Tina Bellina's Travels & Tribulations

Back to Hectic Hanoi

Posted on 27 November, 2013 by Tina

Leaving Hoi An on Sunday morning made me a bit sad. I’d gotten used to the slow pace and relative quietness of the little town. Three Kiwis were sharing a driver with me to the Da Nang Airport. Of course, we struck up a conversation en route to the airport. They were actually on their way (back) to Thailand before returning to New Zealand. They complained about the breakfast at Vaia Hotel; said it was much better at whatever hotel they were staying at in Thailand. (I, myself, had no complaints about the breakfast at Vaia Hotel; rather liked it.) They’d also rented motorbikes and gone to Da Nang and Hue, but didn’t seem that enthralled by Hue. When we got on to the subject of shopping, they mentioned that two little girls had come up to them at a restaurant selling some sort of handmade dragonflies. The little girls specifically asked them for coins, which they gave to the girls. Apparently, moments later, the little girls came back, threw the coins at them, insisted that they weren’t real and took the dragonflies back! The Kiwis explained that their coins are different from the Aussies (the $1 coin is larger than the $2 or vice versa) and/or that their coins had recently changed. That’s why the little girls didn’t believe that they were authentic. Whatever, how rude for them to THROW the coins back at them!

My flight to Hanoi was non-eventful, though they gave me an actual window seat for that flight. My previously reserved driver was NOT at the Hanoi airport. After waiting for about 45 minutes, I gave up and decided to fight with the cab drivers. Employees at the airport informed me that the fare to the Old Quarter should be 350,000 dong, or about $17. As I walked out towards the taxis, a taxi driver immediately grabbed my suitcase and started loading it into his trunk. When asked what the fare would be, his response was “$25 U.S.” I told him that I would NOT be getting into the cab unless it was about 350,000 dong. He said that he had a meter. Yeah, WHATEVER!!! Then he simply mumbled “Ok,” as he finished putting my suitcase in the trunk and locked it. Somehow told me that I’d be going for a “ride,” in more ways than one. As usual, his English skills were supposedly very limited. He didn’t seem to know where the street was in the Old Quarter. When we got to the hotel, the meter read 440,000, which I thought was too high, of course. Then again, he wouldn’t give me my suitcase until the fare was paid. I resigned myself to getting ripped off yet again and gave him 450,000. Did he bother to give me change? No! Were we even directly in front of the hotel? No! Did he get out of the car to get my suitcase? No! He simply unlocked the trunk. Since he didn’t give me change (after ripping me off, anyway) and couldn’t be bothered to get out of the front seat to get my suitcase, I got it myself and purposely dragged it out rather than lifting it out, hoping to scratch his car a bit. When I walked into Art Boutique Hotel, I was less than thrilled, which they could see immediately. There had been a misunderstanding with the driver about the time of the flight, which in reality was my fault (long story). Even so, everyone was very apologetic. I inspected my room (comfy bed, flat-screen TV, laptop, mini bar, air conditioning, Western bathroom), took a shower and relaxed for a bit. Then I went to exchange money and asked the reception to suggest a spa in the area. Although the spa they suggested was close, the spa would pay for the customer’s taxi on the way there. I took a taxi to the extremely nice spa, had a massage and a manicure/pedicure with OPI polish and they called a taxi to take me back to the hotel. Of course, I asked the spa what the correct fare should be. They said no more than 20,000. The drive back to the hotel took no more than 5 minutes, if that. The meter read 140. I asked him specifically what the fare was and he said “140,000.” I said “That’s funny ’cause the spa said it would be no more than 20,000.” He seemed upset at that point, but pushed some button and the meter then said 14,000. I gave him 20,000 and he actually proceeded to give me change! What a shocker! I told him to keep the change, though, even though, as usual, he’d tried to rip me off.

That night, as I went to sleep, I cursed Hanoi and its taxi drivers!

Monday morning was my scheduled day trip to Mai Chau. At breakfast so many of the employees said “Good Morning” and addressed me by name. Either they were trying to make up for my bad first day back in Hanoi or it’s possible that they’re that attentive to all of their guests. The tour group was supposed to pick me up around 7:30 a.m. There was a mix-up, of course, as I was sitting in the lobby waiting for over an hour. The hotel manager, Chris, finally called to see what the hold up was. Someone arrived in a cab to pick me up closer to 9:00 a.m. We rushed to the van; Yours Truly was the last to board, as expected. In a nutshell, it was a long drive to Mai Chau. Once we got there, all but 2 of us were staying overnight. Everyone had lunch together. There was chicken, pork, noodles, rice, soup, etc. Lunch was included in the price of the tour, but we paid for our own drinks. The food was alright; most of it lacked flavor to me, although the chicken was really good. The two of us that were scheduled to leave later in the afternoon were to get started on our tour of the village early while the others finished their lunch. Our tour was supposed to be via bicycle. All of the bicycles on-site were a little too big for me. Even the shortest one was a stretch for my short legs! Although I explained not having a ridden a bike since my grade school days, they assured me that everything would be fine. I got on the bike, couldn’t quite control it due to my short legs and promptly ran into a pole! One tour guide kept telling the other that the bike was too big for me. Luckily, after my initial bike riding attempt, they decided to let the other man and me walk instead! The village was quiet as most of the children were still in school. We wandered about taking pictures of the houses and listening to our guide, Mei, explain their daily activities. She said that the people were known as Thai, although they’d immigrated from China. Their language didn’t necessarily sound like Thai to me, but their writing looked nearly the same. At least, with Mei there, I had her ask the locals if I could take their picture, which made things easier. One little boy was shaking my hand and hugging me when Mei insisted on taking pictures of us with my DSLR. Wouldn’t you know it? When I checked the pictures later, there was nothing. As everyone seems to do with my DSLR, when they’re holding the button halfway down and it makes noise, it’s only focusing; it’s NOT taking the photo. No one holds it down long enough. Thus, I didn’t get any pictures of what would have been my favorite photo op of the day. In hindsight, I should have handed her my point-and-shoot camera to take the pictures; most people seem to be able to operate that one. I enjoyed looking at the handicrafts – shirts, skirts, toys, whistles, braided bracelets, bags, belts, etc. The braided bracelets reminded me of those that surfers and skateboarders used to wear in L.A. in the 80’s! When it was time for us to catch the van back to Hanoi, we were still a ways away. Mei was worried that we might miss it; at first, she said we might have to run. Just then, someone pulled up on a motorbike and told me to jump on, as they would drive me to the van quickly. I jumped on, then Mei jumped on behind me. Someone else on another motorbike picked up the man that was with us and we were off! We made it back to the van in due time and settled in for our long drive back to Hanoi. Since it was raining slightly in Hanoi when we arrived, I decided to stay in for the evening rather than go out for dinner.

