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The day started off ok, same as Seattle, grey and hazy, not rainy grey, just hazy grey, fine distinction here. Important for a photographer as one or the other means loss of speed for exposures etc. I had gotten a good night sleep, and as I was supposed to meet up with my booking guy at 10:30am, I had time to run to the local store in lay a few goodies for the trip. I had thought a lot about what I might take in the way of extras regarding food etc. and as they were going to put on a pretty good feed I realized I wouldn’t need all that much nor did I wish to have to carry any more then I had to. I have to take a lot of equipment anyway: a large camera bag, a laptop to down load the compact flash memory, some clothes, …you get the idea, a load of ‘necessary’ junk. So at the store, I settled on a bottle of wine, merlot, white wine isn’t to my liking, and yea, I knew we’d be having fish etc, but I am a red wine guy. The wine was from France and set me back a whopping $10, which I was planning on drinking either before dinner or after. It seemed like a good idea, that’s the way we do boat trips in Seattle anyway. I also picked up some Vietnamese beef jerky, hot and spicy which I have taken a liking to, which is nothing like the American version, and 2 liters of water, just in case. I went to the public market and picked out a couple apples, oranges and one nice mango…had a good time with the lady bartering the price down, and eventually got my price. This meager food supply was to later prove to be a very fortuitous acquisition on my part.

Went back to the hotel, still had about an hour or so to kill, made sure all my batteries were charged, and went through all the necessary stuff I needed as it seems these days I am constantly leaving some crucial item one place or another. I debated a long time as to if I wanted to lug my tripod alone, but decided that I would be on board a smallish boat for the most part, and we all know that boats move, so a tri pod set up on the boat would also move as the boat did, so it just didn’t make any sense to take it and finally decided to leave it. With about an hour to spare, I decide to head out. I was staying in the Hon Gai section of Halong City, separated from the Bai Chay section by a small channel which you need to board a ferry and pay 2,000vnd to cross. They run constantly, but thought I better get across with plenty of time to spare. I loaded up my bike and was sitting on it, just about to take off when a moto bike taxi guy pointed out to me that my rear tire was just about flat….crap, ok, so I thought about it, and he pointed to a guy a 100 meter away and made the up and down motions of pumping, as in just putting some air into the tire, but I realized that I need to get the damn tire changed because if I didn’t then when I got back from the boat trip, my bike would have a flat and that wasn’t a good thing as it would be parked in a hotel parking lot far away from any repair facility. I remember that I had seen a Honda dealership about a kilometer up the road, checking the tire and seeing I had about an inch and half of left before I was on the rims, I decided to make a run for the dealership. Made it and then stood around while they change the tire and put in a new tube, clock ticking and had a ½ hour to make the ferry 4km away when I paid the bill, about $3. Something kept nagging at me as I sped away, but it’s always like that when I am rushing, a constant feeling like I forgot something important. On the way to ferry, some jerk was laying on his horn behind me, but like a good Vietnamese driver I paid no mind to it as barreled top speed towards the ferry and my rendezvous with my deluxe over night cruise of the fabled Halong Bay. Pulled up to the ferry, and instead of buying a ticket, I just headed straight away towards the ticket taker, who allows you in to the gated area where you wait for the ferry. I have taking to have the exact amount of the ferry charges folded in one hand, and by-passing the always crowded ticket sellers booth, and palming the cash directly into the gate keepers hand who them, slick as butter, deposit the money into some hidden pocket etc, thus supplementing their meager income. Doing my little bit to help out the little guy who at the end of the day must have a fist full of 2000vnd notes. Behind me I could still hear the guy blaring his horn, and once inside the enclosure I noted that I was getting an abnormal amount of attention, ….people were pointing at me and then motioning me to look behind me, so like an idiot I turned and looked, and at the gate, there stood one the Honda guys from the dealership, all grimy with grease smears, with a huge smile on his face and holding my laptop.

Ehhh, so that was the nag, remembering now that I had set it down while I watched my bike being fixed, …I pulled out a 50,000vnd note, and tucked it into the pocket of his overalls as I took the computer. That 50,000 note most likely represented 6 to 10% of his monthly wage, not bad for a 4km ride. Once again impressed with the honesty of the regular guys in Vietnam, and the pains they take to run me down to give me back things I have mislaid. Dodged a big bullet there I was thinking while riding the ferry across, it would have been a huge disaster to have lost my laptop.

I made my appointment on time and we arrived at the ‘tourist dock’ where the ‘cattle’ queued for the daily boat trips. Quite busy and very hectic and even more unorganized than I would have imagined, but this is what I learned. The order of importance of people involved with these tours is as follows:

1) Person representing those that own the boats:

Boat owners are seldom present, but their representatives are there and this is who my booking agent made his reservation with. Owners often own more then just one boat.

2) The tour guide:

Determined by some manner I am not familiar with, but the best I could understand is they come on the bus from Hanoi, where all the tours seem to originate, and once the boat is underway, they are the top dog. They are usually the only person on board who can speak both the language of the majority of passengers and Vietnamese thus they are the link between the boat crew and the tourists.

3) The boat captain:

Along with his crew, which numbered about 5 on our boat they do little except steer the boat, keep it afloat and do as they are instructed by the tour guide. They also prepare the food, at meal times.

4) The ‘cattle’:

Of which I was one and sometimes referred to as the paying customer, or tourist. We will see that not only are we the cattle, but we are all cows, and should not think we are bulls, as that position is reserved for the tour guide. If you are familiar with cows then you know the bulls are the dominant member of the bovine family. So kindly check your horns before you book one of these tours.

5) Booking agents:

In so far as the actual tour is concerned, they have absolutely no power, but they have an implied power as they are responsible for directing business to the first person on this list. So while they actually have no say regarding the tour, the owners are extremely careful to make sure their booking agents are kept happy, other wise they end up with empty boats.

I was the first to arrive, of my group and eventually was led to that boat I would be on, after an indeterminate wait on the dock which served no purpose other then to produce copious amounts of sweat as I and my booking agent stood around in the heat awaiting the number 1 person to come and take us to our my boat. We were suppose to leave at noon, sharp, and it was almost noon, and eventually I was led to the boat, along with my booking agent, who was determined to get me the cabin of choice, but when we got there, we were not allowed to get a cabin, as there was confusion as to the rest of guests, and if they would be splitting up into 1’s or 2’s thus requiring more single cabins or what ever. We stood around again for another 30 minutes or so and for what ever the reason, the other passengers never showed, so I was then led to another boat, where a repeat of the above happened all over again. By now, the copious amount of sweat had turned to rivers, and I was getting a bit cranky, and believe me, those who know me, know it’s not a walk in the park to be around me when I am in that state.

Normally I can handle just about any, and everything I come into contact with here in Vietnam without losing what little cool I possess, but all the while this was going on, the thought kept running through my mind is I ought to bail on this. It was now about 1pm, been jerking around on the dock, one boat or another and yet to be assigned either a boat or a cabin, and finally I turned to the booking agent and announced that I have had enough. If the heat wasn’t going to kill me, then there was a good chance the ocean of sweat I standing in was going to drown me. I demanded my passport back, at the moment being held by the #1 person, a sort of overweight narrow eyed Vietnamese woman, with a tight smile and fat butt. I announced I was bailing on the trip: breach of contract, boat suppose to leave at 12, now 1pm …I tried to say this in a stuffy British accent, but I was close to heat stroke so maybe it just sounded like a duck or something, but they got the message. This produced a flurry of barking Vietnamese exchanges between the #5 and #1 person, and then I allowed myself to be placated as I was led back to the original boat and given a cabin, which I took a cursory glance at as I deposited my items. All I wanted to do was to change into just my underwear and then find someplace cool, but I settled on shorts and a tee shirt, and as I changed I wondered which was going to blow its cork first, me or the wine.

Coming out of my deluxe oven of a cabin, I saw that other people had come aboard, all Asian, except for one westerner. Well so much for a boat load of Europeans, and in fact, so much for big group as we numbed in total, just 5, not counting the Vietnamese guide who had also come aboard and promptly disappeared. The passengers all introduced themselves: there was a young couple, Jason and Bianke from Korea; a young man of Japanese ancestry who was born in England and still resided there traveling with another Englishman who taught English in Bangkok. Sorry guys, I can’t remember your names. The boat rapidly departed soon there after. I went back into my cabin to get my camera, and as I passed through the dinning area the Korean couple and I struck up a conversation and they invited me to sit with them in a booth. We started to chat, as we did, activity started as the crew prepared the lunch. Shortly Captain Bligh appeared, no not the captain, but our tourist guide, and without so much as a hello, ‘ordered’ the five of us to come sit all together in one booth, to eat our lunch…..anyone that knows me knows that it is not a good idea to ‘order’ me to do anything, and especially not a good idea to do so when I’m a bit cranky, and a downright disaster to do so if I am both a bit cranky and hot and sweaty as a pig.

The idea of cramming 5 fairly large, hot, and sweaty people all together in a small booth didn’t go over well with any of us. Westerners do not like being forced to sit closely together with strangers when they dine, especially when said strangers are sweaty, sticky, and hot. The two English wished to eat alone, and said so. I was willing to eat with the Jason and Bianke in order to continue our conversation and we said we three would dine together. We told the guide to set two tables, one for 2 and one for 3, and much to my surprise, the guide refused, while again ordering us to come to booth 1 and eat.

I really wasn’t paying much attention to him prior to this, but hearing him, sounding more strident then when he first ordered us, I perked up and looked him over. Didn’t like what I saw….registering a guy having a bad day, and making no attempt to mask it. I can read the Vietnamese pretty well by now, and can generally tell by body language what sort of mood they are in, and this one was off the scale, for what ever the reason, but he had no business taking it out on us.

Dud….., tourist guide, number one rule in the west, neither Americans nor Englishmen take to being ordered about very well, in fact it is the worst way to get them to do something you wish. The Korean couple didn’t seem to take to it well either and we again refused to be ordered into the booth. We asked that two tables be set, one for 2, and one for 3, and were flatly told no. Captain Bligh announced in no uncertain terms that the tour could not be broken up. This didn’t make any sense to me at all and as the oldest, and the only American on board, and knowing the inflated view we Americans have of ourselves and our supposed rights as ‘guaranteed’ by virtue of being born American, I decided to tell this jerk that there was no way he was going to force us into sitting in one booth all together. I didn’t get 5 words out of my mouth before I was interrupted and told to go to the booth!! Not a good thing, and for the moment I was speechless. A damn fine start to my deluxe over night cruise of the fabled Halong Bay, now being witnessed by not just the 4 other passengers, but by the boat captain and the entire crew who had crowded into the dinning cabin to watch the confrontation.

