After a slightly chaotic and confusion filled morning (including one last kick to the ass and wallet by an unscrupulous ticket salesman...or was he?....to be honest, I don't actually know who the guy was) I managed to break free of Saigon City using the only mode of transport available to my next destination - the city bus. After finding my way to one of several large bus stations scattered around the city - this one in Cholon, the China Town neighborhood - I was alternately laughed at and obviously pitied by the group of guys loitering around the bus station until one of them gesticulated madly at a bus that was pulling out of the gate. Thinking that anywhere would be better than hanging out at the bus station, I clambered aboard and found one of the last open seats. All appeared to be going well as we wove through the city sprawl in roughly the right direction - since the Vietnamese street signs were worthless to me, and no one on board spoke a
word of English, I resorted to using the position of the sun (no kidding) to plot my course. To make a long story short, I was on the wrong bus, but eventually got on the right bus using the expensive services of the "mystery dude" mentioned above. Smarting from the loss of Dong but glad to know I could relax for the next several hours, I settled in and had a great time my fellow passengers - some of whom actually knew a few phrases in English.One woman assured me that the man who had helped me onto the bus was a "bad man" who "makes war" with everyone. Not sure what that means, but it didn't sound good at all and I was glad to have left him behind. Other than another woman dry heaving in the seat behind me, the drive to Vinh Long passed pleasantly. Before too long we h
ad left the outskirts of Saigon behind and had truely entered the Mekong Delta. With one eye on the periodic road signs to make sure I didn't miss my stop, I took in the pancake flat scenery. Greener than almost anything I've ever seen before, the Delta is crisscrossed by rivers and canals. Although the rivers all have their own individual names, they are really all part of the braided Mekong that spreads like an outstretched hand across the southern quarter of Vietnam. And it is a HUGE, MUDDY river, when you actually see one of the main channels. Amazing....but that's coming from a river geek.
ad left the outskirts of Saigon behind and had truely entered the Mekong Delta. With one eye on the periodic road signs to make sure I didn't miss my stop, I took in the pancake flat scenery. Greener than almost anything I've ever seen before, the Delta is crisscrossed by rivers and canals. Although the rivers all have their own individual names, they are really all part of the braided Mekong that spreads like an outstretched hand across the southern quarter of Vietnam. And it is a HUGE, MUDDY river, when you actually see one of the main channels. Amazing....but that's coming from a river geek.I wasn't too impressed with the town of Vihn Long when I eventually arrived - of course, that was after yet another motorbike taxi drive
rs tried to overcharge me for the lift from the bus station. Independant travel is great, but all the middle men nickeling and diming you gets old quickly - the price you pay for being an illiterate mute in their county, I suppose. After a false start or two, I got oriented, found my way to a guesthouse and settled in. One short walk around town and a swing by the water front was all I needed to adjust my attitude. Vinh Long turned out to be a great place and I thoroughly enjoyed my two short days there. There's a different vibe in the Delta - very relaxed (lazy?) and friendly. Although I've never been, I assume it's the same sort of feeling you might find in America's deep south (KKK and bible thumpers notwithstanding). I spent most of my time walking the streets, exploring a ferry-accessible island in th
e middle of the channel, and giving myself a crash course in Cambodian history over coffee at a river side cafe. Yeah, the thumping karaoke from the disco down the road sucked at night, but all in all, a great place. Next, a hop over the Can Tho, a city on the other main channel of the Mekong.
rs tried to overcharge me for the lift from the bus station. Independant travel is great, but all the middle men nickeling and diming you gets old quickly - the price you pay for being an illiterate mute in their county, I suppose. After a false start or two, I got oriented, found my way to a guesthouse and settled in. One short walk around town and a swing by the water front was all I needed to adjust my attitude. Vinh Long turned out to be a great place and I thoroughly enjoyed my two short days there. There's a different vibe in the Delta - very relaxed (lazy?) and friendly. Although I've never been, I assume it's the same sort of feeling you might find in America's deep south (KKK and bible thumpers notwithstanding). I spent most of my time walking the streets, exploring a ferry-accessible island in th
e middle of the channel, and giving myself a crash course in Cambodian history over coffee at a river side cafe. Yeah, the thumping karaoke from the disco down the road sucked at night, but all in all, a great place. Next, a hop over the Can Tho, a city on the other main channel of the Mekong.
No comments:
Post a Comment