VN6 - Marble Mountain and Da Nang

The rain which had been imminent for days finally arrived, and as we headed out into the drizzle this morning Lou asked for my room key. I hadn't realized "We're leaving at 9" meant leaving the hotel.... forever. After learning that fact, I then learned I could repack my bags in under 60 seconds! Exciting start to an exciting day.

The main event for the day was Marble Mountain... I had ascertained that it was not a mountain full of marbles, but nothing beyond that. However, as we drove into some city [turns out it we were back in Da Nang], I saw some stunning upthrusts of rocks dominating the city skyline, turns out the biggest conglomeration is Magic Marble Mountain! If there was any doubt, the dozens of shops selling marble ranging from jewelry to life-size dragons confirmed it. The first tickets we bought were for the cave within Marble Mountain, which we then learned were not tickets for the mountain itself, which required a different ticket. Definitely confusing, but at $1 a pop hard to be upset over.  Mom and Stepdad took the elevator to the top, and Lou and I set off on the hiking trail. Which was stairs. And they were sizable, both in quantity and quality, each step far taller than a step should be.  We quickly arrived at the what I thought was the top, and it turned out to be a landing, with a shrine, pagodas and sculptures made of the marble of MM itself. Next came another long flight of stairs, at the top of which we found a trail slanting upward... to more stairs!

Luckily, the drizzle hadn't intensified any, and except for making everything slick, the rain was actually pretty nice - nature taking care of my evaporative cooling so I didn't have to sweat. If only nature would throw in some extra oxygen.... Anyways, the trail finally leveled off and we passed through an arch constructed in a cleft of rocks, entering a natural courtyard in the center of the mountain. And in that courtyard there were... more stairs! However, it was a short set (only the equivalent of 2 stories or so), leading into a cave. Of course we had to do it.  The first cavern was a room-sized opening with a buddha (and a few bats) inside, where we joined a queue for the squeeze to the next chamber. This tight passage (which we had to climb up, of course) lead to a larger room which stretched 60' overhead to break through the top of the mountain, forming a natural skylight that only let in a misting of drizzle. As we admired the room, I spotted a waver of light slipping in from a crack in the back.

There's no signs indicating that we should head this way, but that's only encouragement in my book. Some slightly technical climbing over slick marble later, I emerged onto the topside and found a path! I shouted down that it was a real thing, and soon Lou (and another family) all emerged to join me. This path was short, almost flat, and lead to the peak of the mountain. We were flanked by the other mountains in the MM family, had the city spread out beneath us, and the ocean pounding the shore beyond that.  We hung out on top, standing on sketchy wet rocks, taking pictures (of course), and just enjoying the summit, but eventually it was time to head back down.

We stopped by another overlook (where we watched parents that shouldn't have been climbing on wet rocks struggle to pass a small child up to a 100' drop....), swung by another cave (really more of a giant alcove, of course with an equally immense buddha), and made our way past the far entrance of the courtyard to the central branching-point of the MM family. From here, we followed the signs to the next mountain! The main path lead to another alcove, which contained an entrance to another cave. Once we rounded the corner in the cave I was stunned. The main cavern was the size of a cathedral. There was even a full-sized shrine built inside of it, which only took up a single corner of the cavern. Truly impressive and awe-inspiring. And of course some stairs, but who cares when it's in the biggest cave I've ever seen in my life.  If you ever find yourself in Da Nang, definitely check out MM, and try to hit the caves smallest-biggest like this.

Exiting the cave, we only saw 2 trails headed up, one which said "Highest peak" (didn't we do that?), and one which was unlabeled, heading up the second mountain. So we took that trail! It headed out past the restrooms and got narrower and less travelled, until we were ducking under very wet bushes and relatively sure this wasn't part of the tour. Turns out, we were right. We passed a rubbish dump with an amazing view before the trail circled back to the base of the "Highest Peak" trail.  Oh well, nothing to it but to do it. 

Steep, wet, offsize, brutal.

It sucked. Hundreds of thin, steep, and slippery steps. Lou (like usual) ran on ahead, and I didn't fight it. I was painfully reminded that I need to run more, but luckily the hypoxia has mostly blocked the climb out of my memory. Was it worth it? Probably. We arrived on the top of the mountain adjacent to our previous summit, which unlocked the slice of the panorama that had previously been blocked. Plus, I have a deep-seated compulsion to get to the tops of things. If there's a mountain, I want to summit. If there's a 'bando, I want to roof it. A week ago when Santa was riding around my neighborhood on a firetruck, I was up on the peak of my house looking for him. Anyways, then we had to go down all those steps.  If there's another sign that says "Higherest peak", I'll let Lou run that trail solo.

Having taken all the "up" trails, that only left the down trail. We wound our way down the mountain, taking the long route wherever possible. This lead us past a number of shrines, look-out points, and pagodas - all of which we hiked up to (and it was always up to). Eventually we ended up in a graveyard which spit us somewhere behind MM. After a quick check of satellite view on google maps, we walked down someone's alley, cut through a trail behind someone's pig sty, and made it to the second entrance to MM. 

Lou was adamant that we should head back up to find her parents, but I advocated against climbing the entire mountain again, going so far as to offer to buy a second set of tickets so we could take the elevator. Anything that meant I didn't have to climb the mountain a third time. She eventually acquiesced after talking to a ticket-checker, and we walked 5 minutes down the road to the elevator, and as we arrived the drizzle escalated to a downpour. We were just in time to hide under the awnings and wait for her parents to descend. I checked my phone and was flabbergasted to find that we'd only done 3 miles - it felt like at least twice that. [Looking it up, we climbed (and then descended) 3000' in those three miles.]

