In the grand scheme of things, eighteen days is not a long time, however a lot can be done if you use that time wisely. I used to squander my eighteen day annual leave period when I was in the fire service by spending most of my time drunk or hungover. Eighteen days in Vietnam has seemed like a lot longer. And as I prepare to leave this weird and wonderful country and head for Laos I thought I’d reflect on some of the things I’ve learned and experienced over the course of my time here:
Vietnam is hot. But not just baking hot, it’s humid too. And incredibly so. I’ve never experienced sweating quite like it and I’ve never wanted to continuously take a shower as much in my life. Not even on the return from Glastonbury, where not a drop of water had graced my hair, face or body for four days had I felt the need to be as clean and fresh as I longed to be in Vietnam. Once I accepted my sweaty state though, and once I was at ease with being a disgusting smelly mess, the humidity became a fact of everyday life.
The Vietnamese cuisine is interesting but – in my opinion – quite bland. I was expecting many more flavoursome dishes with lots more colourful food variations, and a smorgasbord of herbs and spices. But it wasn’t to be so. With noodles and rice dominating almost every dish, and only a peanut satay style meal in Hue to tantalise my taste buds, I was left pretty disappointed.
The Pho was good and the Bun Cha was tasty but it wasn’t anything to write home about. And I’d had better rice paper rolls in Melbourne. But hey, you win some you lose some.
The people, in general, are friendly. They will often go out of their way to make you feel comfortable and they can never be seen to lose face. While staying in a homestay in Hue, I’d made the mistake of paying for my laundry but not waiting for the receipt, and upon paying for my room the day before I was due to leave they tried to charge me for it again. I explained I’d already settled my laundry bill but reception were having none of it. I began to get a little frustrated (although looking back, I don’t know why I argued over 33,000 Dong, when it’s only worth around AUD 2). Anyway, the receptionist called the owner to check what had happened; I pleaded with her not to make a fuss and said I would just pay it again to save further complication but she insisted on making the call. I left her to it, embarrassed and feeling guilty that I’d made them think they’d made a mistake. Later that evening, I heard a knock at my door…it was only the bloody owner who’d driven all the way back to the property on her night off to hand me a refund of 30,000 VND! I was astounded. And she was profusely apologetic. At one point I even thought she was going to cry.
It’s that type of ‘extra mile’ behaviour that made me conclude that the people, despite being kind and helpful and generous, are just a little bit mental. But in a good way. Never would that happen in an Australian hostel, and even if it did, the refund would be waiting at the desk for when you left, not brought to your door at 11:30pm!
Anyway, half of me wanted to believe the sentiments of the Vietnamese were pure and genuine, but the other more sceptical half of me wondered if they only went out of their way just so you’d give them a good review on Trip Advisor.
The currency is ridiculous. When you first arrive in Vietnam you will think yourself a multi-millionaire. With wads of Dong in my back pocket I strutted around the place with an air of superiority; like one would after cashing-in big at the casino. That is until I realised the currency is actually worth bugger all, the rate of inflation causing the zeros to multiply like an out of control slot machine. And it’s confusing too. Having so many notes of different values really takes time to get used to. And when cross-country transport can cost anything from 300,000 to 700,000 Dong; and meals ranging from 20,000 to 120,000; and decent wine costing even more (think 120,000 for a mediocre red), sometimes it’s hard to know where you’re at and before long your budget has completely gone out the window. And that’s even before you try to get your head around the fact they use USD too – not easy when you’re working in AUD! ANYWAY, what I’m trying to say is that it’s different. But once you can work out the exchange rate you find that most things in Vietnam are very, very cheap indeed.
The wine – so maybe the less I say about the wine, the better. Thinking myself to be some sort of amateur wine aficionado (I’m not), I tend to really enjoy savouring a smooth glass of Pinot Noir or a heavier Shiraz, or preferably an NZ Marlborough Sauv Blanc. In Vietnam though, I was hard pressed to find anything within my budget that didn’t taste like sangria or vinegar; and the rice wine is pretty grim too. The better wines that were on offer in some restaurants obviously cost a lot to import so in turn that means you pay through the nose for it. And even then the quality was questionable. So the fact that beer costs the same as, or less than water made my snobby wine-drinker attitude go into hibernation for a while in favour of sampling the local brews. Hanoi beer, Saigon beer and a dodgy looking beer named 333 are all variations I would recommend trying.
The vastness of Vietnam is deceiving. It’s a long, thin country that on a map looks like it could be easily covered in a couple of weeks. And it can. But only if you’re content to hop from place to place at a rapid speed, sacrificing some of the most scenic, untouched places in favour of the more renowned tourist hotspots. Vietnam is a melting pot of culture and beauty and has many, many more strings to its bow than just Ho Chi Minh, Hanoi and Ha Long Bay. There’s Cat Ba and Ninh Binh, Mai Chai and Da Lat, and so many other places I wish I had visited. I’m sad that I didn’t have more time and money to spend in Vietnam; a month would maybe have been beneficial enough for me to immerse myself in the true values of the country; alas, time was of the essence and I did all I could in the days I had there.
As I prepare to leave for Laos, I look back on my time in Vietnam with great fondness – it has been an opportunity to learn and to grow; and an opportunity to discover things about a proud and previously troubled nation that I never would’ve gotten from solely reading history books. I hope that in years to come, I can still conjure the same happy memories.
Chasing Amy-Lou 