I’m not sure what was more uncomfortable, standing there knowing I was being scammed (twice) or peeing out of my butt for two days in a row. Either way, it was all happening in Morocco.
Distilling the essence of “The Western Kingdom” is difficult since I had such a mixed experience, not to mention I was only there for 12 days. My exposure to the country was limited to the specific cities and activities I did.
To start with, I was inundated with shades of orange among the dirt roads and walls of the old cities. That ever-present color palette created the perception of sandy air. It’s like there was a desert nearby or something.
Even though I didn’t have enough time for a proper trip out to the Sahara, I saw a decent amount of barren landscapes on day excursions and train rides. Side note: public transportation a la buses and trains was surprisingly simple and reliable. However, certain passenger trains had small cabins with two rows of seats facing each other. That was quite crammed, when you factor in that many people ignore their ticketed seat assignment and sit wherever they feel like. That being said, my trips were more or less on time and adhered to the estimated duration.
Back to the architecture. The construction of the medinas seemed drab at first, but unique patterns started to reveal themselves upon closer look. The sophisticated detail of mosques and palaces was a joy to admire. Small elements showcased the French, Spanish and Portuguese influences. Outside the kasbahs, modern museums, apartments, and sport complexes were sprouting up in the larger cities. The contrast must be confusing for birds flying overhead.
Apart from the buildings, the souks are a congested tapestry of handmade figurines, colorful spices, knockoff apparel, and…well, tapestries. Though these markets are oft crowded and a risk for pickpockets, each walk through provides an opportunity to see, hear, or smell something new. Continually discovering new stalls, listening to painful negotiations, and inhaling the scent of freshly blended citrus was like being part of a complex ecosystem. I can’t count how many times I was called “Ali Baba” either. Apparently it means “strong man” or something in that ball park. But the definition was given to me by a guy running a scam, so I’m not sure he was a reliable source. Besides the flattering nickname, I was called Spanish, Italian, German, and even Chinese at one point. There’s a first time for everything, I guess.
Speaking of the people, this is another area where I’m hot and cold. The proprietors of the hostel I stayed in were incredibly generous, intelligent and interesting. Their easygoing vibe set a good standard at the beginning of my time in Marrakech.
From there, my impression began to deteriorate. In the streets and souks, I feel like they saw foreigners as walking dirham. While one vendor could be aggressive about getting your business, another would stand firm on an outlandish price. If it wasn’t someone trying to sell you something, it was a deceitful “friend” attempting, and sometimes succeeding, at wrapping you up in an elaborate con.
One contingency of people that were completely pleasant were the ex-pats. In every city I visited, there seemed to be a healthy community of middle-aged French or Spanish couples. Perhaps they’re content with life because they moved to a place where their retirement money will have a longer runway. Regardless, both groups are navigating the mixture of cultures with class.
To end on a high note, I have to mention the cuisine. I’m talking about tajine. I’m talking about cous cous. I’m talking about mint tea. I was either unfamiliar or uninterested in all of those things before my visit. Now, I’m an avid fan. It doesn’t get much better than spiced meat and vegetables slow-cooked in a special clay pot. As a shocking revelation, mint tea was the preferred beverage of choice between my friend Jud and I. Not beer. Somehow not beer. I can’t forget about the abundance of shawarma as well. Always delicious, occasionally detrimental to the digestive tract. It was a staple meal for us, while also being ridiculously affordable.
The cost of food and beverage in Morocco is actually an interesting topic — there was an incredible range in price depending on the establishment. It’s not groundbreaking that street meat was cheap, around $2.50 USD for a wrap with fries and tea. Alternatively, a meal at a nicer restaurant was closer to $15-$20. Still a reasonable price when you compare that to an outing back home, but it’s expensive when you’re on a traveler’s budget. Lastly, a liter of beer was over $10. Hey, I never said I didn’t have any beer. That’s almost an Oktoberfest rate and I found it absurd. It went down easy though.
So, now you might be asking yourself if I would recommend a trip to Morocco. Honestly, it’s difficult to say. Just because I had a mediocre experience doesn’t mean everyone will. I know people that have thoroughly enjoyed themselves. I will say this: my next jaunt to Africa will be elsewhere. Maybe I would have a different opinion if I had more beer and less diarrhea.
By the Numbers
Days in Morocco: 12 AirBnBs: 3 Public Transportation Rides: 10 Camel Rides: 1 Medinas Visited: 4 Barbershops Seen: Infinite MAD Spent: ~$3,889.71 USD Spent: ~$403.24 (Conversion rate of 9.646)
For those interested in visiting one day, here’s a list of where I went and how I ranked stuff: (click the top left button of the map to expand the list view)
It’s the Croatian coastal term for “the art of doing nothing.” I got into it. I got used it to. I enjoyed the hell out of it.
Croatia was runner-up at the most recent World Cup, as all the football/soccer fans out there would know. For those unaware, maybe you’re familiar with Yacht Week and all the glorious sailing? Still no? How about the birth place of the cravat? Ok, surely you knew that many Games of Thrones scenes were filmed in Dubrovnik then? I knew about 3 of the 4. As a frequent cravat wearer, I had no clue about Games of Thrones, obviously. What even is that?
While I didn’t make it down to Dubrovnik to experience the majesty of the King’s Landing set, I visited 3 other major cities throughout the country.
ZAGREB
I started in the capital city of Zagreb, not far from the Slovenian border. As I was recovering from Oktoberfest, I laid low for a few days. I literally only left the hostel to find food. I was also catching up on some freelance work and overall life admin.
Eventually, I decided to go on the free walking tour to learn about my surroundings. This revealed two legends: one about the checkerboard design used on the flag (a chess victory over the Italian King) and the origin of the city’s name (a love story of a girl grabbing water for a military general). Let’s not forget the gem about the cravat either.
We entered through the stone gate, visited St. Mark’s church, and watched the traditional firing of the canon at noon. While there was no canon ball projectile, there was a legit sound of the blast. Incredibly loud and unexpected.
Another notable thing I did was visit The Museum if Broken Relationships, which was started by a former Croatian couple. It is what it sounds like: a collection of items and first-hand accounts that tell the story of breakups from all over the world. Some were humorous, some were tragic, and some were unquestioningly odd. Like the 27 year old scab that someone’s partner saved. Love really knows no bounds.
ZADAR
My next stop was a few hours due south to the coastal settlement of Zadar. While the old town was very compact, it can best be described by one of my favorite adjectives — cozy.
It was a collection of narrow pathways and alleys that created a maze. Think Venice without the canals. That’s actually an accurate example since it was under Venetian rule several times throughout history.
There was an ancient forum in the center of town, circa 48 BC, that was mostly in ruins. Still, there were plenty of churches and old stone buildings to be amazed by. In addition to the historical landmarks, there were also two modern installations by the water. One was a series of tubes and steps built out into the Adriatic Sea that made music based on the waves.
Just a few feet away was a big digital sun set into the ground. It played a light show to keep everyone entertained after the incredible sunset had finished. On that subject, Alfred Hitchcock is on record saying that Zadar has the most beautiful sunsets in the world. Thanks for the tip, man. I did partake in viewing my fair share. No complaints.
For a one day excursion, I took a trip out to Plitvice National Park to see some nature. I didn’t even consider that the autumn colors would be in full effect. It was a gorgeous day to soak in the vibrant array of greens and oranges. Walking next to calm, reflective lakes and intricately shaped waterfalls was a pleasant way to spend a few hours walking.
SPLIT
I kept the coastal vibes flowing by continuing my tour down to Split. This was a more popular destination for tourist as it’s bigger and more of a hub for cruise ships and various island hopping.
