After Saigon I was on my way to Phnom Penh, Cambodia, and the popular thing to do in between is visit the Mekong Delta region of Vietnam. For some reason this never brought up wonderful images in my mind so I was always kind of on the fence over even checking it out. But I did leave myself time for six days before my visa extension expired, so I could either stay in Saigon or head straight to Cambodia if I wanted. Saigon was relatively expensive and very crowded, and I did want to see what the Mekong Delta was all about, so on I went.

There are actually around 8 or 10 towns in the Mekong Delta that have some kind of tourist infrastructure, and in the end I chose two of them to spend 3 days each in. First I would go to Can Tho, which is the largest city in the region, and then I would go to Chau Doc, which is near the Cambodian border and hosts various boat trips directly to Phnom Penh.

On to Can Tho

I had booked a seat on what is supposed to be a “luxury bus” from Saigon to Can Tho, and the modest price of around US$8 included a taxi ride from my hotel to the bus terminal. The taxi ride was about two miles, so that alone would have cost $8 in many places, but this was just the beginning.

I was dropped off at some kind of travel office where no one spoke any English that I was aware of, but the people seemed to know who I was and where I was going, so I wasn’t worried. A few minutes later they signaled that my bus was here, so I went out to find what looked like one of those parking shuttle buses at airport, with big seats, lots of legroom, and plenty of space for luggage.

Finally! I had found the luxury bus I was after. The slightly frustrating thing about Vietnam, and this is more my problem than theirs, is that there just isn’t really much of a demand for Western tourist buses for individual riders, so even their high-end bus companies are made only to fit the locals. It makes perfect sense that they’d only need to make sure that people who are never over 5’8” have enough legroom, but it can be a problem for those of us who are nearly 6’4” and also wider than average.

So this shuttle bus thing pulled out and picked up about 10 or 12 other passengers, and then started heading out to the main road. There were maybe 18 seats on this thing, so not only did I have lots of legroom, but I also had an empty seat next to me.

After about 45 minutes of driving in heavy street traffic the bus turned into a huge bus terminal, and I was crushed (figuratively). It turned out this was only a shuttle to get us to their main terminal, and the other people on the thing were probably going to other destinations as well.

Someone pointed me to my actual Can Tho bus, and I climbed aboard. It was just like all the others before, meaning that my knees were permanently mashed into the seatback in front of me. And once again, every last seat was taken before we left, so I’d be in that position for 3 more hours (minus the halfway rest stop).

I’d gladly pay $16 for a seat on a bus with more legroom, but they don’t exist in Vietnam. Yes, I could conceivably buy two seats, but not only is that embarrassing, but it would also probably be nearly impossible to pull it off since my seatmate and I don’t speak a word of each other’s language. Besides, sitting sideways is barely more comfortable than sitting straight forward with my knees locked in.

Arriving in Can Tho

If I did have any romantic visions of the “Mekong Delta” then arriving in Can Tho would have trampled them. Basically, it’s a huge city (maybe 1 million people), which just happens to have a wide river running through part of it. I’d really enjoyed all the Vietnamese cities I’ve been to so it’s not a problem. I’m just saying that there was nothing special or unique about it that I could see.

I was dropped off at the company’s bus terminal on the close side of the delta, about two miles away from the small tourist zone. I was the only English-speaker on the bus, and fortunately a couple of people there outside the terminal spoke enough English to find me a taxi and get me on my way. One of them phoned for a taxi and then asked for money for the call, which I paid.

Soon I was dropped off at the Tay Ho Hotel, which (according to various reviews) was the cheapest hotel in the small tourist district that actually overlooked the river. I’d also read that the place had opened about 5 years earlier and was quite nice, but ALL the recent reviews said it was filthy. I usually think online hotel reviews say more about the reviewer than the hotel, so I was fairly sure the place would be fine, and what can you expect for $10 per night with a great view?

For example, I’m constantly seeing hotel reviews that insist that the “hotel staff was VERY rude!” and yet in the many hundreds of hotels I’ve stayed in I can’t think of a single time I was treated rudely. My guess is that people book the cheapest room they can find on the internet, and then ask to be upgraded to one with a view or a larger room, and then when the desk clerk says no they decide to get their revenge with a nasty review.

