Leaving for the Peanut Sauce

When you opt out of taking a hotel for the night before your flight, and instead wander the streets, eating and drinking whatever you want, at your own leisure (and pleasure)... quite often there are consequences... and I always pay them.

I got back to the airport around midnight and had a lovely sleep on a delightful little bench, clutching my new authentically knocked-off red Prada purse close to me...

I went from sleeping in the airport to sleeping the entire flight from HCMC to Beijing.  At this point, I really thought that I'd won the war. I had managed to keep myself up so long that the 21.5 in-transit was going to be handed to me like a piece of cake.

Trouble was though... it wasn't technically handed to me like a piece of cake... it was handed to me more in the form of... some Bleu cheese pizza.

That's right....

No rest for the wicked and those who make foolish decisions before long flights are often punished. I was no exception to the rule.

I don't think that I had been on the plane from Beijing to Vancouver a total of 10 minutes before it hit me.

Bathroom.

Now.

The plane hadn't even moved, yet the seat belt signs were already on.  Panic was setting in... and then I just ran.  It was GO time. That's where it started... 3:30pm in Beijing until 10am in Vancouver.

Bathroom... pass out... nausea... bathroom... pass out... nausea...

On and on...

Nothing in life... nothing... nothing meant more to me during those crucial hours than my airplane vomit bag. Difficult to fathom, but I even passed up TWO Air China meals. Rice, to boot. I was Dierks Bentley... but instead of getting drunk on a plane, I was getting sick on a plane.

... "how do you like Bleu cheese pizza now, Joanna?"...

Once landing in Vancouver, I changed out of summer attire in to rain attire and hit the Canada Line to take me to Waterfront Station... where I planned to get something (not rice) in to my system to kill the bug that had spent the last 10 & 1/2 hours stripping years off my life.

I did eat... I guzzled water... and I even ordered a glass of wine. Regardless of the sleep I had/had not... I could not keep my eyes open... and there remained still 3 hours until my train departed for Mission.  Undeniably a rare occurrence, I couldn't even finish my wine... I headed back out in to the drafty train station to pass out on my luggage. No one could stop me.

Turns out someone could stop me.

Picture me, passed out on a wooden bench, downtown Vancouver, Waterfront Station... suddenly there's a mall cop poking my arm, shining a flashlight in my eyes and asking, "Ma'am... are you OK? Can you hear me? Do you need medical attention?"

Yes... yes, I do need medical attention. And a bed pronto.

Guess you can't sleep in Waterfront Station.  It's a rule I was not privy to... but then again, I'd never had occasion to find out on a first hand basis before. Shitty rule if you ask me. 

As I sat up, groggily, I caught wind of the most overwhelming stench of urine. I was about to make a snide remark about how it was against the rules to sleep, but fine to urinate all over the place... when I looked around and realized that all the local bums had begun to congregate around my new bedroom. One of them was even so bold as to ask me for money. All I had was dong... and dong don't buy no drugs here... 

...unless, of course, you derive another meaning from that sentence...

I would now like to take this opportunity to write down all the things that I take away from Vietnam. I remember meeting Blaire at the Vancouver Airport and I asked him, "What will be the one big thing that I'll take away from my visit to Vietnam?

He pondered the question momentarily and then replied,

"You'll be thankful you don't live there..."

1. Download all city maps to your phone. This will save oodles of time. Especially if you depend on WiFi. Much easier than walking backwards and forwards, trying desperately to figure out where you are on the tourist map your hotel gave you. Glad that I discovered this little trick on November 20th...

2. Pedestrians have no rights. Cars, buses, and motorbikes TAKE the right-of-way, regardless of it they deserve it. Never assume vehicles will stop for you. You need to become one with the road if you ever want to cross.

3. Don’t let your guard down on sidewalks. They’re actually overflow lanes for when traffic gets bad... bringing us right back to pedestrians have no rights! And don't forget they're also moped parking lots...

4. The Vietnam War is the American War. You would assume there would be a certain level of animosity for the Americans, but surprisingly, there isn’t any. Despite all the destruction, people killed and marred, historical monuments destroyed… they really do embrace the American culture. Surreal.

5. Canada's Occupational Health and Safety program is actually not too bad. Bamboo ladders, flip-flops in construction sites, welders shielding their eyes with their hands, scaffolding held together by twine, electrical wires in hideous bundles, sliding down slippery rock with bike helmets on...

6. Learn some Vietnamese. I didn't and it sucked. I still managed to get by... but I should have made more of an effort. The Vietnamese are so willing to help and they really appreciate any effort you put in to speaking their language, while at the same time, take every opportunity to try and practice their English. I showed up in their country, not knowing a word of their language… and leave knowing how to say “Thank you”… and that’s even questionable. I might actually be saying “Shut Up.” 

Cam- iun is Shut up. Câm miệng 

Cam -un is Thank you. Cảm ơn

Nerve racking similarity... if you ask me...

DO;

1. Take sunscreen... wherever you go! The sun is NOT your friend.
2. Bring extra luggage. Shopping will overpower you.
3. Keep your eyes on your bathing suits.
4. Get a massage every day... so cheap.
5. Rent a moped... just for the experience. (see below #5 under Do Not)
6. Eat the street food. Banh Mi is the best sandwich you'll ever have.
7. Drink Vietnamese coffee.
8. Bring toilet paper everywhere you go. And baby wipes! And then bring more toilet paper. You will NOT regret this decision.
9. Bring Ziploc bags. Someone suggested this to me and I could not have lived without them.
10. Negotiate everything - from taxi prices to purchasing a silk kimono!! If you think it's too much to pay... walk away! They will follow you and make it cheaper.
11. Read all the small print on the Vietnam Visa requirements before you enter the country. Bring two passport size photos of your dumb face.
12. Try the Vang Dalat.

DO NOT;

1. Don't over pack.
2. Don't lose sight of your bathing suits.
3. Don't take the train... as much as you love the idea of a soft seat and as romantic as it sounds. It's cramped, outdated and slow.
4. Don't accept plastic bags if you don't need them.
5. Don't rent a moped... you will probably die... and when you do, insurance won't cover you.
6. Don't expect peanut sauce.
7. Don't be suckered in to staying at crap hotels because they're cheap. Spend the extra $5. Go for the good pillows.
8. Don't drink the Vang Dalat.
9. Don't drink the rice wine... or the corn wine...
10. Don't eat a Bleu cheese pizza before your flight.

GET USED TO;

1. The horking. It's everywhere. Men and woman and children. All day long. Everywhere you go. Horking up their phlegm. It's a thing. 
2. A family of 5 on a moped.
3. Kids without helmets.
4. Rickshaws following you everywhere trying to entice you to take a ride. 
5. The trash... it's everywhere. 
6. The horn. The soundtrack to Vietnam.
7. Rice.

The Vietnamese are lovely people, apart from coughing up mucus and the occasional pushy Patty. Most of the people that I encountered were courteous, obliging and overly accommodating. I really do think that some people I know could benefit by ripping a page out from their hospitably book.

As for the dishonest few, the ones that manage to cheat the tourists, I guess I have to let that go and chalk it up to experience, I rest assured knowing that the $30 they striped off of me isn’t going to lead them to a life of integrity… and one day, their criminal ways will catch up with them. 

