While Ken and I were visiting Tu Duc's tomb and fending off offers of boat rides along the Perfume River, most of the group visited the former Demilitarized Zone (DMZ). We'd gone during the previous trip and decided against a return visit. I did want to talk a bit about one of the stops on the DMZ tour that I found particularly fascinating.

The DMZ is a complete misnomer. After 1954, when the French were defeated by Vietnamese forces, the country was divided into North and South Viet Nam, with a demilitarized zone between the two. During the American War, this area saw some of the heaviest fighting; unexploded mortars and landmines remain an issue today. Vinh Moc is just north of the DMZ. In the late 1960's, the US forces began a campaign of aerial bombardment of the DMZ area, and the inhabitants of Vinh Moc and the other villages were right in the line of fire. Some people fled in the face of nightly bombings, while others began to dig.

Over the course of 18 or so months, the villagers (with the encouragement of North Vietnamese forces) hand dug a complex tunnel network which allowed them to live underground, unseen. The tunnels are about 6 feet tall and three feet wide, with small family rooms opening off to the side. There was a larger meeting area, a well, and a maternity ward (something like 17 babies were born underground). There were air shafts, and the ventilation system was constructed so that cooking smoke was vented away from its origin. That way, if it were noticed and targeted, the attack would not be directed at the actual source. The villagers lived mostly underground for about three years. In spite of constant bombardment from both the air and sea, the tunnels sustained only one direct hit during this time; there was no loss of life, and the bomb crater was converted into another airshaft.

The part of the story that most struck me was the way in which the villagers dealt with the problem of where to put the excavated soil. Large piles of dirt lying around anywhere would definitely attract the attention and suspicions of American observers. Also, the soil is red. Piles of red soil on the sand would be blatantly obvious. So, what they did was dig a hole in the sand, bury the red soil, cover the soil with sand, and dump the excess sand into the ocean!

Today, the tunnels have been somewhat modified to receive tourists, but are very much the same as they always were. Not a comfortable experience for the extremely claustrophobic, but a great example of determination and ingenuity.

After three hours of purgatory, also referred to as a bus ride, we arrived in Hue, the former residence of the emperors of Viet Nam. The imperial capitol was moved from Ha Noi in the very early 1800s by the first emperor of the latest Nguyen ruling dynasty (I say latest because there have been MANY Nguyen rulers throughout history). That emperor, Gia Long, intended to unify the south and north, even selecting a throne name to reflect this intent - Gia from the old name for Sai Gon, and Long from the former name of Ha Noi. 

The main attractions in Hue proper are related to its role as imperial capital from about 1802 to 1945. Like Beijing, Hue has a Forbidden City, surrounded by a citadel. Unlike Beijing, most of the Citadel, places of government, and royal residences were heavily damaged, if not destroyed, during fighting with first the French and then the Americans. Today, major work is being done to restore the Citadel, palaces, and pagodas to their former splendour. The Forbidden Purple City itself has not yet been restored; only some foundations and staircases remain. Occasionally, you can see a fragment of floor tile which would have been exclusively walked on by the royal family and their closest servants. Except for these few tiles, grasses and mimosa now rule the landscape. There are still pockmarks from bullets and shrapnel visible in many of the standing walls, as well as a number of walls partially demolished by both shells and neglect.

Citadel's Flag Tower - the flag pole is 37m tall

Restored Hall of the Mandarins

Topiary elephant - originally, there were real ones

One of the few remaining floor tiles from the Forbidden Purple City

One of the many gates of the Citadel complex

 In spite of or perhaps because of, the combination of destruction and newly restored buildings, the Citadel has an ambiance of its own. Gia Long’s advisers and astronomers chose the location for the palace based on astronomical portents and river access -the area also seems to be able to capture whatever breeze there may be. And the place is quiet - even in the modern city, with traffic and shops right outside the Citadel walls, you can barely hear the motorcycle horns (which really do say “beep beep” here) from near the walls on the inside. In Georgian England, those associated with the royal court referred to their particular circle as ‘The World’. At the Citadel, it’s not hard to imagine how the Vietnamese royal court could be its own, self-contained world and completely unaware of the existence of anything or anyone outside of that world.

