Friday morning, the condo was abuzz with our pending departure to Vietnam. Breakfast was served, the bags were packed, the nephews were hugged and kissed, and I effusively thanked Maryana for her hospitality in the face of the extra 450 pounds of man meat that had invaded their space. On the way down to the taxi I got a little choked up as I hugged Maryana for the last time. I am not one to be at a loss for words, but on our parting I realized how much I missed being able to see her more often. I silently signaled over the top of the taxi that I would return for another visit as soon as my schedule and budget allowed. I had tears running down my cheeks for the first mile to the airport, but it was soon time to cowboy up and put on my game face.
Let the Amazing Race begin! First the taxi dropped us off at the wrong terminal, so we had to queue up for another taxi to the main terminal. Then when we were checking in, the counter agent discovered that Dad’s passport number did not match the number printed on our Vietnam visa application. She consulted with a colleague and then a supervisor. I may add at this point that the way Dad’s passport number is printed there is a 5 that looks strikingly like a 6 unless it is viewed under very bright light. My brother, the hardened traveler, immediately pulled out his cell phone and called the Vietnam visa service for assistance – the number of which he has saved on his iPhone. They could provide no assistance without the visa confirmation number which was not printed on the actual visa letter, but was on the email that was sent to me a month previously. We received our boarding passes with the warning that if we could not get this issue resolved, dad would be denied entry into Vietnam.
Once through security, Jeff pulled out his laptop, I logged into my Gmail account to locate the confirmation number, and Jeff called Vietnam visas.com and we got to work updating the documentation. For some reason they kept asking for a fax number and Jeff kept explaining that we were at the airport with no access to a fax machine. After the third time the person on the other end relented and agreed to email a pdf copy of the corrected document to my Gmail account. Upon arriving I was to present the original letter and show the corrected electronic version at visa control. I received the updated document on my iPhone in about 3 minutes. Disaster averted - mainly through Jeff’s quick, calm response – he is known as the “fixer” at his job and I can understand why after seeing him in action.
The flight was uneventful. We were served a quick snack on board consisting of a soft drink and pastry. Once again, dad had a “What is it” moment as he held what looked like a large doughnut in his hand. He certainly has a great belief in my powers of food deduction, in that pretty much every meal we have had has been preceded by “what is it?” I am not sure where Jeff and I got our sense of eating adventure – but I will bet big money it is not from dear old dad. Hahaha.
Upon arrival, we had more than the usual hassle at visa control due to the passport number mix up, but after filling out the forms and paying an additional $10 USD to make the necessary changes we were allowed to proceed to immigration. Dad and Jeff were through with no problem – however, my immigration officer was a little thrown since my currently bearded face does not match my clean-shaven passport photo face. He looked at me, at the passport, at me, at the passport, me, at my bearded visa photo, and then asked me something I did not understand. He repeated the question, I still did not understand what he was asking, but I flashed my winning smile and that must have been enough to satisfy him that I was the person represented in my passport.
I gathered my luggage, completed the customs process and headed out the door to meet the car my brother had arranged to pick us up and transport us to our hotel.
Ho Chi Minh City – population 7.5 million plus 5 million motorcycles / scooters. For the first time in my somewhat broad traveling experience, I was a bit overwhelmed by the city. Like other places that are soaked by rain throughout the year, there is an inescapable weathered fecundity that pervades the place. The city teems with cafes, bars, coffee shops, sidewalk cookeries, vendors, hotels, and scooters. There is a vibrancy that is different from other cities I have visited that renders it unfamiliar and a bit daunting. Additionally there are signs everywhere, in a familiar alphabet, but unlike European countries where there are familiar cognates (police, policia, polizie, etc) I kept thinking that I could figure it out, but it was all completely unintelligible to my western cultural experience.
The Hotel Intercontinental however, was simply amazing in its amenities and service. Jeff suggested that we book rooms on the hotel club level as a means to recover from our previous 5 nights of sleeping arrangements – not to mention the free breakfast buffet and happy hour on the 19th floor overlooking the main downtown district.
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| View from the club lounge |
Ahh – creature comforts. After a quick freshening and fluffing, we met in the club lounge for a cocktail and then we were off into the city for a quick walking tour of the District 1 (Saigon) sites where we were assailed by the souvenir vendors from hell. These were the most persistent purveyors of tourist goods I can remember since our visit to Bali. I am pretty adept at saying no and walking on. Dad on the other hand was apparently seen as a big man with a big wallet as the vendors were like a swarm of stinging flies around him – he just needs to lose the polite southerner routine when he is in this situation, but haggling and bargaining with street vendors is not something that is part of his experience. My mother on the other hand derives great pleasure in spending 20 minutes haggling to save 25 cents. I fall somewhere in between – if I think it is affordable I pay and move on.
After a quick walk around the church, the post office, people’s park, and a cruise by the Reunification Palace, we were off for another feeding adventure.
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| The church |
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| The Post Office |
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| Socialist Statues |
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| Reunification Palace |
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