The Vietnamese while hating to be in the center of a confrontation, like nothing better to be able to get in close and watch while people make fools of themselves, and I suspect, they were not disappointed with this one. Finding myself rapidly being backed into a corner of which there was no graceful return from, I was hating it. Our guide must have felt the same, but tough titty said the kitty, I didn’t start this mess. Every once in a while I would glance over at the captain and smile at him, which just seem to infuriate the guide even more, but it was important to me that even though I was having a confrontation with the guide, to show the captain that I had no problem with he or the crew. Ultimately once the guide got tired of repeatedly ordering me, and the other 4 to go sit in the booth and ‘enjoy fine lunch’, who were standing by waiting to see the outcome of this little mutiny, he then said he wanted to talk with me outside. Sure, I said, let’s go outside, and, maybe, one of us could throw the other overboard.

So outside we went, and he just started in again, same old blah, blah, blah……I waited him out till he finally ran down then I told him to either set 2 tables, or take me back to the docks, which were only ½ a mile so behind us. His turn to be speechless, but finally he managed that he would ‘allow’ me to eat alone, but that he wouldn’t separate the rest of the tour. I told him not good enough, and on it went, until finally I just had enough, I wouldn’t eat lunch. Wouldn’t bother me all that much, there has been many times in Vietnam for one reason or another I haven’t eaten and just wasn’t that big a deal. And that is how it finally ended, the other 4 ate together, and I just went outside and took pictures…….on an empty stomach…..so much for principle.

Later I asked for his name, and what company he worked for; he gave me a name and a company which proved to be false, as I knew it would, but I got his picture and I have friends in Hanoi who should be able to identify him eventually.

A fine start for my deluxe cruise of Halong Bay.

THE BOAT, ACCOMODATIONS, AND THE FOOD

The boat didn’t sink, that’s the good part. The bed I slept in was clean and comfortable enough, and the fan worked. The air conditioning unit in my room didn’t work; the shower was a joke, just enough running water to rinse off the salt grime when they allowed the water to be turned on. The door locked to provide security for my possessions, and the sheets appeared clean, though the towels smelled a bit moldy to me. But hey, better moldy then what one of the other guests found when it came time to use her towels. We had stopped at Cat Ba Island and picked up 11 other passengers. The young Israeli couple found when they were going to use their towels a clump of very fresh rat turds deposited by a recent visitor and when shown to the tour guide, he tried to say that they were bird poop. I happened to be present when they brought the towels up. And though I am no rocket expert I know the difference between rat turds and bird poop: conclusion was they were rat turds. This so upset the young lady that she could barely bring herself to enter her room to sleep at night, and when I went to bed late, 12am, her companion was still trying to get her to sleep in the cabin as opposed to sleeping in a chair on the top deck. Speaking of chairs, there were four functional chaise lounge type of chairs, one totally busted up ‘use to be’ chaise lounge type of chair, and three little seven inch stools that the Vietnamese are quite fond of; not bad for a passenger list of 16 people on a deluxe cruise.

The food was situation was classic, so damn inadequate it was comic. As we prepared to anchor for the night, the tour guide came into the main cabin where most of the passengers were congregated and announced that we would be stopping by the floating pens, these pens holding various assortments of sea food and if we wished to ’supplement’ our dinner with more, or, different items, then we could purchase them at our own expense which the cook would cook for us. At this time, the guide and I had reached an uneasy truce; we were just ignoring each other….and it worked. But as I sat at the table with the 2 Englishmen, Jason and Bianke, and a young lady from the Netherlands sharing the bottle of wine I had brought onboard and kicking myself that I hadn’t brought a couple more, I heard two key words in his announcement.

The words, ’supplement’, and ‘more’, and immediately I thought to myself: why he was telling us this? I was looking forward to dinner, for obvious reasons, but I have been around Vietnamese long enough to understand that they don’t say things without a reason, and what I actually heard was that we better buy more food. I asked the group if they all wanted to eat together and they said yes, and I suggested it might be a good idea to take a look and maybe buy some things and have a really nice dinner. This was met with blank looks, as all were expecting a nice dinner anyway, but I said that it might be a good idea, to do this, other wise why would they even be making this stop. So after kicking it around for a few minutes, our group agreed to try and buy a couple kilograms of prawns and crabs, if the price was right. The boat pulled up to the pens and it fell upon me to negotiate a price ….they wanted $15 a kilo for the prawns, same for the crabs. I knew the price in Halong Bay for both items, about $10. I offered$ 7, of course it was refused, we negotiated a bit more, but the lady held firm on $15, and finally I said no and was about to re-board the boat when she came down to 14, I went to $10 and she sold at $11, but am sure we only got 800 grams each as opposed to the 1000 grams we were supposed to be getting. Ok, so we were the only ones to buy any food, and I think the rest of the passengers thought our table was nuts, but then we were the only ones drinking wine, and the only table with an old American guy who had a lot of experience with Vietnamese nuance.

Dinner time came, and we bought 2 more bottles of wine from the ship, price was reasonable, $11 a bottle, quality was dubious, but what the hell, it was drinkable. I think our table was about the only table that wasn’t out and out ‘backpackers’, but not certain, but in any event, our over all expense was being divided 6 ways so it mattered little to us in the end. By the time dinner was brought, we were having a good time; alcohol always helps in that regard and I didn’t take notice of the food as in the quantity, as our table had more than enough with the addition of 4 pounds of crabs and prawns and 3 bottles of wine. We were sitting in the next to last booth, and sat facing the other two booths, and I took little notice that the other occupants kept glancing over at us, just assuming we were having a little too good of time….but hey, alcohol helps. It was only later when the big young guy from Michigan came to our table and asked if he could have one of our prawns that I perked up. And as dinner was ending I noticed him going to the captains table directly behind our table and overheard him asking if he could have their left over food they that I then thought about the dinner.

Later on the top deck, it was determined that the other tables had had very little food, one small fish, about a pound or so, a plate of factory French fries, some rice, one plate of spinach type vegetable, and a couple over fried spring rolls cut into 6 portions. Anything you wanted to drink and didn’t bring was extra; very inadequate after an afternoon of swimming and kayaking. Our table had gotten the same amount of food, but with the addition of what we had bought, and the wine, we had had a merry feast, much to envy of the others. When the others asked the guide why there wasn’t more food, he retorted that he had made the announcement that if they had wanted extra food, then they should have bought some, as we had. What the hell can you say to that response!!!! There was a hell of a lot of grumbling on the top deck that night.

Morning came and after a long wait, the call to breakfast was made. With anticipation for a good breakfast, you can imagine the shock that rocked the dinning cabin when it was discovered that breakfast would consist of about 14 slices of a ‘wonder’ type white bread, with 6 slices of an orange, about an ½ ounce of a terrible strawberry jam, and about a ½ cup each of insipid coffee for every table.

It was so terrible, that the group was in utter disbelief which disintegrated to out and out ‘ridiculing’ laughter and anger at the way we were being treated. I went and got my camera, photographed the breakfast at our table, amidst cheers, and then went and photographed the remains of the crews and guides breakfast: big bowls of noodle soup.

I asked the captain for some of his soup, and he was actually going to give me some when the guide told him not to. Jason and Bianke had gotten up, and had went to asked for some boiling water and had retreated to their cabin, and then proceeded to miraculously produce some kim chee, and enough instant noodle soup to feed our table and the table with the big American with something hot.

Well hell I could go on, but what’s the point.

Ok, so what about the good parts of my trip?

Well the bay is visually outstanding. And I did get some great pictures. But the best part of my trip was the profound kindness shown to me by Jason and Bianke, who actually were, more or less, on their honeymoon. I did get a major refund on my trip from the booking agent at the Saigon-Halong hotel when I arrived back, so the amount I paid was about $38. I did get a funny story out it all, but this trip reinforced my resolve to avoid, no matter what the cost, all tours. I finally spent some time up close and personal with a group of people who take these sorts of tours. I finally saw Halong Bay, but from a photographer’s point of view, while I did get some very good images, it was as I imagined, and extremely inadequate as opposed to how I might have organized such a trip. The only other choices are to book a boat alone, which is cost prohibited, attempt to break through the government monopoly on hiring a boat yourself outside of normal channels, or endure one sort or another variation on the type of tour I was on.

I called my old friend back in Hanoi, Tuan, a long time tour guide, and we talked about my experiences. He asked me not to put this story on my site, as it would destroy the Halong Bay business, and I tried to explain that my one little trip, nor my one little site could accomplish that. But as I stated earlier in this posting, the Vietnamese are horribly afraid of bad publicity, and fear anything that gets out to the world that criticizes the way things are here. Tuan told me that my trip was just a result of a bad boat etc, and exception, and maybe that is true or maybe not,….but ultimately if I were going to take this trip again, regardless of how much or how little I might spend I would follow these guide lines.

1) I would demand to know exactly what I could expect in the way of accommodations, food and activities for the amount I was paying.

2) I would bring 2 bottles of wine at least, knowing you can usually buy some on board, but I would buy in advance in order to get quality I wanted. And I would bring wine as there is just something nice about wine and boating.

3) I would bring some additional food with me: salt water, activities and the general ambiance of fresh air just increases the appetite. While major food requirements might be taken care of, and true no one will starve on an over night trip, having snack food is a plus. Remember though, that you will be meeting new friends and most likely be inclined to share the items you might bring.

4) I would bring an ample supply of fresh water to drink, as it doesn’t appear that water is ever included for free, and it’s nice to make sure you have all you wish.

5) Very little in the way of clothing is needed, beyond shorts, tee-shirts, and bathing suits.

6) If I was spending a lot of money, and anything over $30 is considered a lot, I would make sure I had recourse for a refund if things did not meet what I had been promised.

7) As my friend Tuan suggested, I would book from a big tour operator, with much experience, and I would expect to pay about $75 dollars or so for a deluxe overnight trip originating in Hanoi.

7) And last, at the beginning of the trip, I would get both the name of the guide and the tour agency he worked for, while I was still on very good terms, this is important. A guide can lose his job over a disastrous trip, hence having this information, and he knowing you has it, will make him work harder to make things go right. If things go south, it is impossible to get this information, as he knows what will happen if he gives it out.