Inquisitive Pup at Mai Chau

Textiles in Mai Chau

A Typical Mai Chau House

Mei Modeling a Hmong Skirt

Weaver at Work

Burning the Fields

A Shy Little Boy

Categories: Food/Restaurants, Language, Photos, Travel | Tags: bicycles, Da Nang, Hanoi, Hoi An, Mai Chau, manicure, massage, OPI polish, pedicure, photos, pictures, spa, taxis, Vietnam | Leave a comment

Photography-Filled Saturday

Posted on 21 November, 2013 by Tina

Saturday dawned EXTREMELY early for me, having gotten up around 3:30 a.m. or 3:45 a.m. to shower, dress and pack my cameras and accessories. Downstairs in the lobby, one of the hotel staff was asleep on a sofa and another was asleep on a cot. I sat there quietly in the dark. The guy in the cot woke up to use the restroom. He was quite surprised to see me sitting there, but assumed that I was being picked up for a tour. He smiled and unlocked the front door, then went back to sleep. Hoi An Photography Tours arrived promptly in a van at 4:45 a.m. Rather than Etienne, who I’d spoken to on the phone, it was the other owner/partner, Pieter, who picked me up, along with his driver. I was the first person being picked up, but there was also a couple, a single man and another single woman (who said that her husband was still asleep at the hotel) who joined me. We were driven to a ferry landing by the river and sat at a table to wait for the ferry, as well as to discuss what to expect. A very lively and vocal group of locals was seated at an adjoining table playing some type of gambling game. Meanwhile, Pieter apologized that, although rain hadn’t been predicted in the morning, it was most definitely lightly raining. He explained that we’d take a ferry to a fishing village known as Duy Hai to take photos of the locals bringing in the morning’s catch. Alas, there would be no beautiful sunrise due to the clouds and rain. The ferry ride was relatively short. At the village, we first photographed boats and the people bringing in the catch, then walked through the streets taking pictures of whomever and whatever we found interesting. Beings I didn’t find the Vietnamese particularly friendly, it was slightly awkward to greet random people in either Vietnamese or English, smile and ask to take their picture. If asked, a fair amount of people simply said “No.” There was an elderly Vietnamese man who obviously thought that I was Vietnamese, too. He walked up to me, smiled and began speaking in Vietnamese. I said that I didn’t speak Vietnamese, though have no idea if he could understand me or not (probably not). I also tried speaking to him in French, but got no response other than a smile. (A side note: I’d asked if most local people spoke French, but was told that usually only the older people speak French nowadays.) The photo I was most set on getting was that of an elderly man with a Chairman Mao haircut rocking a baby in a hammock. I’d seen him from the corner of my eye inside a house. Although I was hesitant to walk up to the house, one of the other guys urged me to and went with me. The elderly man smiled when he saw me. I pointed to my camera and towards the baby and him. He kept smiling, which I took to mean “Yes.” So I took one photo of him with the baby, then another of the entire family together. For lunch, Pieter had asked each of us whether we preferred a meat or a vegetarian banh mi. We went to a little cafe-type place and someone delivered the banh mi to us there. Aside from the questionable meat, my banh mi was pretty tasty; liked the fact that it had actual peanuts and peanut sauce on it. After lunch, we visited a fish sauce factory to practice taking photos in low light. That was difficult for me, as the smell of the fermenting fish sauce in huge barrels nearly knocked me out. I snapped a few photos, but had to run out in the street for air! When our tour ended, Pieter called a cab for the other single woman who didn’t want to ride a bicycle and was afraid of motorbikes. For me, he got one of the locals to take me back to Hoi An via motorbike for $2.50. I put on the helmet, got on back and off we went. The only words spoken between us were when he asked the address of my hotel. At the hotel, he didn’t even pull up in the driveway, but across the street. As I rummaged through my pockets for the correct amount of money, he seemed perturbed. When I paid him and thanked him, he pointed to my helmet, took the helmet, took the money and drove off without a word. There’s that Vietnamese friendliness factor at work again!!!

Back at the hotel, I freshened up, dropped off my cameras and went to pick up my finished clothing from B’Lan Tailors. She’d ended up altering 2 dresses made in Bali for me, and making 2 dresses, 4 dress shirts and a pair of pants for me. Everything looked great and fit well. She also gave me a silk pouch for jewelry/lingerie/whatever, as she said I was her best customer that week.

By then, I was hungry again and went to Faifoo for lunch. Their 5-course lunch of mini plates was a bargain at around $6.00; I had white rose dumplings, fried wonton, and cau lau as part of my choices. I was originally seated downstairs. As the downstairs began to fill up, they asked if I’d prefer to sit upstairs, which was much nicer. I sat right next to the open terrace window with a nice view of the street, and was the only customer up there – my own private dining room! After lunch, I raced back to the hotel for a quick nap.

True to his word, Hai’s friend, Than, showed up at 1:00 p.m. to take me to his village on his motorbike. The ride through the countryside to the ferry was picturesque. Wouldn’t you know it? His village turned out to be the one that I’d already seen that morning?! He had no way of knowing. When I’d spoken to Hai the previous night, I’d also had no idea exactly where Hoi An Photography Tours was taking me! Than still drove me around the outer parts of the village to places I hadn’t seen that morning. I managed to get a few more pictures, especially at the ferry landing on our way back. There was a family with a pet pig, so I took a few pictures of the little girl playing on a table while the pet pig was in the foreground.

Back in Hoi An, I decided to do a few of the touristy things. I took a boat ride on the river just was it was getting dark. The $2.50 boat ride lasted half an hour. The woman didn’t speak English, but she yelled something to me & motioned for me to duck, just was I was about to have my head taken off by a bridge! Next up was an hour cyclo ride for $7.50. The guy stopped somewhere to take a picture of me, but it was out of focus, of course!

I showered off at the hotel and went to Ancient Faifo for my final meal in Hoi An. Ancient Faifo is one of their more expensive restaurants which is in a beautiful two-story building. They seated me upstairs without a reservation. It was about 1/4 full, mostly with Aussies. A Vietnamese woman was just finishing singing a traditional song. She was followed by a young man playing classical piano. I chose from a set menu that offered my choice of either an appetizer and an entree, or an entree and dessert. I chose the latter. My entree was chicken done 3 ways – in a roulade, in a salad and on skewers, also with chicken broth. The dessert was white and dark chocolate with slices of pineapple, dragonfruit and some orange, very musky melon. The food was quite good. With my glass of real French red wine, my total bill was something like $15, which I found very affordable. In fact, it was cheaper than my so-so Italian lunch at Good Morning, Vietnam the previous day and in a much more upscale atmosphere. The staff and service at Ancient Faifo were excellent, as well as very friendly.

Boats in Duy Hai

Local Woman in Duy Hai

Boys in Duy Hai

Than

Boat Ride Under the Bridge

Art in Hoi An

Categories: Entertainment, Food/Restaurants, Language, Photos, Travel | Tags: Ancient Faifo, art, B'Lan Tailors, Duy Hai, Faifoo, ferry, fishing village, food, Hoi An, Hoi An Photography Tours, photos, pictures, rain, restaurants, Vietnam | Leave a comment

I Need to Relax

Posted on 18 November, 2013 by Tina

so let’s do some chill out music for Musical Monday.

