The Last Plane Out Hue’s Almost Gone
Wednesday 14th December, Binh Minh Hotel, Hue, 10:05 am
Our time in Hue has been brief but highly amusing. We caught up with Jamie again, which always results in adventures and new friends. He has this amazing ability to just chat to everyone; it’s the lawyer in him, but it’s more than that. I think people are just naturally attracted to him. He’s got a very warm smile, a quick wit and a very relaxed air about him. James and I just find him so easy to be around. No effort is required, it’s just always chilled out, fun and memorable. This might also be because Jamie also seems to have a habit of attracting highly hilarious characters (or weirdoes would be more appropriate). I hope we’re not those weirdoes. But the first thing he told us when we arrived in Hue (we had arranged to meet at a bar called the DMZ bar and Grill, and when we rocked up at around 8:30pm, it turned out he’d been there since about 2pm. Yet he never seems drunk. It’s quite admirable! Actually, this is really weird writing this knowing that Jamie will probably read it…because it’s like I’m writing for my friends who have no idea who he is, so I have to talk objectively third-person-ish, but then Jamie [you] will be reading this…I should stop thinking about this before my head explodes. So Jamie, I apologise to you for talking about you like you’re not here, but it’s all nice stuff, and I have to explain you somehow!). Anyway, the first thing he told us was that he’d met this really drunk English guy who he called “Monkey Boy” (and the name stuck). Jamie said “this guy is the type of guy you wouldn’t share a lotto ticket with; he’s so unlucky!”. Monkey Boy was in Hanoi, and he visited an island called Monkey Island. Where he got bitten. Three times. And then had to have a series of rabies shots, costing $200US per shot, not including the initial consultation fees of $1200US. He needed ten in total. Monkey Boy had said, “I was filming it, I’m going to send it into When Animals Attack! But the annoying thing is that I stopped filming just before I kicked the little bastard.” On top of this, Monkey Boy had had a firework explode in his face in Thailand when his friend set one off under an overhang and it hit the roof, fell down and exploded in Monkey Boy’s face. He had ringing ears for a whole day, and even now has slightly muted hearing in one ear. Okay, so it doesn’t sound that funny, the guy had a firework explode in his face and a monkey bit him, but if you met this guy…all I can do is hang my head and laugh. We met him later that night, and he even looked like a monkey. He had big ears, bigger bucked teeth and an under-bite. He had that English accent put on by comedians to make themselves sound funnier, and he just sounded dopey. He asked me if I was from Washington, and I said yes, and he said he’d been there, then I asked him if he’d been into the White House, and he said no, and I told him that was because you had to be president, and he seemed confused. So Monkey Boy was great entertainment for the night, but we did meet him when he was sober the next day and he was a really nice guy. His mate seemed pathetic and junkie-ish at the DMZ bar, but he was also on the tour the next day, and he was very friendly and entertaining as well. We also, bizarrely, met the man who had been our pilot from Singapore to Ho Chi Minh. His name was Paul, and I’d thought he was Australian, but he was South African. When he told us his name and the fact that he worked as a pilot for Tiger, we were like “YOU! You were our pilot!!”. He was very good, we congratulated him on our wonderful flight. Although it is alarming seeing your pilot blind drunk.
As the night progressed, we chatted to more people and met more people. We spent most of our time talking to three boys from Melbourne, and two American girls, Tanya (pronounced Tonya, so not sure of spelling) and Erica. Erica lived in Japan as an English teacher, and Tanya was a cook on a cargo ship. Tanya was an ace pool player, and it was hilarious watching the boys drooling over her. She ignored them all; she was very cool and friendly, but managed to avoid most unwanted attention. Erica was safe; she was talking to James most of the night (and whenever I tried to join in, any story I was going to tell had already been told! How rude of James!!). Tanya was from Washington, hence Monkey Boy’s confusion, Erica was from Minnesota. The hilarious thing was that the next night we all went to the DMZ again, and Jamie started chatting to this Brisbane girl with the most irritating voice I’ve ever heard. Nasal, but attempting to be smooth. I shudder. Anyway, she was staring at him unblinkingly, so hooked on his every word. Occasionally she flicked a look my way, despite the fact that I was clearly with James. When we told Jamie the Brisbane girl was keen, he was completely surprised. He hadn’t had a clue. Not even when she had said, “You were playing pool with a really pretty girl last night” (meaning Tanya). Jamie had just kept talking, thinking nothing of it, but I heard the Brisbane girl bring the conversation back a few times to find out more about Tanya. I don’t blame the Brissie girl, though. Jamie doesn’t wear a wedding ring (he doesn’t wear any jewellery of any kind), but he’s not a flirt. The ladies just love him because he’s good looking and talkative. He never leads them on, and they usually give up fairly quickly, but it’s amusing watching them try while he chats on, oblivious to it all.
We left the bar around 12:30, and drunkenly woke all the night-staff up to book the three of us tickets for a tour to Khe Sanh (Jamie stayed at the bar, so we had to explain that we were booking three tickets, despite there being two of us there). Eventually we got it sorted, and went to sleep knowing we had to be downstairs by 5:30 a.m.