Reunited at the base, we then went over to the first cave we'd accidentally bought tickets for. There were several flights of stairs to get in, but if this cave is so good they can sell standalone tickets for it... it's gotta be good, right? We all headed up, climbing the stairs and crossing a bridge into the mountain -  over a pond filled with koi fish swimming between grasping arms stretched towards us.  Another 100 feet in, and this cave is even bigger than the last! It felt slightly less grand, but I think that's because it was traded width for length. Like the last megacave, there were skylights (with rivulets), and it too had an enormous buddha gracing the end. Unlike the last cave, this one had side passages. The first went down. Oh well, what are we gonna do, not see what's down there? Lou's parents (smartly) decided to wait up top, and we went down so many more stairs, passing sculptures of torture the whole way. Lou explained they were representations of the afterlife for specific sins. Thieves, pimps, children who dishonor their parents... a unique punishment awaits us all. At the bottom, another buddha! You're supposed to reflect on your misdeeds and feel contrition at the bottom, but I was mostly reflecting on the fact that I had to reclimb all those steps.

More sketchy step!

Back in the main chamber, the second side-passage went up! What's another flight or two among friends? But like every other staircase in this mountain, it lead to another (bigger) staircase! A super sketchy, dripping wet staircase, bordering on scrambling and requiring all four limbs for portions,  it eventually dumped us out, calves burning, on a small balcony half way up MM. The view would be impressive if we hadn't just done MM itself,  but the comparison and the anticipation of the descent made it kinda meh. So we buckled down and tackled all those stairs in reverse, squeezing past the people headed up.

But we did it! And with Magic Mountain completed and thoroughly damp clothes, we went to lunch. Some noodles with beef and peanuts, good but pretty typical at this point. Local specialty for the town we're in, of course. 

Our new hotel in Da Nang is surprisingly fancy. We checked in, and as always in these case I hoped for the largest room-number possible.... and got it. We had rooms on the 17th (and highest) floor, overlooking the river and the dragon bridge. I walked in, threw open the curtains, and it's excellent, very similar to Huizho.  My legs were done, everyone was tired, so it was naptime / reading time.

After an hour or so of recovery, I went out wandering with Lou to "see what was in the area". Apparently what was in the area was searching for a selfie stick... it sounds like a joke, but instagram addiction is a full-time job. Regardless, it was nice to get out and see a new town. Selfie-stick acquired (and tested), we headed back to the hotel and off to dinner.

Dinner was equally typical, and it was on our way to the boat! Tonight we're taking the boat to see the dragon... yes, the dragon we can see from our hotel-room, but dragon-boats are the thing to do in Da Nang, and we're gonna do it. A short (2km) walk later, and we arrived at the docks. I had assumed a sedate pleasure-cruise, but instead there were a fleet of two-story sightseeing boats festooned with lights and blasting music. Right before we left, the music kicked up to near-painful decibels and a bellydancer shimmied her way up and down the aisles. I'm still not sure why.

Finally underway, everyone was just sitting in their seats.... It was up to me to show these people how to boat! So I wandered around the ship, ultimately descending the stairs to the bow, where I was soon joined by others. And as we pulled up to the dragon bridge, joined by half the tourists on the ship. The dozen+ ships from the docks began lining up, all pointed towards the dragon, and all the sound systems ramped up expectantly.

NGL I just stole this pic off the internet. 

The dragon bridge has a special talent. Every evening each weekend, at exactly 9pm, it breathes fire. 9pm struck, and a huge jet of fire erupted from the dragon's mouth. We're talking 40' of diesel flamethrower.  Not quite as large as I'd expected given the size of the dragon, but flamethrowers are a passion of mine, so I'm not complaining. After several minutes of spurting flames, the dragon switched to smoke (or water?), and the boats started booking it back up the river, in what essentially became a race. The ship beside us cut our stern while both under full steam, coming within a meter of a collision - which may have impressed me more than the dragon itself.

Out of curiosity, I started counting the boats. I got to ten, then walked to the stern where I counted another ten behind us. The ships docked, stacking themselves two-deep alongside the pier, and we disembarked while our belly-dancer waved us goodbye and pointed us to the exit gate.

Another 2km back to the hotel, broken up this time by a stop for icecream! Cacao was the best flavor and durian the worst by far. By so far.

Back at the hotel, Lou invited me to go walk to the night market, but 20k steps / 9+ miles is enough for a day, especially when it half of them were stairs. So instead I'm typing in our room, across from an old Vietnamese dude who is falling asleep while watching tiktok... at full volume.  Luckily I think I'm tired enough even that won't keep me up.

VN5- Mỹ Sơn

 VN5 - Mỹ Sơn 

Do you know how great it is to sleep for 8 hours? In a room your only sharing with a single person, and that person is a chill old-dude who doesn't jump on your bed or stay up all night texting? We can't speak to each other, but me and step-dad understand each other on a level far deeper than words. 

After a continental breakfast, we went over to the shopping district "because there's no cars allowed early morning so it won't be crowded".  And when we got there... there was a professional photographer waiting for us! Surprise! Well, I was surprised. Stepdad may have been, he was wearing the shirt from yesterday, but he may also not give a fuck. Which I respect. Mom had her wig though, so I don't think she was surprised...

I was initially amazed that I was replaced less than 12 hours after I quit, then slightly resentful, but as it wore on... it was actually awesome. We got all the instagram done in an hour, I didn't have to do any of it, AND this is his specialty - he has connections with local business owners that have the colorful instagram friendly displays, he knows all the spots (this wall, that alley, the elementary school doesn't open until noon and has a huge mural behind the basketball court...) I think he even got a good shot of me, sitting on the railing of a coffeeshop's roof-bar, but I haven't seen the images yet.  And of course, he'd pass other photographers, en route to all the same spots. I think they have a cartel. Regardless, 5/10. Any insta-boyfriend who is sick of it should absolutely call in a pro and take the demotion to porter.  

Now that the priorities are taken care of, time for the main event of the day - Mỹ Sơn.  Our driver took us out across the rice paddies and farmland to the ancient city of My Son.  When I was told we were going to an old city I was picturing 1940s, maybe 1800s... and I was off by a Millenia. Mỹ Sơn is essentially a smaller Angkor Wat, built by the same mélange of Indian-Buddhist-Shaiva mélange of peoples who built the temples across India, Thailand, Cambodia, and - to my surprise - Vietnam!

