Choice: In with the new while keeping the old

A view to the future: Ibis will be a perfect fit for the foreshore at Vung Tau, Vietnam.

The popular weekend escape for Ho Chi Minh City’s populace, Vung Tau is balancing the accomm options with new, proportionate hi-rises while keeping the multitude of traditional nhà nghì “motel” guesthouses. Choice.

This “Ibis Suites” Hotel on the “back beach” is having the finishing touches and will soon open. (The security guard came over and went crook at me for taking this pic – all the while he was smiling, as they do. Haha.)

Vung Tau is so do-able…

Double the Delights of Vietnam

Happy in Hanoi, GREG HACKETT hits the road to Vung Tau. Literally.

I came. I saw. I broke a big toe. (Apologies to Julius Caesar.) However, Vung Tau might just be my lucky break. I’ve been on the hunt for an “easily do-able” South-East Asian seaside destination to replace Cambodia’s diabolically destroyed Sihannoukville, and this south Vietnamese pearl is looking perfect. Even an aching toe (I don’t suppose you can sue a municipal council for an uneven footpath injury in this part of the world, eh? Haha) doesn’t seem so bad, with the aid of osteo-paracetemol, Saigon Green beer, a beach, and a thousand smiling faces.

Pullman Perfection

Variety is the essence of this Vietnam journey: imagine French Versailles one day, Ancient Sparta the next; from a Hanoi Pullman luxury suite to a standard room at Vung Tau’s Hoang Cam guesthouse. This is how I travel. And I love it.

My first time in Hanoi, and the Pullman makes it easy. An optician across the street from the hotel’s entrance is handy – I have my eyes checked with the hi-tech gadgetry, and order (with same day delivery) several new spectacles of the same or superior quality, and half the price, of those I bought in Melbourne. The Pullman is located on the edge of the Vietnam capital’s “embassies precinct”, with the Temple of Literature, Uncle Ho’s Museum and all the other bits and pieces that tourists seek. The Pullman’s concierge provides a map for a casual 40-minute “cultural walk”.

Embassy “Spy” tail

Now with good vision (and a full stomach from the breakfast buffet) I gladly put the map to use. As I strolled (or semi-hobbled, with a crook back) past the Ukraine embassy’s gated entrance, a 30-something, hair shortly cropped, blue eyed blond bloke, dressed all in trendy black, emerged with a beautiful Vietnamese girl. He nodded “hello” to me, and I nodded in acknowledgement and let them pass, as I further studied my “cultural walk” route. By pure coincidence, we headed in the same direction – him chatting to his young companion and darting glances back at me, and me schlepping along about 30 metres behind, happily absorbed in trying to decipher street directions. Ten minutes later, we passed the Chinese embassy and crossed the intersection, to Lenin Park. With a quick frown in my direction, he ducked out onto the street, stopped a taxi, hurriedly bundled his lady acquaintance into the back seat, jumped in himself, and off they sped to their … afternoon assignation.

The silly bloke. If he thought I was tailing him, Putin’s spies must now be half the height and twice the age!

Choice accommodation

Smaller, “no-frills” guesthouses and hotels (the ubiquitous sign Nhà Nghi in Vietnamese) suit a solo traveller such as myself, and the Hoang Cam guesthouse, at US$7 a night, ticks the boxes: fan and aircon, WiFi, mini fridge, cleanliness, location and a bonus balcony. However, for a traveller, a couple or a family wanting quality/price comfort, I can’t speak (or write) highly enough of the Hanoi Pullman. My many friends and contacts who have followed my travel writings over the years are familiar with my praise for the Accor accommodation properties Pullman/Sofitel/Novotel – because I’ve simply never had a problem with them. And I can be blunt in my assessment.

Travel Tip: Always tip the hotel/guesthouse manager the day you arrive, not the day you depart. It makes sense.
At Vung Tau’s Hoang Cam hotel, The reception lady mistakenly overcharged me when I prepaid my bill. The following day, the manager informed me and reimbursed the cash. Most Vietnamese and Cambodians are good like that …

https://asianjourneys.com.sg/eMagazine

Getting fresh on a lunch date

The little lunch date soon becomes a seafood feast: that’s me when I see FRESH from the sea.

Two crabs steamed (my fav), a lobster grilled, a whole fish (I mistakenly pointed to the cobia, I meant grouper. Oh well) in that SEAsian tomato sauce that makes any fish delish, and a large seafood noodles.

Add an iced tea (trà dá, I relish it), a little Red Bull and a small water: USD100/AUD150 (I’m glad our politicians are paid in AUD, not USD)

QANTAS OFFERS COLD COMFORT

Have no fear of burning your mouth when eating the inflight meal in Qantas economy class. The meal warmers at the paupers’ end of the plane must have one setting: cool. Hey, you might even find a frozen woolly mammoth in the middle of the veggie lasagna. OK, that last bit is an exaggeration, but it’s a pity the Qantas “cattle class” meals (which are notorious for running out) have a reputation for arriving lukewarm at best. Why? Cathay, Vietnam, Thai, Singapore – the Asian airlines’ meals have to be opened and left to cool before consumption.

