"You fly off to a strange land, eagerly abandoning all the comforts of home, and then expend vast quantities of time and money in a largely futile attempt to recapture the comforts that you wouldn't have lost if you hadn't left home in the first place" Bill Bryson
Day 152 and Sunday 2nd was spent killing time as we felt we'd done all that requires money in HCMC. We did however spend time taking a stroll towards the park and the Reunification Palace. Then around keeping west of the Palace we walked to a charming square with Notre Dame Cathedral to its centre. All very pristine and neat.
I'm not sure why, but I wanted to check seeing The Saigon River off my list. A list that I hadn't necessarily made before arriving in HCMC. To do that we carried on walking from Notre Dame Cathedral and past what looked an amazingly wealthy area. You know, merchant banks, shops like Gucci with seemingly little stock, fewer customers and a bored snob of a shop assistant. The one irony I saw was the Vietnamese Flag, the yellow star symbolising the 5 aspects of socialism (agrarian, industry...oh look it up) against the red background flying proudly to the side of a Louis Vuitton store. I immediately thought; what a long way this country has come in such a short time. Walls of a building site were covered with posters detailing the new developments to come to this city. Where's their austerity? Where's their recession?
The Saigon River isn't eye opening, at least not where we joined it. I hoped for a promenade similar to Sisowath Quay in Phnom Penh, but looking for comparisons is often dissappointing. There are a few restaurants, and pricey hotels, and maybe a few booze cruises docked. We headed back to our area. HCMC was coming to an end, and I think we got all we needed to from it.
On day 153, after breakfast we caught the bus for Dalat. The bus left at 10:30 and was scheduled to take 7 hours. The bus was a bright orange colour, looked tidy and comfy so we thought we'd be surrounded by other backpackers. We were the only westerners on the bus. Important announcements were told in Vietnamese and this was almost our undoing at the first stop. About noon we stopped at a petrol station, and food court. The driver announced something and everybody got off. We both used the loo and walked up and down questioning whether to get some food. Once in the shop we saw the bus reversing out. I shouted around the shop for Sarah, and we ran to the bus and jumped on, very close call. A few others stopped the reversing process and jumped on. A mile or two up the road, the conductor decided this was a good time to do a head count. Good system.
The journey went really fast considering it was 7 hours. I'm reading J D Salinger, Catcher in the Rye at the moment, and it isn't grabbing me. Famous more as the book Mark Chapman was reading when arrested for shooting John Lennon, Sarah told me it is excellent. I'm half way through now and don't see the excellence. Therefore, it wasn't the book that made the time seem shorter.
It was during the journey and once stopped at a cafe I had this little epiphany relating to Vietnam. That is Vietnam, doesn't really look like Vietnam at all. This stands to reason I suppose. We mostly know Vietnam from films, and on one count we are looking at an Asian country in the 60s. Secondly, almost every Vietnam film is filmed somewhere else. Platoon was filmed in the Philipines I believe, and many others were in Thailand. The palm tree forests, aren't as prolific as in Thailand or Malaysia. This stuck out more as we approached the Highlands, where our destination Dalat is. As we climbed the hills in the coach, the trees were mostly pine trees. The roads are big and well maintained. This comes out in our attitude to Vietnam. With all the meddling during the 60s and 70s. USA telling one half how to be democratic and capitalist. The USSR and China telling the other how to farm, fight and make stuff. You can easily fall in the trap of thinking this is a country like Israel and South Korea that needs constant spoon-feeding to simply function as a nation. Once here that impression desolves faster than a sugar cube in hot water. You see a country that looks very self-determined, mature and sure of its future. If Cambodia is beautiful but battered lady, slowly succeeding in retrieving her deserved dignity, then Vietnam is a cocky little bastard who you knows he's put all his eggs in the right basket.
We arrived in Dalat about 6pm to darkness and rain. A taxi took us the 4km into town for VND60,000 (£2 or $3). We singled out a hotel called Hotel Phuong Hanh, (80 - 82 D 3 Thang 2). I've named it as it turns out to be a bargain of a place, and I would like to give it a recommendation. We paid $10 for a room which is so spacious, two double beds, television and a fridge. The bedding is a soft duvet. There is no need for AC here as the weather in Dalat is considerably less Asian and very British. Comparisons are quickly drawn with The Cameron Highlands in Malaysia. However, these comparisons are very limited. Dalat isn't a hill station of any description. The Dalat area is the food basket of Vietnam however, as The Cameron Highlands are to Malaysia. Still apart from a respite from the heat, the places aren't the same.