Recently restored walkway

Restored Hung To Mieu Temple, dedicated to Gia Long's parents

And you thought unicorns weren't real!

 Ken and I continued the theme of visiting monarchs’ private worlds the next day with a visit to one of the royal tombs. A number of the Nguyen emperors built tombs in the Hue area, and we hadn’t had the chance to see any of them on our last trip. We went to the tomb of Tu Duc, who reigned from 1847 until his death in 1883. His tomb complex was built during the 1860’s -it was quite common for a reigning emperor to design and build his own tomb. During his lifetime, Tu Duc’s used his tomb, which included a small stream and island, as a retreat from the stresses of the court at Hue. Of course, his mandarins, eunuchs, and many, many concubines accompanied him on such occasions. The stream is still there, as are the pavilions, mandarins’ quarters, and the foundations of the concubines’ residences.

Roof detail from a building in the tomb complex

Lake and partially reconstructed pavilion

 The emperor’s mausoleum begins with an honour courtyard, flanked by stone elephants and mandarins. The mandarin statues are quite intricate, but short -Tu Duc was a short man (about 5 feet or so), and it simply wouldn’t do to have tall mandarins serving him in the afterlife. From here, you enter the Stele Pavilion, which contains a massive stone stele detailing Tu Duc’s accomplishments. Through another gate, and you enter the area of the actual stone sarcophagus, where he is not buried. His remains and grave goods were interred in a secret location - apparently, every servant involved in the burial was executed to ensure that the secret endured. Tu Duc had made a number of powerful enemies during his reign (the French and the Catholic Church); this increased the chances of grave-robbing and desecration.

Elephant and horse in the Honour Courtyard

Tu Duc's Stele Pavilion, in the midst of restoration work

More about our time in Hue in the next post - then we're off to Ha Noi!

Da Nang's Dragon Bridge

After a short flight from Nha Trang to Da Nang, further up the coast, we took a (relatively) short drive south again, to Hoi An. Since Ken and I were here 8 years ago, Da Nang and its surrounding area has grown immensely. Da Nang is now the third largest city in the country, with two new bridges, and a staggering number of resorts under development on the East Sea coast both north and south of the city proper.

Hoi An's riverfront

Hoi An itself is much smaller, with a population between 100-150,000. According to one restaurant owner we were talking to, the city received about 2.3 million tourists last year. The old city of Hoi An is a UNESCO world heritage site. Before the late 18th century, Hoi An was a major trading port. Vietnamese ceramics shipped from Hoi An have been found in archaeological sites in other parts of Asia, as well as ports in Europe. Lage numbers of Japanese, Chinese, and Dutch traders settled in the city; many of the Japanese and Chinese community stayed permanently.

Hoi An's full moon celebration - everyone who is anyone is there!

Hoi An’s days as a major trading port ended by the late 18th century, partially due to a change in international relations (rulers’ isolationist policies), and partially for a very practical reason: the river silted up and the city was no longer accessible to sea-going vessels. The building of a modern deep-sea harbour at Da Nang sealed Hoi An’s decrease in status. Like Da Lat, Hoi An wan’t bombed at any point during Viet Nam’s conflicted history, so the old buildings, homes, and assembly halls in the old city have remained intact.

Model of Vietnamese trading vessel

Today, many of the old houses and businesses have been restored, and contain museums, restaurants, and hotels. The architecture in the town centre is a mixture of traditional Vietnamese and Chinese, as well as French colonial. Though busy, the old section is peaceful - for certain hours of the day, no motorised traffic is allowed, and cars are not allowed at all. In spite of this, both Ken and I came the closest to being hit by motor bikes as we ever have! Part of the problem is that since Hoi An is so quiet and peaceful, tourists feel comfortable renting motorbikes. However, they don’t know how to drive properly here, so all the crossing the street rules go right out the window!