The old town here was larger and impressive, the main palace dating back to the 4th century before the Christians came and gave it an update in the 1300s.
There were still tight winding avenues to get lost in, but also bigger promenades to accommodate the influx of people during peak season.
Split was established on a peninsula that has a modest hill you can quickly hike to enjoy a panoramic view of the landscape. I was too late to catch the literal sun setting thanks to daylight savings throwing me off, but that didn’t take away from the spectacle. I saw orange bouncing off the inland mountain range that hugs the city. A soft gradient of yellow outlined the peaks and gradually transitioned to blue. Opposite that, layers of pink and purple hovered above the water and blanketed the islands. Noice.
This is where I embraced fjaka. I went to the beach and just existed for a while. The beaches here are beds of small stones. At first I was skeptical, but I must say it gets my vote above sand. I wasn’t toting 10,000 grains with me for days after I left. Sure, it was a bit less comfortable to lay on, but with a proper towel or blanket it’s all good. I thought I’d missed out on swimming since it was deep into fall. On the contrary. Plenty of locals were taking refreshing dips so I did as well. While the water was by no means warm, it was totally manageable in the Mediterranean sun. Clear and salty. The fish were curious but seemed fine sharing.
After the much appreciated relaxation and vitamin D top up, I made arrangements to travel to Bosnia & Herzegovina. I wasn’t really aware of it as an option months ago, but fellow backpackers had good things to say. Might as well.
A mind is like a parachute. It doesn’t work if it’s not open.
Frank Zappa
That was randomly pulled from the internet. Sounds good though.
Three nights in a row. Or should I say three mornings in a row?
Berlin is well known for its incredible club scene. I’ve heard from many people across my travels that Berlin’s nightlife is the best in Europe. There’s one particular spot, Berghain, that has a party from Friday night until Monday morning — yes, non stop — with a 3 hour long queue and a notorious bouncer named Sven who refuses entry to people that he doesn’t “see potential in.” It’s like that. Even with this insight, I could never be fully prepared for what I was about to experience.
I arrived on a Monday evening with a reservation for a few nights. I didn’t have to be in Poland for a week so I wanted to see what the vibe was before booking a ton of days.
The first night was quiet. Settling in.
I met two Kiwi girls in my hostel dorm and went on a walking tour with them on Tuesday morning. This was me essentially knocking out the tourist attractions quickly: the Brandenburg Gate, the Memorial to the Murdered Jews of Europe, Hitler’s Bunker (which is now fittingly a parking lot and place for dogs to shit), Checkpoint Charlie and a few other squares with either cathedrals or historical buildings. I went to the Museum Island without entering any of the museums, then I went to Alexanderplatz to find the rest of the tourists.
I got back to the hostel in the early evening. That’s when the party train started pulling away from the station.
The two Kiwis and I played some drinking games with a group of 3 Canadians. The night got away from us a bit as we took a field trip to a weird park that’s well known for people buying drugs. It was kind of a strange night, but I could tell there was fun to be had so I extended my room to make it a full week.
The following day was spent doing life admin I’m pretty sure. Then in the afternoon, things got going again. Several 2 for 1 Carlsbergs were involved. Eventually it came time to decide on a next move. The general consensus was going to a park to continue drinking beers. The two Kiwis had an alternate plan. They wanted to go to some “sex club” with a “creative” dress code. I had no idea what any of this meant. Though I was hesitant at first, I found myself throwing on my elephant pants from Thailand and an inside out tank top. I figured it would be a spectacle if nothing else.
As we were assembling outside, 3 new people spontaneously joined us. Kal (Singapore) had just arrived at the hostel and basically only had time to drop his bag off. Felipe (Brzil) and Jie (China) also gladly accepted the invitation for a night out.
The thing is, we had no idea what Kit Kat was about. I don’t think any of us took time to interpret what a “sex club” was. When we got to the location, we saw a small line of people waiting to get in. Most of them were dressed in leather. It was only a short wait before we were standing in front of an imposing female bouncer in a fetish-like get up. We were nearly turned away as the others looked a little too normal for the erotic/creative entry requirement. I went in not knowing if they would be following after me. As I finished paying the door fee and “coat-checking” my shirt and cell phone, I noticed them come through the door. Sweet.
And then…wow. It was indeed a spectacle. “Erotic” is an accurate word. I guess. But I think it short changes the situation. Throughout the various rooms of this club, you could easily find nudity, a toy station (with active whipping and mild electrocution), drugs being blatantly sold in the bathroom, a pool for skinny dipping, and various dark corners where people were unabashedly having sex. My entire group was blown away.
Not physically.
We met a girl from Korea named Robin who hung out with us the entire night. Felipe and Jie left after about two hours of dancing. The whole thing was a bit of a blur. What I do know is that I got back to my room at 8am in time to see off the two Kiwi girls who inspired the entire excursion. Apparently they left at 3:30am and went to a different club.
I’m curious if I’ll ever have an experience that shocking and entertaining ever again in my life. Insane.
Since I didn’t really go to bed until around 10:30am and it was completely light out and hot as hell on the 4th floor of this hostel, I only really slept for a couple of hours.
I went downstairs and wandered around the grocery store where nothing looked appetizing. I returned to the hostel and posted up on the patio beanbag chairs. Gradually, the group reconvened, with a few additions here and there. For hours, we did nothing but sit there and chat.
As was becoming tradition, there was a clarion call for evening plans. Even though we were mostly sober, it was time to hit the town again. The familiar 4 of myself, Kal, Felipe and Jie were joined by Robin and Hassan (India). Matrix was the first stop of the night as that was probably the most popular option by word of mouth. It was also the cheapest to get into.
And, there was probably a reason for that. I thought it pretty much sucked. There were 3 different rooms with different music but it was all such a generic and uninteresting vibe. Of course we were coming off a gnarly first foray into Berlin clubs, but this wouldn’t have even been good for Richmond. Hyperbolically harsh, maybe, but I’m going with it.
Somehow we managed to remain for a few hours. Our crew thinned out to just me, Kat and Robin. We decided to bounce over to another spot. We’d been told great things about another nearby place called Suicide Circus. At this point, I think it was 4am. We went and stood in a 30 minute queue before entering.
Once we got in, we realized it was a pride event, possibly to kick off the festivities for the weekend. The music situation was much better, which meant we trance-ally techno’d out for another couple of hours.
After we snapped out of it and/or were too tired to continue moving our feet, we stepped out into the daylight like vampires into the sun. Another 8am outing. Seemed like I always had 30,000 steps from all of the dancing. Hilarious.
Essentially repeat the new night routine that was now happening in the morning. Sleep for 2 hours. Zombie through the grocery store. Slump into a beanbag chair.
The Carlsbergs came out at some point in the afternoon, which was now rebranded “morning.” Brendan and Jayden (New Zealand) entered the fray. There ended up being a group of about 9 that joined forces to rule some Friday night activities. Where the energy was coming from, I have no idea.
Watergate was our primary destination — another club with a reputation for being selective. We received what I would characterize as a mild, but fair talking to before being allowed in by the bouncer. I think he let us in mostly because the real party hadn’t kicked off yet. Either way, we were in.
The set up was a medium-sized room on the main floor and a cozy dance floor on the ground level. The unique factor was that there was one wall of all glass behind the DJ so you could look out and see the illuminated city on the river. There was also a deck outside whenever it was time for a breather.
There were two particular DJs that crushed their sets and showered the crowd with silky vibes. While this was happening, around 5am, you could see the orange of the sunrise starting to crest over the buildings. It put.a smile in my heart and on my face. Euphoria. The ecstasy probably helped too.
