VIETNAM 2007 SUMMARY

By Linda Higgins

Encouraged by Mark and Eve’s enjoyment of travel to warm destinations with very different cultures, and Bill and Linda’s enjoyment of a 2005 “scouting trip” to Viet Nam, we chose this destination for our 2007 school break trip. Our goal was to balance taking in many views of Vietnam, time spent at destinations or sightseeing in transit to travel time, as well as mixing stimulation with some relaxation. Laura accepted the invitation to join the trip. All five of us contributed heavily to determining the final itinerary, with Bill doing the heavy lifting to make the concrete arrangements with our Vietnamese travel agent. May local travel and accommodation bookings cannot be made conveniently from abroad.

To jump to the end, we all professed to be very pleased with the trip. Certainly we learned a lot and appeared to have a good time. Mark and Eve are extremely impressive as travelers, even given the high expectations set by their history. Laura and Bill took digital photos, the best of which are already culled and will be posted for you. This over-long account is Linda’s view and is the product of the over-long flight home.

Friday, 16 February. Palo Alto to Ho Chi Minh City via Hong Kong

The four Higgins set off for SFO Friday morning, first day of the “ski week” break for Palo Alto Schools, each carrying the customary single bookpack. We met Laura there on her connection from San Diego and were able to sit together in Economy Plus. The extra legroom is much appreciated on the looooong flight – two meals and four feature films long. We were upgraded to Business Class for our connection from Hong Kong to HCMC, thus gaining access to Thai Airways Royal Orchid Lounge. The buffet, massage chairs, clean facilities, and internet access are a welcome break in a long journey. Business Class seats and service were a hit as well.

Our arrival in HCMC coincidentally coincided with Tet, the lunar New Year, which in 2007 fell at the very late end of the range in relation to the solar New Year. Tet is a major holiday involving a great deal of advance preparation. Not only is it important to be ready for the festivities – which last several days to a week following depending on region – but one’s life must be put in good order to ensure good luck in the coming year. This means settling financial and interpersonal affairs, paying proper homage to ancestors, thorough cleaning, and preparation for welcoming the actual event of New Year with appropriate rituals.

Our outside view included the decorations and public ceremonies. It seemed every residence and business has a potted dwarf kumquat tree in front. These can cost a week’s salary for a family, and so must be quite important for luck in the coming year. The fruit burden on all was quite amazing, and nary a kumquat was plucked, even though out on the urban street. Red banners declaring “Chuc Mung Nam Moi” (Happy New Year). Brightly colored confetti, bold dragons, gold and red lantern, and careful live floral arrangements and ground displays covered streets, parks, and buildings. The flowers are really spectacular. I don’t think I’ve ever seen chrysanthemums, roses, lilies, and orchids bearing as many blooms per plant or as densely backed in soil anywhere as we saw every 10 places. There is some Tet magic, or agricultural genius, at work here. Drum beats and music filled the air.

After arriving at the Majestic Hotel in the evening we took some time to ohhh and ahhh at the Presidential Suite before making for the street. Our suite had two bedrooms, two marble bathrooms (two glass shower enclosures, one whirlpool), four big beds with down comforters, a cavernous great room with desk, sitting area, dinning table, bar, and the fourth (Mark’s) bed all floored and detailed and furnished in rich woods and strewn with orchid and rose stem vases and full floral arrangements. There were even orchid blossoms strewn on the beds, across the towels and on the shower mat. The Majestic was opened in 1925, but has served many purposes in the intervening years before being restored. It is prototypic Grand Old Hotel, well done. 

Just around the corner from The Majestic a major thoroughfare with large center parkway, Ngyen Hue, leading up to City Hall, had been converted to a pedestrian mall for Tet partying. For ~4 blocks the median was a mass of flowers, rice paddy plots, balloons, and dense gardens. Food, trinket, and flower vendors mixed through the crowd. Most popular seemed to be the photographers, using film cameras, snapping group poses of couples and families at the various displays. This is clearly a family event with all ages participating. When we left in the wee hours of Sunday morning, the crowd had showed no sign of subsiding.