Tiled floor of restored house, now the Museum of Trade Ceramics

Apart from the history of the old section, the other major tourist attraction in Hoi An is the innumerable cloth shops (tailors and dressmakers). At least every second storefront is filled with examples of the latest fashions, whipped up by that particular tailor. Custom-made clothes are inexpensive and can be ready in a few hours. Almost everyone in the group had at least one garment made - we all used the same tailor, and kept running into each other in her shop. Common conversation: “I saw your shirts - they look nice!” “Really? I haven’t seen them yet -but I saw your jacket!”

Delicious, delicious chocolate tart

Most of our time in Hoi An was spent visiting the various historic buildings, eating at a delicious French-style bakery, going back to our cloth shop for fittings, and standing in the hotel pool. Our first full day in Hoi An was cooler than usual - only 34 C (with humidity). The other days were much closer to normals of 39 C; you don’t really have energy to do much more than stand in the pool.

One morning, we made a trip into Da Nang to visit the Marble Mountains and the Cham Museum. The Marble Mountains can be seen from all over the Da Nang area; the area is absolutely flat, with 5 short (as mountains go), but craggy peaks rising out of the sand. Da Nang is surrounded by a mountain belt, but I’ve not been able to locate any specific information on the formation of the Marble Mountains. The 5 peaks, each named for an element (wood, wind, fire, water, metal), are composed of limestone and marble. The surrounding area is composed, not surprisingly, of marble carving shops. The mountains are no longer quarried (eventually, they’d disappear), so the marble sold is imported from other parts of the country.

The largest mountain, Thuy Son (Water Mountain), is the only one open to the public. You can walk up steep and uneven steps to a pagoda partway up, OR - you can take an elevator (new since our last trip). Once there, you can climb more steep and uneven stairs to natural caves, many of which contain large altars and statues, carved out of the marble itself. During the American War, Da Nang was one of the largest military bases in the country; nearby China Beach is famous as an r and r site for American troops. 

The Viet Cong hid in the Marble Mountains, practically under the noses of the Americans. Again, the juxtaposition of religious site and war zone is obvious. Bullet holes are still present in some walls; in the caves, some of the inscriptions carved into the walls are related to the caves’ religious use, while others are carved by VC soldiers. The largest cave, containing a huge carved Buddha statue, was used by the VC as a field hospital. The cave has a number of skylights, allowing enough natural light for the altar to be used as an operating table.

View of the large cave

More (again, steep and uneven) steps lead to the top of the mountain and a spectacular view of the ocean and city of Da Nang, including the area which was the US airstrip. The staircase is new in the past few years; previously, you could reach the top by going through a cave and climbing through a narrow crawlspace. When we crawled through 8 years ago, Ken barely fitting through the space with his daypack, we did so with a group of Vietnamese people who were planning to picnic at the top. They enthusiastically passed food through the narrow spaces, and then skipped nimbly through themselves, the women in high-heeled flip flops.

View from the top of Thuy Son - another of the mountains can be seen in the distance

Detail on an altar

The Cham Museum displays artifacts from the Champa Kingdom. This regime, heavily influenced by Hinduism and later Buddhism,  controlled the central-south portion of present-day Viet Nam from about 200-1600 C.E. They built huge brick temples, some of which still survive and are in use as Buddhist worship spaces. My Son, near Da Nang, was a major site - unfortunately, the American Air Force used the site as target practise during the American War, so many of the surviving structures were damaged or destroyed. The quality of carving in the statues and temples themselves is astounding - archaeologists believe that the buildings were built with dried bricks, mortared with a kind of plant resin, then fired in situ. The carving was done after the firing process. The museum displays well-preserved artifacts collected from My Son and other nearby sites. As far as I know, the Cham remains are limited to temple-related artifacts, and some pottery. No domestic or residential sites have been excavated at this point.

