After returning from Burma, it was time for me to meet up with a mate in Bangkok and head off for the last leg of the trip, namely the bit through Vietnam and Cambodia. To be honest, I had no idea what to expect from this last month, partly because I knew the change from solo-travelling was going to be tough, but also because other travelers had given Vietnam such mixed reviews. Had we not gotten our visas beforehand, we very likely would have gone to Laos instead, but in retrospect, I’m glad we didn’t. At least for me, Vietnam has held such an allure for so long that it was high-time I check it out for myself. Part of the attraction is a certain historical fascination with the Vietnam War, but also the times preceding it. After all, Vietnam is certainly the true heart of colonial Indo-China, and has seen bitter conflict with several oppressors over the past 2000 years.
Our first impression of the country seemed to confirm some of the more disheartening stories we had heard, for as soon as we stepped off the bus in Hanoi, a horde of touts attacked us with a zeal I hadn’t experienced since India. I know it’s not worth losing your temper with them, but after saying “No thanks” to the same guy for the one-hundredth time, you can’t help but wish you knew Vietnamese for “Do you have a fucking hearing-problem?” After repeatedly removing the touts clinging on to our clothing with tooth and nail, we eventually found a rather nice guesthouse and I was immediately reminded of why so many people prefer to travel in pairs: With two people sharing the cost, you’re simply able to afford far better accommodation. Gone are the days of tattered plastic carpets covering foot-wide holes in the floor and rats scurrying around somewhere in the roof-boards above the bed. Now we usually get a pool, breakfast, A/C, WiFi, TV and a fridge for even less than what I had to pay on my own! If this no longer sounds like backpacking, that’s because it isn’t, but who cares? I’ve wandered through the desert of austerity and have come to an oasis of quasi-luxury, so I may as well drink to my heart’s content!
This is not to say that it hasn’t been a hard transition for me going from solo to (dynamic) duo. Just as I feared, it is far more seldom that we hang out with other travelers than when I was alone, and even worse, the level of our own conversations has rapidly degenerated to that of drunken four-year-olds. (I’ve never actually heard drunken four-year-olds discussing anything, so I’m taking an imaginative leap here.) On the other hand, travelling like this is insanely easy, heaps of fun and infinitely less stressful when things go wrong. Each way has its pros and cons. To sum things up, here’s one of those long overdue platitudes I promised early on: Like everything in life, travelling solo vs. duo vs. group (-o) is a dilemma of trade-offs, and as human nature would have it, you often find yourself longing for the greener grass you just can’t reach. In my experience, it’s usually best to just make the most of whatever the current situation is. It will change soon enough anyway.
Anyway, back to Vietnam: The French may have had their asses thoroughly kicked about and out of the country in 1954, but their influence still remains strong in many ways. For example, fresh, crispy baguettes are sold side-by-side with steaming bowls of noodle-soup in street stalls, and narrowly built, pastel-colored buildings tightly the streets like a giant layer-cake tipped on its side. In some places the street-side cafés even remind you of Paris, with chairs spilling out onto the sidewalk and people either engaged in lively chatter or staring vacantly into their cups. Speaking of coffee, Vietnam must be like Mecca for anyone who worships that black nectar of life before ten AM. It is like rich, delicious sludge that’s so thick you basically need both hands just to stir it. They serve it just the way I like it too: strong enough to stop your heart and sweet enough to leave you buzzing and hyperactive for hours. Seriously, if I don’t come back from here with a deeply-entrenched caffeine-addiction, it’ll be a bloody miracle.
Well, anyways, technically it’s still my birthday so I’d better cut this short and head out to sample the local beers, which, by the way, are ridiculously cheap: Just seventeen Euro cents buys you a glass of decent brew, best enjoyed squatting on tiny plastic chairs by the side of the road in a big group of sullen, red-faced local drinkers. If ever it was economically feasible to become a full-blown alcoholic, it must be now. Bottoms up!
P. S. Great band from Brissie.
Powderfinger – These Days
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