Vietnam 2022 – Trip Report 28

Tuesday 4 October – Saigon

A sound sleep it certainly was not.

Wake several times during the night, and each time I do, it looks like it’s light outside.

It’s not, well, it is, but that’s only because there are several lights on.

Then there’s that noise.  In my sleep haze, it sounds like someone is slapping a thong on the ground.

I look outside again.

There’s no one there.

Where is this noise coming from?

I step back, trying to get my brain to think clearly, and then realise it’s the blind being blown against the window by the air conditioner.

Problem is solved quicker than the problem of actually working out what the problem was.

And then there were the dreams.  Strange dreams.  And ones that made absolutely no sense.

Kind of like the ones that rice wine sometimes gives me.  But there was no rice wine last night.

Night becomes day, and it’s 7.00am.  Of course.

Back to sleep, and it does actually work, and then up a bit after 8.00am.

I keep thinking about what is coming up, and that annoys me.  Like really annoys me.

We still have two full days, which is good, and we need to make the most of them.  And to do that, I really need to stop thinking about the end.

Live the moment, live the moment…..

So, plan for today?

Don’t really have one.

Well, apart from maybe doing something about dirty laundry.

Do we do it today?  Or tomorrow?

Today gives us plenty of time, while tomorrow potentially runs the risk of cutting it a little too fine in relation to when we leave.

Damn it!, there I am thinking about the end again!

Finally ready to ‘start’ the day, we head out around 9.30am.  Laundry decision is still yet to be made, so we’ll decide once my brain kicks in, which will likely be after a coffee.

Down Diagonal street, and we find our café from the day we arrived.  Two caphe sua da’s ordered (28 000 Dong each), our guy remembers us, along with complimentary tra da’s (iced tea), and the savouring and world watching begins while sitting on the street.

Coffees done, brain slightly more active, we head up the more main road, which isn’t really main at all, in search of laundry options.

Past a sign with giặt (laundry) written on it, and then up further to another one I noticed yesterday.

There’s a guy inside, and he has several washing machines visible.  We head in, Google translate at the ready, which, considering where we are, is more than likely going to be required, and when he sees us, he has this shocked look on his face.

‘Horrified’, may even be a better word to describe it.

He musters the strength to have a crack at a conversation with these two scary Westerners, and we do the Google translate thing.

His reply to my question of how long would he need, to look after our laundry, is one of “Very busy today.  Sorry”.

Okay, tomorrow?, is my follow up question.

He holds up three fingers, which doesn’t really make things clearer.  Is that three hours?  Or three days?

I don’t know, and it’s all just become a bit more difficult than it should be.

He’s clearly struggling with the whole thing, and more than likely wishing we weren’t there, so in the end I put him out of his misery and leave him alone.

And I have no issue with that at all, and I completely understand his apprehension and anxiety when it comes to such things.

Back out on the street, and we return to the first laundry place we saw.  This one is run by two women, and they too have rather shocked looks on their faces when we walk in.  They, however, are up for the challenge, and we find out if we drop off today, we can pick up tomorrow.

No problem, and we give them a hẹn gặp lại (see you again), which probably isn’t the best phrase to use in this case, to try and let them know we’ll be back in a few minutes.

Back towards the LeBlanc, down Diagonal street, and past our Bun Bo Hue place.  Our guy sees us go past, and he gives us a wave and a huge smile.  It’s not too far off four weeks since we met him, and I love that he remembers us.

Upstairs and into the room, clothes that don’t smell like they should quickly bagged up, as well as Lisa’s shoes, which are now a different colour to what they should be.

Back outside again, and footsteps are, for the third time already today, once again retraced.  Dirty clothes dropped off, and yes, no problem with doing the shoes, and we head off to begin our day.

Nothing terribly exciting planned, just a walk with a view of maybe seeing a tourist site, or two, which we really haven’t done a great deal of over the journey.

In fact, apart from the War Remnants Museum on our very first day in 2014, we haven’t been inside any of the other places.  Although, we did manage to finally go into the post office on the last trip.

Having said that, there’s no guarantee that we’ll be going inside any of the ones we may, or may not, see today.

