CAMARGUE

Our last night in Saigon. We wanted to go somewhere swish for dinner. Having been turned away at Lemongrass the night before because we had no reservation, we got our hotel receptionist to book a table at Camargue, a French fusion restaurant. "She speak English," the receptionist said, after struggling on the phone. So I took over and choped our table with the Amercican-sounding voice.

It was walking distance from the hotel, past Q Bar, in a small lane. Aargh, colonial mansion again. Ergo, no aircon. And not as breezy as Quan An Ngon. Fans here simply circulated the warm air about. We skipped the wine - didn't need to generate more heat!

But the food was goooooood. We shared appetiser and dessert, but had two mains, which we swopped after we'd eaten half. The samosa pastry was delicately flaky and crumbled away as we sank our teeth into it. It was chockful of duck.
We liked the tuna tartare, but the grilled tuna was so-so and tough. The tenderloin and foie gras were yummy. All the dishes came with a stiff sprig of spring onion or some other herb jabbed into the food. Careful you don't go too close or you'd get stabbed in the eye! I got to choose dessert, so no chocolate, just tarty, tangy lemon tart.

TO MARKET, TO MARKET

My next to last entry on the 2½ days we spent in Saigon. These are some shots taken at Ben Tanh market in the more touristy area. I wanted embroidered toilet-roll holders but there were none - just lots of tablecloths, cushions covers. We were pleased we got our coffee from Trung Nguyen because it was twice the price here. Many souvenir shops also sell snake wine, with a real snake sitting in the bottle. Did I try it? Not on your life! At the supermarket at Parkson, we squirmed over the deli counter - prawns and crabs swimming in strange gravies. Hmmm... Instead, we bought peeled pomelo and tangerines that you pop in your mouth, skin and all. Very sweet.

QUAN AN NGON

All the guidebooks raved about this place and we just had to visit it. I'd imagined it to be a grotty hole in the wall in a rundown colonial building - like a hot airless kopitiam with many foodstalls . But it was far from that. We had just come from Sunday mass at the Notre Dame and a short hop to the General Post Office building and wanted to see if we could visit the Presidential Palace before heading to Quan An Ngon for lunch. The palace was closed and as we walked, we didn't realise we had reached GZ. We just thought, "My, what a happening place."

It was like a food court in a colonial building. Or a Straits Kitchen, but 20 times cheaper. There are waiters to take your order and bring the food to your table. The menu was extensive. Just that one page in the picture above has so many different types of bee hoon on offer. (10,000 dong to Sing $1.)
We recce'd all the food stalls and still stuck to old favourites - ban xeo, a crispy kind of crepe stuffed with sum chum bak and taugeh (I carefully plucked them all out, of course); pho bo; salad. We regretted ordering the salad because everything on the menu seems to be accompanied by a plate of raw greens - basil, mint, lettuce and other mysterious veggies. It appears that shellfish is a hot favourite - topshells, cockles, mussels, every table had one shellfish dish. Every table except ours!

And stealing peeks at a table next to ours, we watched a woman use the funny spray of leaves that came with the greens like a paintbrush. She brushed the rice paper roll with with the hot sweet and sour sauce before plonking in the fillings and rolling it like popiah.
Wish we had another day in HCMC. We'd have returned to try other things we didn't order the first time round. Definitely worth several visits. Cheap and good.

CHINATOWN PILGRIMAGE

There's one place where East doesn't meet West - Chinatown. I just don't see what is so fascinating about a chaotic place where wares spill out onto pavements and roads, where people spit and blow out their snot, flicking it onto the ground, where the sour smell of preserved veggies and mouldy herbs assail your nostrils, where you have to elbow your way through shoulder-to-shoulder crowds and not get where you want to go. And when you seen one temple, you've seen them all. Transplant the whole scenario into Vietnam's no-system traffic and you get a massive headache.

Being just a month shy of Chinese New Year, red and gold decorations were out in full force. No nice aircon comfort shopping here, save for the new An Dong centre, which is a block down from the old market. They reminded me of People's Park - old and new. Except on the floor where clothes are sold, the aisles were completely blocked with cartons and cartons of clothes when we were there. And people still managed to push their way through. How they picked their clothes, I don't know. There was no space for a changing corner even!

