Who And What Is Vietnam Through My EyesReflections Of A Month In VietnamI have been in Vietnam for a month and as with all very long trips there are ups and downs it is only natural. But to be honest Vietnam has been 99% positive! I have fallen in love with the people and their smiling faces and will treasure my memories for ever and a day. On my trips I love to learn and observe and the following waffle is reflections that I have written on a seven hour bus trip through Cambodia. I share my memories on this blog but hopefully write a truthful account of our exploits so I can read them in ten years and relive some of the adventures. The People of Vietnam: What Are They Like?I have written about some of our interactions with ordinary folk as we wound our way through the country. Vietnamese people are friendly—there is no doubt about it! They have a sense of humour and seem so positive in their outlook. Time and again they showed us help and overwhelming generosity. But one incident summed up our faith in them. We had ventured—or should I say mis‑adventured—to a large town called My Tho on the banks of the Mekong River. We had heard it was a great place to explore the bamboo waterways and experience some real culture. Upon arrival we booked into what seemed to be the only hotel in town, and what a hotel it was. Quite simply stunning, with an amazing room 17 floors up overlooking the mighty Mekong.
The place was mostly empty, and when we ventured out it was clear we were the only Western faces in the city. It wasn’t intimidating at all; in fact, quite the opposite, as all the youngsters giggled and said hello. But with nothing but endless streets, all pretty much the same, it was an early night as we looked forward to our trip the next day. There were plenty of trips to choose from, but hardly any customers. This was odd. Buses arrived with organised groups, but we had to book a boat at the dockside. It was pretty expensive, but to our surprise we had a boat all to ourselves, plus a guide. It felt surreal crossing the huge river alone, but exciting—after all, this is on many people’s bucket list! Still, there was something about our guide I didn’t like, though I couldn’t put my finger on why.
We landed at a honey farm on an island called Dragon and were immediately sat down at a table where they tried to sell us honey products. We bought a balm to be polite and asked to move on. Next came a boat ride down the bamboo waterway to a restaurant with traditional music, but we didn’t want food. Our guide was starting to lose interest, so he put us on a pony and trap advertised as a ride around the island. Ten minutes up a dirty street and back—it was over. Absolute rubbish. Then on to a sweet factory to be sold candy we didn’t want. All we really wanted was some nature, not a shopping trip. Rather early, our sulking guide announced we were heading back on the boat and the trip was over. We were all too pleased to return, as to be honest it was utter shite. Once ashore, I offered a small tip to be polite. Outraged, he threw the money back at me and demanded a huge amount he claimed we had promised. We ignored him and walked off. It was sad, and the sadness lingered because it was the first real negative in four weeks. Wendy was upset, as it had been her idea to travel here, and apart from the trip on the river there was very little for us to do apart from take interest in the local way of life. It was strange how it affected us—I just couldn’t get the confrontation out of my head and kept trying to reassure us it was just a bad trip. We did however manage to walk to a magnificent temple on the outskirts of town. I love Buddhist Temples not because I have even an ounce of religion but because the grounds are usually areas of calm and quiet and I just love beautifully tendered gardens. A lovely place to sit and get your head in gear.
After a swim at our fabulous hotel, we headed out for a beer and a snack. Along the hazardous pavement Wendy caught a kerb and fell quite badly. A group of youths nearby, sitting on deckchairs, looked concerned, but as I picked her up they laughed and waved us off. We couldn’t find a beer and couldn’t find food, so we bought a bun and sulked back to the hotel. And we really were sulking—until, down a completely different street, we were accosted by a young man sitting on deckchairs with his friends, drinking coffee. He held up a credit card and asked, “You Venn Ardy?” I took the card—it had Wendy’s name on it! This was an important card, our financial lifeline in Vietnam. He explained it had fallen out when Wendy fell, and they had spent two hours searching the local streets for us. We couldn’t believe their kindness, and they refused a reward. Back at the hotel it really hit me how wonderful this was, so I left Wendy and ran back to see if I could find them. I did, and explained I needed to thank them again. I also said I was writing about my travels in Vietnam and asked if I could mention them with a picture. They all agreed, but insisted I wait five minutes—there was no way they were going in a photo without doing their hair and make‑up!
I laughed with them for about fifteen minutes before returning to Wendy and retelling the tale. Oh my goodness, they erased all the bad feelings we had about our trip to their town and delighted us with their kindness. But I don’t think I’ll be going there again. The Food: How Was It?I was looking forward to the food, but after a few days in Hanoi I was convinced I would finally be losing my pouch! I just didn’t find anything visibly attractive—it all looked slightly bland to me. I personally love all types of Asian curry, but in Vietnam it is pho, a more soup‑based meal with noodles. Wendy loves it though and so we alternated between local food and Japanese Restaurants which we both loved. The street food vendors everywhere were a bit of a no‑no for me. The sanitary conditions are fine for local people, but in many cases it would have meant an upset tummy for me. Ironically during our second week I had some great pizzas in Tam Coc! The town seemed to specialise in proper wood ovens, they were everywhere and the product was as good as anywhere I have ever travelled. I tried some local specialities, again Wendy loved them but they weren’t high on my “great grub” list. Then we went south—and boy, what a difference. The food looked, smelt, and tasted great. It was so much tastier to me, and I found some new favourites.
In Ho Chi Minh City there were many different international restaurants, and we discovered a Korean chicken‑and‑beer place that was heaven. Boy, it was hot though! A word of advice: don’t always trust Google Translate. We ordered what we thought was a shared dish and ended up with “the full child! Half each obviously ”!