But this time, it turned out the Tay Ho Hotel was filthy indeed. I’d honestly never seen a place like it. When I first checked in they put me in a room without Wi-Fi, and then moved me to a room with good Wi-Fi, and then finally to a room (as I’d requested) with a river view in the front (for $2 more). So I was in three rooms within about an hour, and all three of them had dust on the walls and several other things that demonstrated that the housekeepers only cleaned about 70% of the things they were supposed to, and completely ignored the rest forever.

There were no rats or weird smells or other things that would make staying there impossible – it was mostly just things like there were front windows with shutters on them and it was clear that they never actually cleaned the outside of the window. And they were careless. When I woke up the first morning I rolled over to find that my earplugs had fallen out next to the pillow. Then I remembered I hadn’t used my (identical) earplugs, so these were from the previous guest, and probably trapped under the far pillow the whole time.

Anyway, I stayed all three nights and I was glad I did, rather than moving to another hotel without that view. It was so insanely hot and humid all the time that I didn’t actually do much more than just walk around the tourist area a few times. I do have a couple of observations though.

Market-based attractions and me don’t mix

The primary “attraction” in Can Tho is the opportunity to take a small boat over to a nearby “floating market.” One problem for me was that these small boats are all piloted (for some weird reason) by old women, and they aggressively try to recruit passengers for these private rides. One even accosted me as I was checking into the hotel and then kept bugging me for two days.

The weird hassle with this is that they beg you to let them take you on their boat, and then when you ask how much it costs they quote a price that’s about five times what I know is the going rate. So either you WAY overpay, or you end up in a bitter haggling session with an old lady so you can get her down to $2 per hour for her and her boat. Either way, you feel like a jerk.

I would have done it anyway, and I’ve done that sort of thing many times before, but the bigger reason I didn’t go see the floating market is that I’ve officially had it with “markets” that are meant for tourists.

I’ve been to a few floating markets before, including one earlier on this trip in Halong Bay, and they are indeed fascinating. The problem is, just like all other markets, they tend to be a lot alike.

Also, this, like many other tourist regions, is filled with markets. There are outdoor city markets, indoor city markets, fresh meat and veggies markets, night markets, weekend markets, flea market-style markets, and so on.

Each is very interesting at first, but as mentioned above, they almost all look exactly alike after seeing a few of them. One minor exception was the Vietnam War surplus market that I visited in Saigon, but even that one was mostly fake and gimmicky items alongside mountains of normal stuff.

Continuing with this rant, these markets in these tourist areas are nearly all set up for locals to trade with each other, but whenever they see a foreigner coming to snap photos they all make sales pitches for whatever souvenir items they have alongside the local stuff.

So walking through most markets means constantly hearing “Hello!, Hello!, Hello!” shouted from every other vendor. While it certainly is a friendly greeting to hear in a sea of Vietnamese people speaking Vietnamese to each other, to engage them is to hear their souvenir sales pitch.

Since I am backpacking indefinitely rather than heading home on a plane soon, I have no use for souvenirs. This means I end up wearing my iPod earbuds as I walk through these markets to drown out the Hellos, and after a few trips up and down the aisles I realize that I’ve seen all this stuff several times before, and it might have been a mistake to go out of my way to come to this market in the first place.

Believe it or not, floating markets work the same way. They exist in river areas that are prone to flooding on the banks, so traders can haul their stuff to a central location regardless of flooding conditions. Nearly all the stuff is meant for locals, but ones that have tourist visitors also have some souvenir items, and when you are in a boat being piloted by someone who gets a commission from everything you buy, you mostly just get one souvenir sales pitch after another until the tour ends.

So my new policy is that I’ll avoid market-based sights unless it’s something I haven’t seen before, or I happen to be in a position where I can buy souvenirs. I actually love buying little trinkets in Asia, it’s just that I have no room for them now.

My apology to markets

I just want to say now that I’ve found dozens of markets around the world to be fascinating and worthwhile, even in spite of the constant sales pitches. When I get to Istanbul I’m looking forward to touring through the Grand Bazaar. It’s just this brings up one of the complications of long-term travel and spending a long time in one region in general. Things tend to look similar from one place to the next, and they blend together, taking some of the thrill out of seeing the new stuff.

It’s still a thrill to go to a brand new place and start all over again.

