Roadtrip, Vietnam style!

After a few days in Saigon and surrounding areas, I hit the road for greener pastures. With only a bus ticket, a bottle of water, and one clean set of clothes, I boarded my minibus to begin my journey up the coast to my final destination in Vietnam, Hanoi. Like most tourists, I opted for the "open tour" bus. It allows you to buy a ticket for a designated number of stops along the way; you can get off at any of the stops at any time; and you get back on whenever you want. It's not a bad deal and it's a pretty easy way to explore the country. Granted, the bus line keeps you on the beaten path, but if you're not spending an inordinate amount of time in Vietnam, there's simply no way around that.

The first stop was a small beach town called Mui Ne. It 'should' be a three hour drive from Saigon, but due to traffic and rain and some of the worst "highways" ever designed, it took about six hours. I know I've complained about this before, but it still amazes me: the "highways" are basically just roads, often unpaved, that are one lane in each direction. If you get caught behind a truck or, as sometimes happens, a herd of cattle, well that's just too bad. On the bright side, you might have a crazy driver (not unusual) who'll try to pass the vehicle in front even if there is oncoming traffic, as it was with our bus driver. Several times I thought we were headed for collisions, and once - not kidding - I braced myself for impact. Seriously, I put my whole left side of my body flush with the seat in front of me and grabbed my backpack as extra cushion. I watched with terror as the seconds passed like hours and the headlights became brighter and brighter. People often say they see a light just before they die; well, I saw two: the headlights from a 1996 Toyota Previa. My minibus came within about six inches of hitting the Previa at 80 lm per hour. Just once, why can't I have an smooth and non-near-death-experience on a bus in Southeast Asia?

Anyway, back to the important stuff. Mui Ne is a tiny town whose population can explode during the busy beach season. This was not the busy beach season; there wasn't a soul around. I got off the bus at 9:30 pm and walked around a little to compare beach resorts. I settled on a smaller one and when I asked for a room, the receptionist took me to one of the three (out of 35) bungalows right on the beach. Yup, the place was empty. I woke up the next morning on the late side and took this picture around noon. Notice the absence of any human beings. It was really weird. It's not like the place is off the map or crappy to crash at for a few days. Mui Ne is the closest beach to Saigon and it's a nice little town; the beach is a miles-long stretch of fine white sand and the water, while not crystal clear, is clean and warm. The town is also very nice to walk around because it's just a single stretch of road behind the resorts with plenty of restaurants, bars, boutiques, ice cream stands, etc. But I really felt like I woke up in one of those movies where some virus has killed off everyone but me. Don't get me wrong, it was great to have the beach to myself. But eerie. Very eerie... Since I was alone, I made friends with this hammock. I called him Hammie. We laughed. We cried. We waxed philosophic. I was sad to see him go, but we promised each other we'd write. (I was reluctant to leave such a nice beach setting but, let me tell you, the Vietnam sun is an angry sun. It burns ferociously. You can't spend more than 20 minutes on the beach without feeling like you're a pig on the roast. It would only take a few minutes for me to get that sweat puddle in my belly-button... I drank four large bottles of water in two hours and didn't have to use the restroom. FYI - that's the proper measure of heat in Vietnam: how many bottles of water you drink before you piss. My two days in Mui Ne registered about a four and five, respectively.)

Mui Ne is also known for something truly bizarre given that it's in the middle of a tropical jungle: sand dunes. It's palm trees and mosquitoes as far as the eye can see and then, ribbons of orange sand. The best part is that local kids hang out at the dunes and offer to teach tourists how to properly slide down them. Eight kids swarmed me the second I hit the sand. Here they are helping to set up the perfect slide - it requires a little "topsand" to reduce friction and therefore increase speed. The ride lasts all of four seconds, but it's super fun. Then I spent a hilarious 30 minutes getting the kids to explain, in broken English, who should get the only money I had on me at the time, which was a five dollar bill. One kid was a pretty smooth talker so he ended up with the money despite the fact that he looked to be the youngest.

