Vietnam 2023 – Trip Report 27

Sunday 24 September – Can Tho – Saigon

Yep, alarm not needed.  Clock watching during sleep prevented that annoying sound from doing its thing.

Up just before 7.30am, get ourselves organised, and then down for the usual breakfast of eggs on toast, along with a passionfruit juice.

It’s a little cloudy, but the sun is out, and it’s making Green Village look an absolute picture.

That’s good, but it’s not helping with the fact that we leave in not much more than an hour.

It always looks good, but then sometimes…..

And health wise?

Probably the best I’ve felt in a week.

Which is good.  But…. yeah…., we’re leaving….

Breakfast done, and then back to the room for the final time.  Last of the stuff positioned in that bloody suitcase, along with the backpacks, and then back to the communal area by 9.00am to do that final goodbye, that I hate so much.

We chat with Thy, including about our plans for next year, which will be the tenth anniversary of our first visit.

Not just to Vietnam, but also Green Village, and with that being the case, how could we possibly not come back?

You’re right, we can’t not, so it’s pencilled in, sometime, probably, in September.

It kind of makes me feel better about leaving.  But not much.

The car is running late, which helps, so more chatting ensues to prolong the whole thing.

Including to Oanh, which is pronounced like ‘One’, who has looked after us so well over the last few days with regards to cooking, as well as just helping us out.

Like everyone here, she’s just lovely.

Hearing that the car has arrived, we walk the driveway one last time.  Suitcase removed from my custodianship, temporarily, and then the final goodbye, but definitely more see you later, to Thy, and we’re on our way by 9.30am.

Back onto the main roads, through a village or two, and all of a sudden, and rather unexpectedly, we’re slowing down as we pull over to the side of the road.

It takes a second to work out what’s going on, but all becomes clear when a police officer, carrying a baton, appears in front of the car.

A look over our shoulders confirms the suspicion, when another officer further back down the road is spotted wielding a radar gun.

Our driver hops out, and a conversation begins with the baton holding officer.

It very quickly becomes apparent that, at least from our driver’s point of view, the conversation is not going well, and he is directed off to the side of the road, to take a seat at a table, to begin the formalities that will clearly result in some sort of fine.

It’s all rather surreal, as Lisa and I are left to our own devices in the car, while our driver, who I actually feel a little sorry for, cops his punishment.

I have no idea what the speed limit is, nor obviously what he was clocked at, but it really didn’t feel like he was going overly quick, and he was definitely by no means driving dangerously.

The form filling out continues, while we wait, not terribly patiently, in the car.

Waiting, waiting…..

As it drags out, clock watching then becomes a thing, and we’re now in real danger of missing our bus.

After around ten minutes, which felt much much longer, our driver, who is clearly not that happy, returns, and we are once again on our way.

I’ve pretty much given up on the idea of getting the 10.00am, but I’m far from annoyed, as I know there’ll be plenty of other buses.

We pull up at the bus station at 10.01am, 150 000 Dong car fare paid, which I suspect won’t cover his fine, and that suitcase is once again my responsibility, as we race inside.

I show the girl behind the counter a photo from Thy’s phone of our booking, and yep, not surprisingly, we’ve missed it.

Not to worry, there’s a 10.30am, so a 30 minute delay is a small price to pay for the experience of, well, having an unexpected experience.

330 000 Dong paid for the two tickets, and we take a seat to wait it out, for all of 15 minutes.

Outside, and it’s discovered that there are actually two 10.30am buses, with one of them, more accurately, scheduled for 10.31am.

The ‘10.30am’s’

We’re directed to the ’10.30am’, and I’m once again relieved of the suitcase, while the backpack comes with me.

Onto the bus, shoes off, and beds A15 and A16 are found, all the way up the back, with one in the middle, and one with a window.

Bodies, and bag, are manoeuvred to complete the insertion, and eventually we’re ‘comfortable’ in our ‘beds’.

Got there eventually….

On our way a couple of minutes early, and while there’s not too much in the way of a view, unless you scoot down really low, most of the ‘entertainment’ comes from the bouncing of the bus.

That feeling of weightlessness, as you leave your bed when you go over a bump, is exaggerated due to the fact that we’re right up the back.

It’s a little disconcerting at times, but also rather fun; but only if you manage to not hit your head on the bottom of the bunk above you.