“Shake It Loose” – Mo Horizons

Categories: Music, Video | Tags: chill out, Mo Horizons, music, Shake It Loose, video | Leave a comment

Friday in Hoi An Sans Partners in Crime

Posted on 18 November, 2013 by Tina

My Friday plans were to pick up some of my clothes, boots and shoes. Of course, as I was trying to be productive, it began raining. Since I was caught outside without an umbrella, I stopped in at Faifoo for some wonton soup. After dawdling over the soup long enough for the rain to stop, I dashed over to the shoe maker. (In case I forgot to mention it in an earlier post, I’d decided on Wednesday, I believe, to have some boots and flats made at the shoe maker that Yum Yum had recommended.) My hopes weren’t too high for the outcome of the boots, but they were a very pleasant surprise. They looked very much like the photo, the leather was soft and they fit perfectly. The flats, which were made of fabric with little leather details (although lined in leather), were a little large. They were adorable, though. While I was admiring both the boots and the flats, they talked me into having another pair of flats made. The finished ones were of a blue print on a white background with beige leather details. The fabric I picked out for the soon-to-be-made flats was a red floral print on a white background to have red leather details. Both pairs of flats would be finished the following day, but the boots were ready for me to take right then. Kimmie Tailor was close to the shoe maker, so I dashed over there to pick up my dress and blouse. Alterations there had consisted of shortening the dress, taking it in at the sides and making the opening for the head a little bigger. The blouse had been taken in a little bit, too, to be more fitted at the top, yet looser at the bottom.

After dropping off my boots and clothing at the hotel and picking up an umbrella, just in case, I thought maybe it was time to see if there were any actual souvenirs or shopping that I wanted to do. There were a couple of great photography shops. It took me quite awhile to decide on a photo, but settled on one of two women in ao dais. I looked at other things in town, but nothing really grabbed my attention. As I said, prices aren’t usually marked and they kept giving me ridiculous quotes.

Lunch was an excuse to take a short break from Vietnamese cuisine and try out that highly-rated (on TripAdvisor) Italian place known as “Good Morning, Vietnam.” When I walked up to the restaurant, there was an elderly Caucasian man standing outside. He looked me up and down in a somewhat derogatory manner. When he realized that I was trying to get a glimpse of the menu, he moved to the side. They seated me immediately inside as there were no other visible diners, although there may have possibly been someone upstairs. The elderly man came in, seated himself at a table in the corner/back with a younger man and they began conversing in Italian. My assumption was that the younger man was the chef/owner and that the older man was his father. I was thinking of ordering some type of pasta and possibly either pizza or something else. The waitress said something like “Oh no! You should order pasta with (whatever)…” What did she know? Maybe I hadn’t eaten in 2 days or am typically a big eater! Neither of those is true, but I don’t appreciate when people tell me or suggest what I should eat without my asking their opinion. I eventually settled on bruschetta with pesto and cheese, as well as risotto ai funghi and a Coke. The bruschetta came on big rounds of bread, not small ones as is typical at most Italian restaurants. The glob of melted cheese on it seemed to be processed (whether it was or not), but the pesto was alright. The risotto was definitely better, but was too heavy for me to finish. During my lunch, the waitress and another girl (a hostess, perhaps) stood around staring at me 95% of the time. Beings there wasn’t anyone else in the restaurant in the beginning, maybe that couldn’t be avoided. However, they could have been busying themselves with other work as opposed to watching my every bite. Eventually, another customer came in, an American man, who sat at the table next to mine. He was ordering bruschetta, but did NOT want one with pesto. There was some type of misunderstanding between the waitress and him, so the owner/chef came over to intervene. The customer apologized, then the chef/owner apologized because the waitress couldn’t understand. When they’d gotten his order straightened out, the chef/owner leaned over in my direction and said “Enjoy your meal!” Though appreciated, the sentiment came a little too late. I paid my bill, which was expensive for Vietnam, and left.

After lunch, I walked by the travel agency that D. and I had been in the day before when she was inquiring about Siem Reap and some island. I was semi-interested in taking an afternoon sunset photography tour the next day given by Hoi An Photo Tours. After making a phone call, the agency told me that there would be no afternoon sunset tours either Friday or Saturday; only the morning sunrise tour would be offered on Saturday. My reservations about taking the morning sunrise tour were being picked up at 4:45 a.m. and riding a bike back to Hoi An. The girl at the agency eventually put me on the phone with one of the tour operators, a Frenchman named Etienne. He said that if I was dead set against taking a bike ride back to Hoi An, a local could give me a motorbike ride back to Hoi An or a taxi could be called, but it would be an extra charge paid out of pocket. Neiither of those options would cost me more than $10, if that much, so I signed up for the tour, with the stipulation that I did NOT have to ride a bike back to Hoi An!

Later that afternoon I stopped off for a drink at Q Bar, a very nice bar that was playing “party” music. I sat outside, though, to people watch. While we’d been having $0.19 glasses of bia hoi the night before across the river, I was partaking of “expensive” LaRues at Q Bar for $2.50! While chilling outside, a drunken Aussie girl was dancing wildly in the street. A little Vietnamese boy that looked to be about 1 1/2 to 2 years old toddled up next to her and tried to emulate her dancing. She was so wrapped up in herself thst she didn’t even notice. It was so funny! Then one of her friends stomped out of the restaurant/bar, grabbed her and said “The tourists are NOT going to be coming here to watch YOU! Get inside!”

Dinner that night was to be at Hoi An Moon Restaurant. Beginning with my very first day in Hoi An, one of the waiters would stand outside and beg me to have lunch or dinner there. I would always say “Soon.” Preferring to be a person of my word, Friday would be the night. I was probably there around 8:30 p.m. in a dress even! It was not MY waiter that greeted me or seated me upstairs. “My” waiter was already upstairs chatting up a couple who were nearly done with their dinner. The restaurant is quite lovely inside, though it’s gotten mixed reviews as far as the food. I went with my by-now standard white rose dumplings and bun cha. By that time, “my” waiter came over to greet me and chat. His name is Hai and he’s super friendly and full of energy. He asked how my week had gone, when my departure would be and what my plans for the following day would be. When he heard that I was doing a photography tour in the morning, he said that I should have spoken to him first! He assured me that one of his friends could take me out in the countryside to their village to take photos for a much cheaper price. He convinced me to go with his friend on Saturday afternoon and we agreed on a price of $10 for an hour’s time. I paid Hai. He told me not to worry – that his friend would pick me up at the hotel at 1:00 p.m. If his friend didn’t show up for any reason, I could go back to the restaurant and he’d refund my money. Yeah, he was quite the salesman, but he put out great energy and seemed very honest. Besides, $10 wouldn’t kill me; Hanoi taxi drivers had ripped me off for that much! Before my food arrived, I walked around the restaurant to take a few pictures. Hai took one of me, too! The white rose dumplings were fine, but I wouldn’t rave about them. The bun cha, however, was excellent. Bun cha is grilled pork (patties or sausage) over vermicelli noodles with a heaping plate of fresh herbs and either broth or a dipping sauce. Super yum!