Down to, and across, the main road, and then down one of the hems (lanes), before reaching the next main road.  I can see the phone shop which sold me my dodgy sim, and I think momentarily about going in to ‘discuss’ my issue, but then decide I really can’t be bothered.

Over the road, and down another hem; gee I love these little streets!

As we go, it starts to get narrow.  Like really narrow, and I start to wonder if we’ll reach a dead end.

We must have had doubting looks on our faces, because an older guy sitting outside his house smiles and nods at us, indicating to ‘keep going’.

I love it, and again, I just love these streets, with all these authentic friendly locals, with their smiles and acknowledgements, as we walk through.

It’s a bit different to Hanoi, and in some ways, it’s actually better.

Not sure I could ever have imagined myself saying that….

We continue on, receiving another couple of ‘keep going’s’, as we do, and then end up in a hem that is barely wide enough for one person, before eventually coming out on a main road.

I loved it, and honestly, you could walk past the entrance, or in our case, exit, every day of the week, and never know what’s down there.

Down another hem that we walked three and a half weeks ago, which makes me realise that we are now further south of the main tourist area, than I want to be.

Correction made, and then into another hem that looks familiar.  And it looks familiar because it is, as we sat in this lane and had lunch at a street food place, three years ago, between moving out of the Thien Hai hotel, and moving in to the Little Saigon.

We found it by accident last time, and we’ve done the same again today.  Amazing!

Back onto a main road, then onto Ly Tu Trong street, and up past the Thien Hai.  It’s good to see it again.

We turn off and head down towards Ben Thanh market, with absolutely no desire to enter it, and notice that the ‘street food market’, that I had a couple of beers at last time, is now no longer.  It appears it’s being turned into a bar or nightclub.

It was far from my type of place, but it’s more my type of place as it was, than what it’s now about to become.

Looks like you can still get food and beer there, but I think it just might be a different type of place now.

Past the market, and I’m informed that the Intrepid one is hungry, as well as thirsty.  It is 11.30am, and to be fair, we didn’t do anything for breakfast, but to bring it up now?  As in here, right in amongst tourist central?

Well, it’s not going to happen immediately, but I agree to work on it.

Off towards Nguyen Hue, notice a coconut seller, and that takes me back to day one, 2014, when Lisa almost got caught out.

Interestingly, he doesn’t approach us, and my suspicion is that we probably look far more comfortable, and therefore, more experienced, than we did way back then.

I think they are very good at picking their targets.

Onto Nguyen Hue at the top, outside the grand looking People’s Committee Building.  We have seen it before, but it was at night, and it had been after a number of beers with a certain German guy we just happened to catch up with last night.  So yeah, not only some six years ago, but also not in the best of conditions to remember too much about it.

Anyway, during the day and stone cold sober, it is indeed an impressive looking building.

Yep, impressive.

Uncle Ho.

Looking up Nguyen Hue. Plenty there, plenty to look at, but yeah, not really my area.

Down Nguyen Hue, which we’ve obviously been on before, but not having ever actually walked the length of it, we play tourist and do so.

It too is an impressive street, being both rather long, and very wide.

Down to the bottom, and with the Saigon River beckoning on the other side of one very, very busy road, we take our chances.

Well, we eventually take our chances, as the sheer volume of traffic was just relentless, with very few small breaks, that at home, you would never step out into.

But here, if you wait for something bigger, well, you’re just going to spend the whole day waiting.

We reach the other side, and walk a bit of the river.  While it’s not sunny, there’s no shortage of heat, and that heat is starting to impact things a little.

The Saigon River.

It also reminds me of someone’s earlier request, and I know if I don’t come good soon, things could become unpleasant.

For both of us.

In the meantime, we take a seat for a few minutes to try and cool down.

Slightly recovered, we head on a bit further, and because we made that decision to cross that really busy road, we now have to do it again.

Small break, eventually, noticed, and the leap of faith is taken.  Up Dong Khoi street, and up on the left is a building that looks, for some reason, familiar.

And I believe I know why, which surprises me greatly, as the only time I saw it was on television, and it was several years ago.  It’s Luke Nguyen’s restaurant, Vietnam House.