We started our day with a massive Asian/Western buffet on the rooftop of the Majestic, then checked our luggage and headed for a highlights-only walking tour of HCMC. We took a loop including Nguyen Hue by light, City Hall, the famous main post office with French colonial maps on the arched ceiling and Ho Chi Minh’s (“Uncle Ho”) smiling visage presiding on thewall, Notre Dame cathedral, and the Central market. We were fortunate to see landmarks and people decked in Tet finest, but unfortunate to find everything closed. It was hard for Bill and Linda to imagine the main market could close, having seen it teeming on the prior trip,. We bartered for post cards at a street side display, and post-transaction the proprietress gives Eve an embroidered card of a tall thin woman in the traditional long paneled silk tunics over pajama pants, ao dai, gazing at two women in conical hats bent as if in a paddy.

Saigon district in central HCMC looks like an aging grand old dame. Architecture is clearly French colonial with heavy Asian influence. Brightly colored walls are most often faded and buildings raggedy without being quite dilapidated. The energy spent on potted greenery, and flowers in particular, to decorate balconies, entries, arbors – just about any nook and cranny -- is striking.

Reunification Palace, however, was open for tour. Tanks, planes, and helicopters involved in the seminal events of April 1975 were on display, and along with photo displays brought the history home with high impact. Next was the much-anticipated Vietnamese Style Massage School for the Blind. It was -- can you believe it? -- closed. This was a major disappointment. We made up for it later. Even commercially shut for holiday HCMC is bustling with helter-skelter motorcycle traffic and a strong commercial free market spirit.

It took a stop for iced milk coffee at a café to cool off in the heat of the day. Then we hopped the ferry across the Saigon River with about 10 other pedestrians, a couple of small trucks, and a few hundred or so motorcycles. The bank opposite Saigon district is a poorer residential section, probably housing workers from Saigon and other high-density commercial areas adjacent. Since the transportation de rigueur was obviously motorcycle, we bargained to hire 3 and rode off for a 30-minute tour of the area. Eve and Bill, Mark and Linda, and Laura each clung on behind a driver headed for who knows where in the neighborhood, making a couple of stops for us to look at who knows what. When we thought we were headed back the drivers instead turned out among can fields parallel and up river. We one by one became convinced that we were going to nowheresville to be dropped and extorted for money. This may have been reasonable and prudent, given what we’d read and the other places we’d traveled, and that our gesticulating and pointing at watches and in the direction of the ferry were greeted with smiles but no change in direction. However, our fears were unfounded. We zoomed back along the river to complete a big circle in time (sort of). The drivers apparently just wanted to be sure we got our money’s worth and aren’t as time conscious as Americans with a plane to catch can be.

We caught a 5:00 flight for Hanoi, a ~2 hour flight, and ~1 hour minivan cab ride to the Zephyr hotel on the edge of the old quarter. Hanoi is notably cooler than HCMC, with highs in the low 80’s rather than 90’s.

The Zephyr housed mainly European upper middle-aged tourists. We had clean spacious neighboring rooms and enjoyed another buffet breakfast with a short order omelet and crepe cook, tropical fruits, French derived pastries, and the breakfast staples of Asia: soup, rice gruel, and salad. The location was terrific, on the SW corner of the Hoan Kiem Lake. A park encircles the lake, which was in its Tet finest and enjoyed by families and couples also in their Tet finest. 

We strolled the 36 streets (now >50) originally devoted each to a single trade and still dominated in this way: the shoe street, the hardware street, the silk street…… French influence on an Asian substrate is manifest, again, and streets are wider than in many European old quarter. Some businesses were open, but we had to imagine what it would look, sound and smell like on a more normal day. Even the central market was closed. Hanoi is reputed to be slower paced and more gracious than HCMC, but this was not evident in our limited sample.

The Huc Bridge leads to the Ngoc Son Temple on a small island in the center of Hoan Kiem Lake. The Temple was buzzing with activity: performances and rituals put on by groups of little girls or older women in traditional costume, calligraphers producing scrolls, priests and devotees lighting incense and praying to ancestors. Legend has it the gods gave a King occupying the island a magic sword to drive the Chinese out of the region. Following victory, a giant golden turtle came to reclaim the sword. Descendents of this turtle are said to still occupy the lake. Indeed, photos have been snapped (Loc Ness style) and a massive dead turtle turned up in the lake and is now on display.