Down in the basement, where the market proper and food stalls are, we snagged some stainless steel coffee drippers - the stall-holder had a sudden inspiration to dig up some item with magnet to show that they were made of stainless steel! They were $1.75 each after bargaining. We walked and walked and walked, dodging errant motorbikes and inhaling traffic fumes. HB bought a pair of spectacle frames. I was tempted to get sunglasses until I realised a few different brands carried the same designs! And I don't think ang moh heads were small enough for the shades to slide over.

A few hundred metres shy of Bin Tay market, I threw in the towel. "Interesting architecture" or not, I couldn't take the din and the pollution anymore. We flagged a cab to get to Equatorial Hotel, for a virtual cache, and then took another cab to touristy Dong Khoi and its air-conditioned shopping centres and cafes.

HOMETOWN CHINATOWN

But now home, here we were once more in Chinatown. It's an annual thing - being squashed in the crowds, rubbing our bare arms against sweaty bodies, getting our toes trod on, keeping our bags close to us to deter pickpockets, hopefully picking up knick-knacks for the home, whipping out our cameras when we spot anything interesting.

But aargh! My camera ran out of battery - again!!! I think that's the flaw of the 400D - a battery that doesn't last long. Lent my Ixus to HB, who did not have a camera with her, so my Nokia had a full-fledged run. Alas, I'd set it on lowest resolution and didn't want to stand about fiddling with the phone.

We even went to old People's Park - to buy toiletries. They can be up to $2 cheaper each than at Watson's or Guardian. But we kept going round and round the place to compare prices. We were pooped, hot and bothered. Dinner had to be some place far from the madding crowd, but near enough to get to.

And so, on to Pagi Sore at Far East Square...
It's our favourite Indonesian restaurant. It started out as a little place at Duxton Hill behind where I used to work. I'd often pack lunch of ayam panggang and rice (those were the days when I could indulge and not bulge). Good food always finds a crowd and the little place became too little for the hungry masses. They moved, I didn't know where. Till a few years ago...
The ayam panggang is still good. But the must-order is the ikan otah kukus - fish cooked in otah-type rempah. Very nice. We topped it off with rich avocado and gula melaka drink. Yummmmmms....

HOO CHI CU CHI TUNNELS

OK, the tunnels aren't warm and fuzzy as the post's title suggests. This is the setting for many movies on the Vietnam War, the Tet Offensive, where bumbling GIs die in the most horrific ways in booby traps, where demure-looking Viet girls keep machine guns under their conical hats and nasty Vietcong guerillas pop out from nowhere to take down unsuspecting Americans. All from the perspective of American film directors.

After paying for entry to Cu Chi Tunnels, we were led to what looked like a classroom. A small TV sits in a scratched wooden console cabinet. Next to it is a cross-section of what the tunnels looked like. The video, in black and white, was an eye-opener. It's the Vietcong take on the war on their turf. Military anthems play in the background as propaganda outtakes from the 1960s laud the valiant Viets for driving out the evil Americans. There were snippets of guerillas being sent off to battle by samfoo-clad girls doing traditional dances, how villagers rallied to feed and keep up the morale of the fighters, of female freedom fighters. Of how everyone laboured to salvage bomb parts and recycle them into new weaponry. Several Vietcongs were cited for being brave "American killer heroes". I kept looking about to see how the audience reacted to the show, but many were just poker-faced. No Americans in the group, I believe.

HB tried out one of the hidden tunnel entrances just for size. A Japanese man had gone in just before her. She slipped in easily enough but needed help to be hauled out. Need to work on those triceps, ya?

The camouflage was so good, you'd never know you were walking over a trap door. It's no wonder the Vietcongs could pop up in the jungle and then disappear in a flash. Wonder who swept the leaves over when they shut the door. The spikes, many made from the shells of fallen bombs, look vicious. The booby traps looked like they belonged in the dungeon of a psycho. Hidden trap doors that swing open when weight falls on it, dropping the victim into a pit of spikes; swinging spiked coconuts, doors booby-trapped with, yes, spikes that come careering at you when the door is pushed open. Very primitive weapons, but very ingenious.
The Vietcongs can become role models for today's greenies of the world. They recycle everything. Tyres of abandoned jeeps are even used to make footwear.

For US$1 a round, we could fire the guns used by the guerillas. So we did - we split the minimum 10 rounds and tried out the AK-47. HB, not having experienced a recoil before, was sore in her shoulders. But we couldn't see how we did as there were no removable target sheets. The only feedback I got from the man who was at the post was that I was aiming too high.


