I Survived Saigon

I'm a couple hours away from successfully exiting this teeming city, but it's not Saigon itself that will kill you, it's the getting there part. I left my guesthouse on Phu Quoc Island at 6:30 Sunday morning. One of the young women running the guesthouse came out in her pajamas, saddled up her motor bike, and gave me a lift down the bumpy red dirt road into town. There I was loaded onto a mini-bus with several other passengers for the 20 km drive down to the boat pier at the island's southern tip.

The ferry ride began with some Ben and Jerry cartoons, with techno music thumping on the sound system. Then we got to watch not only "The Gods Must Be Crazy" but "The Gods Must Be Crazy, Part II", dubbed and subtitled in Vietnamese. The seas were rough enough that the attendants were handing out plastic bags but thankfully I didn't see, or hear, anyone using them.

At the pier in Rach Gia, back on the mainland, it was a short scooter ride to the bus station, which turned out to be a small kiosk tucked between two local eateries. I partook in the common hobby of sitting on the sidewalk in a low plastic chair, sipping strong coffee, and watching the traffic fly by. The rest of the men sitting around greatly enjoyed my tattoo and spent a good while staring and giggling. People came by selling sun glasses, lottery tickets, fresh fruit, and we kept waiting.

20 minutes after the appointed time the mini-van rolled up. The puppy in its carrier was stowed under the back seat with the bags of potatoes, passengers were assigned seats, and luggage was pile in whatever voids were left to be filled. The sliding door required some strong persuasion to stay shut, and threatened to fly off throughout the journey. Every single road seemed to be under construction, trucks came flying past a hair's breath away, and there were motor scooters zipping any and every direction they liked. Men emerged dripping from setting fishing nets in the murky roadside ponds and canals. Rain showers came and went. All in all, a typical Vietnamese road trip.

Even after navigating the impending Saigon traffic to the Mien Thay bus station, the journey wasn't over yet. That station happens to be a good 10 km from the city center, and the moto taxis enjoy levelling exorbitant rates to get you there. Somehow, though, I managed to sneak aboard a city bus that eventually stopped somewhere familiar, and got away with a 25 cent ride. A short hike and some enquiries later, by 8:00 I had a windowless cell in which to spend the night and a butt entirely numb from the twelve hour journey. It's more stubborness than endurance that's gotten me this far.

In other news, my dad's been at it again. If you're interested, or just wasting time online, you can flip through all my adventures with Nathan in Thailand by clicking here, or you can see what I got up to in Vietnam before my mother arrived by clicking here. I preface this with the statement that these photos have not been edited beyond their orientation, so proceed at your own risk.