Karma’s a bitch.

Looking for peanut sauce...

Ironically I named this blog "Here for the Peanut Sauce," but somehow it just doesn't seem fitting anymore because I barely found any peanut sauce in the entire country!  I had planned to eat my weight in peanut sauce daily... not rice.  

The disappointment is real.

Figuratively speaking now, I'm leaving for the peanut sauce...

Oh... and in case anyone is wondering, I did end up bringing my shit smelling shoes home with me… for the sole purpose of not freezing in Vancouver.  They still smell... they are going in the garbage... and if anyone is looking to get me a "welcome home" present, I'll be accepting gift certificates to Shoe Warehouse all week...

Thanks for reading! 
Tạm biệt

Delivering Wow, Sharing Happiness

Goodbye, Hanoi!
Hello again, Ho Chi Minh!

Today marks my final day in Vietnam...
What an adventure it's been. On just one journey, I have never felt so euphoric. so cultured and so sad at the same time.

There was no time in the morning to do any last minute wandering around Hanoi, as I had originally planned.  By the time I got myself ready, my bags ready... had breakfast… it was pretty much time to book my airport shuttle.

Ride took about 40 minutes and got me there just as my check-in desk opened, so good thing that I didn't spend anytime fluffing around the markets of Hanoi, spending all my money, or that might have left me here, high & dry!

I always worry about running late, due to the silly security checks. 

Airport security is my most absolute abhorred thing about flying... that and waiting for luggage after you've arrived. I hate the security lineups... even when there aren’t lineups, they still make you go through those ridiculous rows of queue maze.

The intimidation of it all is too overwhelming. I get flooded with anxiety and stress...  you never know what to expect.

• Some places you have to remove your shoes.
• Some places you have to remove your rings.
• In Vancouver, they took my Redbull and threw it in the garbage.
• In Ho Chi Minh City, they laughed at my trying to guzzle my water because they didn’t care if I brought liquid on the plane.
• Beijing almost confiscated my battery charger, thinking it was a memory drive. Why would they want my memory drive?

Who knows what they’ll suddenly find in your bags that they don’t like!

Other than that, everything went smoothly. 

As soon as I arrived at HCMC airport, I found the luggage storage area and checked my two bags in for a few hours. They charged about $15 per bag and I figure that I would have paid double for the peace of mind, knowing they were safe (fingers crossed)... and omitting the hassle of not carrying them around the city.

I kept stressing to the girl behind the counter, "You're open 24 hours? You'll be open tonight? You're going to be here when I get back?"

She assured me a million times that she would.

From there I went to catch a taxi...
Well this pirate of a taxi asshole must have seen me coming from miles away and mistook me for ignorant and simple. I can usually claim those characteristics on most other days, but on my last day in Vietnam... no way, Jose.

I needed a taxi in to the city and he was more than willing to accompany me right up to his taxi and agreed to take me anywhere I needed to go in the city.

I have to admit, I was warned about taxi scams and told which taxis to take and which to steer clear of… but it just didn’t cross my mind because he told me the payment would work dependant on what the metre read. Seemed legit.

Maybe I am ignorant and simple?

I'm certainly backing myself in to that corner! I'm actually working myself up to be mad again, as I type this out!

When we arrived at Ben Thanh market, I noticed the metre read 70k dong, so I went to hand him 200k.

"No! No! 700k."

700,000 translates to about $40 Canadian... and although it might sound correct for a taxi in Canada, it is hardly what a taxi in Vietnam costs.  I could have paid for a weeks accommodation with that and he knew it.

Worst picture of me
and a pizza ever

To put it mildly, I lost my shit. Right there, in then middle of the round-about, we had a full on fight. I refused to pay that amount and he went about trying to explain to me why taxis are so much more in Ho Chi Minh City. Bull.

What I should have done is take a picture of his displayed taxi license and told him to alert the police. He would have backed down immediately because what he was doing was illegal.  But I forgot that part in my rage.

Finally I threw him 300k, told him that he was the most horrible person I'd met in Vietnam, got out, slammed the door and took off in to the market.

LIVID. 

This was the first time I had deliberately been ripped off and knew it was happening... besides the crook concierge at the hotel yesterday.

After that, there was no holds barred. I wasn’t taking any shit from anyone in the market. I was out for a deal and whether I did or didn’t get it for all of my last minute purchases, at least I felt fairly confident that I didn’t get completely bamboozled.

Delivering Wow, Sharing Happiness
4P's stands for "For Peace"

I met Emily and her husband for dinner right near the market at a place called Pizza 4p. It was directly across the street and be damned if I could find it. I must have walked by it about 10 times before I stopped in to a tour company and asked the girls sitting at their desks.

Little embarrassing when they point next door...

Emily had sent me the website the night prior, so I had already picked out everything I wanted.  Four cheese fondue to start and a Salmon sashimi pizza for my main. I reconsidered my decision though, as soon as I sat back and thought of the disturbing consequences that those dinner choices might have on my body... on a 21.5 hour plane ride.

Don't applaud me too much for being so brilliant.

I changed my mind to a Caprese salad to start... and then to half 5 cheese / half sashimi pizza. It looked so enticing... and it was recommended... and come to think of it, I've survived much richer foods prior to departures. I'd be fine! Let's throw caution to the wine...

After all, this place was delivering wow... and sharing happiness? 

What could possibly go wrong?

Did I mention that one of the cheeses on the pizza was Blue Cheese?

Can you sense the negative foreshadowing yet?

Their food was heavenly... and not a smidge of rice to be seen!

The company was fabulous and it was nice to actually sit down with a familiar face! After we had said our goodbyes, I wandered off in to the streets to see what I could find to keep me occupied for a few hours before I headed back to the airport.

I got a crappy foot rub from a young kid with a bit red zit on his nose. He couldn’t have been more than 19 or 20. Filled some time. 

And cheap.

Quick mention that Ho Chi Minh City is no exception to the rule when it comes to adhering to everything the mopeds want... and a prime example in the fact that pedestrians have no right of way. Look at them just pulling up and parking on the sidewalk!  We are literally pushed out on the road to walk, where we ultimately end up dodging and weaving even more mopeds.

Life in danger. 

No biggie...

After a few more markets and a couple more wine breaks, I bid the city adieu and caught a taxi back to the airport. 

Before I got in this time though, I made sure that I knew approximately how much it would cost.

"150k dong. No more."

More like it.

I told the taxi driver what the other taxi had tried to charge me and he couldn’t believe it. 

"Very bad!"

I wish I could turn back time and punch some deserving people in the face.

Jona Birda

I spent a large portion of last evening haggling with the hotel 'tour concierge' over the tour I wanted to take today.

The tour was a Full Day Hoa Lu & Tam Coc.

In a nutshell;

Hoa Lu is an ancient capital and Tam Coc (meaning '3 caves') features karst formations and caves that guests explore by boat.

Sounded very similar to every other tour I've done thus far, but the pictures of Tam Coc were so alluring... and the lush green valley looked pretty... it was difficult to talk myself out of doing it. So I figured it would be one more day of enriching my historical knowledge and my last day of appreciating the Vietnamese countryside. And it would also fill my day with culture, as opposed to wandering aimlessly, shopping, eating and wine.

