Food and Film

Long time no post!
My apologies. I have been very busy the past couple months.  Between my internship and teaching, I only have one day off a week.

Should I Stay Or Should I Go Now?

Stuck at home, sick, on a Saturday I realize that it's been a while since I've posted anything. My initial excuse would be that there hasn't been anything worth writing about, but is that fair? Perhaps then I should take it as sign that I need to be out there doing more interesting stuff or maybe I've been here so long already that I've lost the ability to find what makes the things in my life extraordinary. I'm inclined to think it may be a bit of both.

Not able to find things of interest to outside, I began looking in. I helped Daphne out by making her a website for her yoga: www.daphnechua.com. And also took some new yoga pictures for her, as she has just been sponsored by a local clothing company: www.yborn.net/home/.





I looked even further in and started taking Mandarin on Rosetta Stone. I now know more Chinese than Vietnamese. Why am I not taking Vietnamese instead? Learning languages is difficult for me so I want to use my energy to learn one that I want to know forever, rather than just one that I'll use for a year or two.

I was fortunate to have three people this past month that pulled me out and reminded me that I was living some place different and special. The first was my university mate, Zane, who has just come here to do his CELTA[for which I got a $200 referral fee] at ILA and teach English here. He described things that to me were ordinary in a way that made everything glow. For him everything shined like the sun, while I was still squinting to see the stars. As we taught him simple words and numbers, and he told us about the things that he saw on his first day and the people he talked to, I felt nostalgia for the naivety that comes with being some place new and that I too felt just a year before.

Later that same week, our friend, Bret, who had done the CELTA with us came for a brief visit. He has been living and working in Shanghai and was now on a six week paid vacation traveling through Vietnam and Cambodia. He wanted me to take him shooting around Saigon, something I hadn't done since after my first couple of months here. So on his last day I drove him to District Five, China town, and we walked about all afternoon taking photographs. ...

[Bret shows these guys the photo he took of them]

[Vietnamese grannies are cute, no?]

[Obviously, he didn't get it]

[I took this with one of Bret's lenses. After he left, I placed a long overdue order for two new lenses of my own]

[Cupping, removes toxins from your body, leaves giant hickeys]

[These kids will sell you a lion mask for a good price]

[While I go through great lengths to take mediocre shots, I hand feed great material to Bret on the ground below]

Bret was hardly gone when Daphne had a friend from Singapore visit us on their International Day weekend. Yvonne is actually Taiwanese so we can forgive her lack of patriotism for leaving The Red Dot on its biggest day of the year. Since Daphne was working most of Friday, I was left alone with her friend on tour guide duty. I took her rock climbing for her first time, as well as a few of my other favourite places.
"Just for you reference, that was a red light."
"And just for your reference, a bribe is only ten dollars."
Whenever she tried something new for the first time, it almost felt like I was trying it for the first time, too. Food tasted better, the coffee was stronger and sweeter and everything was beginning to look fresh again.

Now that my contract at ILA is coming to a close I've had to spend the last few months contemplating on what comes next. Do I stay another year or try somewhere else? My three visitors were like prophets pointing the way, they showed what glitters when I was hard at seeing. I'm thinking it's stay.

Hoi An Revisited

After a year and many travels, Daphne and I got on a train in Saigon and came back to the place where we took our first trip together, Hoi An. We left Sunday evening after teaching my last class and rode for fifteen hours through the night and morning. There were four beds in our cabin, but after the first stop the other two occupants got off and we had the place to ourselves for the rest of the trip. The train itself contained no new technology that it couldn't have been built in the 1920's and the rooms reminded us somewhat of a jail cell in their style. Having said that, it was by no means run down or dirty and the trip itself was smooth. The rhythmic sound of the tracks below us were meditative and the trip didn't feel as long as it was, except that Daphne managed to finish reading The Good Earth.