We’ve actually been here before when it comes to the bouncing, having done the same trip in 2019, when we were with Quang.  While I managed to survive relatively unscathed, the same couldn’t be said for a poor kid who was in a bunk above me, with tears spilled when he and the ceiling of the bus came together, after one fairly significant bump in the road.

Out through the city of Can Tho, and into the countryside, before stopping one hour in, at what could be the same rest stop place that we stopped at in 2014.

Off the bus, complimentary Vietnamese size sandals / thongs provided, and in to check out the offerings.

I’m not really hungry; we didn’t eat all that long ago; and I’m a bit reluctant to drink too much, with still another couple of hours of ‘captivity’, ahead of us.

But, in the interests of marriage harmony, and rather than going it alone, we decide to share a pork bánh mì and a cà phê sữa đá (both 25 000 Dong each).

They’re both actually pretty good, which is a little surprising, considering where we are.

Bit of a walk around to stretch the legs, then back on the bus and on the move by 12.00pm.

Not long after we reach the express way, and then the usual sights that I associate with this trip, which immediately take me back to 2014.

Open farm land, never ending rice fields, grave sites and tombs, and the, mostly nón lá wearing, locals, tending the fields.

It stood out to me on that first trip, probably because it was my first glimpse of rural Vietnamese life, and it still grabs my attention nine years later.

On we go, rural life beginning to give way to urban life, and we hit the outskirts of Saigon a bit before 1.30pm.

The traffic, as it usually is, is busy, and it’s now rather slow going.  But our driver, who has been excellent throughout the trip, continues to be so.  Even to the point of being aware, and then considerate, of the last significant bump, not far from the bus station, which, as usual, is associated with arriving at a bridge.

Those ‘irregularities’, between road and bridge in these parts, have been something I have often wondered about, surmising that it can only have been done on purpose, to kind of announce your arrival, and departure, of said bridge.

Well, I hope it’s been done on purpose, as the alignment, evenness, and continuity, could hardly be described as good.

Into Mien Tay bus station a bit after 1.30pm, extrication from our ‘beds’ performed, and then out into the expected scrum of taxi touts, all vying for business.

That suitcase retrieved; just great to have it back again…..; and then we walk, pretty much in the direction of the back of the bus station.

“Where are we going?”, the questions begin.

“This way”, is the response.

“What are we doing?”, they continue.

“Walking.  Away from here”, is the answer I didn’t think I’d need to give.

To be fair, while I’d been in situations like this a few times over the last four weeks, Lisa had been a little sheltered, and perhaps a little out of practice, and I probably should have told her my plan, rather than just assuming she’d work it out.

On we go; Lisa and that suitcase in tow; past a small dog over on the left, who is in the process of removing something that its stomach didn’t agree with, and then out onto the street at the back.

The desire to get a Grab is revealed, which puts her mind at rest, and we quickly have a hit.

Exactly which car it is, is still to be determined, so the scouring of numberplates, while trying to understand what I’m seeing on the live map positioning thing, begins.

All of a sudden, and for the second time in three days, Lisa comes through, when she spots him.

Shocked, surprised, and ever so slightly, impressed, we start moving towards him, albeit slowly, with this bloody suitcase.

He, however, keeps moving away from us, and actually begins to enter the bus station, exactly from where we’ve just walked.

Unburdening myself of the suitcase, I make a beeline for the car, which, fortuitously, stops at the entrance.  I’m close enough to see him pay, what appears to be a 20 000 Dong fee to enter, which gives me time to actually reach the car, and actually tap on the window, as he goes to move off.

He turns and acknowledges me in a way that yes, he is well aware of who and where we are, indicating that everything is okay, and he will be back in a minute.

I’m more than a little confused, and I return to Lisa to try and follow him on the Grab app.

The questions then start again – Where is he going?  Why didn’t he just stop?  Why is he going that way?

I have no answers, and while Lisa wants to question his motive, while suggesting that the bus station fee may have something to do with the whole thing, I really can’t be bothered, as it’s just not worth the hassle and heartache.

I watch his progress on the app, and sure enough, following a lap of the block, he returns, pulling up in front of where we’re standing, just a few metres from where I tapped on his window.

Confused, perplexed, I can do nothing but manhandle the suitcase into the boot, and accept that the quoted Grab charge of 107 000 Dong to the Le Blanc, will more than likely also have the 20 000 Dong fee added on to it.

Into the car, and as Lisa begins dealing with the seatbelt thing, our driver indicates not to.