Halong Bay is a beautiful place, and if you like rocks in the water landscapes, and slow boat experiences, you will like it. But there are other places in Vietnam with these sorts of rock formations; just not in the water, and they are as beautiful and stunning as the water versions, and far less crowds converge there to appreciate them. One such place is in the Cao Bang Province, a rather remote northern province, well worth a trip to see, and one of the most beautiful provinces of Vietnam.

And that’s the story of my one, only and most likely last, official guided tour in Vietnam.

PART 1: BOOKING THE TOUR

I arrived in Halong about a week ago, and finally decided the only way I was going to see the bay was to book a tour on one of the boats. There are a lot of ways to book a tour to see Halong Bay, such as just walking up to the tourist boat wharf, in the center of town, but few people drive on their own to Halong Bay so it’s not the normal way I suspect. I think that 95% of all the tours are booked out of Hanoi which will include bus transportation, meals, and guide etc. But I was already in Halong City, so I tried to figure out what I thought would be the best way to see the bay and have a good time. This would be my very first official guided tour taken in Vietnam which was the reason I have waited so long to see the fabled Halong Bay. There doesn’t seen to be anything I hate more then to ‘imagine’ taking one of these guided tours I see buzzing all around Vietnam every which way I turn, and as anyone knows who reads what I write, I hold them pretty much in high disdain. I have had ample opportunity to study and observe the participants while they are on tours, such as through bus windows, such as when they all file out upon arriving somewhere I am at, or when they are disembarking to go eat at some restaurant I might be at. Time and time again, I am amazed at these ‘walking dead’, seemingly devoid of any readable emotion other then what can only be interpreted as boredom, irritation, and in some cases down right anger. These tours, no matter how they are planned out, do not allow the participants to interact on any meaningful level with anything that remotely resembles a normal Vietnamese. Anyway, if you read my postings, you know my attitude regarding tours, so it was with great trepidation that I set out to figure out how to both book a ‘good’ tour, and at the same time allow me some recourse if the tour was an out and out bust.

Thinking on this for long time, I finally decided to do as I might if I were in America, and instead of going for the cheapest thing I could find, I decided to go try and book via the most expensive way I could find, figuring that money talks. At the very best I would have an outstanding trip, and at the very least, I would be dealing with reputable people who had something to lose if trip was a bust. By trying to book the cheapest trip around, there would be little wiggle room for any complaints so I drove up to one of the biggest and ritziest hotels here in Halong City, named the Saigon Halong Hotel. It is a big place, with rooms costing $150 a night. This is the kind of place where you are greeted at the door and are never allowed to do a thing for yourself, always someone there to cater to almost every whim.

I had cleaned my self up a bit for this encounter, as best I could with my wrinkled clothing and had put my biggest lens on my camera, and all the little accessories that make my camera even more impressive in this day of the little point and shoot. When fully equipped, it’s an imposing hunk of black, well machine technology that never fails to impress the local people. Not sure what they really think, but reactions convey to me a sense of awe regarding it. The fact that it weighs a ton when I have it all decked out is a plus because I often let the locals hold it and the way they reverently fondle it I know what they are thinking. Its weight is a plus on these occasions, and lend more status to me. As I approached the desk assigned for tours, set off to one side of the lobby, I saw that I had done the right thing; the gentleman there couldn’t take his eyes off my camera. I casually set it on his desk as I lowered my self into the chair offered and introduced myself. The impression I was trying to give was that I was ‘a somebody’, and that I more or less expected him to know my name, and if he didn’t he should. So far so good, as I could see from his manner that I had achieved my goal.

I then explained I was a photographer, doing research was now covering the northeast sector of Vietnam, photographing and writing of my experiences. This is always a plus as no one in Vietnam wants any adverse publicity and I understood it was not just the bad press he had to fear, it would also be the wrath of his bosses if on his watch anything went wrong. Before I asked him what was offered for touring Halong Bay, I launched into what I expected. I told him I wanted to tour the bay for approximately 5 days, small size boat, but with comfortable accommodations, tour guide not necessary, as I wasn’t interested in anything other then an over view of mood shots of the bay. A safe boat with a knowledgeable captain, and experienced crew was about all I desired. I expected a discount for a long booking, but was willing to pay a fair price. I explained I really didn’t want to haggle over the price but that I had been touring Vietnam for some years now, and that as this was the last area of Vietnam I haven’t yet seen, I did not expect to be treated as a tourist with little knowledge of the ‘Vietnamese Way’. Of course I knew that this sort of tour was impossible. It was not offered in any form, and would be almost impossible to arrange, as the tourist trade here in Halong is tightly controlled with one restriction after another, and that creativity is not the clunky bureaucratic laden tourism industry’s long suit.

So far so good, once I finished with what I both wanted and expected, it took him a few minutes to gather his thoughts and he then explained to me that he could not arrange a 5 day trip, as I knew he wouldn’t be able to, so then I asked for a thee day trip, and he said a 2 days could be arranged. I said no, I needed at least 3 days, and I asked him to call around and see if he could arrange 3 days, and if he couldn’t I’d mosey over to the Hilton and see if they could. A number of calls were made and in the end, he informed me that 3 days were not possible, I knew this already but I had time to kill so while he had been on the phone for a half hour or so, I had ordered a beer, and offered him one but he told me he couldn’t drink on duty. Two days were ok with me, 3 would have been nice, but I expected only 2 days.

We then set about determining the price,….he told me it would cost $95 dollars, and, as I more or less expected some outrageous number I wasn’t shocked. I told him that was way out of line, that I could, if had desired, booked this trip out of Hanoi and could have done a 2 day trip for in the mid thirties on any given day, and that had if I really felt like finding a bargain I think that I could have found a booking in the high 20’s. Remember, I was booking this in at the Ritz! He started talking of quality, and first class accommodations and all the yah yahs. Ok, ok I said, just tell me what exactly I would be getting for my money. He talked of quality of service, excellent food, activities such as fishing, visiting caves, knowledgeable guides, blah blah blah. I then asked him what sort of passengers I could expect to be with, …and I would like to be the only man on a cruise with a boat load of young beauties, ranging in ages from 24 or so to 35 who I could then used for background in my photos. He actually considered this for some moments until he realized from the smile on my face that I was just joking. He made a phone call, 5 or 10 minutes passes, and then tells me that I will be sharing a boat with about 12 or so Europeans. Ok with me I guessed.

It was now time to get down to the nitty gritty, and then I asked him what everyone else on the boat would paying, and he tells me that we would all be paying the same price, …..I asked him if he was sure, and he replied that this was a very high quality boat, very best in accommodations, and it would be a luxury cruise….I gave him a long hard look, and said that if he said so, then ok, but if I went on board ship and I later found that the other passengers had paid some ridiculously low price for exactly what I would be getting then I wouldn’t be a happy camper. Took a few minutes to explain what ‘happy camper’ meant. He finally understood, and explained that if the others had paid less than me, then he would give me back ’some’ money. I asked exactly what ’some’ meant, and after a long go around I had to settle for the vague ’some’. I could live with that.

We then talked about what I did, why I was there and how long etc, told him I visited places, checked them out, photographed them and then wrote essentially a review of them, so that other westerners could come to my site for recommendations. A very nervous topic for him!!!

We talked about him and his history, and his family: married, with a very young daughter, and about 28 if I remember right. He had a interesting history, his English was extremely good, classroom style, and had been educated in the Hong Kong refugee camps where as a young child his family landed when his father took them and made a desperate attempt to flee this country for a ‘better’ life. He remained in the camps for countless years until one day the police came and shut the camps down and sent he and his family back to Hanoi via air plane, he was then 17. This was followed some years of constant attention from the police, as his fathers actions had resulted in blight on his personal records. He is currently making about $90 a month as the supervisor of the tourist desk, what ever that means, but looks good in his suit. His wife works in another hotel, and makes about $70 a month. Every month he has to attend a meeting at the hotel, if his record for the month is spotless, meaning no complaints or infractions or he didn’t forget to cross all the ‘t’s’ and dot the ‘i’s’ he is given an ‘a’ rating. This is important. But if there were a few minor infractions, or complaints, his rating slipped to a ‘b’ rating, and if there was anything considered major, and, from talking to him, it wasn’t hard to understand that it didn’t take much to move to the major category, then he was given a ‘c’ rating for the month.

This is all important because if he received an ‘a’, he would be given 100% of his salary. If he slipped to a ‘b’ rating, he would only get 90%, and god forbid, if he dropped to a ‘c’, then only 70%. I asked that if he had a complaint, couldn’t he go to his boss to ask for help and to explain, and he told me that taking a problem to his boss was considered an infraction, that his orders were to solve all problems that might arise, and if he couldn’t, then his rating would drop. Interesting I thought, thinking how this sort of policy would go over in the west.

So negotiations over I forked over the money, after going over, once more the details of what I could expect, and his word that it would be a high quality tour. Time to leave, I asked for the bill on the beer, expecting to pay the steep price of a $1.60 as the restaurant menu had it listed, only to be presented with a bill of $2 for a 75 cent beer. It was then explained to me that if the beer had actually come to me from the restaurant, I would have only had to pay $1.60, the restaurant being right next to the desk, but that they had went to the bar, about a mile away to get it, which is about how large the lobby is. Not my fault I said, why they didn’t they just go into the restaurant to get it, the waitress replied that I hadn’t specified to her from where she was to get the beer, and her orders were that if unspecified, then she was to get drinks from the bar. Her face told me all I needed to know, as she appeared to sympathize with me, but was powerless to do anything about it. As you could imagine, that went over really well with me, but what the hell, I am in the ‘tourist corridor’, and what should I expect other then this sort of rip off behavior so I just muttered and paid the damn bill.

I was impressed with the gent at the desk, and resolve that if everything worked out as promised then I’d invite him and his wife out to dinner when I got back to Halong City. We made arrangements to meet the next morning and he would take me to the boat and make sure I got a good cabin, and help me get settled in, …nice I thought, makes my life easy. We exchanged phone numbers, said goodbyes and shook hands, only 3 hours to accomplish all this, not bad I thought as I headed out to find my bike.