When we got into town that afternoon, we decided to avoid another headache hunting hotels and went straight to the same hotel we were at last time we were here, Thanh Binh III. The power was out and the sounds of generators were humming in the streets. Rainy season is slow to start this year and being that half the power in Vietnam is hydroelectric this means that scheduled power cuts are a norm, even in Saigon. Amazingly, the clerk at the front desk of the hotel remembered us and gave us a good rate on our room. Hoi An beats the rest of Vietnam when it comes to hotel rates for value of accomodations.

The following morning, our friend Melanie, who sings at the Hyatt in Saigon, came to join us for a day. We decided to do the walking tour of the Old Town again with her, which was fine because there was a lot we hadn't seen the first time around. For one thing we found a local government building devoted to gathering swallows nests for the use in a popular Chinese dish, Bird's Nest Soup. I haven't tried it myself, but I hear its good.

[And you complained that your government had too many bureaucracies]

[Birds' Nests]

Also, now that I could find it, we got to see the folk performance that we had come in late to last time we were there. It was quite charming, though short.

[Supposedly, this dance is about fishing, but I think its a metaphor for an old man who wants two young women]

[These bars mark the flood line of every flooding season. Last year looked pretty bad]

[Boy showing off his water puppet. Me showing off my photoshop]

We had agreed to save the shopping for later when it cooled down and we were done sightseeing, but it didn't stop Melanie from leading us into every shop along the way, which is pretty much every building. Even I spent a Dong or two on gifts. Later, we went to a tailor to get some clothes made. The tailor we had last time was gone, but fortunately we found a new tailor at Trinh 95 who did fantastic work for cheap. Daphne even designed a pair of pants of her own imagination that came out looking great.

The next morning, we left early for the beach since Melanie had to leave us at noon. When she did leave, we spent the rest of the day there.


The beach had gotten more crowded and loud since the last time we were there. Not as bad as the beaches in Thailand or [god forbid] Vung Tau, but not as good as we remembered. Plus, they were setting up for some rock concert that evening which, by the sound of things, wasn't going to impress.

On the way back to town, wanting to find some new ways to experience Hoi An, we stopped by The Sleepy Gecko where an Aussie guy, Steve, runs motorbike tours through the nearby countryside. We signed up for one two days later and then Daphne, who was in yoga withdraw, asked if there was anywhere where we could practice. Steve gave us direction to An Bang beach, which turned out to be closer and less visited than the better known beach of Cua Dai, and told us to talk to Sam at La Plage.

The next day, we decided to check out An Bang and were pleasantly surprised by how few people were there. There were a few seafood huts set up, as well as an Aussie bar called Phattie's on one end and the more chill themed La Plage on the other.

When Daphne asked Sam about the yoga classes, Sam told her that she doesn't teach the class but instead just does free practice with dvd's and a tv outside. Upon hearing this, of course, Daphne offered her services, free of charge, to teach a class the upcoming Sunday. And with these plans laid out, we went to the sand and laid out for the second full day in a row on the beach. The water was so clear that we could see that this time there were jellfish everywhere, where as last year there weren't. Our stay in the water was always limited to the first jellyfish sighting, at which point Daphne was ready to get out until the memory of it faded and we were back in again. The solitude of the beach during the day was great and as the sun went low, locals started coming, setting up mats and makeshift sun-shields to block the last rays. They swam in their clothes and food was cooked and sold not ten feet from the water.

[We're taught to wait 30 minutes after eating before we swim?]

[Beach Boys]

And, just like last year, the sun said its last goodbyes with a light shower and a rainbow.

[Nice]

The next day, we went to the Sleepy Gecko to do our motorbike trip. I was a bit disappointed that I had to drive an automatic motorbike and only became more so when I found out what the trip demanded out of it. The majority of our party for the trip was made up of funny old Aussie men who can't tell a story without making a joke out of it and being as indirect as possible with giving honest details about their lives. Aussies would make excellent spies.

The trip started simply enough with a countryside drive. Steve showed us some farms, taught us about what was planted, how its done, how they fish, etc. Then, he took us to a small canteen and proceeds to give us beers, rice wine[note:wine read 'vodka'], and snake wine, where in a snake is put into the jar that holds the rice wine.