We cooled ourselves with some of the wonderful, ubiquitous Vietnamese ice cream, which comes in many delightful rich versions of familiar or tropical flavors (raspberry, tamarind, mango, vanilla, green tea, rum raisin, new rice (you read right)). We attempted to get a massage and walked to one of the best spots after being assured it was open (not!) and to get tickets to the famous Water Puppet performance (sold out for the next days). Brightly colored Water Puppets are operated in a water stage to enact traditional stories. A stop in the Zephyr coffee shop for some amazingly rich tarts and tortes alongside thick strong iced coffee (oops! We meant mild coffee, the kind with sweetened condensed milk 1:1 with the brew) was a great treat, and cost us for all of us about the same as a cup of Starbucks or two in the US. Bill, Linda, and Mark took another spin through old quarter and made some successful purchases of souvenirs, gifts, and post cards. Laura and Eve sat by the lake and were immediately befriended by a Vietnamese student wanting to practice his English in preparation for a trip to visit friends and family in the US. He had some interesting and humorous questions revealing good English and excellent grasp of US pop culture. It wouldn’t be at all surprising if he showed up at our house someday soon. Dinner was slooooooooow due to lack of staffing during Tet.

We rose early to arrive at Ho Chi Minh’s Mausoleum when it opened. In the spirit of trying all forms of transportation we bartered for cyclos. These cycles sport two wheels in back and a seat in front, wide enough for one in southern Vietnam and for two in northern, over the third wheel. They are most often driven by older men. They can get up a reasonable head of steam on the flat streets and avoid stopping at nearly all costs for obvious reasons -- and occasionally nearly disastrous results. In Vietnam stoplights are rare and the red ones optional. 

Major intersections may or may not be signaled. Round abouts are very common, particularly since cities tend not to adhere to grids so multi-spoked intersections abound. Major roads are flush with motorcycles and a healthy proportion of bicycles on the fringe, and just the occasional 4 wheeled vehicle. The whole flow goes along at a frenetic pace, merging and diverting like schools of fish. Crossing the street requires finding a slight break and delving into traffic looking straight ahead and employing a slow steady gait so that traffic can divert around both sides. Steady is essential. 

We arrived at the front of Ho Chi Minh Mausoleum before opening, where one can view the block and plain column edifice across expansive lawn. Sentries blow whistles when the green is trod upon and wave visitors in a several block arc to the side for queues for tickets, search, checking of cameras, and finally entry. Busses of Chinese visitors altered the character of normally polite Vietnamese lines. After opening the line moves quickly across the front of the grounds, into the cold mausoleum, and around three sides of the glass enclosure holding the preserved remains of Ho Chi Minh. The site is closed for 2 months each year while the remains are flown to Moscow, where the preservation was performed by secret process, for “touch up.”

About 20% of businesses had opened by Tuesday, though still not the central market (!). We attracted plenty of attention walking around with many “hello!”’s from children who giggled at our replies. Thought not typical, there were definitely some hostile stares and scowls from adults here. That wasn’t seen at all in the south. It’s nearly impossible to walk on sidewalks in the cities, even just following Tet, due to motorcycles parked across the way, spread out street vendor wares, and numerous street side cafes and restaurants signified by putting down a mobile cooking or serving unit and a set of small plastic stools for patrons. Permanent business sites double as residences, with the two often commingled. Both commercial and devoted residential buildings are narrow, deep, and tall. Taxes in the city were figured on a frontage basis, resulting in “tube houses.”

Our second visit to Hoa Binh for massage is more successful. Private rooms have shower and sauna for before and after massage; Eve and Linda get a double room. This was worth waiting for. In the evening we take Vietnam Air to Hue and check in to the Saigon Morin hotel. Laura volunteers to take the 3 bed room with both kids and finds living with a teen is a breeze (so what is everyone complaining about?). Again, we have beautiful accommodations in a building erected in in the French colonial period (1901) with a rich history through turbulent times. It was also greatly expanded and is graceful and lovely. Marble, rich wood, and fresh flowers surround us. The breeze is soft and temperature ideal. Live traditional music is playing in the large central courtyard, laid out like a tropical garden. Our rooms are ~ $100, or 1,600,000 Dong. Traveling in Vietnam was are billionaires and feel like it. Spoiled is good (for a treat, anyway).