With the exception of a single mud-temple in Peru, and a dirt ring in Ireland, every other ancient structure I've seen has been stone. But the Champa people were brick-builders. So these temples are made of bricks (the same size and color as modern bricks) laid from the 4th to 13th century. They're also pretty run-down, damaged by rain, time, and the Vietnamese war, but it's remarkable they're standing at all.  Many of them have been rebuilt, and we spent a few hours walking between them, into them (They're not that large... Lou asked "How can they live in a house so small?" I asked "isn't this the same size as your apartment in Saigon?").  At one point, we veered slightly off-piste to an unexcavated structure. It was outside the temple wall, so maybe it's not important enough to restore, maybe it's too damaged, or maybe they just aren't there yet. No matter why, it was still cool to go climb this 1000 year-old heap of rubble barely distinguishable from a hill, and see what the restoration teams started with. 

It was a lot of walking, but anything that old automatically gets points, and when the clouds lifted you could occasionally get good views of some beautiful mountains - which is what My Son translates too. Not only did it not rain, despite the constant threat, I wasn't even asked to take a single picture. 7.5/10

Lunch was was a slice of tuna over rice, and then back to the hotel. The older generation opted for naptime, I'm catching upon blogs, and Lou is off... wandering? Trying to configure her drone?? Dunno.

<Break>

As the sun was setting, we headed back out to see all the boats, much earlier than last night.  The bars all have their music at reasonable volumes, and the river is carpeted in colorful boats like fall leaves floating down a stream... if all the leaves glowed. An Hoi is truly beautiful at night, even if you have to weave through the crowds for the views. We walked down to the park where the boats started, and Lou launched her drone and immediately handed me the controls. My previous refusal to be her photographer was immediately rescinded and I took to the skies. A month ago I decided that drones were going to be my next hobby, so I hooked my remotes into my PC and I've flying virtual drones for the last month to practice... For my first-ever real flight, I immediately headed out over water and flew 100 yards downriver over hundreds of people, where I got a low-battery warning. But it flew just like the simulator, and I was so comfortable I canceled the auto-return-home so I could control the shots on the way back to us.  Probably not the recommended first flight.....  We swapped out the battery for a fresh one, which let me send the drone well out of sight, but we had great signal integrity and gorgeous views.  Lou requested a few shots, and I did some nice complex-movement maneuvers coming back in.  Hopefully the footage looks as good afterwards as it did on-screen, because I'm gonna drop it here:

[IF LOU EVER SENDS IT TO ME]

Droning completed successfully, we all walked down the river, retracing our flight which lasted a few minutes in about a half-hour of weaving through the crowds. We wandered the night markets and eventually stopped for dinner (despite a very late lunch), and on our way back we played a traditional Vietnamese game... You pay a dollar for a card with 3 numbers on it, and then they sing a song, drawing numbered stick periodically. If you have a match, you get a flag, if you get three flags, you win!  So basically... Vietnamese bingo.  After a detour to a picturesque fountain Lou found during naptime, we made our way back to the hotel.   It's an early night, but I think we'll all appreciate it. 

Tomorrow, some mountain! 

VN4 - Tourism begins in An Hội

Another night, another 4 hours of sleep! Woke up feeling surprisingly ok at 4:55am, to Lou's mom flipping on the lights and yelling... and then apparently we weren't don't packing? I was done packing, but...   Anyways, headed out to the airport at 6, catching a foggy sunrise on the way (trips to the airport account for 90% of the sunrises in my life).  To my surprise, the airport part was headache-free. The domestic terminal is relatively small, the lines were short, and even escorting two elderly people on their third-ever flight was totally chill. 

The flight was somewhat-empty, and we were near the back, which meant I could jump to a window seat! This morning is going so much better than yesterday. We had a 1 hour flight, spent mostly soaring over the clouds that span the country, arriving in Da Nang before 9am.

Lou had a driver pick us up, and we set off towards An Hội- one of the oldest seaports in VN. I didn't know that at the time, nor did I know we were going to An Hội... I'm just along for the ride for most of this.  There were some excellent half-built and abandoned highrise hotels on the way, but... I don't want to go to Viet jail. Lou says I can probably bribe my way out of the situation, but something to rely on, so I'm not gonna try. No promises though.

Before getting to An Hội, we stopped for a basket boat cruise? tour? Experience.  Essentially, imagine a peaceful paddle through a beautiful grove of coconut trees, except a malevolent force is working their hardest at ruining canoeing.  Hydrodynamic stability? Hell no. We're making this boat perfectly circular. And since you can't reach both sides of the boat anyways, we're gonna give you (your guide) a single paddle.  Awkward, but doesn't leave you ruing rowing.  How about once we get out of the grove and onto the river, you join 100+ basket boats!  And then, because the boats are perfectly round, lets spin them as fast as we can! WHILE BLASTING GANGNAM STYLE OUT OF LOUDSPEAKERS ON REPEAT. The spinning was almost enjoyable and mercifully brief, so lets take another crack at attacking kayaking....  KARAOKE FLOTILLAS!  Up until now, I could sorta see the appeal, but the karaoke flotillas were a deeper level of hell than even Dante found. Once Beatrice (or a desire to afflict as many tourists as possible daily) finally pulled us out of there, we got our turns to paddle.  I could keep it generally moving the right direction, mostly with J strokes (the guides use a figure-8 while changing the angle of their paddle, pretty clever) - Lou immediately started the circle game right back up.  Add in a handful of photoshoots and overpriced pictures to top it off. Anyways, 3/10, definitely could be worse, and we've catapulted from too authentic into far too touristy. 

An Hội itself is a cute town on the river, and grabbed lunch (chicken and rice, the local specialty. It must be this specific version of chicken-and-rice, because that's been the staples on 4/5 of the continents I've visited). From there, it was only a few minutes drive to our hotel - which is quite nice. Cute, riverfront, huge porch.... Not five-star or anything, but several steps up from your standard Holiday Inn or one-room apartment.  After we checked in and dropped off the bags (and used a restroom with a real door! walls that reach the ceiling!) we immediately set off to wander the town.