Side note: asking him about his pay, as is my habit I asked what the boss of the hotel made, he explained that he once saw a salary list, and that the manger of the place was making about $900usd a month, but he added that this was just considered side money. The boss made much more by taking a commission on every thing bought by the hotel, which was where the boss made his real money. Translates out to if a new chair is needed for the hotel, the hotel is billed for, say, $150, actual cost is $100, the other $50 goes into the boss’s pocket. If you wanted the hotel to sell tiger beer, then the distributor had to pay ‘compensation’ on the side to the boss…just the way things works here in Viet land.

YOUNG GIRLS:

It finally dawned on me the other day, that day after day, trip after trip, one of the reasons you see so many young women, 20 to 27 in the workplace is managers will rarely hire anyone who isn’t young and beautiful, or at least attractive. I was talking about this the other day with some ladies, both under 30 and over 30, the consensus is exactly that. Thinking back to all my visits here, that’s just about the way it is. If you are past 27, you can pretty much forget about getting a job in any of the service industries here. That translates out to waitress, hotel staff that is visible to the public, supermarket workers, big store staff, just about any work where you will be interacting with the public, esp. the tourist sector. I searched my memory to think of places I have seen older women working in numbers, where age doesn’t seem to be a hindrance or an advantage, and the about the only place I could come up with are the banks and the post office. I see older women running the stalls in the market places, I see older women running little storefront one person food operations, as well as the numerous little one room type stores that are in abundance, all scratching out a living. Also I see older women running those little fruit and vegetable stands on the street, but walk into any store selling to the public as in the clothing sector, electronics, and virtually any sort of store that isn’t just a one man operation, and you will seldom find any one over the age of 27.

So I asked where all the women are over 30, and the consensus I got was that they worked in the factories, or they were home with babies, or they were working behind the scenes, such as cleaning women, cooks who you didn’t see, etc. Married and staying home, well, maybe as women do get married right about 25 or so, and children soon there after, and usually it seems, if asked, they want 2, in quick succession, so I guess it is possible that they are all home taking care of kids, but doubt it. I haven’t been in any factories, so I don’t know about that. But when I drive around, and I do a lot of that, at all hours, it’s not the older women I see dressed stylishly as if they were off to multinational companies, it all the young girls and guys. Thinking about this, I recall that I see a lot of older women working on construction sites, working hard too, I see them cleaning streets, garbage pickup etc….

And if you are young, and not damn attractive, then you can forget about getting a good job. Managers and bosses just will not hire you unless you are some sort of relative, or daughter of the local mafia types. There isn’t any such thing here in Vietnam as equal opportunity, non discrimination etc, and if you are what is called a minority person here in Vietnam, you can forget about any sort of work that isn’t hard and manual. You will not get hired; at least not anywhere I have ever been in any city I have visited. I cannot recall ever seeing any minority persons working in any sort of ‘in the public’ jobs.

The thing is, I was just thinking the other day, why the big deal about all the pretty Vietnamese women, and it dawned on me, that even though I see what can maybe be called unattractive women, at least those not fitting the public’s perception of beauty, I never see them working any where I might come in contact with them. So, it’s always the beauties you meet…cause that all you have the opportunity to meet for the most part. …….feeling damn smug for figuring this out!! And further more, for all those who wrote me regarding that post: A DAMN GOOD QUESTION etc. It’s a natural fact, that if you leave all the candy out, sooner or later no matter who you are, or how hard you are trying to abstain from not sampling it, eventually you will reach over pop a morsel into your mouth,…..that is if you have any sort of a sweet tooth. Just a fact of life.

MOTO BIKES:

Doesn’t matter how good a bike you got, long hours on it will always result in a pain in the butt. Another, just a fact of life!!!

ORDERING FOOD:

Best to decide all you want to eat, and then in the order you wish it to come, then order it in just that manner, with lag time, because if you order say, 3 or 4 items all at once, you might get the vegetables first, 10 minutes later, your beer will come, 5 minutes after that maybe the thing you wanted first on the table comes, and when it’s all said and done, and after all the food has been eaten, your rice will come. There is little conception on bringing all the food at once, or bringing items that go together, such as rice and an entrée. And though it sometimes helps to attempt to specify in what order you wish the food to come, you cannot count on it happening in that order. So I have learned to order things one by one, and it generally works out well….though the waitresses are flummoxed by this, as they want to hurry up and get the whole order at one time.

WAITERS, WAITERESSES, SMALL STORE STAFF, ETC:

All I can say about them is they hover, hover, hover…..if you are not into constant attention: do not come to Vietnam. Just doesn’t work that way here. Remember, in almost any public place, the wait people will outnumber you by at least 3 to 1!!!!

MOTO BIKE CHECK STUBS:

When you pull up to almost any sort of facility such as a store, or a restaurant, or almost anyplace and you dismount from your bike, you will be handed a little scrap of paper, often the consistency of tissue paper, with a number scribbled on it that corresponds to the number they chalked on you moto bike seat…..lose that stub, and it’s an arduous endeavor to get them to release your bike to you.

MOTOBIKE CHALKING:

It just slays me, the way some people will spend a ton of money on a nice bike, looks great till you check out the seat, a million chalk scribble residues left on the seat, hard to remove the writing, and after awhile, looks like a worn out blackboard. Cheap to have the seat recovered, but what’s the point, no matter where you go, they will just apply the chalk.

HOTEL TOWELS:

This really gets me, doesn’t seem to matter what hotel you check into, or what nationality you are, the towels that are supplied to you rarely measure more then about 12inches by 24, and they are so thread bare that you can often see through them. Sure they are clean, but I guarantee you, you got to really work at getting dry. I would just love to have a small camera in the bathroom of these really hefty westerners that often travel here in Vietnam; I think it would make a hilarious candid camera episode.

LITTLE SHOWER HEADS NEXT TO THE TOLIET:

Those little shower heads on a 3 or 4 foot hose mounted next to the toilet are not for taking a shower, they are used for washing…..aw come on, you know what they are for, don’t make me say it. And damn handy, compared to the sandpaper that passes for toilet paper here.

TRAFFIC POLICE MONTHLY PAY:

Have talked with a lot of police guys, monthly salary translates out to about $100usd a month…come on, any wonder as to why they have to rely on ‘bribes’ to make ends meet. It is just damn impossible to live on that little a month, so, seems if you want the police to be corruption free, then pay them a salary that they can live on. Another of those simple facts of life.

TEACHERS PAY:

I was talking to the head master at a secondary school here, about 500 students; up to about 15 years of age etc…..his pay is $85 a month. Teachers make about that also, at least the ones I talk to, and again, how do they expect to attract competent people on those sorts of salaries….doesn’t seem to bother anyone other then the teachers.

HEMORRHOIDS:

Best advice I can give you if you suffer from them is to bypass Vietnam. Guarantee you that they will only get worst on your trip here. Though I am not an expert on the subject, it seems to me that the lack of any sort of comfortable seating here would just about aggravate even the mildest case of them. And I suspect many tourists come here with out them, only to discover that upon departure, they now have a problem.

TRASH AND RUBBISH:

Sad subject, such a beautiful country, and such a complete disregard for the environment, as I travel about, it just breaks my heart to see the trash everywhere, and even if you wanted to deposit it in a trash container, they are almost non existence. The plastic bags, they seem to be everywhere, in the rivers, the lakes, on the roadsides, sometimes it is all I can see. There doesn’t seem to me to be any sort of public policy regarding these things, and little in the way of education as to their effects on the quality of life.

RIVERS AND LAKES:

I have a policy here; I won’t eat any fish or marine life from lakes or rivers. Fish and products from the sea I will eat, but I am very careful regarding this. I have traveled this country extensively, and I am well aware of what is dumped into the rivers and the lakes. And this is just from what I can see; I can just imagine what is going in that I cannot see. They have to be some of the foulest bodies of water I have ever seen, and I love water, even being a water sign, so it is near and dear to my heart. But I draw the line here in Vietnam. As Vietnam vet, if it wasn’t enough that I knew about the amount of dioxins we dumped here, what I see as I travel sure has made me a die hard activist regarding fresh water products. I have adopted a simple formula, regarding eating fish etc from fresh water: if I wouldn’t bath in it, swim in it or just jump in ever once in a while to cool off, well you can bet your last dollar, I will not knowingly put anything that lives there in my mouth. I would just love to see some sort of true scientific testing going on here as to mercury, dioxin, and heavy metals content of the fresh water fish, not to mention all the other parasitic crap growing in them.

SIDEWALKS:

A liability lawyer’s paradise, if it were possible to sue. For all those adventure type tourist paying out the big bucks for those adventure tours, if you really want a thrill, try walking a couple kilometers here with you eyes not glued to what passes as public sidewalks. I don’t care what city I find my self in, they just don’t have a clue as to what it takes to make a sidewalk. I don’t know whose responsibility it is, but they are such a terrible cobbled out mess that it is a damn workout, not to say how dangerous they can be to walk on. There is no continuity, that is to say, they undulate with abrupt rises and falls, easy to stumble, and easier still to stub your toes. Sometimes I sit and watch the ladies in their high heels pick their way, but again even that is a rarity as few people seem to walk much here, and when they do, it seems they do so more in the streets then on the sidewalks clogged with parked moto bikes and every other obstacle you could imagine.

TOUCHING IN PUBLIC:

Men touch men, women touch women, and rare is the sight where opposite sexes touch each other in public. You really want to get a reaction, just try and hug an opposite sex friend in public, or in private for that matter!!! And if you do, watch out for those killer iron maiden bras, they can do some real damage.

That’s enough for tonight, will take an hour to get this up loaded via dial up here in Halong Bay, and besides, got to get my gear all sorted……I am going to go do the tourist thing tomorrow, and spend a night on a boat…out in the bay with some other tourists,….nope don’t know who, just was told they are European tourists, ….but I did go out and find a nice bottle of wine that I will take on board with me and, hopefully, sit there after dinner sipping and a dreaming…….so a couple days from now, look for a report on traveling for a day with the Europeans!!!

This is my first long haul on my bike since I came back, and like the title says, how easy it is to forget how much I hate moving day. Loading up my bike with every thing and pushing on to a new city, feel like a turtle or something, but always stressful for me as it usually entails a long time driving with no mistakes, hyper alert to any misfortune that might befall me on these unpredictable roads, and for some reason or another, I feel really exposed. I rarely will take any pictures on moving day, just want to get from one point to another, with little delay, drop off all my junk and then cruise around the neighborhood. And it’s always a damn grind on the butt, I don’t know, never owned a Harley, maybe it’s always like that on a bike.

