Gallery: Christmas in Saigon and Moored on the Mekong Delta!

Posted by Steve on January 16, 2010, at 6:40 am | Category: Photos, Vietnam |

Sitting proud on an American M41 tank, destroyed in landmine in 1970. Also a geocache!

After a fleeting visit and two extremes of Cambodia we were looking forward to a month in the famous lands of Vietnam. Cautiously optimistic about the country our first stop was the capital, Ho Chi Minh, where we would be spending a hopefully merry Christmas and an excursion to the Mekong Delta. We immediately loved the place, but like all countries it still had its moments. Did we find Christmas dinner? Just how big is a Mekong Catfish? Why on earth would we be ecstatic that Vietnam is an ex-French colony?

Note: 1 GBP = ~30,000 Vietnamese Dong at time of writing.

Our bus from Phnom Penh to Ho Chi Minh, complete with obligatory respiratory protectors…

We alighted in District 1, the tourist centre of Ho Chi Minh, and the only part to carry the city’s old name – Saigon (It was renamed to Ho Chi Minh in honour of the successful North Vietnamese President after the Vietnam War – locally he’s known as Uncle Ho). Dumped on the side of a busy pavement looking lost we sat down for a coffee in Allez Boo, where the rather camp waiter took a shine to Lynette’s hat and began to prance around the cafe with it, before then taking a shine to me and hugging me at every opportunity. Sprinting away and leaving Lynette nursing a coffee, I went on the hunt for a hostel through the rabbit warren labyrinth that existed in between the main streets. After a sweaty hour sprinting up and down the multi-storeyed hotels checking out rooms, I grabbed Lynette (who nearly assaulted the waiter to get her hat back) and we set up shop in the excellent Vinh Chung Hotel, our home for the next few days. A new and delightfully clean hotel with a big plasma screen, Wi-Fi and air conditioning for $15 – we figured we’d splash out, it was Christmas after all!

The streets are generally a pedestrian’s lottery, particularly when even the pavements are fair game.

Saigon was a fun place to be. Busy streets stuffed with random restaurants, streets lined with tiny plastic cheers you sit on to be served cheap beer (10,000D) and crazy local snacks, a lethal torrent of mopeds daring you to cross the street, and no sign at all that we’d just arrived in our first communist country. In fact, everybody seemed exceptionally cheerful and happy to make a fast buck, there was no 1984 tannoy system declaring our duty to be a ‘good citizen’ or police stood at every corner watching our for dissidents. It was just like Bangkok, only busier, cheaper and with better bread. That is one crucial element that we’re so happy the French came through this way for; the bread and pasties. My favourite snack has become a Euro-Vietnamese hybrid baguette; a French stuffed with various meats, soy sauce, salad and Chillis for about 7,000D (25p). Which is handy, as in fairness while the local food is very tasty (similar to Chinese) we’re not going to be attending a cookery class any time soon. One of their main dishes is called Morning Glory, and is basically a plate of finest green… lovely.

Cu Chi Tunnels

Entering my first Cu Chi tunnel… tight squeeze, and surprisingly not a tunnel without choices…

Wanting to crack on with local history, our first day was spent on an excursion to the Cu Chi tunnels. Two hundred kilometres of underground tunnels cobweb through the Cu Chi disctrict of Ho Chi Minh City, and stretch (as our guide tells us) over to Cambodia. It was also our first taste of the victor’s slant on writing war history, and fascinating to see. Before crawling through the tiny (but still enlarged to ‘western size’) tunnels we were subjected to an old black and white war propaganda video, referring to the American planes as ‘devils from the sky’ and highlighting the bravery of nine year old girls who have been awarded medals for ‘blowing up the invader’s tanks’ or ‘sniping a commanding officer’. Immediately I began to build a mental wall to shield myself from Communist propaganda, but remembered that although we believe the west’s historical view to be relatively neutral it will by nature contain bias, so while we’re in this new country we must try to be as open as possible to everything we see and hear.

This beauty greets the marine door opener, who blocks the top half with his gun while the bottom half swings into his coconuts…

Our guide ‘Long’ was a hilariously unfunny comedian, and he did his best to talk through the various aspects of the tunnels; how they would disguise air vents as termite mounds, how traps were laid at entrances and how cooking smoke was vented out to tens of metres away. He described how they built hospitals and schools underground, and how the US military unwittingly built their own base directly on top of a section of the tunnels themselves. He talked about how the US trained their own ‘tunnel rats’ to flush out the Vietcong, and after experiencing a section of tunnel in pitch black (which surprisingly was not linear, and several others got lost) and with my own knowledge that the area was safe I can still say it’s a pretty unpleasant experience.