I couldn't have been more correct about tourist-land, and the local town is almost entirely restaurants, bars, knickknack shops, and bars. And then street vendors for all the above. We did see Lai Viễn Kiều Bridge, built in the 1590s to connect the Japanese and Chinese sectors of town, celebrating the  relationship between An Hội and Japan (and the money coming out of the mercantile fleets docking here), which is mostly famous because it's on the $20 bill. Throughout this (and the canoeing), Lou had me take dozens of pictures of her for instagram or whatever kids are doing these days. And she doesn't like the pictures I take of her because "they make her look short" (spoiler: she is short), so she would set the zoom, set the exposure, tell me exactly where to hold the camera, how to angle the lens... everything.   And then she'd complain that I'm a bad photographer, even though she's reduced me to a barely-sentient tripod. Hey! There's that familiar lack of sleep. 

We spent a few hours on this fool's errand of a walking tour, seeing the same gimmicky shops (and bars, obvs) for blocks and blocks and blocks on end. Finally, we had to return to the hotel to prepare for the final event of the day. Preparation, for me, meant caffeine, that blessed little pill of tolerance and happiness. We're going to a show! Like... a play or something.  Not really my cuppa, but this entire trip is a very intentional push out of my comfort zone and normal experience, so I'm still gonna send it.  We walked the mile-or-so there, Lou running on ahead while I paced the old woman with short legs at the back of the pack. Even taking a sketchy shortcut through an alley and across a field, it took almost an hour, but several bridges later, we arrived on An Hoi Memory Island.

Except for the lack of rides, this place is basically Disneyland! "A Land of An Hội Memories" or something like that.... What I thought was a play is actually 15 dance numbers! After a quick introduction medley of dances, we entered the park and grouped up for a fun martial-arts demo... then we wandered slightly further into the park to a kung-fu dance battle between a knife-fighter and an extremely athletic tiger! This repeated throughout the night, with different subsets of the 20 or so dancers putting on 14 numbers, ranging from beautiful (a ballet romance between the wind and the moon) to the bizarre (the anime jump-rope dance-off, a geisha show hosted by a drag queen), with most falling somewhere in between. They all finally wrapped up about an hour before the final show, and conveniently, there were restaurants throughout An-Hoi-Memory-Land! Whoever is behind this idea, they're really good at what they do. Bahn Mi is still great, so dinner was a success, and finally, it was time for the last show. 

And suddenly, instead of the two score patrons we'd spent the last few hours with, there were hundreds of people streaming through the park, heading towards the final stage.... which was much bigger than any other building on site. This last number is apparently a different beast from the previous, as once we got inside, the final set seemed to be the size of a football field. Maybe I'll pull up the satellite imagery and check, because it's that big, you can see it from space [Editors note: Satellite imagery puts the stage at exactly 1.31 football fields in size]. I started to drift off before the show... but as soon as I closed my eyes Lou slapped me in the face... I'm not sure why and normally wouldn't include that part, but it makes for good foreshadowing.  The show itself was a total spectacle with ~100 dancers, and made use of a pond in the front as stage, prop, and reflecting pool. The whole show was designed with large-scale aesthetics in mind, and took us through the history of An Hội as a metaphor for life, with fleets of boats, glowing props, costume changes, beautiful music, and a total ban on photography of any sort.... so check out this link. There was even an elephant... but of course it wasn't life-size. It was way bigger.

Afterwards, we tried to book a cab home. But cabs aren't allowed onto the island, which is totally fine because they have a fleet of shuttles. Stretched out golf-carts that will drop you off at any of your hotels for ridiculously cheap. So even better than a cab, and Memory-land is raking in the profits. The whole Memoryland ecosystem is very well designed. TBH, I wouldn't even be surprised if our driver was one of the sailors dancing about lovers lost at sea. 10/10

Finally back at the hotel, Lou and I set off alone to see the nightlife. The riverside is filled with bars, and they are all blasting their music at each other, like the concept of volume=profits was lost in translation. Or they just assume we all loved the basket-boats and want to recreate that experience for all of the tourists out on the river. Speaking of, the river was filled with lantern-lit fishing boats, taking tourists out for a short cruise, so that the tourists can each launch their own little origami boat, lit with a candle. It's a beautiful scene, straight out of a romcom or instagram highlight reel. So of course we had to take instagram photos. And of course they were all bad. The caffeine gave up on me, and I gave up on being the insta-boyfriend. I refused to take any more bad pictures and decided to walk back to the hotel. Lou... I dunno, had to check her likes or something. Even walking at the grandma-speed my legs are locked to at this point, I left her miles (not literally) behind.  I give the boats 10/10, and the instagram 0/10.  I had a hot shower and made it through multiple pages of my book before sleep claimed me.

Vietcong 3: Tunnels

 Day 3 - Tunnels

There is a day where authentically local becomes too authentically local, and that day was this morning.  We started off the day with a breakfast of Pho around the corner, which sounds good, but "authentic" pho means they're throwing tripe (stomach) in there even if you order "Shrimp" (a noun which can be disappointingly singular).  

Actually, lets back up. I fell asleep at 3-something (maybe 4-something) in the morning, because living three deep in a one room apartment means the lights and noise don't stop until the last person goes to bed - especially when one of those people will pull the pillow off your face because she's video-chatting and wants to tease you for her friends.  Then we all woke at 6:30am because the lights and noise start when the first person rises... Hopefully that puts the rest of today's post in jet-lagged context.

The next flaw with authentically local is deciding to take the bus (meaning three busses) to save 90% over a taxi. 90% which is also known as $35 round trip. And this journey (along with the rest of the day) is undertaken while wearing stupid-looking rice-hats and carrying 3 bags full of food and water. Not backpacks or purses, bags you have to carry in your hands the whole time. An entire day's worth of groceries, because groceries are cheap, restaurants are expensive, and the price-gougers at the gift shop will charge you $0.35 for a bottle of water. 

