Scooter Diaries doesn't have the same ring

I drove a motorbike for the first time yesterday. It was probably my 5th time on one ever, and driving it was sort of a trial by fire.

I had a false start in Dalat- I planned to rent a semi-automatic bike (gear shifters, right foot brake), but I couldn't get it to go into gear with the directions of our hotelier. In retrospect, I probably wasn't giving it enough gas as I shifted from neutral to first, especially since I was starting it on a hill.

Here in Phu Quoc, renting an automatic bike (no shifters, brakes on the handlebars- a scooter) costs $5.25 a day, paid in cash up front. If you can drive it away from the person renting it out, you can drive it anywhere, so the logic goes.

I acknowledge that riding a scooter isn't the same challenge as a motorcycle. That said, my first 30 yards of riding went up a steep hill, over rocks that almost bottomed out the shocks, and finally up a steep hill with dust and gravel.

The bikes come with the fuel gauge on empty, so I had a low-speed warmup as I cruised around looking for a gas station. Then, with Daria on back, we headed into the hills, bound for Bai Thom beach.

The roads in town are wide and paved. There are stoplights and signs. As you leave town, the paved surface gives way to a red dirt track, but at least the track was smooth.

The road got steadily worse as we went. Most of the road was under construction, so there were dump trucks and steamrollers and various earth movers. While getting around the machinery was nerve-wracking, we went slow, and so did everyone else. Despite the relative lack of traffic laws here, since everyone rides motorcycles, it's probably safer than in the US for bikers.

I tipped the bike once, deep in the hills. The road was worst where there were muddy portions with ruts dug by trucks and construction equipment. I was probably going 5mph down a hill, trying to ride in a rut, when I hit a patch of mud several inches deep and the front tire slid it from under me. Daria was fine. I had a very minor scrape on my knee, and was pretty muddy, but only my pride was really hurt.

I didn't put much gas in when we set out, since I had no clue what I was doing. So up in the hills we were running out of gas. There aren't gas stations in the boonies, but most convenience stores have plasic bottles of gas on a little wooden cart out front. So, after some confusion regarding the price, a kid poured gas through a filters funnel into my tank, holding his dripping popsicle out of the way of the pour.

We eventually made it to Bai Thom beach, we think. We made it to a beach in Bai Thom, at least. We parked the scooter under a palm tree within view of the water, and waded around. It wasn't the most scenic of beaches (we'd picked it more or less at at random), but we had it to ourselves, save for a couple of fishermen.

When we made it back I was a much better motorbike rider.  I handled the mud much better in my rematch, and the worst we suffered was sunburns on the tops of our legs and the back of our necks from the ride.  There was one confusing spot where a dumptruck working on one side of the mud had blocked off our side with its pile of dirt. I stopped, confused, trying to figure out where to go. The dumptruck driver laughed at us from his cab, and pointed to a less tall pile of dirt. Up and over it we went- doing as the natives do.

 

This is a good paved road.

 

This is a good unpaved road. Sadly, we have no pictures of the badly torn up roads- we were too busy riding. 

 

Bai Thom Beach? A beach in Bai Thom. 

Condiments done right

Direct marketing, Vietnam-style

Decorations? We have some ornaments...

Regarding decorations and foreigners, this hole in the wall beer place
in Saigon is the exception. Packed with Westerners, but the paint is
chipping and they still had up Xmas ornaments. We went back 3 nights
in a row for cheap beer and squid kebabs, an saw a lot of the same
faces.

Sunset drinks on Phu Quoc Island

Decorating for foreigners

We were the only westerners at this open-air restaurant (beer garden?) in Nha Trang.
 

We've observed a difference in atmosphere between establishments that cater to, and attract, Westerners, and those that seem to target and attract Vietnamese.  Western-oriented restaurants, even those that serve only Vietnamese food, tend to have warmer lighting and more attention paid to things like paintings and table fittings than those focused on a Vietnamese clientele.

This beer garden had bare fluorescent bulbs, tiny plastic chairs and tables, and the only nod to decoration was that the corrugated metal walls had a bamboo sort of pattern painted on them. I think this appearance scares off foreigners.