I don’t know why.

She begins to question it, to which I respond that it really, as in really, doesn’t matter.

Again, it’s just not worth the fight, and anyway, we’re in Saigon, and as such, will likely not reach speeds of anything even remotely significant.  And nor will anyone else.

Simply going with the flow, I sit back and spend my time following our progress on Google Maps, enjoying the excellent air conditioning of the car, and just generally trying to ignore the seatbelt-less intrepid one.

Through the busy streets, the Le Blanc becomes visible on my phone, and we soon get to a very familiar intersection, with the burning Buddha monument on the corner.

Turn right into Nguyen Dinh Chieu, and less than 15 minutes after finally leaving the bus station, we pull up outside the Le Blanc just after 2.00pm.

Unsure on the fare payable, I hold back and wait for our driver to tell me.

107 000 Dong is indicated, with absolutely no mention of whatever fee he appeared to pay earlier.

Cảm ơn given, once again back to dealing with the suitcase, and we make our way into the lane, passing the old lady who is often seen sitting at her doorway, who gives me the biggest smile she’s ever given me.

It was nice, and just confirmed how good it was to be back.

Into the Le Blanc, painless check in completed with the younger girl; it’s good to see her again; and then up the stairs, dragging, carrying, cursing, Lisa’s, relatively newly acquired suitcase…..

Into our room, and it’s like coming home, as it’s the same one I walked out of on the last day of August.

Sigh….where has it all gone…..

A quick unpack and sorting of stuff, along with a bit of cooling down, and outside to do something about food, seeing as we kind of missed lunch.

Across the main-ish road and over to Diagonal Street, past all the usual vendors and faces that seem to be here pretty much every day.

Again, it’s just nice to be back.

Down to the Bun Bo Hue place, and we get a smile from our guy who is out the front.  Quick chat, which is a reminder that having lunch here is on the definite list of things to do before we leave this week, and then down and around the corner onto the other main-ish road.

Fortuitously, the bánh mì place I went to a few weeks ago, which is also the one we used last year, is open, so two are ordered (20 000 Dong), minus the pate, of course.

A walk of the hems, while enjoying lunch, to help Lisa get reacquainted with the layout, until the desire to sit and relax somewhere coolish, despite the fact that we’ve spent most of the day already sitting down in cool environments, becomes too much.

Back, roughly in the direction of our Bun Bo Hue guy, in the hope that I can find the hem we sat in last year, when we found a girl doing various drinks from a cart, outside her house.

I know it runs off Diagonal Street, but the question is which hem, and how far up?

Hazy memories, a fair way back in my brain, are searched for, while we walk in the general area.

We spot a small group in the distance, sitting on small plastic stools, so we head down.

And yep, we’ve found it!

The girl sees us, and when she realises we’re interested, can’t organise a couple of stools quick enough.

Two passionfruit juices (15 000 Dong each), along with complimentary trà đá, and we sit and enjoy while having a bit of fun with a local couple, and their friends, who are also doing the same as us.

And that’s the thing I love so much about the hems, and areas like this; the people.  Their friendliness, their willingness to engage, and the fact that they do that with absolutely no ulterior motive, unlike a lot of the ones you find in the tourist areas of ‘insert any popular town / city in Vietnam’, or any other similar area in any other country, for that matter.

It’s refreshing, it’s real, and it’s just so enjoyable and rewarding.

Drinks, and fun, done, we head back to the Le Blanc for a short rest and recovery session, around 3.30pm.

I’m knackered, with slightly concerning muscle aches, coming from this thing that continues to linger.

The rest does actually help, and I leave Lisa to do her thing, when I head up to my beer place at 4.00pm.

Over to Diagonal Street, then veer off onto the scenic route, by using the hems.

I reach the busy road, stop, wait for a small gap, then pluck up the courage and take the leap of faith.

Halfway across, and one of the young girls sees me coming, smiling and acknowledging and immediately setting about organising a table for me.

It’s nice, and again, it’s these little relationships that I love so much.

Quickly seated, beer in front of me, and I’m just rapt to be back here amongst familiar faces, and familiar scenes.

The main guy walks in a few minutes later, and after initially being a bit pre-occupied with something, glances over and sees me, giving me a big smile, and a thumbs up.

Yep, I’m a regular…..

Couple of beers, and then with a spot outside available, I head out to get a closer look at Saigon doing its thing.