We rise early to yet another royal buffet breakfast, this one in the tropical courtyard. The setting is perfect. Our must for Hue is a boat trip on the Perfume River, which runs just in front of our hotel. Like any good or service, one just goes out and barters for the tour. Bill loves to barter, and is in his element with over exaggerated gesticulation and artificial amazement at the “outrageous” prices. We designate him in most situations, because he enjoys it as much as anything. Like any business, the boat doubles as a residence. The five of us push off in one of many identical covered boats with dragon prows and cloaked in primary colored designs. We head north just a tad first to circle a river boat community based near the market. Residents of these floating houses fish, tend fish farms, ferry goods to market, and in some cases moor to tiny islands in the Perfume River sporting shrines and small storehouses. Our captain (dad) heads south. As we motor slowly along the topical banks, our purser (mom) lays out various dry goods and turn the boat into a floating store with a hard sell. 

We stop at Thien Mu Pagoda, which has a prime location presiding over the river. As we pass, a dog stops at a shrine of a dog. Inside the main shrine, elderly women inside light incense, then shake a cylinder holding sticks with fortunes on them, draw one, and learn their fate for the new year. Next stop is Hon Chen temple. The shrines here aren’t restored with the care or to the glory of those in Japan or Thailand. As is typical in Asia, sites destroyed by natural and human disasters may be built and rebuilt without much care for restoration to earlier plan. Fidelity to the original just isn’t important, as it is in Europe or the US. Last stop is Minh Mang Tomb, the largest site. At Hon Chen several sizable pagodas are situated sequentially with wide platforms approaching each. A tablet telling of the emperor’s achievements sits in one, flanked by huge bells. A second is a temple with mezzanine for second chance at incense lighting. A third pavilion looks out over the actual tomb, in a grassy mound across the Lake of Impeccable Clarity.

The site looks ancient, but in fact is from the 1860’s. Feudal Royal Courts were in glory here at roughly the time of the American Civil War – this is recent history in Vietnam. Arriving back mid afternoon we head to what remains of The Citadel, a huge fortress enclosing in one small corner a large imperial court. At the front of the outer stone wall is a pyramidal reinforcement with a strikingly Soviet appearance, right down to the large central pole flying an oversized national flag. The Empresses’ compound alone (in the back, behind the concubines’ “Forbidden Purple City”) is larger than a city block and sports its own small lakes. The Emperor’s quarters and the governing areas are in front. The back gate was once grand, as well, but is now noteworthy for the Swiss cheese remainder of walls pock marked with lead lined holes on the outer facing surfaces. Most of the site is overgrown with grass up top and duckweed down in the moat. The little corners being restored are bright and grand. If a real restoration is completed, Hue will be a major tourist destination.

Just outside the Citadel we happen upon a game of human chess, played in the Chinese game style but with uniformed boys sporting weapon props acting as the pieces, and an adult player-captain in a raised thatched nut on opposing sides of the board calling the moves into microphones. The players make highly acrobatic moves, and when one is “killed” he is carried off by his "dead" team mates to sit with them on a sideline mat. Heavy percussion accompanies the moves. A crowd watches, and there is clearing some betting going on in back. We have ice cream to sweeten our find further. In another bit of unexpected happiness, we find the Dong Ba market (mostly) open and dive in for a lot of looking and a little buying. Bill is drawn to the river front section, but the rest of us are repelled by the fish and meat vending lining this section. After dinner we indulge in another massage, this one at the hotel in the plush spa -- costing as a group what a single would at home.

Eve and Laura make a leisurely morning with slow wake up and breakfast. Mark, Bill, and Linda make another trip to the market before packing and heading for our 10:30 train to Nha Trang. Linda is headed down the stairs to check out when “Linda! We have a problem!!” comes bellowing from down the hall, and train tickets fly out of our room. They are stamped with a 8:45 departure. It is 9:15.

