
My massage ladies
We learned our lesson yesterday and today took taxis frequently, given the heat and distances and price ($4-8 a ride). On a Sunday morning, we wandered around two more local markets where we seemed to be the only westerners, which is the way we like it. (The morning market at 287 Nguyen Dinh Chieu; Cho Tan Dinh market, 1 Nguyen Huu Cau St.)
It is astonishing to see how much commerce and activity there is here. On a Sunday, no less. Never seems to stop, except for a few holidays. Leo, our Vespa guide in Hoi An, works 28 days a month. With a few holidays. And despite taxes, people don’t get much help paying for kids education or health care, apparently.
I asked our taxi driver where everyone is going on their motorbikes, on a Sunday, no less, and he said with a laugh “I don’t know!” (Once we let him know that we were not Trump fans, he shared our disdain. He talked about how Trump went to Hanoi, in and out. Obama came to Saigon and explored, eating at various restaurants.)
After the markets, we went to an outdoor Vietnamese pancake restaurant (46 Dinh Cong Trang) down a little street near the famous Barbie-pink Catholic Church that our hotel owner Mr. Ha suggested. The Vietnamese pancakes look like a huge, lighter, crispier omelet, folded over and packed inside with sprouts and shrimp, served hot off the charcoal fire, with lettuce for wrapping and dipping sauce. We also had fantastic hot off the griddle fried soft shell crab. With a beer and water, it cost $14.
We wandered through a nearby park and sat on a park bench watching two groups of teenagers, boys and girls, practicing dance routines. They were pretty good. Not sure if this was exercise or practice for a performance. this music was sort of Vietnamese hip hop but at our hotel in Siem Reap, the playlist included our favorites like Regina Spector and an Afro pop song I have on my playlist.
Back to L’Usine for a refreshing coffee slush and then to a few shops nearby on Dong Khoi Street, where we bought more gifts – embroidered purses, t-shirts, a $5 silk tie for Dirck (how is that even possible?) and bracelets made from water buffalo horns. Things are crazy cheap. I’ve bought enough gifts for several holidays and birthdays.
Back at Ma Maison, our host arranged for me to have what turned out to be the best massage I’ve ever had. I had two women working on me for an hour, pretty much covered all the body parts except the private ones. Even were massaging my ears. Cost $12. I gave a tip although I gather it’s not expected. They seemed surprised.
Dinner was at Cuc Gach Quan, one of Saigon’s finest (Mr. Ha was impressed that I’d reserved a table there), in a relatively quiet and high-rent bit of District 3. It’s in a beautiful old home that the architect owner has transformed into a culinary oasis. You walk through an opening in a wall into a lush courtyard garden and into a country rustic building with contemporary art, old wood, an interior atrium with a tiled pond with a few koi swimming around. There are little dining areas on various levels and you have to bend your head to walk through the opening into some of them (one poor waiter forget to do this.) The food is based on the country fare of the architect owner’s grandmother. Standouts were homemade tofu sauteed in a chili and lemongrass sauce served with shreds of something (onion?) on top and fish stewed in a heavy clay pot. It was so moist and flavorful, a rare treat with fish. We tried the traditional sour soup but it was a bit too strange. Sorry to report that we have not eaten Pho during our trip, despite ample opportunity (our hotels serve it for breakfast). We just find it too hot and humid to have soup. (Vietnamese disagree.)
One thing that has struck me is that we’ve seen a lot of Asian 20- and 30-somethings at the more expensive, more cutting edge cuisine restaurants…lots of young foodies. Last night, I watched two 20-something Asian guys eat at Cuc Gach Quan and spend much of the meal looking at their respective cell phones. Cell phone use is ubiquitous — we’ve seen monks on their cell phones, motorbike riders, a rural villager with water buffalo and cell phone, an elderly woman on the bus. They also start their conversation with “hello.”

Sojourn Boutique Villas is apparently designed to help ameliorate some of the poverty by hiring local villagers. (Thx to my London friend Carole for recommending this place and other great suggestions in Vietnam, which I consulted frequently.) The women working at the hotel, who were incredibly sweet, are from the village and have worked at the resort for several years, we were told by a Chinese man who appeared to be the manager. Our tuk-tuk driver Bros lives in a nearby village, is 38, married and has an 11-year-old son. His wife works in a local supermarket and starts work at 5:30 a.m.



Our Hanoi street food guide Mark came thru again with fantastic dining recommendations, just in time. We were sitting in a very cool cafe called L’Usine, when his email arrived with suggestions including L’Usine (which I got from a NYT 36 hours story.)
We left at 4:30 a.m. to visit Angkor Wat at sunrise (this was recommended in Macu Picchu too.) wise idea. one of the men who picked us up in the van appears to be our designated tuk tuk driver, a very nice young guy named Bros. The tuk tuk also reminds us of the contraptions we traveled in in Peru but more pleasant. It’s basically a two wheeled open air carriage with a roof pulled by a motorcycle. Bros sorted out our Angkor Wat game plan which we much appreciated.

