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Tuesday, 29th November, Bee-Saigon Hotel, Ho Chi Minh City!

I should probably write about our last day in Singapore, but right now I am just so overwhelmed with excitement that I can’t. I keep stopping typing to grin stupidly and every fibre of my wants to dance everywhere. We’re in Ho Chi Minh City (Saigon), and our room is…unbelievable. I want to cry I am so happy. Added to that, we’ve polished off half a bottle of dutyfree Johnny Walker ($9 for 375ml), and we’ve hopped into the 0.60c coca-cola. I have never, ever experienced anything close to the overwhelming joy that I am feeling right now. The night safari last night was incredible, but it was touristy. This is something else. This is sitting on a balcony (a balcony!!!) and looking down an alleyway with people riding cyclo’s (INTERCEPTION!!! Playschool is on!!!! We’re thrilled! Almost as exciting as seeing “Alf” at Singapore Airport! Oh! They’re singing the Bags song! Bags, bags, bags, they’re very useful things! etc). Okay, must try to calm down. Speak in detail. Must tell of the slack-jawed wonder with which we drove through Ho Chi Minh to get to our hotel. Oh boy, I’m getting a wittle bit drunk. Haven’t had lunch. Must keep typing though! James claims it’s endorphins mixed with alcohol, which is a dangerous mix. He’s feeling smashed too. He just said “This room could be in Baghdad and I’d be over the moon!”. I can’t stop smiling. My cheeks hurt. Oh my gosh I am sooooooooooooooooooooo happy!!
Okay, so Saigon is like…it’s like you keep expecting the slums to stop, but they don’t. You see shirtless men carting goods, one man had one of those rod-things across his shoulders, with nets at either end filled with stuff. People sit in shed-like shops, they’d look like garages if there were many vehicles here aside from taxi’s and scooters. The cars either drive on the left, or the right, can’t quite tell because the drivers just make up their mind as they go. No seatbelts in the taxi’s either, and there’s constant honking and beeping. To cross the road, you just have to walk. The scooters will avoid you (advice from Ann McGuire which has already come in handy, thank you!!!). We gave the driver a tip of 10, 000 Dong, which is about 0.80 cents, and he was ecstatic. He smiled so wide and pointed again and again to where our hotel is, to help us.
Wait, gotta go back to the drive. Um…trip through customs was surprisingly easy. This was our first encounter with people who didn’t speak proper English, and the bloke who checked me looked at my photo, smiled, said something in Vietnamese, I looked baffled, he laughed, said something again, but I could tell it was friendly. I just smiled and shrugged a little, and he let me go. I think he was saying that my photo was nice, or that I was a typical, overfed Westerner, something like that. I’m going for the former.
Every now and then, I have to hold my head in my hands and just take a deep breath. This is what travelling is. This is why we have come. When we were in Singapore, I was a little excited. I loved a lot of what we did, but I got a little cranky, and James was quite detached from it all. He’s never been to Vietnam, and we’re both….oh boy….I just said to James that I have never, never, felt this in my life, and I can finally understand how someone can visit a place and decide never to leave. I thanked him for giving me this feeling. Earlier, we stood on the balcony, and he told me about how he has wanted to come to Vietnam for so many years, but he always put it off and off. Which I’m glad about, because now he’s here with me, and I love him so much, and it’s so amazing to be in an incredible city, both experiencing it for the first time together. Singapore James had done. Saigon, James is as excited as me. He’s taking photos, which we will try to upload, he is showing me photos and grinning at me endlessly. We even have a photo of me doing my ecstasy dance. We must put photos of our room up as well, if we can.