Christmas is Coming!

Lynette admiring the local decorations, particularly amusing when 99.99% of the locals certainly haven’t actually seen a snowman in the, erm, snow.

Back in Saigon, it was rapidly approaching Christmas, and we were worried about food. We’d seen plenty of decorations, locals dressed as Santa and even fake snow – which was hilarious as we’re pretty sure there would be screams if it actually fell for real – but good old English pubs serving roast turkey seemed to be thin on the ground. Spying an Irish bar the other side of town, we decided to take the walk and see what we could find. Potentially, things could get quite exciting. Worryingly, the closer we got the more we seemed surrounded by exclusive and large hotels; we were definitely not in Kansas any more. We walked through the door, and found a great looking place in very much an old Irish pub style, even serving Guiness (in a can, at 100,000D). This expensive trend continued, and we committed to a beer each at quadruple the standard cost (40,000D). In dismay, we hunted through the menu to find what was for Christmas dinner – nothing! Starting to panic now, Lynette spied a leaflet on the table… three courses of mouth watering Christmas food, with free glass of wine… for 600,000D! Daylight robbery! We hurriedly finished our drinks and exited to the heat and humidity of Ho Chi Minh, things didn’t feel much like Christmas any more. True, 600,000D is around £20, but that’s out of budget for our backpack Christmas!

The ever present beer girls coming to tout their wares en masse…

Resigned to a day without crackers, we wandered home (via the night market for some last minute Christmas shopping), through the biggest gridlock of scooter traffic we’ve ever seen. Which since we’d managed to get lost for the first time in a year, was particularly bad news and a taxi was out of the question. Sitting down in the ubiquitous mini plastic chairs for a beer (paying due notice to the gang of beer girls that swarmed in, made sure everyone was drinking the right brand and then disappearing again in a taxi), we pondered our non-existent options. Unable to conjure up some new ones, we stumbled in our hostel’s general direction, and came across a miracle. A local bar, called ‘Le Pub’, seemed to be doing a roaring trade and serving up offerings such as fish & chips, king size hamburgers and cottage pie. We sat down, found the food delicious, got talking to a Canadian brother and sister about worst Christmas presents ever, and things were starting to look a little bit more yuletide all over again. Things would be ok!

My gosh golly! Its Christmas day! Ho Ho Ho Chi Minh! (sorry)

The next day we woke to the sound of carol singers. In our heads. In reality it was still thirty degrees outside and we were more likely to win the lottery than see a white Christmas. Still, on came ‘Top Twenty Christmas Tunes Ever’ and I gave Lynette her stocking, one of my hiking socks stuffed with randomness (it’s the thought that counts), before we swapped presents (100,000D budget) and I pulled out my trump card; Santa hats for the day! We might look like complete idiots with sweaty foreheads, but at least we could make Saigon feel a little more Christmassy!

But both of us, as stirling members of the British public, wore our hats outside like complete numpties…

So we ventured out for Christmas Dinner at ‘Le Pub’, which was pretty tasty but weirdly arrived without gravy. Fair credit, the manager noticed we were English and therefore experts on all culinary dishes. He found the concept of gravy AND cranberry sauce fascinating and asked if they should be mixed together. Knowing this would create a horrible fluorescent pink syrup, we educated him and said we’d return next year to see how he’d got on. We also asked if he had any crackers lying around, but we think the question lost something in translation.

Lynette enjoying her 2nd Christmas dinner. Spot the turkey. We didn’t… :o)

Retiring back to our room, we called families, got Webcam working, all the good stuff to do around Christmas. We tried to eat the chocolate I thought I’d bought, found them to be pickled raisins and put them carefully to one side. We watched some downloaded Christmas specials, including Top Gear Bolivia special, and even reminisced about South America. Before long we got hungry again, tried to find Christmas Dinner 2: It’s all Gravy, but ended up with seafood and wine. Which wasn’t too bad really…

Boxing Day and Terry’s Agent Orange

An exceptionally cute hair mutt, complete with seasonal getup.

The day when everyone at home was probably playing board games, eating left over Turkey sandwiches and making snowmen with real snow, we decided to go and visit the exceptionally cheerful Vietnam War Museum. In brief, the Vietnam War (known locally as The American War funnily enough) was a failed American attempt to stop the domino effect of Communism. The Communist North Vietnamese backed by China and Russia, were at war with South Vietnam backed by America, France, Australia and others. From 1959 to 1975 and the immediate exit years following the war, anywhere from two to ten million casualties of this war depending on how you count it. Whether you include the South Vietnamese forces killed in the final campaign, the Laotian civilians, or the genocide of the Khmer Rouge campaign that all occurred as a result of the war, all matters. It was a highly publicised and politically important war that had implications lasting for the rest of time.

