It’s not ALL war and food and homelessness – though there’s been a lot of all that.We have also had a few weeks of honeymooning.Or as much honeymooning as we could fit in between urgent, um, comfort stops.
We spent most of the first day of our honeymoon getting pissed in the lobby of the Sheraton in Nha Trang while we waited for our ride....To Paradise Resort!
That is the determined yet confused expression of a man
trying to suck tequila up a swizzler stick.
The car ride to Paradise Resort took 55 mins in driving time and at least 7 months of life-expectancy.
How to summarise Paradise Resort in one sentence?
Think of it as the bastard love-grandchild of Basil Fawlty, Hi-De-Hi, Ramsay’s Kitchen Nightmares and Germany’s next top model, under the management of Obelix.
Oh, look! It's beautiful!
We had beach bungalows, and swimming in the waves.I had the topology of my right breast thoroughly surveyed by a drunk local.The server girl, who also seemed to do all the cooking and all the cleaning and all the communication with guests was deaf – and her deafness was more useful than anything else – she was the easiest to communicate with non-Anglophone Vietnamese I have dealt with yet. We gave her D100,000 ($5) when we left and she nearly gave birth to a chicken she was that chuffed.
Just before we left we got a sniggering shot of the fridge in the kitchen of the Paradise Resort Kitchen:
Martin tells everyone that I was looking at him as if he was a barbarian. My perspective on this is that barbaric actions warrant dirty looks.
These two little kittens have lost their earmuffs.
Mittens: still intact.
But, my how the Vietnamese are proud of winning the war! This whole country is pasted with reminders of the American War, but the attitude is not the same as the 'lest we forget' pacifist sentimentalities that are expressed on the WWI and WWII war memorials that are scattered all over New Zealand. It's more a 'lest you forget' sentiment. More a 'we'll kick your ass all over again' kind of sentiment.
I remarked to Martin at one point that Ho Chi Minh had a few qualities in common with Ghandi – he was fiercely dedicated to his country, and to unifying his country. He stood for the common man and the peasants, valuing those at the bottom as much as those at the top. A working class hero, Ho Chi Minh famously wore the same sandals that the commonest peasants wore – fashioned from old tires. But as Martin pointed out he also had some extremely un-Ghandi-like qualities – Ho Chi Minh would never have sat down when he could have had a scrap instead.
Don't worry: if the Americans invade again, Martin knows just what to do.
We went for a day trip to the Cu Chi Tunnels – one of the tunnel systems famously constructed by the VietCong during the war. The area where these tunnels were constructed was jungle, and the earth they are dug out of is hard clay and sand. You can find out more about the tunnel systems here - but I'll spare you a history lesson.
The site at Cu Chi is really very good. It is managed by the government, and very well maintained. You really notice the government influence on the site in two ways:
When you arrive, the first stop on the guided tour is a compulsory propaganda film screening:
There are a few food stalls and a restaurant area and the prices are not inflated at all, and there are no hawkers at the site. This is common for the tourist attractions that are government managed – the government actually does a very good job of ensuring that the tourists don't get ripped off. In fact, I think they should probably, for their own sakes to less of a good job. At the government owned attractions like the tunnels and the zoo and the museums, the ticket prices are ridiculously cheap – the most we have paid to go anywhere was around 80,000 dong, or USD $4. I think they could charge a bit more and use the revenue to maintain some of the sites.
The paths are cleared and well maintained, and because it is jungle the area is well-shaded, so even in the heat it is quite pleasant to walk around.
There is a spectacular demonstration of booby-traps that were laid in the ground. The strategy seemed to be to take them out one man at a time. From what I can tell, the strategy worked pretty well, though it must have been gruesome.
The folding chair trap.
Imagine that the bamboo pole sticking out of the top
right corner is an American Devil leg.