I don’t why I noticed it, as while I don’t mind him, you could never describe me as a huge fan.

On we go, reaching the opera house, then Notre Dame Cathedral, which is still wrapped up in scaffolding, and then the post office.

That’s a lot of scaffolding!

We then turn down towards the Reunification Palace (aka Independence Palace), and as I’ve not been able solve the Intrepid one’s food problem, the unification of the two of us is in serious jeopardy.

The wilting is well underway, and I know we’ve reached a limit.

We try the sitting thing again, this time in the 30/4 Park, in the hope a short rest will bide some time.

It doesn’t really work, and it’s just me, a colourful looking caterpillar on the bench next to me, and a now very teary Intrepid one, who right now, I think hates me.

Somewhat settled, but no doubt a certain amount of hatred still present, we move on down towards the palace, before then turning right.

A bit further up, we can see people sitting on the street eating, and now being in a much less touristy area, we head up to have a look.  Looks okay, but there’s also another place nearby doing rice, amongst several other dishes, and the Intrepid one much prefers the look of that one.

I’m not arguing, right now she can have whatever she wants.

We head in, there’s heaps of locals there, in what is a kind of courtyard area, and it appears to be a buffet type set up.

Lisa has rice with beef and vegetables, while I go with the same, but substituting the cow with a chicken.  And to deal with the thirst issue, a jug of tra da.

The food, while simple, is really good, and the sauce the chicken is in goes really well with the rice.

And for once, I’m able to eat it all, and still feel comfortable.

Lunch done, tears well and truly dried, and hatred packed away for another time, I fix up the bill of an absolutely bargain price of 80 000 Dong.

Off in the direction of the LeBlanc, and eventually onto Nguyen Dinh Chieu.

It’s hot, like real hot, and the final stretch to the hotel is really starting to drag.

We reach an intersection, and on the right I notice something, which absolutely blows me away.

It’s the monument honouring Thích Quảng Đức, a Vietnamese Mahayana Buddhist monk who burned himself to death in 1963.

I had absolutely no idea it was right here, even though we have driven past it twice, including just yesterday, on the way from the airport.

It’s a pretty impressive looking statue, but it’s what it symbolises that really grabs me.  And it did from the moment I first saw it.

But I just can’t think of when that actually was, as I can’t actually remember ever being out in this area.

The best I can come up with, is that we were far more lost than I thought we were, on the day we arrived back in 2014, when we somehow managed to find the War Remnants Museum.

If it wasn’t that, then it may have been that we drove past it, perhaps on the trip out to Cu Chi Tunnels, again, on that first trip?

I just don’t know, but my belief is that we walked past it at some point.

Anyway, it’s good see it again, even if it is a little hard to look at, when you stop to think about the act, and how Thích Quảng Đức reached that point.

Somewhat enlightened on where things are, even though that wasn’t my intention to be so, and we eventually make it back to the LeBlanc.

Air conditioner switched on, t-shirts peeled off.  Damn it’s hot!

Rest and recovery is commenced, and in the end, I actually sleep for a good 45 minutes.

Back out around 3.00pm, and being a little early for a beer, it is time for a cold drink.  And the desire is a nước mía đá.

Outside, and it’s raining.  Not heavy, but it looks like it has been, with a fair bit of water laying around.

Into our hems, and just down from the local market, which reminds me, we need to see that again at some point, we find a woman running a nuoc mia cart.

Just one of our hems.

Two are ordered, she organises a couple of stools for us, and we’re soon sipping, savouring, and watching the world do its thing, while interacting with our lady, by using Google translate.

Nuoc mia da’s are always pretty good, but sometimes they’re just better.  And this particular one, is one of those.

We let her know how much we’re enjoying hers, and she holds up some cumquats, explaining that she also uses them in the juice.

Not everyone does use them, but a lot do, and they do make a difference, by cutting through some of the sweetness.

While sitting there, she has another customer, this time a young local girl.  I don’t know how much our drinks are; rarely ask prices in areas like this; so I watch her serve the young girl.  Drink made, money handed over; looks like 10 000 Dong; which is pretty much the going rate, and what I would expect, seeing as we were paying 10 000 Dong in Hanoi, just a few days ago.

