Southern Vietnam

I spent about three weeks in Vietnam, so I’ve decided to split my blog entries into “north” and “south,” drawing the line fairly close to the 17th parallel that divided the country during the war. I began my adventure in a sprawling city down south...


On April 16th I landed in Saigon, a city renamed “Ho Chi Minh City” after reunification but which continues to be referred to as Saigon by pretty much everyone in Vietnam. After a quick jaunt through the Old War Market, where we scoured old photos, lighters and helmets from the war, we stayed in a small hostel called My My Arthouse. I woke up at about 5am with my travel partner-in-crime, Tim, and we hopped on a small airplane to Con Dao, a very empty island off the southern coast.

Con Dao island is incredibly private and undeveloped, with only four resorts spotted amongst its long stretches of blue waters and forests. We designated Vietnam as a plan-as-we-go expedition, but this arrangement led to a bit of a predicament in Con Dao, where there were no taxis or forms of public transport; the only way out of the airport was through private transportation via your booked resort. Um, what resort?

Luckily, one resort had just lost some guests so they were kind of enough to take us into town without requiring commitment to their accommodation. We took the room, of course, and it was the nicest place we stayed the entire trip, with double doors opening up a completely deserted beach and gentle azure sea, speckled with local fishing boats. We rented a motorbike (don’t worry, I didn’t drive) and spent three days exploring, hiking and swimming in this hidden treasure of an island. Con Dao used to be a prison complex, so there were several remains of jails scattered amongst its otherwise tranquil and picturesque landscape.



After Con Dao, we returned to Ho Chi Minh City charged for the rest of our journey. We began with a day trip to the Cu Chi Tunnels, the winding series of tunnels where the infamous combat between the Vietcong and the US Tunnel Rats took place. As one tourist from Tennessee put it, “I hate to admit it, but they were clever little guys.” The Vietcong constructed these tunnels, not only for fighting and defense (can you say traps with spikes?), but for daily living, cooking, sleeping... After squeezing through one of the tunnels I couldn't imagine living in there for a day, let alone seven years.

We departed Saigon via sleeper train (which, incidentally, is turning out to be one of my favorite forms of travel in Asia), and arrived in the less-traveled city of Da Nang. Da Nang is usually utilized as a transitional city, a point of passage between Hoi An to its south and Hue to its north, but we got some really nice insight into the city from two locals. Kent, an editor for Vogue Vietnam, took us out for some 15,000 dong crab & noodle lime soup (that’s about 75 cents US), and told us about his job. As he was jetting me over a colorfully lit bridge on his motorbike, Kent advised me to follow my dreams as a writer.

The next day we rode down to Hoi An, on a coastal road that was so heavily packed with resort construction sites I could hardly see the actual ocean. One thing I can say with certainty about Vietnam is that it’s a country in absolute transition. I’ve never seen such large or plentiful construction projects in all of my life; I also think the younger generation has the potential to revitalize their country with their level of motivation and openness to the outside world (in spite of the restrictions of their government or otherwise).

Hoi An was definitely my favorite city in Vietnam; it was historically a port town, where the import and export of goods flowed during the French colonization. Hoi An was characterized by series of small yellow buildings, with tiled roofs, cobblestone streets and lanterns dangling above every street. Hoi An is best known for its tailor-made clothing, whose magnetism I could not resist. The efficiency with which they created a professional business suit to my exact measurements was astounding. Tailoring is a trade the families in Hoi An have perfected to the point of artistry.


After Tim procured three shirts, jeans and shoes, and I succumbed to sandals and a jacket (when am I going to use a jacket in Thailand?), we agreed a swift departure from Hoi An was necessary to prevent a total financial crisis. The next stop was Bach Ma National park, which a German traveler in Saigon recommended very highly. After a difficult, multi-vehicled journey, we arrived at the gates of Bach Ma only to be informed that 75% of the park was closed due to a blocked road. Since the sun was low and we’d traveled all the way there, we resigned ourselves to stay one night and see what there was to see the next day. One feature of Bach Ma was the “Sliding Rock,” which was essentially a series of mossy rocks glossed over by a steady stream of water, which led to a pool below; basically, nature’s waterslide. I spent about an hour sliding down the rock with local university students (not a westerner to be seen), and had a few beers in the bamboo platforms constructed around the waterfall.


The next morning Tim and I began what we thought would be an enjoyable hike to the only available waterfall. Although I should have learned to distrust the scale of Asian maps by now, I was blissfully unaware of the 2 hour trek straight up a blacktop road (positively radiating with heat) that lay before us—and that was before the actual trail began. I’ve never been that sweaty in all my life, and I live in Thailand. Thankfully, the waterfall was worth it. Two waterfalls, actually, each leading to a deep pool of water I could jump into from surrounding boulders. Swimming under an empty waterfall, surrounded by butterflies and bird calls emanating from the heart of the dense forest… these are the moments I travel for. The almost sappy moments you start to believe are unattainable when you’re surrounded by tons of backpackers desperately in search of meaning and serenity somewhere in the heart of Asia.



After that we were off to Hue, which is where I will begin by “North Vietnam” post next entry. Now to give my keyboard a rest…