Drinking In The Culture
22 May 2018 | Hoi An, Vietnam
Monday 21 May 2018
Drop off in Saigon upon return from two day excursion to the Mekong delta yesterday afternoon had us walking along Bui Vien Street (diacritics, used on most vowels in Vietnamese to inform meaning (see yesterday's entry), are not used as this iPad is ill-equipped and they wouldn't help most of you anyway), which is backpacker heaven in Saigon and chockers with twenty somethings from all over the world. Bedraggled and sporting our own kits, we looked like the two oldest backpackers alive. Although we drink little beer (nearly the only wine available in Saigon is Vietnamese, which isn't exported because no one would buy it) we stopped by a Circle K (there are Baskin Robbins and Starbucks as well) on the way back to Madame Cuc (Cook) Hotel for a couple of Saigons. It has three things going for it: it tastes pretty good, it's cold, it's cheap - a winner. After running hard for four days it was good to kick back and veg for a few before heading out to late dinner. Our knowledge of local wine comes from Jan's ill-advised order of Sauvignon Blanc. My tequila sunrise was better. We switched back to Saigons. Bed was uncharacteristically comfortable and we slept well until someone started banging a drum at O dark hundred, probably not celebrating the success of Marxist communism over the running dog capitalists.
Later
Except for forgetting to put a pocket knife in checked bag, flight on Vietnam Airline to Danang was uneventful. After losing a couple this way due having the memory of a three-year-old, had not forgotten for quite awhile until now. Security guy at scanner was much nicer than Aussie a few years ago and let me go back to check-in and send it on in a knapsack. Having originally thought to come with only carry-on backpacks, fortunately decided to bring one to check. Cost with Jetstar, the only airline that charges for that on this trip, was recouped in price of new Swiss Army knife.
Danang seems a much newer and cleaner city than HCMC and better maintained, but in a way that spoils the fun. Most restaurants, for example, have English speaking waiters and serve Western drinks, food and music. What's the point. Stay home, go to the corner pub and save your pennies so the kids can squander them after you're gone.
Tuesday
Took a taxi up to Chua Linh Ung Buddhist Temple overlooking Baie du Rocher Nor, River Han and the city to see it and a huge statue of Lady Buddha. If they weren't so set in their ways, she and Phuket's Big Buddha could get together and hatch a batch of baby Buddhas. Both Big B and Lady B are made of what looks like white marble. No idea how they're kept clean in a hot, humid, rainy climate. The number of man-hours to hand carve all the walls, doors, gates, statues and temples must have been phenomenal. Unlike every other Buddhist temple visited this one had no monkeys, but lots of dogs. Buddhists treat animals equally to humans, so probably don't eat them. Technically, however, this could also mean that neither are safe. For awhile self-emulation was real popular in the order - that can't be a good sign. Great views of Danang.
Having become enamored of Vietnamese coffee with condensed milk, hot, we stepped up the street while awaiting bus to Hoi An to find some plus mung bean cake and a croissant for Jan - she speaks French, you know. It was the Cong Caphe (not misspelled), a popular spot, where waiters dress in olive drab, Vietcong pajamas to serve you. They were smiling so it was OK.
Jack