We decide to finish our drinks while walking the hems, so I head over to pay.  Not making an assumption and just handing over 20 000 Dong, I ask the question.

30 000 Dong, apparently.  Money is handed over, with a smile of course, and while I’d planned to return here tomorrow, I think I’ve now changed my mind.

Oh well…..

Up in the general direction of my beer place, and then we do a lap of the block, all the while enjoying the last of our nuoc mia da.

And yes, it’s still just as good as when we didn’t know the price, with no bitter after taste present.

But I’m still not going back.

We get back to the LeBlanc, and while we always knew there was a petrol station nearby, we didn’t know about the convenience store next to it.  A quick detour for a can of Coke, a packet of chips, and a look around to see what else they have, and then back to the room to drop Lisa off, as well as change my footwear.

Thongs off, dirty Keen’s sandals on, as last night at my beer place, I saw shoe cleaner guy turn up trying to drum up business.

It’s probably either now, or at the latest, tomorrow, to get this chore done, as if I don’t do it, then I’m probably going to have to buy a cheap scrubbing brush and do it myself.

Back out again, up to the busy road, and looking across, I can see they have quite a few inside already.

My beer guy sees me, and while he smiles, which is very, very good, as the nervousness has now finally gone, he has a slightly worried look about where he is going to seat me.

I motion that I’m more than happy to sit outside, and a large relieved grin comes across his face, as he fetches me a stool and table.

He’s happy, but I’m happier, as footpath beers are always better than ‘inside’ beers.

Beer quickly arrives, and world, now just that little bit closer, is again being watched.

It’s the same old, same old, and I love that I’ve come to know, or more just recognise, a few of the locals who go about their thing, while I do mine.

The young school kid, who waits patiently for his Dad over the road, to come and help him to cross the street.  The two young rubbish collector guys, who come past every day to sort through the rubbish that is piled up during the day, carefully, but speedily, separating the recyclables from the non-recyclables.

The daily ritual.

Again, a thankless job, but a job that is so important.

I sit, watch, and take more photos than I should.  But I tend to do that when the end is so close, as I want to remember as much as I possibly can, with the small amount of time we have left.

Third beer arrives, and I’m now starting to get a little worried, as the shoe cleaning guy is yet to be seen.

A few minutes later, and without warning, he comes walking down the street.

I sit back and watch for a minute, as he tries his luck with a couple of the locals.  They reject him, but then he glances over in my direction, and notices my dirty Keens.

His eyes light up, as he points at them, and then starts getting his things organised.

I laugh, and slow him down.

“How much?”, I ask.

He pulls out a 50 000 Dong note, and shows me.

I’ve never had my shoes cleaned, and while I don’t know what the going rate is, 50 000 sounds a little steep.

I was probably expecting around half that, but I just don’t know.  And not wanting to insult him by possibly cheapening his service, I agree.

And besides, he’s a lovely guy, and he’s saving me the hassle of not only not having to do it myself, but also from buying a brush to actually do it.

Or, ‘borrowing’ Lisa’s toothbrush, when she’s not looking, and using that, which perhaps not surprisingly, but also maybe concerningly, had crossed my mind.

Shoes handed over, he sets about on his job, while I watch from a short distance away.  While I’ve watched them do their thing prior to this, I’m now finding myself taking far more interest in the procedure.  Partly because he’s close by, but probably just more that they’re my shoes.

My shoe cleaner guy.

Anyway, I am impressed, as he is very thorough, even putting a little shoe polish on the black rubber part of the sandals.  It was a nice touch, and it did make them ‘pop’.

Ten to fifteen minutes after he began, he’s finished, and my Keen’s look as shiny and new as the day I bought them.

50 000 Dong note handed over, as well as a cảm ơn, and while I’m still not completely sure on what a fair and reasonable amount is for shoe cleaning, I’ve ticked a box, and I’m more than happy with the result.

And he seems appreciative of the job, too.

He did a great job!

Another beer ordered, but this time a Saigon Red, mainly, and pretty much only, because I want to keep the cap.

Yes, I collect them.

It arrives, and I manage to stop the girl from opening it, just in time.

