GOOOOOOOD MORNING VIETNAAAAAAAAAM!!

Day 30, April 20th

Great, another sleepless night.  All my fault.  This sunburn is still completely insufferable.  Sleeping hurts.  Showering hurts.  At times, breathing hurts.

I need another day of doing nothing and sitting as motionless as possible.  Today is no such day.  We have a looong day of traveling.

I’m stoked though.  I have been looking forward to this part of the trip more than any other.  Since I first visited in 2002, Vietnam has been my favorite country to travel in.  I loved everything about it.  The people.  The food.  The serenity of the countryside.  The energy of the cities.  The colors.  The smells.  Everything.  Beautiful.

Today we leave Cambodia and cross over into Vietnam.

From inside the minibus.
It is going to be a long day and we have an early departure.  All three of us are up early and meet down at a cafĂ© across from our hotel for breakfast.  The usual.  While our eggs do a grease slide down our throats we see some busses pull up.  One of them might be ours and I haven’t even started packing.  I know, surprise.  The kids are packed and ready, but Patton doesn’t want anything to prevent us from getting out of this town.  We quickly pay up and head back to the hotel.

As we cross through the lobby, we see a German couple that is checking out.  Their luggage is open on the floor of the lobby and the staff are double-checking to see if they are hijacking any hotel goods.  I have never seen any hotel act so militant as this.

I hope they don’t frisk the kids cause I know they are boosting the mini toiletries from every hotel we have been in on this trip.  Her idea, not his.  She keeps saying the grandkids will love this when we get home.  And every time she tries to cram in another mini-toothbrush and shower cap I bust out laughing.  He is quick to defend in saying that saving money by doing things like this when I was young is what got me through college.  I quickly shut my mouth.

But, with the hotel staff as vigilant as they are, the kids have a better chance of strapping bars of hash to their chest and making it out of a Turkish airport.  If they knew the story of Billy Hayes, they would have been flushing shampoo down the toilet by now.

A regular day's work.

I’m gonna let them handle this one on their own.

I get to my room and do a quick cram/pack job.  I look out the window and the kids are already down there waiting on the bus.  Mom is chilling with the bags.  Patton is trying to figure out which bus is ours and be chill at the same time.  He mainly doesn’t like it when we have a time to make and all three of us are not together. 

These busses are never on time and they never leave anyone behind.  He’ll be fine when I get down there.

I finally get all of my stuff in my backpack, do one last room check, count all four towels again and I head out the door. 

It is like a DEA drug bust waiting to go down.  The moment I step out of my room four people appear and converge on my room from four different directions.  One of them is on her walkie-talkie informing everyone that the “suspect” has left the room and to move in.  By the time I get to the lobby, security and the head of housekeeping are waiting for me along with several front desk employees.  I am kindly asked to wait while a “routine check” of my room takes place.  All of them stand there, walkie-talkies at the ready with arms folded or hands on their hips like the Khmer Untouchables.  Silence.  Waiting.  Ready to spring into action should the call come down that a washcloth is M.I.A.  We wait.  They look uncomfortable.  The phone rings.  All linens and bath towels are accounted for.  A collective sigh of relief comes from the Not-So-Toughies and they all relax.  I am released to go.

Amazingly, after the horrible experience here, they still have the oysters to thank me for my patronage, ask me to come back again soon and ask me to recommend them to my friends.  I told them I would.

She should use her hand to protect his face!
In keeping with my promise I would like to take a quick moment and say if you are planning to go to Sihanoukville, Cambodia, which I highly encourage, I recommend you DO NOT go to the Serendipity Beach Resort.  Go ANYWHERE ELSE!!  You will have a much better time at any other place as long as they continue to operate under the “Assume everyone is nailing a Khmer hooker and soiling our towels/linens and must pay for it” policy.

Now sprung from the Serendipity prison I find the kids on the sidewalk and Patton still trying to figure out which bus is ours.

In getting our tickets to Saigon, we specifically didn’t want to backtrack and go through Phnom Penh.  We found a more direct southern route through Chau Doc.  Apparently it is not a heavily traveled route during the low season.  It took us a while to find an agency that carried the route and even then we weren’t sure we would get the route we wanted.  All we knew when we purchased the tickets is that at the end of today we would be in Saigon.

Right now there are two busses and it is hard to tell which one is going through Chau Doc and which one is going to Phnom Penh.  I finally get enough head nods from one of the drivers to convince me his bus is the one we want.

