Let's see, where did I leave off...
After Hoi An, we nightbussed it to Nha Trang. I came down with a cold and thus spent the next three days sulking in a lounge chair on the beach while Sara rekindled her youth by frolicking in the water park. 10 Gold Stars go to the book vendors, who wander the beach selling their latest bootlegged versions of cult classics. 15 Gold Stars to the sunglasses vendor who, when the book vendors were no where to be found, went and found me books anyway.
And 100 Gold Stars to Sara for her drunken nursing skills while attending to my infected foot (due to the blister I got from the flippers when diving... yes, I'm that much of a gimp) that I accidentally spilled beer in.
Our final stop in 'Nam was Saigon. As a city, it's really nothing special. However, we did use it as a base for a couple pretty radical day trips. The first was to a Cam Dai temple. Cam Dai is a religion that was formed in the 1920s and is sort of a hodgepodge of Christianity, Buddhism and Taoism. I can't quite figure out the details, but the temple was very brightly coloured with an awesome sky/stars mural on the ceiling (sort of like my bedroom in grade eight) and there were lots of old men in fancy hats. Then, we headed to the Cu Chi tunnels, which is where a lot of the fighting during the Vietnamese/American war went down. We saw a few of the booby-traps the Vietnamese created, and a bomb crater left by a B52, and we each got to hide in a hole (which was more exciting than it sounds, I promise). We were humming The Doors and other 70s rock music the entire time we ran through the jungle. And finally we crawled through these TINY tunnels that the Viet Cong had used to get around during bomb drops. The tunnels were incredibly tiny (although they'd actually been widened so fat western tourists could go through them) and stuffy and dark. We started crouching and then had to resort to crawling, and then I realised that there wasn't an actual bomb being dropped and thought to myself, "Nuts to this!" and bailed out the emergency exit. But Sara was brave; she gritted her teeth and crawled to the very end.
We also went to the war museum (yes, I went to a MUSEUM--though in all fairness, the only way Sara got me there was by promising that there would be photos of deformities and other grusomely awesome stuff). It was actually very interesting. Mostly there were just photos with simple captions, as well as quotes from the UN about how it was an illegal war and how the Americans were guilty of committing war crimes. There were also photos of Agent Orange victims (1st and 2nd generation), and of protests that took place in cities all over the world (including Ottawa... were any of our hippie parents in attendance??). It was disturbing and very direct, but not over the top. What's amazing is that the entire time we've been in Vietnam we haven't felt any anti-American sentiment. Apparently it's water under the bridge--even though there are still many Agent Orange 2nd generation victims in wheelchairs with deformed legs around Saigon. Talk about a laid back bunch of people! A bazillion Gold Stars for everyone, indeed.
We also took a day trip to the Mekong Delta, which turned out to be very similar to Allapey in India, except not quite so cool. We rode in a canoe that wove through waterways in between huge palms curving over head, and we got to wear conical straw hats while doing so. Groovy. And we were served fancy honey tea, although the experience was somewhat tainted by an onslaught of bees who were apparently here to reclaim that which had been stolen from them. Oh, and we also saw Toy Story Three, which is really not very cultural but is the greatest thing to happen to cinema since Clueless, and thus deserves a mention here.
And then, after a ridiculous night of travel (you're really not a backpacker until you've boarded a plane with a box of pizza, eating a slice... or does that make you a Ninja Turtle?) and a couple of hours camping out with our sleeping bags and eye-masks in the airport, we made it to Boracay in the Philippines. And it is GORGEOUS. Even in our groggy, grumpy, sleep-deprived state our jaws simultaneously dropped the second we saw the beach. Sand whiter than Hollywood teeth, a sea in colours of azure I didn't know existed outside Photoshop... The locals are so, so, so friendly. We can't go more than LITERALLY eight feet without hearing, "Heyyyy, nice hair!!" and everyone is eager to chat and make friends. It's a stark contrast to Vietnam, when the only time people would talk to you was when they were trying to rip you off. Plus, everybody here speaks perfect English!!! Hallelujah. It's extremely westernized here, which unfortunately means western prices, but we did get to eat pizza tonight while watching some awful slapstick American game show and listening to cheesy nineties pop and by golly I wouldn't have changed it for the world (a little taste of home goes such a long way to the grungy backpacker).
Today, we went island hopping, which is where you jump on a boat and they take you to various islands, and you spend about an hour on each one sunbathing or splashing around or exploring caves or eating or whatever. We got to go snorkling and it was absolutely INCREDIBLE. The reef was far more alive than in Hoi An, and there were soooooooo many fish!! Hundreds, nay thousands, of little brightly coloured things zipping around us like tiny racecars. I even saw a jelly fish. It was small (so not too dangerous) but I didn't hang around to inspect it--instead I high-tailed (high-flippered?) it outta there asap. Oh, and we both almost got run over by the ice-cream man... while snorkling. He was in a little rowboat. And very easygoing.
And that's all the news that's fit to print...
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