The fabled Tiger Cages come in various shapes and sizes, designed to stop you sitting, standing or resting and basically making life exceptionally uncomfortable.

So off we trundled, meandering through an oasis park of green with a random miniature Cham temple, passed the disappointingly modern grey block that is the Reunification Palace, and finaly rocked up to the War Museum’s entrance, its forecourt attended by a wide variety of downed US aircraft and captured military tanks. 15,000D entry, and our first stop was a replication of part of the Phu Quoc cells, complete with Tiger Cages (small barbed wire enclosures you cannot stand or sit in that generally cause discomfort), where the South Vietnamese held political and military prisoners of war. The Vietnam government heralds this, the largest camp of the war, as evidence of the brutal and corrupt nature of the puppet South Vietnam government, and is part of the gentle education of the local populace. However the camp did exist, it did have terrible conditions, and the US and its allies were certainly brutal in their attempts to extract information from their prisoners. North Vietnam and the Vietcong committed equally terrible atrocities, such as the 8,000 class enemies of Communism that were executed in the North and apologised for as an ‘excess’ by Ho Chi Minh in 1956. No side was a morally unaccountable participant in this war.

As you walk the streets of Vietnam, the depressing number of beggars obviously screwed up by what amounts to chemical warfare is more than unsettling.

Perhaps more troubling was the story and photographs of the Americans attempt to destroy the troublesome vegetation that helped protect the Vietcong through chemical warfare. Most infamously, Agent Orange has left a mark on the population that is still evident in deformities at birth, vicious scars and burns, and ongoing claims for compensation that continue to this day. Within the museum they even have preserved deformed foetuses, to help bring the message home. Upstairs is mainly excellent examples of war photography, most published, that show horrendous acts. More evidence of bias exists, where photos such as a farmer walking with US forces is described as ‘US Marines chasing down an innocent farmer suspected of being Vietcong’ or where US marines are talking to a villager, and underneath ‘ A US squad leads a woman to her dead husband that they killed earlier that day’. However much any side in a war may bend the truth, it was a valuable experience for us to see the home country’s story in such a well known war.

Mooching down the Mekong

Steering via big toe wouldn’t be a natural assumption, but it keeps hands free and makes everything below the hips more impressive than Flatley.

The Mekong is the 11th longest river in the world, running from Tibet through China, Burma, Thailand, Laos, Cambodia and finally Vietnam where it terminates in the Mekong Delta. This network of forked rivers dissipates the huge river into the sea, and not one piece of land is 3m above sea level. For the Vietnamese, it represents huge opportunity for growing rice (largely thanks to the area, Vietnam is the 3rd largest exporter of rice in the world), harvesting fish and transporting goods. Mostly populated by rural villages, it also represents a wonderful setting to see Vietnamese people at work, and a place we’d been quite excited to visit. However, feeling quite lazy in sympathetically Christmas fashion, we opted to take a 400,000D two day tour rather than organise the whole thing ourselves reasoning that we’d get more out of it this way. We were wrong.

Hurried from lunch to a boat, potentially romantic, in reality a watery conveyor belt.

The first day mainly consisted of a long bus ride with the crazy ‘Long’ back as our guide, a short boat trip, endless orchards and selling opportunities, some bees, some tasty coconut treats and walking in a big group. It was like living life as the rail of a very slow rollercoaster, no chance to deviate from the chosen path and plenty of breaks (where something to buy was inevitably being pushed in your direction). At the end of the day our group size trebled to about forty and we were feeling very disillusioned as we pulled into Can Tho.

Catching up on gossip? Courting? Who knows, but pyjamas certainly know no boundaries in Vietnam…

The second day fared slightly better, spending most of the day in a boat and visiting the entertaining floating market and doing some more walking through orchards. It was great to see that the rural, rudimentary way of life was absolutely in force – bicycles on small paddled boats to cross the waters, bargaining between locals over some pineapples, ladies chopping up fish on the pavement, clothes being ‘washed’ in the Mekong waters. The sense of community was strong, with families living in stilted shacks on the shore, on a boat complete with family pets and a pot plant, or trawling barefoot through the shallower distributaries to fish. In all though, if we were to it again it would be on our own, the experience thoroughly put us off doing an excursion of this type again. Even if it was to spot the endangered Mekong Catfish, that apparently grows to 3m in length and 300Kg in weight. That is one big freshwater fish…

Avast ye hearties! The New Year approaches!

