Vietnam

On a dark rainy day, we were sitting in leather seats, looking out of the window of a luxurious Chinese bus headed down south to the border with Vietnam. The liquid from the A/C on the bus drained mainly on to Abby's seat, so we switched seats. Around us were other Western backpackers and a handful of Chinese businessmen traveling on the light. We finally had the crucial foreigner mass for the Chinese to refrain from smoking on the bus. After 4 bumpy hours we arrived at the border.

Abby went before the young Chinese female officer first. Some chatting. The perfunctory handing of the passport. Abby smiles. The officer types something into her computer and yells some gibberish to a colleague. She looks at the passport and back at Abby. Abby smiles. Turns her had sideways, and sneaks a 'wth' look at me. I keep my 'we're innocent foreigners' face expression. This goes on for a few more minutes, then Abby turns around and says that they don't believe that the passport picture is hers. What. I understand that the picture is relatively old, and that we may all look the same to them, but that was too much. A male officer clarified to us: "you look fat." That's the picture. Thanks. And how do you prove something like that? We used our cumulative eloquence and the familiar-by-now ape hand gestures to swear on our pinkies that the picture is Abby's, but that's all we could do. Anyway. After 20 minutes, as lunch break drew closer, they gave up and let us go. See ya later, China.

The story of Vietnam in a few pictures:

 

HANOI

Old Town Hanoi is as touristy and as congested as a town can possibly get. There are just as many Westerners in it as there are Vietnamese, and the locals are not too enthused about it. In fact, they hate Westerners. Our advantage – evolutionary larger body structure. Their advantage – motorcycles. And it feels like a cage match fight all the time.

The night markets. The vendors don’t haggle. They’re tired.

Christianity (Catholicism in particular) has a presence in Vietnam. More on this later.

Street food! Eat on a knee-high plastic table, sitting on a calf-high plastic stool. But the pho is amazing. The Vietnamese lady makes it with her bare hands: grabbing the noodles out of the noodle bucket, dipping the bowl into the caldron of soup, and sprinkling the mint and peanuts on. Uses same hands to take your money.

For their meals, the locals gather around, socializing.

The alternative to the street food: an all-you-can-eat conveyer-powered hot pot. Abby’s favorite :]

It is what it looks like. They’re cheating you out of quality liquor by putting snakes and scorpions in there.

This is the locals’ restaurant. The spread carpets in the building or on the sidewalk and have picnics for dinner.

 

 

HOI AN

Google Hoi An and you will discover that it is the tailor hotspot of the world. It is also known for tranquil beauty and picturesque countryside nearby.

 

While motorbiking around Hoi An, we were trying to find the Easy Riders, a loosely-connected group of Vietnamese men who take tourists on rides along the Ho Chi Minh trail, eating with the locals, and taking in the country’s natural beauty. Finally, on our last day in Hoi An, a few Easy Riders pulled in to our hotel, dismounting a large group of Spaniards. We had our men: Toni and Huang.