The anti-sun lifestyle in Southeast Asia

The other major thing that hit me, finally, when I was in Can Tho was how the climate impacts the general lifestyle all over this region. In Vietnam more than any other country here, the women all wear those surgical mask-type things whenever they are in the sun. Some say they wear them to combat the smog from all the motorbikes, but the real main reason is they want their face in particular, but also their whole body, to have the lightest skin possible.

I’ve heard from many people that “people in this country or that country prefer to have light skin” but I’ve also discovered that is true of nearly all of Asia. Evidently this used to be true in the Western world as well, where those with dark skin were obviously laborers, if not farmers, and those without a tan were the upper class or at least working indoors.

Obviously now that’s switched in the West, as a tan means you have lots of leisure time, but here in Asia they actively discriminate against those with dark skin. Sound familiar?

The above part I had come to learn early on in Vietnam, and I was already aware of it for the most part. But what I saw in Can Tho was different.

I’d known that the Vietnamese generally do the siesta thing, where they literally take a one-hour-or-so nap right in the middle of the workday, usually a bit after noon. That really bugs me in Spain, but at least in Vietnam they don’t close the shops, they just take a nap and stay open. I’ve gone into restaurants around 1pm to find all three employees fast asleep on benches.

And I’d also heard that they tend to be quite active in the morning instead. A British guy I befriended in Nha Trang told me he’d seen the beaches packed with locals at around 5am, and to be honest I didn’t really believe him.

So probably the best thing about the Tay Ho Hotel was that the room overlooked what is more or less the town square public park of this part of the city, and there’s a long veranda out front with benches, so it was comfortable sitting out there and observing. The centerpiece is a large Ho Chi Minh (Uncle Ho) statue, so you could tell this was not just a neighborhood park.

I noticed that at noon this park was completely empty to the point of seeming eerie. And then after the sun went down the place began filling up, to the point that by around 9pm it looked like the county fair. There were food stalls and people selling other items, plus thousands of locals.

The following morning I was woken up by an unusual sound. It was 5:30am and I looked out to the park to see that the noise was a rather loud hacky-sack game, being played by about 6 guys dressed all in white. The rest of this park was jammed with people as well, almost as it was the night before. Many people were exercising, or at the very least doing that odd-looking Chinese thing where you slowly make simple poses for some reason.

The same thing happened the next two days as well. They aren’t staying in the park all night, they are going home to sleep for 5 or 6 hours, and then coming right back to get some exercise., and it’s all due to the always-hot-and-steamy climate.

Only the rich in Vietnam have air-conditioning, so nearly everyone uses fans and open windows to cope with the heat and humidity. They can’t really exercise when the sun is out because that can give you heat stroke if you aren’t careful. So they come out for a couple hours literally before the sun comes up, take a nap a bit after noon, and then come out for a few more hours after the sun is down.

It’s a very strange life-rhythm to me, but it seems to be pretty much universal in this area. So when tourists like me complain about the ridiculous heat and humidity every day and every night, it’s because we haven’t even begun to adapt to it like they have. They honestly don’t even walk while the sun is out, preferring motorbikes or bicycles for even the shortest of trips.

On the other hand, it’s pretty much impossible to switch to their life rhythm as a tourist. The main attractions are only open from 10am to 6pm or so, and some do shut for a couple hours in midday. So it’s not like we can go to museums at 5am or 9pm, unfortunately.

On to Chau Doc

My final three days in Vietnam would be spent at the border town of Chau Doc. I got a bus from the same company, and this one was smaller like a van, but at least I was assigned a seat just behind the wheel well with no seat in front of me, so I could actually stretch out.

Again, they dropped me off at their terminal at the outskirts of town, but this time there was no one at all who spoke any English. There were about a dozen guys crowding around me, and all of them were bike-rickshaw drivers who were begging me to hire them for my ride into town. The problem was that these bike rickshaws have a unique design that makes the thing more or less just a shallow bucket.

I could have gotten in, and my luggage also would have fit, but I would have been very uncomfortable, so I walked out to the main street to look for a taxi. One of the drivers followed me and then eventually called me a taxi, which showed up a couple minutes later. Soon I would be in the center of Chau Doc checking into the Trung Nguyen Hotel.

