He loves the Vung Tau beach, he’s been for a swim, he’s had his shower and shampoo, now for the long ride home with Mum and Dad back to Ho Chi Minh City …
Guest house
Grass jelly in your belly
Black Grass Jelly: Suong Sao, also called Chinese Mesona, it’s from a type of mint plant.
Add sugar and ice, and Vietnamese love it.
Yes, I gave it a go. I found it odourless and tasteless – not a hint of mint – but really no diffrent to the jelly that Aussies eat as kids, minus the artificial coloring and flavoring.
This herb plant is probably full of healthy goodness…
Morning coffee and an egg – but cooked, and not mixed together
Vietnamese Egg Coffee: I’ve tried – by God, I’ve tried – from Vung Tau to Phu Quoc, both iced and hot, I did my best, folks, but for me it is NOT.
*Pic: iced egg coffee version, and the raw egg yolk/sweet condensed milk forms a custardy curdle that is scooped with a spoon. It’s a treat for locals. I feel bad because it was given to me as a gift. I’ve consumed a quarter of it … but I’m afraid the remainder is staying right where it is.
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
Give a good account of yourself
Does Good Karma accrue interest? I haven’t made a withdrawal in ages but, I swear, I’ve been making a lot of deposits on my travels.
I found this debit card on the street; someone’s stressing out.
The bank’s branch is on the other side of town – of course – so I’ll have to get a taxi and do the right thing … it’s interrupting my “do nothing day”. Hassles. Haha
Looking through beer bottle glasses
A cruel trick: why is the contents label writing so tiny on beer bottles/cans?
The companies must know we will have sampled a few before trying to read the alcohol content. Haha
Anyway, this is Tiger Crystal – the bar staff in SE Asia call it “Tiger light” (hah!) but it’s 4.6% … at USD1, just right in my book.
Have motorbike, will earn …
Fuel costs: how do they make a profit? Selling bags of popcorn by motorbike. Asian tenacity in Vietnam …
Buckle up for a brief break at the beach
Rugged up and ready to roll … a final belt to tighten, and Dad, daughter and son are set for the ride home to Ho Chi Minh after one night away in Vung Tau.
Mum, with baby strapped to her front, has just left on her motorbike. An adorable family.
Ho Chi Minhers go to great lengths for a brief break at the beach …
The peoples of the world are like grains of rice …
We may come in different shapes and colours, but inside all are nourishing and nice.
– Vung Tau, Vietnam
Use your noodle and burn up the fat
Why are the Food Gods so mean to us?
I put leftover street-food noodles in my guesthouse room’s little fridge overnight for ants-proofing, and what you now see is … congealed fat; the stuff that clings to your waistline and won’t budge.
Yes, this is the juice on the delicious street food that we scoff down with a passion; this is the cheap and simple but so satisfying cuisine that brings us to South-East Asia; this is why we painfully learn to use chop sticks; this requires urgent action: a reduction in my nightly cold beer quota? Nope. It looks like an extra 2km on my daily walk, and an extra 10 minutes of daily sea swimming …