Oh yeah, haven’t finished about the drive. Saigon. Buildings are made up of concrete, unpainted, stained with mildew and scraped paint, tin rooves. To me, it looks war-torn, not destroyed, just neglected. Like all communist cities, perhaps? James thinks it doesn’t look particularly war-torn. It struck me as being particularly…communist? Is that the description I’m looking for? Basically, everything is essentially non-descript (interception! Humphrey B Bear is now on TV!!!). Anyway, buildings are plain, lacking the over-the-top colour of Singapore. Shutters are chipped paint, browns/blacks, people greet you as you pass, but we know that this time they really do want to sell us something. Okay, have to talk about our alley. We’re living down an alleyway with everything we could want in it, tailors, restaurants, general shops. Powerlines here are grouped like cables at a LAN, hundreds of black cables drooping then gathered together in a frighteningly convoluted bundles. So the taxi driver stops, points vaguely down an alley, we give him the tip and he points emphatically with a big grin (as mentioned earlier). We walk through a curtain of scooters, and head down an alleyway. Great, I think, a super dodgy alleyway! But it’s not dodgy. It’s incredible. Narrow, shop front eaves almost meet in the middle. We pass restaurants where a young Vietnamese lady tries to sell books to tourists. But there aren’t many tourists here, only a few. The shops are tucked back a little, dark so you can barely see what’s inside them, but it’s not dodgy. It’s…character. It’s poverty, but it’s not poverty like we know it. It’s socialist poverty, which means more a standardised way of living, no upper-class, everybody lives for the moment rather than for the future. I think. Inspector Rex claims there is upper class, but I haven’t seen it yet. I’ve only seen communist flags flying from posts, and enormous banners of Ho Chi Minh.
Onto the Thai Red Bull now, which is much smoother than Aussie Red Bull. Mmmm….wings….and we’re also eating the crackers Renay gave us. Renay, your snackpack was the most thoughtful present, we have enjoyed almost everything in it (not meaning that there was anything we didn’t like, just that we haven’t finished it yet), especially the crackers and cheese.
Okay, the alleyway. Um…have I mentioned narrow? Yes. Imagine the stereotypical alleyway filled with shops, boutique hotels and restaurants. That’s where we’re staying. We walked into our hotel and saw dark wood, everything furnished in bamboo, stylish Asian décor, a twisty staircase. Only to be told we weren’t staying there, but at Bee Saigon, which, to my knowledge, was the crappier version of Bi Saigon (where I thought we’d booked). We were told it was a short walk to Bee Saigon, which we didn’t believe, so James put on the big backpack and I took both daypacks. He’s outside at the moment, looking down the alleyway. Anyway, the walk was only about 50 metres away. I bitched the whole time about it not being Bi Saigon, which was meant to be heaps nicer. We’d seen photos of Bi Saigon, not Bee Saigon. Oh yeah, our pilot was Aussie, which settled me a little. Had a couple of moments where I was like “Oh, that doesn’t sound good” when the engine faded a little or something, or rumbled too loud, and James ended up saying “Quit saying that!!” Hahaha! Anyway, back to the hotel. Bitched the whole way that we were going to get as crappy a room as in Singapore. I couldn’t be bothered staying in a shitty, wallpaper-less, windowless pit like there. But then, after four flights of stairs, she opened the door to this, our room. Floorboards, wood-panelling, and large, so, so large compared to Singapore, with a balcony. A BALCONY!!! Our balcony has small stools, pot plants and wrought-iron railing. We can see all the way up and down the alley, we can see people hawking, we can see into the shops across the road. Directly opposite is a woman who sits with two rabbits in a cage.
Anyway, we should go eat. It’s 3pm, but it feels like 4. The computer says 4, but Vietnam is an hour behind Singapore. James is counting our thousands of Dong right now. We feel so rich! Endorphins have faded now…am feeling less hysterically happy. We must go outside and get excited again. Until next time, so long all my friends who are unfortunate enough to not be here!!!

Wednesday 30th November, Bee-Saigon Hotel, Ho Chi Minh City, 9:02 am

Well I must confess we got a little silly on $2 cocktails and $1 beer last night. All up, we spent quite a bit of money (it all adds up!), but that also includes the last of our expenses in Singapore, and a bottle of alcohol from the airport. We had a rather large and expensive dinner as well. I was very confused, though, because I thought the conversion rate was $1 to 100,000 Dong, but then discovered that it was $1 to 10,000 Dong. Which is still very good, but it makes a huge difference thinking something is 0.20c, to realising something is $2. But still, $2 for a cocktail is amazing. This holiday is currently seeming like “Angela’s Cocktail Tour of Asia.” We’re going to try to get a different coloured cocktail in every city. We also, on a whim, decided to be daring and try some Vietnamese Whisky. Oh boy! It was like metholated spirits crossed with methane crossed with battery acid. I think it actually sobered me up! James was a bit rolly-polly, but I suddenly found myself, after about eight cocktails, and three strong whiskeys (only one of which was the Vietnamese whisky) feeling insanely sober. But let me start at the top, because I seem to be wandering all over the place.