Elephant god, Ganesh

Remainder of peacock statue

Cow statue from a Cham site

What's left of a temple statue

Someone we met at the Cham Museum

A rare empty street (almost) in the old section of Hoi An

Currently, we’re en route to Hue, our next stop. We’re on a local bus, which has had to make a number of stops in Hoi An and Da Nang to pick up other passengers. The AC doesn’t work well; the speedometer, oil pressure, and temperature gauges don’t seem to work at all. And we’ve encountered road construction, just after leaving a rest stop which wins the prize for the worst bathroom in Viet Nam.  3 hours on the road so far! I may have to burn the shirt I’m wearing, but I suspect it is too sweaty to catch fire.

The Real Viet Nam?

Back from the Central Highlands - it’s hard to know where to start! Tin, our tour guide, said that he wanted to show us the real Viet Nam, away from the tourist trail along the coast. And he definitely succeeded in his goal of teaching us about the other side of Vietnamese life.

Elephant Falls

For three days, we drove through fields of both wet and dry rice, coffee, cassava, bananas, corn, flowers, and almost any tropical fruit you can think of. We stayed in hotels mostly frequented by Vietnamese travelers, ate pho bo (beef noodle soup) and boiled corn at roadside restaurants, had coffee with Tin’s cousin, and grilled chicken dinner at the house of a local family.

A teeny resident of a minority village

A tapped rubber tree

Sunset with fish farms in the background

Traditional M'nong longhouse 

As we drove through the incredibly green mountains, we stopped often for pictures, and for Tin to explain Vietnamese history and culture, coffee growing and roasting, rice growing,"happy water" (rice wine) distillation, rubber production, and information about the minority tribes, who were the original inhabitants of the Central Highlands. One of our longer stops was at a small silk-making factory; we were able to see examples of the whole process - from winding the silk strands off the cocoon to weaving the silk thread into the intricate patterns of the fabric.

Silk worm cocoons

And the coffee....mmmmm......coffee. Every place we stopped seemed to have better coffee than the last. Apparently, Viet Nam is the second largest coffee exporter in the world, and the coffee grows in the Central Highlands, some of the plants so high on a hillside to be almost vertical. According to Tin, what makes Vietnamese coffee unique is the roasting process. After the coffee berries’ two skins are removed (the obvious outer layer and a thinner layer right around the bean), the green beans are roasted over charcoal, with inclusions of butter, rum, and a bit of fish sauce (!?). Anyway, the result is wonderful. Another uniquely Vietnamese coffee is ca phe chon, or weasel coffee. Why weasel? Well, first, you feed the coffee berries to a weasel. The weasel then digests the berry part, and the bean...uh....passes through. You collect the result, wash it off, and then continue with the normal roasting process. This is the most expensive type of coffee available (other countries do a similar process with civet cats). And no, I’m not sure who first thought that maybe this would be a good idea.

Coffee berry-eating weasels, strangely relaxed

Along with the coffee, one of my favourite things about Viet Nam is the fruit. One of my highlights from the highlands was our visit to a local market. A REAL local market, not the big city markets which are set up for tourist visits. No iPho t-shirts here! But, if you wanted dishes, tools, shovels, shoes, and clothes, this was the place to go. This is also where the local people buy all their food, including fresh vegetables and herbs, and very fresh meat and fish (some of it not quite dead yet kind of fresh, like).  We went to one of the fruit sellers, sat down on the ground on a tarp, and were given longans, tangerines, and dragon fruit to try, all beautifully fresh and sweet.

Then Tin asked, “Who wants durian?” Now, durian smells. In Canada, it’s sold frozen, partially for preservation during transport, and partially to prevent undue retching in the produce aisle. My friend’s mother likes durian, and the rest of the family makes her eat it in the garage. You cannot bring fresh durian on planes or into hotel rooms in Viet Nam. So, of course, I said, “I’ll try some!” It was...ok. Not fruity at all. To me, it tasted like roasted onions and garlic. In fact, I thought it would go well with a nice coconut curry sauce and maybe some shrimp.

