We hadn’t traveled out of the Philippines in nearly a year and that was to the US to see family; so it sort of doesn’t count. Since the house was finished, the house blessing done, the shop done, lawn installed, etc. it seemed like a great time to get out of Dodge. I’d been to Vietnam eight years before (prior to marrying Janet) and had told her consistently that it was a place I wanted to take her. The following are some impressions.
Grab Not Cab: You’d think after years of Philippines experience we wouldn’t make the taxi cab mistake but we did. We arrived in Ho Chi Minh City late and took a metered cab. I had downloaded Grab the day before and set it up, but since I had never used it, I did the traditional and crappy taxi thing. Big mistake. When we arrived at our condo rental we couldn’t figure out what we owned the driver, who spoke barely a word of English. After 5 minutes of arguing it became clear that he wanted an astronomical amount that would have been higher than a NYC cab fare. I refused, pretending to be an idiot American (an easy pretend). We finally agree to less than half of what the meter said but about triple what I should have paid.
The next day we did our first Grab. What a revelation! Easy to use, the car arrived minutes later, I knew exactly what the fare would be, no cash was involved, I could choose to tip or not after the trip was over, and best of all no one had to speak any pesky English! We took Grab throughout the rest of our week and the only issue we had was traditional taxis stopping and trying to pick us up or even pretending that they were the Grab car; Grab tells you the license plate number so always pay attention to that. Now that we know how well it works any trip in Manila or Cebu will from now on be a Grab. If only they could set up Dumaguete’s trikes on Grab. What are the odds?
Japanese Steaks Are Small: One of the reasons we were traveling to Vietnam was to celebrate my birthday. The number’s too high to track, so don’t ask me what birthday it is. I looked up reviews and found a Japanese steak house on the 77th floor of Landmark 81, the tallest building in the city. This building was so tall that you had to take 3 elevators to get to the 77th floor – I kid you not. It took two elevators to get to the 78th floor and then they dropped you out the window one floor to get back to floor 77. Ok, that’s not true; you had to take another elevator to get down to floor 77. About halfway through this elevator excursion I realised that I hadn’t been this high up in a very long time and it scared the shit out of me. We reached the restaurant and were seated next to a window. I looked out and thought, ‘Why the hell did I come here?’ Janet, ever the positive wife asked “How tall was the World Trade Center?” The birthday celebration was not starting out the way I’d anticipated.
I ordered the famed Wagyu sirloin steak. Janet ordered salmon, which became a favourite of hers back in Portland. The salmon arrived first. It looked good but it was about 3/4 of the size of a business card. The steak arrived next. “Did I order from the appetiser menu?” I asked Janet. The steak was about the size of my iPhone (and thinner) and I have a 6S. Thank goodness we’d gotten a salad as well.
Both the steak and salmon were delicious but you know good taste only takes you so far when you finish in three bites.
‘Maybe we should get a dessert?’ I thought. Actually I thought, ‘Maybe I should get another steak,’ but at the prices I wasn’t gonna do that.
Darling Janet had, unbeknownst to me, asked about cake for my birthday. The lights to the entire restaurant were dimmed and the staff brought out the piece of cake and sang happy birthday. I was just thinking, ‘Is this enough to fill me up?’ I also was thinking based on the thimble sized salmon and iPhone sized steak, ‘What’s this cake costing me?’ Turned out to be complimentary; Janet had charmed them.
Bring Your Own Napkins: I liked Vietnamese food and we had many good experiences eating. One thing that was odd was that at many restaurants they provided you with damp wipes rather than napkins. At the end of the meal Janet examined the bill and asked the waiter about a particular charge. Yes it was for the wipes; they were charging about $.25/wipe and we’d both used a couple. WTF! From then on I made sure I was a one wipe guy.
The Virus and Masks: Lots of people in Vietnam wear face masks when they are out in public but the number seemed to increase as the week went on and the news about the Chinese Coronavirus got more dire. As I watched all the masks appalled, the cynic in me kicked in and I thought, ‘So you all think a $.01 piece of paper is gonna block a virus?’ Eventually even Janet went out and bought herself some face masks. It saddened me, all these masked faces. It reminded me of a Danny Boyle zombie movie. Perhaps it’s just my old age. Back in my childhood wearing a mask meant one of two things: you were either pretending to be the Lone Ranger or were robbing us .
By the time we got on our flight to head back to the Philippines I would estimate that 75% of the passengers on our flight (including Janet) were wearing masks. All the flight crew were masked. And not a single one of them looked like Clayton Moore.
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Crazy Drivers – Vietnam Style:
For those who think that the Philippines has the market cornered on crazy drivers, come to Vietnam. With 4 million motor bikes in Ho Chi Minh City, it’s the Wild Wild West. Bikes routinely drive on the sidewalks as pedestrians jump out of the way. But just as in the Philippines, within few days Janet and I got used to it. But be forewarned; a car or bike will absolutely not stop for a pedestrian.
Happy Ending and a Shoe Fetish:
In the middle of our week we wanted a massage. I had regaled Janet about stories of the wonderful massages I’d had in Vietnam eight years before. Unfortunately it was January 24th, New Years Eve in Vietnam and we found that most massage places were closed. The only open one nearby was in that high rise where we’d had dinner. We booked a time. The facility was the fanciest massage place I’d ever seen. The bathroom, with sauna, probably cost as much as my entire house. The massage that followed was decent but not the best we’d had. In fact the best we’d ever had, was a couple months ago in Bohol.
Still, we wanted another experience and so on the last day in Vietnam we walked though the downtown district and picked one of the dozens of massage places in that area. No reviews checked this time; no fancy bathrooms. They asked for cash upfront which I thought was odd, but it was cheap so why not. How bad could it be?
Janet and I were next to each other with a curtain drawn between us. My masseuse began and the massage, while not the best I’ve had, was not bad. As she massaged my legs she brushed up against the important stuff – a few times. Not the first time this has happened in a massage but it became clear with the frequency that this was not an accident. Massage styles are different in different countries and I wondered what Janet was experiencing. But soon, as often happens in a massage, I went into that half sleep state with eyes closed. Finally for some reason I opened my eyes and the massage lady pressed her finger to her lips to signal that I should shush. OK now I knew what was really being offered. I thought it took a lot of guts (or balls lol) to make such an offer as I lay next to my wife. I made a face and shook my head and the massage proceeded normally.
Afterwards, Janet sensed something was wrong, especially since the massage ladies didn’t leave as we are used to. They hung around straightening up the area as we dressed. “What happened?” she asked. “I’ll tell you later,” I said. “Let’s just get out of here.”
We left quickly and there were no tips given. Janet described her massage as “the worst.” We got out of the place and within ten feet a guy approached me and pointed to my shoe which had a tear in it. Coincidentally, he had a shoe repair kit and began miming that he would fix the shoe. We both yelled at him to stop and scurried across the street. We got into a restaurant and examined my shoe, which had obviously been cut from within the massage place. And then I described my massage experience to Janet. I may be explaining to Janet for quite a while lol.
BTW, I should be clear that despite the levity and a few odd occurrences we had a great time! We studied Vietnamese cooking, and learned about Vietnamese coffee. We also had a French bakery next door to our condo. Life is good!