After ensuring that everyone had a good buzz, he leads us to an area that is heavily flooded for farming and then makes us drive across several rickety bamboo bridges that look like something Indiana Jones would struggle with. Fortunately, no one was hurt though we're told that it happens. A few of those later he took us to see how they make beach mats and the women let us have a go at the weaving process. I was a natural, Daphne did...alright.


For the climax of the trip, Steve took us to a secluded beach where we had a short dip. For the finale, we then had to drive along the coast, on the sand, in our less than capable motorbikes. Needless to say this was no easy task, especially with two people on a bike and especially on an automatic Yamaha. We must have driven one kilometer before we got to the road again, by which time we were completely drained and ready for a cold beer. We were so wiped out though, that we were in bed that night by 9.

[The catch of the day]

The next day was my birthday! We rented a bike and, since we had only seen one of the Marble Mountains the last time we were there, we drove out to see the other four that we missed. We found when we got there that the other mountains had a lot less attractions than the main one, so after visiting two of them we aimed our sights at the mountain called Monkey.

To get to Monkey, we had to drive 20 km up the coast of Danang, the third largest city in Vietnam, which was lined with empty beaches and massive would be resorts that were waiting for the coming tourist boom. Monkey had only one finished road and it was all uphill. It took most of the remaining gas to get to the top. The winding road was hypnotic and we had to pop our ears several time for the quick changes in elevation. At the very top was a government complex that had two big white domes on a couple of their buildings. The place looked like something from an old Bond movie and we were turned away at the gate, never knowing what the place was for anyways. Just below that there was a lookout point where we could overlook the South China Sea and get a temporary reprieve from the sun.

The way back we did with the engine off, since it was all down hill and I was low on. In fact, I ran out of gas right in front of a gas seller on the street shortly after we got off the mountain. On the way back, we stopped in to Phatties at An Bang beach for a seafood lunch and a couple of beers.

[Daphne stole a fedora]

After being undercharged for unknown, and uninvestigated, reasons we headed back to the hotel for a shower and out on the town for some wining and dining.

Not surprisingly, we spent our last day on the beach again, worn out from two days of adventuring.

[They are very serious about their boat]

At sunset, we set out some yoga mats at La Plage and Daphne led a class with me and three, much more capable, women.

It quickly turned into a spectator sport, as a crowd of locals, tourists and even dogs came to watch us. I earned a lot of laughs from the locals.

[These kids show off their own skills while we practice]

Our last morning, we took a last swim in the hotel pool before heading to the train station. The train doesn't arrive into Saigon until 5am the next day.

And here, a sadness, for this was to be Daphne's last day in Saigon. Those that read of our first trip to Hoi An may be experiencing a deja vu, for again she left for Singapore and again with no promise of return[well...maybe a hint]. The reasons I won't get into. I'll only say that it was not for a lack of love on either of our part but instead had to do with those nitty gritty details of our lives that no amount of love can erase. And so, once again we say goodbye.

[And we wait]

Tet in the Delta

Tet, or Chinese New Year, is a time for Vietnamese families to come together, eat and ensure their future financial prosperity by handing out red envelopes of cash to the youth and paying up to their parents. For the expat, it means that there is nothing to do because everything is closed for the next week. This leaves us with two options, go somewhere that doesn't celebrate the Lunar New Year, or go to the beach.
Our initial plan was for Daphne and I to take a train to Hue for the holiday, but as I waited until a week before Tet to go to the train station, I found that all tickets were sold out. When I got home I looked online for flights but those were sold out as well. Not just for Hue, but for everywhere. An amateur mistake, tickets for Tet holiday need to be bought one to two months in advance. Noted. So we went with the one form of transportation that no one had bought tickets for, or would want to. Motorbike. My second-hand counterfeit 100cc Wave, to be exact. And since Hue was a bit too ambitious for a week-long trip we chose to go through the Mekong Delta instead. A motorbike trip through the Delta was one that I wanted to do since I got here but thought that I would never get the chance. Now, it was the only trip we COULD do.