When I first sat down with the concierge, I showed him the online tour that I had been comtemplating booking. It was easy enough for me to press 'BOOK,' pay via credit card (in my own currency) and be done with it.  But I was trying to do the hotel a solid and give them the booking opportunity.

I'm really nice...

He immediately lunged in to this huge spiel about how he had the opportunity to book this unbelievable tour that I would absolutely love... exactly the same one as I'd shown him.  The only difference was that he had slightly more photos in his 'tour book,' providing the wow factor and giving the false impression that it was more than what it actually was.

Same tour... OK... I'll bite.

How much?

He offered me a steal of a deal at $60 US.

I don't know if I choked more on my own disgust or my astonishment!

My tour on line was $46 Canadian.
$60 US does not equal $46 Canadian... nor is it a deal, any way you look at it.
$60 US equals $79.42.

Beat it.

So here I find myself, tired... cranky... needing food (not rice)... siting in a muggy hotel lobby, arguing, in broken English, over the vast difference between the American and Canadian dollar.
His next big move was to try and sell me on a slightly upgraded tour, almost identical but including one more stop on the excursion... for the low, low price of....

...$80US...

Gettin' real mad here...

Three times I attempted to get up and walk out, stating that I was perfectly capable of booking my own tour online, in my own currency. Three times, he called me back to work a deal.

His next move (and he definitely deserves points for trying) was conceding to finally sell me my tour of choice at my requested $46. OK.

Perfect.

He then proceeded to take out his handy little calculator... did all his magic little conversions to Vietnamese dong... and showed me the total of 1,078,305 dong that I owed him for the tour now!

But my sneaky little concierge friend was not sneaky enough to fool me! He was doing conversion from American currency- NOT Canadian. It was beyond frustrating, sitting directly across from him, watching the wheels of deceit turning like a hamster wheel in his head,

Canadian currency would equal 811,180 dong and I wasn't paying ONE dong more.
Actually I did pay a done more... because I took pity on this scheming little cad and I let him round it up to 900,000.

Because I'm nice...

I should not have reconsidered my generosity though, as he charged my credit card an extra 3% on top of the 900,000 dong that I had already rounded up. Not impressed.

In regards to my artificial lawn hotel, as much as I've already complained... I did manage to leave the key in my door for the entire night. No one broke in to my room to steal my stuff. Maybe they did? I don't know, I was sleeping if they did. Maybe they saw my stuff, decided it was crap, and left.

Set my alarm for early to get ready and have the complimentary hotel breakfast...

At around 8:30AM, while I was waiting patiently in the lobby for my $51 tour to show up, this little man ran in, started frantically yelling some random name. Wasn't my name... so I didn't really care and I hardly paid any attention to him.  Everyone else ignored him too... but he kept yelling it.

"Jona Birda!""Jona Birda!"
"Jona Birda!"

Suddenly I started to recognize the parallels and I made a small gesture, signifying that he might be talking about me...

He thrust his clipboard of papers towards me, and I saw my name right there at the top of the tour sheet. Joanna McBride...

That's me.

"Is you? Jona Birda?"

Yes... yes, it is.

Close enough... I guess...

I shouldn't grumble. His name was Zoom.
Sounds a bit made up to me... but definitely fitting for the tour guide names I've encountered so far.

The tour was confusing.

There were two separate tours on our bus... and two tour guides, to boot. They would stand up in intervals and talk about what we were about to be doing... and then when the questions would start rolling in from different passengers, they would just tell us it didn't matter because we weren't going to be doing that activity... and that would be the end of the discussion. It proved to be very complicated and most of us just decided to shut up and go with the flow.  We would remain happy, curious and surprised...

Our first break was at the ever-typical large warehouse located just outside of town - no great difference from any of the others ones we've come across prior to today. The usual - showcasing handicapped people painting, embroidering and sewing diligently. Everything inside was over priced and staff members were in abundance... following us everywhere, pressuring for a sale.

When Zoom got up and announced to all of us that we would be stopping at a nice place for lunch with nice fried rice... I almost plummeted from the bus to my death.

BUT I was pleasantly surprised by lunch. It was an enormous buffet, catering to about 30 other groups. In addition to rice and my other new-not-favourites, there was also shrimp & pork salad rolls, satay sauce, French fries, various noodle dishes, fresh fruit, baguettes...

Such a refreshing change!

Everyone in the group was very nice and I ended up being paired off with Stella, a young girl, from Indonesia. Her English was perfect and she had just completed her Masters in Cambridge University, England.  As we were the two singles on the tour, we ended up sitting together on the bus, boating together, biking together....

If I die... please leave red wine,
jalapeno nachos and salad rolls
with peanut sauce....
please

Now, I kid you not, Stella was Brook Soso from Orange is the New Black. Identical. For all I knew, she could have been that actress. She talked incessantly, fired questions at me all afternoon and I got the impression that she just really wanted to be best friends with everyone. She wore bright red lipstick on and a fair percentage of it stuck to her two front teeth.

The stories behind the temples of Hoa Lu were fascinating. Tales of how the first King rose to power and loved his second son more than the first son... so as legend has it, the first son killed the second son out of jealousy... BUT... in a twist of events, the trusted Captain of the King's army ended up poisoning the King and his first son, so the third son assended the throne at the age of 6... with the help of his mother. Most of the art at Hoa Lu depicted some part of the history in it's carvings and art... like a lady's hand wrapped around the dragon represented the mother of the new King, helping to control all of his moves until he was of age.

There were different rooms in the pagodas and temples dedicated to the worship of each King... and surrounding the centre of worship were items such as Dare Butter Cookies, canned kernel corn, beer, fruit juice, rice wine...

The collection of sacrifices seemed odd to me. I asked Zoom what the significance behind the corn and cookies was and all I really got out of him was "it's food."

Fair enough,

Someone else piped up and mentioned to me that the people like to leave what the Kings enjoyed. I was completely unaware that in the 7th century, Dare Cookies and canned kernel corn existed, but I'm quite proud of this learning journey I'm presently on.

There was a room dedicated solely to the worship of Confucius.  I went in there to look around, pay my respects and I was surprised to see that his room was filled with offerings of dragon fruit and grapefruit...

Guess he wasn't a fan of cookies and corn....

Can you blame him?

The boat ride came after lunch... down the winding river through Tam Coc.  Giving credit where credit is due, the ladies and gentlemen that row these boats with their FEET, they're incredible. I thought I had strong legs after this summer, but I had nothing on them.  This is their livelihood!  Rowing us fat, lazy North Americans around each & every day... their muscle mass must be off the charts.

I think had it been a 15 minute ride... I would have raved about it... but considering that it was over an hour long, I got bored. I stopped taking pictures because after a while, everything looked the same.  The landscape was very similar to that near Ba Be and Ban Gioc.

At about the half way mark on our journey, we encountered some locals selling the usual supplies - beer, water, pineapple, Oreos, red bull, pop...

Adamant to never miss a sale, one of the ladies rowed right up to our boat, offerings in hand , begging us to BUY! BUY! BUY!

No, thank you.