Even in the Mekong Delta, Hip Hop is a crucial fashion statement.

Having loved our time in Saigon (favourite meal still being the slow roasted pork with mashed potato in Le Pub, sorry Vietnam), a bustling city that doesn’t make you want to scream, we set off for the beach. 150,000D bought us a ten hour day bus to Nha Trang (should have been six), the liveliest stretch of beach in Vietnam, and potentially a perfect stop on the way north. We checked out of our hotel, jumped into our first ever sleeper bus and off we went…

Christmas in Saigon and the Mekong Delta! Our first week in Vietnam in the Southern Puppet’s capital, with an excursion to the Mekong Delta squeezed in somewhere…
Our first stop on the Cu Chi tunnels tour, a factory staffed by the handicapped, all looking happily able…	Entering my first Cu Chi tunnel… tight squeeze, and surprisingly not a tunnel without choices…	Thankfully made it out alive! THe other brave adventurers behind me had to be rescued by torch…	The Vietcong disguised their tunnel air vents in various ways, including dead termite mounds…	One wrong footstep involves a series of nine inch nails being driven up your leg.
This beauty greets the marine door opener, who blocks the top half with his gun while the bottom half swings into his coconuts…	A selection of mortars the Vietcong had at their disposal…	We’d never have guessed Adrian Edmonson would join us, but we were equally interested in the alleged leaves that don’t burn…	The shooting gallery at the Cu Chi tunnels; we’d have had a go but its a minimum of ten bullets!	I went down to see some of the rifles in action anyway, still cost me my eardrums.
The Americans tried unsuccessfully many times to obliterate the huge network of tunnels.	A typical kitchen, opposite the hotel and dishing up dinner like nobody’s business…	Saigon central park has a minature Cham tower to keep visitors amused…	Saigon central park, another example of their fine topiary skills…	When in Vietnam, we pretend everyone exercises, here is a budget cross trainer…
On boxing day we visited the War Museum, with the most complete list of torture methods we’ve seen on paper to date.	The fabled Tiger Cages come in various shapes and sizes, designed to stop you sitting, standing or resting and basically making life exceptionally uncomfortable.	Agent Orange, the stuff that vegetation has nightmare’s about, and its side effects on generations to come.	As you walk the streets of Vietnam, the depressing number of beggars obviously screwed up by what amounts to chemical warfare is more than unsettling.	Some deformed baby feotuses, pickled for our viewing displeasure.
The War museum has a great collection of war photography, with various slants of propoganda in the captions.	Oh my gosh! A good old tractor! There’s Vietnamese in Somerset you know!	I did feel obliged to make the peace sign in many Vietnam war photos. It absolves me of the responsibility that I never had.	Saigon is full of art reproduction shops, let them know what you want and they’ll convince even a five year old to put something together for you…	The tour was interrupted with fruit specials with alarming regularity. The stuff in the middle is Chilli and salt, they maintain its great with fruit. Tosh.
We were then ‘treated’ to some fairly hideous local singing. Bless. Its not all bad. We could be dead.	Hurried from lunch to a boat, potentially romantic, in reality a watery conveyor belt.	Chimpy, do you read/view these?	Suddenly we erupt into the mekong, a spew of tourists vomited into the delta.	Purse those lips, we taste like a Caiparinha without the sugar.
Apparently this is an illegal practise, dredging the bottom for sand to sell to the exploding construction industry. Sounds easy. Still illegal.	This is the Coconut Temple. 1% of Vietnamese people are of the Coconut faith. Seriously. Things can get weird anywhere.	A lizard! How exciting.	Melted down coconut sweets, immensely tasty, and this is their production line.	After melting, chop into succulent squares.
Then package up in edible rice paper and inedible wax paper, and sell! Profit!	Another poor nag, out of respect for my sisters we decided to walk and spare him the exertion!	Although a brief stop for some bull love never hurt anyone.	Back out onto the Mekong, on our way up a main delta section to the floating market.	8am is late in the day, but its still a bustle of activity along the shore.
All industries, logging, bamboo, construction, logistics, understandably make their home here.	These guys know how their bread is buttered. Looking cute and fleecing the foreigners.	This is still their life; each boat is likely a family’s home and they bring pets.	That’s two bunches, before you think about being tight.	A more relaxed pair of grandparents, complete with pot plant, soaking up the scene.