This hotel reminded me a lot of the one I stayed in in Hanoi, except this was only $9 per night instead of $22 per night. It was like a boutique hotel with a very comfortable bed, though the room was barely big enough to fit it. The best part is that each room has a large balcony overlooking the central market of Chau Doc, so I was able to closely observe daily life from 5 floors up.

Honestly, there is almost no tourist infrastructure in Chau Doc for English speakers, except for a couple of large 3 and 4-star hotels on the river. For the budget traveler there are only a few restaurants that have English-translated menus, and none of them I tried were any good.

So I did almost nothing except walk around the city a few times, and check out the big central market a bit. This market was just like the others, but since there were almost zero Western tourists they aren’t used to badgering us, so they pretty much left me alone.

I took two HDR photos from that balcony that I really like. The one above is obviously of the central market, and the one just below is of the city itself just turning the camera about 90 degrees. I really like all the textures, colors, and detail of this photo, even though the subject itself is pretty ordinary.

Three days later I climbed into an 11-seat “fast” speedboat to Phnom Penh, and my four months in Vietnam would end about 30 minutes later when we got to the border crossing on the river, which I will discuss in the Phnom Penh section.

After a seemingly interminable bus ride from Dalat (it took 8 hours and the first 4 of those were actually fantastic), we arrived on the outskirts of Saigon. It wasn’t until about an hour later that we made it to the city center, and this is one of many things that would remind me of Los Angeles.

After spending 18 days in the mild Dalat weather, it was a rude awakening to arrive in Saigon, where it was about 96F and extremely humid. I looked it up online a bit later and the Heat Index was 126F, which was certainly the most extreme of my trip so far.

I’d had the Dalat hotel woman call for me and reserve a room at a place called the California Guesthouse. It is located about 6 blocks from the main backpacker area in District 1, in a cluster of small hotels that were said to be a good alternative to the madness of the central area. It turned out that the only person who speaks any English at all at the California Guesthouse was the daughter, who was elsewhere when I arrived. The mother first had me wait for a while, and then she sent me to another hotel down the block. Later I came back to find that they had indeed held a room for me, but the mother didn’t know about it, but by now I was checked in to the other place.

In other cities in Vietnam I’ve really enjoyed staying a bit outside of the tourist heart, but this cluster of hotels seemed to have no tourist restaurants or shops nearby, so that would mean having to go at least 4 or 5 blocks every time I wanted anything. It wouldn’t have been so bad, but the whole area was very thick with local businesses and such and heavy with traffic, so walking longer distances in this area was not fun. After that first night I checked out and then check into a nice place in the heart of the backpacker district, where I stayed for 9 total days.

Impressions of Saigon

Just by riding in on the bus (I was riding shotgun), I could see that this is a massive city, and especially once you get near the downtown area, it’s much more modern than Hanoi. There are hundreds, if not thousands, of tall apartment and office buildings, with many dozens currently under construction. Most of the main sights are within the downtown area, but still the sprawl here was a bit intimidating and a bit surprising.

The historic center of Hanoi definitely feels like a European-influenced town that was laid out before cars and car-parking were considered, but Saigon feels almost American in that regard. Still, about 90% of the road traffic was motorbikes rather than cars, and it’s not really well designed for those. For the record, there is an active debate about which city has crazier motorbike traffic, and I think Hanoi is far crazier. Saigon may have just as many motorbikes on the roads, but all the streets are wider and there is traffic control (stop lights) at nearly every intersection.

Another big difference that surprised me was the backpacker district has several big nightclubs, which literally rage on into the morning hours. It’s clearly operating as a buffer between the West and the real Vietnam. It’s sort of a clumsy and over-the-top introduction to Vietnam, which might actually scare more people away from the rest of the country than entice them to see the rest.

Street vendors of Saigon

Another thing I had heard before was that the street vendors in Saigon have no equal, and this part turned out to be true. If you stay and drink and dine in the heart of the backpacker district then you learn this quickly, and if you keep hanging out there you can’t really keep complaining about it, but still it’s amazing.

In front of my hotel there was always at least one or two motorbike taxi drivers who’d ask if you want a ride the moment you step out front. Then there are several more on every street corner, and they ask pretty much every time, even after you turn them down 20 times in a row. As mentioned before, I now wear earbud headphones pretty much every second that I’m out and about, mostly so I can tune these offers out more easily, but also to combat all the motors and bike horns.