This area of Vietnam isn’t my favorite, or at least hasn’t been in the past, though this is my first visit to Halong City. I have been to Hai Phong, and it is definitely not on my favorite list of cities I want to visit. Don’t really know what the problem is, but what ever it is, I have never felt comfortable in Hai Phong, I have talked with my Vietnamese friends about this and they often say to me that people from Hai Phong are different from the rest of Vietnam. To me it seems they are the least friendly of any, and all, places I have visited, but having been there only twice, maybe I just never fell into the right crowd. As to what my friends say about Hai Phong, and its people, well they also say that about every other place, so I generally take their opinions with a grain of salt. I mean the people in the north always ask me what I think of the people in the south, and they always want me to say they are not as friendly as the people in the north, nor are they as trust worth, and my friends in the south ask me the same thing about the north, and wish for me to say exactly the same thing. As to which are friendlier, or most trustworthy, I got no problem saying they are essentially the same. The biggest difference between the people of the north and the south is that the south tends to be definitely more progressive and liberal in their lifestyles and attitudes. People in the north are for the most part, according to my experiences, much more conservative about things, but this doesn’t make them less friendly, just more steeped in traditional behavior.

Anyway, I made a quick beeline past Hai Phong, twice is already one time too many for me to waste any more time there, and I headed for Cam Pha which is 45km up the road from Halong City. I had looked through an old lonely planet book I had and they had given just about as much bad press to the Halong City area as I have ever read in their guide books, so I figured I would shoot on past because of all the tourist crap, and as the guide book said, the Halong Bay scenic stuff extended all the way to the China border. Well they were right in some respects and wrong in others. Right about tourist stuff, and maybe wrong about seeing the limestone monoliths up the road from Halong Bay. Well maybe if you are in a boat you can see much of the same stuff, but at least as far as Cam Pha, you don’t see squat from the road. And once I got into to Cam Pha, it wasn’t anyplace I wanted to stay, not even for a night. Once past Halong City, the road to Cam Pha turned out to be the dankest dirtiest place I had ever been to in Vietnam, I was sort of expecting it, as the guide book talked of coal mining along the corridor between Mong Cai and Halong, but it didn’t prepare me for just how bad it really is. I was wearing a white shirt on the drive here, and it got positively grey, thank god I was wearing my nice Arai helmet, which protected my face from the dust swirling along the road, but everything else took a grimy beating as far as dirt was concerned.

So I doubled back to the Hon Gai section of Halong City and it took me a while to find a hotel as they are few and far between on this side of the bay. I can generally tell how many tourist white guy types a placed has seen from the amount of attention I get when I finally shuck all my junk and tool around the neighborhoods, and from the amount I got, I figure this side of the bay sees few and far between. This was after I had checked in, took a bath, nap, and was feeling somewhat refreshed, other then residue butt ache which a good massage would have helped. Now it was time to find a restaurant. I just wasn’t in the mood to sit on the sidewalk and make like the regulars tonight, not only was I tired, but I just wasn’t in the mood to be ogled as is usually the case, so I went out searching for a sit down kind of place. Almost always I can find a couple of these, but no such luck here in Hon Gai tonight, until I happened upon this monstrosity of a resturant, about 2km from the ferry landing, which is, honestly, called the ‘Jumbo Floating Restaurant’, with a name like that, what the hell can you expect.

As I had struck out locating any other sit down place, I pulled out my cell phone, yea I broke down and bought one over here, and called my hot shot sales manager friend, Nghia, down in Saigon, who had assured me that no matter what city I might find myself in he would be able to recommend me a good place to eat dinner, and, or a cheap hotel. He works for a multinational company as they are called here, and has contacts all over the country. Well I caught him in a sales meeting, and he said he’d get back to me, as soon as possible. By the way, my number is ‘0906 075365′ for anybody wanting to call me for an on the spot report.

Ok so there I sat on my bike looking at this ‘thing’ floating in the water, sure looked like a jumbo, for those in Seattle, if you ever had been to the Emerald Queen Casino down in Tacoma, you can get a idea of what this thing looked like, just tone it down a couple hundred degrees. A triple-decker it appeared to me to be, and I could see the entire first deck lighted up with tables covered with white linens, looked like a spiffy joint, as far as spiffy joints are concerned here in Viet land. But there was only one problem, I could see the entire first deck, all the tables, but there wasn’t anyone eating there, the place sitting empty except for the wait people. I have this rule about eating here in Viet land, and it is that I won’t eat anywhere I don’t see other people eating, the more the better. So there I sat on my bike, just hanging out, and trying to decide, and wondering what the hell I was doing here in the first place…..my thoughts always turn this way when I am a bit frustrated with things.

I hadn’t eaten a damn thing the whole day, travel days are like that for me, long hauls on my bike, generally in unfamiliar territory and suspect food places. I been traveling here for 6 years or so, and not once have I ever been sick as a result of eating bad food, so what ever I have been doing has been working out pretty damn good for me, but I was hungry and ready to eat and have a couple Tiger beers. But here I was, in a quandary, this place looked like it cost a fortune, and looked like it might put out a decent meal, but, ….but no body eating there, and then I wasn’t sure if I wanted to spend what it might cost anyway, and to top it off, there were indications that it served Chinese food, just sort of looked the way a place that served Chinese meals might look, and I am not a fan of Chinese food as a rule. So sitting there thinking, trying to remember if I had seen any other restaurants along the way, and drawing a blank, my mind again turned to why I had crossed the bay, instead of hunkering down on the other side where all the other tourists were, and where I could no doubt get the normal offerings…..I remembered getting close to Halong City, and knew there would be a ferry crossing involved, and realized I would have to find the damn landing, always a bit of an adventure, trying to locate a ferry landing. And I remembered I had finally, as we pulled pretty close to Halong City, just fell in behind one of those kamikaze bus drivers, which just happened to have the name Cam Pha on its little reader board and emblazoned across the back of the bus so I knew he knew the way. He barreled through the city as I followed close at hand, sucking down copious amounts of black diesel smoke as he led me straight away to the ferry landing. Well, ok, so that’s how I got here I was thinking when the my cell rang, Nghia calling me back, after I laid out my problem to him, asking him if he knew of a place to eat, he said sure, he’d get back to me first thing tomorrow…….I couldn’t help but grin as he said this, and I knew he was saying it with a straight face thinking he would be solving my problem. Ok, well what about tonight I was thinking….so what to do here and as I was talking to him, I told him ok, but that he really would have impressed me if he could have given me a name right then and there…..silence on his end until I laughed to show I was just joking. Sometimes humor, ala American style just falls flat here.

As we were finishing up our conversation, 3 cars pulled up and out of them appeared about 8 men, all going aboard the Jumbo Floating, well hell, I thought, these guys looking like either mafia types, or Hanoi movers and shakers, both look about the same, but now I was off the hook, other diners, or at the least, drinkers,…but technically still other patrons, so I said the heck with it, and gave up my bike to the attendants and went on aboard. The gang plank, stretched about the length of a football field, and as I got to the end, the young lady waiting tried to shoo me upstairs to join the rest of the party that had just arrive, it took a moment of time till they finally realized I was a whole separate party of ‘1′. Happens a lot, I roll up to a restaurant, they always ask, how many for dinner etc, I turn slowly and look all about me and then announce just the 1, unless they also wished to join me, good for a cheap laugh, but what the heck, got to find humor where you can I guess.

First indications of disaster arose when I saw the waiters and waitress all huddled around about 30 meters or so away from me,the place is huge, holding the menu, talking excitedly while gesturing at me. At first I was thinking that they trying to figure out which one would draw the lucky straw and be my wait person. Generally my only requirement is that are pretty and have good teeth, as you usually spend a fair amount of time in conversation, up close with waitress or waiters until they finally figure out your manner of speech or the way you will communicate with them. You make an order, they repeat it a couple times, they then write it down, then go back over it in excruciating detail, all the while speaking in Vietnamese and all you can do is just nod yes, that’s right,….sometimes it comes as expected, sometimes with a few surprises. If you then question what is brought to you, with great flourish the order, written in Vietnamese is hurriedly produced, proving that indeed you did order what is on your table, I have learned just to go with the flow regarding what is brought to the table, makes for lots less confusion and excitement.

Eventually a guy with bad teeth came over, placed the menu down, and then stood back waiting. I looked up and saw the whole gaggle of waitresses and waiters still standing in the distance all watching me silently and as I glanced at the menu it became apparent why. It was a tomb of a menu, perhaps 20 pages, all written in Vietnamese, without a clue as to what anything was. Sometimes I can decipher one of these, but this provided little clues, so with a straight face, I decided to have some fun. I was the only patron on the 1^st deck, the mafia guys had went up the stairs. I made it appear I was actually studying and reading the menu for about 5 minutes, then told the waiter to bring me a Tiger beer, make sure it was cold, no glass. The only part he understood, I suspect, was ‘Tiger’ and after he fruitless tried to say a few things to me he went off in search of the beer. There I sat, with said manuscript I couldn’t understand, and was wondering if I was going to just have to do the old shut the eyes, and just make a stab at one of the pages and then just wait to see what I had ordered. There has been many times I have been faced with the menu thing, but my usual practice is to just look around at what others are eating, once I see something that approaches what I consider is acceptable to put in my mouth I just point and get the message across to bring me the same. Most of the times it works, and the food is pretty good, except for that one time I ended up with what I swore was a plate of frog eyes a couple years back, when I was passing through Kom Tum province….never forget that meal.