First, I should write about our last day in Singapore. On that day, we wandered around Little India, bought a USB cable, went to an internet café, then caught a taxi to Chinatown. Chinatown was beautiful. Market stalls crowded the streets, filled with silk ornaments, exquisitely painted handicrafts, pirate CDs. The underground train station spews you out right in the middle of all this, so if you want to catch the train it’s a wonderful spot to end up, but as there were two of us, it was cheaper to catch a taxi (and less time-consuming!). We wandered the block for awhile, looking for the largest Hindu temple in Singapore. It’s sad to say, but we were quite disappointed. We’d seen one earlier, on I think it was North Bridge Road, and it was exquisite. The detail was incredible, with brightly coloured Hindu symbols. Inside, we could see a man dressed like an Indian prince, with paint on his forehead and a brightly coloured turban. The walls were filled with detail, and we subtly tried to take photos of the inside. We thought, If this is what this temple is like, imagine what the Sri Marram Man, biggest Hindu temple, will be like! Sri Marram Man was…very average, and the Hindu’s at the door were very cranky. We removed our shoes, and were asked if we wanted to pay $5 to take photos. We declined, and later decided it was the best $5 we’ve ever saved. It was pretty, but not jaw-dropping, and it was relatively large, but a lot of the space was plain. This plainness is particularly obvious when compared to a temple we later went to, a Hokkien temple called Thian Hock Keng just outside of Chinatown. But before we experienced this, we went wandering for lunch.
We were both craving a salad sandwich, so we wandered for about half an hour looking one. We went through a couple of a shopping malls, by this time getting tired and cranky with sore feet (James has just gone out onto our balcony in Ho Chi Minh to listen to a section of the “Apocalypse Now” soundtrack. “Shit. Saigon. I’m still here.” He’s fulfilling a lifelong dream right now!). Anyway, we eventually went “stuff it” and ate at a KFC at the People’s Plaza opposite the heart of Chinatown. We made sure we ordered things you can’t get in Australia. They were the only place around offering salads, so we justified it a little by ordering an oriental chicken salad. It was good.
By this time we were a bit over temples, but we didn’t have time to do much else, so we went to another temple which was meant to be better than Sri Marram Man. We weren’t expecting much, but we were blown away. The Lonely Planet Guide said this temple was the highlight, and they weren’t lying. It was a Hokkien temple, and there were gold carvings everywhere. What’s more, we could wear our shoes inside and wander about freely, which was nice, taking as many photos as we wanted. And it was free! The central part was a massive shrine, decadent, dripping with intricate carvings and exquisite colours. The whole place is built without nails, and, although it was restored recently, is still an example of an ancient building method called “post and beam.” Down the side of the temple were two alleyways, and along this were individual shrines to different Gods. A few locals prayed by these, but the temple in general was quite deserted of locals.
On this high note, we caught a taxi back to our hotel and watched some kick-butt pool tricks on ESPN. Philip and Diana were to pick us up in a couple of hours, so we tried to nap, but was interrupted by the cleaning lady, who said she needed to clean right now (despite our “do not disturb” light being on). So we got up and went to the hotel bar for a drink and cried over how much we’d spent. But we decided to show Philip and Diana our gratitude for all they’d done for us by offering to pay for their ticket on the Night Safari, which they had agreed to join us on.
When Philip picked us up, he seemed extremely stressed. Very rushed and moving quickly and with purpose, like he couldn’t snap out of work mode. I don’t know that he was too keen about doing the Night Safari, but because we wanted to do it so much he was obliging. At the safari, we offered to pay their tickets, but they refused. Philip was still very frantic-seeming, and he rushed us to find food. Then when we sat down, he started to relax. Later, he told us how grateful he was that he had come; he found the whole experience so peaceful and calming, and he was obviously a different man at the end of the night.
