Saigon and the Mekong Delta, South Vietnam

Part 8 -- Saigon (aka Ho Chi Minh City) and the Mekong Delta, South Vietnam

New Year’s Eve: There are nine million people in metropolitan Saigon and they all drove in to the center of the city, around the park, in front of our hotel, on their motorbikes, to celebrate. And they brought their 30 million country cousins along for the ride. Vroom vroom vroom…

They drove around the center of the city like a many-limbed beast slithering and squirming in an unending stream like lava through the streets of Saigon. Impossible to cross the street; we got stuck a few blocks from our hotel and thought we’d never get back.

Patricia fulfilled a heart’s desire: she ate fried scorpion and charcoal-grilled crocodile in a restaurant that serves many unusual dishes (see pic). She’s also devoured silkworm cakes for breakfast and is eager to eat spiders in Cambodia. Not me.

We dined in the night market on roasted oysters and charcoal grilled shrimp- both the biggest and most delectable I ever ate. This fabulous restaurant is set up and taken down each night.

I found a t-shirt with a picture of Mao holding up a Louis Vuitton bag, his i-pod plugged into his ears, his I-pad and i-phone in his hands, and all the happy Chinese people around him doing the same, in the midst of billboards for coca cola etc. I want to copy it and sell a gazillion of them. Taking orders….

The rest of the time we sat in cafes and watched the Saigon traffic, which is phenomenal.

From Saigon we drive south into the Mekong delta. Roadside cafes offer hammocks to lounge around and think about nothing as you sip your drink. Apart from tourist transportation there are no cars here; everyone is on motorbike.

We reach the river and board a boat traveling north. I expected a peaceful bucolic landscape with small fishing villages, farms and rice paddies, but instead found big bustling cities built along the banks of the busy river engaged in constant commerce. I saw more tourists at the “traditional” floating market at Cai Rang than pineapples.

After two days dawdling in busy Can Tho City we drive to Chau Doc, a Khmer city on the Bassac River, where I get to see what I was hoping for: a quiet, laid back provincial town with real river life of fishing and farming. On the boat again we see small villages with tiny houses built on stilts, made of wood, straw, rags, corrugated iron, flattened tin cans and bottle tops, fronting the river. We visit a floating market, see fruit gardens, fish farms and a lot of fishing with nets.

In a seafood shop we feast on grilled fresh oysters and clams, giant prawns in tamarind sauce, and grilled crabs with onions – everything alive until cooked. We drink red wine from Dalat, a town in Central Vietnam where French occupiers went to rest and cultivate their favorite vintages. Not bad at all.

A couple of cool dudes on motorbikes drive us up to the temples and pagodas of sacred Mount Sam, from the summit of which we see Cambodia, seven kilometers away. Our drivers are delighted to get paid in US currency.

Early next morning we board a speedboat and navigate up the peaceful Bassac River into the great Mekong River where three hours later we stop at the Cambodian immigration station on the river. The captain changes the boat's flag. My passport has no more room, it seems, and my guide bribes the official with $5.00 so he can find a little spot to place his official stamp, and my visa is issued. Welcome to the Kingdom of Cambodia!

A few general observations before I leave Vietnam: Wifi is everywhere; even the simplest bamboo hut in the middle of nowhere is wired. Everyone has a cell phone; towers are everywhere. Streets are cleaned constantly; no trash remains un-swept for more than a few minutes. Public toilets are clean and supplied with soft toilet paper.

Hotel breakfasts are rich, varied, mostly buffet style: chafing dishes with local specialties:spring rolls,soups, vegetables and noodles, as well as western style dishes:eggs, cereal, fruit, toast, jam, pancakes, croissants –you name it. But the “breakfast coffee” is strictly for tourists; it doesn’t pack caffeine like Vietnamese coffee. A cup of Vietnamese coffee, however, is so thick you can stand a spoon in it.

And, a word about Communism – as I see it: Whatever we, the USA, fought to save the Vietnamese from is working very well, thank you. Private enterprise thrives; prosperity is on the verge everywhere.