But as I sat there pondering my predicament, this lovely young lass of 25, as I learned later, approached me and with almost perfect, though stilted English asked me if I could read the menu. No, I responded, and she laughed. So then she said she’d help me, ok, sounded good to me, and I finally settled on a order of 300grams of shrimp, or prawns as the case may be, with a plate of mixed stir fried veggies and some rice. Whew, Glad that was over, my beer arrived and it was very cold, perfect I thought, but the waiter and my damsel who had come to rescue me were not leaving, just standing there waiting for something….ok, I thought, what now, what haven’t I done…and finally I asked them what I had forgotten and the young lady told me I had to go pick out the shrimp from the tanks flanking the entry way. I tried to beg off, saying it didn’t matter, just get the ones which swam the fastest, but that wasn’t understood, so I went to the tanks and picked out about 8 or 9 lively guys and finally retired back to my seat. The shrimp were suppose to be stir fried with some sort of sauce, but came to me deep fried…which was ok, as I like them that way also, but rarely order them without feeling somewhat guilty after years of reading up on wholesome food habits in the land of the obese. They were sumptuous, cooked to perfection, and the veggies were also as good. Finally I was back in the rural areas of Vietnam; you can always tell that when they bring to your table a big bowl of rice. In Saigon, Hanoi, Danang, and any of the other big cities, especially those serving lots of westerners, the rice they bring you is a small molded bowl, same as what you might find in any American restaurant. For big rice eaters, it’s always a disappointment and you must either order additional bowls or make do with just a couple spoonfuls of rice. But in the rural areas of Vietnam, when you order rice, they often bring you a bowl, with maybe 5 cups or more of rice in it. I like that, as I often have the rice as a main, and the other items as a side dish, much in the style of rural Vietnamese.

They had brought me a lot of food, and after eating, like a well fed dog, I sat back, sipped what was left of my beer, and while doing so, I counted the people standing around who were working there, 18 waiters and bus persons. In Vietnam, cheap labor is so abundant, that I am always amazed at the amount of wait staff that is standing around. Doesn’t matter what sort of business you go into, always a huge amount of staff. One effect of globalization when it finally takes hold here in Vietnam is that the country’s employment rate will plummet as the companies employ cost effective management practices and slash unnecessary staff.

Once the dishes were cleared, the young lady reappeared, her name she told me is Phuong, and we then began to talk as she asked me if dinner was acceptable, which I assured her it was. I found out she was 25, soon to be married in 2 months, her birthday is March 16, and she had graduated from the university in Hanoi where she had studied English for 4 years. She hails from a little back water town 175 km north of Hanoi, and her soon to be husband was an engineer making about $100 usd a month, while she was making about $60 a month working 10 hours a day, 6 days a week at the restaurant as a waitress.

She had never been to a dentist, something I ask all the people here, and usually get, more or less, the same answer. She doesn’t have time to read fiction, and the expectation is that once married, the pressure from the husband and in-laws will make pregnancy imminent. I hear variations on this same story all over Vietnam. Seems that 25 is the magic age of marriage here, any sooner and it’s too soon, any later and you are considered an old maid, with children to follow within a year or so of marriage. I just cannot understand it, tons of kids around this country, and tons of people living on just about the same as I described above, and with little or no chance of improving their lot in the years to come. Yet barely able to sustain their own life, they all seem to me be in a rush to pro create, thus insuring that the cycle of poverty is perpetuated. Often I comment on this, but usually there is neither a solution nor adequate answers as to how the children will be provided for other then the parents will both work hard and hope for a better future. And that’s the answer I get from the educated folks. Well ok, time to quit asking that question I guess.

During the time she stood at my table once I had finished my meal, the manger of the restaurant had appeared and pulled up a chair for her to sit in, giving his blessings for our protracted talking, and frankly I was amazed, never seen that in any other restaurant I had been in. It was great, like being on a date with a beautiful young lady, but not having to spend a dime on her as we sat there whiling away 2 hours as the evening ebbed with soft warm breezes drifting in the open windows as the lights from passing ships danced on the water. So there I sat, having eaten a very a good meal, having a football size area to myself, with the undivided attention of a young woman, and then I asked for the check. Not really knowing what the bill would come to. And when it did, the damages amounted to approximately $8 or so, including 3 beers. I looked over the bill, and noted that they had charged me 12,000vnd for the beer, about 75cents. The cheapest Tigers I have gotten in Vietnam this trip. They all asked me to return and I assured them I would as I walked the gangplank, towards shore, a satisfied smile on m face and a wonderful end to a grueling long day.

They invited me to sit with them for awhile and as I had an hour or so to kill before I had to meet someone, I agreed, esp. when they threw in a glass of wine….. we quickly went through the intros and usual sort of questions regarding our stays and in the course of this I told them I was leaving HCM City tomorrow heading for Hanoi, and that I would be traveling with a just turned 18 year old girl, the sister of my dearest friend here in HCM City…but that contrary to popular thinking, we were just friends, and that the trip was a sort of birthday president/ and reward to Van for all the help she had given me while I was in HCM City. After I had said this, Joan asked why I had detailed this fact, the just friend thing. Replying I explained that it gets old; that no matter who I traveled with under what sort of conditions one could usually tell from the side-eye glances and whispers, the eye brow raising along with sly lewd smiles what people really thought.

Here, as in Bangkok, though not as prevalent, but becoming more so each and every time I visit, Vietnam is becoming a destination for the older white guy looking to pair off with the young, very young slender Vietnamese female. As you travel about the town, you are constantly seeing more and more mismatched couples, the classic beer belly, over 50 guys with the young, barely 20 something in tow. The intentions are quite clear and can only be interpreted in one manner, or at least that is how my eyes see it.

So Joan then asked me about my girl friends, and I explained, with a crooked smile, but a straight face, that I had none, ……maybe the crooked smile did as it was suppose to and lent a bit of a question mark. It is my experience that no matter what you answer, as long as you do not answer in the affirmative, no one believes you anyway…. just not sure why, but I guess that most people look into their own souls and determine what they are capable of, or would do in similar circumstances and find it hard to understand anyone doing the opposite. We didn’t dwell there, as she then recounted a visual she had seen earlier in the day regarding this same subject and then asked me if she could ask me a question,…I said sure, thinking this was going to be interesting and she then asked something to the effect of: what is it with the old guys and the obsession with the young girls…..what is it they want?

I had seen lots of this, both here and in other Southeast Asian countries, and I thought I knew the answer, or it seemed somewhat simple to me, but then as I attempted to explain it I found that a simplistic answer really didn’t suffice, and that to just spin out the old ‘just a sex thing’ really doesn’t get into the mind of the old guy and what is really going on there. While this is behavior I generally do not indulge in, it is behavior I could see myself doing, and thus could understand the why of it…..or at least I think I can. At 58, it’s just not that hard of a question to understand.

As I fumbled to do the question right last night, one of the most important reason loomed apparent to me, and that was the fulfillment of the tactile senses, not just in the sex act, but in the play of skin against skin. After all, it is well known that many men approaching this age, the over 50 crowd, have to deal with one form of sexual dysfunction or another, hence the popularity of Viagra. Consequently, I tend to think there is either a hell of a lot of the sexual remedies being consumed or all things being equal, sex isn’t the driving force. I think for a lot of these men that you see engaged in this behavior, there is enormous pleasure laying with a young flawless beauty, flawless of course being subjective, but if we can grant this, then we can understand the desire. I would think that most of these men become lost in the sensation, eyes closed, letting their fingers and hands doing their seeing, moving over the hills and valleys as they remember their own youth and that time is indeed running short. I really don’t think they are out to recapture their youth, impossible to say the least, but that they just want one last time to remember something other than a memory that is 30 years old.

I don’t know about women, but as a man, growing old, losing your youth, your sexual vitality, and your attractiveness to young woman, it is a jarring reality in this youth conscious world. As the face sags, the belly hangs evermore downward, the big boy downstairs just doesn’t rise to occasion as Mr. Dependable, I can understand a mans desire for one last fling. If you add to the fact that generally the ability to communicate is almost non existence with these young girls as few of these girls have any mastery of English beyond just the essential words, then you can truly see it as solitary fantasy. They are, essentially, on a last voyage to place of reckoning. Most communication just almost always has to be carried out through the tactile senses as communication via verbal methods is impractical. And of course, an over 50 guy isn’t really looking to have heart to heart type of talks with the younger crowd.

Another reason is that I think a lot of older men are starved for affection. This is not to say they are not loved, or have good relationships in their own homes, but I would imagine, something about a young woman hanging on your shoulder, eagerly panting in your ear, tussling playfully with you sans clothing on a bed, could be pretty enticing and amazingly refreshing to the weary toll that the years pile on you. Doesn’t take them away, but it could make you forget them for a moment or two while you respond in the childlike ways that the over fifty crowd seems too often to have forgotten.

And then there is one of the most important reasons, at least to me if I imagine myself indulging, and that is the visual beauty of these girls. As you travel in Southeast Asia youth is the norm, and readily apparent all around you, …am not sure of the percentage of the under 30 crowd but think it is extremely high, and they, in their own way, flaunt their beauty and sleekness. Skintight clothing, long straight black hair, high up-turned breasts, flawless skin, bright smiles, beautiful white teeth, luscious lips, small, full resilient butts ,…..you just can’t help to notice these women, and they abound. To be a man, and not indulge in the fantasy is almost impossible I believe, and it is a well known fact that it is not what you do see that excites you but what you do not see. The way they dress, just begs the mind to imagine all that is hidden and that leads to indulging and experiencing. As I think of this, the many hours spent in coffee bars, just sitting and watching, the sheer visual beauty of these girls is almost enough to force you into being a participant. Beauty is of course subjective, but what ever your idea of it is; you would be hard pressed not to find it here if you find Asian ladies the least bit attractive, and if not then I wonder why you are here.

The morality of the experience doesn’t really enter into it, at least not in any deterrent fashion. The fantasy expectations almost certainly would negate any serious qualms over the issue of good or bad etc. An argument can be made for the prostitution angle, taking advantage of poor girls, and on and on and on, but seriously, that won’t hold up here, as poverty abounds, and so does the business of selling what ever it is that you have that might be of value. If I don’t buy, or you don’t buy, the market for this is still a thriving reality. Total delusion to think otherwise. And I do not think any of these guys are really fooling themselves, they know the score, they understand that it is generally a temporary moment in a life’s experience, and once is generally enough I think to have all their questions answered regarding their inner selves. Every once and a while a match is most likely made, and in the girls favor, as they are able to get the ring on the finger and a ticket out of here, and yea, I don’t have any illusions as to how long a marriage like that would or could last, but am sure miracles do occur.

Naw, I don’t think that most guys actually go this far in understanding their intent or the reasons for their behavior, but when push comes to shove, I think these reasons are at the root of what the young girl old guy thing is all about. Most of us old guys know the younger girl will always leave us if we are so unlucky or foolhardy to lose our heart or senses to one of them, …it’s a kind of a thing I think most intelligent men know and understand. And it’s not that the over 50 guy is looking for a new wife or girlfriend, it’s all about the prolonging of a moment in time, soon to be lost forever, and just one last time sort of thing before the page gets turned and the new chapter starts.