A new DJ started at 7am and by that time, the group was fading. As we started to head out, people were filtering in to begin their after parties. Dear God, this is real life somewhere in the world, and it’s called Berlin.
Thus concludes the tale of clubbing three consecutive nights until 8am.
Surprisingly, I wasn’t feeling miserable. At least in my mind. Realistically, my physical state was probably something akin to a wet rag that’d been tossed into some dank corner to dry all wrinkled and crusty. Description bonus.
If you had to guess, what do you think I did the next day?
The correct answer would be beanbag main stay for like 10 hours. The most unfortunate thing was that Kal had forgotten to extend his room and didn’t have a bed. When we got back, he had to pack his stuff and check out. He didn’t get to sleep at all, which is devastating. I couldn’t even imagine. Berlin took it out of him so much that he ended up buying a plane ticket back to Singapore for the next morning.
Suddenly, it was just me and Felipe. He left early the following morning and then I was solo again. They days evaporated in a flash.
I felt it then and I feel it now — that lifestyle is not sustainable. Obviously. For all the incredible cultural movements and openness Berlin has, I couldn’t move there due to the fact that the nightlife would be an unrelenting siren. I think I know myself pretty well and my current assessment is that I wouldn’t be able to harness the proper amount of self-control needed to manage the weekends out. It’s just too enticing and captivating. Even writing this now is making me want to go back and explore all of the other clubs we didn’t get to. Dangerous.
By the way, that’s not all I did in Berlin. I managed to somehow fit in a walking tour about the Third Reich and another one about street art and counter culture. I learned a lot of facts about the SS and David Bowie that I’ve subsequently forgotten. Oops.
I spent my last day admiring the East Side Gallery and casually strolling around listening to music. I was in a totally content state, replaying the tornado of unbelievable moments while the tram lines and green domes of the city dotted my environment.
Toward the end of the day, a huge rain storm rolled in. A classic literary trope that washed everything away and presented me a clean slate for a new adventure. That week in Berlin won’t be so easily erased, though.
A big ole bag of dirty laundry. That’s basically what I was for the 3 weeks I spent in Düsseldorf. I mean, I took showers. Mostly. But I did next to nothing apart from feed a pseudo-annoying cat that had more of a weird jungle growl than a meow.
It was my first experience using Trusted Housesitters as a travel tool. It’s definitely handy to find free accommodation, sometimes for weeks or months at a time. For those of you interested in using it yourselves for upcoming trips or petsitting needs, here’s a referral link.
I almost totally forgot that I took a super quick 2-day trip to Munich to PA on an Audi shoot with my friend Nick and our old company. I honestly can’t believe it worked out even though it more resembled whiplash than a chance for buddies to catch up. But, I’ll absolutely take what I can get. Amazing to see a familiar face.
Transition back to Düsseldorf and me punishing some Netflix. I’m simultaneously embarrassed and impressed at my sustained stamina for those marathons.
The Dorf was a semi small city but I’m sure I still skipped a decent amount. I did develop a nice rhythm of grocery shopping in Aldi every 3rd day. After one trip, I was able to get out of there without anyone knowing I wasn’t German, largely thanks to Apple Pay.
In terms of productive activities, I did take a walking tour of the downtown area. I visited a museum that was all about life in Düsseldorf during the Nazi regime. I also spent one night out drinking in the Altstadt which has a street that’s been coined “the longest bar in the world.” There a few breweries known for their alt bier — you guessed it, a specialty of the region. Customarily, it’s served in a small cylindrical glass and they just automatically bring large trays around to replenish the empties unless they’re asked to stop. A local told me that 16-20 glasses was a proper night out. I didn’t get near that number but I also never properly tried.
Could it have been done? Possibly. Should it have been done? No. It wasn’t my favorite style of beer, so the cost-benefit analysis wasn’t lining up.
Aside from wandering around a few neighborhoods, I got invited to the Trivago Summer Party. It was an all-inclusive bash for employees but I lucked into a ticket through my Altstadt drinking buddy, Kamila. Free food and bev. What’s up?? They even had a cheese course. They also waited until 8pm to roll out the liquor, a smart scheduling method to ensure people didn’t get housed too early in the evening.
That basically sums up Düsseldorf. I’d be happy to go back, but I think other places might have more to pique the interest.
On my way out of town, while standing on the platform, my train got canceled 5 minutes after it was scheduled to depart. It didn’t take much to sort out a fix, but it was a bit complex without cell phone minutes or an internet connection.
Either way, I eventually boarded a 4 hour train bound for Hamburg – the biggest city in northern Germany and the 3rd biggest city in the world for musicals. Who knew?
On my first full day, I took another free walking tour. I will forever do this as an easy way to learn the layout, history and current recommendations for whatever city.
In addition to musicals, Hamburg is known for its port (so a lot of water and ships), the Reeperbahn (a street with bars and adult night life where The Beatles notably got their start), and maybe the anti-establishment philosophy of St. Pauli.
I primarily stayed outside of the city center, so I got very familiar with a particular walking loop. I passed the town hall square, the warehouse district and the harbor promenade on several occasions. I also went inside the newly renovated concert hall which cost almost a billion Euros but was free to enter. It had an insanely long escalator but a really nice wrap-around viewing deck of the water.
Another unique attraction was the old tile pedestrian tunnel that runs under the river. It’s something like 60 ft deep and 1,200 ft long. It seems like there’s always someone in there too.
One day, I stumbled onto the FC St. Pauli stadium. This is a team in the soccer world that’s had a very progressive reputation since they formed in 1910. I was really excited to get a tour and gobble up some more of that sweet foundation. Unfortunately, the entire thing was in German. I got a few seldom tidbits of private translation. Millerntor, the stadium, was named after a gate that separated that area of Germany from Denmark’s territory. Also, it’s fan owned, anti-fascist, and LGBTQ friendly. A slogan for the team translates to “No Man is Illegal,” which I love. Lastly, the teams walk out to “Hells Bells” by AC/DC (I’m pretty sure).
For an obligatory night out, I met up with a girl named Anne who took me around the Reeperbahn but to the more local dive bar spots. Miraculously, I avoided being harassed by a lady of the night or strip club promoter the whole time I was in Hamburg. Aces.
Overall, I got a very comfortable feeling from the HH. Once again, it’s a city with the right balance of nature, nightlife and artsy neighborhoods that could be a great spot to live. At some point, I’m going to have to put together a list of how all of these places are ranked.
It’s been almost a full year since I left Richmond. It’s safe to say I’m losing my sense of “home.” Maybe it’s been gone for a while or it’s adapted to a feeling of transience. The lack of consistent routine is an understatement. Not knowing what I’m doing from day to day is one thing — a lot of room for unlimited possibilities in there — but it’s also gotten a bit daunting to try and snatch plans out of thin air. Researching, exploration, decisiveness. I know it’s one of those privileged complaints. I’m not saying I’m over the journey because I still love it. However, I’ve definitely recognized that my momentum has come to a halt and the motivation to push the boulder back up the hill is a work in progress. It’ll be nice to either find a renewed purpose or erase the concept from my head all together.
After I spend a week in Berlin, I’ve got almost 2 months of Workaways lined up. I’m stoked about the prospects. It should be a solid kickstart.
When did we first get to Brussels? The end of May. Wow. Can’t believe it’s been that long already.
Andrew and I got off our bus and met up with a few people at the AirBnB where our group of 15 would call home for the weekend. It was a very eccentric place. There were a lot of mannequins and old time knickknacks everywhere. Interesting decor choices for sure.
Jud and his band mates arrived a few hours later. After a few beers at the apartment, we went out to find some food at Hip Square, a semi-central hangout place with a bunch of restaurants and bars surrounding Saint Catherine’s cathedral. It was a popular spot, with tables and people spilling out into the cobblestone area. As it was still light out until almost 11pm, we stayed there for a while before heading back.