The last part of our journey took us from the Central Highlands to Nha Trang. All of the Central Highlands saw heavy fighting during the American War; one area in particular, the Phoenix Pass, was heavily bombed with Agent Orange. During the American War, the North Vietnamese were able to camouflage themselves enough so that American planes could not detect them moving through the jungle. US command reasoned that with no jungle, the enemy could be easily seen, and with no crops, the enemy could not be fed. Between 1961-71, over 75 million litres of Agent Orange, a dioxin-based defoliant, was sprayed in Viet Nam, Cambodia, and Laos. The effect on the land was devastating, as was the effect on the people. What had been lush jungle became a barren desert, and over 40,000 people were killed outright as a result of the bombings.

After 40 years, the soil is still too contaminated to support plant growth

40 years later, the soil is still contaminated. In parts of Phoenix Pass, nothing grows. In other parts, only one type of tree grows - a type that draws the contaminants out of the ground. Eventually, the contaminants kill the tree, but the local people rejoice, believing that at least some of the poison is gone from the land. Approximately 3 million Vietnamese people have health problems, ranging from cancers, skin diseases, and physical and intellectual disabilities. Children whose grandparents were exposed to Agent Orange are being born with birth defects.

This is what the area should look like

What makes a horrific situation even worse is that there was research available in the early 1960’s, warning against the use of dioxin as a defoliant because of its effect on humans and the environment. The US chose to use the chemical anyway. Furthermore, the US government has admitted that Agent Orange adversely affected US war veterans, and has provided some compensation to them, but refuses to acknowledge the effects on Viet Nam and its people. The government and chemical companies involved (Dow and Monsanto) continue claim that the other should be responsible for any compensation. The US government has begun to pay for the cleanup of former US bases, but experts claim that the payment offered is in no way adequate for a proper job to be done. Meanwhile, the Vietnamese people get on with life as best they can and continue to advocate for acknowledgement and compensation.

At the end of our journey was Nha Trang, a long-time beach city and more recent resort centre. It was like entering a different world, or waking up from a dream. Which Viet Nam was the dream?

School uniforms also double as swimwear!

The last time we were in Da Lat, it rained. It poured. Pairs of animals began gathering near the swan boat dock. I discovered that it is, in fact, possible to soak a Tilley hat so completely that it is useless as rain protection. Nothing dried until we reached Na Trang on the coast. This time - what a difference. Sun! Temperatures in the 20s! Beautiful views of the surrounding mountains! Mild sunburns!

Da Lat is a city at the southern end of the Central Highlands. The area has been the home of minority indigenous tribes for centuries, but was "discovered" by a French doctor in the late 1800s. The French occupiers set up a hill station which, because of the elevation and corresponding cooler climate, quickly became popular as a retreat from the hotter areas of the country. Da Lat is full of French-style villas dating to this time. The last Emperor of Viet Nam had a summer palace here, and the first modern university was established in the city (it was cool enough for the students to concentrate on their studies). During the American War, the city was not bombed, as officials from both sides of the conflict had summer homes in the area.

View of Da Lat - note the Eiffel Tower

Da Lat is famous for its food production; the climate allows for the growing of squash, beans, lettuce, strawberries, avocados, artichokes, coffee, etc. The area looks very much like parts of BC, with pine and cedar trees, roses, and hydrangeas everywhere.

We've spent two days here since our epic 10 hour (!) bus ride from HCMC. We first visited 'Chicken Village', a minority tribe village. The villagers make some, if not most, of their living from sales of traditional weaving to passing tourists. As we were walking through, our tour leader stopped to visit one of her friends, a Buddhist nun - one of the few Buddhists in an otherwise Catholic community. We were all invited in, given bananas and tea, and bought some of her hand-made incense. Another Vietnamese serendipity moment.

