an outdoor café in downtown Phnom Penh, quietly having a drink after arriving from Siem Reap and checking into our hotel. I was calculating my next move – should I say something or just be patient and hope the little bastard moves on – when I observed his mischievous little rodent head emerge right next to Marge’s leg. Somewhat panicky, I stamped my foot, hoping to scare him off, but instead he mistook Marge’s leg for an escape route, availed himself of it, and created even more pandemonium as my wife came to the realization that a rat was scaling her leg, shot up, and scattered the rodent in the direction of the other startled patrons. Already, in a matter
of seconds, I didn’t like Phnom Penh and it hadn’t been an hour.
We had left Northern Thailand last week to spend a week or so in Cambodia, a considerable and sometimes grueling 24 hour trip. It began with a comfortable overnight train from Chiang Mai to Bangkok (15 hours), followed by a 5 hour bus ride from Bangkok to the Cambodian border. Unfortunately, at the border, the situation deteriorates quickly. First, you get stamped out of Thailand, then you walk down a dusty and hot road, littered with beggars and touts, to Cambodian immigration where they notoriously scam you out of an extra $10 for your ‘expedited’ visa. Then you have to deal with getting transport to Siem Reap – your choices being a bus (cheap and 10 hours), a taxi (expensive and 3 hours) or a pickup truck (cheap and 6
hours).
We negotiated for a $45 Toyota Camry private taxi and spent the next 3 hours driving down the worst dirt road you could ever imagine to Siem Reap, home to Angkor Wat. To say this road is a national disgrace and embarrassment is being too kind. Despite appearances of construction crews along the dirt road, it’s mostly washboard surfaced with bone jarring pot holes, so dry and dusty that most of the time you can’t see the cars in front of you. Bangkok Airlines, who, coincidentally are the only airline to fly into Siem Reap, are in no hurry to see this road improved, although just laying blacktop would cut the travel time easily in half and exponentially
improve the experience.
Finally, we arrived in Siem Reap and checked into the Le Meridien Angkor, using some of our hotel points, a very nice upscale hotel close to the ruins. We bought the $40 Angkor 3 day pass, which allows unlimited access to close to 50 sites in the surrounding areas, a considerable value considering the historic opportunities.
Dating back to the middle 12th century, Angkor Wat was built by King Suryavamanen II as a monument to the Hindu god Vishnu, and is the centerpiece and must see attraction in Siem Reap. Your approach across the moat is breathtaking, your passage marked by interlinked blocks of rock assembled like a jigsaw puzzle, your entrance through the outer gate is visually stunning - it’s scale and architecture appearing illusory at times, due to distance and relative perspective - the intricate and timeless bas-relief carvings detailing scenes from Hindu mythology including the famous ‘Churning of the Sea’ – we spent half a day here and came back a second time just to walk these enduring corridors one more time.
Next up is the great 2 mile squared walled city temple and former capital Angkor Thom, built by King Jayavaramen VII in the early 13th century. Within the four walls are many Buddhist and Hindu structures,
including Bayon and it’s 37 towers with giant stone carved faces, Baphuon, the collapsed temple-mountain in the heart of the complex, Phimeanakas, a crumbling sandstone pyramid that you can climb to the top of, the Terrace of the Elephants, a 1½ mile long wall adorned with elephants and garudas (very impressive), the Terrace of the Leper King, parts of which have only recently been excavated (1990’s), and the four imposing entrance gates, each with unique and memorable stone carvings. We spent the better part of a day here just wandering around.
Ta Prohm, also built in the early 13th century by Jayavarman VII, is a Buddhist complex intentionally left unrestored. Massive fig trees grow from the towers and produce an atmospheric and highly photogenic jungle within a temple visual, while dark mysterious corridors and open plazas populate the enclosure and allow for exploration. We really enjoyed this ruin because it is largely unrestored and had far fewer people visiting.
After these ‘must see’ big three, you can wander around the many other ruins, most of them easily accessible from well established roads. There are many ruins that are in very, very bad condition – dangerously so in fact – that you need to be careful where you walk. You‘ll observe crumbling walls, falling blocks of rock, propped up columns - if these ruins were in America they would
be closed to the public.
The best way to see them is to hire a tuk-tuk driver for the day which will cost you $12-14. They will drive you around, stop at the temples and wait around to drive you to the next site. It’s really not practical to walk from one site to another – although not far, it’s very hot and humid and will wear you out quickly – also, the ride in the breezy tuk-tuk will periodically cool you down.
Siem Reap is a rapidly growing tourist town, with a disproportionate amount of high end hotels and many, many tourist buses along the main temple circuits. It’s also very expensive with everything sold in US dollars – a bottle of water, a t-shirt, a pack of postcards, a tuk-tuk ride across town, always $1-2. We thought everything was overpriced, that the hordes of tourists were being relieved of their money too easily, but, where else can you come and see unique relics like this. Although we were here for 5 days, you could easily see all the main attractions in 3 days - again it’s very hot and dehydrating, so pace yourself. And if we had to do it over, we’d choose to fly from Bangkok or Chiang Mai and avoid the border hassle and shockingly poor overland route.
We spent another two days in the capital city of Phnom Penh, a 6 hour bus ride from Siem Reap, mainly because it
broke up our overland journey to Saigon. Marge liked it better than me, despite the rodent experience, and thought it had great potential. I thought it was by far the dirtiest town we’d been in and wouldn’t think of touching the street food. For a capital city, it was a real pigsty, with an undercurrent of seediness. We found a nice place to stay – Paragon Hotel – right along the riverfront (where all the action is) for $20/night. Aside from the Killing Fields, all of the other main attractions are easily walked – Royal Palace, Tuol Sleng Museum - the very sad and sobering high school where victims of the Khmer Rouge were imprisoned, photographed, tortured and killed – and the National Museum, where many Angkor artifacts (statues, carvings, vases, bas-reliefs) have been safely moved over the years as a result of chronic and widespread looting and vandalism.
Great potential resides in this historic kingdom, despite years of civil strife and political unrest. The country itself is very, very poor and travel is challenging outside the main tourist centers of Siem Reap and Phnom Penh. Medical facilities are sparse (there’s dengue fever epidemic in Siem Reap), land mines continue to be a persistent problem in the countryside, and the many political factions could splinter at any time. We probably should have spent some more time here, but we’re glad we made it out safe and sound. Now on to Vietnam – first stop, Saigon.
Long ago and the far away in the Kingdom of Cambodia, there
were kings named Isanavarman and Jayavarman and Yasovarman and Suryavarman who together
built great monuments to honor their gods, temples that have survived throughout
the ages despite many wars and fractured political alliances, testaments to
greatness that inspire and challenge our existence on earth, and hopefully will
continue to do so for many generations to come.