A few of us hung out in the sketchy street catching up when the final group of festival goers arrived. Time went on and we eventually got chastised for making too much noise so we turned in.
The band were first to leave in the morning and then our clan of 9 got breakfast and caught the train out to Zottegam. We disembarked, and had a 30 minute trek through the small town. As we were walking, Erin and I ran into an older gentlemen who was curious where we were from. He was a resident who was sometimes a guest professor at UVA. It really is a small world. We continued down some neighborhood streets and dissected a few wheat fields before finally ending up at Dunk!Festival.
We had about 6 hours to spend between the main stage and the forest stage until Gifts From Enola played. It was a small festival but a pretty cosy setup. The band did an interview for the local radio station and then had fans coming up to them saying very complimentary things. One guy from Spain said they changed his life and got him into the entire post rock genre of music. A loyal follower since the MySpace days. Incredible on all accounts.
When it came time for them to play, it was epic. The sound was solid, the performance was great and the light show was ridiculously on point. Really good crowd turnout and support as well. I felt proud to know them. Unfortunately we had to hurry out to catch the last train back to Brussels without being able to congratulate the band. They were able to stay overnight and enjoy themselves.
DUNK!FEST ALBUM
The next day our group of misfits started with a Belgian waffle and had an impromptu tour of a few notable city sights — Grand Place and Manneken Pis to be specific. The little boy peeing is really little. He was dressed up for us though, which is something.
We hung out in a park until we were joined by Gifts. After a few hours chilling, we wandered back to Hip Square and split our time between a few different seafood restaurants and beer joints. Brown bars are a Belgian staple — kind of a dive bar, but known for their old wooden construction, dim light and smelly toilets. This wording comes from a city map, but I can verify. The insane thing is each beer was served in a specialized, branded glass for that particular beverage. At every bar. That’s dedication. And an 8.5% tripel was €3.80, which would’ve easily been $8 in the US. Sauce.
The following morning, the group separated into smaller factions and departed for different destinations. Andrew and I hung out with the band until the afternoon as they were the last to leave.
Once we said our goodbyes, we caught the metro down to the southwest part of the city and did a self-guided tour of Cantillon, a 100+ year old brewery using open air fermentation to make lambics. Read: more Belgian beer. Then we returned to the city center and walked around for a bit. We had some insane sandwich called a mitraillette for dinner (hamburger + fries on a baguette), a sweet waffle for dessert, and ended with a flaming absinthe shot at Delirium Village.
Andrew’s flight back to Richmond was the following afternoon — a sad departure. We had an awesome time clowning around. It would’ve been awesome to keep it rolling for another week. Or indefinitely. Whichever.
I spent the subsequent days catching up on some things and trying to arrange my future plans.
I was lucky to meet two generous girls, Amanda (a Canadian working in Belgium) and Aline (a Belgian, well, living in Belgium). Look at you helping me out, Tinder.
I hung out with Amanda a few times, mostly just working and chatting. We went out for a meal of signature Belgian dishes once. I had the Flemish stew, which was ballin. It also happened to be a place that served this beer where the recipe had been lost for 200 some years, so that was a bonus. She charged the entire dinner to her company as well. Extra bonus.
Aline and I met for a few beers one night and got late night frites. She very kindly welcomed me to couchsurf at her place for a few days, a helpful break for my travel finances. Very lucky situation. We watched some movies and the Women’s World Cup and snacked. One night, we went to watch a band at a microbrewery. Beer again. She was fun and open to hosting me longer, but her twin sister was returning from a year and a half abroad, so I thought they should have a chance to spend some time together.
This inspired me to take a 3 day trip to Ghent. It was a short train ride away. A very medieval, historical city that was active from the university there. I went on an evening walking tour my first night to get a bit of the backstory and significance of some landmarks. I learned that Ghent, through Charles V, was basically in control of almost all of Western Europe in the 1500s. Though a lot of the buildings were from that era, most of their facades had been refurbished sometime during the 20th century. Still, there was a castle, several cathedrals and an infamous bell tower which all looked outstanding.
The weather ended up being miserable for my last two days there, but I got a 48-hour city pass to grant me access to the cultural places. I visited two of the art museums, the design museum, the industry museum where they showcase the history of their textile and graphic design processes. I got a bird’s eye view of the city from the top of the Belfort and was able to scope The Mystic Lamb in St. Bavo Cathedral, which is the most stolen piece of art in the world. Unfortunately, I was a few minutes too late to enter the castle, and I missed out on the boat ride due to rain. I crammed a good amount of activities into the two days though. Definitely made the pass worth it.
Overall, my Belgian experience was largely a tour of beer, with a bit of music and culture sprinkled in. Bruges and Antwerp will have to wait until next time.
After Ghent, I went back to Amsterdam to stay with Joyce, who I met in Bali. I wasn’t exactly sure how long it was going to be but I was hoping to stretch it until the 25th of June. I ended up falling into another lucky situation. Through her amazing group of friends, I was hooked up with an apartment and a bike of my own for an entire week.
So, over the course of the 11 days, there was a lot of cycling, an after party with perfect vibes, a free canal cruise, a basketball tournament, a Couchsurfing meet up, and more general exploration. If this is the way my travels go for the next few months, I might have to quit while I’m ahead. Way ahead.
I’m trying to pinpoint what the universe is balancing out with this run of good fortune. There was that one scam in Bali. But I’m not sure if that was horrific enough to warrant this amount of positive action. Or, maybe it’s house money and I’m due for some bad luck in the future. I’m not going to be that pessimistic. I’ll just accept that things are working out for me right now and continue to ride the wave.
It’s an interesting travel tactic to land at one airport (Brussels) and immediately get on a bus to another airport (Amsterdam). But that’s where I was meeting up with Andrew so that’s what happened.
I wasn’t anticipating it being a massive transit hub and shopping facility. There was a brief game of messaging on spotty WiFi mixed with hide and seek. We reunited underneath the orange stock car and all was well.
We quickly found out how easy public transportation was in Amsterdam. We rode the train one stop before we were at Centraal Station. From there we caught a short, free ferry across the river to Noord where we were staying.
We settled in and took it easy for a bit since we were both shrugging off long journeys. It was around 4pm when we hopped back on the ferry and started our exploration of the city center.
A bike shop owner advised us which direction to walk to see the pretty parts of Amsterdam (avoiding the touristy spots), and also threw in a coffee shop recommendation.
Soon, we learned that most joints are actually spliffs aka gross. Lesson #1.
Andrew and I continued our stroll through the western part of the city. It was a sunny day and as with most sunny days, the feeling was good. Based on a very brief exposure to the city, I was getting that familiar feeling — I could see myself living here. Beautiful old buildings lining picturesque canals. Water and greenery. People happily walking their dogs and riding past on bikes. These are no doubt attributes I value in a place to live. But I’ve felt that about several places on this journey. I wonder if that’s my brain sending signals it’s ready to settle back down or just the excitement of a new location. Either way, I could recognize a community fixed on a foundation of openness and nature. Trust me, this was before any herbal effects kicked in.
Anyhow, we found a street where people were eating outside and we decided to grab a bite. FYI – an Amsterdam pancake is about the size of a medium pizza. Intense.
Eventually our wandering led us into the tourist section, which was interesting in its own right. We located another coffee shop where we split a space cake. Trying to be cautious. Lesson #2: they are quite tasty. And a whole one will be ok for one person.