And then there are the tunnels themselves. They are impossibly small and horrible. It's not like wandering around on North Head with a flashlight hoping to discover a secret stash of Spitfires. A small section of tunnels has been preserved for the sake of the tourists. It is 100m long, and has been widened enough so that someone my size can get through on hands and knees. There are exits every 20m and we took the first exit, along with almost all of the rest of the tour group. It was really horrible being in the tunnel even only for a couple of minutes, and I can't really fathom the desperation that would have led the soldiers that worked in the area think that these tunnels were a good defensive option. You expect tunnels to be cold and clammy, but these were hot and the walls seemed heavy, with what little air there was sticking to the sides of your lungs like a phlegmy soup. The people of Cu Chi starved during the war, and at the tunnels they demonstrate this by feeding the tourists boiled tapioca and crushed peanuts mixed with salt – the staple food at a time when there was no reliable agriculture in this fertile land. Food that could be gathered from the forest.
Even our camera lost focus when presented with
tapicoa and crushed peanuts for lunch.
The firing range felt kind of sick to me. Barbaric. Lest we forget.
Great big bloody pile of spent shells at the firing range.
We said from the beginning that we were coming here for the food. And we have eaten of the food, and found that it was good.
Vietnam is such a lush, rich, fertile country. It is difficult to believe that this country was crippled by famine in the 1980s because the country is so alive. Everything is growing. When you drive through the countyside, it seems as if they crops are all growing faster than they could possibly be harvested. Little plants shoot up through every crack in every pavements, and wall, and roof. And we have certainly seen no evidence of famine now. Though I am sure there are people in this country who are starving, it is economic starvation – due to a lack of distribution and not to a lack of abundance.
So, there is food everywhere you look. And Vietnamese people understand flavor. Vietnamese people are not going to settle for soggy chips and over-boiled vegetables.
Let's start with the sauces. At every table there is a little jug with fish sauce, and usually jars or bottles of soy sauce and chili sauce. The more expensive cafes and restaurants will have their own sauces, and the cheaper ones will have bottles of stuff you could buy in a supermarket. There is sometimes salt and pepper at the table as well, if they are expecting foreigners, but not always. Salt is a problem in this climate – it is hot and damp and the salt always clogs up in the salt shakers.
When it comes to dipping sauces, one is NEVER enough!
Usually at the table you will also be given a moist wipe for cleaning your hands. Vietnamese food is often intended to be eaten with fingers. In a more expensive establishment you sometimes get a real facecloth, which is folded nicely and moistened and chilled.
Unlike in NZ, water is not always given at the table, and I have occasionally had the server look at me like was a nut case for requesting water. Ice is not a concern – most restaurants buy ice that is made from filtered water and is perfectly safe to drink. Quite often they serve sweet iced green tea for free, in the same way that NZ restaurants would give you a glass of tap water.
The food that we have eaten the most regularly has to be spring rolls – in various forms. Fresh, thick rolls filled with rice noodles and fresh herbs and slices of pork, or prawns, dipped in sweet chilli and vinegar based sauces. Smaller, deep fried spring rolls filled with minced beef or vegetables. Do-it-yourself, deconstructed spring rolls – where you are served with a plate of herbs and meat or fish and crispy circles of rice paper the soften as you dip them in the fresh sauces they are served with.
Spring rolls from Hoi An -
we went back to this cafe 3 times!
And then there is the noodle soup. Martin is beginning to fall in love with pho. It starts off so simple, a bowl of rice noodles and broth, with a few slices of beef. But then on another plate you are given a fat pile of herbs – usually basil and mint and mung beans, and other things I don't know the names off. And a few slices of chili. And wedges of lime to squeeze in. And then the sauces – fish sauce, and soy sauce, and chili sauce if you want it to bite. Then you add as much or as little of the herbs and spices and sauces, and push it all under the broth with your chopstick and spoon and let the flavours infuse. Martin is always impatient with this step, wanting to eat it straight away, but it's worth taking it slowly and letting the flavours mature in the broth.
And don't forget the salads – my favourite. Tart and fresh long shredded strips of green mango and papaya, mixed with lime juice and mint and dried shrimps. Fish sauce and chilli and sugar. And beautiful fresh seafood tossed through it. Served with thick slices of cucumber to cleanse and cool the palate.