Working with only phone (no central systems exist to access by computer) and limited English, Linda and the lobby travel agent ascertain that though there are many buses (separate calls to each company), none are running for the next two days (Tet), and all trains are fully booked (Tet). She can arrange a private minivan for us for $550, a major fortune in Vietnam, and departure time is uncertain. Linda plays a long phone relay game with our Vietnamese booking travel agent in HCMC who eventually ends with the same conclusion, but she can arrange a minivan for $300 to depart in an hour. Given the options, this sounds good. Meanwhile Bill has cooled down and kicked in to bargain at an agency around the corner for $230, departure in 2 ½ hours. We take it. The specter of missing Nha Trang altogether (and perhaps the vacation-y part of the remainder of our vacation) vaporizes and we are soon on our way. Our travel clan took all of this in stride, patiently occupied with the pool and the glass elevator and chocolate tarts.

The journey to Nha Trang is lovely, at least the part we see in the light. Highway 1, the main national road, parallels The Train Tracks (capitals intentional) that link Hanoi to HCMC. This portion is close to the coast for the most part, is tropical, and is mostly occupied by rice paddies and small towns. The blues and greens are intense. Little bays and inlets are packed with fish farms. Water buffalo and women in conical hats inhabit the fields, except during the hottest hours of mid-day. Swarms of children in school uniform (blue pants, white shirts, red tie for both genders) stream home on bicycles for siesta and again after 5 at the end of the school day. Banners in towns sport propaganda illustrated in the distinctive communist style. Just as in every city we have visited, country towns are fully decked out in the red background, gold symbol Vietnamese star and Communist Party hammer and cycle flags. Official party buildings are obvious in most towns, identifiable by the many flags and more glorious construction, grounds, and upkeep.

The driving is insane. Every moment is a game of chicken as a crowded and very narrow 2 lane road is time-shared into being a virtual 4 lane highway. Busses and trucks pass, tucking narrowly back in with inches to spare the oncoming large vehicles. Swarms of motorcycles and bikes should be hugging the side, but via honking aren’t as they cut in and out as well. Whole families pack onto one motorcycle. Our record sighting was 6. Babies sleep between parents or sibs. Heavy freight is typical. Billboards praise the use of helmets, but have made no apparent impact. We only see one accident on this trip. The whole spectacle is a minor miracle and we thank our lucky stars for an expert driver. We stopped only twice, once at our request for a bathroom break and once for dinner at a roadside restaurant. This was a large building with no ground floor walls. The evening breeze was wonderful and the piles of grilled beef and shrimp were unexpectedly delicious. With nightfall, driving slows a bit. But not much. Flashing brights joins constantly tooting horns as a mode of communication among drivers. A beep isn’t an aggressive move, it’s just saying “I’m here.” All streets are noisy. The highway is a stream of sound as well as mass. Just shy of midnight we roll into the Yasaka Nha Trang, make our way to adjoining rooms, grateful for the excellent showers and comfortable beds.

Our perfect weather streak is unbroken, and the day dawns crystal clear. We’ve had a few sprinkles at night while sleeping, but otherwise blue skies and occasional partially cloudy afternoons, providing relief from the sun. Bill heads off on foot to explore. The rest head off to the post card perfect beach to relax and play. Just as in a travel poster, the water is clear and turquoise, the beach wide with white fine sand, and the backdrop rich with sleep verdant green mountains. Eve leaps in the waves, catches krill, constructs in the sand for hours. The sisters read and chat on chaise lounges under a thatched umbrella structure. Vendors ply tropical fruit, sea food, donuts, massages, facials, books……….

Mark rents a kayak and to Linda’s dismay, rather than heading out parallel to the coast paddles straight out to a distant island. He’s out of earshot over the ocean roar. Linda and Laura watch his yellow dot until it disappears in the distance and wonder what the currents are like out there, how far it really is, whether the distant shore is rocky and wave tossed, and whether a 15 year old boy might notice tiredness and turn around before exhaustion or dehydration set in. Turns out he doesn’t reappear before maternal panic sets in. When the rental Dudes are told where their boat went, there is a lot of fast Vietnamese exchanged in “Oh, no!” tones (doesn’t

help Mom) and an alarmed “He not come back yet?” in English (doesn’t help Mom). Bill is back having explored and bagged a couple of massages, and pronounces that boys will be boys, yes it was a bad choice, but he’ll just be tired, not harmed (or worse, Batman!) Linda is still ready to heave and/or faint. Mothers will be mothers. Eventually the Dudes retrieve binoculars from the hotel and spot the Mark-dot, while Linda has gone to the hotel roof and spotted the same voyager. Upon return, Mark tells us that was fun, he made it there and back, and what is the fuss? The Dudes didn’t even charge him overtime.