Then she pulled a very sneaky move. She put together a Red bull, some Oreos and a bag of sliced pineapple, then proceeded to hand it to our rower, and said to us "You buy for! He tired! You buy."

Without our consent or reprise, the rower took the supplies with a smile on his face and then we were roped in.

"How much?"

"100,000 dong." 

"No! TOO MUCH." 

BIG rip off. HUGE.

On my bicycle in Tam Coc...
Hard to tell :-)

So what we tried to do was give the rower the 100,000 dong.. and try to explain to him that he could decide what to do with the money. We knew that there wasn't a chance in hell he would spend 100k on those three items. More than likely, he was probably embarrassed at the position we put him in and went in to self defence mode, pretending he didn't know what we were talking about.

Finally we allowed him to keep his goods and handed the 100k dong over- and that was it.  That was his tip and he blew it. I wonder if he lies in bed thinking of all the fun things he could have used that money on.  I do when I'm ripped off.

Back to the boat... my ass got sore and my legs started to cramp up. I just can't sit anymore... this coming from someone who is about to embark on a 21.5 hour plane ride home.

Did I mention that I've run out of my Restless Leg pills?

Sorry... almost run out...

I have 3 left and I have to save them for the flight or I will literally drop dead.

It's crippling...

Due to our boat excursion being so long and drawn out, we missed our window of opportunity to go biking at our leisure. Instead, we had to follow Zoom along the riverbank at a snails pace, enduring his endless, incomprehensible rambling commentary on pretty much everything and nothing... nothing at all.'

He kept stopping us all in EXACTLY the same places that we had previously been in the boat... it was infuriating.

"Stop here for to take nice photo"... and he would insist we all adhere to his request / demand. Then I got annoyed and stopped following suit...

Already got a photo here. Thanks, I'm good.

"Take group photo!"

This was another Zoom favourite. Four times I got off my bike, put the kick stand down and stood there smiling like an idiot, getting my photo taken with a group of strangers - none of which I knew and none of which I would ever see again... then I thought "fuck it" and continued biking along the path, with Stella close behind.

She wouldn't leave her new bestie, after all...

Worth our Weight in Rice

I just can't proceed without making mention about the fact that my body's reaction to this country has not been what I intended... nor what I anticipated....

I have hardly touched bread (except toast for breakfast), had almost zilch in the Diet Coke & Redbull category, consumed minimal wine (at least not in the copious amount to which I have previously become accustomed) and I often fear that I might actually drown due to the amounts of water I drink on a daily basis.

My dessert at every step of the journey has been watermelon... except for ice cream once. And do not give me this 'twice' business, because I didn't eat the gob of freezer-burnt orange crap.

I should be fading away... but yet, here I stand... thick, steadfast and true.

Selfies have been not bad... hitting the perfect light, angling my iPhone camera and the ever-so subtle tilt of the face manages to work wonders for the fantasy of miniature me... but if only you knew the amount of selfies and self-timer photos I've trashed. My face is bloated, my thighs are thick, my arms are wide, my stomach is bulging out of my pants... the list goes on... It's quite exhausting trying to 'photographically' prove I was here.

And I really needn't mention my ankles and feet again...

Line me up with the itty-bitty Vietnamese girls and get me a guest appearance on Dr. Phil... that's how I feel.

Oh well...

Blame the rice.

Have I mentioned that I'm sick of rice?

I hate rice...

***Jump to Present Times...***

OK... not a word of a lie, but as I sit here writing this blog, the overbearing little lady working breakfast at my hotel will not stop buzzing around me, inundating me with questions.

Why you not eat soup? 

Where you go today? 

Where you go yesterday? 

Why you no have more pineapple? 

Why you drink coffee? 

Why you no eat more?

Retaining water in a cave...

While I'm trying to politely ignore her and deflect this unwanted attention... I open up Photos on my computer. I'm keeping myself busy cropping, adding light & filters... in a desperate attempt to appear tall, thin and beautiful in each image. You know the procedure - add definition, reduce the fat-factor, trim down the bloated, erase the blotches... etc etc...

Dare I say... this 'gem' of breakfast lady is one of those people that is perhaps slightly blurry on the definition of personal space and personal boundaries. I was editing this particular photo (to the right) and suddenly she's there... right beside me...

"Beautiful," she says.

I'll give her points for charm... and manners.

Then she looks again at both the photo... and then at me... a little bit more studious this time... She's really concentrating, analyzing my features and appearance compared to the photo... She stands there in a pondering state for a minute and then, "You look different in photo."

How so?

She stands by her conviction...

"Photo- you fatter."

Wow... tell me how you really feel....

She sure did.

"You fat in photo. Big face. Now- not big face. You small face. Photo - face very big."

Quick question... is this my my new best friend / potential life coach... or someone I need to punch in her face face? Torn between accepting a compliment and losing my shit completely...

I've decided to blame any weight gain (perceived or not) entirely on my iPhone.

Stupid camera.

Anyway... enough about me... and back to me!

We left the homestay and made our way all the way up Ba Be Lake and then along the Song Nang river in some kind of motorized river vessel. It was about a 3 hour journey.

Ning 'anchored' us at one point, barked our orders at us... "Get out now"... and we were told that we had ONE hour to explore the local village.

I don't know if I would necessarily call it a "village exploration". Don't get me wrong- there was a village, and we did see houses and farmland, but we only just passed by them briefly as we followed Ning along the river bank path.  Our stroll was systematic...  Ning occasionally pointing at things and rapidly alerting us to what they were.

"Dis corna fo cow." 

"See here rice a fo du viyage peepa."

If anyone got slightly ahead... or behind...

"You no go." 
"Slow walk you. No hurry."
"Go now. Hey, you come."

Most times when Ning would speak, I would look to Mia for translation. She was better at sorting out his fast paced slur of English than I was. During our village excursion, he told us a very long-winded story about Vietnamese people going to 'hopita.'

I didn't have the faintest idea what he was talking about, but I was nodding my head enthusiastically to show both my undivided attention and my enthrallment.  Hopita? I thought he was referring to a specific area, district, jurisdiction, province... nope... he meant 'hospital.'

No wonder I'm disorientated most of the time.

As our boat was making its way along the Song Nang, it brought us through the opening of a large limestone cave. Ning stopped the boat and we all disembarked again for the opportunity to climb up in to some of the larger passages and dark spaces...

Well... blow me over... because guess what was smack dab in the middle of the cave? Guess what natural modern resource I discovered deep in the heart of this isolated, dark cave?

An easy question... if you think about it... because imagine the pure disgust were you NOT to find this amidst a cave... in a National Park... in the middle of nowhere in remote Vietnam...

...a wee shop!

Some random villager had set herself up on the steps and was selling pop, water, beer, Oreos, crackers, pineapple, dragon fruit, BBQ meat, corn, fried fish... all there for the taking (for a small fee, of course!) 

No ice cream... but that was about the only snack convenience missing.

Hard to imagine how difficult it is for us to mange to stop at anywhere remotely similar to a fully stocked SHOP while suffering 900km of country roads... passing through 10-15 towns and villages... but... hmmmmm.

I just have to shut my mouth.