Escape from Saigon
The plan was to leave Saigon at 9am on the 12th. I knew the trip was off to a bad start when I wake up to find the time read 9:15. We packed, went to have breakfast and weren't properly on our way until noon. Of the whole journey, the hardest to map was the route leaving Saigon. To get to the Delta you take highway 1A all the way south, but if you'll look at the maps of HCMC, you'll notice that it doesn't cover enough of the city to show 1A. So I looked up the map on Diadiem.com and wrote what seemed to be the directions to get out of town. But when we got to where I thought I needed to be, I became confused with how to proceed. So I stopped and we asked for directions to My Tho, the first main stop in the Delta. The man kindly led us back the way we came, into district six and straight to METRO, the department store. Flustered by this misunderstanding caused by our poor pronunciation, I pull out the map and point to where we wanted to go. The man nods knowingly and points back the way we came. In all, it took an hour just to get out of the city and on the highway.

The Bumpy Road
Twenty minutes on the highway, lady luck snubbed her finger at us once again in the shape of a flat tire. Unlike the highways of the West, a busy street like this in Vietnam means a lot of business opportunity. All along the highway are simple mechanic stops and Cafe Vong's, which provide coffee in the shade and the comfort of a hammock. We blew a flat right next to a pit stop and got patched for 30,000VND. But a patch wasn't enough and ten minutes later we were flat again and buying a new tube for another 100,000VND. Worried that so much bad luck so soon was a bad omen, we contemplated turning back. But the thought of being stuck in Saigon with nothing to do for a week was too depressing, so in the end we got back on the bike and pushed on.
Along the highway were families traveling in our directions with gift hampers and bags loaded on their bikes, no doubt on the way to visit relatives in the Delta. This was a comforting sight, as they were all making a similar trip on bikes that were in no better shape than ours. When we told our friends back home what we were planning they would look at my bike and say, 'on that?' Seeing the other bikes on the road, no less derelict than mine, infused us with a bit more confidence than we started out with.
When we got to My Tho we realized that we didn't have time to stop and have a look if we wanted to make it to Can Tho, where we wanted to spend the night, before sunset. With only a week, we had to keep a pretty strict schedule for ourselves so we pushed on and stopped at a hammock place on the highway for some Hu Tieu and the what was the milkiest Ca Phe Sua I've ever had. The hammocks were the perfect treatment for a sore backside.

[Daphne's fake Roxy bag]

As the sun neared its descent, we crossed a magnificent suspension bridge just before Vinh Long where many travelers had stopped their bikes at the top to enjoy a vast view of the Delta, while being sold cold beverages by merchants.

Another half hour and we reached a despicably filthy town called Binh Minh where we had to catch the ferry into Can Tho. The streets here were filled with trash, mostly burnt plastic. It may have been the result of 'cleansing' before Tet, but nowhere in the Delta did we find anything this bad. We were glad to be done with it and at the ferry, just as night had begun to fall. The ferry trip cost a mere 2,500VND and found us packed with a hundred or so other motorbikes heading to see their families. Some people carried yellow flowered plants, like Cai May, a uniquely Vietnamese custom, not even Daphne knew what purpose it held. As we crossed the ferry, we could see another beautiful suspension bridge that looked completed but had no traffic on it. Perhaps the road will be finished there soon and the trip to Binh Minh can be avoided in the future.


Can Tho
Can Tho is a small town that tourists go to if they want to visit one of the floating markets. Our plan was to go visit one early in the morning before heading back on the road, but first we needed to find a place to stay and eat. We picked Lonely Planet recommended Xuan Mai. The staff was friendly, the price was only $12, but the room looked like a hospital room. Still, we were too weary to fuss about town looking for the ideal accommodations, so we took the room and then a much needed shower before heading out to explore the town.
The town itself isn't much. Most of the action was on the river, which had a small tourist market, a few unimpressive restaurants, a gaudy bar called New Cafe, and a lot of tourists, mostly Vietnamese. Across from the market, a stage was set up where some youths were putting on an impressive break dance session, a novelty like this I would be surprised to see in Saigon, let alone in the heart of the Mekong Delta. Tired and hungry, we went for another guidebook recommendation, Phuong Nam, which would prove to be one of the many ways Lonely Planet would fail us on our journey. The food was okay enough, until the next morning.