After two days in Mui Ne, I headed inland to a town called Da Lat. Da Lat is in the central highlands - four hours inland from the beach and about 4,000 feet up. As a result, it's blissfully cool. During the two days I was there, the temperature never reached anything higher than 80 degrees. It was the first time in over a month I didn't sweat profusely within five minutes of stepping outside my hotel room. Da Lat is on the beaten path, but not really. Since it's a bit of a pain to get to - the road is narrow, windy, and treacherous (and caused the guy sitting across the aisle from me on the bus to vomit ) - it's often overlooked by travellers. (I get the sense it's also overlooked by younger travellers because it's not a town where you can really party.) Let's put it this way: if you wanted to visit six cities in Vietnam but only had time for five, you'd likely drop Da Lat from your schedule. This would be a shame because Da Lat is a very nice town on a lake. There's nothing spectacular about it, but it has a comfortable feel and you get the sense that you're actually in a real Vietnamese city. I was told that the thing to do is hire a motorcycle driver to show you around for the day. So I did. These guys call themselves "Easy Riders" and speak pretty decent English and actually explain things in a way that makes sense, which I've found to be rare. Over the span of about six hours, he took me to several interesting sights, like one of the summer palaces of the last king of Vietnam (built in the 30's) and this famous pagoda that's been around for hundreds of years. At the pagoda, I met a monk who spoke excellent English. He started by asking me where I was from, how long was I staying in Vietnam, etc., but eventually I turned the conversation to him and he was a fountain of information about Vietnam, Buddhism, and being a monk. When I asked him how long he'd been a monk, he said, "14 years, but I may eventually return to living an earthly lifestyle," and gave me a wry smile. I assume that was a nice way of saying he wanted to have sex again at some point, but I figured I was overstepping my limits by asking him to clarify...

Perhaps the best payoff for visiting Da Lat is the road to the next town I visited, Nha Trang. This "road" is not the same road that you travel when entering Da Lat - it's so much better. Not the road itself - all roads suck here - but the view: amazing. It's a less windy but more picturesque view of the seemingly endless pine forest covering infinite rolling hills. For at least a good 45 minutes, there's not a trace of human development (except the road, of course). It's green as far as the eye can see, and then more green.

I arrived in Nha Trang ready to be sizzled by the sun again and I wasn't disappointed. Unlike Mui Ne, this is more than just a beach resort town - it's a major city with major tourism, as evidenced by the big name hotels (Sofitel, Sheraton, etc.) towering over the beach. So the beach is well-populated by locals and tourists alike. It's white sand about 5 miles long and maybe 30-40 yards deep. The water is super clear but some trash is visible on the beach and in the water. After the beach, there's a walking path and some green space, then a major boulevard and then the buildings begin. It's like Venice beach in L.A., or, if I recall correctly, the beach in Miami. I settled in and let the sun do its damage for a day. But I had an experience on the beach that I can't let go of without mentioning. It's one of those things that makes me ask, "what the fuck is wrong with people?!" So I find a stretch of beach where people are about 70 yards apart. What do I do? Naturally, I space myself 35 yards from each group of people so that everyone, including me, has their privacy and some peace and quiet. Isn't that standard? Hasn't the worldwide beach-going community tacitly agreed that you space yourself equally from other beach goers? Apparently not. Not less 10 minutes after plopping down, a couple sits down about 5 yards from me, thereby leaving about 30 yards from the next-closest people on the beach. Um, what? Why would you do that to me? And why would they do that to themselves - don't they want a little privacy? My conclusion: those tourists (whose nationality remains unknown) suck at life. But then it happened again, the next time with some locals. So I ask, once again, what the fuck is wrong with people?

This wasn't my only strange experience on the beach, and it brings me to David Newman's Ten Random Observations (To Date) About Vietnam, Vietnamese People, And Life. These are in no particular order:

1. Vietnamese people, mainly men, urinate anywhere and everywhere. I saw it repeatedly happen against walls, behind cars, in alleyways. I thought, "Ok, I can accept that. If you gotta pee, you gotta pee." But then I saw it happen at the beach. And by at the beach, I mean ON the beach. Guys would just whip it out and pee in the sand. Which is strange, for two reasons. First, they're at the beach, so why not just walk into the water. I'm ok with peeing in the ocean. The ocean is the world's largest urinal. But in the sand, in front of everyone? Not ok. Second, this beach had public bathrooms. So why not walk the same distance to a place where the urine is supposed to go, instead of a place where someone may want to lay down later and relax?

2. The Vietnamese language uses Roman characters. I'll admit, I didn't know that until I got here. This can lead to some hilarious looking words if you think of them as being in English, like this hotel sign. Call me crazy, but if I were operating a tourist-related business that catered to English speakers, I'd make sure the name of my hotel didn't include a slang word for fecal matter. But that's just me. The Vietnamese language also has six - six! - different accent marks, often with one accent mark on top of another. (Frequently I'll see what looks like a rainbow below what looks like an apostrophe.) I think there should be a universal one-accent-mark-per-letter rule instituted worldwide. If you need two accent marks on a single letter, just come up with a new letter or vowel to symbolize that sound.