Thus, my Friday ended on a good note. Had it not been for the scheduled 4:45 a.m. pick-up on Saturday morning, I might have had a few drinks back at Faifoo, Q Bar, Green Mango or even The Meet Market!

Boots Made in Hoi An

Flats Made in Hoi An

The Picture that Hai took of Me

Bun Cha from Hoi An Moon Restaurant

Interior of Hoi An Moon Restaurant

Another View of Interior of Hoi An Moon Restaurant

Categories: Drinking, Food/Restaurants, Photos, Travel | Tags: boots, bruschetta, bun cha, clothes, food, Good Morning Vietnam Restaurant, Hoi An, Hoi An Moon Restaurant, Hoi An Photo Tours, Kimmie Tailor, Q Bar, restaurants, risotto ai funghi, shoe makers, Vietnam, white rose dumplings | Leave a comment

Last Day With Friends in Hoi An

Posted on 16 November, 2013 by Tina

Although my alcohol intake had been much higher on Wednesday night than on Tuesday night, I woke up on Thursday morning feeling better than I had on Wednesday morning! I was moving around a little slower, though. Thus, it took me a tad longer to shower, eat breakfast and get all of my miscellany together to go out for the day. Just as I was about to walk out the door, my phone rang (the one in my room, not my cell phone). It was D. She said that the hotel had made a mistake. Although she’d wanted them to reserve a room for her for two nights, they’d only reserved it for one. Therefore, she was calling to tell me that she was checking out momentarily and didn’t know where she’d be staying. I told her that the solution was simple – she could stay in my room for the second night. She thought it might cost more if there were two of us in the room, but I assured her that the rate was the same for either 1 or 2 people in a room. She said that wasn’t the case in Germany. Either way, it didn’t matter to me. If they charged a bit more for her being in the room, then she could pay me the difference if she wanted, as I’d already paid for the room in full months ago. She thanked me, intended to ask at reception as she checked out of her room and said she’d be up in 15 minutes or so. When she showed up at my door, she told me that I’d been right; there was no difference in the room rate for 1 or 2 people. She was just incredibly happy to not have to go in search of another hotel room. As I was about to leave and have more fittings with the tailors, I asked what her plans were. She needed to mail something at the post office, which just happened to be down the road from us, but also asked if I was interested in getting a massage. Like me, she’d had a massage on Wednesday. Unlike mine, hers had been great. Her massage place was also down the road from our hotel, but in the opposite direction from the post office. We agreed to get a massage first, go to the post office, possibly grab something to eat, then I could make my rounds between the two tailors.

The massage place had a name that I don’t recall, but there were 6 or 8 beds in the front with big, billowy curtains around them. I opted for the one hour hot stone massage, but she decided on a one hour Thai massage. Our beds were opposite from each other. We undressed down to our panties, laid down and were covered with a sheet. My hot stone massage wasn’t quite like the ones in the U.S. or even like the ones in Bali, but it was a good massage. It’s just that the actual use of hot stones was rather minimal in comparison to ones I’d had before. That being said, it was a thousand times better than my massage the previous day. When our massages were done, D. asked if I’d be interested in getting a facial as well. That was fine by me. We both decided on the same type of facial. This time our beds were parallel to each other. Oddly to me, they told us to lay down (fully dressed) and didn’t cover our chests with anything. The girl who was giving me a facial seemed to do so in a quick and sloppy manner. She’d put some type of liquid or other on my face, do a strange butterfly-type massage, wipe off the stuff, then repeat with a new liquid. That didn’t bother me as much as the fact that they hadn’t covered our eyes, either. Every other spa that I’d gone to before (in the U.S. and outside of the U.S.) had covered my eyes with a cloth. Not this girl. She globbed so much stuff on my eyes that I could feel it seeping down into my contacts, as well as onto my top. I didn’t mind the first two times, then I asked her to please NOT put anything on my eyes. Her response “Are you ok?” After a few minutes, she put stuff on my eyes again, but maybe slightly less! I was no longer relaxed at that point, but getting annoyed. It ended soon enough, though, because it was time to cover my face with cucumber slices. I’ve hated when that’s done, too, because the coldness and the weight of the cucumber slices makes me feel as if I’m going to smother. Of course, the facial description hadn’t mentioned that this one would have the cucumber treatment. I just wanted it to be over. When it was, I definitely had goop in/on my contacts, making them a little cloudy. The corners of my eyes hurt a little as well; I was merely hoping that it wasn’t the start of an eye infection. We tipped the girls and left. I explained to D. that, while the massage was wonderful, the facial kind of pissed me off! She said that she could sort of watch what my girl was doing out of the corner of her eyes; she also thought that girl was messy and not very good. You can’t complain too much, though, when your total bill for a massage and a facial comes to $20 or less.

Next stop was the post office. Luckily for D., there was only one couple in there, so she got her stuff mailed out quickly and efficiently. Since the post office was in the vicinity of some famous restaurant called the Ba Le Well Restaurant, we decided to go in search of it. After asking about 3 people for directions, we came upon it. The restaurant is decidedly local, with both indoor and outdoor seating. We chose to sit outside. They asked if we wanted tea or coffee, but didn’t bring us a menu of any type. We both got tea, but, once again, Vietnamese tea is horrible. Neither of us had more than a few sips. Next they brought out a huge plate of rice paper skins, along with plates of greens and herbs, nem, banh xeo, chicken and pork satay, and several sauces. They showed us how to take a rice paper roll, stick a little bit of everything in, dip it in a sauce and eat. That was obviously not going to happen with chopsticks, not even for someone who’s a PRO with them! I used my hands, but D. wanted a fork. The waitress explained that it’s meant to be eaten with your hands, but D. still wanted a fork. They complied with her request and we constructed our “rolls” and ate them any old way we wanted! D. had also already managed to spill something on her white clothing, so asked for napkins. They didn’t really have napkins, so brought us some newspaper! We ate until we were stuffed, although there was still a fair amount left over. Our lunch ended with a choice of chocolate or vanilla pudding. The bill was about $10 apiece. D. found it expensive, which it kind of was for Vietnam and the atmosphere. Yet I told her that the price was supposedly all-inclusive and (I believe) was for as much food as you could eat. In other words, if we could actually have finished all of that, they would have brought us more.

Then it was on to the tailors. D. basically watched me put on a fashion show at B’Lan during my fitting. She thought the dresses were beautiful and the dress shirts looked expensive. When we went to Kimmie Tailor, she didn’t get to see me in either that dress or blouse, as the fittings were conducted upstairs while the general public sat downstairs choosing fabric and asking questions. Forgot to mention that on Wednesday, I’d said “WTF” and decided to have boots and shoes made at the shoe maker recommended by Yum Yum. I’d taken in my pictures of a pair of boots and a pair of flats from Anthropologie. They’d taken my measurements, let me choose my leather/fabric, took a deposit and said that they’d be finished the following day. I didn’t feel like going by that Thursday, though; felt it could wait until Friday, as I wasn’t leaving until Sunday, which gave them plenty of time for adjustments, if need be.