We unintentionally stumbled upon the Red Light District. It was still turning on but what we did see wasn’t what I envisioned it to be. There was a lot more variety in age and size of the women in the windows. Many of them were yawning or just looking at their phones. It was uncomfortable how they were objects behind glass for everyone to stare at. Moreover, it was sad how bored they were with it all. Later on, there were women more active in wooing Johns off the street. I’m not even sure if I should call guys that. I don’t know what the “menu” of services offered is or anything.
There were official porno shows as well. I think they were more or less the same as a Thailand ping pong show. You watch the novelty skills and then live sex for €50 or something. We passed on that, but we did take a few puffs of a pure j and go into a €2 peep show. It was an octagon of small rooms where everyone watched a striptease. Not all that interesting.
It was still light out at 10pm which was really throwing off the circadian rhythm. We snaked our way around several more streets before heading back to the ferry. We got some late night snacks and shared some giggles before bed.
The next morning was a bit of a slow start after shedding some jet lag.
There was a public transportation strike which meant none of the ferries were running. And there was no pedestrian bridge across. We walked farther into north Amsterdam to rent bikes. It was a very industrial warehouse district that was being reclaimed by artists, .
It was necessary to cycle at some point while here because the city was made for it. There’s around 1.1 million people in the metropolitan area and over 800,000 bikes. Other people have told me it’s a 3:1 ratio of bikes to people. We were also warned that cyclists were more dangerous than cars. Here’s some other fun facts about bikes in Amsterdam.
Riding amongst people that do it everyday was a reminder of what poor shape I’m in. We had to go through a long tunnel to get to the city and there were elderly women easily cruising past me without having to stand up. It was fun to build up silly speed on the downhill part though.
We made our way to a brewery at one of the 8 remaining windmills in Amsterdam. Delicious bevs. Then we walked around a park that was also a zoo…at least what we were able to access freely. I think we kind of just rode around directionless for a bit. We wound up at a restaurant for what was essentially a date.
Dinner. More riding. Back through the tunnel.
We returned our bikes at 10pm as the sun was beginning to set. So gnarly.
In the morning, we joined our hostels free walking tour. It gave us some valuable information on the architecture, the canals and a few key landmarks. I love the XXX in the crest of the city. You can find them almost everywhere if you’re looking. Contrary to the belief that it stands for the x-rated fun of the Red Light District, we were told the symbols stood for Old Amsterdam’s 3 biggest dangers: fires, floods, and The Plague. This could also just be an unconfirmed theory.
We met V, a French girl on holiday, who we went to hang out with in a park. The 3 of us walked through the Albert Cuyp Market where we tried a stroopwafel, a Dutch staple. Straight up yum.
Later that evening, Andrew and I met up with Coen, who I traveled with for a bit way back in New Zealand. We had a handful of local brews at a beer bar in a part of town devoid of other tourists. It was sweet to catch up and get some helpful tips from a native. Closed that place down too.
The following day, me and Andrew took the metro for fun. Super clean and efficient system. We walked around a floating flower market that was a bit different than anticipated. We also went to a museum with some photography exhibits. We rounded out the day by going to the Heineken Experience. It was a brewery tour on steroids, detailing the company’s history while walking through some of the old brew facility but with 2 or 3 floors of crazy digital, interactive activities. At the end we got two small Heinekens, which were Heinekens.
We toured the canals and cozy neighborhood streets a bit more before returning to the hostel to eat dinner. We met V at the bar for a few beers and that was pretty much that on Amsterdam.
Andrew and I caught an early morning bus to Brussels to meet up with some college friends to watch Jud’s band play at a music festival.
Somebody told me that Thailand was called “The Land of Smiles.” For the most part, it felt like that was only when people wanted something from me. I did encounter one smile in particular that was heart melting. I’m saving those details for the memoir though.
I suppose the smiles could still be a work in progress. Adult braces were popular. Same goes for nose jobs and fake boobs/gender modifications (ie ladyboys). I never had an in-depth conversation with a local about their take on that phenomenon. But the sex culture is so prevalent and open. I think Pattaya is the prostitution capital of the world. I was given a heads up to steer clear so am only able to speak anecdotally. I can, however, speak first hand to how Tinder was sort of categorized based on location.
Chiang Mai – Primarily girls working in massage parlors trying to get business.
Phuket – “Freelance” aka service girls.
Bangkok – Normal Tinder. Decent amount of matches that are pretty much dead ends.
On multiple occasions, I heard people mention so-and-so having a Thai girlfriend. Seemed like a common concept. I’m curious to get more insight on that and the ladyboy prevalence when I return.
Along with orthodontists and plastic surgeons, 7-11 owners are making a killing. I’m highly considering becoming a franchise member. It would be a guaranteed passive income. In some places, there are stores directly across the street from one another. This is not an exaggeration. It’s a surefire investment.
Other miscellaneous observations:
Umbrellas are for sunny days.
They cut with spoons.
Vendors are less pushy than other neighboring countries.
The public transportation system was pretty good.
Thailand is a very strange shape.
I wasn’t as nomadic across the country as I would have liked to be. And I didn’t have all that much time to thoroughly digest a place. I missed out on a lot of activities for sure so perhaps I’ll have a longer list the next time I visit.
One of Thailand’s unique attributes is that it provides diverse landscapes and attractions. From the mountains and canyons of the north to the tropical beaches in the south, you could spend time trekking with elephants or boating to a picturesque and private blue water haven.
Wherever you prefer, there’s sure to be a temple nearby. Gold-wrapped and ornate, the wats in Thailand offered a unique Buddha or structure to help differentiate them from one another. Faith was strong and on display everywhere, down to a cashier bowing with praying hands to every customer. That’s what makes the promiscuity and sultry experimentation such an intriguing contrast.
Perhaps my biggest indulgence during my time in Thailand was the food. I neglected to take a cooking class, but I partook in enough street food to make up for it. The depth of flavor was extremely inviting. Curry and Pad Thai options were addictive — this coming from a person who didn’t rate any Thai cuisine before traveling. Khao Soi is a must try if you ever find yourself in Chiang Mai.
A piece of hearsay I became privy to was that tourism seemed to be slowing down. I was there during low season (and don’t have another trip to compare it to), so I can’t offer an opinion on that. I will say that the people seemed to be more confident and audacious. Perhaps that could be attributed to more exposure with foreigners. The integration of western concepts was much more seamless here than any other Asian country I’ve visited. The prices reflected that as well. Whether or not that changes with a fluctuating tourism industry, only time will tell.
By the Numbers
Days in Thailand: 15 Planes, Trains, and Buses: 8 Islands Visited: 5 Massages: 2 Street Food Meals: 12 Temples Visited: Lost Count THB Spent: ~20,857.01 USD Spent: ~$662.74 (Conversion rate of 31.4709)
For those interested in visiting one day, here’s a list of where I went and how I ranked stuff: (click the top left button of the map to expand the list view)
Favorite Attractions: 1. The Grand Palace 2. Koh Phi Phi 3. Doi Suthep 4. The Marble Temple 5. Wat Chedi Luang 6. Wat Pho 7. Koh Khai Nai 8. Khaosan Road/Bangla Road 9. The Golden Mount 10. The Big Buddha (Phuket)
Lastly, below is my “best of” album. This country has a lot more to offer than what I captured but hopefully I’ll be back when I’m a bit more advanced in my photography skills.
How has it been two months already? When I got to Vietnam, I wasn’t planning on staying that long. The extended visit meant that I got to get out of my backpack for a change and remember what a routine was like. Most of that routine consisted of me struggling to teach 4-15 year olds English — something I ignorantly underestimated despite having no experience.