The next stop, the Dragon Pagoda, is completely covered by intricate mosaics made of porcelain sherds and the occasional beer bottle. Part of the complex featured a huge female Buddha statue which, upon closer examination, was completely covered by now-dried flowers - it must have been spectacular when the flowers were fresh.

Part of the Dragon Pagoda Complex

Detail of mosaics at Dragon Pagoda

Our final stop, the city museum, provided information on the areas indigenous rocks and minerals, plants, and animals. There was a large section devoted to the traditions of the various tribes of the area, as well as examples of artifacts from archaeological sites from at least four separate time periods and archaeological cultures.

Water buffalo is pleased to meet you

Artifact from ancient Brahmin culture temple in the area - a 'linga-yoni', which would have sat on the altar.
'Linga' represents male; 'yoni', female. You figure out which part is which. 

The second day was a free day, part of which a subgroup of us spent taking a cable car over terraced vegetable plots and tall pines to the Truc Lam pagoda/monastery and meditation gardens. The gardens were beautiful, filled with plants only grown as annuals in Saskatchewan! At home, poinsettias are plants you buy at Christmas and then forget to water; here, they grow into a shrub.

Terraced fields as viewed from the cable car

Bird of Paradise (top) and Poinsettia (bottom)

One amazing memory from Da Lat will definitely be our dinners at the Art Cafe. Correction - the New and Original Art Cafe. Apparently, the restaurant's owner was convinced to sell the name to someone else (since the restaurant was so popular and well-known, others wanted to get in on a good thing). That Art Cafe is a few doors down from the New Art Cafe (which is really the original Art Cafe). Does that make sense? Good.

Fortunately, you can't sell quality, talent, or magic.  The food is wonderful and inexpensive - after our meal the first night, no one had any interest in going anywhere else for the next two. The really special part is the owner, Vo Trinh Bien. Bien (in Vietnamese, the first name is last, the surname first) is an artist; he's responsible for all the art hanging in the restaurant. He's also the only finger-paint artist in the country, and paints a picture for each diner near the end of their meal. Using only ink, water, a sponge, and his own palm and fingers, Bien produces amazing black and white landscapes featuring bamboo, moonlight, mountains, etc. in less than five minutes.

Tomorrow, we begin our tour of the Central Highlands. It's unlikely that there will be internet access available, so the next update may not be for a few days.

On our second full day in HCMC, we went on a boat tour of the Mekong Delta. After a couple of hours drive, we arrived at the dock to join the throngs of tourists going out for similar tours. As Murphy’s Law dictates, by the time we got there, it was raining torrentially (sideways), and the river was choppy and wavy. The trip across to a nearby island was rainy and windy; by the time we left in the afternoon, the rain had stopped and the wind had calmed. For the trip back, the boat’s life jackets were stored - I guess you only need to wear them in less ideal conditions!

We visited a honey farm (with a couple of pythons as pets), heard some traditional music and tried out some local fruit, including sapodilla, which no one in our group had ever had before. The last stop was at a coconut candy factory, which had both candy and coconut wood carvings, utensils, etc. for sale.

Coconut candy making -the long strips will be cut into small squares

The next day, we went in the opposite direction from HCMC, first to Tay Ninh, the Holy See of the Cao Dai religion. This is a completely Vietnamese religion, founded in the late 1800s. Containing elements of Taoism, Confucianism, and Buddhism, it also has a pope (the position has been vacant since the 1930’s). It recognizes Buddha, Jesus, Mohammad, Lao Tzu, Victor Hugo, Lenin, Joan of Arc, and Shakespeare as holy people. The group was once a powerful political force, even supporting an army unit on the South Vietnamese side during the American War. Consequently, the group suffered some sanctions in the aftermath of the North Vietnamese victory. Today, there are still a number of followers in the south of Vietnam. Their buildings are quite colourful and distinctive, using blue, yellow, and red to represent the three founding religions.