We stopped in at a travel agency, as D. was going to Siem Riep next (the following morning, in fact) and had a few questions about hotels and transportation. We also perused some tailors as she wanted to check out different types of fabric. While doing this, we ran into our Aussie friend, J. He said that his mom was resting back at the hotel while he went in search of a place to get his hair cut. They were also flying out in the morning, had a long layover in Ho Chi Minh City before their final destinations, but that he’d be back at work on Saturday and wanted to look presentable. D. decided to go back to the hotel and look up some things on the free laptops in the lobby. Meanwhile, I accompanied J. in search of a salon. We were unable to find the one he’d been recommended, but found another one that seemed geared to women. He hesitated, but I told him that surely the woman would be able to cut his hair; he wasn’t looking for some fancy, schmancy new ‘do, but a simple cut, after all! As he got his hair cut, then washed (while laying back in a huge zebra print chair), I took pictures and made videos of the process, to keep ourselves amused. Oddly, he ignored my suggestion to get a Chairman Mao cut with green tips! Afterwards, we went shopping, kind of. He told me that his mom and he had ended up having 5 pairs of shoes made at the first shoe maker that I’d gone to. He’d also seen some boots that he liked somewhere and wanted to show them to me. We meandered all through the town, but were actually heading in the direction of my hotel. He found the exact shoe maker and showed me the boots, which I thought looked great on him. He was wondering if he should have a slightly bigger size. Although they didn’t have the size he needed, they assured him that they could have a pair ready for him before dinner that night! His final decision was against getting the boots because (a) he didn’t really need them and (b) they were too “pretty” for him! We walked a little further ’cause I’d found those pop-up cards for less than a dollar at a place near the shoe shop. We went in and drove that poor salesgirl crazy asking to see everything, wanting more of some and deciding against others. I must have bought 8 cards and he bought 5 or 6. When you think about it, they were totally worth the price. A plain card in the U.S. now goes for $2.00 to $4.00. These were nifty pop-up ones that were done very well. I promised to send J. one of Sydney Harbor if he’d send me one of the Eiffel Tower! With that, we parted ways as I had to go freshen up before all of us met for dinner that night.

At the hotel, D. was in the lobby on one of the free laptops. She’d gotten lost on her way back to the hotel, so had only arrived about half an hour before me! She’d already showered, though, so I went upstairs to take a quick shower, too, since it wasn’t long before our planned meeting with the Aussies.

We met at the same place as the previous night, then walked across the bridge to the other side of the river and found a restaurant for dinner. The restaurant was one where they trained young teens to work in the hospitality industry. I admit, everyone who worked there was extremely nice and attentive. My dinner choice was the mi quang. Although it was good, it didn’t even come close to the flavor of the one from the roadside stand. After dinner, we walked further down to the fish and chips place to drink “fresh” beer (as opposed to flat beer?!). Actually, fresh beer is known as bia hoi. That restaurant was selling it for the equivalent of $0.19 per glass, so we had several! Over drinks, the 4 of us also exchanged information so that we could stay in touch, share our photos, etc. Forgot to mention that as we walked to that restaurant, one of L.’s young Vietnamese fans saw her, patted her on the shoulder and said “Hi, Mom. How are you?” She was startled at first, until she realized that it was one of the guys from the Meet Market. Of course, I teased her endlessly. Anyways, when the evening ended, the 4 of us hugged it out. D.’s driver was picking her up at 7:00 a.m., while the Aussies’ driver was picking them up at 7:30 a.m. Obviously, they’d most likely see each other at the Da Nang airport. For me, I was a little sad that everyone was leaving. What would I do in Hoi An without them?

D. with our Bounty at Ba Le Well Restaurant

J. Getting His Hair Washed

Pop-Up Cards

Food Vendor

Categories: Drinking, Food/Restaurants, Friends, laptop, Photos, Travel | Tags: B'Lan Tailor, bia hoi, boots, cobblers, facial, hair cut, Hoi An, Kimmie Tailor, massage, Meet Market, salon, shoe makers, spa, tailors, Vietnam | Leave a comment

Hey, Shorty, It’s My Birthday!

Posted on 12 November, 2013 by Tina

After my all day motorcycle tour with Son, I showered up and met the Aussies, J. and L., at our usual spot. I actually sat at a table in the front while waiting for them. When they walked up, they had two other Aussies with them, M. and J2, whom they’d also met at a tailor shop! It was the first trip to Vietnam for M and J2, but they’d recently come from Thailand and Burma. Apparently, on their first trip to Burma, they were so moved by the plight of children there that they’d gone back several times to help orphanages, raise donations and volunteer wherever they could. They were great fun, so we decided to drink some actual cocktails since it was Happy Hour. Happy Hour in Vietnam is a bit of a joke to us. Happy Hour is every day, nearly all day. (I shouldn’t tease too much, as New Orleans has many places that have Happy Hour for the better half of the day and serve 3 for 1 drinks as well!). It’s just that the Vietnamese don’t seem to understand the concept of what a true Happy Hour is. Some places have Happy Hour at specific times, but no special pricing. Some have the same cheap prices all day, yet insist that it’s Happy Hour. Other people try to get you to buy things by saying that it’s Happy Hour. There at Faifoo, Happy Hour was from 3 to 8 daily, or something like that, and involved 2 for 1 drinks. I went for Cuba Libre; J., J2 and M had cocktails as well, but L. was sticking with her Dalat Red. We laughed, talked and drank for an hour to an hour and a half, with the inevitable kids walking up trying to sell us everything under the moon! Oh, those little girls are sharp. They usually go straight for the men, working their “cuteness” factor as much as possible. One little girl deemed J2 “Buddha,” as she patted his stomach, while calling J “Boy” at first, only to upgrade him to “Handsome Boy” moments later. “Handsome Boy” stuck, as I continued to address J. in that manner through the remainder of our days in Hoi An! M. and J2 caved under the pressure and bought something useless from the little girl. It appeared to be a disco-ball-looking thingamajig that played “Gangnam Style.”

The 5 of us had dinner at a restaurant overlooking the river, sitting downstairs at one of the front tables, of course. Everyone ordered a dish, then we shared them amongst ourselves. Unfortunately for me, 2 of the dishes contained calamari (or “calamary,” as it was written on the menu) and another had eggplant. Beings those are 2 of my most disliked foods, I ate lots of fried rice and continued drinking Biere LaRues instead! Of course, we got the hard sell from several kids, too. One guy was selling “pop-up” cards that were cute. Some had pop-up birthday cakes, others had Eiffel Towers, others had sailboats and so on. When asked the price, he said something akin to 80,000 (i.e. $4), although J. and L. said they’d seen them in Saigon for 20,000 (i.e. $1 or slightly less). For the most part, he stuck to his guns on the price, only giving a very minute discount if we bought 2. We eventually sent him away without making a sale at all. While sitting there, we also noticed that there were boats on the river, literally right in front of us, that had drinks, small snacks and live music. If I make a return trip to Hoi An, I’m going to spend an evening drinking on one of those! After a few hours, the river had risen enough that it was nearly impossible for us to walk on the street in front of the restaurant. They kindly let us out the back, though.