Late afternoon, the Higgins head to the Nha Trang market. It’s arranged in concentric circles with the outermost ring housing perishables, the next few (where the building starts) dry goods for locals organized by section, the lower innermost souvenirs and upper decks with yardage. We stop on the fringe for freshly pressed sugar cane juice over ice at an outdoor café. Several refills later we head in to poke about. On the way out we stop for coconut milk: a coconut with the top shaved ¾ through and peeled back to let in first a straw, then a spoon. We take our dinner at a beer hall. One section of the open-sided establishment served large groups of men full steins and occasional plates, and the other section serves families dinner. Ours is good enough that we order a second round (of dinner, not beer).

Breakfast here is – you guessed – a tropical spread with make to order chef. This one is located at the top of the hotel, indoor with outdoor veranda seating, and ocean views. Ahh. For our last morning at the beach paradise, Laura heads for the beach (she knows where she is and where the gold lies in this town!) and the Higgins head back to market for one more round of cane juice and bartering. Linda and Mark stop on the way back for a last massage. They’re first rate.

Our first class train to HCMC is not exactly what we expected, but far better than most Linda and Bill have encountered in less developed countries. It arrives at the station looking worn out and dirty in a way the cars and minivans never do here (they all seem new – a mystery). As we wait by the door of our car for the stream of disembarking passengers to end, a woman bursts through in the midst of violent vomiting and lunges, still heaving and crying out, toward the station. Not a good sign. Eve calmly asks for the Dramamine. We board and survey the dirty car and crowded aisles. Allegedly this is reserved seating. No one protests our motioning towards the seats for which our tickets are numbered, but just move. Later we see others do this. A bad movie and even worse contemporary music performance are shown on overhead high quality screens, which seem incongruous in the rudimentary surroundings. The countryside quickly becomes arid, and about half way to our destination and a bit before dark we turn inland. Dinner is served, airplane style, but even Bill declares the food disgusting (!!). We have a bag of delicacies from the market: spiral cut ½ mini pineapples, mango leather, jack fruit and coconut candy, sesame honey candy, lots of water. Laura breaks out the trail mix she wisely packed in the states. She’s been on Higgins Adventure Travel before, and brought a couple of Costco packs.

Mark and Eve have been glad on numerous occasions. It’s double-good to be back in the Presidential Suite at the Majestic Hotel at about 9:30. We are more awake this time, and fully appreciate the surroundings and excellent beds. Ngyen Hue street is converted back to a major thoroughfare, and just remnants such as the giant pig statues in front of the Majestic remain from Tet. Bill heads out to the night market for T-shirts, but the rest of us renege on our earlier interest and settle back in the comfort of the suite. Bill returns soon: traveling solo he is propositioned so frequently he can’t make forward progress. Majestic it is. We trade favorites from this trip, rank it with others, speculate about returns, and settle in for a short night.

We need to be up before 3 am to catch our flight, but who cares? What time is it at home, anyway? We’re pleased to be upgraded to Business Class for the leg to Hong Kong, with associated prime lounge privileges, and enjoy breakfast in the lounge. We aren’t upgraded for the rest of the way, and so fail our attempt to talk 5 people into the Royal Orchid (Thai Airline) lounge on Linda’s Global services card alone. But we do succeed with a little polite perseverance at the Red Carpet Lounge. Bill has a 7 hour layover, and will continue to Narita for a business meeting in Tokyo. He’d brought a separate suitcase and left it at the Majestic for the duration.

The rest have 2 ½ hours and seats together in Economy Plus for SFO. We luck out and get empty seats next to each other so that the four of us spread over six seats punctuated by an aisle. This is a heavy travel day, so we are quite pleasantly surprised by our good fortune. Another 2 meals, 4 movies, 1 short night (this one need not be artificial) and we’ll be home. Mark wore his comrade hat through immigration, earning us several extra questions from the INS officer, in seeming disbelief that we really traveled to Vietnam without a tour. He needed details and repeated several of his questions until finally asking “You always travel like this?” Yes. As often as possible.

Thank you, thank you, thank you, all, my excellent travel companions. I’m eager for next time.

LSH

25 February 2007

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