The Night Safari is incredible. It’s one of the single best tourist attractions I have ever attended, and I cannot recommend it highly enough for any person visiting Singapore. It costs about $18SGD, and the entertainment simply does not stop. From the opening shows, to the décor, to the toilets, everything feels like a magical experience. Every inch is in safari theme, and the bathrooms have no fourth wall, but rather a wooden fence behind lush palms and bushes. There is a not a second when you are not being entertained, and I have never experienced better value for money in my life. It’s a good, solid 3-4 hour evening.
Before you eat, for a small donation to wildlife conservation, you can have your photo taken with three animals: a constrictor, an owl and a Cerval cat. Unfortunately the cat was taken away just as we walked onstage, which was upsetting because that is what we wanted a photo with the most (it was getting cranky, though, so maybe it’s for the best!! Reminded me of Coco, mum, when we had her at the Royal Show, snarling and growling at the small children. Coco had to be put into isolation!). But we did get the obligatory touristy snake-around-the-neck photo, which was great.
For some reason, the staff were insanely, over-the-top helpful to us. Whenever we’re out with Philip and Diana, we get ridiculously good service. We never got bad service, but we always got extraordinary service when they were there. The hotel staff went out of their way when our room reservation was wrong, restaurant staff buzz around us, topping up our water and asking us if we want more, etc. We don’t know if it’s just because Diana and Philip are locals, or if because it’s obvious they’re wealthy. They are very humble in their wealth, though. They dress subtly, with taste rather than flash, but perhaps, when you are in that culture, the staff can spot money immediately? I don’t know. Perhaps something about the way they carry themselves, or a simple look that says “treat me with respect.”
Anyway, after the photos there was a traditional fire-breathing show, which elicited many “oohs” and “aahs” from the audience! Then suddenly about ten staff were smiling and guiding us to the tram for the safari, where we were told which were the best seats and explained in detail where to go, what to see. The trams are like water snakes. Deathly silent, they glide along the pathway, the only noise being the cheery voiceover of the guide. I was so excited I could barely sit still. I just kept gasping “Oh my gosh! Look! Look look look!!!!”. The animals were lit up with a soft blue light, with the guide discussing the animals as they went. Occasional conservation commentary slipped in as well, such as “remember, it takes three tigers to make a fur coat, but only one ignorant person to wear it.” I think the most thrilled we both got was when we saw a vulture (a real live vulture!!!!! It was like a Disney cartoon!), and a flock of flamingos. Oh, and a hoard of otters, running along a log, clumping together like slimy rats. But very cute slimy rats!
Halfway along the tram ride, we had the opportunity to get off and walk along a trail, to see more animals. I think this is when Phillip began to feel the most relaxed. The path was cool, thick with plants, and silent. The innocence of the animals was so touching; they wandered about in their incredibly detailed habitats, eating, being cute. There’s something so peaceful about being with animals. We went through an enclosure with free-flying fruit bats, but couldn’t see any. James was like “where are they?” and we both turned on the spot, looking up and down, and then suddenly I yelped “crap! There they are!” There were about five, hanging from the tree five centimetres from our faces!!! The walk was called the “leopard walk,” but when we got to leopard enclosure we couldn’t see any. So we gave up, walked on a bit, and saw a second window into the enclosure and there they were, three beautiful leopards, all lounging by the window. They were enormous, much bigger than I expected leopards to be. One stood, stretched, strutted past the window and then climbed a branch and flopped with his legs hanging either side. The other interesting sight was seeing Indonesian Porcupines, which looked like a cross between a beaver and a porcupine.
We got back on the tram, in the same best seats in the house, and continued the tour. This tram was a little squeakier, but the guide was much more interesting and animated in his commentary. He was very funny, saying things like “And what may we have here! Oh look! It’s the *drops voice to sound spooky* terrifying, frightening king of the beasts!”. There was an extra part that only the tour bus can reach (because you may pay less and walk around the safari if you want, but the bus gets closer to the animals and goes to a different location). On this secret tram section, there were elephants and a couple of other cool animals.