BeerVietnam loves a beer and so do I! Especially at about 20p
MotorcyclesKatie once sang that there are six million bicycles in Beijing—but in Vietnam there are 79 million motorcycles. Yes, 79 million, which works out at around 800 per 1,000 people. It’s mental, it really is, but you soon become accustomed to the chaos: the constant beeping of horns and the nerve‑wracking experience of crossing roads with your eyes shut! In fact, someone told me there are no real rules on the road—things like “one‑way signs,” roundabouts, and pedestrian crossings are merely suggestions. You get used to seeing children on them, babies, and even whole families—it’s simply a way of life here. But no matter how long you stay, there’s always a surprise in the weird and wonderful things that can be carried. I’ve seen ladders, scaffolding, a whole American fridge‑freezer, livestock, dogs, furniture, goldfish bowls, even another motorcycle—and every now and again something trumps all the others.
Vietnam: Don’t Mention the War“That’s the place where the war was, isn’t it?” It was—and it remains an inescapable scar on life in Vietnam today. But it wasn’t just the Americans; many other countries fought to gain control over the years. Only in the last forty or so years have the Vietnamese truly known peace. Even now, they are rebuilding the country while dealing with the lasting effects of Agent Orange—poisoning not only the land but also the people, in the form of birth defects and health issues. The danger of unexploded ordnance and land mines continues to maim people just as viciously today as it did all those years ago. We visited the Ho Chi Minh City War Museum and spent nearly four hours inside. We saw horrific pictures from that ghastly conflict—essentially a “Horrible History Lesson.” The exhibits were, understandably, a little biased toward the Vietnamese, but no more than any Western museum would be in its own telling of history. I took no photographs. I tried to make sense of the war, which of course is impossible. But one image summed up the horror of Vietnam: a photograph of a dead mango forest and a little boy after the dropping of Agent Orange.
When will we ever learn? Plastic and RubbishI was sat at an outdoor bar in Saigon HCMC and watched while a local man brushed up the leaves from a tree that had blown down around the tables in the wind. He carefully wielded his wicker brush around bottle tops and a discarded cigarette pack and left them in situ. It is quite bewildering they just cannot see rubbish they are oblivious to it! You have a mega rich city centre just like other major countries and right outside a five star hotel or Major watch brand you will have a great pile of general crap lying there! Vietnam has some of the most beautiful scenery in the world, there is no doubt and places like Tam Coc and Ha Long Bay are attracting welcome visitors from all over the world. This is certainly a massive boost to the economy so why the hell don’t they keep it clean. If there is one thing that really pissed me off it was Plastic and rubbish that could so easily be removed. On a suggestion feedback talk on our boat in Ha Long Bay I suggested that they offer the opportunity to clean a beach or scoop plastic from the see for thirty minutes would be a great activity and once you started to do it others may follow thus keeping your Golden Goose forever attractive. Complete silence and look of puzzlement before a reply of “Why would customers want to work on their holiday?” “Because Europeans that have bothered to come this far they generally care about nature and environment” Still a look of bewilderment so I stood up to the twelve other paying guests in earshot and asked “Would you give up 30 minutes of your trip to help keep the bay clean” An overwhelming and enthusiastic “yes’ along with an addition comment of “it would be better than the squid fishing we would definitely catch something!” My guide pulled me aside a little later and said he had been thinking and it is a good idea what I suggested “I will tell the boss”. He don’t think he has the nerve to suggest it and it wont happen I am sure! I have seen Indonesian and Malaysia rivers chocked to death by plastics. It is so sad and a wicked scar on our beautiful natural wonders. The Mekong was wide and mighty but the plastic shit it carries tarnishes very bank and tributary. If Vietnam is not careful it will be too late before they know it and the tourist will vanish, I say don’t kill the “Golden Goose”
Is Vietnam Poor?There is certainly poverty here, though it feels different from the humble dwellings and simple food you witness across much of Asia. That said, overall you get the impression this is a country mostly pulling together for a more prosperous future. Everyone you talk to is keen for you to love their country—and they are proud of it. It is a communist regime for sure (BBC is banned), but it does not seem repressive. People speak openly and are not afraid to criticise the government. Political posters adorn many streets, showing a country of workers pulling together in harmony. And to be honest, whether or not that image is entirely true, it carries a certain feeling of just that. People seem to simply get on with life. Again you might imagine the USA is a touchy subject, even a dirty word. Far from it. As far as we could tell, the past is the past and the future is peace. In fact, we met many Americans who could not believe the lack of animosity toward them. I saw a quote at the War Museum that made me smile. A Vietnamese man said to an American: “What makes you so special? We have been fighting 400 years for our freedom.”
We were waiting for a Grab car at a busy corner in Saigon when there was a violent crunch as two motorcycles collided. One rider had a newish bike and had acquired some expensive‑looking damage. They berated each other for about thirty seconds, both blaming the other. Then, as quickly as it had turned sour, they paused, smiled, shook hands reverently, and went on their way. We just couldn’t believe it.
There are the dirty jobs that people all over the world cannot enjoy doing—but someone has to—alongside the top jobs in clean offices. Yet the disparities between them are not as obvious as in many countries. Even the cars are mostly basic, cheaper models, with the local VinFast electric car being their own brand. You won’t see many BMWs, Ferraris, or Mercedes even in the rich centres of Saigon.
I remind myself that I am a guest in this country, and even at home there are thousands of people living in doorways across our so‑called rich nation. That said, it is hard to know whether a lady collecting cardboard is doing this as her sole income or simply to earn a little extra. Perhaps it is a supplement to another job—but I don’t know. What struck me was that no one seemed to look down on her. People certainly spoke to the “trash lady.” I may be wrong, and in my privileged position I can only look in from the outside. Who knows.
The Face Of VietnamPeople’s faces I will remember fondly this is my Gallery of faces, Where possible I always asked permission to take them.
Sights And Memories Gallery
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