Taken for a Ride (Vietnam Travel Diary #2)

I’ve taken some brief walks around the neighbourhood. It’s a very local vibe. I’m certainly the only bearded stand-out. I’m even living with the locals in the same apartment block. Love it, but very little English is spoken. I’m taking some YouTube classes, but I’m finding Vietnamese very difficult to learn!

I spent one evening at The Foxhole (clearly a war reference), which is a small bar near the lake. All the outside seating seems to be on little plastic, schoolboy chairs, set at tiny tables. And this climate is incredible. I begin sweating the minute I step outside! Having to be on constant alert in case you lose an elbow to a passing bike, is also quite draining. My What The Pho YouTube friend has also warned her followers about bag and phone snatchers, and advises that it’s not a good idea to have your phone out in public, so I’m wary of that and haven’t taken many photos in busy areas.

After a long day of working overtime, it was my moment to have a proper Vietnam experience. I was scheduled to have a date with a local that evening in the central hub of the Old Quarter. (I really just want to make some sort of connection and have good conversation with someone). I decided that one experience that had to be had, was taking a bike taxi. But OMG! That was one adrenaline rush!

“Grab” is the Asian equivalent of Uber. They wear green helmets and vests with the Grab logo. One would hope that they have to pass some sort of advanced driving course, but who knows.

Wearing a piss-pot helmet, the little man who spoke no English, whizzed past cars and oncoming bikers! The No Entry signs seem to mean squat, because we went down a few of those. My anus tightened a few times during the 18-minute journey. I also noticed that his bike had no side mirrors! I made it in one piece, but have to add that we passed many bikers with a few people onboard, including women riding side-saddle and little kids without helmets… It’s just the way of life here.

My date never rocked up. She said she was in a traffic jam at the time and then went off grid. I enjoyed a couple of Saigon beers while waiting and just took in the new and vibey atmosphere. After an hour of waiting and gazing, I sent a final message to say that I was going to walk around the area, and that was a much better use of my time.

The streets were PUMPING for a Tuesday night. I walked very slow and regally, with my arms behind my back while also constantly checking that my phone and wallet were still living inside my pockets. I got stopped every second or third step of the way, with locals trying to get me to experience their establishment or offerings. A few whispered, “you want weed?” into my earhole, and a few others showed me pictures of scantly-clad women and pointed in the direction of their operation. I smiled and gestured “no thank you”, and forged on.

I tried pho for the first time the night before – another OMG to that! Amazing. There is a culinary list to work through. I saw a sign for Bun Cha – a traditional Vietnamese dish that’s a specialty of Hanoi. A German family of three were chowing down nearby and started telling me that this particular restaurant served the best Bahn Mi that they have ever had during their 3 weeks in Vietnam. So I bought two of them in a takeaway bag. They were awesome!

I needed a hideaway spot just to take everything in and found a rooftop bar. It became very evident that prices are set at tourist standards. It was 50,000 Dong for a little dumpie of Saigon beer. I could also see a massage parlour in the street below, with prices listed in both VND and USD and far pricier than Thai massages. And what exactly is unique about a Vietnamese massage and why isn’t that on the international menu?

After a few Saigon Specials down, I decided to have another go at backseat biking to my digs. The driver (who spoke no English) took me to a massage parlour and gestured that I should go inside to have a look. There were six makeup-clad girls that jumped up from their seats when I poked my hairy face inside. Standing firm while arms were trying to pull me upstairs, I pulled out my translator app to ask what was going on. It was as obvious as I suspected: VMD 1.3,000,000 for a sensual massage with a happy ending. I really just wanted to eat my Vietnamese baguette and asked the driver to please take me home as agreed.

He then took me all over the show and kept recording videos of me riding on the back while riding one-handed! I eventually pulled out my own phone to show him the way, but the journey took twice as long as it should have. I was determined to stick to the negotiated transport rate. He then translated that he had used extra petrol and wanted to go home to see his kids, and showed me a photo of his newborn. I gave him a modest tip.

Yoh, what a night…

Next: Vietnam #3 – Hungry Ghosts

Previously: Vietnam #1 – Xin Chào!