As someone who has never been confident interacting with young kids, allowing me to “command” a full classroom was a highly questionable decision on the part of my employers. Each morning I had to fight past my discomfort to show up and attempt to teach, even though I didn’t know what I was doing. And while there may not have been a real benefit for the students, I did connect with a few of them. I have a newfound appreciation and respect for teachers (and parents for that matter) — especially those with the patience and fortitude to keep smashing head first into the wall that is kindergarten-aged little ones. At a very pessimistic minimum, all of the nerves and sweat helped subsidize an excellent 10-day tour across the country with my friend Jorge.
While teaching had its rough moments, there’s still plenty of things I came to love about Vietnam.
The cities are densely populated and bustling. Streets packed with motorbikes and cars made crossing the road feel like a game of life and death at times. The street food stalls full of people squatting on tiny plastic chairs created a special vibe. There’s a certain type of energy in that claustrophobic lifestyle.
On food: the cuisine was about what I expected it to be. I ate rice almost everyday. I ate parts of animals that I don’t want to know more details about. Some meals almost forced me into vegetarianism. Chicken feet aren’t great. Shrimp sauce is even worse. But the pho was right. “Bread’ aka banh mis became my go-to delicious and cheap option (65¢ a piece).
The people are friendly and emotional. The amount of times I heard “show me your smile…” From what I’ve gathered, they love quickly and deeply. Overall, they seem busy and motivated yet happy. Also, the women are beautiful. But that could just be my new thing.
There’s history everywhere. I feel like every place Jorge and I went on our tour used to be the country’s capital at some point. Temples, dynasties, and wars. I felt like I was staring into the past in some places. The natural palette of brown rivers accompanying muted black limestone mountains and deep green rice fields created an ancient ambiance. Don’t worry, though. There are some developing, modern places that, when finished, will provide quite the contrast. I’ll probably stick to nature regardless.
So, the people, the food, the scenery and the affordability are a worthwhile combination that will beckon me back. When? I don’t know yet, but probably not soon enough.
By the Numbers
Days in Vietnam: 65 Days Teaching: 40 Schools Taught At: 5 Teaching Salary: 19,642,000 VND Days of Tour: 11 Temples Visited: 12 Boat Rides: 7 VND Spent: ~41,319,325 USD Spent: ~$1,781.98 (Avg conversion rate of roughly 23187.26) Net Spend: ~$934.88
For those interested in visiting one day, here’s a list of where I went and how I ranked stuff: (click the top left button of the map to expand the list view)
Favorite Places: 1. Saigon 2. Hoi An 3. Hanoi 4. Halong Bay 5. Hue
Lastly, below is my “best of” album. This country has a lot more to offer than what I captured but hopefully I’ll be back when I’m a bit more advanced in my photography skills.
Here’s a price comparison on similar goods from the US and Vietnam. I chose this array of items for their common, everyday nature. In some cases, I couldn’t find the exact same product, so I went with what was closest. I tried to convert the metric amounts to whatever US unit we use as well. Hopefully I got everything correct. Math is not my strong suit.
*The US prices are based on a Ralph’s in San Diego, CA. Amounts may vary slightly depending on where you call home. Same with exchange rates.
ESSENTIALS
Item
US Price
VN Price (Converted to USD)
Milk
$3.49 (1 Gallon)
$6.32 (~1 Gallon)
Water
$2.99 (Total = 405 fl oz)
$3.59 (Total = 405 fl oz)
Bananas
59¢/lb
91¢/lb
Generic Loaf of Bread
$1.19
54¢
Notes: The measurements lined up pretty closely. Just about exact for once. I’m not sure how popular the milk brand is; the water brand is definitely one of the cheapest.
Observations: Milk does not seem like a popular beverage here so I guess that explains it being expensive. I’m surprised by water being more costly. Also wouldn’t have expected bananas to be more. Although, that’s in line with some of their other fruits. Apples are super expensive because they’re all imported. When they say “bread” they’re referring to a banh mi, which is obviously a sandwich with ingredients. It’s rarely eaten outside of that delivery system. Sometimes to dip into soup, but that’s all I’ve come across outside of a hotel’s continental breakfast aka accommodating western travelers. Cheese though. My god. Where is it?? Practically no options at the super market. There is a Pizza Hut down the road, so it exists somewhere, but I haven’t been that desperate yet.
EXTRAS
Item
US Price
VN Price (Converted to USD)
Bottle of Coke
$1.99 (20 fl oz)
32¢ (20.29 fl oz)
Tub of Coffee Ground
$4.99 (11.3 oz)
$4.21 (7.05 oz)
My Expensive Deodorant
$9.99
$2.11 (Not the same)
6 pack of Beer
$9.99 (72 fl oz)
$4.35 (66.95 fl oz)
Notes: The deodorant was not a proper match in type or application (again). It’s about time for me to re-up, so I’ll be saving some scratch. The beer is mostly sold by individual can.
Observations: It’s interesting — they have cans of Coke, Coke Light aka Diet and Coke Zero., but you can only get regular Coke in single-serving bottles. Budweiser is a mid-tier beer based on price, yet it’s still half the price here. Crazy. Get crunk. I’ve definitely adapted to those prices for alcohol. You can get bia hoi (“fresh,” unfiltered draft beer) on the street for 20¢, while bottles or cans in many restaurants are around 65¢-85¢. Any time I see a more expensive price I get bitter. In that case, I just go to the convenient store and stock up there.
Based on these comparisons, it seems like certain products are wildly cheaper, while others aren’t at all. That type of analysis could be made for any place I bet. I will say that a standard banh mi off the street will run you about 86¢. Eat a double dose and you’re hunger is pretty satisfied. A basic bowl of pho is $1.70; maybe twice that in a big city. Still incredibly cheap for a meal. So, prices for street food (squat gang) are super affordable. Restaurant dishes are definitely marked up, but depending on where you are and what you’re ordering, it might only be end up costing another 25¢. Who doesn’t have a few spare quarters lying around in cup holder somewhere?
Ten days around Vietnam with one of my oldest friends? Lock it in!
Me and my buddy Jorge have been talking about Southeast Asia as a travel destination for maybe 10 years at this point. It feels like forever. That’s why this trip was such a delight. It was a friend reunion, it was a travel reunion, and on a much less significant note, I was with someone that fully understood me the whole time. Let’s call it a success on every level.
Both of us are laid back and flexible, which is a combination that makes for an easy travel mate. The only time it really became an issue was when we were looking for food. The openness turned into indecision as we made several laps around a city before settling for a banh mi. So many banh mis. Which isn’t a negative thing because they’re the perfect meal — tasty, fast and cheap. If I had to summarize our trip into as few words as possible it would be banh mis, balloons, and the feeve. Details I will touch on later. The amount of fun/terror we had crossing the road should also get a mention.
Since we did an organized tour, the majority of our days were mapped out and we didn’t have to worry about the headache of transportation to and from. Vietnam is country that’s long but narrow, with a lot of distance between the main hotspots In the north (Hanoi) and the south (Ho Chi Minh City) — about 1000 miles. Having our route pre-planned helped us optimize the amount we were able to see and do. And it also gave us an opportunity to get a few in-transit naps.
We had 3 different tour guides based on the regions we were in. It was interesting because they all had wildly different interpretations of Vietnam’s history and culture.
In the North, Hung was a mid-20s guy with somewhat rough English skills. He wasn’t as knowledgeable as the others and was open about his admiration for Ho Chi Minh. He was a super nice guy and hardworking so it’s hard to knock him.
