

Really cool.







In HCMC we stayed at a famous hotel called The Majestic -- it's on a big corner facing the Saigon River. Here's the front of the hotel:





Why is the surf in Nha Trang too high for swimming? Blow-blow-blow-chi-minh
What do venture capitalists have to do in
What did the Americans have to eat when we lost the war in
What don’t you need a lot of on a
What do you do in the Mekong River Delta? Row-row-row-chi-minh while you go-go-go-chi-minh with the flow-flow-flow-chi-minh
The sidewalk trees that are fine for the locals but cause us to stoop are Low-low-low-chi-minh
What do local landscapers do to maintain the Ana Mandara lawn? Mow-mow-mow-chi-minh
What happens when you photograph a governmental office here? It’s a no-no-no-chi-minh
What do Vietnamese people eat for breakfast? Pho-pho-pho-chi-minh
How do the NVA uniforms still look? So-so-so-chi-minh
What do you avoid in the
What form of precipitation does not exist here? Snow-snow-snow-chi-minh
The unstable weather keeps you on a yo-yo-yo-chi-minh when you’re planning your swimming schedule
Want to play our little party game? See how clever you can be: post your own. We'll give a prize of 500,000 dong to the best question and answer.
Nota bene: We withheld many of our associations because of not wanting to make light of the horror of our war here






Hoi An
We stopped in a little shop to buy some scarves for friends, and as we were paying, Lori felt something on her leg and swiped at it. It was a gray scorpion, which stung her little finger. When we got back to the hotel, we stopped at the front desk to ask if we should be concerned, and they reassured us that there are no scorpions in Hoi An. If you are one of the people who gets a scarf from us, you might want to check it carefully.
Tailor maids
The women at our tailor shop in Hoi An were flirtatious in the Vietnamese way, which involves much punching of the arm and making fun. There’s nothing puritanical about them. When we went for our first fitting, Marc was helping me and the woman who was helping me kept punching him in the arm and calling him a naughty boy. When another woman came into the fitting room, she looked at Marc and said “oh, good” and then took off her shirt. At that point, the fitter grabbed Marc and put him in a chair by the door. All the while, the tailors were talking among themselves and laughing – we were never sure if they were laughing at us. We think they were.
We literally got thousands of dollars of clothes for hundreds of dollars. All custom fit.
Could this be it?
Miss Ly’s Cafeteria II. For starters, we couldn’t find it. When we did find it, the restaurant was like their outdoor garage. And the place was empty, even though the recommendations we had heard about it said it was always packed. We ate there anyway, because by that point we were so hungry – it was the best food we’ve had so far. We ate there twice. Hoi An specialties, all so good.
Hawkers: Don’t know what to say about them, but they’re everywhere, from sweet kids to persistent old men and smiling old women. All in your face.
Massages – we got massages, they were nothing extraordinary. Marc had an 80-minute massage, unbelievable enough, but Lori's was 3.5 hours. We were both less than impressed by the massage (no shiatsu), although they did walk all over us. After her 80-minute massage, Lori got a foot massage and a facial.
On the way to Hue
The cost of the bus ride to Hue ranged from $114 at the hotel, to $4 at a little travel spot in Hoi An. We took the $4 ticket and learned a lot more on that bus than we would’ve on the fancy private hotel bus. As appears to be the norm, we stopped for a “rest break” along the way, where we saw fresh won tons being made. What’s not visible in this picture are the chickens that had just finished helping themselves to the wontons. What is visible, if you know what you’re looking at, is the raw sewage on the ground from the open toilet bathroom just to the right. We’ve been wary of wonton ever since.
We walked past the rest area to the lake behind, where we saw beautiful mountains and fishing boats.

Oncoming traffic
Being a passenger in
This is the gate to the Citadel in Hue, which was the royal palace. It was very beautiful, and not too crowded with tourists.
Another view of one of the gates -- this was a gate into the pleasure palace. Only eunuchs allowed since they posed no threat to the royal concubines.
A mosaic of Uncle Ho, the always-present, over the door of the Art University at the Citadel.
When we were in
Marc still won’t talk about one of the things he ate (Lori didn’t have the nerve to put it in her mouth) – Marc said he’d talk about it in a few weeks when it’s left his system. And then he says something about the food in The Good Earth. We still shudder when we think about it.
We decided to take a taxi from
Dong to Dollars
Paying for things here, when we use dong, is really confusing. 15,000 dong = $1. We can’t seem to keep the decimals and commas straight. Since we have to count dong in the millions (literally), what’s a decimal and what’s a comma becomes totally unclear to us. Hence we wind up paying the merchants by opening our wallets and letting them decide what we owe. Honest to God. We THINK they are honest since they grab money and give us back change; it may be less a question of trust than it is a function of prices being virtually insignificant in US dollars. Even if they took twice the number of dong they should, we’re still talking about pennies, practically.
Finally, this was the Victoria Hoi An elephant:
This morning the sun was out and the sky was blue with little white clouds, the temperature was great and we had a wonderful breakfast out on the terrace of the restaurant. This picture is my first course, and the fruit was really sweet and wonderful.