3. Common to many crowded countries, there's no personal space here. At all. And people touch a lot, which I don't stand for. I want to say, "I don't know you, man. Let go of my elbow." Or, "Please stop rubbing against me." Not cool, people. Not cool.

4. Along the same lines, people here tend to speak very loudly at all times with no consideration for volume modifications. Quiet restaurant - loud. Bus at night when people are trying to sleep - loud. I don't get it. (One commonality with Americans - people are just as rude with cell phones, i.e., answering the phone at a table in a restaurant or talking loudly when others are trying to sleep on a bus. If looking down on these as rude makes me a prissy bitch, so be it. But I stand for manners.)

5. The roads suck. I've covered this ground before.

6. Walking down the street, random people will say, "Hello. Where you from?" I usually am honest and say "USA," but every now and then I tell people I'm from Spain or Germany, or I give them the old line from the Coneheads skit on SNL, "I come from France." Yet it doesn't seem to matter because - and this is the weird part - most of them don't understand my response regardless of what I say. Somehow all they learned in English was "Hello. Where you from?" Whatever my answer, I usually just get blank stares.

7. I'm not used to getting the "look at that tall white guy stare", but I'm getting a lot of it here. Sometimes it's benign but sometimes people - usually younger-looking girls - come up to me, giggle, then run off to their friends who laugh and point. Thanks. Thanks a lot. It's nice to feel like a circus freak.

8. Along with the crappy roads, people use their car horns like it's a drug. I estimate that there's a 40% chance that at any given moment, a driver of any type of vehicle is honking his or her horn. They do it to warn others of their presence; to signal that they're about to pass on the left (or right); to cut through traffic; and probably a whole host of reasons I don't understand. It becomes just a cacophony of horn honking. So forget trying to sleep on the bus - the driver is honking away like there's no tomorrow. With one particularly angry bus driver, I started to time how long he was honking his horn to get other vehicles to move to the right so he could pass. The longest time I measured was 11 seconds! Doesn't seem that bad? Next time you're on the road, hold down your horn for 11 consecutive seconds. Trust me, it's a long time.

9. Europeans smell. I don't get it. Not all, to be fair, but many. Too many. It boggles my mind; it befuddles me; it leaves me speechless. First, it's so hot and humid out that, during the day, everyone probably sweats out four or five pounds of water. You feel disgusting when you get back to your hotel; you get that grimy feel that makes you yearn for a shower. If you don't feel the desperate need to bathe every night, something is seriously wrong. And that's just it - I think they go without showering. Second, I think it's a lack of deodorant use. I fail to understand this. It's not that hard nor that expensive. Me: I'm a loyal Right Guard user. Three swipes for each armpit - up, down, up. It takes me 5 seconds at most, and sometimes if I'm in an rush I'll multi-task and do it when I'm brushing my teeth. It's really pretty basic. How is it that an entire continent of people from industrialized, modern countries have missed this basic step in their morning routine?

10. Beer is everywhere in Vietnam. People sell it in the streets like it's Coke, literally. As far as I can tell, anyone can drink it anywhere at any time. You have to respect a country that supports rampant alcohol consumption...

Anyway, where was I? Oh yes, Nha Trang. I spent a few more days in Nha Trang enjoying the beach, including a boat trip around the bay. I thought this was just a tour boat that would take us to various snorkeling spots (which it did), but it was really just an excuse for a booze cruise. About 40 people, mainly young tourists, packed in for non-stop beer and banana whiskey. If you think about it, this combination - deep ocean and hard liquor - is probably not a safe way to go. But fuck safety, this was fun. At one point, they set up a floating bar and we all got inner tubes and swam out to the bar and drank whiskey while letting the warm breeze of the South China Sea gently cool us down. It was one of those moments where I looked to the sky and smiled and nodded, just because the moment wouldn't be right without a sly smile and a silent nod to the heavens for letting me have such a fine day. After we came back to the beach, a bunch of us from the boat got pizza and beers for dinner, and then I passed out. I'd trade a thousand tomorrows for another day like that.

After three days in Nha Trang, it was time to move on. Another bus, another city...

PS: I'm aware of the typos and grammar mistakes, but I'm writing these posts in cramped, hot, smoky, noisy internet cafes in Third World countries, so don't expect Shakespeare.