I was dressed in clothes that I was hoping to toss after reading logs by other geocachers about crawling in the tunnels. Alas, being in a tour group, we weren't given much time to explore and we simply followed behind the backsides of those in front. They surfaced, we surfaced. Then I saw some fellas at another exit. Damn! We could have gone on further. And clothes were still too clean to be thrown away!

I can't imagine the Viets traversing the tunnels and living in them day after day. It was supposed to be an underground village, with kitchens and workshops and all. Some exits lead right into the Mekong for a quick escape from the enemies.We ended off in a tent where we were offered tapioca with crushed peanuts, staple food of the underground dwellers. Just a snack to us. Cu Chi is just 30-plus km from Saigon, but it took 1 and half hours to reach town. We were back at about 8pm. The Viets sure drive at a leisurely pace!

O COME ALL YE FAITHFUL

45 minutes - that was all we had at Tay Ninh after a 3-hour bus ride from HCMC, with a break at the handicraft factory. Sigh, so coach tour-like! In any case, HB and I overstayed - I kept thinking our guide Tam said return to the bus at 12.45pm. Tay Ninh, a town near the Cambodian border, is the site of Cao Dai's Holy See. What's that? Read on...Like a diner at a buffet table who gets to pick the best of the spread, Cao Dai is an amalgam of what is believed are the best of the world's religions, many of which constitute the Second Wave of Revelation. Cao Dai, disciples say, is the Third Wave. It borrows from Buddhism, Taoism, Catholicism, Hinduism, Islam and even the teachings of Chinese philosophers like Lao Tze and Confucius. Believe it or not, the religion is already more than 80 years old (it started in 1926) and is the third largest in Vietnam today!

But from our short visit, we concluded that it has a more Chinese slant. The photo at the top shows images of the various "prophets" - you can recognise who they are. Their likenesses sit above the altar of the Holy See. In the front, is a painting of its Three Saints - Sun Yat-Sen, Victor Hugo (!!!) and Nguyen Binh Khiem - signing a covenant between God and man. Oh, and Cao Dai followers communicate with the spirits using a Ouija Board, apparently. Didn't see those around, though.
God is represented as the Divine Eye. In the main hall of the cathedral is a huge globe with an image of this all-seeing eye. The eye is also the central motif in the ornate latticed windows. An old woman on the viewing balcony tried to explain to a German tourist what the eye was about by pointing to a currency note she pulled out but the German couldn't understand her. So, I (having read ahead in the guidebooks) pulled out a US dollar note and showed her. Yes, the Divine Eye looks just like the one on the reverse side of the almighty dollar! (I can't help but think that the cathedral is called the Holy See not because it borrows the term from the Catholics (meaning its governing body) but because of the Divine Eye!

Disciples wear robes of red, blue or yellow, depending on which branch of Cao Dai they most closely follow - Confucianism, Taoism or Buddhism - and they take a vow of celibacy. The white headgear, which looks like those that Taoist priests, wear is made of cardboard. I spotted one that was rather ratty. Then there are the lay followers in white.
Like its rojak religious tenets, the cathedral in the Holy See is a gaudy mish-mash of colours and architectural styles, with dragons wrapped around pillars and lotus flowers scattered on windows. The ceiling of the main hall is painted sky blue and has clouds.
We were there in time to catch noon prayers. We weren't allowed in the hall but could watch the proceedings from the balcony above. An orchestra and some singers on the upper level perform during the prayers. A gong rings and the followers march in, elders first (there are more old folks than young ones). I felt a bit intrusive, though, watching them go through the motions - like we were distracting them from their commune with God. But, well, they did open their doors to visitors... No entrance fees required, but I dropped a couple of dollars in the donation box - more to thank them for allowing us to watch the visual feast.

Returned to the bus 15 minutes late - wondered if there were daggers trained on our backs as we sat down.

Day-tripping from HCMC

The wait

Of the 2 and half days we had in HCMC, we scheduled one entire day for a day trip to Tay Ninh, home of the Cao Dai Cathedral, and the notorious Cu Chi Tunnels.

Our pickup was 15 mins late. We were bussed to the tour agency's main office, where we had to wait almost an hour. Meanwhile, vendors made their way through the crowd, hawking Lonely Planets, toy horses with nodding heads and sunglasses which HB was sure were snatched off unsuspecting tourists' faces.

But we didn't complain - we paid a mere US$5 each for the day-long affair that included a guide. Hotel pickup/dropoff was another US$1 each. Brochures in our hotel room offered the same trip, lunch included, for US$87!!! We were armed with ham, bread and fruits for lunch. (Guidebooks say food out of town was dire.) Our food bill? About $7.