The China Sea (Gulf of Tonkin, actually) is behind us, and we're full of potato salad and bland food and all the Perry Como music you could ever wish for. We're in Halong Bay on our cruise, which turned out to be full of cruise ship type folks: old soldiers from Australia, women with elastic waistbanded pants pulled up over their big tummies, and old men with shorts and black knee socks. We were cornered by one Australian ex-soldier at the stern -- his primary topic of conversation was his drinking adventures in southeast asia. Beer is $12 in Korea, only $2 in Vietnam, much better. More than that in Australia. This was his first trip back to Vietnam since he was here fighting the war, so I asked him how it felt to be back. He just said, "We'll see when I get to Saigon." So the food was awful, but the scenery was incredible. The skies were cloudy for the most part, but the bay was full of really kewl looking junks and maybe sampans, but we don't know how to spell that for sure.
We wandered around the Old Quarter of Hanoi today, relying on a walk laid out by our friends at Lonely Planet. It was actually pretty cool, and we didn't get lost (much). This is a market, in the open air (which is much nicer than the one we saw last night with the fried dogs). Something about the open air makes the combination of rotting meat, fish sauce, and exhaust a little more bearable.
We stopped for lunch because (a) we were hungry, and (b) we were both seriously overstimulated from the noise and smells and the really frequent need to ignore people who were wanting to sell us something, or take us for cyclo rides. So we ducked into this little restaurant called La Brique, full of tourists (mostly from France, from the sounds of the conversation around us). I got fish in banana leaf, and Marc got fish on charcoal. Mine was 2 pieces of white fish in a tomato sauce wrapped in a banana leaf, with a bowl of rice. The waitress cooked Marc's at the table.
Long trip, strange trip. Twilight zone, since they asked us to keep the window shades pulled the entire 18 hours. We thought they would try to manipulate us with short day/night cycles or something, but instead it was all night all the time. Marc is a rebel, so he snuck open the window in time for this great sunrise shot.
I actually took these shots all along the way, tracking our journey. Some pics show our altitude and estimated time of arrival, but these are the ones I like. Marc thinks they could be any picture off the Internet, which of course they could. A little before I took this picture, Marc snuck another peak out the window and we saw this incredibly long sinuous stream of lights, orange lights, like a road but it couldn't be a road. We wondered if it was the great wall of china (we didn't know where we were at that point), but we turned on the "where are we" map and saw that we were facing the border between India and Nepal or Tibet, not sure. Do they illuminate that border? It was really amazing to see.
When we stopped in Singapore, it was 5am and we had a 5-hour layover. We had heard about the pool and thought we'd take a swim, if we felt up to it. It was the greatest idea -- the pool opened at 7, and we were there waiting. We swam for about an hour, very refreshing (even though the landing strip and airplanes were just on the other side of this wall, and easily visible). Then we had hot showers and felt nearly new. I had snoozed in and out, off and on, but Marc hadn't slept more than 15 minutes, and not all at one time. Then it was time to board the flight to Hanoi.....
My first impression of Hanoi, once we left the airport: HORNS. Our cab driver honked almost nonstop the entire 20 minute (or so) drive to our hotel. Beep beep beep beep beep. Beeeeeeeep. Beep beep. And so on. There were cars and trucks and people everywhere on mopeds and motorcycles. Women in the conical straw hats carrying two baskets on a pole over their shoulders. Some kind of oxen in the fields. Young girls laughing on the back of mopeds holding onto young men who were talking on cell phones. Horns honking everywhere. Billboards EVERYwhere. We passed this structure, never quite sure what it was. I wish we hadn't been moving so the picture wasn't so blurred -- the horse sculptures were really quite amazing.
We're staying in the Hanoi Melia, a really nice hotel. After getting settled, we hit the streets. We had been wondering why most people had scarves tied around their faces when they were driving around: bird flu? Something else? It finally hit us -- exhaust. No emissions controls worries here. The air reeks of exhaust and gas, plus lots of other indefinable smells. I tried to get a picture of a busy intersection (this is not one), so Marc wasn't expecting his picture to be taken.