Obviously this leads to question of is this is a good thing or not, for either the girls or the old guys, ….. I am aware of arguments for and against depending on what culture you might hail from, but as far as I am concerned, regardless of the arguments, I see nothing wrong with this. Sure, lot of women might think men are pigs for doing this, but who gives a squat what they think. No one forces these moralistic twits to engage in this sort of behavior, and besides, it’s not just the westerners who do this. I have traveled the length and breath of this country, staying in hotels that for the most part cater to the normal Vietnamese and have seen the same thing happening day after day with the older white guy being supplanted by the older Vietnamese man. Old guys like young girls, and it’s not all that damn difficult to figure out why. The people who have a big deal problem with this, their real problem originates in the dysfunctional thinking a lot of people have regarding sex, and the confusion they have separating it as the ‘gold standard’ of love that they have with another person. Most people seem to think that if you love someone, then if you go out and have a sexual affair with another person that translates to mean that you no longer love the one you supposedly love. Just not like that, sex is sex, and love is love, but sex with a person you love is generally far superior then sex without the love. But that doesn’t mean sex without love is all that bad….just a bit more of an athletic endeavor. And yea, we all are aware of the spread of disease, goes with out saying that that is another issue entirely, but then it also goes without saying that if you are going to engage in this sort of thing, it stands to reason that you will take precautions.

The original question had to do with why does the old guy like the young girls and the long and short of it lies in conception of beauty and the tactile senses. Not too hard to understand, and that’s my opinion and I’m sticking with it, Kristin, and Joan. As to the age of Kristin & Joan, well what do you think??

From a 29 year old lawyer I have met:

The Vietnam press is ‘almost’ free.

The divorce rate is about 30% here in Vietnam.

Women over 45 generally have lost both their desire for sex and their sex drive.

A report put out in 2005 stating that there were approx. 800,000 autos trucks, and buses licensed in Vietnam is false and that number is just to encourage foreign investment (he obviously isn’t driving on the same roads I am). That report also stated there were 16,000,000 moto bikes on the road. This I know for sure because they are always on the same road I am driving on…..all of them!!!

From a very fashionable young woman of 24 who has just recently graduated from a HCM university with a degree in social studies:

Vietnamese women wear those 1/8 to 3/16 inch thick bras because they feel their breast were are too small and thus the bra increases the size (all along I thought it was for an entirely different reason).

Bras:

From the lawyer I learned that any injuries received from accidentally bumping into a woman and being hurt by these hard pointed cups would not result in any compensation, or at least he didn’t think so as he had never heard of a claim being filed. He gave me this information in all seriousness and with a straight face. There have been times when I have thought my arm has been broken by accidental collisions on the streets; good advice is to keep arms in close.

From almost anyone you talk to:

The people in Vietnam are ‘almost’ free…..a contradiction in terms that doesn’t seem to bother anyone. Same as the press.

Side note, ask anyone in America, they will probably say the same.

From almost anyone you talk to over the age of 21:

A political conversation is almost impossible to have here, and is met with obvious displeasure as they glance over their shoulders to see who may be able to over hear them. (see almost free above)

A clarification regarding this: a political conversation regarding the political situation of Vietnam is almost impossible to have here, but not a problem to discuss the politics of America, or other western countries.

From almost any one you talk to regarding the subject of sex:

Over the age of 23 is met with stony silence.

Under the age of 23 you are deluged with questions.

This subject will be covered in a separate posting as the questions are most fascinating.

From almost anyone you talk to:

Driving a moto bike on the open roads of the rural providences is extremely dangerous, while driving the unbelievable congested clogged roads of the cities is considered safe.

Perhaps that is why helmets are required in the countryside, while in the city you rarely see anyone wearing one. A side note regarding this: I have done both of these extensively, city roads and country roads, and have seen far more accidents happening in the cities as opposed to the country side. The logic escapes me on this one.

My take on driving: city versus countryside: no comparison, city driving is hari-kari, country driving a walk in the park. Helmet law is totally convoluted, should be reversed, but am left to only wonder at the logic of why it is as it is.

Observations on fashions:

Though unbearable to me, skin tight jeans are the norm on the women, while men favor black polyester pants.

Pull over polo type shirts are less frequently seen as men seem to favor poly shirts, both long and short sleeve which button up the front.

Men sometimes wear, or perhaps, sometimes do not wear underwear,….a definite problem in this sticky humid environment. I have tried all sorts of underwear: from nylon, to silk, to cotton, to poly, to blends, to tight, to loose, to briefs, to boxers, and can attest to the fact that none of them are comfortable.

Women are the same here as in America, while wearing low cut, tight fitting pull over type tee shirts, seemingly to me advertising their attributes, any overt prolonged looks at said exposed items is considered rude. Well, maybe, but none the less, it is still somewhat entertaining and a bit impossible not to do as it seems all the young girls, and there are an abundance of them, are all out on the streets wearing skintight jeans, hung low on the hips, along with scooped out skin tight tops, and oh yea, those 1/8 inch bras.

And along those same lines, walk down any street in the western world where women are present and you will always see nipple impressions as they push against the sheer fabrics used to contain the female breast, here that is a rarity, never seen by me, and believe me, I look the ladies over, all in the interest of research of course.

A lot of high heels here, due to the over whelming neurosis of people feeling they are short. A person with a shoe fetish would be in heaven here.

Men dress shoes seem to be clunky and thick soled. They make outstanding quality shoes here, so can only surmise that that is considered fashionable.

Ambulances protocol while driving:

Ignore and clog the road as usual, unless you are close, then you can close in and try to view what is happening on the inside, but in any case, just ignore.

Ambulance Protocol, Official Govt. Stance:

No one seems to know.

Horn Protocol:

If you got one, use it long and use it often. If you got an especially loud one, use it longer and use it more often.

Horn Protocol ‘B’:

If you hear one, ignore it, if you hear it repeatedly ignore it repeatedly.

Purposes of horn:

To add to general high level of noise pollution, but considered against the party line if you do not use it. To add to general economy as everything that moves seems to have one, thus must be a thriving market in horn sales.

Laughter:

People laugh at you when they are embarrassed by your actions, such as when you are angry or pissed off, generally fueling more anger in you as often it is hard to remember they are ‘maybe’ not laughing at your misfortunes, but that it is a normal response to an embarrassment.

Apologies:

Sharing same traits as in Japan, …almost impossible to ever get one, no matter how grievous the offence. Do not think I have ever had anyone ever tell me they were sorry, for anything, other then to apologize for the small size of a home or the humbleness of an offered dinner. But in regards to behavior, you will most likely grow old before you ever hear any one apologize for something they did to you, especially in relationships.

But then, perhaps as in Japan, almost everyone is perfect and rare for any need for an apology. Sorry folks, just my experiences.

Money:

They want it…if you have it, they will figure out a way to get it from you, not that they just come out and rob you, more stealthy, charge for almost any and everything. Examples, when you sit down at restaurants, they sometimes bring fruit to the table such as plate of bananas, any other place in the world they would be considered included in the meal, eat one and extra charges will be applied to your bill. Small plates of peanuts are like that also, seemingly like a small plate of bread offered to patrons in restaurants all over the world, easy to munch on them as you wait for your food, but if you do, you will pay extra. The one that gets me is the little tissue thing in a small wrap that is suppose to be your napkin when you eat…use it and you will be charged a small amount…. almost always forced to use it as there are no other napkins available, so it’s that or your pants.

Vietnam Traditional Candy/Sweets:

Bizarre and they are not to my taste at all. They are impossible to describe and also a prime reason why I always lose weight here as munching is reduced to fruits and other healthy items.

Chocolate:

Some reason or another, chocolate just doesn’t taste worth a damn here, cannot figure out the reasons, no matter how much I might pay, can never find in chocolate the taste I seek that I identify as the taste I remember in America. My own theory is that due to the heat, they have to put in massive amounts of glue or glycol, or some other stabilizer that renders it impossible to melt in your hand, let alone in your mouth. Chocolate here seems to me granular, as opposed to smooth and luscious.

Taking A Shower:

What’s to say, damn little water pressure, almost everywhere, and there is no concept of what makes a workable shower here.

A mental game I play here, every new hotel, what’s the shower set up going to be….cheap entertainment. Regarding showers, think camping, dribbles of water, and helps to have short hair as it impossible to tell when you finally get all the shampoo out of your hair, nothing worse than getting caught in a rainstorm only to discover shampoo bubbles arising out of your supposedly rinsed hair.

Public toilets:

The only thing I can say about this is nothing is more important then to get regular and stay that way regarding bowel habits. Lord help you if you are caught in public with a pressing need to use a toilet. Public toilets are almost impossible to locate, and if you can find one, there isn’t enough disinfectant in the world that will convince me that it’ll be clean enough to use. And forget about toilet paper, nothing free here, and never any except in what is provided in hotels. Best advice is to get regular, and use your own hotel room….nightmares follow if you do not. I think all those stories about catching some disease from the proverbial toilet seat originated here. The worst is trying to use the squat toilets, a balancing act of major importance.

Toilet paper:

Pass the sand paper please. Ever wondered where all the recycled paper goes in the world, we all know how rough recycled paper seems to be…well guess what, I figured it out.

Toilet paper ‘B’:

Example of how rough the toilet paper is, in almost all the little cheap eats locales on the street, a roll of toilet paper serves as you napkins etc, little dispensers sit on the tables so you can just ‘tear off a few sheets’, in this case, damn ineffective. And check your shoes upon leaving, we all have seen the movies,… smuck walking around with a length of toilet paper stuck to his shoes.

I packed my bike off on the train today, sending it on ahead to Hanoi, having decided to forgo the arduous trip north in favor of arriving somewhat fresh before embarking for a couple month tour of the northern providences. I will be flying up to Hanoi on October the 1^st spending a week in Hanoi visiting old friends before heading out to Haiphong and then on to Halong Bay before skirting the border of China. It is winter up their, so not quite sure what to expect, but will find out soon. For the next couple of days or so I am on foot here in Saigon, been a long time since I have experienced that. A bit depressing not to have the use of my moto I at first thought, but once I got out of the hotel, it became an entirely different city for me. Reminded me of the days when I never had a bike, and I enjoyed the walking, seeing so many of the old things I used to find interesting, the sidewalk life that you miss when you are constantly involved with surviving in traffic. I have gotten to know the city fairly well, at least district 3 and 1, and can easily find my way these days, so I headed downtown just for a lark and to find dinner and any photos that struck my interest.