We cram our bags in the back, pile in and it is packed.  A few more people pile in and we are at capacity.  More people.  Above capacity.  Typical Cambodia.

Finally the bus groans to life and we struggle up the rocky dirt road.

We make a couple of other stops, pick up a few more people and then arrive at the main bus station.  More confusion.  We are told to wait 15 minutes and then we will get on another bus that isn’t here yet.

A very peaceful home.
I post the kids up with the luggage and do some searching.  I want to double check about the bus we are supposed to get on.  Not too long into my search our original bus rolls back up with more people to drop off.  It is also the same bus that is taking us to Chau Doc.

Again, we cram our bags in the back and pile in.  Thankfully not as many people this time.  The bus then drives back to the same street our hotel was on and picks up another couple.  Then we go back to the bus station because the driver forgot his sack lunch.  So much for not backtracking.

Finally, we leave Sihanoukville.

Not too long into the drive it starts raining.  That mixed with some tunes and I start drifting in and out as we bounce down the road to Vietnam

We make a few stops and drop off some travelers in cities along the way, eventually coming to the border.  We certainly didn’t get the route we wanted.  Instead of Chau Doc, we are at the Phnom Dem/Tinh Bien crossing.  Better than going through Phnom Penh and we’ll definitely be in Saigon tonight.  No big deal.

The cross out of Cambodia is a bit confusing since we aren’t exactly sure if we are where we are suppose to be.  We already have Vietnamese visas and just need the stamps.  Our guide handles the transition and we eventually end up in Tinh Bien on the Vietnamese side.  Very different.

Vietnam is more developed in every aspect of society and it is immediately evident.  The transportation is equally different.  Much nicer.  Much more comfortable.  Much safer.

Amazing balancing act.
In Tinh Bien we wait for a connecting bus, eat a little lunch, and get caught in a typical downpour.  We eventually load up in the connecting bus and drive for about an hour to the next connecting city.  A small break, a strong cup of bus stop coffee and we switch busses for the final leg.  Several more hours and one dinner break later we arrive in Saigon.  But not downtown in the city.

We are dropped off at a bus station out on the edge of town.  As soon as we step off of the bus, we are pounced on by taxi and tuk-tuk drivers.  All promise a cheap ride to anywhere in the city.  Thankfully we have tickets for a free ride in a minivan from the bus station to downtown, arranged through our travel company.

We pile in, a short ride downtown and we are let out on some random street with no clue of where we are.  Of course, there are taxis and tuk-tuks waiting.  We grab a taxi and head down to the backpacker haven, the same area I stayed in back in 2002.  I have the name of the place we want to go to, but we can’t find it.  We pass by where it should be several times and no dice.  Turns out it is a common practice for places to rename themselves to either distance themselves from bad reviews or to coattail on the success of a popular hotel’s name. 

We ditch looking for the original place and find another one.  The immaculate lobby belies the reality of the rooms.  It’s a tight triple room with three single beds.  We are too exhausted to keep looking.

Mom, a true soldier of sleep, is showered, in bed, mask properly affixed and asleep before dad and I can set our backpacks down.

I finally hop in the shower and wash away the day’s grime from traveling.  As I come out of the shower I hear what sounds like water pouring out onto the ground.  I look up and see a stream pouring form the A/C.  Patton hadn’t heard it.  We quickly turn off the A/C and I head down to the front desk to let ‘em know what’s up.

This cow doesn't want to follow.
Patton is a bit pissed at this point.  I can see the red rising in his face.  He thinks if you pay for something it should work, or concessions should be made.  And he is right.  But some times, most times when traveling, it is easier just to roll with it. 

One of the hotel staffers, a young kid, shows up with a straw.  I don’t know much about A/Cs, but that stream of water that now soaks the carpet is going to need more than a drinking straw to be fixed.  Patton seems irritated that this isn’t going to be a repair, but just a temporary band-aid fix.  The kid does an impressive balancing act by standing on a trashcan that he places on the desk.  He sticks the straw in some opening and blows and moves some water around with his hand.  A quick wipe of everything, replaces the trashcan, a polite bow and he disappears.

That’s it?

Oddly, Patton is calm now.  And as I figured, I know nothing about A/Cs.  He said what the kid did will at least fix the A/C for the few days we are here. 

A bit past 1AM and we both crawl in our small single beds and lay there listening to the high octane energy of the city street right outside of our window.  He admits that this is the most comfortable bed he has slept in on the entire trip.  Mom hasn’t moved a muscle since her head hit the pillow the first time.  Quite impressive.

No more towel/linen inspectionly yours,

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