From Nha Trang, we caught an early morning flight to Saigon, caught a quick taxi from the airport and checked into our hotel, eager to see what the city had to offer. Though the official name is now Ho Chi Minh City, locals will still call it Saigon, and for no particular reason, I like the name Saigon better so that's what I call it. We checked into our hotel and hit the streets.
It's always interesting to take in the look and feel of a new city and see how it matched up to your expectations. If Hanoi is like San Francisco, then I would say L.A. would be the closest thing to Saigon's California equivalent. Much more spread out, not as visually appealing, but still a ton of stuff going on, some good history, and cool sights to see. Pretty much what I was expecting going into it. We walked around for a while and ended up at the War Remnants Museum, a museum showing all aspects of the Vietnam/American war, from the Vietnamese perspective of course. It's very interesting to see that point of view because it is so different from anything we in America have learned or have heard. However, being there, it's hard not to take their perspective to heart, and it makes you think about what the truth of everything really is and was.
From tanks, to testimonies, to clothing, to pictures, they had it all. My favorite part of the whole thing, was an expo of work from photographers that had died in the war. American, Vietnamese, French, etc., there were about eighteen photographers' photos that were shown, and it was intense, showing images and aspects never seen before to most. We were both happy we went to the museum, but it was very surreal and you definitely leave with a weird, inexplicable shitty feeling.
Once again we met up with our buds from Ha Long Bay, and the next day visited the Cu Chi tunnels. A vast network of underground tunnels, around 70km in total length, that were used by the North Vietnamese to help hide and fight against the Americans during the war. Among the many things to see and do here, you are invited to go down into the tunnels and "walk" through them. Before taking the plunge into the tunnels they ask you, "do you want to go 20m, 30m, or 60m?", with each distance descending deeper below ground. Well all of us being the courageous adventurers we are, all said without hesitation, "60!". All of sudden this little Vietnamese dude dressed in a Vietcong outfit says, "60! Ok here we go!!", and with flashlight in hand, dives head first into this tunnel. Now, I don't know what I was expecting out of these tunnels, but for some stupid reason, I did think they would be decent sized tunnels that you could at least WALK through with some room to move around. Not the case. These tunnels provided just enough space that you could just manage to walk on your two feet with your back bent over before having to drop down to your hands and knees. It was f'n freaky. I was the first one in, and instantly my heart starts pounding, I hear Brooke with panic in her voice say "we can just do 20 right!?", and behind her, Brice goes, "oh shit man, this sucks!". Frantically, I scurry through the 20 meters, finally see the light coming from above, as well as the even smaller entrance to the next leg of the tunnels, and without hesitation hang the left up the ladder to get to the HELL outa there. The thought of having to go deeper into that godforsaken squirrel hole of a f'n tunnel sent shivers down my spine and nearly sent my heart beating out of my chest. Maybe I'm just a big wuss, but that was by far the most claustrophobic I've ever felt in my life. The craziest part is, the tunnels we went through were the ones they made bigger for foreigners. The Vietnamese tourists have there own section of the tunnels where they have been kept the original size. F'n insane. If I go to hell for all the squirrels I've annihilated on the ranch, I now know what my destiny holds.
After the tunnels, we bid adieu to our friends Brice and Justina, and sent them on their way back to the states. Our buddy Ryan, however, decided to switch his flight and stay one more night. Unfortunately Ryan did not get to experience the magic of a proper bia hoi in Hanoi, so we knew that we had to get him properly bia hoi experienced before leaving the country. And as only luck would have it, one of the few bia hoi's in Saigon was located directly next door to our hotel. Destiny my friends.
Ryan, Brooke, and myself, walk through the small doors of Bia Hoi Saigon, expecting a small room with a few people, and found ourselves in a room the size of a lecture hall filled to the brim with bia hoi consumers. We wade through the sea of peanut shells, egg shells, chunks of ice, and Vietnamese drinkers in small plastic chairs, to the one small open table in the entire place. It was dingy, noisy, smelled a hint of stale beer, ladies running around eager to fill you glass, it was the perfect depiction of a local bia hoi and exactly what I wanted Ryan to see.
Although this bia hoi was very similar to those in Hanoi, there was one main difference. Instead of having kegs delivered daily, this place had a big ceramic vat in the middle of the room where they brewed their beer. They then pumped the beer strait from the vat and into plastic bottles, capped them off, stuck them in ice to cool, and within minutes were placed on your table for consumption. Like I said, the place was pretty dirty, there was an AC unit hanging over the vats of beer, who knows how sanitary this process was, but the people were drinking it and at 50 cents / liter, it's the best deal going. Being the only white people in the entire place, all of the buzzed Vietnamese people wanted to speak to us in their broken English, we were given bites to eat, many glasses were raised to us and from us, and once again we were treated like guests of honor in a place we didn't have much business hanging out in. Ryan and I ended up being invited over to a table of guys (Brooke had left at this point), and ended up having a great time with them trying to communicate in broken English and body language, they were hilarious. After all was said and done, after all the beers and little snacks consumed, we walked away not paying a dime. We insisted we pay or at least pay some, but they would have none of it. You want an authentic experience where you are treated like a movie star? Go to a local bia hoi.
Motorbike tour and Dare #3
The last thing we did in Saigon, was go on a motorbike tour of the city at night, where I was able to complete a dare given by my brother Sky, and his buddies Weber and Mueller. They wanted to get me to eat the gnarliest thing I could, so what did they find? A fertilized duck egg that has been plucked from the mama duck after the fetus begins to form. A fetal duck egg, better known as a Belut, a popular delicacy in Vietnam.
In the midst of our tour, my lady pulled over to a little shady stand in the middle of a dark road, walked up to it and bought me what looked to be a plain, larger sized chicken egg. The contents of that egg however, were QUITE different. The next restaurant we stopped at, it was on. She had bought one for herself, to show me how it's done, one for me, as well as a fetal quail egg for good measure. She cracked open the top of the egg, and there it was, a yellow and white, veiny looking slimy thing that pretty much looked like a big testicle. You could see the formations of what would soon become the feathers and beak too, it was pretty gross looking. There was no turning back at this point though, so I sank my spoon into the yellow goo looking thing and took my first bite. I ended up eating it in three bites, the consistency being that of a thicker, meatier hard boiled egg with a little bit more sulfur flavor added to the mix. Three bites and out, Brettski 1, Belut 0. Thanks for the dare boys, it was a good one.
The tour itself was by far the coolest and funnest thing we've done on our entire trip. Vietnamese women on a motorbikes come pick you up at your hotel and basically bring you all around Saigon at night, taking you to local late night eateries, different districts of the town, and show you things that no other tourist would normally get to see. It was amazing and I'll let the pictures do the talking.