In the center of the country, we had Huy, who was a 35 year old rubber tree farmer that looked 50. He had facts and figures out the ass which were sometimes a lot to take in. Over the three days we were with him, we were exposed to his unique perspective on gender dynamics. A very conservative viewpoint. “Vietnamese women…very soft, very nice.” To boil it down, he believed that a woman’s duty was to serve the man, if we saw a female drinking she was a prostitute and that having 10 daughters was like having no children. Quite a harsh outlook, but I suppose it’s common for people from a small country village to believe that. I mean, they still give 3-5 cows as a dowry…a rating system that Jorge and I started using much too late in the trip.
Lastly, in the south we had Hai. He was over 60 and came of age one year after the war ended. As he was from Saigon, he was very liberal and direct. He seemed pretty disillusioned with the revolution and told us a story that painted the rest of his countrymen as prejudiced toward southerners.
The discrepancies are kind of surprising. And when we tried to ask one of them to validate the opinions of the other, they came nowhere close. The lack of consensus is a little puzzling. Even though beliefs can vary widely in the US based on region, I feel like we still generally agree that people from the south are hospitable but conservative, people from the north are more liberal and people from the west coast are completely free-spirited. Am I wrong about that?
Regardless, what Jorge and I observed seemed to align the most with Hai, whether accurate or not. Everyone in the north did appear relatively liberal, but money-motivated. The population in the central carried themselves with a more formal, stereotypical attitude and appearance. And those in the south, at least in Saigon, mirrored other major cities in being open-minded and embracing the taboo/experimental.
Ok. Phew. Now that the cultural pseudo-summary is done, I’ll get into our itinerary. I’m not going to go beat by beat with analysis over the whole 10 days because no one has that much time. But I’ll hit the highlights.
Day 1. Welcome to Asia, Jorge!
After 20 some hours of travel, I met Jorge on the street in Hanoi’s Old Quarter around 11am. This was my third time in Hanoi, so I was relatively familiar with the layout. We had a free day to walk around and explore.
We started with lunch, did some wandering, went down train street, found a brewery, initiated Jorge into the egg coffee community, and joined the squat gang by eating some pho on the street whilst sitting on tiny plastic chairs.
Day 2. The Sites of Hanoi
We met Hung in the morning and visited the Ho Chi Minh Mausoleum, Presidential Palace, One Pillar Pagoda and the Temple of Literature.
Unfortunately the interior of the Mausoleum was closed, so we didn’t get to see HCM’s entombed body. I’m guessing that would’ve been kind of weird anyway. We did get to see his old country style house and a few old cars.
The Temple of Literature is on their 100,000d note, so I tried to replicate that image.
We had lunch, checked out the Museum of Ethnology, and then walked around the Hoan Kiem Lake. Then we took a cyclo ride through the busy streets of the Old Quarter which was a fun way to see the city.
That night, we started with some drinks in a dive bar then walked around the night market. We witnessed a vendor get her entire fruit tray taken by the police. And then we did a bit more squat ganging for beer and a balloon (I wrote about this previously in my Hanoi post).
Day 3. Rice Fields and River Views
Departing Hanoi, we had a two hour drive to the Ninh Binh province. The first stop was Hoa Lu, which was the ancient capital, I want to say in the 11th century or something. We got to pet a friendly water buffalo. Then we had a delicious lunch in a garden where they just kept bringing plate after plate of food.
The marquee activity of the day was a boat ride down the Ngo Dong River in Tam Coc. A quaint row of buildings lined a river cul de sac where there were a million boats stacked on top of one another. There were many other tourists on the river at the same time but the scenery was stunning. It was a pretty long trip that took us through a few short caves. Our skipper rowed almost the entire way with his feet as well.
From there we went to a place called Mua Caves and climbed 300 steps to have an epic view of the surrounding area. Confused as to how a cave equates to a viewpoint, but who’s counting? (Semantics)
Our accommodation that night was a cozy resort in the middle of some desolate rice fields. This is when Jorge had the realization that the way he enjoys traveling is different now. Adulthood. Resort life. Cocktails by the pool. Relaxation. Good fortune.
Day 4. A Blue Sky in Halong Bay
We were picked up and driven another two hours to a port in Hai Phong where we caught our overnight cruise ship. We stocked up on some scotch and beer to bring along.
After a decent buffet lunch, and an introduction to the boat’s very attractive customer care specialist (I have developed a slightly uncontrollable appreciation for Asian beauties and I’m sorry but the only term to properly describe it is “feeve”), it was all deck time sailing amongst the gorgeous limestone islands. The sun came out and the constant overcast blanket I was used to dispersed to reveal a blue sky. My first in Vietnam. No joke. It only took a month.
Everyone aboard went on a small bamboo boat trip, deeper into the bay, through the “light and dark” caves. There was some free time for swimming which we used to drink outside and soak up the sea breeze. We had a few cocktails during sunset and enjoyed a pleasant dinner. We chatted with a honeymooning couple from Tennessee, a family from Indonesia and two female travelers from Switzerland. There was night time squid fishing which was pretty fruitless — they gave us baitless hooks. When everyone went to bed, I stayed on deck to have a solo beer and got corralled into helping one of the crew members learn English.
Day 5. All Kinds of Movement
We greeted the day with a very early morning Tai Chi session. The instructor moved quickly and I’m still uncertain what our bodies were supposed to be doing there. Ill-coordinated and fatigued.
After a light breakfast, we kayaked around an old fishing village. There were several communities living out in the bay until a year or two ago when the government forced them back on land to help preserve the environment.
Watching “the gaggle” of Malaysian tourists try to kayak was entertaining. There was one boat of two ladies that I don’t think made it 10 yards away from the dock.
Unfortunately the weather wasn’t as solid as the day before, but kayaking is kayaking. Always a pleasure to be out on the water.
During lunch (at 10:30am), there was a traditional music performance from a crew member named Mr. Happy.
By the time that was over, we were back at port and meeting up with our driver for another two hour ride to the Hanoi airport. We busted out the Priority Pass to lounge it up until our flight to Da Nang.
So basically there was a lot of transportation time before we arrived in Hoi An.
Immediately, there was a special vibe. The lantern city has a lovely feel with the architecture, cozy streets and colorful river banks.
Jorge and I met up with two travelers I roomed with in Bali and had some beers and a stroll. We also got to release some paper lanterns off the main bridge that connects the new and old parts of the city. I made a wish, but I’ll never tell.
Day 6. Yellow Buildings and Green Gardens
Huy met us at our hotel with bikes that we rode around Hoi An.
First, we stopped at a silk factory where they were making all kinds of things by hand. Jorge and I passed on the opportunity to have a custom-tailored suit. We also did not purchase any hand-threaded paintings, but they looked really sweet.
Next we visited the Japanese covered bridge, the folk museum, the Chinese Assembly Hall, an ancient house (that gets flooded almost every year), and a theatre where we watched an art performance.
From there, we rode outside the city, along beautiful rice fields, to a farm in the village of Tra Que. There, we had a brief cooking lesson on making rice pancakes (2 for 2 on the toss and catch) and ate them for lunch. We got our first taste of a Vietnamese foot massage as well, which was a game changer.
After a brief stroll through the well-kept gardens, we rode our bikes back to the city.
Jorge and I ditched Huy and continued on the bikes ourselves to discover more of Hoi An. We circled back to our favorite Happy Hour spot where it seemed you could always get a large bottle of Bia Saigon for 15,000d aka 65¢. We circumnavigated the city a few and were close to calling it a night but stopped back at the bar one more time because it was only 8:30pm.
We ended up chatting with two British girls who sat next to us. When all the reputable establishments closed at 10pm (normal for most places in Vietnam), the group ventured over to the cringeworthy Mr. Bean bar to continue the evening. That’s right. It was a Mr. Bean-themed bar. Terrible. A few more rounds and onto another bar. The girls glommed onto some other people so we got some balloons and watched a guy pull his scooter out of the river. Lolz.