When we were on Cat Ba Island, we ate at a restaurant named Bamboo, recommended in the Lonely Planet. The place was warmly lit, had table cloths, and was decorated with stained bamboo shoots. Next door was Huang Y, also in the Lonely Planet, but its tables were bare metal, the walls were pale blue, and the lights were compact fluorescents hanging from electrical wire. Bamboo was packed with foreigners, Huang Y was empty.

The next day we ate at Huang Y. The prices were lower, the food was as good or better than Bamboo's. There was no reason we could think of to eat at Bamboo over Huang Y, save the atmosphere.

It made us note our predispositions to a certain kind of decor, and I think we've gotten better at avoiding it. It's led us to gems like the place in Nha Trang. I'm glad to have places like this to ourselves, but for the sake of their proprietors, I hope they understand why Westerners make the decisions they do, and know how to change if they want our business. Fancy lighting doesn't seem to indicate a good spot, but it does seem to predict where the tourist dollars go. 

Dogs dig banh mi

Nha Trang

We decided to stop here for a day on our way to Dalat, instead of
spending 18 hours straight on the bus. I think it was a good call.

Bia hoi

Bia hoi is 'fresh beer', brewed daily. Light and crisp. Perfect in
100+ degree heat.

Forgetting the Champa

My Son was the religious center of the Champa kingdom in Vietnam. The
temples there are located in the hills, now remote, south of Danang
and Hoi An.

The Champa were Hindu, and the architecture is adorned with statues of
Shiva and Ganesh, as well as the occasional prominent linga. The
temples themselves are windowless,
and built with fitted bricks (no mortar used).

When the site was rediscovered by the French (one assumes the locals
knew all about it), they set about to restore the temples. The only
problem was that the technology for fitting the bricks together had
been lost.

It's amazing to me that something like happens. Is it so much better
to use mortar that everyone who fitted bricks together simply stopped?
One can almost imagine the mortar manufacturers as a sort of mafia-
your building didn't receive their 'protection' if you didn't use
mortar. Maybe it was just much easier and cheaper to use mortar, but
you'd think the luxury market would stick around.

Additionally, the older bricks maintain their red color, while the
newer ones are blackened by humidity and mold and weather. The guide
at the site said it was because of the protective coating applied to
the original bricks by the Champa- a layer of pine sap and other goop.
I have a hard time believing that this protective coat is still there
on the bricks.

Regardless of the cause of technological devolution and mechanisms of
color protection, you can tell the difference between the original and
restored portions of the ruins by whether the bricks use mortar and
whether they look old or new- the better looking sections are the old
ones.

The Vietcong used the site as a weapons cache and communications
center during the US occupation. I don't know if it was because of the
remoteness of the temples, or their setting in the hills, or because
they thought the temples were inviolate by the US military. Nixon
ordered the temples carpet bombed to flush out the VC. Apocryphally,
when the B52s couldn't finish the job, he sent in helicopters with
rockets. Given the depth of the craters and their proximity to the
structures, it's a surprise anything survived.

Now My Son is a UNESCO World Heritage Site, and some people compare it
to Angkor or Borobudur. As an ancient seat of religion the comparison
holds, but in scale and breathtaking vistas probably not so much- I'll
let you know when I see Angkor in a few weeks.

Daria picks her dress for prom

2 pineapples, peeled, 75 cents

Formatting

Some combination of blogger, typing my post on an iPhone notepad, and
publishing the post via email seems to have resulted in weird
formatting. Sorry about that- I'll try to fix it when I'm on an actual
computer.

Sent from my iPhone

Sea kayaking Lan Ha Bay

This is right before I flipped my kayak and went into the drink with Daria's camera. I was completely fine in the kayak out of the bay with big ocean waves. Trying to fix Daria's rudder in a calm cove, however, was more than I was up for. Camera status is uncertain- we're giving it more time to dry. I'd say long odds for a recovery, though...

Cat Ba Town harbor

View from our hotel.

Hanoi Hustle

We were beginning to get frustrated with the death by a thousand
cuts that is the Hanoi hustle. Tonight was better, though.