Finally we get to somewhere that sells (semi) normal product and we're in a creepy cave with no money.

Who brings money on a National Park lake, river and cave cruise?

I know that I have mentioned the insane and unethical driving methods on more than one occasion, so I probably don't need to empathize these perils again.

BUT... one more time... just for old time sake!

Just when the group of us were just starting to relax, doze off... getting through the nausea and managing to ignore the fear of the winding roads, fast and reckless driving, blind corners...

BANG! ... BANG!...

It was terrifying. The driver slammed on his breaks, but it was too late.

A large German shepherd had darted in to the road and there was no time for our driver to slow down. The dog got snapped up under our two left tires and was spit out for dead on the side of the road. I think we all wished we hadn't looked back, but each one of us did.

It broke my heart.

I don't know if I was mourning the dark and sudden death of the dog... or grieving for the dog's family... or thinking about my Potzy... or maybe I was just cemented in this dismal,  emotional state of mind.  I don't know... perhaps all of the above... but I sat there in my seat, head in my hands and I sobbed.

Right at that moment, I just wanted this tour to be over.

When we finally arrived back at Hanoi, the buzz in the van was, "What do we tip?"
I thought a lovely big bowl of rice would be appropriate...

I gave Ning 200,000 dong... I probably would've given him more had I been from Toronto...

I had to change hotels because my beloved Classic Street hotel was almost fully booked and their asking price for a simple room was well out of my budget. So I ended up at the Hanoi Crystal Hotel. There were no crystals to be found and I would actually refer to it as more of a 'motel'...

I'm always complaining.

Can't stop. Won't stop.

My hotel was 'interesting.'
The carpet on the tight, claustrophobic hallways of each floor were lined with.... fake grass... ?

You know those artificial lawns that were previously reserved for 1980's outdoor patios, cheap wedding decoration and mini golf courses?  They're making a comeback. Perhaps it's a cheaper and more sustainable option or maybe they wanted to give the illusion of the 'great outdoors.'

It wasn't necessarily my favourite look... by no one consulted me.

I'm just jilted, knowing what I expect from a $35 hotel...

Also- my room had one window, which faced the indoor stairway shaft. No really fitting for a photo of the city from my penthouse... but there was air conditioning and a working toilet, so I should shut up.

I wandered through the weekend night market and managed to spend every dong I had on me, which isn't difficult if you're me and you really need stuff that you don't actually need... and don't have room for either.

Ding Dong! Merrily on high... I buy!

I won't be looking at that humorous little ditty so favourably when MasterCard comes a callin'!

I hit up 'The Chop' again, but this time there wasn't anyone encouraging me to inhale nitrous oxide at a local nightclub.
Shame about my luck. So mostly I just ate everything on the menu that didn't have rice.

Seriously.... everything.

If I'm going to look fat-face in photos, dammit, I'm going to look fat-face in person too.

True Story.
FML

Have Good to See?

So Nigh got a bit regimented with us on the tour... as I have found with a few tour guides over the past few weeks.  Orderly.

His tenacious demands and persistent requests became almost orderly - prompt requirements of the itinerary. If we did not respond vocally or with a nod of the head immediately, his demands would echo, implying our imposition.

"Peas cum a dow fo brekas now." 

"Peas cum a dow fo brekas now." 

"Peas cum a dow fo brekas now."

The Vietnamese have a way of articulating their English by either adding unnecessary vowels at the end of words or omitting final consonants all together. Either way, they slur the word together to develop something so radically different from the original that it usually leaves everyone quite baffled.

"Peas cum a dow fo brekas now." ... translates to "please come down for breakfast now." 

We left the homestay around 8AM, after a breakfast of bananas, thin doughy pancakes and some kind of liquid chemically-inducted butter-tasting honey-type syrup. Jorge has a gluten allergy, so he got rice.

Imagine that?

The family we left was wonderful and very accommodating, though quite clearly poor in everything but family, food and love. Their little boy and I hit it off famously. He loved smashing his bike in to my foot and I, in turn, loved pushing his bike away... with my foot.

After each experience on the road, Ning was quick to ensure that we were all made happy and;

"Have good to see?"

We would all nod in unison. Sometimes it appeared that he wasn't entirely convinced that we all 'have good to see' so he would repeat himself until we eased his conscience with our enthusiasm.

The landscape here is very similar to that of Ha Long Bay / Bai Tu Long Bay... except on land, as opposed to in the ocean. If this area were to flood... it would be like an extension of what we recently explored on the coast.

But here we were in Northeastern Vietnam - immersed in a vast countryside collection of towering mountain blobs, scattered randomly, for as far as the eye could see. Each one, tangled with lush jungle vegetation.  I know I put in a photo similar to the one below yesterday, but I had to include another one, to showcase this impressive & chaotic landscape once again.  It's difficult to capture the overgrown maze of jungle in a iPhone photo, let alone how the foliage literally cloaks the hills in growth.  The photo below is the best I could do... zooming in... adjusting the brightness...  cropping... adding definition...

And I'll say it again, I'm no photographer...

From the moment I mentioned venturing to Vietnam, I knew that I wanted to see the Ban Gioc Waterfalls.  It just looked too beautiful for me to pass up, so I set about trying to find a tour that would deliver.

Our first stop of the morning was at some impressive caves - Nguom Ngao, apparently a national relic and very popular tourist stop. Thick dumb me thought, we were actually at the waterfalls. You can imagine the thrill of it all... stepping out of the bus, camera in hand... big smile on my face... only to discover that we had a few more kilometres to drive.  Shows how much attention I was paying... or how much Vietnamese I speak. Don't get me wrong... I was impressed by the caves... just not AS impressed as I knew I would be by the waterfalls.

Lucky for our group, there weren't a lot of tourists out and about today, so we pretty much had our run of the joint. Maybe it was the time of there day? Time of the year?...

We wandered through the caves - might I add, with proper shoes on today - admiring the various shapes of the stalactites. The cave's name means "Tiger's Cave" and a long time ago, it is rumoured that many fierce tigers lived here. I think that they have moved out though because I didn't see any today.  I had a pretty good look as well. Once we'd inspected and investigated every inch of the Tiger Caves and found nary a tiger, off we went to the waterfalls...

"Have good to see?"

Quite disappointed at the lack of tigers. I told Ning that I'd probably just send a complaint letter to head office, but I'm not sure be understood.

Next stop... Ban Gioc.

Becoming a common pose...!

Believe you me... as soon as I laid eyes on them, first impressions did not disappoint. I knew from the very beginning that this was going to be one of my guaranteed Vietnam happy places. Looking back at the amount of times I did a Google search on Ban Gioc... throwing a full screen of waterfall images at friends and family (and strangers, I might add), bragging about my upcoming journey and how soon I would be standing right there... right there in front of this aquatic cascading masterpiece.

There is only one word that can aptly describe the wonder of Ban Gioc.

Majestic. 

They are truly majestic.

No other word holds candle to possibly remotely close to epitomizing their power, their beauty and their allure.  An unparalleled natural sight. Awe inspiring, really.

The waterfalls straddle the international border of Vietnam and China.  We could see China, we could feel China and we could almost touch China... but that was forbidden. The water all belongs to China, but as they share the boundary, Vietnam is allowed visitation by way of the shoreline and the right to run little bamboo rafts taking sightseers closer to the falls for a fabulous view.