Yes, I have a particular opener that removes them with bending them.

The end result is I have a new bottle cap, and my beer girl now thinks I’m strange.

But that’s ok, and I suspect she’s not alone.

A new cap, with the bonus of a beer.

Time to make a move, and the bill of 86 000 Dong is paid, which doesn’t make a heap of sense when I try and work out the price of the Saigon Red, but in the end, it doesn’t matter.

On the way out, I use Google to tell the young beer guy ‘I’ll see you tomorrow’, to which he gives me the thumbs up, along with a big smile.

It’s taken a few days, but I think I now have them, and it’s nice that they now feel far more comfortable around me.

Across the busy road, and down to my convenience store from last night.  He sees me coming, and when I say Saigon Green, he holds up five fingers, to which I smile, and nod.

I love it!

And I just love this area, and its people.

The hems, which when we first arrived four weeks ago, were a little daunting to begin with, but only in a directional and getting lost thing.  Now, however, and while I may not always pick the right one, I find them easy to navigate.

But it’s more than the hems.  It’s the people.  And it’s these little relationships, like now with my beer guy, that I appreciate so much.

They’re little more than small interactions, but they mean so much to me, and it’s just nice to be a, albeit brief, part of their community.

Back to the LeBlanc, a slightly bigger smile on my face, and life is pretty good.

My now sparkling Keen’s are put to one side, never to be worn again until we’re about to walk out of the LeBlanc for the final time; my smile now diminished somewhat at that thought; and the as usual much needed shower is had.

Cleaner, and far more refreshed, we’re ready to go.  Well, one of us is, as Lisa isn’t quite ready.

I sit, and wait, and just generally get more frustrated.  This is the same person who complains when we miss ‘lunch time’, or ‘dinner time’, with those windows not always being open that long, due to the way of the Vietnamese, who tend to eat a bit earlier than us.

Probably, and mainly, because they’re up earlier than us.

Eventually, she’s ready, and we’re outside just after 7.00pm.

Into our hems, and while there’s still options, nothing much is appealing to the Intrepid one.

We find a place that looks promising, with lots of locals there, and with Lisa keen, we head across to take a look.

Straight away I know this isn’t going to work, as it’s ốc, as in snails, of the seafood variety, along with a few other bits and pieces that share the sea with those snails.

“You sure”, I ask, as I point at our potential dinner.

Being the seafoodphobic she is, we move on.

Around the corner, up the hem that sort of runs from the market, and up towards the busy road my beer place is on, we see a bánh xèo sign, along with a number of locals already partaking.

Decision made, and we’re quickly seated at a table on the usual small plastic stools, out in the actual hem.  Again, it’s my much preferred way of doing it, and the fact that there is no one, and I mean no one, else that looks like us, well, that just makes it even better.

Our food arrives, and while it’s a bit fiddly, as we know it is, it’s really good, with my only complaint being that they didn’t have Saigon beer, with the only options being either Heineken, or Tiger.

We’re in South East Asia, so it won’t be Heineken.

Food done, along with four Tiger beers, and the total comes to 214 000 Dong.  So, best guess is likely 75 000 each, plus 15 000 for each beer.  That leaves 4000 Dong, which will be for the wet wipe/s we used.

And yes; you use, you pay.  But that doesn’t apply to the dry napkins.

As we’re fixing up the bill, a young guy, who works there, comes over to chat.  His English is excellent, and he’s interested in where we’re from.

We tell him Australia, but then he asks if we live here?

A bit surprised, I tell him no, and he then proceeds to tell us that he noticed how we ate our bánh xèo, and that he was impressed that we knew how it works, and how it should be done.

“You ate it like a local would!”, he says, which I take as a huge compliment.

We chat for a bit, and he really was a lovely guy, and I’m just rapt that he took the time to come and talk to us.

Up the hem, around the corner onto the busy road, and then onto my beer place.  There’s a few around, and we manage to get a table pretty much exactly where I was sitting earlier.

Two beers quickly arrive, and something is obviously lost in translation, as one is a Saigon Green, while the other is a Tiger.  But this Tiger is of the slushy type, and one that therefore comes with a straw.