The truly devout attend 4 services per day; most just attend the longer noon service, which is the one that our group observed. Members come in to the highly decorated sanctuary, seemingly arranged by level (there are about 58 levels in the faith). Musicians and singers stand at the back of the balcony, visitors stand on the balcony sides, and the congregants sit, cross-legged, in neat rows on the floor. The first half hour of the service consisted of singing and bowing down in unison, then what seemed to be the highest ranking man chanted prayers or scripture, and then set fire to the paper they were presumably written on. Soon after this, the higher ranking people left. The visitors were asked to leave the side balconies, as the singers and musicians relocated. As we left, the service was still going, with the lower ranking people gradually making their way to the front of the sanctuary.

Our driver took us to a place for lunch; when we got there, the owner introduced herself as a former Viet Cong fighter, who had been proclaimed as one of the heroes of the war. She showed us photos on the wall of her receiving her commendation from the Vietnamese prime minister, as well as an article written by a returning US war veteran, talking about his meeting with her. She was delighted to find out that our tour leader was a nurse in the US Navy during the American War. The whole thing was a serendipitous experience, and a good example of the Vietnamese philosophy of forgiveness and moving forward in action.

In the afternoon, we drove to Nui Ba Den (Black Lady Mountain). Geologically, the mountain is a cinder cone - an extinct volcano, rising from the flat Mekong Delta farmland surrounding it. On a clear day, you can see the ocean and into Cambodia from partway up the mountain.

The mountain has been a holy site for thousands of years, and has a pagoda partway up, and a monastery at the top. As with a surprising number of Vietnamese holy sites, it was also a strategic site during the American War. The American army had a signal tower and base on the tops, and both the South and North Vietnamese forces occupied parts of the mountain base and middle. During some research after our last trip, I googled the mountain - many of the hits at that time were from people on US veteran sites, “ I’m looking for information on my son (or brother, uncle, father, etc,). Last known location was Nui Ba Den.” There are a large number of Americans missing in action in the area, and at least 3 times as many Vietnamese.

Today, the mountain is a tourist attraction and pilgrimage site - loads of food and gift stands, cutesy animal statues around the base, and a gondola up to the pagoda partway up. The only people who tend to climb the uneven stairs to the pagoda are Vietnamese pilgrims. Oh, and Ken and me. The hike isn’t too arduous in itself (I mean, we’ve done the Burgess Shale hike), but the humidity meant that it was, as Ken said, “You’ve heard of hot yoga? Well, try hot stair climbing!” We actually ended up climbing higher than we needed to, since two roads diverged in a greenish wood, and we took the one less travelled by (because we couln’t read the sign posts!). We ended up in a little village, freaked out all the dogs, and then had to walk down to the pagoda. We SO took the gondola down. Hiking up provides you with some perspective and sympathy for those American soldiers - walking up carrying equipment, while people much more familiar with the terrain tried to kill you.

Right now, we’re on our way to our second city of the trip, Da Lat. This city is near the Central Highlands, where we’ll also be spending some time. Da Lat will be much quieter than the whirl that was Ho Chi Minh City. As I mentioned earlier, we spend very little time actually in the city 8 years ago, but quite a bit has changed since them. There are far more cars (new, expensive ones) on the road, more western chains (KFC, Starbucks, Pizza Hut, etc.), and more evidence of wealth. The average Vietnamese income is about $1000/year, but there are definitely increasing numbers of wealthy people, many of whom live in HCMC. So, you drive past high-end household furnishing stores, clothing, and electronic stores in one block, and then past tailor shops, traditional craft stores, and “mom and pop” stores in the next. HCMC has also increased in area, with industrial parks and high-rise apartments or condos now appearing in what used to be farmland outside the city.

Currently, we’re hurtling down the highway in a sleeper bus (who do I speak to about getting these in Canada?) towards Da Lat, watching the foliage change from tropical to more deciduous and pine trees rising out of the red earth. The road is narrow and winding as we travel into the highlands, and as usual, the white centre line is just a suggestion. I think some of our group are regretting sitting at the front of the bus so they could see better. Some things are better left to the imagination.