Quick! Children! See the people with the funny eyes! They buy pineapples for a whole DOLLAR! Remember this lesson… (Disclaimer: S&L are not racist, just charmingly observant)	The style of rowing doesn’t look efficient, but they manage to get around fairly quickly and without falling over so it can’t be too bad…	Steering via big toe wouldn’t be a natural assumption, but it keeps hands free and makes everything below the hips more impressive than Flatley.	Lots of laughter and smiles is prevalent throughout the Floating Market, which goes on every day whether tourists and travellers are curious or not.	That’s amazing. Two melons and one in each hand. That must take practise.
Catching up on gossip? Courting? Who knows, but pyjamas certainly know no boundaries in Vietnam…	Oiled and read they’re then stacked…	Next stop, a Rice Noodle Factory. Husks currently being milled…	Rice pancake is then spread across bamboo ladders to dry…	After a houge amount of boiling, and more stuff I missed, a big rice pancake is produced.
Next (another) coffee stop, and this poor fish stuck in a tank about a billion times too small. Complete with foot.	Eight years old, table football, stacks of beer and a girl who wants to share it with you. Life is great.	Back to the manic activity of the Floating Market on the Mekong river.	Alongside more adept legwork at steering a boat along the delta.	"Thats it love, you row, I’ll watch, and in a minute, I might fish. For now though, keep rowing."
We actually crossed this bridge for no reason. Exciting.	Some poor bugger lost his lottery ticket.	One of the many nurseries for the orchards that surround the Mekong.	Happily chopping a fish into its component quarks, this lady barely noticed the herd of tourists troop by.	Lynette walking through said orchards, with its fruit individually wrapped in plastic bags to make it more… fruity.
Some more of the locals tending to their crop.	A boat, exceptionally similar to ours but not (otherwise a very clever camera), but to give you an idea.	Definitely whistful.	Somewhere on the end of that line, he has once caught a Mekong Delta Catfish. At up to 3m and 300Kg, that’s impressive.	A rapidly retreating locals cargo vessel contending with the wake of our tourist fart of a boat.
The Mekong river’s fingers serve as sewer, wash basin, shower and bath for millions of inhabitants along its path.	Breakfast. All he needs now is some potatoes and a deep fat fryer.	Looks like leaves, probably tastes like leaves. But is it?	Even in the Mekong Delta, Hip Hop is a crucial fashion statement.	Chilling out at the end of a long night of fishing.
Coconut anyone?	Painting a green object red. That’d be Vietnam.	Our bus from Phnom Penh to Ho Chi Minh, complete with obligatory respiratory protectors…	The worst border crossing photo to date, but since all of them prohibit any photos at all we mustn’t grumble!	On arrival in Saigon (old name for Ho Chi Minh and now the name of district one, our stomping grounds!) and we see our first Santa! Looks just like the real thing! With flip flop covers and everything!
One of many brutally effective traps laid for the marines…	Sitting proud on an American M41 tank, destroyed in landmine in 1970. Also a geocache!	The self-made weapons gallery, a mind of imagination on how to gruesomely maim…	Playing pack the gunpowder with the Vietcong!	A lesson in being green, how to make decent sandals from old tyres…
Stoking the fire in an underground kitchen, the smoke then piped out many metres away to hide its true location.	The American’s mortar and bomb artillery, slightly larger and more varied for interest’s sake.	Lynette admiring the local decorations, particularly amusing when 99.99% of the locals certainly haven’t actually seen a snowman in the, erm, snow.	The streets are ablaze with Christmas lights! And I’m in flip flops and shorts!	The streets are generally a pedestrian’s lottery, particularly when even the pavements are fair game.
Enjoying a quick beer in the ever so miniature plastic chairs in the street…	The ever present beer girls coming to tout their wares en masse…	On Christmas Eve the streets became gridlocked, not so helpful when we got actually lost for the first time in a year and a taxi was out of the question…	My gosh golly! Its Christmas day! Ho Ho Ho Chi Minh! (sorry)	But both of us, as stirling members of the British public, wore our hats outside like complete numpties…
An exceptionally cute hair mutt, complete with seasonal getup.	Lynette enjoying her 2nd Christmas dinner. Spot the turkey. We didn’t… :o)	First stop in the Mekong! Long! Was back! With beeeeees!	Which he unceremoniously plunged my finger in to. No stings, great honey. Pooh.	Lynette in her traditional (and mandatory in this heat) and well used hat…
Next, snake wine. The worst alcoholic drink I have ever tried. Worse than Grappa. That bad.	Before being stacked on bamboo ladders for even more drying…