Over the border into Vietnam.
Having spent 2 weeks in Cambodia, it was time to move on. We had considered flying to Ho Chi Minh City (Saigon to everyone here), but decided to go overland as we had agreed a good deal. The deal was very clear, we would be driven to the border in a minibus, meet a Vietnamese driver and minibus, transfer our baggage to a new minibus and continue on our journey to Ho Chi Minh. Simple.
Unfortunately, we have travel guides. These books are generally very good but we have noticed that they tend to exaggerate negatives. Our books describe great difficulties in crossing overland borders involving unscrupulous financial transactions (bribes to you and me), men having to offer cigarettes to the male guards and waiting for hours before being waved through. They pretty much say that you can only get to Vietnam by flying unless you specified ‘land entry’ when applying for your visa. We had no such entry specified. In fact we had not talked about any form of entry (well not in public anyway!).
Due to a number of factors, namely adventure and experience, but probably with a bit of Yorkshire prudence thrown in (well the journey overland cost only $5 more per head than the airport departure tax…that’s without the cost of the flight) and the fact that our hotel manager explained that he would sort it all out, including the bribes, we took the scary option!
The journey to the border took us through countryside very similar to that previously described, although the quality of the road was so poor we could not travel very quickly. We also had the excitement of a car ferry across the Mekong, which was reminiscent of the Woolwich ferry, the Mekong being slightly wider. The excitement did include being hassled whilst in the queue by people selling everything, very assertively. This caused a bit of concern by some people in our van and a bit of amusement from Simon, Emma and Joe. Joe managed to buy a pair of designer Adidas sunglasses for a whopping $1, bartered down from $5…..quality! Choosing not to buy any food, we travelled on (though I do now have a taste for deep fried bugs).
Reaching the Vietnamese border, the fun commenced. We arrived at customs and emptied our minibus, the cases being whisked away onto mopeds and driven off. We were guided to passport control as we watched our cases disappear, some of us panicking and wondering whether we would see them again!
Passport control was a breeze, we only needed to complete about 10 forms each and pay 1000 Riel each (about 25 US cents - and we still do not know for what). But no departure tax (that’s $20 each saved)! We went through the x-ray machines and came out the other side after being through only 6 officials each, fairly unscathed until Jo decided to buy herself a litre of vodka. 6 photocopies of passport, forms completed and 45 minutes later Jo emerged (after scrounging $20 from me because she had stuffed her money down her bra to prevent her from having to pay bribes(???!!)), we were in Vietnam.
Waiting for us were our cases, loaded precariously onto a variety of mopeds. There were in fact many mopeds and absolutely no nice, large, air conditioned mini buses. 3 gesticulating Vietnamese men communicated adequately enough for us to realise that we needed to climb aboard with our (very large) suitcases, hand baggage, computer and camera bag. So there we were then, Emma and Anna on one, Jo on another (with a case), me on the next (hand luggage, pute and hands full of water bottles) all screeching off down what appeared to be a long and dusty runway leaving. As far as I was concerned, we had left Joe behind mounting another bike. Racing (apparently) down this dusty road, dodging the odd runaway cow, we arrived at a little shack….still no van. I dismounted and looked behind for Joe who arrived grinning wider than a proverbial Cheshire cat and looking seriously cool with his windswept golden locks and expensive looking shades with Emma shouting behind me, ‘we won the race’.
Gathered together again, a large taxi appeared. Having placed all of our luggage and all of us inside (no mean feat I can tell you) a group of Vietnamese stood outside the cab arguing, one approached me asking for money for the ride from the border to Saigon. I assertively informed them that we had paid for this in Phnom Penh whilst thinking ‘if this is all we have to pay extra, it is still cheaper than flying,’ they did however accept my assertion and off we went to finish our journey to HCMC.
Our initial reaction to Vietnam was that there appeared to be much less poverty, there was more electricity, the road smoother, more hi tech, ‘proper’ houses and there were millions and millions of scooters! These reactions continued to be validated. HCMC is a much more developed city very similar to pictures I have seen of modern East Asian cities such as Singapore. All the normal neon lights and electronic company names were in abundance. Anna breathed a sigh of relief. We all stared amazed at the distant smog and the rows and rows of bikes waiting for the traffic lights to turn green. HCMC is busy, very busy, and very hot, but remains ordered and somehow polite.
Our first targeted hotel was The Grand, fully booked, we moved onto the much less grand Linh hotel, which was absolutely fine. Checked in, flaked out on the bed, we sighed with satisfaction at the realisation that we had completed a difficult journey with relative ease. Trust your locals, not your travel guide!
Simon
The hotel was fine, and we were grateful for a bed, worried that there may have been a lack of vacancies in this bustling city. Jo and Anna chose the 5th floor, thinking there was a lift – unfortunately this was not the case, but their calf muscles are now highly developed, not to mention the poor porter who ran up the stairs with our cases on his shoulders, to our relief not all at once!