After the tram, there was a Creatures of the Night show, which is on every hour on the hour. I don’t want to say too much about this show, in case anybody goes to Singapore in the near future, but it is unmissable fun. The host was hilarious, and we were all like little children, clapping our hands and squealing with glee at the animals. But it’s nicer to not spoil the surprise, so I’ll leave it. After the show, we had another drink (I had my first cocktail, a Singapore Sling!), and an ice-cream. We left the zoo around 11pm, we’d arrived at 6:30pm, so it was a very solid nights entertainment. Then we went home, gave Diana and Philip our luggage and got ready for our impending trip to Ho Chi Minh!!

So that should have brought us up-to-date! Now for our evening here in Ho Chi Minh. After I finished my drunken rambling about how much I love Ho Chi Minh (my excitement hasn’t faded much yet!), we went downstairs for a meal (which was so hot that I burned my tongue!) and started the cocktail binge that would direct our night. Unfortunately, as we ate, it started to rain! I had only found out on the plane over that we’re in the Northern Hemisphere now, so it’s Winter. For some reason, because it’s the tropics, I thought we’d still be in hot weather! But it is hot, not humid, but we are experiencing sudden rain. It’s overcast today, but still lovely and warm, and I imagine it’ll clear up later this afternoon.
Anyway, so it began to rain, so we moved inside and began talking to some English tourists who had just come down from Hanoi and down the same trip we’re planning on doing. They were lovely, we chatted for at least an hour, and then, when the rain eased up, we went for a walk.
While we were sitting there, though, there was surprisingly little harassment from sales people. The main salespeople were booksellers, who were selling some damn good books, like “On The Road” and “Catch 22.” By the fifteenth time, it was tempting, but we still have heaps of books to read. If we were going to buy a book, though, it would have been from a young woman in a silky pink outfit, very pregnant, with a cute face. Her stack of books was smaller than everyone else’s, so we figured she was kicking sales-butt. Another hilarious moment was when a dodgy looking young man with a deep scar across his face came up to James and asked him if he wanted a lighter. Then, after James said no, the hawker lowered his voice and said “Opium? Cocaine? Marijuana?”. James laughed and said, “No, no.” Later we saw him again, and he only offered us Opium and Marijuana, so he must have sold the Cocaine!! There was also a boy, about 14 or 15, begging just outside our hotel, with a sleeping baby slung in an orange net around his neck. He didn’t hang around long. James said that he had heard someone once say that you should never give money to beggars with all their limbs in tact, because if they have arms and legs they can work. The baby was an interesting drawcard though!
The crowd of tourists in the hotel restaurant was fascinating as well. At one stage, James whispered with joy “Mullet!!” (oh, we’ve just found “Who Wants To Be A Vietnamese Dongianaire!!” It’s the Vietnamese Eddie Maguire!!! It’s even the same music! This is hilarious!! He’s locked in Le Thanh Thong, but we think it’s Lu Anh Tong. Darn. We were wrong. He won 15, 000, 000 Dong! Which is about $1000). Anyway. Mullet. So I turn around and see a big, tacky American guy in a chilli shirt with curly hair. I was like, “Man, that’s not a mullet!”. Then about fifteen minutes later, I turn around again and see the lady. Oh my God! Best mullet ever!!! Later, we were trying to figure out what key words they would have used to identify us for our bill, and we decided on “beard and big boobs” (you can guess which of us is which). Then James indicated the Americans and whispers “mullet and chilli shirt.” I almost choke on my cocktail. There is another couple playing cards in a corner table. The woman is quite prim, but she smiles at me when she notices me scribbling in my notepad. Oh yeah, and just before the rain kicked in, the rabbits opposite our hotel were trying to escape! Someone left the cage door open, and they were like “we’re outta here!” One was half way out when we let the wait staff know, and they were like “Aah!” One woman seemed quite scared by the rabbits near escape, but she chased them back into the cage. I think they could sense the rain, and wanted to go into better shelter. We also amused the waiter by getting him to teach us basic Vietnamese. He was very patient with my attempt to learn “thank you,” which James has perfected (I can only remember it by thinking “cow-men” as a pronunciation mnemonic). I’m better at remembering all the “hello” additions, because you have to say something different for older men, younger men, older women, younger women, and children (the older and younger is decided in relation to yourself). By this stage, I have also begun to perfect not making eye contact with hawkers. There is so much condensation on our drinks that when we lift them to our mouths our pants get quite soaked from the dripping water off the glasses and bottles.