Now we add the neighbor kid deciding to tag along. /Tai/ is 9 and was super excited, and his mom figured it was fine to send him off with Lou, Mom, and I. This was actually adorable and a great example of the close-knit community they have, so we can strike that from the "too-authentic" list.  Unfortunately, his teacher was unwilling to let him skip class today despite the educational nature of this outing, so we got a panicked call on the bus and hopped off a few stops down the line so his dad could scooter over and collect him. Anyways, the feel-good reprieve is over, back to the rant:

I know what you're thinking - there's an easy solution to all this! Sleep on the bus! That imminently reasonable suggestion is complicated by sitting shoulder-to-shoulder with strangers, the quality of the pavement (or lack thereof), the quality of the suspension (or lack thereof), and the propensity to use the horn as a greeting, a threat, a warning, or - and I swear I'm not exaggerating - at least once on a completely deserted stretch of road, just for the fuck of it. In case that wasn't enough, the turn signal is hooked into a siren. It's a polite siren, not as loud or as piercing as an emergency siren, but there's no other word for it, and apart from a few sporadic reprieves it spent the whole trip singing it's heart out. So I saw an interesting slice of life across the city followed by some great views of the farmland around Saigon. Rice patties, of course, but also a lot of oxen and rubber plantations. 

Finally (after another hike), we arrived at our destination: The tunnels of the Viet Cong! My first priorities were to find the gift shop, buy a coke, and pound it. The caffeine worked a treat, but it's worn off by now, so I wrote this back in the 3-hours-of-sleep temperament. You know, for authenticity.

The plan is to rewrite the rest of this when I'm not sleep deprived (or more likely the deprivation is masked with caffeine) but here's the notes:

Background: 100km of tunnels, started decades earlier for the previous war, US destroyed 10km, etc etc

1st was a diorama show. Massive diorama. All in Vietnamese obviously. Probably propaganda. But the diorama was hundreds of square feet, featuring smoke machines, airplanes and helicopters on wires, tanks driving around - it was super fun even if I didn't understand a word.

2nd was a short film, in terrible CGI, showing the tunnels. This one was definitely propaganda, but at least it had subtitles.

3rd was the walking tour:

•          replica period village
•          punji pits (they never mention biocontamination, apparently that's a step too far)
•          more replica villages
•          single short tunnel - slightly enlarged for tourists - you can duck over and walk decently
•          stop for lunch where we saved at least $2 by carrying everything all day
•          whatever at least the bags are slightly lighter now
•          the stupid hats came in clutch though, super hot out
•          landscape is reminiscent of  Pont-du-Hoc - craters everywhere

4th was a reenactment. They had a field full of broken tanks, and two Viet Cong soldiers stalked around the field between smoke machines, while speakers played the sounds of helicopters, bombs, and gunfire.  Suddenly, two American soldiers show up with m16s on the far side of the field. "I bet they die." Seconds later, they're shot by the plucky rebels, to cheers and applause in the crowd, ending the reenactment.  This was the end of the tour, and I was slightly disappointed we only saw one short tunnel, however: 

5th was the tunnel tour

         Apparently the tunnel tour was an on entirely different ticket! This one starts with us being assigned to various pavilions (we got the English language pavilion) to watch a propaganda film. Legit propaganda, no nuance.... Period footage of men smiling and planting rice with rifles on their back. Some small girl with a sniper rifle being awarded the "Status of Hero for Killing Americans" - No lie that's what it's called. 

         Finally, we finally came to the tunnel-tour! You start with a simple tunnel, only 8 meters long, and enlarged like the tunnel in the previous tour. Obviously a strainer tunnel to sort the tunnelrats vs the surface-rats, but at least it's what we came here for.

The second tunnel was about the same length, but with original dimension - including the opening. The tourguide pointed to the ground, where hidden under the leaves a small rectangle of wood was hidden. And it's small -  you lower your rifle in first, followed but your feet, body, head, and then arms. You need to do arms-last both to rotate your shoulders narrow enough to fit in, but also so you can replace the lid behind you.  If you're fat (or kitted out like a modern soldier), you're out of luck.  Not to mention, it'd be super easy to get shot doing any/all of this. The tunnel itself is duckwalkable, which is a slow and cumbersome process, but definitely easier than any legit spelunking. 

We then did a few more tunnels, these were long enough to feature multiple rooms/cubbyholes, artificial (and not period-correct) lighting, and definitely wore you out. One of these cubbyholes had a well (you didn't want to risk getting shot over potentially contaminated water). Luckily the off-shoots were blocked off so you couldn't get lost, but it would have been a maze back in the day - and these were all the top-level tunnels, during the war there were 3 levels of tunnels reaching 10m deep. These tunnels would let you out in various medical shelters and fighting pits - or occasionally craters.

Another photo Lou just threw in a groupchat :/

The last tunnel was the longest. A short start lead you into a large meeting room - which featured a punji pit in the corner.  Cleverly, this feature was because they knew American troops would automatically flank upon entering rooms, so a hiding a pit in the corner adjacent to the entrance had a 50% chance of eliminating an attacker. From the meeting room, you could take a short tunnel to the surface, or the long, tiny tunnel. Obviously, we took the long tunnel. Bear crawling was definitely easier than duck walking, though a few sections forced you to walk hands and knees. Again, one is reminded how utterly suicidal it would be to attack these.

This last tunnel spit you out at the end for the snack break, where they served Cassava  - the local delicacy. Cleverly, cassava - just like crawling through 100m of tunnels - makes you thirsty and they have water for sale right there! But we saved that $0.50 AGAIN.  And then mom stole the leftover cassava, slipping it into our bags and saving even more money.