J., L. and I agreed to meet for lunch the following afternoon at the fish and chips restaurant across the river. I wandered back to my hotel and collapsed into my comfy bed.

When I woke up on Wednesday morning, I felt slightly hung over! The only cure was a long, hot shower and to eat breakfast immediately. This was my day to begin taking more serious, somewhat artistic photos in Hoi An with my DSLR. I strapped it around my neck and went in search of photogenic people and spots.

Wednesday was also my birthday. The majority of my birthdays have been huge busts. I didn’t plan anything this year, other than NOT to be in San Francisco! I figured that a massage, facial, some drinks and a nice dinner somewhere would do me good, even if it was just me. J. and L. knew it was my birthday because I’d mentioned having drinks with them that night in celebration. When we met at the fish and chips place, all 3 of us were hungry. L. DID go for the fish and chips that afternoon, I had the white rose dumplings (was quickly becoming a favorite of mine) and fried wontons, and J. had the white rose dumplings as well. J. and I had our Biere LaRues, as if there were any doubt. I’d explained to J. about my chopsticks handicap. I may be Asian, but my chopsticks dexterity is at a kindergarten level. People always hand me chopsticks first BECAUSE I’m Asian. I can use chopsticks (though not very well), but it will take me 3 times as long to finish a meal! As we got ready to chow down, J. handed me chopsticks, of course. I basically told him to quit making a spectacle of me! I assured him that it wouldn’t be a pretty sight, nor would my lunch be finished until right before dinner! He had learned to use chopsticks from his stepmom, who’s part Chinese. He’d also lived in Shanghai. Well, that’s an unfair advantage, if ever I’d heard one! “Don’t tell me that you speak Mandarin, too!” I teased. Well, you know what, he DOES speak Mandarin, too. Maybe he’s a fine, upstanding Aussie gentleman or maybe he felt bad that he’s more Asian than me (!), but he insisted on buying my birthday lunch. Thanks, Handsome Boy!

That afternoon was extremely hot and humid, with not a drop of rain. I went in search of another massage while they went back to their hotel to rest. The spa I decided on was somewhere near my hotel, yet the massage was nothing special. Due to the lack of pressure, it felt more like a rubdown. The manicure afterwards was even worse. There was no base coat and it took forever for the nail polish to dry. Even so, my nails didn’t look too bad for dinner that night. Little did I know that I would awake the following morning to find sheet marks all over my nails. That was some seriously cheap polish if it still wasn’t completely dry after an evening out! On my next trip to Asia, I’ll bring my own polish!

That evening we met in front of Green Mango. Though the restaurant was beautiful, it had prices to match. D, the German woman that I’d met in Halong Bay, joined us, too. To make a long story short, she’d arrived in Hoi An on Tuesday and left a message at my hotel. I tried calling her at her hotel, as well as sending her an E-mail, but got no response. She ended up coming back to my hotel and checking in there. We’d exchanged messages via the front desk, though we hadn’t seen each other all day! That, in a nutshell, is how she came to join us for dinner that night. We walked several blocks down to a wine bar called White Marble and ordered a bottle of Dalat White for the 4 of us. After traveling through France & Italy, having a French ex-husband, an Italian boyfriend, and living near Napa and Sonoma, I’m a little biased about my wine. Dalat White kind of turned my stomach. It was certainly better than any of that Hatten Wine from Bali, but that’s not saying much. While drinking the wine, D. explained to us that her original hotel was out near the beach, too far from the main part of town. Not only that, but the limited English of the staff meant that they could barely understand anything that she said or needed. That’s why she switched to my hotel. When we finished the wine, we perused restaurant menus and settled on Sakura Restaurant. They seated us upstairs outside with a beautiful view overlooking the river. The best part was that no one hassled us to buy anything! The down side is that everyone ordered and shared again, but they messed up my order. D. had ordered calamari (or calamary, as they seem to like to call it in Hoi An). Although I’d ordered chicken, they brought me calamari, too! I didn’t want to bother with sending it back. I ate big portions of salad, soup, rice and drank even more Biere LaRues!

When dinner was over, as a fluke, we decided to cross the river to a little place that was blaring music. We were hoping for some pole dancing action, or the chance to try some pole dancing ourselves! It was a real dive bar called The Meet Market (obvious play on words here). J. and I were already a little loopy, but the drink menu cracked us up. They had wishky, Bacadi, JagerMejfter and Black Babel. If that was any indication, it was going to be a hell of an oddball night! (Something tells me that all of those misspelled spirits would be a good accompaniment to calamary.) For the most part, we stuck with the Biere LaRues, which were less than a dollar. J. kept me well supplied all night. The 4 of us decided to play a game of pool, which was an adventure in itself. Not only had L. and D. never played a game of pool in their lives, but some of the balls were missing, there was no chalk and no bridge. J. set up the table as best he could and broke. We tried to explain the game to L. and D., but half the time they weren’t even shooting at the cue ball, but anything close to them! Their shooting technique often looked like they might rip the felt and they often missed whatever ball they were using as a cue ball completely! Neither J. or myself are pool sharks, either, but everything was more hilarious in our inebriated state. A couple of people had gathered to watch our “game,” but walked away quickly in confusion and/or disgust! Two people even challenged J. and me to a game, but we politely declined, to their benefit and to what would surely be our further embarrassment! As the next couple took over the table, they asked me where the triangle was and whether we had any of the balls. I assured them that not all of the balls were there to begin with! L., who’s probably in her 60’s, had asked at one point if she should just go back to the hotel, but we didn’t want her to leave. She eventually sat outside to get some air while D., J. and I continued being obnoxious. We changed the playlist to include “Gangnam Style,” danced wildly, engaged in a little limbo, wrote on the wall and generally created mayhem. A guy who’d been dancing with various women suddenly grabbed L. out of her seat and had a few rounds with her on the dance floor. After that, several young Vietnamese guys surrounded her and were carrying on conversations with her. “That one must be all of 24,” I teased her. “He’s 21!” she corrected me! Meanwhile, I wanted to take pictures with J. underneath the sign that said Meet Market. I gave my cell phone to D. (because my memory card in my camera was full, naturally) and dragged J. over to the sign. As she was getting ready to take a picture, he grabbed me and lifted me up, to my complete surprise. Some other guys helped lift me up, too, for the photo’s sake. Most of the cell phone photos came out blurry, but it was funny nonetheless. When the place closed down at 2:00 a.m., some of the clientele asked us to join them at the Backpackers Bar, which was nearby. We were more than ready to go to bed, though. As D. and I walked in the direction of our hotel, several of the young Vietnamese guys on their motorbikes were escorting L. and J. back to their hotel. All down the street, I could hear “Mom, you come with me. I give you ride… slowly.” Others simply kept calling her name. It may have been my birthday, but SHE was getting all of the attention! LOL!