REACQUAINTING WITH QANTAS

This is my first Qantas flight since ditching the disappointing Australian national carrier 4 years ago, and I’m on what I dub the “M&M flight”: Monday Midday, Melbourne to Singapore. It’s a fair fare – all airfares have leaped lately as fuel prices soar – I like the daytime departure, and the cabin crew are friendly. And digital-savvy: “If you like my service, please go online and say so – don’t forget to hashtag Qantas,” ebullient Ana tells a bubbly bunch of Aussie ladies as she serves their second drink with their (tepid) lunch. It’s good vibes, all round. My mini bottle of a cheeky Embrazen shiraz warms the soul where the limp lasagne failed (it was tasty and wholesome, if only it was not cold). The passenger on my left only nibbles at his “pre-ordered meal”, the passenger on my right takes one mouthful of her Asian chicken and declines the rest, saying the food is cold and the chilli is way too hot. Oh the irony! You just know the preferred passengers in Business and First, sitting above you – literally, as they are seated on the top deck – are being fawned over. For more than a decade, Qantas management’s attitude has imbued an elitism; a segregation in travel. There are the important “us”, and then there’s “them” down the back there. But so long as Ana and her cabin colleagues keep up their good service and friendly fun, the flying majority will remain happy in economy class and perhaps stay loyal to the Flying Kangaroo.

***

MIRACLE ON A MOTORBIKE

Moses. This motorbike taxi bloke from now on is known as “Moses”. The way he parted the storm clouds, all the way from Bui Vien Street to Ho Chi Minh City airport, was nothing short of a travel miracle. Or maybe an even better moniker is “Charlton Heston”, the actor who played Moses in the movie. After all, Heston also played Ben-Hur – and starred in that unforgettable scene with the racing chariots weaving and dodging, trying to “knock off” each other. Today, there was thunder and lighting to our left, to our right, to the north, to the south, and yet my man has delivered me – via Vietnam peak-hour traffic, a dirt road and the wrong way around a roundabout – to the International Terminal “bone dry” and in one piece (though my crook back is screaming for painkillers). And then he’s charged me double – a whopping 6,000 dong (USD25), while telling me how much he “loves Melbourne, Australia: Number 1”. Maybe “Charlton Heston’s agent”, is a more appropriate nickname.

***

IT’S SENSIBLE TO BE SUS

Stop staring at the clock, it won’t tick any faster: I’m bored and sitting at HCMC Airport, waiting to check-in. A man in his early 20s, wearing black framed glasses, shorts, a tired looking T-shirt, thongs and looking very much like a stressed out uni student, approaches me and, in a good effort at speaking English: “Excuse me sir, but I was wondering if you can please help me to buy a ticket.”

Me: “Why? What’s the problem?”

Student: “I must catch the flight but my card has been declined. Can you please help me? I can pay you back…”

Me: (CENSORED)

I watch “uni student”, who has small markings on the ankles and calves of both legs – which may be from bed bugs or needle tracks but let’s presume bed bugs – walk the length of the departures area several times and approach middle-aged men of Western appearance. But to no avail and he eventually wanders off into the crowd, empty handed.

I really do hope I misjudged the guy and that he was genuinely seeking assistance. I mean, at least he didn’t ask me to carry his backpack on the flight for him …

(Article from Asian Journeys magazine, August-September 2019 issue)

 

My Mr (coffee) Bean Moment

Why won’t this coffee machine work? It’s plugged in, the capsule’s in, I’m pushing the blue “blast off” button – but no action? Cursing my ignorance, I upend the machine to retrieve the capsule from the tiny hole, and stupidly spill the water (urgggh) all over the kitchen bench and, oh, look – what’s this little “on/off” switch at the base at the back … Rowan Atkinson would’ve been proud of my performance. Anyway, eventually the coffee tasted good, with complex and, umm, drawn-out flavours.  At the Novotel Resort, Phu Quoc island, Vietnam

GOODNIGHT AND GOOD BYE TO SIHANOUKVILLE

In a couple of years the smart accomm operators – Accor Novotel, Marriott Le Meridien, InterContinental etc – will bring class and sensibility to Cambodia’s coastal playground. Meanwhile, it’s all Chinese-only casinos and rubble. They didn’t have to bulldoze the little guys: the shorefront bars, eateries, and US$10-US$20 a night guest houses; there’s 100km of undeveloped coastline.   Anyway, “Cheers” and Choum reap lear

PLEASURE IN PAIN

Phnom Penh dispatches: Not unlike an Alabama catfish that’s been stunned numb and dumb by an electric eel, I’ve been thoroughly “therapied” by a blind massage therapist; my lumbar osteoarthritis pummelled into submission. Kneaded and prodded like Topolino’s pizza dough. Therapists obviously have varying degrees of blindness: one bloke has a flash Rolex wristwatch, and I catch my therapist with one hand working my arm while the other is checking messages on her mobile phone. $US7 an hour (for foreigners) and well worth it…