Day 7. Are We in North Korea?
The main goal of this day was to see The Golden Bridge, which has become a popular tourist destination since opening last year. And because Instagram.
It was in an amusement park just outside of Da Nang, the Ba Na Hills Sun World. Crazy place.
We took a cable car up to the top of the “hill” which basically opened up into a fake European village. There were castles, cathedrals, and alleys and shops that made you feel like you were in Europe. But at the same time, everything was just a facade. There were games, rides and entertainers mixed in among these buildings that seemed to be made of plastic and styrofoam. It was very much an over-the-top setting without much substance. A beautiful storefront with nothing behind the curtain. And there was still sooo much under construction.
Thankfully, the main attraction delivered. The Golden Bridge, even though the hands were just textured to look like stone, was sweet. It curved out onto the edge of the mountain so you felt suspended in nature. While the park as a whole was full of tourists, we got somewhat lucky that the bridge was only mildly crowded when we were on it.
Initially, Jorge and I were feeling pretty confident about speeding through this place. In the end, I would’ve actually preferred more time to delve deeper into the nooks and crannies of this so called Sun World. There were so many things to investigate…and look behind.
On the way out of there, we took the scenic route over a mountain pass to reach Hue. We dropped our bags in our room and roamed the streets. At first, we went the complete wrong way, but had a nice walk by the river. Once we found the main area of the city, we did a few laps and settled on a place to have dinner, which ended up being the best meal of the trip. There were Vietnamese women around us that were drinking. Hookers.
Not really.
Day 8. Imperial and Forbidden
Our Hue city tour began with a walk around the Thien Mu Pagoda. There was another gaggle, this time of uniformed Vietnamese tourists that asked for a picture with me and Jorge. We were the tokens.
We took a dragon boat ride back down the Perfume River. With the entire boat to ourselves, it was awkward not buying any souvenirs from the persistent wife of the captain. A vicious cycle of items being held up and “No thank yous.”
Upon disembarking, we had a short walk over to the Imperial City, the former capital of Vietnam that is now basically a walled community. There were several buildings surrounded by halls, water features, and plants in bloom. Inside the Imperial City, separated by beautifully ornate gates, is the Forbidden City, which is where the King and his family lived. We got to see the ruins that housed the 5 wives and over 200 concubines. Every night, the King would apparently spend time with 5 different women for one hour each. He had a eunuch organizing his social calendar and reminding him of their names. The information that sticks with you…
We broke the confines for lunch, visited the Tu Duc tomb which was an entire compound, and then quickly passed through the market before being dropped off at the airport.
it was very much a small domestic airport, so no lounge situation. But eventually we boarded and had a quick plane ride to Saigon.
Side note — Jorge and I strictly refer to it as Saigon because 1) it sounds cooler than Ho Chi Minh City 2) the word was outlawed for 20 years after the city fell in 1975 and 3) that’s the beer we drank the most so…it’s gotta be Saigon.
Checking into our no-frills AirBnb was uneventful. It was a completely different story when we got out into the night life and found the main walking street.
It was an assault on the senses. There were tourists and locals everywhere. Shop after shop had tables and small chairs spilling out into the street, occupied by curious eaters and drinkers. There were children breathing fire amid various other street performers, wardrobe-sized speakers every 20 feet blaring awful karaoke, and mobile food vendors peddling additional flavors of the south. On our first pass through this exotic corridor of madness, we were accosted by some gorgeous women (feeve) trying to drag us into their massage parlors. Literally. we had to peel tightly-grasped fingers off of our arms. A few overwhelming laps later, we found a squat gang with suitable beer prices and set up shop to people watch. Honestly, I would’ve been fine if those were the only sights we saw the whole time we were there.
Day 9. Stepping into Apocalypse Now
In the morning, we piled into a car and drove out to the Mekong Delta in the Ben Tre province. We boarded a small boat that took us around to typical workplaces like a small brick factory and a coconut processing plant. Floating our way through the picturesque canals was a realistic embodiment of every Vietnam War movie you’ve ever seen — jungle-esque greenery lining a brown river under a beaming sun and a blue sky with puffy white clouds scattered about. This was, after all, the land of the “long-haired army,” where large numbers of women had joined the fight and it was next to impossible to discern between a villager and a VC. Thankfully, there was no gunfire to disrupt the serenity.
We walked through a small village, briefly stopped at a cacao stand (feeve x2), and visited a mat-weaving house. Then we climbed into a xe-lôi (a kind of motorized rickshaw) and were taken to a quaint lunch spot tucked back into the trees. Pan-fried fish, peeled off the bone. Delicious.
Finally, we hopped into a sampan for another peaceful trip on the water. Eventually, we made it back to our car and into the city.
For some extra adventure, we explored farther into District 1 that night. We ate at the Ben Tranh Street Food Market and found an awesome rooftop bar that was practically empty. As the night crept on, there was a gravitational pull back to the craziness of backpackers street, so we claimed two more chairs at our usual spot and enjoyed a few rounds of beers as the scene unfolded around us. Funky balloon.
Day 10. Biting the Bullet in Saigon
A typical day of sightseeing on one of the hottest days of the trip. For some reason, we started with a meal of hot ass soup at an underground food court too.
After perusing the market, we went to the War Remnants Museum. Most of the exhibits were pretty depressing, particularly the War Crimes room, and the museum left something to be desired in terms of the overall experience.
Needing a pick-us-up, we cruised by the Reunification Palace, Norte Dame Cathedral and Post Office. We also wandered around three of the prominent streets, Nguyen Hue Le Loi, and Dong Khoi before finding a solid watering hole with craft ales. Then we bounced between two other rooftop bars to get different views of the cityscape and watch the sunset.
After ample rounds of cocktails, we decided to be bold and take Grab bikes back to our accommodation. Considering how wild the traffic was, it felt like a mandatory activity. Don’t worry, Mom, they gave us helmets.
Safe and showered, we snagged dinner from a very local spot on the corner of our street. Then it was time for a final hoorah. Another foray into the wonderful chaos. It’s a predictable story — squat gang, a balloon, and some beers on backpacker street.
During a trip down a miscellaneous alley, we accidentally entered the gauntlet. We got smothered by what seemed like 10 girls. It was at least 6. But who can be sure? In that moment, it was impossible to resist their charm and perseverance. A massage felt earned after the whirlwind trip anyway. Plus, it seemed like another piece of the “quintessential Asian experiences” puzzle. In the end, the massage was just ok. And, of course, I ended up paying more than necessary because you kind of lose track of currency exchange in the presence of beauty. I guess it’s not really a scam. Or is it the oldest scam in the book?
What can I say? Saigon. Feeve.
There was obviously a late-night banh mi to cap off the evening too. The most fitting way to end the trip.
The next day we killed off the morning by packing, eating and sharing some of the photos we’d taken. We hung out at the airport until we had to part ways for opposite terminals.
All in all, I think we had the best time on the nature legs of the journey. Boating in Ninh Banh, Halong Bay and the Mekong Delta was special. The allure of Hoi An was also a big highlight for me. The only drawback is that the activity list seemed a little short there. In contrast, even though I’m not a big city person, I loved the energy of Saigon and think we barely scratched the surface of what there is to do there. I wouldn’t mind spending a full week there, but I might have to be pried out of a small plastic chair somewhere between Hair of the Dog and The Dragon Pub.
Even though the 10 days flew by, we definitely crushed our itinerary. Trust me, we’ve got the pictures to prove it. I can’t wait to do it again in another part of the world. Or maybe we’ll just have to come back to relive some of the glory and tackle the places we didn’t get to discover.