Apparently mass tourism has yet to arrive - on both sides - Vietnam and China. When we arrived, there wasn't more than a mere trickling of visitors. There was always an opportunity to get an incredible photo without the disruption and disturbance of crowds.

Ok- Travel rant time...

Our tour van (guide) stops in the most random places and this MUST be recognized and discussed. Now, I'm not claiming to be a tour guide... nor do I feel the need to suddenly pursue the profession, but should I ever find myself in the role, I would really strive to cater to the needs and wants of those in my van.

In saying this, I fully understand that "when in Rome..." 

BUT... in my defence, all of the locations (be it a quick bathroom break or afternoon lunch) that we stopped at had the following in common;

• Isolated.
• Random.
• Dirty.
• Unhygienic bathrooms.
• No toilet paper (not even the option to purchase TP.)
• Zero food convenience (minimal variety of beverages and snacks, if any at all.)
• Zero modern commodities. 

At one stop, I literally ran down the road like a prisoner escaping my captor! I spotted a STORE... or at least something that slightly resembled a store... and I just felt the sudden urge to run towards it, arms out, grin from ear to ear... like I was being reunited with a long lost friend. Mostly I just wanted to buy something that wasn't a massive bean jar, bulk vegetables, packaged rice or black sesame balls.  Ning wasn't impressed with my attempted escape... but... I found ice cream, so I won the battle.

"Have good to see?"

No... the entire van needs ice cream.

At one point, he came to the conclusion that I didn't like Vietnamese food.  I tried to explain to him that I like Vietnamese food just fine (little white lie as pertaining to this particular tour) BUT... sometimes one needs a little variety in their culinary experience... or maybe just an afternoon snack.

The extravagance of the meals was touching... but slightly redundant.

And back to the absence of providing an occasional accessibility to some much needed commodities... you needn't look much further than my requested stop to purchase body lotion yesterday.   These random stops our guide was making were anything but accidental. I hazard to guess that there was definitely some kind of commission deal worked out.. but revenue would have skyrocketed had we all been presented with something we all wanted or needed!

Body lotion, toilet paper, Diet Coke, Pringles, a hat, Tylonel, tampons, ice cream... 

But then again... I'm no tour guide.

We moved on from my beautiful waterfalls to Ba Be Lake...a National Park of Vietnam and they are currently attempting to make it a UNESCO site, but so far, have been unsuccessful.

If there is anything I can take away from this particular lake trip... anything at all that ingrains in to my psyche... never, never, ever, never use anything plastic, never, ever again.

Never.

To be nothing short of explicit... the lake was literally littered with litter.  The fishermen used plastic bottles and rope as buoys to mark their nets and these were all over the water.

An abnormal abundance of plastic bags floated on their own... some full of water, some full of garbage... There were chip bags, beer cans, candy wrappers, styrofoam containers...  Heartbreaking. The shorelines were trash. Trees along the bank had their branches blanketed with bits of colourful plastic bags... almost as if they had been deliberately decorated. Rubbish everywhere. The most noticeable in large quantities though, were plastic bottles.

The tiny cove where our homestay was located was fairly clean compared to the rest of the area, perhaps due to it being a private area... perhaps not so great for fishing... or maybe already over fished?

Now... this was a homestay that I could get used it.  It was very reminiscent of the Swiss Family Robinson, and all of our 'private' bedrooms were on the top floor, looking out over the bay. Hammocks, comfy couches, colourful lanterns, hisorical photographs, traditional art... all decorated the place. It was very comfortable and unique.

I was in my own bedroom with 2 queen size beds, both with the draping bug nets again,..

Dinner.... I'm not even going to mention dinner. Guess.

Rice and I are breaking up... forever.
In fact, I may never touch another spring roll again either.

And I refuse to mention lunch the following day either. I'm not even going to bring up having to beg Ning to stop at a normal shop so I could purchase something to snack on and tie me over until my next rice buffet.

He did.

I got was a cup of stale, caramelized popcorn and some kind of freezer-burnt orange flavoured sorbet.

Nothing else was remotely edible.
FML.

"Have good to see?"

No... beat it. 

On the Road with Mr. Linh

I left off last night and went looking for nachos... and I found them.

Someone like me, with an addiction like nachos... can NOT be held back. When I arrived at "The Chop," I didn’t even really have to look at the menu… I knew exactly what I was ordering.

"... and NO cilantro, please..."

The place was filled with North Americans... and I assume that each & every single one of them was there for a much needed respite from rice. That was certainly why I was there. I love nachos. It said on the menu that the nachos were served with BBQ beans... and most often, I am not an avid fan of BBQ sauce, but decided to keep my mouth shut and suck it up.  Suck it up for the sake of the nacho.

At least it wasn't rice...

In a country where I based my entire reason for traveling here around being overly obsessed the North Americanized satay sauce, I had NOT encountered much of the stuff at all.

I should have called this blog, "Rice is Not Always Nice" or "Springs Rolls vs. My Rolls."

In regards to the the nachos... they were good. They were different.  No cheese (the menu did say cheese, but I didn't really find any.) No vegetables (except jalapeños - and only about 4 little pieces, at that.)

Just chips, smothered with a boat load of beans.
Of course... I ordered more jalapeños.

While I was sitting there, this American sitting at the table next to me sparked up a conversation.  He seemed nice, in his 30's... definitely pro-American and stereotypically over confident and slightly overbearing. From what I could gather, he had a strong intent to show how well traveled he was, how cool he was and how he's not afraid to take risks when it comes to an all night party. 

When he inquired as to where I was from, this is the conversation that followed;

Him: "Where are you from?" 

Me: "Just outside Vancouver." 

Him: "Do you mean Portland, but you're too embarrassed to say?" 

Me: "Huh?"  (I didn't get it...)

Him: "Portland, Oregon." 

Me: "No... I'm Canadian. Vancouver, BC."  ... strange conversation, but true...

I have heard rumour about certain Vietnamese nightclubs selling balloons filled with some sort of dentist office type laughing gas and he was giving me the low down on where to get it, best prices, amounts to inhale... how it makes you feel, the estimated time of each high... and I quote, "As far as drugs go, this shit is actually really pretty good for your body."

I think that I will just decide to take his word for it...

I did a bit of reading up on line;

Taking part in the giant canisters of medical-grade nitrous oxide may seem like an exciting diversion, but the reality is far more risky. We spoke to bar owners who chose to keep their anonymity. They have stated that they've seen regular users act violently and experience noticeable personality shifts. 

Anecdotally, they told us that they've seen even casual users have sometimes experienced anxiety, depression and hypertension. 

Such behaviour is consistent with the psychological damage caused by N2O abuse. Irrational and aggressive behaviour are just some of the possible symptoms that can result from a disruption to methylation effectiveness.

While he was filling me full of stories of his extensive world travel, drug abuse and frequent & recent blackouts in foreign cities... another solo traveller walked in and sat at a table near us.  I could tell she was intently listening in on the conversation, and trying not to laugh at the same time. His one big tip to the both of us, if we were interested in hitting the town to get 'super messed up,' was to leave our accommodation carrying only cash and a hotel/hostel business card. Money for drinks, drugs and a taxi back to where you were staying. It was that simple. No chance in losing all your important things.