For having nothing in particular planned, this was one of the best and most fun birthdays I’ve ever had, with people that I’d met a mere 4 days earlier!!! Maybe solo birthday travel should be on my agenda every year!

At Sakura Restaurant

D. Shooting Pool

Me In the Throes of Inebriation

The Drink Menu

Categories: cell phone, Drinking, Food/Restaurants, Friends, Language, Photos, Travel | Tags: Biere LaRue, birthday, Faifoo Restaurant, Gangnam Style, Green Mango Restaurant, Hoi An, limbo, manicure, massage, Meet Market, photos, pictures, Sakura Restaurant, travel, vacation, Vietnam | Leave a comment

Yeah, Yeah, I Know

Posted on 11 November, 2013 by Tina

I DID almost forget Musical Monday today. You’ll get another two-fer today – a music video AND a video from Vietnam. How you like THEM apples?!

Since I’m feeling a little sentimental again, here’s the perfect song. You know how it is when everything is going wrong in someone’s life, they’re stressed and you just want to be there for them. This song is appropo.

“Pair of Wings” – Justin Timberlake

And now for a little personal video of the first ferry that I rode on in Vietnam:

Waiting for the Ferry in the Rain – Vietnam

Categories: Music, Travel, Video | Tags: "Pair of Wings, ferry, Justin Timberlake, motorbike, music, rain, video, Vietnam | Leave a comment

Easy Rider For A Day

Posted on 11 November, 2013 by Tina

On Tuesday, October 22nd, I’d booked an all-day motorcycle tour (as a passenger) with Easyrider Hoi An. Arrangements had been made via E-mail, with payment to be made the day of the tour. The company assured me that rain gear would be provided and that nothing less than a typhoon would cancel the tour.

My tour guide, Son Nguyen, was at my hotel promptly at 8:00 a.m. I paid him the agreed-upon fee and we “saddled up,” so to speak. Rather than being driven about on those little motorbikes that are popular all over Southeast Asia, this was a real “big boy” motorcycle. The back seat was higher than the front and he’d padded it extra for me, in order to make it comfortable for what ended up to be an 8 hour plus ride. Not sure what to expect weather-wise, I chose to wear jeans, a T-shirt, a hoodie and some canvas shoes. My cameras and iPad Mini were tucked into my extra roomy purse. Son was a very nice man in his late 40’s who took excellent care of me. He spoke English, though my understanding of English as spoken by most Vietnamese was not that comprehensible. He tried to be as informative as possible, however. The tour began with him pointing out things to me here and there – water buffalo, piglets going to market on the back of a motorbike, memorials from the Vietnam War and so on. We stopped for tea. After trying it several times, I can honestly say that Vietnamese tea is far from my favorite. As we were getting back on the bike, Son gave me a bottle of water to quench my thirst along the way. We stopped another time so that he could show me a place where rice crackers were being made; that was interesting. We also stopped and climbed around up in the hills a bit to check out the pineapples. The pineapples in Vietnam are much smaller than the ones in Hawaii. While he was showing me the pineapples, a female pineapple worker happened by. She was picking pineapples, of course. I wanted to take a picture of her, which she agreed to. Then Son decided to take a picture of her and me together. She asked him how old I was. Come to find out, we were the same age! She has 7 children, though, and obviously lives a hard life. I can’t imagine having 1 child, let alone 7! Our next pit stop was at a little roadside stand selling fresh pineapple. We sat down and a woman cut, peeled and cored a pineapple for me. I like pineapple, but usually only eat a few slices. As I was a few slices into it, she brought me a little container of seasoning. Come to find out, it was salt with chili and herbs. Once that was sprinkled on the pineapple slices, I probably ate two and half times more pineapple than is normal for me! It was SOOO good! Son laughed when he saw how much I was enjoying it. I asked if he was going to eat any, but he politely waited until I was finished. Once I insisted that my stomach was too full to eat any more, he polished off what was left. Back on the motorcycle, we headed up in the mountains. Forgive me for not knowing exactly where we were. It could have been the Marble Mountains and Hai Van Pass. He DID say something about it being part of the Ho Chi Minh Trail. Meanwhile, I was hanging off the back of the motorcycle trying to take photos and make videos! Son was a little concerned about my lack of sun cream. I assured him that, being brown, the chances of me burning are about 5%. Not long after we descended the mountain, it began to sprinkle. Although Son had one rain poncho with matching pants in his bag, he stopped to get another rain poncho for me. I put the poncho on, making sure that my cameras were safely covered and was ready to take off again. He tried to get me to put the rain pants on, too, but I declined. “You’ll get wet!” he admonished me. “I dry,” I assured him. That’s about the time that the rain began to come down in sheets. Honestly, it didn’t bother me. Not only was it rather exhilarating, but he was a very safe driver. At some point, we stopped momentarily to see some ethnic minority people. They weren’t in any special village or anything. He explained that they could understand Vietnamese, but he couldn’t understand their dialect. He also joked (or maybe it wasn’t a joke) that the women of this ethnic minority group did all of the work, while the men usually lay around, drink and occasionally babysit. Shortly after, he asked if I was ready for lunch. He said that we could eat before going to see My Son or after, but thought the food was better in the area that we were currently in. Whatever worked for him was fine with me. We pulled off to another little roadside stand that specialized in Mi Quang, rice noodles and (in this case) chicken in a broth seasoned with black pepper, shallots, garlic, fish sauce, hard boiled eggs, peanuts and chilis. He explained how to eat it. Basically, several bunches of fresh bean sprouts, mint, basil, banana flower and lettuce are put over the noodles, chicken and broth, lime juice is squeezed over everything, rice crackers are crushed on top, everything is mixed together and you dig in. I’m picky about my meat, so the chicken bits (bones, dark meat, skins) didn’t exactly thrill me, but the rest of it was incredibly flavorful. I picked some of the chicken out, as politely as possible. Without the chicken in it, I probably could have easily eaten two bowls, even with my chopstick handicap! That’s one of those dishes that I will dream about! While eating, two more Easyrider Hoi An drivers pulled up with their two charges – an Aussie girl and a Danish girl. They were stopping for lunch, too, at least until the rain abated a bit. We hopped back on the motorcycle and took off. It was quite a ways yet to My Son and the rain continued to pour on and off. Still, I got to see rice paddies, water buffalo, egrets, water lilies, lotus ponds and the sweetest thing of all – a tiny little boy “herding” ducks along the road, with his grandma. We were driving by so quickly that I didn’t have enough time to get my camera ready and get a shot off.