We took a brief look at the kitchen so they could show off the smoke tunnels - which would cool and filter the smoke, allowing it to emerge 100s of meters away from the cooking fires - even so, they would only cook just before sunrise, so the smoke would blend with the early morning mists. And that wrapped up the tour. We retraced our morning route, hiking down to the bus stop and catching several rides back through the worsening traffic. Lou - like a true local - slept the whole way, 

Once back in the neighborhood we stopped by the parents of one of Lou's childhood friends, who have a stand selling coconuts full of coconut jelly. It was, for someone who likes neither coconuts nor jelly - better than expected but still gross.

We then said hi the boy we couldn't bring with us, who was still sad over missing out, and had a dinner at home, with cassava for desert. They were in a videochat with ??? in Vietnamese the whole meal, so I don't know if I said a single word the entire time.

We considered heading downtown for the NYE celebrations, but since we're already exhausted and we have an early flight tomorrow morning... we elected to stay in and pack. Possibly because mom would have murdered Lou. We did head out at midnight to walk a lap of the block with her sister, which was quite calm. We could hear some fireworks in the distance, we saw a handful of people chilling like ourselves, but everyone was largely at home and asleep - apparently Lunar New Year (3 weeks away) is the one that matters, and NYE is a non-event outside the bar districts.

Vietnam 2: Slightly less chaos

A quick breakfast pho, a stop to swap some currency, and visit to the mobile shop for a cheap esim ($8/month, 4gb/day, unlimited calls and texts!) and then back into the city on scooters, this time for some governmental paperwork. Yesterdays sandal shenanigans left me with a blister, so today I wore boots - and between the acclimatization, subconsciously learning to adjust my body position to the feel of the engine, and not worrying about losing a thong on the freeway, the ride was way more chill. I do have a new favorite part of the <emergent swarming behavior>: Traffic circles. The bigger and more complicated the better. Thousands of independent actors, reacting to hundreds of stimuli multiple times a second, and all being fed back into the system in an infinitely iterative loop.  Anyways, enough bioinformatics nerd shit, on to government paperwork!

I wasn't allowed in the embassy, or consulate, or whatever it was, so I found a park attached to a nearby bank and posted up with my kindle, enjoying the shade and rubbing fountain water on my arms to stay cool. After a few chapters, Lou emerged from the bureaucracy with a form directing her to another branch of the bureaucracy. We made our way over, and then I settled in with a book for what was sure to be hours of good reading... However I was only a few pages in when she emerged! Apparently you can pay people to deal with the paperwork for you, and they deal with the lines and the forms - and just like that we suddenly had hours of unscheduled freetime!

So we went to the old presidential "palace"! An iconic structure straight out of Vietnamese history and featuring prominently in the War, it's now open for tours and taking selfies at! Apart from the inspired architecture (the house forms several Vietnamese characters from certain angles, in addition to catching the breezes and sunlight from every side), the first thing we noticed was the quantity of tiktoks and instagrams being captured in the front yard, most in full ceremonial dress. As an outsider, it's an odd perspective to see this stark reminder of "defeat" being treated as a stunning symbol of victory and perseverance. but I'm probably reading too much into this. The important part is it's a good excuse and an aesthetic backdrop. 

After checking out the soviet tanks (known for barreling into the yard) and the US fighter jet (known for being stolen from an airbase by a brave hero of the revolution and bombing the palace) we headed inside to check out the staterooms, meeting rooms, living quarters, etc of the palace. While the history was cool, it's a stunning blend of 1960s/70s modernist architecture blended with traditional Vietnamese, Chinese, and Japanese design principals. And the interior was just as full of sleek design work - especially in the furniture. Classic examples of mid-century modern woodwork abound, and I was more into them than the history.  We wound our way up to the roof, where they have a Huey parked on the roof, next to two red circles denoting the bombing run of the aforementioned F4 fighter. Technically the last chopper out of Saigon was at the US Embassy, but the evocation is powerful and hard to miss. 

On the way down we exited through the bunkers, a set of radio-chambers, armories, shooting ranges, and bedrooms staggered beneath 1m and 2.5m of cement, all well preserved. The classic Mercedes alongside was a good reminder that the "Reunification Palace" (as it is now known) is as much flaunting the spoils of war as a museum. That's an aspect of most museums if you think too hard about it, communists just seem to be more blatant about it.

After the palace, the tickets also got us into a château on the property for an exhibition on the history of the palace, as a lens to review the history of the country from French colony to dictatorship, assassination, and civil war. To be honest, there was little architecture and no furniture so we skimmed the exhibits and quickly moved on.

Having experienced this amazing "touristy" site, Lou wanted to hit more touristy things she'd never seen. The iconic post office is now a tourist trap, and we tried to book a tour-bus around the city but that was a bust due to the timetables. So we went to the Cathedral! Which is closed for renovations. So we went to the famous opera house! Which won't let you in if you don't have a ticket for a show....   Having exhausted the classic "Tourist" things in the city center, we decided to do the "touristy" thing all the locals are doing: Riding the metro.

The very first metro line opened last week, and the second stop is at the opera house! Since it's free for the first month to drum up interest and sell the idea to the masses - everyone is riding it, posting about it (and the need for deodorant) on social media, etc etc.  So we took it out to the end and back! Growing up outside DC, I've been riding the metro since I was in a stroller... which made it cute to see all the first-timers board, form orderly lines facing forward, and grab one handle apiece. Luckily it also means they didn't know the best seat in the house: Very back of the train, so you can look out in all three directions. The line starts off underground, so check out this sweet video. Is this an idea I stole from some random guy in an airport last year? Absolutely. But look how cool it turns out:

After the first three underground stops, the train switches to elevated rails and soars across the city. We took it out all 10 stops to the end, hitting a max of 89.9kph between stations (according to the dashboard), and getting a great overview of how city fades from metropolis to industrial to housing and education as you head out of the city. Honestly, better views and more fun than any bus-tour.  Once we made it to the last stop.... we stayed on-board - along with the vast majority of our fellow riders - as the train switched directions to head back into the city.