I was quite miffed that our first stop (not mentioned in the itinerary) was a handicraft factory. But it hired handicapped people, so that was alright. And after a while, I was quite fascinated by the work they did.

Here's a craft I could get my nieces to do. Stick eggshells on black paper, use pins to crack them and spread pieces to get shadow gradations. Very nice. The surface of the piece is then lacquered.

I've never been much of a fan of mother-of-pearl inlay. But the process of creating the handiwork is quite fascinating. I think the photos speak for themselves. Watching the sawing, I could feel goose pimples forming - fingernails-on-slateboard torture!

I bought a small version of the left picture in the top right photo - of man casting a net into the water. It's in monochrome so that the way the eggshells are spread are more pronounced.

Crap no more

Sai-gon... get it?

Took a puke-inducing cab ride from the airport into town. There's just too much noise from the toot-tooting horns. So many motorbikes. Organised public transport is almost non-existent - mainly cabs and a smattering of rambling buses. Then there are the pirate taxis, motorbike taxis and cyclos. I would have tried the cyclo but the relentless traffic and transport touts put me in a foul mood.

Entire families hop onto tiny two-wheelers to go on outings. We've spotted Dad at the helm, with older kid in front, and Mum cradling baby in the backseat. And then there's the family dog!

And we learnt first-hand what it's like not to have an itinerary in hand. Where to go? Dunno. Where's this place? Dunno. What time does it close? Dunno.

Crossing the roads is a battle of wills - yours vs the biker. A zebra-crossing accounts for nothing; the riders seem to heed stoplights though. But we've seen a few simply slip through red lights. Which way does the traffic run? It depends on where the rider wants to go. Most go with the flow, but there are the rogue riders merrily going against the grain! So in all, it's like crossing a multi-carriageway highway crammed with motorbikes and the occasional car - no stopping. Just dodge, dodge, dodge. On another day at Ben Tanh market, we had a tourist police officer escort us across the road. Even then, the traffic didn't stop for him.

The menace at rest

After booking our day trip to Cu Chi Tunnels and Tay Ninh, we needed a break from the crazy traffic and touts. HB spotted a woman who do-do'd next to a parked bus, hocked her pants up and walked off. Eeyew.

Took shelter in a Trung Nguyen coffee shop we spotted earlier. We were served this strange flavoured iced water. I guess it's like the lemon-flavoured water most restaurants now serve back home. The weasel coffee we ordered had a salty buttery taste and a caramel scent. We later found that even normal Viet coffees tasted like that. Bought three 200g bags but felt they weren't enough.

At home, we somehow can't get the brew to taste the same even when we used the Viet coffee-drippers. Was something added to the coffee before it was served?


Our first geocache find is in a park hemming the backpacker area. The park was filled with people doing their evening exercises. Aunties power-walked in pyjamas (why do they walk about in their bedclothes, we wonder). Doggies took a leak and do-do'd. We saw boys and young men playing group chatek (the Viet version has a spring at the base). Spotted a parking lot near geocache ground zero marked "WC". Hmm did that strange woman we saw earlier know something we don't?

Only for the short haul

We couldn't get the bargain package to Saigon my colleague booked last year ($298 on Vietnam Airlines with 2-night stay, but excluded S$90 and US$14 taxes and 1-night extension in a basic room is $70), so we went budget for a 3-night stay. Our total? About $450 each.

Which is fine for a short flight. On a longer trip, I'd miss the warm towels and free flow of tomato juice! I had loaded my SD card with first 4 episodes of BSG3 to watch on my PDA. But we ended up snoozing on the flight instead (no pillows, no blankets). TV shows came in handy on a long bus ride later.

While we had to walk on tarmac to the plane in the rain, we were given brollies. Free-seating, but Tiger Airways let in passengers in batches, so there was no mad scramble for seats.

We went budget all the way from the doorstep. I took a bus to Outram MRT and all the way to the airport (with one change at Tanah Merah). There's a free shuttle that connects T2 to the Budget Terminal.

The terminal was spacious, but no marble flooring or spouting fountains here. And the only food outlet that greeted us as we entered was Han's. We had a sandwich and an apple each. But once we got pass immigration, we regretted it.

There were more and better eateries inside! We could have had O'Brien's triple-decker! Shopping was sparse, but I managed to snag a nice backpack at Sports Connection. And it was on sale.

It may be just a budget terminal, but it reminds me of the standard ones at other airports... and compared with some, it was way better!