More Bombs
Yesterday, I went to My Son on an organised tour. My Son is a wrecked ruin. Where once stood over 60 temples, there are now roughly 18 left after an American bombing raid. The French had shipped a considerable part to the Louvre a few years earlier.
What is left, is still worth seeing, as it provides insight in what the world was like here almost a thousand years ago and it's the ultimate appetizer for Ankor Watt. It's impossible to get there on your own without a car or motorcycle, and as public transportation is bound to rip you off as badly, you're better off with a hotel-organised tour. These tours are informative, but also extremely polished: zou get there, go in single file, listen to the guide, walk around a bit and get back on the bus before you know it. All this boils down to saying that Vietnam is a difficult country to backpack through, as luxury tourism pushed the prices upward, and the Vietnamese have little love for 'rich bums with a backpack'. Road infrastructure isn't everything, and the traffic is for nutcases only. Some foreigners do brave the traffic, but these people are either crazy or experienced on a motorbike. Teaming up with other backpackers helps, but it doesn't solve all your problems. Some regions seem to have a more positive attitude to foreigners, but usually there is money involved. Verbal aggression is also more rampant the past few days, and declining a tour offer is considered an insult. Some Vietnamese are becoming increasingly desperate when tourists are involved and yes well, it just makes you want to hit them square in the jaw. Having said that, there are nice people here as well, but you sometimes you tend to forget that.
Speaking of Ankor Watt, I'm shifting into higher gear and will be leaving Vietnam in 2 days, trading it for Cambodia, where it's hopefully cheaper and backpack-friendlier.
The Journey To Dalat
Today was the last straw. We booked a busride to Dalat from Hoi An yesterday. The sleeper bus left on time, but was a hunk of junk - rusty beds, no toilet, overbooked so people had to sleep on the floor, no seat belts - with a driver so friendly you'd consider hitting him in the face as a genuine favor. He drove like a nut, honked his horn ever 5 seconds, did it for 12 hours straight and kicked us out of the bus, along with a couple from New Zealand, in Nha Trang, roughly 6 hours away from the destination we paid him for. The four of us were sent to the local bus company, who sent us to their main office. They offered us a cab, which we had to pay.
We walked.
There they put us in a minivan for six hours to Dalat, where we are now and we'll be leaving for Saigon tomorrow, taking the early bus to Phnom Penh the day after that. This way, I don't have to cross the border on my own and we turn our backs to this country, at least for a little while.
Antonella
Upgraded from 'Random Person I've Met On A Bus' to 'Traveling Buddy', she taught me to re-attach the button to my pants - a wardrobe malfunction dating from the second day in Hanoi -, claims to have saved my life today and has been funny company the past few days. She's the kind of girl that sais, 'Ok, let's cross this street ', only to stop walking and see if I don't get killed first. She's Italian with German roots, so she takes care of all the complaining and is always right, even when she's wrong. Right now we still get along and both enjoy the benefits of not having to face the vultures on the streets alone. We'll see how long it'll last, as we both have somewhat challenging personalities.
Same same, but different
This is a saying they use here in Vietnam quite often, it isn't hard to figure out what it means.
There are nice waterfalls some 50 km from here, bringing up the whole tour issue again. Now, I've seen some pretty waterfalls already during my time on this planet, and they didn't have emo-Vietnamese pop music shredding your ears apart, nor did they have vendors trying to sell you anything from a bird to a drink, while tossing every piece of plastic into the water below. Same same, but different.
Thanks, but no thanks.
Yesterday, I went to My Son on an organised tour. My Son is a wrecked ruin. Where once stood over 60 temples, there are now roughly 18 left after an American bombing raid. The French had shipped a considerable part to the Louvre a few years earlier.
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| Inscriptions that remain untranslated |
What is left, is still worth seeing, as it provides insight in what the world was like here almost a thousand years ago and it's the ultimate appetizer for Ankor Watt. It's impossible to get there on your own without a car or motorcycle, and as public transportation is bound to rip you off as badly, you're better off with a hotel-organised tour. These tours are informative, but also extremely polished: zou get there, go in single file, listen to the guide, walk around a bit and get back on the bus before you know it. All this boils down to saying that Vietnam is a difficult country to backpack through, as luxury tourism pushed the prices upward, and the Vietnamese have little love for 'rich bums with a backpack'. Road infrastructure isn't everything, and the traffic is for nutcases only. Some foreigners do brave the traffic, but these people are either crazy or experienced on a motorbike. Teaming up with other backpackers helps, but it doesn't solve all your problems. Some regions seem to have a more positive attitude to foreigners, but usually there is money involved. Verbal aggression is also more rampant the past few days, and declining a tour offer is considered an insult. Some Vietnamese are becoming increasingly desperate when tourists are involved and yes well, it just makes you want to hit them square in the jaw. Having said that, there are nice people here as well, but you sometimes you tend to forget that.
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| These were temples at some point |
The Journey To Dalat
We walked.
There they put us in a minivan for six hours to Dalat, where we are now and we'll be leaving for Saigon tomorrow, taking the early bus to Phnom Penh the day after that. This way, I don't have to cross the border on my own and we turn our backs to this country, at least for a little while.
Antonella
Upgraded from 'Random Person I've Met On A Bus' to 'Traveling Buddy', she taught me to re-attach the button to my pants - a wardrobe malfunction dating from the second day in Hanoi -, claims to have saved my life today and has been funny company the past few days. She's the kind of girl that sais, 'Ok, let's cross this street ', only to stop walking and see if I don't get killed first. She's Italian with German roots, so she takes care of all the complaining and is always right, even when she's wrong. Right now we still get along and both enjoy the benefits of not having to face the vultures on the streets alone. We'll see how long it'll last, as we both have somewhat challenging personalities.
Same same, but different
This is a saying they use here in Vietnam quite often, it isn't hard to figure out what it means.
There are nice waterfalls some 50 km from here, bringing up the whole tour issue again. Now, I've seen some pretty waterfalls already during my time on this planet, and they didn't have emo-Vietnamese pop music shredding your ears apart, nor did they have vendors trying to sell you anything from a bird to a drink, while tossing every piece of plastic into the water below. Same same, but different.
Thanks, but no thanks.
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