On the way back we figured we should pick one stop (metro is free!) to check out, so we picked the waterpark which had an artificial mountain with a giant face on it. The park was closed for the season, but that didn't stop us from taking dozens of pictures for Instagram, just like the locals. What I said before about the symbiology of victory as a cultural backdrop and the psyche of instagram... nah. Totally wrong. Every time the train rolled into a station, there were at least a dozen camera-phones clicking. There were tiktoks being filmed on the platforms, with or without the train there for context. One family got on the train just to take some instagram shots holding the handles and got off at the next station. Turns out any excuse is a an excellent reason, the Vietnamese love taking pictures. [I ran this by my local cultural consultant who said "it's not racist, it's just true."  She's getting a manicure from her sister, while both she and a neighbor are filming.]

As we headed back into the city the train filled to the brim. Not quite as bad as Japan, but very nearly reaching those levels, and we exited the train at the first station (with this cool roof!) in a tide of humanity.  From there, it was back onto scooter-taxis and back home.

The dinner plans were 1) family style at home, and 2) later, go out with friends for food.  For family dinner one of Lou's school friends came by, and we all ate at her mom's apartment (off the same alley). Mom cooked chicken (one of "her chickens"), served with rice and vegetables. As always, they piled food into my bowl, and I did my best to politely eat it all, though I did graciously decline the butt and feet. After some fruit for dessert, another of Lou's friends came by and we all jumped back on the scooters. Quick trip, but at one point my driver asked "do you trust me" before executing a 3-point turn and heading into oncoming traffic - apparently we'd missed our turn by a block. And just like that, we pulled up on the sidewalk, sat down under an awning, and bam, second dinner. 

I was still stuffed, but tried it all anyways. Prawns and clams are still delicious, snails are still gross. Plus one octopus dish that I swear I had constantly in Thailand, but this was made with Mango, not Papaya, which apparently makes it definitely a Vietnamese dish and not at all Thai. I spent most of the dinner following the conversation through snatched loan-words and gestures, but it was still a fun time hanging out with friends / experiencing the more traditional night life. 


Friend: <Serves some octopus>
Brice:  "Thanks"
Lou: "No, use your Vietnamese!"
Brice: "Your mother's a whore"*

*Probably, they still won't tell me what it means.

One post-script: I grabbed a shower (in the closet), and mid shower the whole family came to our room to hang out... they passed me my clothes over the wall, laughing something about traditional Vietnamese experiences.

Vietnam - Chào(s)

Multilingual puns! Chào means "hello" <or something close> in Vietnamese!

Travel to Asia was, as always, terrible. 16 hours to Korea, a layover just long enough to hit a restroom, and then another 6 hours. All in middle seat purgatory.  Arriving in Ho Chi Minh City (hereafter referred to as HCMC or Saigon), there was another hour or so of immigration. Lou was waiting for me (with some friends), up in the reception area, which luckily meant she could direct me to her suitcase via text, because I'd totally forgotten what it looks like.

Driving to her place, my initial impression is.... very similar to China or Thailand, but with a way better nightlife - it's well past midnight, but there are still people chilling on the sidewalk at various bars/restaurants - though this falls off as we get away from the airport and into the residential districts.  Arriving at her apartment, we're faced with a gated alley in total darkness. If my GPS had lead me to an air-bnb here, I'd nope out and find a hotel, but my life is in Lou's hands, so we're going for it.

Lou's place is a classic Vietnamese single-room apartment. A concrete box approx 100sqft (10'x10') and 11' high, consisting of a futon, a desk, a sink, a washing machine, and a closet with 5' walls that contains the toilet and shower. Upstairs (well, up a ladder that hinges away when unneeded) is a loft with another futon and some wardrobes. The loft is just over 6' high, which is a blessing, because it means I only have to duck between for the support beams.   For a poor family, this would be home for 4-5 people.  This is a bolt-hole I've only experienced in cyberpunk literature: 4 walls, no windows, and a sheet-metal door secured by a padlock when you're away and a deadbolt when you're asleep.

I took a quick shower (squatting on the floor to fit), and passed out on my futon pad.

Day 1:

After some broken dreams where I had to employ superposition to fit into an apartment, I finally settled into real sleep and woke up rested at 8am. Maybe. I really don't know what time it is, or really what time even means anymore.  Today is grandpa's deathaversary, so we woke up early and headed out to the street. While waiting for our car, we had breakfast, gossiped with the local women running their shops, and I met my future mother-in-law if (Lou has anything to say about it). Soon, however, our car arrived and we set off into the countryside. 

I wrote previously about how China has lost it's authenticity and isn't the China it was 10 years ago... Vietnam may be that China. I think there are even more scooters here/now, than there were there/then, and none of them follow any traffic laws. They're more akin to birds flocking or fish schooling. I feel like I could survive among them, being one of the fluid whole. That said I could not drive a car here, our driver knowing the local unspoken rules of the road, letting people merge, honking vociferously, and flashing his four-ways or brights at various times. In contrary to the US where a quick flash means "go for it, I see you", in VN it appears to mean "don't think about it, I'll hit you".

Once we escaped the city, the countryside reminded me more of Thailand's industrial districts than China. It's definitely unique from either of them, but my mind can't help but to attempt to triangulate this country among it's neighbors.

I thought we'd arrived at the house, but after getting out of the car we instead headed off down a narrow gravel trail, sized for a single moped, cutting between a swamp and a lemon-plantation (which is really just an organized and replanted swamp).  About an eighth of a mile in we crossed a canal to an artificial island (at least some sort of absence of liquid surrounded by a concentration of liquid) to the house itself.  Open to the elements, lots of shade surrounding it, it makes a lot of sense for the climate it's in.  Around the house were animals (two dogs and a bunch of chickens), and fruit trees (papaya, kumquat, and banana).  I was immediately roped into picking some kumquats because I could reach higher than anyone else, and we paid our respects to Lou's grandfather - a memorial was set up with paper goods, foods, incense, and photos of him and his ancestors.   Then we settled in to wait for the incense to burn out, giving the spirits enough time to eat.... at least, that's the idea. In practice, we waited a bit and then relocated the incense and feasted. Egg rolls, chicken so fresh it was running around under that very table yesterday, noodles with shrimp, it was delicious.  I played the traditional game of not eating first so I could see how it was done, and they played the traditional game of making sure my bowl was never empty, and my cup was always full.