Then, when you sit down at one of the many restaurants in the neighborhood it’s never more than a few seconds before someone comes by trying to sell you sunglasses or cigarettes or books or souvenirs. If you sit out at the front tables they will literally often line up so one is waiting for a vendor to move on so they can begin their own pitch. Once you realize this part you begin selecting tables well inside the restaurants, but this only filters out the weakest of them. Even in places like Mexico the restaurant owner will shoo away these intruding vendors that are ruining the experience of their customers, but here the vendors have an all-access pass.

I’d love to hear the training they go through, because they all have nearly identical styles. They come by and politely inquire if you are interested in what they are selling, and the tourist will politely say no and maybe even explain why. I think they literally don’t know the meaning of the word “no,” so they continue to stand there and maybe they’ll suggest something else from their selection. I’ve tried not making eye contact at all, and not only does that feel a bit rude for a guest in their country, it doesn’t seem to phase them at all, as they’ll just stand in front of you for a minimum of 20 seconds just to prove that ignoring them is futile.

The only bright note is that they do seem to remember the tourists pretty well, so after they’ve pitched you twice or so they’ll often move along after only 5 seconds and one query on future meetings.

One of the weirdest, and also most common items you see throughout Vietnam is books. Whether they are men or women, they’ll have a stack of at least 20 or 30 books, including Lonely Planets, books about Vietnam, and current bestsellers. I already have one Lonely Planet and I’ve switched to audiobooks for everything else, so I never looked closely at these street offerings, and it wasn’t until I reached Nha Trang that I learned they were photocopies of books, and sometimes had pages missing or out of order. This explains how books like this can be sold for $30 and up legitimately, but around $10 on the street.

Sights of Saigon

I spent 10 days in the city, and on most of those I was working at least 5 or 6 hours in my hotel, but I did have a chance to see some of the main sights. There are things like a few cathedrals and pagodas and a Chinatown that I never looked into, since I’d seen so many of those elsewhere on this trip and on previous trips. I decided to just hit the main and unique ones that actually interested me.

Ben Thanh Market

Only about half a mile from where I was staying is the main central indoor market for District 1 of Saigon. I’ve mentioned this before, but again, I do generally like shopping, but on a trip like this I’m going out of my way to buy only things I need or perhaps a tiny souvenir here and there. For this reason, going to these markets can be more than a little frustrating, and I only have myself to blame.

Seeing all the local produce and meats and god knows what else that these people sell one another daily at their main market is fascinating from an anthropological sense, and I’ve spent a lot of time doing this in the past. The problem is that, at least within one small country, they tend to be alike. So the first one can feel amazing, but the 7th one feels awfully familiar.

Another problem is that the markets that double as tourist destinations all have various souvenirs mixed in, and the merchants on hand will call out to you as you pass pretty much every time. If I were in Vietnam for one month and then headed back to my house it would be great to buy an extra suitcase worth of trinkets and souvenirs, but when you don’t officially have a home and won’t be going back anywhere anytime soon it’s pointless.

So for this market I quickly walked through looking at all the local stuff and saying no thanks to the souvenir dealers, quickly exiting again and wondering why I’d even gone in at all.

Reunification Palace

Also within walking distance of my hotel was this grand building, which is surrounded by gates and grassy areas, and evidently was the main strategic base for the South Vietnamese Army, and also the sight of their last stand. Today they say it’s used a few times a year by the federal government (based in Hanoi) for meetings, but it’s mostly just a time capsule and tourist attraction.

It appears that literally nothing has changed since 1975, when the North finally conquered the South. There are conference rooms and the residences of the premiere and first lady, as well as the underground command center, a movie theater, dance floor, and even a helicopter landing port on the roof.

Admission was only 75 cents so I was surprised that it included a one-hour guided tour from a lovely female guide who spoke pretty good English. It looked like the Chinese-language tour had a much bigger group, but still there were almost 10 of us in the English group, including (curiously enough) three Japanese guys. I guess since this is sort of like Vietnam’s southern White House, and a major source of pride, they make sure that visitors actually learn what it’s all about, which isn’t true at many attractions in this country.

