Mekong Delta
Trip Start
Apr 20, 2003
1
19
24
Trip End
Jun 10, 2003
Mekong Delta,
Vietnam
Wednesday, June 11, 2003
Off to the Mekong Delta today in a very uncrowded minibus - just myself, and
an Englishman and a Scotsman. If only we'd walked into a pub I could have
done a great joke.
First stop for a break was at a restuarant that had caged pytons and monkeys
in its gardens. Second stop was for lunch at 11am - well I was on a tour....
After another two hours we crossed an Australian financed bridge which spans
the Mekong (your taxes at work again people) and stopped of at Vinh Long
town market. I purchased some great butter bickies which I'm finding
everywhere in Vietnam - they are sensational.
It was then another short bus ride to our first boat ride up the Mekong. The
locals do EVERYTHING in the river - wash clothes, wash themselves, wash
dishes, catch fish. We spent some time riding past very poor riverside
villages with the local kids waving and yelling their hellos. Prior to
getting off in the city of Can Tho we stopped briefly at a tofu factory. It
looked completely unhygenic, and thus I may never eat tofu again (hooray!).
Back in the bus we find that it won't start. Hence we have to push start it
and leave the air con off, due to some electrical fault. We arrive at 4pm at
our bungalows for the evening. The tour guide was constantly staying
"bungalows, very good, very good" however his descriptions proved a little
inaccurate, with a number of holes in the walls of mine. The mossie net
hanging over the bed wasn't a good sign as it's the first place I've stayed
in thats had one. I paid a little extra for air con, as I figured that
mossie don't like chilly temperatures. I turned the air con "up to eleven"
and made the bungalow into arctic conditions.The bungalow resort did have a
pool, but I didn't dare stick my head under as the water was murky and I
figured one throat infection per trip (thanks to the Hoi An pool) was
sufficient.
Prior to sunset, thunder storms were rolling in around the area. Dinner was
on a boat going up the river to Can Tho. The meal wasn't outstanding, but
the atmosphere was, due to the regular sheet lightening flashing around the
Delta.
SNOTTY FLOOR, CRAZY HAZEL and IT'S THE EUROVISION SONG CONTEST AND NORWAY
HAS THE MICROPHONE
I sat through breakfast by myself (as the Scot and Pom were yet to arrive)
watching three local men have theirs. During the meal they proceeded tp
clear their noses via placing one finger over one nostril, and exhaling
quickly out of the other, footy player style. Basically they were boogering
on the floor for want of a better description.
After they left, the lady who appears to run the restuarant in the resort
walked over and started giving me a shoulder and head massage. She'd tried
the same beside the pool yesterday afternoon, however I had the excuse of
"I'm reading a book" to get rid of her then. I didn't find an excuse quick
enough this morning, so the Scot arrived pissing himself laughing as she
rubbed my temples. Given the previously mentioned display of 'manners' from
the three local males earlier, I can understand her enthusiasm, as at no
stage did I snot anywhere. The reasons behind the Mekong Delta women's
penchant for Western males was explained later on in the day.
We hopped into a boat for another trip down the Mekong. First stop was a
floating fruit n veg n baked goods market which was just great. The boats
are crammed in next to each other, with sellers hoisting examples of their
wares up masts as "advertising" as the guide described it. Hence if you want
a pumpkin, you look for the mast with the pumbkin hanging from it. It made
for great photos... I'm 17 rolls in.
After seeing a dead dog floating down the river, bloated to the size of a
cow, we then travelled up and down the canals along the Delta, and stopped
at a Rice Noodle factory. They showed us the processes, including how the
place a crystal chemical called "Alum" in the river water to make (hopefully
all) of the impurities sink to the bottom so they can use the river water in
the noodle manufacturing. After watching the locals use of the river and the
dead dog, I now may never eat rice noodles again as well.
At the factory we stopped for about 20 minutes. I named another
over-friendly local female (this time over-friendly to the Scotsman) "Crazy
Hazel". The guide explained to us that she was older than she looked, had
one child and was divorced. We asked if divorce was allowed - he said it was
expensive but it was allowed. He said that divorce was more common in the
Mekong Delta than elsewhere, the reason being is that Vietnamese men are
predominantly very lazy. For example If you see a couple rowing a boat in
the river, its always the female who is rowing, even if she is an old lady.
This male laziness leads to extreme poverty, especially in these parts.
Hence the females often seek divorce in the end. And hence fit and unlazy
looking westerners who know how to use a tissue properly become attractive
propositions. I'm now officially on guard. The Australian Government should
issue a travel warning or something.
Back in the boat past another vegie market, and its off the boat at Can Tho
for lunch at 11.15am, followed by a short wander around town. As I'm only
doing a two day tour, I thrown into another minibus with others returning to
Saigon. The bus contains a family of ten Norwegians, and an Israeli fella
named Cheim, and a Canuck named Ryan.