My Son is a group of abandoned Hindu temples that were sacred to the kings of Champa; they were constructed sometime between the 4th and 14th centuries. Son waited at the entrance where there were tables and refreshments. He pointed out the map to me and told me to take my time. There are 4 or more groupings of ruins. The main one is the most photographed and most impressive. I hiked up some little hills, down paths, across little bridges, etc. and, hopefully, saw everything. It took me about an hour and a half; I was getting really sweaty by then, slogging along in my soaked jeans and canvas shoes,

Next up, he took me to a place where brooms were being made, as well as to see some weaving. We took a ferry across a river in the rain, which was one of my favorite parts of the day. It definitely wasn’t some modern, fancy ferry. Everyone rides their motorbikes on the ferry as well. While we were waiting for the ferry to arrive, there was a young blind man asking for money. Son gave him some money. As he was attempting to give him some more, he dropped it. Since he was still sitting on the motorcycle and I was, by now, standing next to it, I picked up the money and touched the blind man lightly on his hand. He opened his palm and I put the money in his hand. By then, the ferry was arriving. The arriving motorbikes took their turns driving off, with the departing motorbikes/motorcycles taking their turns driving on. As we left on the ferry, the blind man sat on the edge of the swollen river, staring with his sightless eyes, in the pouring rain, at things he could not see. I regret not taking that photo of him, but the image will stay forever.

To end the tour, Son intended to take me to see two waterfalls. It wasn’t meant to be, though. There had been a typhoon in the area the previous week. Many trees had been knocked down and were still blocking the roads to both of the waterfalls. Thus, he decided to take me on another ferry back to Hoi An.

Once we were back in Hoi An, he asked if he could buy a drink for me. I didn’t mind; he was very nice and the entire day with him went comfortably. We sat outside on our little plastic stools somewhere off the beaten path drinking our Biere LaRues straight out of the can. By that time, it must have been 6:15 p.m. I explained that I needed to get back to the hotel, shower, change and meet the Aussies for dinner around 7:30 p.m. We headed back to the hotel, I gave him a tip and that was the end of my all day motorcycle tour. He told me that the next time I’m in Vietnam, I should do the overnight tour, which would give me more of a chance to see the ethnic minority villages.

If you’re interested in doing a similar motorcycle tour when in the Hoi An, Da Nang or Hue areas, please contact him at:

E-mail: namson7066@yahoo.com

Telephone: 0974-374-138

Telephone: 0510-626-02-07

Me With the Pineapple Picker

Son and our Mi Quang

Waiting for the Ferry in the Rain

My Son

Making Brooms

Categories: Food/Restaurants, Language, Photos, Religion, Travel | Tags: Biere LaRue, brooms, Champa, Easyrider Hoi An, ethnic minority people, ferry, Ho Chi Minh Trail, Hoi An, mi quang, motorcycle, My Son, photos, pictures, pineapple, rain, Vietnam | Leave a comment

Where Were We?

Posted on 4 November, 2013 by Tina

If my memory serves me correctly, we were somewhere on that first Monday in Hoi An and my initial stops at the tailors and shoe makers. Ahhh, yes…

The Aussies stopped back by Kimmie Tailors, at which point my orders were put in and ready to get started. The Aussies and I decided to meander about the town while having some catch-up conversation. They had left Hanoi via train headed to Da Nang on Saturday night around 11:00 p.m. or so. Somehow their train was delayed and was slower than anticipated, so they didn’t arrive in Da Nang until around 3:00 p.m. on Sunday afternoon! They then had to take a taxi to Hoi An. They’d soothed over their train issues with a bottle of red wine (or perhaps two) during the exceptionally long ride! That made me thankful for my decision to fly to Da Nang rather than bother with trains and/or buses.

Our walk took us to the main market area. There were food stalls, food vendors (the ones carrying those double basket thingies), more tailors, flower vendors and those selling souvenirs and trinkets. However, if you so much as glanced at an item, you would be hounded. They’d keep saying that it was free to look, but they would give you some ridiculous price, refuse to go down much, then follow you around if you walked away. Do you know how annoying it is to be followed down the street, into other shops, and even up and down stairs by someone carrying a calculator, tugging on your sleeve and saying over and over “Madame! Madame!”?! It makes you not want to look at anything at all! We crossed over the bridge to the other side of the river to escape the madness. The other side of the river was decidedly quieter and more relaxed. We found a little restaurant way at the end that advertised “Fish and Chips,” though we split an order of nem (deep fried imperial rolls) and drank some beer. We wandered around some more, then I decided to break off on my own ’cause I was itching to get another massage. We agreed to meet in front of Faifoo later that night, then figure out our dinner options.

I ended up at Palmarosa for a massage and a heel treatment. The one hour massage was very good and performed by a woman. I DID keep my underwear on and she did NOT push the towel above my waist at any point. However, she did this weird thing where she took a smaller, thinner towel and placed it over my eyes, pulling it extremely tight at both sides a few times. I felt as if my eyeballs were being smothered! Otherwise, the rest of the massage seemed fairly standard. Let me point out that most massage places in Bali and, apparently, in Vietnam pop your fingers and toes while they massage you. I’m not particularly fond of that practice, but when in Rome… The heel treatment was half of an hour of my feet being washed, filed, massaged and lotioned up. I enjoyed it immensely.

After meeting with the Aussies in front of Faifoo and wandering around some more, we ended up at Banana Leaf for dinner. I had the White Rose Dumplings again. L. had them, too, when I told her that they were one of Hoi An’s specialties; she liked them. Can’t remember what J. had, but we drank beer, as usual. Our table was right at the front of the restaurant, open to the street, with a view of the river. That would have been perfect, except for all of the people who approach your table every few minutes in an attempt to try to sell you something. All of their little trinkets are overpriced and could be bought for cheaper at the market or even in a regular store. The bad thing about sitting at the tables in the front is that you can’t escape those vendors! After awhile, you simply say “We’re not interested in anything” when they approach, then continue eating and talking amongst yourselves, ignoring them as much as possible. They eventually go away, but it kind of puts a damper on dinner. The Aussies were quite amusing, though. L. was actually the mother of J. She lives in Australia and he lives in Qattar. They meet up for two weeks every year and have a nice little vacation together. Since it was L.’s turn to choose a place this year, she was the one who’d chosen Vietnam, as she’d never been there before. J. might have been there once, long ago. We agreed to meet up in front of Faifoo again the following night. We wouldn’t be having lunch together on Tuesday because I would be in the midst of my all-day motorcycle tour, just my Vietnamese guide and Yours Truly.

Which brings us to… well, not really. You thought I’d forgotten, right? I didn’t forget last Monday, either; it’s just that I was too damned tired from the day in Mai Chau to post anything at all. So it’s Musical Monday, y’all!!! You’re gonna’ get TWO, you heard me, TWO music videos today! The first one is because I was blasting it on my iPad mini that first morning in Hoi An. I’d gotten out of the shower, had the windows open to hear the street sounds going on below and was singing along to Ms. B. The second one is something that I’d seen on a music channel in Vietnam that intrigued me (the song, that is). Here you go. Listen away. There’s photos, too (after the videos).

“Party” – Beyonce

“Kangaroo Court” – Capital Cities