[Selling plants with yellow flowers is a common sight during Tet]

The loudest business man makes the sale]

Back in the Hospital Room
When I woke up the morning of Tet Eve, I knew that the floating markets weren't going to happen. Food poisoning. The frog legs I had the night before weren't as good as their taste suggested. Fortunately for Daphne, she has an aversion to the delicacy so she was fine. I had to send her on a pharmacy mission while I hid under the blankets, seeking sensory deprivation. Light treated me no better than it treats a vampire and even the sound of the refrigerator was like a drilling on my skull. After some medicine and much purging, it was already 11 and leaving was a must.

[Daphne never passes on a photo op]

I don't know what it is about driving, but it somehow made me feel better. When we would make stops, for gas or to replace Daphne's recently destroyed flipflops, I would feel ill again, but as soon as I started to drive I felt better. So drive I did, until I felt I was well enough to stop for a break and without feeling ill. We stopped for sugarcane and hammocks, I ate my first meal of the day: an apple. Just as we were getting ready to leave, a man came from inside the house behind the hammock stop and invited me to share in some of their rice wine. While not being in the state to start drinking, I was in even less of a state to pass on hospitality. We joined them on the ground for some drink and a bit of food as they shared a joke or two, no doubt at our expense.


Along Canals and Coasts
The 120 km drive from Can Tho was more scenic, running alongside a canal, and quieter, although not in as good of a state as the one from HCMC. We arrived to Rach Gia on the western coast of the Mekong Delta, hoping to catch a ferry to the island of Phu Quoc. Unfortunately, the last ferry had gone already that day, and the next day was Tet, so the ferries would be closed. Instead of resigning to stay there for two nights with nothing to do, we decided to use the daylight and drive another 90 km north to Ha Tien, near the Cambodian border. The road there was even more beautiful than the other roads we'd traveled so far, with the exception of a couple of cement factories and the speed strips and bumpy roads that threatened to destroy my suspension. On our left Vietnam's coastline opened to a beautiful sunset and on our right was forest, paddy fields and little shacks. Ha Tien was even smaller than Can Tho and with even less to do in the town itself. But it was in a good proximity to some other sights we could explore the next day, since a ferry would be impossible from there as well until the 15th. When we arrived at the hotel, Daphne received a beauty mark that's sported by many Vietnamese girls, an oval shaped exhaust burn on the back of her right calf. Burns are nasty things, looking fine when they happen, but monstrous a few days later.

[Along Vietnam's very small western coastline]

Karaoke New Year
We showered and went out looking for some festivities, but the closest thing we could find was a group of men hosting karaoke in the street, blaring out of eight giant speakers. We joined them for a bit and drank with them from their community cup. They got us to sing Hotel California, which we butchered thanks to the keyboardist, who was drunk and didn't know when to switch from verse to chorus. For some strange reason, the town seemed almost completely empty with the exception of gangs of children who ran around the streets at night asking for lucky money. Perhaps that's reason enough for the adults to stay in hiding. We went to bed that night early, barely able to stay awake long enough to greet the Year of the Tiger.

First Day of the Year
The next day, we woke up to the sounds of drums in the street. Teens were performing Lion Dances in stores and in the roads, a blessing of sorts that will be performed for the next fifteen days until the next full moon. Megaphones installed on electric posts spewed out speeches and patriotic songs in the town and the countryside. We decided to take the bike out and explore the lay of the land. But the tank was empty and we soon found out that all the gas stations were closed for the day. No matter, there were enough people selling gas outside of their houses at a hiked rate that finding gas wasn't a problem, though the extra charges did sting.


