We flew over to Phu Quoc island for a few days relaxing on the beach. We later learnt it’s pronounced ‘Foo Kwo’ but that was too late to save us from the embarrassment of asking for tickets to ‘Poo Cock’ island in the Vietnam Airlines office. The weather in Vietnam had been decidedly shady to this point with monsoon downpours almost every other day, not exactly beach weather. As we touched down in Phu Quoc however the sun was blazing so we hired a motorbike to scout around the hotels. Two people, two rucksacks and two backpacks crammed onto a single moped was almost up to locals standard, though we’d need a few children and chickens on board to really make the grade. The next three days were spent watching films when it rained and riding motorbikes around the island looking for beaches when it was dry. After a boat ride back to mainland Vietnam we prepared to cross into Cambodia via the Mekong delta.
En-route to Cambodia we stopped off for a fantastic tour of Can Tho’s floating markets and backwaters of the Mekong. Starting at 5:30 AM our boatwoman kept us entertained and awake until we hit the mass of the floating markets down river. After picking up our Halloween pumpkin we took a lazy cruise through the deserted backwaters. The atmosphere was amazing as we winded through the narrow, shady waterways to the sound of crickets chirping. We stopped at a wooden monkey bridge and we both had a go at crossing it. After our guide watched me nearly destroy the bridge as I crossed she quickly urged Helen not to attempt it. I think we must be a bit heavier than the locals.
After a beweildering series of attempts to overcharge us we finally boarded a fast boat to Phnom Penh, Cambodia, excited to be moving onto a new country.
We arrived in Saigon bleary eyed at 5:30 AM after our last train journey for a while. A ride on a motorbike taxi to the hotel district soon woke us up however and we realised that Saigon (no one here calls it Ho Chi Minh City) had even crazier traffic than Hanoi. After a quick breakfast it became apparent Mark was as equally popular in Vietnam as China when the swooning waitress declared she wanted to marry someone just like him. After Mark’s head had reduced sufficiently in size to leave the restaurant we took a walk across the city the War Remnants museum. By the time we arrived we were drowned in sweat from the heat and humidity and to our horror it was only 9:30! The museum had some incredible photographs from war journalists from both sides and some truly awful depictions of Napalm and Agent Orange victims.
We spent the evening walking around streets lined with colonial architecture and tried a classic Vietnamese iced coffee. Brewed to a super-strength and sickly sweet, Mark has become addicted to them.
A tour out to Cu Chi was a fascinating insight into the Viet Cong’s network of tunnels in which they lived and fought a guerrilla war against the South Vietnamese and US armies on the doorstep of Saigon. Our guide was a Southern army veteran who told some amazing stories and demonstrated how the VC recycled American bombs, vehicles and rubbish to make weapons and traps to use against them. Though extremely heavy on pro-Communist propaganda it was nevertheless interesting to see an alternative to Hollywood’s portrayal of events. The rain continued to pour throughout our visit and the thunder combined with AK47 rounds from the nearby gun range created a chilling atmosphere as we waded through puddles between the sights. We finished the tour with the chance to be real life tunnel rats and crawl through a 100m passage ourselves. Dimly lit and descending along the way it could be very claustrophobic at times. The last 30m really set the adrenalin pumping as the tunnel became tighter and pitch black. We shuddered afterwards at how terrifying it must have been to raid these tunnels as an American soldier.
From Hanoi we took a hard sleeper train to Da Nang with a carriage full of locals and an equal number of cockroaches. We’d obviously been spoilt by the excellent Chinese trains but once the earplugs in we soon slept our way through the countryside. Arriving in Da Nang to a torrential downpour we made our way to Hoi An, a historic riverside town. It would have been better described however as ‘The Venice of Asia’ as the river had burst its banks and flooded several blocks cutting off many guesthouses and restaurants. After a few Tsunami flashbacks we checked into a nice multi-storey hotel, far, far from the waterfront. Unfortunately most the sights were out of bounds due to the flooding so we quickly headed to Nha Trang for some much needed beach time. We had hoped to take a day trip to surf Charlie’s point but found we were around month too early for suitable waves so contended ourselves with lazing by the pool and reading our extensive library of photocopied books.
We were sad to leave China behind as we crossed overland into Vietnam, but were really excited to experience a new country. The bus journey took us straight to the heart of hectic Hanoi with it’s millions of motorbikes and no apparent road rules. We had a night of culture at the water puppet theatre which was a very interesting show set to live traditional music, the only downside was that the seating was designed for the Vietnamese style audience so we sat for the duration in agony with our knees around our ears.
Vietnamese food is delicious our favorites being pho (beef noodle soup) and roll your own spring rolls. After 5 weeks however of nothing but sweet bread in China we were even more taken with Vietnamese baguettes; a legacy from their French colonial past.
A tour out to Halong Bay on a Junk sailing boat was a real highlight. We cruised past amazing Karst islands, explored caves, kayaked and swam in the ocean. The boat, food and company were all outstanding and we can now see why the parents are always off cruising the world.
