The object of yesterday's travels were two-fold: To make my way to Saigon (aka Ho Chi Minh City) and to make a stop in Phan Thiet, a city where my old man was stationed during the Vietnam war. I was curious to see where dad had spent his time in 'Nam and of course he was interested in seeing how the city might have changed/been influenced by the American presence.
The nearby town of Mui Ne is along the tourist track as it's a small beachy town known for some Saharaesque sand dunes and kite-surfing on it's several kilometer long beach front so I began my day by taking a bus there. Upon arriving in the early afternoon, I rented a motorbike and rode the 30-odd kilometers to Phan Thiet. To be brutally honest, there's nothing really worth seeing in Phan Thiet--it's not even mentioned in my guidebook and the Vietnamese people where totally perplexed when I explained that's where I was heading. In any case, I'm glad I went due to the familial/historical connection and here's some snaps.
Welcome to Phan Thiet
In town
Beautiful boats...awfully fishy smell
For the bridge shot I parked my motorbike alongside a long row of other bikes nearby and immediately a young guy from a nearby shop came out and started sorta petting the bike and stuff. After trying to ask if it was ok to park there, I soon realized he was mentally challenged, gave up and just assumed it was no problem.
After snapping the bridge shot, I hopped back on my bike to explore the town further and quickly realized my rear-view mirror was missing! Dammit, I was sure the motorbike rental place was going to try and charge me an arm and a leg for "bike damage" so I tried to get back to the shop ASAP. Unfortunately, Phan Thiet is a bonafide city--not like the little towns or countrysides where I rented my other bikes. Left turns through busy, traffic-lightless intersections were a terrifying ordeal and I took to passing them, and doing the old three right hand turn trick to make my intended turn. Unfortunately this didn't always work out due to one-way streets, dead-ends etc. so it took me some time to get back to the shop.
When I got there, I tried to pantomime that my mirror was stolen (as this was not a tourist town, no one spoke any English whatsoever). I was afraid to point in dubious accusation at the mentally challenged kid who had shown intent interest in the bike before, fearing this would greatly offend them and finally the presumed father gestured that we would go take a ride (me driving, him on the back). Predictably he was underwhelmed with my progress through the city but eventually we made it to an auto repair shop where I bought and had installed a new rear-view mirror ($2.5 all together). When we got back to his shop, I was grateful for the help (even though I suspected some sort of racket was going on) and intimated I'd be happy to buy him a drink or something for the help. He just shook his head and held out his hand...seems even off the beaten track, the people know how to milk the foreigners for all they're worth.
I zipped around the city for a little longer, trying to find any landmarks that my dad might recognize, including the old landing strip but didn't have much luck. For one, I was too afraid to park my motorbike again, and for another the communication was a real challenge. So with that, I biked back to Mui Ne and pondered how to kill a lot of time before my sleeper bus to Saigon was scheduled to pick me up at 1:30 a.m. I was on my way to a bar or something around 5:00 when I passed a couple and asked them if they knew any good place to go. They suggested a place they were on their way to and invited me along which I was tremendously grateful for. They were a Belgian couple, Cliff and Lisa, in a similar time-killing situation although their 1:00 a.m. bus was headed in the opposite direction to Nha Trang. We spent a good amount of time chatting over cocktails and dinner and they were even so kind as to invite me to their hotel room which they had booked for the night to take a much needed shower and just hang out until the wee hours.
So now the ugly. We were all nodding off around 11:00 and woke up about a quarter to 1:00 a.m. so they could wait outside for their bus. I was told to be at my stop at 1:00 as well though it was scheduled to leave at 1:30 so we parted ways and I walked over to my stop. I will say that sitting alone in a sleepy little town in Vietnam at 1:00 a.m., waiting for a bus is quite an exercise in existentialism. 20 minutes later, Cliff and Lisa come by and say their bus hasn't arrived yet. 1:45 rolls by and neither of our buses have arrived and we really start to fret. To make a long story short, both of our buses were about 80 freakin' minutes late and all we could do to pass the time was be frustrated and get ravaged by insomniac mosquitoes. The bus ride to Saigon is only about 4.5 hours anyway so needless to say I did not get much sleep last night.
The bus ride from Nha Trang in the morning was equally unpleasant. Due to the incessant and unbelievably loud honking from the bus, I didn't get a moment of peace even though we were driving through some very nice countryside. Word of the wise to bus travelers in Vietnam: Sit in the middle of the bus to attenuate the sounds coming from your bus ahead of you, and vehicles behind.
So early this morning, I checked into a guidebook recommended hotel in Saigon and slept luxuriously in until noon.
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