Red Right Blog |
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Rants, Rates, Slags, Slates. Manic-depressive posts from Red Wright-Hand. Because there are thousands of worthless blogs out there and who am I not to add to their number?
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Wednesday, March 02, 2005
BUU LONG: Woke the next morning feeling human at last. Dr. Sinister had a swell idea: a car ride out to Buu Long mountain, east of Ho Chi Minh City, in the vicinity of Bien Hoa. You can easily hire a driver (and possible guide) by checking with the tourist desk at any of Viet Nam's average-or-better hotels; apparently this is the best way to get to any place off of the main air and bus routes. One thing we quickly learn: traffic on the roads outside HCM City is just as nuts as within. You almost never see a helmet on anyone riding their cycles; a dust-blocking bandana tied around the face is about it. And I never did figure out if the fluttering motion drivers sometimes made with their hands meant "it's okay to pass me," or "back off, I'm coming through," cuz it scarcely seemed to make any difference I could see. In the end, paradoxically enough, I found it much less stressful to be a part of the traffic rather than watching it rumble by from an exterior coign of vantage. So we were out in the sticks at last, where few Westerners seem to go, which got us some nice stares, far preferable to people in the city trying to sell us tourist junk all the time. The mountain and (artificial) lake area turned out to be as scenic as advertised, and a good hike brought us to the pagoda at the peak. On the way back down, we passed two Vietnamese on their way up, one of whom began a friendly conversation with us (in English, of course); turned out this fellow was now a mechanic in California, returned for the New Year holiday, and very interested to see us two round-eyes in this area (which, I'll say it again, is off the beaten tourist track). His companion, who apparently spoke no English, watched us with a pleasant smile as we talked; when I tried uttering the phrase "viet kieu," this fellow laughed aloud, good-naturedly I like to think. Later: After the drive back to HCM City, and a revivifying pho lunch, the Doctor and I bought some reproductions of wartime Viet propaganda posters from a shop specializing in them; they're more tasteful than you'd imagine. Sorry, unable to reproduce them for you here. The doctor thought he'd do a little bargaining with the proprietress, and "playfully" made her an offer of one US dollar for the lot of four; the look she gave him had me close to sprinting out the door. Not to worry: a couple hours later I was getting a (legitimate) massage, complete with hot-stone rub-down, not far from my hotel, and all I could think was "Ah, this is Saigon now, not Ho Chi Minh City." Ten bucks for the one hour treatment. The relaxation came in handy, as a couple of Dr. Sinister's friends, fellow American-expat English teachers living in S. Korea, later entered the scene, and a spot of drinking commenced. May I recommend the rooftop bar of the Rex Hotel on the Saturday night before Tet? |