As I go to sit down, the main guy comes out and directs me to a more undercover table, worried that the threatening looking clouds above, may impact my level of comfort.

His care, and concern, is much appreciated, and just reinforces my love for this place.

Another beer, while the world is watched, and more familiar faces come by.

The rubbish guys continuing to do their thankless job, but this time, with an assistant, who is probably no older than 12 years old.

His energy and enthusiasm, to impress and make a difference, is incredible.

An older guy then turns up and sits next to me.  I know I’ve seen him before, or at least think I have, but I just can’t work out where.

The penny finally drops, when I realise he’s my barber, from last year.

More sitting, more watching, and then one more beer, before it’s time to head back, a bit before 6.00pm.

Over the busy road, and down to my takeaway guy, for supplies.

As soon as he sees me approach, he gives me a huge smile.  It’s nice to see him again, and even nicer that he remembers.

I make an attempt to impress him, by using my newly acquired skill of Vietnamese numbers, and ask him for tám (eight) beers.

That results in a slightly confused look appearing on his face, but then realises what I’m asking for, while also correcting my pronunciation of the word.

Yep, the more I think I know, continues to prove otherwise.  It’s going to be a very long and difficult project….

Beers bagged up, pronunciation lesson received so it can be promptly forgotten, and 12 000 Dong beers paid for.

“See you again!”, he says, as I go to walk off.

“Yes you will!”, I respond, and then throw in a hẹn gặp lại, for good measure.

Back down the street, with the whole world just feeling like a much happier place.

It really is great to be back.

Down to the Le Blanc, a few notes, another beer, and then a shower to get ready for dinner.

Those earlier threatening looking clouds have started to do their thing.  And in a big way.

It is absolutely bucketing down, to the point that venturing outside really isn’t an option at the moment.  Even with wet weather gear or an umbrella.

We wait it out for a bit, and as it begins to ease, we make the move downstairs.

Into the reception area, and while the rain isn’t as heavy as it was, it’s still far too heavy to give me any great desire to head out into it.

A little more waiting, and eventually it eases enough to make a move.  Out into it, and while Lisa’s small umbrella does actually help, it really only keeps the top half dry, as water, due to the amount still trying to drain away, splashes a considerable way up your legs.

Over to diagonal Street, and then up the main-ish road, we find my place on the corner of one of the hems, from four weeks ago.

As far as sheltered area goes, there’s not a lot, but with a little shuffling of stools and tables by the incredibly friendly owner, we are found a spot that is, ‘relatively’, undercover.

Dinner of noodle soup with dumplings, pork, chicken, and what looks to be some sort of sausage, quickly arrives, and as it was a few weeks ago, it is beautiful.  And that broth is just sublime.

I’d love a beer, but with the rain still coming down, I can’t bring myself to ask the guy for one, as it means he’ll then have to deal, and head out, into it.

Food done, we sit and wait it out, in the hope that the rain eases a little more.  It eventually does, so bill of 100 000 Dong is fixed up, and we make our way up towards the beer place.

Over Dien Bien Phu, one of the girls sees us coming, and before we’ve even walked in, she’s arranged a table for us.

A couple of beers had, before asking the main guy for another, but this time requesting a glass, along with a chunk of ice in it, just to change it up a little.

He gives me a look of total disdain, clearly very anti ice in beer, but then laughs, and sets about retrieving my ‘abhorrent’ request.

We sit, chat, and just generally watch, taking in everything around us.  I feel really comfortable here, but that’s probably more about the fact that I’m made to feel really comfortable.  It’s the people, and I’m incredibly grateful for not just the way that they look after me, but also that they take the time, and make the effort, to interact.

It’s all mostly fairly insignificant things, but again, it’s the little things that often mean so much.

A couple more beers, a purchase of some of those rice cracker things (three for 20 000 Dong), from a street vendor, who pops in to try her luck, and then just after 9.00pm, we make our way back to the Le Blanc.

Onto the bed for the usual Trip Advisor and a few notes, before pulling the pin just after 11.00pm.

It’s been a fairly long day, as most moving days tend to be, and while it unfortunately signals the beginning of the end, I am very pleased to be back in Saigon.

I love it here, and I love the people that you find here.  It’s a great little community, and it’s one that I just feel so at home in.

Three full days to go, with the loose plan for the first of those being money exchange, over near that place I love so much, Ben Thanh market, as well as perhaps a look down along the canal or river.

Perhaps….

Cheers,

Scott