Lisa’s eyes light up, as she’s never averse to any drink that comes with a straw, while all I have of this scenario is visions of having to hold her hair back later tonight.

I don’t know, just doesn’t look right.

We sit and watch the world; the locals doing their thing, the rubbish collectors and recyclers over the road, who I admire immensely, along with the rats scurrying around nearby, as well as a few cockroaches here and there, doing what cockroaches do.

Interestingly, the Intrepid one has no problem with the rats.  In fact, I think she actually finds them cute.  But cockroaches are a different thing, and while she doesn’t have an issue with introducing them to the sole of a shoe, she struggles with seeing them doing their cockroachy thing.

So much so, that she sort of squirms when she notices one nearby.

I’ve never understood it, as to me, they’re just big insects.

More sitting, more beer, along with occasional squirming, especially when I picked one of her scary ‘roaches’ up.

I even told her that toilet paper here, in the bar’s rather basic toilet, was made of dried cockroaches, seeing as they were so plentiful.

She actually laughed at that, but has now refused to use the provided facilities, just in case.

A few minutes later a lotto ticket seller turns up, and as is not uncommon, this one is a reasonably elderly female.

You see them all the time on the street, and in bars like this, and usually, well, at least in our experience, they tend to not even approach foreigners, and instead just try to sell tickets to the locals.

Many don’t buy, but many also do, with some locals actually seeking the sellers out.

I don’t know a great deal about the whole thing, other than the tickets are 10 000 Dong, and my belief is the seller gets a very, as in very, small commission on tickets sold.

Anyway, her appearance reminds me of something that I’ve wanted to do for a while, after witnessing it once, or maybe it was twice, but I’ve just never had the nerve to actually do it.

She sells a ticket or two, and with her now being rather close to us, I smile as she looks over.  She holds out her tickets in an offering manner, but I suspect she’s really not expecting a sale.

She’s wrong, as I’ve decided I’m going to do this, and I get up and go to her.

Ticket taken, 10 000 Dong note handed over, and then I hand her the ticket back.

She’s a little surprised, but smiles in an appreciative sort of way, and moves on to her next potential customer.

Now I have no idea if she’s going to pocket the 10 000, and re-sell the ticket, or if she’ll keep the ticket and try her luck.

In the end, I don’t care, but kind of hope she keeps it, and gets lucky with it in the process, winning far more than just that 10 000 Dong.

I return to my stool, more than a little content that I’ve now done something I’ve wanted to do for a while, and Lisa is now the one with a slightly surprised, but also a rather impressed, look on her face.

One final beer had, just as they start packing up, bill is paid, and we head across the now not so busy road, and down the street.

We reach Diagonal street, which is the one we need, and as we turn in, a girl pushing a bike carrying bags of those crunchy rice cakes, walks past.

It takes a second to register what she has, but when I do, I let out a ‘Oh!’

I turn around, and as I do, I give her an em ơi, as she too turns around.

I race back to her, and judging by the look on her face, I doubt she thought she was going to get a sale when she walked past us.

She still has quite a few left, and there’s differing amounts in the bags hanging off the bike.

We decide to pass on a bag of five, and end up with a bag three (25 000 Dong), which is heaps for the amount of time we have left.

Transaction complete, I then ask, using hand motions, if I can have a photo with her.  Without hesitating, she agrees.

She was really lovely, and I think she enjoyed the interaction, almost, as much as me.

Again, I don’t know, these little moments just mean so much.

Back to the LeBlanc, and onto the bed for the usual, but this time with beer and rice crackers, rather than beer and chips.

I’m so pleased we made the decision to come back to Saigon for three nights, and didn’t sell it short by only having two.

It was a decision that was thought long and hard about, and in the end, it was the right decision.

And I’m very pleased about that.

But, just one full day to go.

It’s been going quick for a while now, but now it feels like it’s racing.

Live the moment; make the most of it.

Bit after 11.00pm, pin is pulled.

Hmmm, maybe I’m getting better at this?

But I know, tomorrow night, with it being the final one, I’ll likely slip back to my old ways.

Oh well, nice to be good sometimes….

Cheers,

Scott