Mostly Lou's aunts and uncles, and a few neighbors from both the city property and the countryside -  including the English teacher I'm supposed to marry. Tamarins were ok but weirdly squishy and sticky inside; a chili pepper was acceptably hot on the first bite, but the second nibble made me want to cry. Lou's aunt chose me as her drinking partner, which mostly consisted of yelling Dzô! (pronounced YO!), or counting 1-2-3 and then yelling Dzô! It was fun. The whole experience was bizarre but charming and an amazing window into another culture. 

After the meal we wandered over to the local temple / community center / maybe someone's house? and then to the gravesite to see where grandpa was laid to rest. Finally, after a last round of drinks, it was time to head out. I rotated a few scooters for some of the aunties, and then we headed back to the car.  In contrary to the trip to the countryside and my first exposure to VN proper, the trip back can be summarized: "I hope we're close. I need to pee. This seems way longer. I need to pee soooo bad. I'm pretty sure I can't damage anything by holding my pee, just push through the suffering..."  When I was about to give up I finally reached to the rear-seats to wake Lou and ask for a status.... and luckily we were only two blocks away.  Anyways, I feel much better now.  

<break>

Lou made me download an app on my phone (possibly VN uber?), hand it to her, and then she started giggling. She wouldn't tell me why, just "we're doing local shit".  Months ago I told her I wanted authentic experiences, and I think she took that as a personal challenge.  Anyways, apparently local shit means "put on your flipflops, we're taking scooter taxis".  All in all, pretty casual. There was a moment where her scooter lost us in traffic, so I had to assume that our driver had the address in GPS or something.... which he did! To my surprise, it was a massage parlor.

We ended up getting the couples massage. Are Lou and I a couple? Nope. Was it a couples massage? Also nope. After a quick bout of suffering in our separate saunas, we passed each other in the hallway to separate  massage rooms.  The massage was actually great, I've never done a proper massage, and 22 hours in middle seats means my back is all knotted up. Then we once again passed each other in the hallways on the way to our separate hair-massage / shampooing / whatever.   That was less great. Overall not that objectionable, but it felt like a massage interspersed with going to the dentist. The worst part by far was when the masseuse worked up a good lather in my hair and then BAM, two handfuls of foam straight to the eardrums. I can't endorse this like the I did the first half.  Finally, Lou and I met up for a couples blowdry.

After that unexpected adventure, Lou once again started texting and not telling me what was happening. In for a penny in for a pound though, and I'm a few thousand in at this point so far too late to start second guessing. We got back on scooter taxis, but this time our drivers were Lou's sister Ut (pronounced Oat!) and my future-wife Giang (pronounced Zainnng).  They took us on a scooter tour of Saigon, and it was awesome. Definitely my favorite part so far. Giang is a much more aggressive rider, which made it that much more fun. As I said before, I think I could survive this on a bike. I definitely could not survive this with a pillion and she made it look easy, while pointing out the sights such as the national bank, post office, the super photogenic bridge). No pictures for this part, at least not from me, as I was holding on for dear life. As we approached downtown, there were festivals happening that really ramped up the traffic/chaos. All the things I love most in life. 

Eventually, we parked and headed into the festivities. The first one we stopped to take in was a practice session for the NYE celebrations. Martial-arts dance crews, banging techno, huge soundstage... it's gonna be a great production. Then we wandered through civic center (the iconic post-office, opera-house, and a statue of Uncle Ho), and made our way to random parkinglots where people self-sorted into various hobbies. There was the dog lot, the RC car lot, rollerbladers... just a fun night culture / street culture overall. Finally, we hit Bui Vien, one of the major "Walking Streets" of Ho Chi Min City...  which is essentially Pattaya packed into 4 blocks. TBH I've never been there, maybe Pattaya is only 4 blocks as well...

Ridiculously loud music, as clubs competed with their rivals across the street, and bars showing the soccer game competed with them. Dancers in skimpy outfits (mostly female, but a few dudes up there too), looking sexy and bored. Buskers trying to push you into their club or bar, almost physically at some points. And a few ladies of the night stalking the crowd and grabbing the hand of any lone man, especially if they're foreign.  That was the other strange point: after seeing no foreigners for days, this street was full of them. One of the buskers I totally ignored even shouted drink prices in euros (1e per beer).  Loud, obnoxious, crowded, but great people-watching.

Having survived the street and made it to the other end, the four of us ducked into an Indian restaurant. The food was cheap but good, and getting off the street to sit down away from the noise was a welcome relief. Afterwards, it was time to take the whole journey in reverse. Bui Vien was even louder and more crowded, but the magic of completely refusing to acknowledge buskers still worked, so not that bad. Eventually emerging on the far side, we ran into a crowd of police. Strange, but whatever. As we walked past they all mounted their motorcycles, flipped on their lights, and tore off down the street.  And a block later, we saw why.

All the scooters in Saigon had descended on the surrounding blocks, and were doing loops while blaring their horns, waving flags, and just generally celebrating the victory of the Vietnamese team in the Asian semifinals.  Imagine a dude standing on the back of a moped, twerking and blasting his vuvuzela, as his bro slowly rolls down the street in a pack of literally a thousand mopeds.  Anywhere they stopped pulled to the side, the police were on them to get them on their way. Apparently this is a thing every time VN wins, and it was chaos incarnate. Again, I love this shit. Apparently not nearly as much as Lou does, and we were forced to physically drag her away.  Thankfully, the marauding was limited to the city-center, which meant that we could avoid the convoys once we mounted up and headed out.

That left only another scooter ride across the city, a bit more relaxing as traffic wasn't as bad now that it was passing midnight. Tearing across a strange city with my "future wife," flowing through traffic like a dolphin playing in waves, it felt like nothing could be wrong in the universe.