Surprisingly I didn’t feel too bad at 5:30. Maybe because I’d gotten up at 5:30 the day before as well. We waited downstairs for the bus (Jamie managed to wake up, miraculously, despite only three hours sleep), and had coffee and checked our email. We weren’t even sure that we could have tickets, but they managed to squeeze us on, which is where we saw Monkey Boy and his friend, sober, and generally nice guys.
The bus kept breaking down. After about 1 hour, we stopped at a mechanics where they had to change our tyre. We talked about eggs. Monkey Boy entertained us with a story about how his first fight had started because a guy smashed his egg that he was looking after. The main core of conversation was between Jamie, James, myself, Monkey Boy and his friend, and a couple of women from America who were most likely a couple. They were both academically-minded, with the older woman, Fiona, teaching at Illinois University in Asian-American studies. Erin was a performance artist, and they were both lovely women. We had a lot of good belly-laughs on the tour, despite the fact that most of the bus slept for a lot of it. Keep in mind the tour was 6am to 6pm, so we all fell asleep pretty quickly. I had a sweet set-up using James arm as a pillow. Our tour guide was fantastic; really talkative and informative, and when we asked questions he tried hard to answer them properly, rather than just giving a scripted answer. His English was excellent, and at the end this English guy did this lame “slip him the tip” thing with a handshake which made James and I giggle.
We saw a bridge which separated North and South Vietnam, a rock pile, which was a pile of rocks Americans used, and then we went to an underground village. But, of course, I panicked after taking two steps into the tunnel, and backed out. I stayed in the museum, thinking they would come back there, but then this intellectually disabled guy found me. He couldn’t speak a word, and he grunted and grabbed at me. Then he drooled, a big glob of drool dropping out of his slack-lipped mouth. I was like, “I’m sorry, I don’t understand what you’re saying.” Then he asked for money. I said no. He grabbed my watch, made a driving motion, then basically pushed me out of the museum, grunting and drooling. I was a bit freaked out, so I was like “okay, okay! I’ll go back to the bus!” And he grunted and started to run, motioning for me to follow. I walked, but he had to take three steps for my own because he was tiny. When I got halfway, I saw the tour guide, who was really stressed and cross with me. He said, ‘I told you to follow me!” which made me angry, because I shouldn’t have to go into tunnels if I’m not comfortable doing that. So I got quite defensive and angry as well. But then I got on the bus and my group (the girls, the Monkey boys, Jamie and James) said “where are the others??”. Apparently there were five people missing in the tunnels, so no wonder the guide was stressed!! Eventually, after about ten minutes, the five were found. They had lost the group, and ended up out some random exit, but they were okay.
After the tunnels, we went for lunch (no chicken, no egg now. The further North we get, the less chicken products we can have). Then we went to Khe Sanh. I sang Cold Chisel to James the whole way. In all honesty, I have nothing much to say about Khe Sanh. It was pretty uninteresting. There was a plane, a tank, and a museum with nothing too thrilling in it. And two men selling old medals and bullets. We took photos, we sang more Chisel, we left. After using the worst toilet in Vietnam. But when you’ve gotta go, you’ve gotta go!!
On the drive back we saw another bridge with no real historical significance except that Fidel Castro helped fund it. Some scrawny ugly kids asked for money for us to take photos of them. We were like “at least be cute if you want to do that to make money!!”.
We got back to the hotel around 6:30, and I was really, really ready to just collapse in bed. I never sleep properly on buses, but I got the closest ever once I figured out the set-up with James arm.
Before we went for dinner and drinks to send Jamie off, we stopped to check our email. Two great pieces of news! 1) we’re in the draw for World Cup tickets for Australia/Japan and Australia/Brazil!! How awesome is that? We mightn’t get it, but who cares, at least we have a chance. 2) I won some award at uni for being top of my class in something, but I don’t know what yet. I’ll find out on Friday, after mum collects the award for me, so I’ll let you all know then.
We went to DMZ, it was pretty boring, so we left around 10:30, and agreed to meet Jamie for breakfast in the morning. Which we did. And the food was good. And there was much laughter and hilarity. But then, alas, it was time to part ways. It was kind of strange, actually. We’ve gotten so used to having someone to meet out at pubs and to have dinner with, it was a little sad to say goodbye! But we’ve had an awesome time with him, and it’s definitely made the last few cities way more memorable. I obviously can’t say whether we’d have had as good a time if we hadn’t met him, but I doubt it. Now, as we joked over breakfast, James and I have lost our poor child again. We’ve got no one to live vicariously through; Jamie’s drunken exploits were always so fun to hear the next day! Although the winner is from Hoi An, when he woke up in a house in the middle of nowhere, and there was a grandma pottering around the house who didn’t even look at him. I have a vision of him waking up, adjusting his clothes, giving a little cough, saying “uh, thanks,” and then just walking out. He says he just stood outside the house, thinking “left or right??”. He got back to the hotel eventually. At 4pm the next day. Jamie tells these stories much better than me, so Jamie, if you feel compelled to add a comment which describes anything I’ve skimmed over in more detail, I’d appreciate it.
We’re catching the night train tonight, to Hanoi. We’ve got a soft sleeper, so we’re going to sleep our way to Hanoi. After the 14 hours to Hoi An by bus, we’re going to try to avoid such a long trip again for as long as possible. It’s meant to be sunshine in Hanoi at the moment as well. Yay!