On the way back we stopped off at the same market as yesterday - I'd seen it
but this group hadn't. As it started to poor with rain I decided to remain
in the bus for the short while. That short while turned into a half hour of
the driver snoozing, and playing (you guessed it) some Western music. I was
subjected to a heap of shockers, with the main offender being the playing of
(you'll never guess) USA For Africa's "We Are The World". Go figure. I
couldn't even leave the bus as he parked it away from the market area, and
the rain was torrential.
Back on the road and the two guys are nice to chat with. The Norwegian
family started singing Norwegian folk songs on the way back. It was like
being in 'The Sound Of Music' only they weren't Austrian. I thought I was
going to have to break into "Waltzing Matilda" to compete. We arrived back
in Saigon at 5pm.
The English girls have now arrived in Saigon and are staying around the
corner. As always they've outdone me on the price negotiations on the room.
I have dinner with them followed by drinks at the Allez Boo bar. Many others
who we've seen on the way down Vietnam are there, as are Cheim, Ryan, and an
Australian who's just arrived called Paul, who Ryan rescued on the street as
he looked completely lost with a large backpack on. Travellers do stick
together. There's an Irish couple as well who we met in Hoi An - his name
was Ollie, her's was beyond pronounciation. She had told me how wonderful
Melbourne was. Cheim had also told me how wonderful Melbourne was, and how
he planned to stay for 3 days, and ended up spending a month, crying as he
drove out to the airport. I told him that's because the cab fare was going
to be AUD$45. He explained that it was because he loved Melbourne. Everyone
seems to love Melbourne. I should go there some time.
The Poms are giving me a hard time as I don't drink as much as they do. So
are the Irish. So is the Israeli. "Light-weightish" is the description. I'm
letting the country down I know....
LIONEL RITCHIE, THE PEAK OF VIETNAMESE CULTURE and THE WORLD'S WORST PIZZA
Today I got a sleep in, Vietnamese style - 8am. After breakfast I jumped in
a cab to head to Pham Lac pagoda, which is a little out of town and
allegedly very nice. As always, the driver decided to Westernise the sounds
in the cab, so I was bombarded with Michael Bolton, Elton John and Lionel
Ritchie's "Hello".
There are two parts to the pagoda complex. The first is a twenty metre high
traditional ceramic knick-knack looking building. I made the climb to the
outlook balcony which is at about 15 metres. The building looks rather
newish even though it was built in the late 50's.
The second building is far more traditional, and older for that matter. Its
a single storey temple building, with ornate wood carvings, incense smoke
filled rooms, small squares of light shining down from the ceiling, with
praying monks and chanting disciples. All very beautiful and worth the trek,
and worth putting up with Lionel.
Heading back to the hotel I noticed that the clouds were gathering,
monsoonal style. A group of us had agreed to meet at 12pm to head to one of
Saigon's major cultural highlights - The Saigon Water Park. Alas the
downpour commenced right on cue and it was torrential. The gutters were
filled and the roads completely covered. I could not even cross the street,
and was stuck in a cafe for over an hour. The only watersliding to be done
was the Honda Dream motorcycles still scooting up and down Bui Vien Street,
oblivious to the ankle deep water covering even the middle of the road.
At 1pm the rains started to subside, and myself, Rosie and Bec decided to
brave it and head for the Water Park. The others piked it. An American bloke
in the cafe told us the weather would fine up and get hotter now, so we took
his advice, arriving at the park, 15km from town, just after 2pm.
It was all good fun. Your traditional water slides, your tube slides, your
get in an inflatable thing and hurl yourself down a tunnel slide, your crap
yourself its dark and fast tunnel slide, your slow river, your wave pool...
have I mentioned recently that I'm 30 years old, and the world's biggest
kid. The clouds gathered again at 4,30pm with some thunder and lightening,
so we headed back.
After a clean up a group of us headed out for dinner. I had the world's
worst ever pizza. I asked for vegetarian. It had tomato, cheese, and green
beans and cauliflower. Who'd even think to put beans and caulie on a bloody
pizza?
During dinner I pointed out to everyone as to if they'd noticed the local
blokes riding around on bicycles, clicking these metal instruments
constantly, trying to grab people's attention. It sounded like they were
playing the spoons. No one else had noticed, but once I made them aware,
they soon became conscious of them, as they pass you every 3 or so minutes
at night.
Curiosity got the better of us, so as one passed, we asked the question (ie.
"what the hell are you doing mate?"). He answered "massage" and rode away.
Unfortunately that only gave us more questions - so was he a male masseur or
was he the pimp? I noticed no gold chains or loud open neck shirt, and his
name wasn't Bubba or Leroy, so I'd assume he was a massuer.
Out for drinks again after dinner, as is the want of backpackers. All were
there, including Irish Ollie and his girlfriend with the unpronouncable
name. I waved ta-ta to everyone, this time for good. Most are either staying
in Saigon for another day or two, or heading to Cambodia. I head back to
Thailand and Bangers tomorrow.