War Remnants Museum

This seems to be the most touted attraction in the city, and it was originally called “The House for Displaying War Crimes of American Imperialism and the Puppet Government [of South Vietnam]” and then “Museum of American War Crimes,” then as the “War Crimes Museum,” but I don’t think the displays have changed much since they changed to the current name.

Some guidebooks even go so far as to say that in spite of the obvious propaganda inside, it’s important for Americans to see the (North) Vietnamese version of the events, but I honestly found it quite tame. Perhaps they actually have rewritten most of the captions, because the entire inside of the museum consists of blown-up photographs with an explanation of what might have gone on there.

For example, one photo was of some village people, and the caption said, “This photographer said that right after this was taken these people were gunned down by American troops.” There are photos of American soldiers, some of them wounded, but again there really isn’t anything that accused the US of anything unusual.

Even if you accept their versions, it’s nothing that we haven’t heard a million times before about every war in history. There are, of course, some John Kerry quotes, but none by all the people in his battalion who disputed his version as dishonest and politically motivated. So he joins Jane Fonda as someone who is a minor star in the North Vietnamese version of events, but again nothing new or shocking.

Outside there are some tanks and planes and helicopters and guns and such. I guess they were American built and captured when Saigon fell, but even that part isn’t too clear. Overall this is an interesting stop, but the more I think about it the more I think they must have toned down some of the crazier stuff in recent years. It seems the Vietnamese government is anxious to have good relations with the US, so having such a hostile museum in its most popular city might have been unconstructive.

Also, Americans are very welcome in Vietnam. The first question that anyone here asks a tourist is “where are you from,” and when I say America I get nothing but, “oooh, that’s nice,” and a smile. They’ve had two wars since the American War here, and most people here are young and don’t hold a grudge at all. I think at this point “American” is a code for a tourist who is more likely to overspend and at least a little likely to tip in a restaurant.

Dan Sinh Market

One of the stranger attractions I wanted to see in Saigon was the famous market where they sell old American war surplus. Evidently in the years or even decades following 1975 you could buy cheap army supplies from this one market, which happens to be located only a few blocks from my hotel in District 1.

It turned out to be disappointing, but not at all surprising. It’s actually the exact same phenomenon that has plagued “army surplus” stores even in the States. Even into the early 1980s they seemed to have actual fatigues and other clothing for sale, and at very low prices, but since then I don’t think the army has much extra stuff. So army surplus stores end up stocking brand new and often cheaply made versions of the same basic stuff, and try to sell it at weirdly high prices. This is what has happened to the Dan Sinh Market as well.

I went over there around 1pm, which is smack in the middle of the siesta hour, so things were very quiet. For some reason I had pictured this market being outdoors, but it turned out to be all indoors, in a very crowded building. Many of the merchants were actually fast asleep, and it always amazes me a bit the level of trust and honor they all seem to have. Anyone could grab nearly anything from one of these stalls and just walk away with it while the person is sleeping, but no one does. I’m sure the electronic stuff is all kept safe, but still it’s really nice to be in a place where everyone assumes everyone else is honest.

Evidently the main item that used to be popular for tourists to buy was a Zippo lighter once used by a GI. I’ve read that the authentic ones have been gone for a long time, so now there are thousands of new lighters with various things etched into them that resembled the originals. You can buy those from half the vendors walking up and down the streets, and several of the stalls in this place had large selections of them.

A bunch of other places had green army-looking outfits, but all of it was new and none of it was interesting. There were also plenty of places selling electronics and other miscellaneous items.

I found a really good Swiss Army-style knife at one place and the woman told me it was 100,000 dong ($5). That sounded like a fair price, but I hear that locals don’t respect you if you don’t haggle. I offered 60,000, hoping to get it for 80,000, and she just kept repeating “100,000 maximum.” I walked away hoping she’d drop the price, but she didn’t. After looking at a few more stalls I realized no one else had these knives, but still I couldn’t bring myself to give in.

Later that day I was eating at a restaurant in the hotel district and a roaming merchant kid came up and among other things he had the same knife for sale. He started at 600,000 dong ($30), and after continually insisting that I knew exactly where I could buy one for 100,000, and him telling me I was mistaken, I bought one for 120,000 from him. As long as the sellers are friendly here I don’t mind paying more for things.

Next stop, Can Tho and then Chau Doc in the Mekong Delta, and then on to Phnom Penh in Cambodia.