About 6 or so I ended up in front of the Carravelle Hotel, the glitzy ritzy home of the $7.50 margarita, just as the sky decided to open up with a mini hurricane. I took that as an omen and headed up to the rooftop bar. The bar was slow, a few of the tables taken with single men and a few couples…. no band, just the canned music, kind of loud (normal), and I had my pick of tables for the most part. As I sat down I told the waitress that remembered me from the other night to bring me a margarita and then looked around and noticed a beautiful young western woman sitting alone at the table next to mine. I looked at her for a moment or two and thought that she looked so forlorn sitting there all alone, nursing a beer…. wondering what she might be thinking, I caught her eye and asked her if she wish to join me for conversation and to waste away the time. Her face opened with a smile and said ok. Her accent placed her as either British, or an Aussie, so I took a chance and guessed Australian as proximity made the probability good I would be correct, but she informed me she was from England. We sat and chatted for a couple hours at first talking of the War Museum and other local tourist attractions. She had been in town for just a day or so and was heading to the Cui Chi Tunnels tomorrow, told her I had done that already and explained what they really looked like 35 years ago. We talked of tourists, the in and outs of the quirky way they tour things these days. She has been on a year round, around the world jaunt, by herself, and was 30 years old. A ravishing beauty, with long golden hair, and frankly I was somewhat amazed as she became animated and alive as she recounted to me of her travels. Like I said, the bar was noisy, and as she sat next to me and I listened to her, I could only catch half of her words, but she had been traveling for about 10 months now, and the places she told me about, little towns in Bolivia, Peru, Bali, Australia, New Zealand to name a few.

After awhile I gave up on hearing all the words and contented myself with watching the many transformations of her face as she shared her stories with me. Flashing green eyes (wonder if I got that right), shoulder length golden hair, beautiful teeth with a slight gap between her two front teeth and could only wonder who had let this one get away on a trip like this by herself. In the company of such beauties as I often find myself when I am traveling, I always enjoy watching that wonderful thing called the human face, as it is so capable of so many wondrous expressions. I am not sure what it is, but something about a human face, nothing else in the world can compare to it as it goes through the paces of the animation that only it can produce, and every once and a while you come across a face that takes you on that rollercoaster range of human emotions as it communicates with you. The band finally came on and it was time for me to leave, as I said earlier, have had quite enough of Asian bands which play too loudly mimics of American music. But as I was leaving the Asian Tina Turner look alike lead dancer singer remembered me winking at her the other night as I departed and she caught my eye as I was leaving tonight, and before I could respond, gave me a sexy little wink with a sly smile…….ahhhhh to be 30 again….

Leaving with a smile on my face, saying goodbye to the lovely English Wild Flower in the elevator on the way down to the lobby, I wished her safe travels and a soft reentry into British life again in just a few months, ….a bit of concern to her. On the way back to my hotel, a 3 or 4 kilometer walk back, I stopped for a quick dinner, some bun cha and a shredded mango salad…the bun cha was somewhat disappointing, always is until I get to Hanoi, as bun cha is definitely an Hanoian dish and no place can cook it up as they do, but the salad was good. A good $2 dollar dinner though. As I walked back to hotel, I passed a park, and every few feet on the darkened side walk sat moto-bikes.

I just love this phenomenon I always see here in Vietnam. In America we take our privacy for granted. Young people who wish to be alone only have to either take out their dates in their cars, or borrows dad’s and then head up to the local lover lanes that are prevalent in all our cities. Here in Vietnam, cars are beyond the reach of all but the wealthiest, and privacy for the most part is non existence. When young couples wish to be alone, they congregate at local parks often parking their moto bikes within just a few feet of one another and then they go about their business of just loving one another. Often you find them entwined in every imaginable position that is possible on a 3 foot long by 7 or 8 inch wide moto bike seat. I have seen them in such impossible, at least to me, positions that sometimes I just stop and stare trying to figure out both, how they assumed the position, and exactly how they will disengage without one or the other toppling over, not to mention how the bike stays stationary. Don’t get me wrong, there is no overt sex, just young people kissing, whispering words of love, making promises, and holding each other. As I watch, I can’t help but think of when I was of that age and the different way we did things and I wonder if perhaps that this is a way that might be better in it own innocent way. I often pause and try to figure out a way to photograph this without intruding in the moment, if and when I do, I think I could get some powerful images. So far I haven’t figured out how to overcome the obstacles in doing so, but I am still thinking on it and hopefully will figure out a way. It’s a sweet thing, something very peculiar to all the areas I have visited in Vietnam, and yet it’s a thing you never see listed in any travel brochures……yea, could see why.

To the two young ladies from Japan that I gave my table up to last night at the super ritzy Caravelle Hotel rooftop bar, I couldn’t help but notice the disappointed looks on your faces as the waitress seated you in a area that did not allow you to view the band or the action taking place in the main area of the bar. Your expressions of joy, once you realized I was giving my table to you, made my evening. I have had my fill of, what appeared to be, Korean bands attempting American pop songs, and the both of you looked so forlorn sitting there unable to view the band. For the prices they charge for drinks, you deserved to at least see the action. As I left the bar I dropped my web site address on your table, reaching the door, I looked back, and enjoyed the scene of the both of you reading and talking excitingly about it. Hope you enjoyed your evening.

To Tuan, home town Duc Phong, who sat at the table next to me the other night at the SH Gardens restaurant: forget it, my advice to you is to quit being lonely, find a girl and quit waiting till you think you have enough money. On your salary of 4,500,000 Vietnamese dong (approx. $281.25 usd), and the expenses of living in HCM City, you will never amass enough to feel rich. You have been living here for 4 years, and that is long time for a young guy of 25 to go with out a girl to share your moments with. As you told me, nights are the loneliest of times, eating alone with no one to share with, so take my advice and go find a rich Vietnamese lady who can appreciate you and quit waiting. Many young ladies out there who would just love to be the object of your attention, and yes, I have been to your home town, just passing through it as it is indeed a very small place on my way to Dak Lak province. And yes, I agree, SH Gardens, is a very nice out of the way, quite restaurant and I will come back to it as the food and prices are quite reasonable.

To ‘VC’ as I affectionately refer to my outstanding young friend here in HCM who can converse and communicate effortlessly in five languages, (Vietnamese, Japanese, French, English, and Chinese,) I have replenished my refrigerator with 4 different brands of cheese, and 2 kinds of crackers. Last time you visited you ate everything in sight, hence the nickname “vacuum cleaner” accrued over many dinners and time spent in the accompaniment of food. Your delight in eating cheese for the first time inspired me to lay in a small sampler of various types, …they are awaiting you.

I love the rain here in Vietnam; it is sudden, violent, accompanied by big and bold gusting winds with the crack of thunder and the flash of lightning. It departs, generally as fast as it comes upon you, and I enjoy it immensely, reminds me of my youth spent in Orlando, Florida which is one of the top five areas of the world for thunderstorm activity. The streets become mini rivers for a short time, fun to drive on with my moto bike, and refreshing to my spirit. It becomes a game of chance, deciding when to stop and either take shelter or put on rain gear, miscalculate for just a few seconds and you become soaked by the torrential down pours.

To Do Thuy Duong, the restaurant was crowed for lunch, and I didn’t mind in the least sharing my table with you and I hope you pass the test you were studying for.

When I am HCMC I often have dinners with my friends, but sometimes they are busy and I eat alone. Lot of times it is 50-50 if some one approaches me to ask to share my table and talk, happens a lot, and get to meet a lot of new friends that way. If you are alone here, and wish to do the same, often if you are sensitive to people, you can notice who is interested and who is not. Simple eye contact that doesn’t break away immediately shows interest and often just a gesture towards an empty seat will result in a dinner companion. This happens a lot when I am in the mood….and sometimes when I am not.

I have eaten in a ton of new restaurants while here in HCMC, trying new ones every night for the most part. Soon I will be leaving, heading towards Hanoi, and will write a bit about my favorites. I search for quite places that have very good food, in the moderate price range, somewhere I can have a few beers and a good dinner for two for about $10 to $13 and have found some very good resturants.

Thai, the owner of the hotel I stay at while in HCMC took me to a new Karaoke bar/restaurant that his friend just opened. It was a first for me, going to a karaoke bar, as generally I steer clear of places where a lot of alcohol is consumed. But I was very impressed for a multitude of reasons, which I will write about in another posting. While there I ordered a margarita, something I do a lot here in quest of a place where margaritas are made in the style I am accustomed to. Always disappointed, well maybe not disappointed, perhaps fascinated by the amazing drinks that are passed off as a margarita. Generally you receive a small cocktail glass, which barely holds 2 or 3 ounces of liquid, with a dissipated concoction that while sour, lacks the refreshing greeting that a true margarita delivers. Lot of times they are luke warm, ugh!!!, and can barely taste the liquor. Anyway, the owner of the place asked me what I thought of the drink, and for once, as I had a friend there who could translate perfectly, I answered honestly. Ugh!!! This brought forth a discussion of how to make a great margarita, and I told him I wouldn’t mind paying more for the drink if I could ever find a good one. Anyway, told him that the way I like a margarita was with an ounce and a half of both tequila and triple sec, handful of ice cubes, couple ounces of a good sweet-sour mixture and that it could be all put into a blender, or served on the rocks with a salt rimed glass. 10 minutes later he excused himself, and eventually returned with a version of what had been translated to him….wasn’t perfect, but was probably the best margarita I have had while in Asia. Very heavy regarding the liquor, little in the way of the blend of sweet-sour, but good and cold with salt, resulted in me feeling the effects of it early in the afternoon as I departed into the midst of a raging thunderstorm, which he then provided me a souvenir rain poncho emblazoned with his logo….thankfully, I didn’t have far to drive to get back to the hotel, and soon there after to a wonderful dinner. I am going to go back and take some pictures of this place, called ‘YES’ in district 3 and will include them in the posting I plan of karaoke bars which are extremely popular to the residents but hugely unpopular with local governments. I think the general attitude local officials take with these are the same as what local government takes with massage parlors in the west.

Thinking of that margarita has got me thinking how nice it would be to go out and have a beer,….no boss to tell me no, so I think it’s a good idea if that exactly what I do.