Most times, a shopkeeper or taxi driver isn't out to fleece you, just
make an extra little bit here or there. One vegetarian restaurant we
went to follows the Chinese model of offering you wet wipes before
your meal, but charging you if you use them. You can opt out by not
opening the packs, which is what I always did in China, but my guard
wasn't up here. Total cost was like 10 cents, but it was the
principle. The same restaurant also charged for our un-ordered peanut
appetIzer- 25 cents.

Sometimes the hustle is more of a highway robbery (alley robbery might
be more appropriate for Hanoi.) A cab we took from the Hanoi bus
station to the train station obviously had a rigged meter. The thing
was ticking like mad, much faster than in other rides. The driver was
running on empty, and stopped to get gas without pausing the meter. I
yelled at him a bit, and resolved to myself not to pay for the fare
from that wait, but it was pretty fast and ended up being about a
nickel. The trip ended up costing more than twice as much as a trip
of a similar length and time a couple of days before- 112,000 dong
this time, or almost $6. For perspective, one combination bus-bus-boat-
bus ticket to get from an island 200km out of Hanoi back into the city
was $9. I was pissed about the cabby, but it was raining and we were
trying to catch a train and I justified it by saying that the
difference between a fair price and what he was asking wasn't very
large in U.S. terms. I tried to pay with a 100,000 bill and a 20,000
bill, expecting 8,000 back, and he tried to give me a 2,000 bill back
in change, shorting me 6,000, claiming he didn't have any more change.
I grabbed my 20,000 bill back, gave him about 4,000 or so I had in
small bills, and explained that I wouldn't pay more unless he had
change. He continued to claim he didn't, so I walked away with him
yelling at me.

The amounts of money I'm talking about are tiny. It's the principle-
feeling constantly under siege and like somebody's mark. I hate losing
these exchanges because I dislike thinking that they're smiling to
themselves about that little extra they just made. It's even worse if
they think they got away with it without my noticing. I don't like
feeling like a chump.

The bus we took today from Danang to Hoi An is supposed to cost 10,000
dong. When we got on, they asked for 50,000. I pointed out that the
side of the bus listed the price at 10,000, but the old lady taking
money pointed at our backpacks and arms (skin?) and said "Not for
you." At least she was being honest. We ended up not taking her bus,
but still paid 30,000 on the next one. Victory is getting taken for
less than you might have otherwise, I suppose.

Addendum: Vietnam isn't all like this. For none of my previous visit
did I feel so much like a target. Today, in Hoi An, we ate at a
vegetarian restaurant where we were the only foreigners. The
proprietor's young daughter was assigned to serve us because she spoke
a bit of English (more than I speak Vietnamese...). She was sweet and
helpful, explaining things and tolerating my pidgin Vietnamese. We
paid local prices (they were so low they couldn't be anything else)
despite the lack of clear price labels and the obvious opportunity for
markup. The food was fantastic. We left smiling, and would have been
happy to have paid more- we'll go back for sure.

Addendum part 2: I have to be careful not to wave off everyone who
says hello to us on the street with a "no thank you". Sometimes they
just want to say hello. Smiling at people in Vietnam gets a smile back
far more often than it ever would in the U.S. I should even try to
smile more at the people on the street trying to sell us things.

Sent from my iPhone

Meter maids

Don't fuck with 'em in Vietnam.

War trophies at the Army Museum

Museums are very interactive in Vietnam- if touching isn't encouraged,
it's sure not discouraged. We kept our grubby fingers off the
paintings at the fine arts museum, though.

Hanoi

In Hanoi, dodging motorcycycles.

Hipstamatic jet plane

Hanoi Tomorrow

Airline chaos is my only worry. Will my backpack still have straps
when it arrives at the luggage claim in Vietnam? Will United charge
us for checked bags, even though they're only flying us 1 leg of our 3
leg journey? Will we have to check in again through security again in
DC, even though we only have a 2 hour layover?

I'm no so much worried about traveling in a country where I don't know
anyone and don't speak the language. It's unfortunate that airline
customer service and security and the like have gotten so bad that my
perception is that the flight will be scarier than the rest of the trip.

I hope I remembered to pack socks.

Test post from iPhone

Second Tour

Leaving for Hanoi in 8 days. Stay tuned.