Except maybe a kidney... or your liver...

Turns out that the other solo traveller was Emily- a consulate for the American Embassy, living in Ho Chi Minh City.  She tried, in a casual and relaxed manner, to stress the dangers of purchasing and consuming drugs in Vietnam, due to the strict rules and the amount of foreigners that are currently doing time in local jails. The Embassy can't do anything about it until the Vietnam government feels that the prisoner has served their time for crime committed.

At one point when Emily was speaking, I piped in with my two cents worth and he looked at her, rolled his eyes and said, "You should probably know... she's Canadian." 

What does that meant???

I may never know... but with that remark, he assured us that he's always really careful in regards to drinking & drugs, everything is super cool in his world... and off he went to get a tattoo.  

Emily and I hit it off fabulously.  Her and her husband have just moved to HCMC.  She had to do 6 months of Vietnamese language training prior to coming over and she's here for a minimum of 2 years. We finished our drinks, then ended up wandering the streets, popping in and out of different shops, losing direction with every turn and trying desperately to figure out our way back to where we'd been earlier and seen a deal on something silk...

Once again, I was suckered in to buying more things that I don't really need, nor want. The vendors are sneaky. As soon as you express any sort of interest in absolutely anything- they will literally follow you down the street, bringing the price down so low that it makes it near impossible for you not to turn around and buy it. If customs tears my bag apart, they are going to think I'm apt to open up my own shop!

Monster Mountain

Emily and I exchanged numbers and I'm going to meet up with her when I'm back in HCMC. She offered for me to stay at their house on the night before I fly out, but I declined due to the fact that my flight goes at 5AM... so I should probably be there at 2AM... or earlier.  Don't want to be an inconvenience or hinderance to anyone! Think that might be one of those nights that I just stay at the airport.

My favourite hotel... :-(

Mr. Linhs’ adventure tours picked me up at the hotel the following morning around 8am.  

Now before I go any further, I just have to say... "WHO... in their right mind... eats an entire bowl of BBQ beans and jalapenos the night before they embark on a 3 day tour (with strangers) in a country that is predominantly known for NOT providing toilet paper in their public washrooms?"

Me.

Won't be needing laxatives today.

I already claimed the elevator as my own on the way to breakfast.
I was positive that I'd make a load of friends on the tour bus.  Loads.

I'm a fool.

Me and the Homestay Lady

I was grateful that there were others on the tour... albeit couples.  Nothing screams I'm Single more than traveling with a bunch of couples. It's tough... and occasionally insightful, to have that perceived 'you're lonely and we know it' finger pointed at you.  The wolf is always at the door...

I'm officially on a honeymoon with myself and I'm loving it.

The one fabulous thing about traveling with couples is that as soon as the trip is over, you're more than delighted to be alone again.

People often wonder why I travel alone and I often wonder why more people don't. I am the master of my journey, controlling my entire vacation from the luxury of My. Own. Head.  Sure I can jump on to the tours and travels of others along the way, but ultimately, I make all the decisions. If I want to visit museums every single day- no one argues with me. If I want to lie in bed all day - no one nags me. If I want to drink myself in to oblivion - no one judges.

Well... I do... a bit... but I usually get over it.

I read an article recently that spoke about the judgmental eye being cast on women traveling alone.  No one bats an eyelid if a solo woman goes to another town to go shopping... ?
I normally get one of two different responses when I mention that I'm traveling alone.

1. You're so brave.

No... I'm not at all.

It's just another country with exactly the same resources as we have back home. Restaurants, pubs, info centres, mini marts, pharmacies, grocery stores.... fruits, veggies, beer, ice cream... Anywhere you go, you get familiar with your surroundings REAL quick. It's a survival mechanism built in to all of us. Perhaps the rules of the road differ ever soooo slightly... but other than that... same, same, but different.

2. Aren't you scared?

No.

I take that back. 

Yes... of all the drivers both on & off the road... and of having to eat rice at every meal.

Here are the rules;

• Keep your passport safe.
• Keep your wallet & money safe.
• Familiarize yourself with your surroundings.
• Watch were you're going at all times.
• Make eye contact.
• Follow your intuition always.

Some people will give you the world - just like home.
Other will try to take everything you have - cheat you - just like home.

My main fear of traveling alone is that I'm going to get stuck alone on one of the tours I book. They never tell you how many people have booked, or who they are, or where they're from.  I really wish they would. Sometimes, not all the time, I long for the option of a singles tours. I think it might be beneficial to try and categorize different trips - families, couples, singles, age groups... even languages sometimes.

When you're alone on a tour - you have to be attentive and on alert.  It's just you. Usually the guide feels an obligation to educate/entertain you the ENTIRE time and it's your obligation to stay interested and happy about it. Awkward.

I'm one of those people that needs regular 'tour guide breaks'... not to be rude or condescending... but I need more social interaction with other travellers, the opportunity to be able to stare out the window and I want to be able to pass out if I'm tired... or just play on my phone in silence.

There were 2 other couples on our tour - an older couple from Portugal (forget their names) and a couple from Australia / Columbia - Mia & Jorge. Our tour guide was Ning.  No strange name like Unicorn or Chicken or Hero or Mr. Tip... just plain old, boring Ning.

I thought he would for sure be Mr. Linh, but foiled again.

At first he REALLY liked me because I was Canadian and, from what I understood, his English teacher from years ago was Canadian- so I was automatically in the cool category.  Then he found out that I'm not from anywhere remotely near Toronto... and now I'm pretty much dead to him.

I'm fairly certain that Ning thinks I’m a high maintenance nightmare.

• Ning... Air conditioning on, please.
• Ning... Turn air conditioning up, please.
• Ning... Can you please turn down the air conditioning?
• Ning... Do you mind turning the air conditioning off, please?
• Ning... Can you stop at a shop for lotion? No... not sunscreen lotion... body lotion...

I just need what I need...

Pee with a friend...

We drove forever.  If you think driving long distances is treacherous, imagine the fun to be had from the cramped & narrow un-comfort of the middle seat of a van.

Now, I can't attest for what everyone else likes and does not like, but I'm just not a big fan of showering and then getting urine on my feet. 

Not a fan.

I got my first taste of the 'squat.'
Maybe 'taste' is the wrong word, but I find it near impossible to squat, hold up clothing off the dirty floor, hold balance, aim AND try not to get back spray on myself... 

I ended up peeing all over my right foot.

Some people would argue that I shouldn't have worn my flip flops in there to pee... but in my defence I didn't know that the toilet was like that, I often wear flip flops when I pee and thank GOD I was wearing plastic flip flops... or I'd have a serious issue with a real buffet of human waste on my only pair of shoes. Yuck.

Then I had to scrounge just a little bit more of the damp, conglomerated toilet paper they graciously provide, and attempt to clean myself up, which only resulted in managing to cover myself in little wet pee balls. Finally I just took a ladle of their fresh water they had outside the room and doused my foot in it.

My fat, pee pee foot. 

Some head?
Piece of ass?

