From the Mekong

 

From the Mekong, days later.

We are now at our next to last stop, at a small hotel in a small village on a tributary of the Mekong river. Rivers are everywhere here, in this long narrow country that we have traversed, from north to south, in the past nearly three weeks.

This morning, in  a couple of hours, our guide here, Kim, will pick us up and bring is to our last stop, Ho Chi Mihn City.

The city is more commonly known as Saigon, formerly the capital of South Vietnam. According to our guide and things I’ve read, older people, at least in the southern part of the country, still refer to it as Saigon. There is apparently no consequence for referring to it that way. If nothing else, Ho Chi Mihn City is cumbersome on the tongue.

I am sitting in the gardens of Bamboo Eco Village, a place I chose after browsing the internet, after several suggestions by Luke at the travel agency. It is more rustic than the places he suggested, and further from the city,   the base for exploring the Mekong area. There are various tourcompanies that have day trips to this area from Saigon, but since it is a three hour drive, I imagine it would be a rather grueling day trip.

This place is beautifully landscaped, with lily pads and various fruit trees, and Monet- like bridges, constructed largely of bamboo. And a number of tables set under thatched roofs, under one of which I am sitting now. Our bungalow is constructed of bamboo, wood and brick, and has a outdoor shower and bathroom, totally private. There’s a mosquito net over the bed, which I  find both atmospheric and worrying. But the room is air conditioned, and after an initial bite there were no mosquitos to be found. I did sleep under the netting the first night, but for last night decided it wasn’t necessary. Loring finds the netting claustrophobic, I find it comforting and charming.  And romantic, although with one of us sleeping under it and the other outside, not sure how romantic that is.

Yesterday we visited a few places with locals showing us their cooking or other skills. We began the day early, at 630, with a drive up to Can Tho, where we embarked on a boat for trip up the river, (actually close to our Eco Village) to the floating markets. The neatest part of the trip was that they served us breakfast on the boat. I don’t know how this idea originated,  or how common it is, but it was delightful. There were pastries, fruits, hardboiled eggs, coffee and tea, and fresh juice. It was a treat to eat while cruising up the river. The boat had a couple of tables that could have accommodated four each, but we were the only passengers. We passed and were passed by many other boats, some bigger, some smaller than ours, mostly carrying tourists but some others with locals. Perhaps going fishing, or to the market themselves.

I had imagined the market to be much like the one I’d seen in Bangkok some years ago, where the boats were all crammed together, a real market  but very touristic, and who knows what it might be like now. But although this was also touristed, the merchants boats were spread out across the river, with smaller boats rowing up to them. It seemed as though the small boats were both buying from and selling to the larger ones. And maybe that was true. I’ll try to remember  to ask Kim today.

The bigger boats weren’t huge, as I’d imagined from Kim’s description. They were mostly houseboats with a family living on them.

Later we went to a fish farm,  on an island that we took a short ferry to. We were joined by a young woman, a local guide. She told us that the area had begun to be developed for tourism about seven years ago. The fish farm was fascinating. They took us to a number of pens with a variety and different sizes of fish. When she fed them for us tourists, they jumped clear out of the water. And then there was a pen with smaller fish that you could put your feet in and have them nibble, supposedly to clean your feet of dead skin. I’m not sure it actually did that, but it was amusing to put your feet in and feel them, and virtually everyone who tried it giggled because it tickled!

We were led on a short path through the village to a spot with a couple of tables, surrounded by logan trees. We were brought three different varieties – the very sweet ones, the medium sweet, and the least sweet but meatiest . I liked them all, and gobbled down a number of them. To me they are somewhat similar to rambutan, which I also like. I suppose a Vietnamese would not think they are alike. The texture is similar to a grape, whitish in color. You don’t eat the outer part, you peel them, and then there’s an inner seed which you also don’t eat.

Next we were taken to another house to learn to make a couple of local dishes. One was a kind of crepe, but made   from rice flour, and cooked crispier, which was filled with a shrimp and vegetable mixture. The other was also rice flour, cooked over a fire in a pan similar to one for poaching eggs. The batter went in each individual spot, and once it was cooked, over a fire with a lid over it, it was filled with a custard -like filling.

Unfortunately I have been plagued with some kind of stomach bug since the snake potion episode on Halong Bay almost two weeks ago. I have not had any vomiting or other extreme symptoms, since the first night, but have had pretty much no appetite and have had to force myself to eat anything. What a shame in a place known for its cuisine, much of which I love. It is amazing how many different ways they can use rice and rice batter to produce different dishes, most of them delicious.

The buffet breakfasts everywhere we’ve stayed have been sumptuous. They   all include a variety of dishes that we’d normally eat for lunch or supper, stews and stir fries, soups including pho and congee. There’s also always a selection of cold cuts and cheeses, and a variety of breads and small cakes. Something for everyone.  And usually an omelette/egg station. One had a waffle station. And always a variety of local fruits. My favorites have been dragon fruit, both beautiful and delicious. And rambutans are another favorite, although not often served at the breakfast buffets. One hotel, though, had a welcome basket including small oranges, rambutan,  grapes, and more.

Our last four days before the Eco Village were at the  Avani resort outside of Quy Nhon. It was a beautiful place, right on the ocean. There were ocean views from bed, from the balcony, and also from the shower, with a sheer glass walls and total privacy. 

It is a beautiful place, but unfortunately, the four days we were there were all stormy, with intermittent rain. The sea was rough. So what was supposed to be our four day beach sojourn was not much of a beach stay. Loring did walk down the beach to the nearby village one day, and he also swam a couple of times in the infinity pool.

It was still a stunning place, and since I’d still not been feeling well, a good place to lay low and relax. As in other places, signs of future development were everywhere. There were several other hotel/ resorts along the coast from the city. But there were at least twice  that many planned or already under construction.  It is difficult to tell how many are still being built, and how many were started and halted by covid, perhaps not to be built at all. There didn’t seem to be that many signs of ongoing construction.

To get to Quy Nohn we returned to DaNang and then took a six hour train ride. Luke, our travel agent, had said he would book an entire four passenger cabin for us, which didn’t seem necessary. In retrospect, though, it was a good idea. There were two upper berths and two lower. It was daytime, so we didn’t really need the beds. But I stretched out on one, and wound up sleeping about half of the six hour trip. The rest of the time I lay stretched out as well, enjoying the panorama of the endless rice fields streaming by outside  the window.

We arrived and were picked up by our local guide and brought to the hotel. The connections along the way have been well organized, with someone meeting us at each juncture to bring us to the next.

The only time a connection didn’t work well was at the airport in Saigon a couple of days ago. We waited a half hour until our guide, our current guide Kim, finally arrived. We had just decided to call the travel agency, and Loring was on the phone with someone there, when Kim finally showed up. There had apparently been some misunderstanding, but i never understood what it was. In any case, we were just glad to see him, and it was hard to be frustrated because he was so good natured.

 

A few days later, writing  from the check-in line at Saigon airport.

 

We are on our way home in line at the Emirate Airlines counter.  Our flight is at midnight.  We'd been told to arrive at 7pm, which seemed earlier than necessary. So we got here at 8pm, and the counter doesn’t open until 8:55 pm. That’s only 10 minutes from now.

 And... at precisely 8:55 four uniformed ticket agents stand facing us, bow, assume their stations, and the line begins to move. Efficient and charming.

And that illustrates how all the service personnel in hotels, restaurants and other locales along the way has been. Everyone has been polite and friendly. Sometimes it feels to the point of subservient and is a little uncomfortable. I do like the slight bowing, though, which is mutual.