We went to a nearby cave pagoda we read about in LP called Thach Dong. It was small and crowded with praying tourists so we left after having a quick look and headed for another cave complex called Da Dung[not in LP], which was recommended by our hotelier. The limestone mountain consisted of a long trail up and down with some 14 caves throughout. With the exception of one Quanyin statue, the caves only had urns for incense and a mat to pray on in front of the urn. Daphne and I were adopted by a group of youths who were exploring the mountain. These youths, armed with nothing but a flashlight and bottles of water, were intent to look into every crevasse within the mountain, as if they were expecting to find treasure in there somewhere. If they found a hole big enough to fit a body in it, there they went. If a ledge had enough hand holds, they were climbing it. I followed them on a couple of their adventurous routes, only to find that the mountain had so many bottomless drops in it, its a wonder the whole thing doesn't collapse from its own hollowness. This mountain was a truly excellent find, something like this in the States would be much more restricted due to its lack of safety. I'm certain that the mountain has claimed a few lives to its belly over the years. If you visit this place be sure to bring plenty of water, flashlights and friends. At the bottom of the mountain we posted at a hammock spot near a lotus field and drank some Ca Phe Sua, taking a much needed rest. With not so much daylight left, we decided to drive the 30 km to Duong Beach and watch the sun set on the water.




Don't Ride at Night
The beach is quiet and calm, with no real potential for beach tourism due to the poor sand. We enjoyed a beer, in hammocks again, and when the sun descended we payed our tab and headed back for town. As the sun went down, I had to keep my sunglasses on for as long as I could to avoid the sting of night insects that splattered in our faces. Worse than the night insects that stung the face and eyes, was the ever present danger presented by bicycles, which rode through the night without any reflectors and showed no concern when faced with the sound of engines and horns behind them. After a couple close brushes, we decided that the Delta at night was definitely to be avoided.


Ferry to Phu Quoc
We woke up early the next morning for the ferry to Phu Quoc, which cost 190,000 each plus another 110,000 for the bike. The boat looked sleek and fast, and so it was, but due to the small round windows that were posted too high to see the horizon, I found myself more ill on this boat trip than I have ever in my life been by air or sea travel. I spent the majority of the hour and a half with my eyes closed, fingers squeezing the bridge of my nose as I hyperventilated into a plastic bag. Daphne was ill too, but not nearly as bad. In fact, the male passengers on the boat were evidently more sick than the females. Even when we arrived I couldn't break my meditation until it was time to get off the ship. Fortunately we were going to spend three nights on the island before I had to get back on another boat.

An Island with Few Flaws
We cut through the island, which Daphne noted after looking at a map is larger than her homeland, Singapore, and made our way down Long Beach along a road that alternated between gravel and red dirt, to Lam Ha Eco Resort, where I had made a reservation for $20 a night. The place, however, was not worth the price tag nor the mention in LP. In the room there was a calender that showed June 2008, which was probably the last time the room had been cleaned. The TV had seven channels, but they were all the same one. When we asked where the beach was they pointed us to a road and said, '70 meters'. When we walked down that road we were surprised by a beautiful cluster of bungalows with hammocks on their porches right on the beach that were cleaner than the rooms at Lam Ha and for the same price. We made a note to move the next day.


The beach itself was perfect. White sand, calm waters, virtually no tourists and we only saw one jet ski[the scourge of beach peace]. Long Beach was just that, long. Long and mostly undeveloped. There are some beaches on other parts of the island that are even more deserted, but we found that making the trip was completely unnecessary as we had all we could want right there in our front yard. When the sun set, it set right in front of us, reflecting a beam of light on the water that ran perfectly perpendicular with the sand. We drove in to the town of Duong Dong to have a tasty and cheap meal in the night market, and joined some French expats from China in a nice place called Le Bistro.



Picnic at the Spring
We made the move to the bungalows the next day and after arranging with the owner for some ferry tickets to Rach Gia, for a surprisingly meager 50,000 VND, we drove into the heart of the island to visit Suoi Da Ban, a natural spring. Being the dry season, the spring consisted of a trickle of water flowing along the boulders and an occasional pool. As we followed the stream up the boulders we passed many picnickers along the way, eating fruit, drinking beers, listening to cellphone music and of course, leaving their trash behind. Its something we witnessed throughout our trip in the Delta, no real trash service or environment education means rubbish in every backyard, which, for most people in the Delta, meant a river. We managed to walk far up enough to escape the sounds of cellphone music to enjoy some shade and dip our feet in a pool of water that was cleaner than the rest we saw on our way up. The peace was short lived. As many as five small groups ascended and set up camp, disturbing our short lived peace. On our way back down, we were invited for a couple warm beers by some picnickers and followed our tradition by accepting their hospitality.