Words (or my words , after 6 hours of touring in heat, humidity with little sleep and initially no food) don’t do Angkor justice. There was a lot more to see but we had our fill after 6 hours.
We also had a few unexpected encounters with wild life. Dirck with a bee (no sting just a lot of buzzing) and me with a rather pushy monkey who started pulling on my trousers until I realized what was happening and shook him off. Several elephants with multiple riders atop shared the road with us. We returned about 2:30 pm to cool washcloths from the staff here, a light lunch (lemongrass shrimp skewers and a delicious salad of shredded banana leaves, other veg and slices of chicken in a tangy light sauce, a delicious mixed fruit drink.)
Then we had the pool to ourselves, mellow music, a cat or two, a few mosquitoes/flies (none in Vietnam) and one of the lovely women here brought us tall glasses of ice cold water, placing them poolside.







I would say this was among the best spent $89 (per person) on this trip: a five hour Vespa Adventures tour of the rural countryside outside Hoi An on the back of a spiffy Vespa driven by a young Vietnamese guide named “Leo.” Dirck’s driver was a young guy named Nine. Not only was it fun to join the crowd of motorbikes zipping through town and into the countryside. We didn’t worry about having to navigate on our own and Leo took us to some wonderful out of the way spots we never would have found — and patiently answered any question we wanted to ask a Vietnamese person. (We even talked about contraception which Leo credited with reducing family size after the year 2000 when the government launched a pr campaign about birth control and the need to have two babies tops.)
This afternoon I had a one hour massage and 1/2 hour facial at a little spa the hotel guy recommended. $30 total. And tonight after stopping for a swim at our resort pool, we ended up back at the Shamrock Pub, people watching at sunset and chatting with some Aussies. We had perhaps our most creative meal at Nu Eatery, a little hole in the wall that reminded me of the East village (NYC) restaurant Prune. The small place was packed with young foodies from the US, France, England and Asia. We had a killer version of bao (steamed bun) stuffed with a chunk of succulent pork, a pickle and a yellow sauce; a noodle dish with Spicy pork ragu (which seemed almost Italian) and a Bahn Minh that was more like a pulled pork sandwich on a brioche bun with melted cheese (the first melted cheese we’ve seen here.) Now we are savoring our last night in Hoi An, sitting on our ancient second floor wooden balcony, watching the crowd thin out. Tomorrow they will be out in force again.

As expected, staying at the 200-year-old Vinh Hung Heritage Hotel in the middle of the Ancient Town is a strange experience and completely different than our sweet little Halo Homestay.
We decided to go to Co Mai because I was curious about how a French chef would reinterpret Vietnamese food. The restaurant is also in one of the 200-year-old structures here and we sat on the second floor with the dark wood window open so we could see all the action below at a street market. 

In the morning we road our rickety Homestay bikes to the countryside and beach, this time choosing narrow concrete paths between the rice paddies and fish farms, encountering the occasional water buffalo or farmer. The scenes are an old/new world mashup – a farmer in a traditional pointed hat, squatting in the shade beside a water buffalo and talking on his cell phone; small villages with high rises in the distance near cui dai beach.

We moved on. It is very easy to fritter away hours here, wandering down atmospheric old streets lined with mustard-colored, dark wood and ceramic disc roofs. We are sitting on the second floor balcony of one of the most famous, the 200 year old Vinh Hung
This morning, the street was a little quieter, which is apparently prime time for couples to pose for photos, often in elegant outfits. We made it through the night without too much noise. Our room is very dark but well air conditioned and a good mattress. I am pretty sure I felt a mouse (hoping it was a mouse) scurry down the wood hall leading to this balcony. Oh well, kind of like home.
We had a nice where-have -you-been chat with a well traveled Kent, Australia couple who were lounging in the sun next to us. They also mentioned there was torrential rain in a Hoi An for the 3 days before we arrived so we got lucky. It seems to rain once a day briefly and intensely. By the time we have gotten our raincoats out and on, it stops and we are even hotter. We got about waist deep in the crashing waves (the water is almost too warm) but I didn’t want to get my eat wet, which is on the mend thx to my antibiotics regimen.
This afternoon we peddled into Hoi An and found one of the fantastic street vendors our Hanoi food guide Mark recommended. Mark knows his stuff and it has been such a treat to know which of the many street food vendors are best. We sat on plastic stools at a very busy street food stand and had superb
We wandered to the less crowded and classier part of the ancient town, at the eastern end to visit Precious Heritage Museum, a remarkable place and effort by a French photographer who has made it his life’s work to photograph people from Vietnam’s many ethnic minorities and collect an authentic costume from each, which are on display. The photos are for sale, with proceeds going to the museum and some of the people photographed. Amazing.
Our first internal flight in Vietnam, a quick and cheap Vietjet flight from Hanoi to Hue, was surprisingly pleasant. We left and arrived on time. Our small luggage was too heavy to carry on so we had to check it– at no extra cost, which was surprising. (Other budget airlines really stick it to you for this.) The plane was easy in and out (with two entrances/ exits) and it cost $94 for the two of us.
Hue instantly felt different than Hanoi. Lively but not as chaotic, mellower, with wide boulevards lined with grassy parks dotted with sculpture along the narrow river; and what looked like government buildings. And of course the grand Imperial compound called The Citadel, which has a huge imposing stone wall enclosure.
We had an excellent grilled pork (Bun thit) at a place Mark, our Hanoi street tour guide, recommended and some stranger fare at Hanh restaurant for dinner.