The rain came down in torrents as we left the hotel to grab some food. We wanted food but being drenched and cold (haven't said that in a while) we urgently needed shelter. We found a place with a very limited menu. We were the only ones there, but we landed on our feet. This place was to spring rolls like, Bar Burrito in Manchester is to (uhh) Burritos. You build them yourselves from the menu. Picking the skin, the fillings and sides. The barbecued pork was somewhere between ham and the thick tasty bacon. I was feeling adventurous, I've now mastered chop sticks I think (even a rice dish in HCMC was 75% chop stick eaten before I resorted to a spoon), and I'm believing I'm really Asian. With my meal, also a bowl of rice noodles and pork, I also ordered some Corn Milk. I was asked to by the waitress and I wanted to try it if only not to dissappoint her. I took one sip with hesitation, casting my mind back to Koh Kong Village, Cambodia in 2002, when my sister and I were given thick shakes containing milk, oil and fish sauce, and watched as we drank. This time, different. I liked it. I'm not sure what the calorific or cholestrol value of this was, but it was warming and tasty. I'm not sure if it is a kiddies drink or not as it is even sweeter than sweetcorn, but I could imagine loving it as a child.
Some westerners, the first we'd seen since HCMC came into the cafe and sat down for a while, they looked at the menu in the same questioning way we did initially. They were too intimidated by it, they left without ordering. Their absolute loss, because the meal came in with 2 starters 3 main dishes, tea, corn milk and a sprite for £3. The spring rolls were closer in look to the fresh variety, not the deep fried ones serve in Iceland adverts. However, they were also soft, like Polish Peroggis (Sarah told me a few million times).
I've stuck about 95% to Vietnamese or Asian foods while in Nam. The exceptions have been a bowl of chilli and a panini for breakfast. Apart from that only noodles, rice, soups etc. You know what, I love the way I feel, as it feels like I'm getting all the goodness I need, and the North of England denied me for three years. Actually this is unfair, I've always been aware of Asian cooking, and I no one forced all those kebabs, chips and curries down my neck. That said, no where since Nam has healthy eating seemed so natural and desirable. I shouldn't use this post as an unfair attack on Northern Cuisine ('Cuisine' used recklessly... stop it), and simply to big up the genius of Vietnamese food. I like to think of sentences to sum up things, so my description of Vietnamese cooking is "the love-child of Thai and Japanese cooking".
Day 154, we only needed to post our post cards but made our way out via breakfast. We had a continental breakfast. I wanted Pho, but this place didn't offer it for breakfast. Vietnam being an ex-colony of France is great with bakeries (therefore counting it as a Vietnamese breakfast). The croissant was crumbly as were the large baguettes. The heavens opened again so we waited it out in the cafe, sipping tea and coffee until the sun returned. We found the post office with ease, then at a loss we walked to the lake in Dalat.
Dalat is a holiday retreat for Vietnamese it seems. It centres around a large lake and a golf course. On that lake we saw some peddle boats shaped like giant swans so with nothing else to do, we rented one for an hour. Sarah was frustrated with my stearing, in the same way she gets frustrated when we are doing something together on the PC and I'm on the keyboard, so she took over. We peddled quite a way, and had to sprint back to get back in time. On the way back I asked if she could park this thing, as her steering was not as reactive as I would have wanted (Sarah thought she was doing doing brilliantly, though considering the thing only steered right and left, with no middle ground, she did do exceptionally well - added by Sarah in the editing process). Her reply "they don't call me Sarah the Swan Parker for nothing". I've never heard a sentence like that in my life. She parked it perfectly. We got out and the heavens opened again. The sky grey, the dotting on the lake of the rain coming down we caught a taxi back. On the way I immediately thought of this quote by Bill Bryson at the heading of this post.
Tomorrow, we have a full day of touring. Starting at 8:30am and finishing in time for tea we will be doing the following (according to pamphlet to my left):
- Visit Flower and Vegetable Farms
- Walk along a mountain view
- Coffee Plantations (yes again, can never get enough)
- Visit the Elephant Waterfall
- A pagoda with (another fucking) Big Buddha
- Crickets farm
- Minority village
- Crazy House
I will of course let you know how it goes with usual cynicism and sarcasm, leaving you wondering why I bothered leaving home in the first place (you're jealous).
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