[Sadly, that mess wasn't going anywhere]

Trapped on an Island?
When we got back to the hotel after dinner, the hotelier informs us the bad news: there are no tickets off the island until the 22nd. Very big problem. I had work on the 20th, there's no way this could be right that we had to be stuck on the island for another five days because of no boat. Was the transportation really that poorly managed?
We decided to look in town the next day, surely a proper travel agency could help us out, we thought. Worse case scenario, we can always hire some drunk in a fishing boat, though that would take some five hours, and the bike would probably fall through the bottom of the boat. We tried to rest our minds with a night walk on the beach. Daphne, who was convinced that we get more stars in America than in Asia, was pleasantly surprised that night when she looked to see a gorgeous array of stars. We had a brief argument over the constellation that she called The Plow, but I knew as Ursa Major. As the sky glittered, so did the sand from the phosphorescent plankton, that lit up with every step.
Thankfully, we were able to settle things at a travel agency in town the next day, buying ferry tickets at 250,000 VND a pop. We spent the rest of the day as we had spent the first, enjoying the beach for one last time and doing nothing. At sunset, we took a walk and I took some yoga pictures of Daphne on the beach.



Back to the Delta
I was dreading the boat ride back, which this time would take two and a half hours. To my pleasant surprise, the trip wasn't nearly as rocky, and the windows were bigger and lower so I could keep my eyes on the horizon and felt fine. Even managed a small nap. The ride back from Rach Gia seemed to go by much more quickly than the first time and we were back in Can Tho before we knew it. This time, fed up with Lonely Planet's 'research' we searched for a room ourselves and found one that was cheaper and better than the hospital room from before.
We arranged a three hour trip to a floating market for $10 for 6am the next day and headed to the market where we drank Saigon Do's by the river and shared a pork belly hot pot. The hot pot came with a side plate of instant noodles that you could add and two eggs. When Daphne went to crack one of the eggs she found it oddly difficult. As she pulled it apart she let out a scream as some thick bloody mess poked out of the shell. Dropping it on a plate she hid her face behind my back as the table next to us laughed. Later, a woman from the table brought over her ladle to show us what we were missing. In it was something in the shape of a tree mushroom and bland white in colour. 'Baby,' says Daphne to the woman. 'No! No baby,' she replies and offers it to us. Daphne isn't interested to take the chance but being more curious when it comes to food I went ahead and ate it. The taste and texture is comparable to that of egg white, nothing too special. I ask the lady to clarify what it was. 'It's the thing that becomes a duck.' To which Daphne replies, 'so it is baby?' And the woman nods, 'yes, baby'. Duck fetus. Not that big of a deal after all, though I guess its different in a hotpot versus boiled in its shell.


Floating Market
On our last morning, we were out on a small row boat before the sun had even lifted itself over the horizon. In this three hour boat trip I took more pictures than the last week in the Delta. Our boatman took us to see the market, where people were selling mostly watermelon, pineapples, cabbages and other produce. There were even boats selling noodle soup and beverages. After a tour of the market and some breakfast, our boatman took us on a trip through several canals that at times reminded me of scenes from Apocalypse Now. We passed by houses that faced the river, witnessing people starting their day by brushing their teeth, washing their hair or doing the laundry in the river. As we floated along the quiet water we felt like we couldn't have ended the trip on a better note.

[Our captain]

[A merchant makes her way]

[No strangers to dental hygiene]

[Breakfast time]

[VIP parking]



[Daphne enjoys the ride through the canal]

The Easy Road
When we returned to town we were back on the bike for the final journey home. Leaving at a more suitable hour, we had the luxury to stop twice along the way at Cafe Vong's for couple siesta naps in a hammock. As we rolled back into Saigon, after our 800km+ adventure, I said to Daphne that half the fun of a trip like this, is making it back home.

[Bringing home a gift from the family]