After we’d sat in the hotel for awhile, we wandered around the block., looking for internet as we went to send emails to our mum’s (we call them “Mummy Mail”), to let them know we arrived safely in Vietnam. We stop for awhile at a bar called GO2 (little 2, as in oxygen). This is the most incredible place we’ve ever drunk. James says it’s the best place he’s sat ever in any holiday. We sat about 100 metres from the road, it was a busy intersection, with something constantly happening. We sat there for over an hour, just watching. People hawked, but they leave you alone pretty quickly after you say no (but they do come back four or five times in half an hour, as though they’ve forgotten they’ve already offered you their wares. The pregnant bookseller came past a few times while we were here). A street-sweeper passes wearing a leopard print jumpsuit, but covered in a plastic raincoat. When I saw street-sweeper, I literally mean sweeping with a broom. She looks up when we take a photo, but James hides the camera quickly. The air is both cool and warm at the same time, and the intersection is clogged with cables above our heads. It’s amazing the power remains running! Scooters and pedestrians walk around, but it’s not intimidatingly busy. Just fascinating. At one stage some whitey’s exchange some money with a scooter driver, but I don’t see what they get in return. I use my imagination. The local parents piggy-back or carry their children, there are no prams.
As we walk the streets, we realise quickly that if we catch the eye of sellers, we get called over and sucked in. It’s like sideshow alley at the Royal Show. We buy lychees, though, from an old woman carrying buckets over her shoulders on a rod. They are delicious! We only buy four, and we pay quite a bit for them, but it doesn’t matter. We don’t mind. It was 4000 Dong for four lychees, which is roughly about 0.40 cents.
In the end, we spent about $68 on our first day in Vietnam, which is too much, but we had a ball, and wouldn’t have changed a thing. We’re going to be more strict with ourselves from here on. Today we’re going to visit the war museum and the presidential palace. There are these weird breaks between 11-ish and 1-ish at nearly all tourist destinations, so we decided to take it easy for the morning and head out around 12 for the after lunch hours of the museums. So I need to shower, and we need to head downstairs for some brunch. Until next time!

30th November, Bee-Saigon Hotel, Ho Chi Minh, 4:58pm

We left the hotel around 11am, and were delighted to discover that a free breakfast is included! Freshly made hot meal of your choice, plus a drink. I had orange juice and an omelette, James had a papaya shake and a noodle dish. His shake was so darn good, I ended up buying one as well, which was good because I think it helped us to sustain the day.
The plan for the day was to head toward the Ben Tranh markets, which are considered the best in Saigon. I’ve never, ever been to bartering country before, but I love it. It’s a strange sensation as you wander the markets and feel ghostly light touches on your arm as you pass, people saying “miss, miss, come buy, we have shirts all colours all sizes, 2 dollar, miss, miss!”. They grab at you as you pass, but it’s not invasive, it’s a very gentle, light stroking on your arm. Even still, it’s initially understandably unnerving. James powered past all the stores (more like powered through the stalls, because it’s so tightly compacted in. There’s only about ½ a metre to walk along, and, especially in the fabric stores, the good spill into this ½ metre aisle). At one stage, after I’d ignored a woman, she turned from saying “miss, miss!” to “hey, handsome man!”. James was chuffed, I think! My first bartering effort was successful, and, believe it or not, I really, really like it. I like bartering for small things, saving myself ten or fifteen cents, but I don’t think I’d be as good bartering for something more substantial. I bartered for a plate and two spoons (we figured that because we’re not eating many vegetables, we should eat more fruit, so we bought the utensils necessary to eat fruit in our room. The reason we’re not eating raw vegetables is because you can’t trust that they haven’t washed the fruit in their water, and if they’ve done that you can get very sick). Anyway, I bartered the woman down 5000 Dong (about 0.45 cents), which is nothing much, but still exciting! We did a joint barter for ½ a kilo of dried mangoes. We managed to get ½ a kilo for 60,000 Dong (about $5), which is a lot, but we have a crapload of dried mango now and it is soooooooooo yummy! We saved about $1 in total on that one. It sounds silly now when you realise how little you actually saved, but it was fun! James is happy to leave the bartering up to me, which I don’t mind. He can take the photos, I can beat poverty-stricken women with Agent Orange’d children out of five cents.