After surviving the trauma of my own urine... I decided to grab something snack-ish to keep in the van in case I got peckish during the tour.  Everything displayed looked foreign and there was really nothing in the shop that even remotely screamed out "you recognize me"...

Nothing.

So I settled on some sesame seed candies that looked like they might be tasty.  They weren't. Don't get me wrong... they probably were tasty... 3 years ago when they were fresh....

Now, not so much. 

I fear that they'd been sitting there for some time.  In order to get in to them, you had to tear thought this decayed congealed plastic... you really had to want the candy.  I probably consumed more plastic attempting to eat these little candies than normally would be approved by Health Canada.

We hadn't been on the road more than 2 minutes after this little stop, when something started beeping.

Beep Beep Beep Beep Beep Beep Beep Beep Beep Beep

It was constant, infuriating, menacing, annoying and continual... and it didn't stop. Not only did it not stop, but neither the driver, nor our guide seemed the slightest bit bothered by it.

Beep Beep Beep Beep Beep Beep Beep Beep Beep Beep

Finally, high maintenance nightmare Joanna from not-Toronto, had to speak up...

• Is that someones watch?
• Maybe an alarm going off?
• Turn signal?
• Phone alert?
• Someones alarm?

No one could give me the answer I was looking for... just "GPS" and then the conversation was over and on to other things. Finally I had to put my headphones on to attempt to drown out the irritation... but even that hardly worked.

This is pretty much our meal for every meal.  It
doesn't vary much at all. Beans, beef, pork,
chicken, spring rolls, morning glory, rice,
steamed cucumbers and some kind of potato soup.

After 40 minutes, I asked again... ever so slightly more aggravated this time.
This time, they explained to me that the GPS tracks the drivers every move and knows when he should stop for a 15 minute break. Considering that we had just stopped, this seemed odd to all of us. Very odd.  BUT... we'd only been stopped for 10 minutes, so the GPS didn't record it.

The beeping stopped when we stopped for lunch. Thank God... I was envisioning having to hire a taxi for me to follow the tour van if it continued...

Every stop from then on, our entire group made sure that we meandered around for at LEAST 15 minutes before getting back in the van. We could not endure the beeping again.

Lunch was the usual large buffet of plated foods that never stopped arriving at the table.

Pork, more pork, fish, chicken, another pork dish, rice, another bowl of rice, steamed cucumbers, morning glory, beef, a type of soup, spring rolls, watermelons...

There is no such thing as a light lunch... how I would have longed for a small cheese platter and some crackers.  Nope.

After lunch, we crossed the street and visited a Mother Goddess Worshiping Temple. I believe that we were in an area called Dong Dang? Almost right at the China border.

This temple was the brightest, most multicoloured & vivid temple I've ever seen - and there were actual REAL people inside going through the serious, devout ritual of worship! They all were surrounding one particular pious person, who seemed to be in a trance state... dancing and singing...

To the foreign eye, it all seemed overly glamorized, maybe even commercialized, as if they had deliberately planned this rite in preparation for our arrival. But it was undeniably legitimate!  There were offerings of oranges, bananas, potato chips, pop, beer... and other assorted and unusual sacrifices surrounding the various rooms of worship.  I guess that Worship of the Mother Goddess is the oldest religion in Vietnam, pre-dating even the Chinese occupation.

Leaving the Temple, we hit the road... and I decided that it would probably be in my best interest if I were to divert my eyes to absolutely anywhere in the entire world rather than directly AT the road while we were driving.  It was narrow, winding, lawless, disorganized, rugged, uneven... ultimately everything you're searching for in a road trip. 

In addition to all of that, take in to consideration all of the mopeds, semis, vans, cars, bicycles, pedestrians, cows, water buffalo's and stray dogs.  Not to cause undue alarm, but it's... chilling to the bone.  It's like a video game.  

Vietnam Highway- Are you up for the challenge?

I was even thinking reality TV at one point - everyone would die! On one steep, narrow, mountainous blind corner, our van pulled out to pass an enormous semi, and at that exact same moment, the semi tire exploded, flying up and smashed our side view mirror. BOOM! I thought we were being shot at.

By even just stepping in to or on to a motorized vehicle in this country, it's almost like a symbolic gesture of accepting death. "I'll take one for the team. I'll die."


We finally arrived at our homestay for the evening around 5pm. It was right in the middle of a very tiny, remote village... a very poor, farming village. We stayed with the family that (presumably) owned the home. A large home - built out of wood and stone and concrete and slate and bamboo... and, and, and...

Whatever they had, they used!

Now...  this was an experience...
I am definitely not knocking, nor mocking the experience, but I think I might have been better off doing something like this at the onset of my journey. By now, I have become completely inunated in the lap of luxury.

When I say that this is a farming village, I mean it.  Every inch of land is dedicated to feeding the villagers.  Corn for the cows and the water buffalo, chickens running around all over the place, rice fields, fish ponds, banana trees, grapefruit trees, pumpkins (though they looked like big zucchinis)...


The room that everyone stayed in was upstairs - in a big, open space... It was a large room, sanctioned off in to separate dwelling sectionals, divided using drapes, sheets and curtains as walls and doors.

Each ‘room’ had a very firm mattress on the floor.  Along with each mattress came one pillow, one mustard yellow duvet and a canopied mosquito net over the area.  Like Sleeping Beauty...

We all met below to eat with the family.

The usual.

Rice, pork, chicken, beef, morning glory, cucumbers, spring rolls, soup, watermelon...

Two large, authentic and identical meals in one day. I was sincere and polite with my gratitude.. but I couldn't take the lack of variety. Loss of appetite immediately.

As a child, I was extremely picky, but as an adult, I figured I'd outgrown this, due to the fact that I can eat almost anything, apart from mushrooms, cilantro,... broccoli, cauliflower, Brussels sprouts... spam...

But honestly- if I don't want it, I won't eat it. If it represents a certain taste or smell or provokes a bad memories or thought, or I'm just not in the mood, it's a no go... no matter what it is. If I'm tired of it, I'll starve.  Like rice right now. Could we maybe switch to rice noodles for one dish?

Would that be too much to ask?

Then, much to our delight, every member of the family... and their friends too... kept approaching our table at different, individual times, to do a shot of corn wine. Once again, NOT wine... like Grapa mixed with Bacardi 151... but worse. So trying to fend off their shot-seeking attention, pretend to shoot it back, hide the shot behind a main dish bowl and then attempt to empty it before another family member showed up to repeat the process...

Where's real wine when you need it?

I didn't sleep well.

• Maybe it was the hard mattress?
• Perhaps it was the constant, uninterrupted, heavy, synchronized snoring of at least 8 of the 15-20 people staying in the home?
• Could've been the rooster that started crowing at 12:24AM and didn't stop?
• It might have been the screaming baby?

I can't say for sure... but I tossed and turned all night.

I knew the funeral was the following day and it's all that was going through my mind. Tossing and turning in that hard little bed, in sequence with every good and bad memory that surfaced. I felt that maybe I need to try and find my own inner peace, while at the same time, giving myself my own closure...

So I decided to write some words down that could possibly be read out at the funeral. I wanted a little part of me to be present, no matter how far removed I was.

So that's what I did...