We were tired and hungry so headed out into HCMC. It was bizarre that even though we only knew a few Cambodian words, we did not even know the Vietnamese for ‘thank you’ We ended up having a mediocre Thai meal, and then went for coffee and cake at a coffee shop. How civilised is that!! Think we were all in bed by about 9pm, tired and happy.
Emma
Unfortunately, we have travel guides. These books are generally very good but we have noticed that they tend to exaggerate negatives. Our books describe great difficulties in crossing overland borders involving unscrupulous financial transactions (bribes to you and me), men having to offer cigarettes to the male guards and waiting for hours before being waved through. They pretty much say that you can only get to Vietnam by flying unless you specified ‘land entry’ when applying for your visa. We had no such entry specified. In fact we had not talked about any form of entry (well not in public anyway!).
Due to a number of factors, namely adventure and experience, but probably with a bit of Yorkshire prudence thrown in (well the journey overland cost only $5 more per head than the airport departure tax…that’s without the cost of the flight) and the fact that our hotel manager explained that he would sort it all out, including the bribes, we took the scary option!
The journey to the border took us through countryside very similar to that previously described, although the quality of the road was so poor we could not travel very quickly. We also had the excitement of a car ferry across the Mekong, which was reminiscent of the Woolwich ferry, the Mekong being slightly wider. The excitement did include being hassled whilst in the queue by people selling everything, very assertively. This caused a bit of concern by some people in our van and a bit of amusement from Simon, Emma and Joe. Joe managed to buy a pair of designer Adidas sunglasses for a whopping $1, bartered down from $5…..quality! Choosing not to buy any food, we travelled on (though I do now have a taste for deep fried bugs).
Reaching the Vietnamese border, the fun commenced. We arrived at customs and emptied our minibus, the cases being whisked away onto mopeds and driven off. We were guided to passport control as we watched our cases disappear, some of us panicking and wondering whether we would see them again!
Passport control was a breeze, we only needed to complete about 10 forms each and pay 1000 Riel each (about 25 US cents - and we still do not know for what). But no departure tax (that’s $20 each saved)! We went through the x-ray machines and came out the other side after being through only 6 officials each, fairly unscathed until Jo decided to buy herself a litre of vodka. 6 photocopies of passport, forms completed and 45 minutes later Jo emerged (after scrounging $20 from me because she had stuffed her money down her bra to prevent her from having to pay bribes(???!!)), we were in Vietnam.
Waiting for us were our cases, loaded precariously onto a variety of mopeds. There were in fact many mopeds and absolutely no nice, large, air conditioned mini buses. 3 gesticulating Vietnamese men communicated adequately enough for us to realise that we needed to climb aboard with our (very large) suitcases, hand baggage, computer and camera bag. So there we were then, Emma and Anna on one, Jo on another (with a case), me on the next (hand luggage, pute and hands full of water bottles) all screeching off down what appeared to be a long and dusty runway leaving. As far as I was concerned, we had left Joe behind mounting another bike. Racing (apparently) down this dusty road, dodging the odd runaway cow, we arrived at a little shack….still no van. I dismounted and looked behind for Joe who arrived grinning wider than a proverbial Cheshire cat and looking seriously cool with his windswept golden locks and expensive looking shades with Emma shouting behind me, ‘we won the race’.
Gathered together again, a large taxi appeared. Having placed all of our luggage and all of us inside (no mean feat I can tell you) a group of Vietnamese stood outside the cab arguing, one approached me asking for money for the ride from the border to Saigon. I assertively informed them that we had paid for this in Phnom Penh whilst thinking ‘if this is all we have to pay extra, it is still cheaper than flying,’ they did however accept my assertion and off we went to finish our journey to HCMC.
Our initial reaction to Vietnam was that there appeared to be much less poverty, there was more electricity, the road smoother, more hi tech, ‘proper’ houses and there were millions and millions of scooters! These reactions continued to be validated. HCMC is a much more developed city very similar to pictures I have seen of modern East Asian cities such as Singapore. All the normal neon lights and electronic company names were in abundance. Anna breathed a sigh of relief. We all stared amazed at the distant smog and the rows and rows of bikes waiting for the traffic lights to turn green. HCMC is busy, very busy, and very hot, but remains ordered and somehow polite.
Our first targeted hotel was The Grand, fully booked, we moved onto the much less grand Linh hotel, which was absolutely fine. Checked in, flaked out on the bed, we sighed with satisfaction at the realisation that we had completed a difficult journey with relative ease. Trust your locals, not your travel guide!
Simon
The hotel was fine, and we were grateful for a bed, worried that there may have been a lack of vacancies in this bustling city. Jo and Anna chose the 5th floor, thinking there was a lift – unfortunately this was not the case, but their calf muscles are now highly developed, not to mention the poor porter who ran up the stairs with our cases on his shoulders, to our relief not all at once!
We were tired and hungry so headed out into HCMC. It was bizarre that even though we only knew a few Cambodian words, we did not even know the Vietnamese for ‘thank you’ We ended up having a mediocre Thai meal, and then went for coffee and cake at a coffee shop. How civilised is that!! Think we were all in bed by about 9pm, tired and happy.
Emma
posted by Lowes abroad at 10:27 am
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