After the markets, we sat for a drink of water, where a strange young girl (aged about ten) served us water, then sat and sang songs to herself in Vietnamese. Off-tune, I think, but overall amusing.
We walked from the markets to the Reunification Palace, where the communists rolled in with their tanks and claimed Saigon. It’s footage of the war that everybody’s seen over and over. The palace has been left as accurately as possible. There were model tanks and a model fighter jet, but a genuine chopped on the roof. A young woman was our tour guide, her English was good but her accent was really think, and she had this mother of a pimple on her chin, and James and I were both so distracted by it that we often missed what she said.
But before the tour, we had to kill fifteen minutes waiting for the gates to open at 1 pm. We stood at the main gates for awhile, but started to be bothered by a young man hawking coconuts and a cyclo driver. We did a lap of the palace, which was much larger than expected, and on one side saw mysterious faecal deposits which I thought were human but which James insists weren’t. So now he’s Inspector Rex and Dr. Livingstone, with his knowledge of animal waste. I’m so funny.
Closer to the gate we bumped into a solo tourist, who asked us where the gate was. We got chatting and discovered he was Klaus from California, and he was one cool cat. He was very laidback and easy to talk to, and we wandered around the Reunification Palace with him. The palace was quite interesting; one of the best pieces of information was about a spy who flew a US plane, and then used it to bomb the palace. This man is now head of Vietnam Airlines!
Klaus’ plans for the afternoon were the same as ours, so the three of us walked from the Palace to the Saigon War Remnants Museum, which is notorious amongst tourists. It’s an unflinching, uncompromising display of the Vietnam War, and is apparently often tasteless and frequently stomach-turning. That being said, the English backpackers we spoke to last night had said it wasn’t as bad as they had expected. Still bad, but not as bad.
The museum was packed with tourists, and the backpackers were right, it wasn’t as bad as I expected, but still bad. We started simply by looking at the bombs and jets, and then we moved inside, where it got much more intense. It was mainly photos, but boy were they graphic. The most shocking photo was a GI holding up half a Vietnamese man’s body. Not even half. Just his head and an arm, being held together by the tattered cloth of his shirt. And the GI had a hint of a smile. All we could say was “it’s so fucked up, it’s so fucked up.” There were cabinets with guns, but the photos were the main feature.
Then we rounded a corner and saw The Display. The Agent Orange display, with real, deformed babies preserved in formaldehyde. There were two jars, one of Siamese twins, joined at the head, both with hairlips. The second was a baby with a deformed head. It’s chest was gaping from where there had been an autopsy. It didn’t feel gratuitous though, it just felt like a powerful message being sent to tourists over what happened to innocent people, especially innocent people who weren’t even born. There were more photos of young children smiling and waving, deformed from Agent Orange. And to think there was Super Agent Orange as well. It’s just so fucked.
Klaus took longer to look at the displays than us, and we were getting hot and thirsty, so we said goodbye and caught a taxi home. Before going, we purchased a cloth badge (we’re collecting patches from every city we’re in), and a genuine 1968 Mau Than Campaign badge for 4USD, which was a bargain and a half (looks genuine anyway! Not bothered if it’s not for that price)! Now we’re back in our hotel room, drinking and watching…have a guess…soccer! We spent less today, so we’re going to have a nice dinner, I think.
Also, we saw a woman selling rabbits, turtles and squirrels (hopefully as pets!), two to a cage. It is also very common in Ho Chi Minh to urinate anywhere you please, usually against a tree or wall. If you’ve gotta go you’ve gotta go, apparently! Even if you need assistance, as was demonstrated when I saw a mother crouching beside her two-year-old son, helping hold his penis and aim it at the tree. The crazy things you see in other countries!
Anyway, I think that’s all for our day. I had a shocking attack of heartburn earlier, and spent 10 minutes moaning in the shower. Serves me right for drinking on an empty stomach!

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