A haphazard chronicle of my inevitable misadventures during a year in Vietnam and points east.

p.s. I'll be pitifully grateful if you send me email during my exile: TravelerKaty@hotmail.com

October 2002 November 2002 December 2002 January 2003 February 2003 March 2003 April 2003 May 2003 June 2003 July 2003 August 2003 September 2003 October 2003 November 2003 February 2006 March 2006 May 2006

 
On my second day of Phu Quoc adventuring my driver and I developed a workable means of communication. I would speak my language, he would speak his, and elaborate hand gestures and pointing at the map were involved. Mind you, the whole map thing seemed like kind of a foreign concept to him, so this was no speedy process. Also, since he never responded to ANY verbal comments on my part ("STOP" being the most common one), I learned to hold both my hands out in front of him in the universal "stop" signal whenever I felt the urge to take a photo, walk around, or resituate my hindquarters on the motorbike without courting bodily injury.

We began the day by crossing thorugh the mountains in the middle of the island. This direction was very much to my surprise, since during our elaborate morning map discussion I had thought we had agreed on another route. No big deal, though -- a subsequent series of charades established that we were just doing the loop backwards. The benefit of this direction was that the road was paved. Paved! Sometime quite recently they had laid an thin, single-lane strip of concrete down the middle of the two "lane" clay gravel road that existed before. Frankly, it doesn't look like it will last long, considering the heavy rains they get during the monsoon season, but it's sure nice for now. Cars and trucks do have the right of way on the paved section -- whenever we would meet one (not that often) we and any other 2-wheeled vehicle would just veer onto the wide clay shoulders.

The drive was beautiful and intensely green and forested, with periodic fruit orchards, tiny rice paddies or pepper farms on hillsides and valleys. Pepper is one of the main exports from the island. They plant rows of 8 foot poles in the dirt, then the bushy pepper vines crawl up and around it. When they're fill grown, they look like a giant green version of Marge Simpson's hair. Or maybe like a hundred Marges buried up to her forehead and planted in straight rows.

After another fishing village photo session (I have a sneaking suspicion that I will have a comprehensive album of just boat and fishing pictures when I get my film developed) we turned off the road onto another backbreaking rutted trail. We emerged at one of the most beautiful beaches I have ever seen, Sao Beach. Sand so soft it felt like stepping on a velvet cushion, and white as salt. Really, it was like hourglass sand -- fine, white and sparkling in the sunshine. I had the beach practically to myself, apart from the strange young Japanese man who buried his wife in the sand up to her head. I don't even know what to think about that -- she really didn't look as into the exercise as he was.

We spent the rest of the day exploring An Thoi, the southernmost town on the island (never have I seen so many millions of drying fish in one place), Long Beach, the pearl farm, and various other weird sights along the way. The oddest was perhaps the Thousand Stars Resort, at which we stopped for a Coke. The resort was very well put together for the most part -- nice "bungalows" made of brick and plaster, all with good views and air conditioning, clean hotel rooms, restauraunt, great seating area for beachgoers, etc. The weird thing was that they installed all these hideous garish kitchy statues all over the place, giving the whole operation kind oa Hawaiian Fun House sort of feeling. On the beach between the patio and the water, for example (read: blocking the view), were a statue of three happy jumping dolphins and another of a giant topless mermaid. Also looming about the grounds were a Chinese mandarin, a tiger, a full-sized horse, huge dragon, turtle, and many more. If I were forced to identify the artistic medium employed, I'd guess cement and surplus paint. I do hope this sort of decoration does not proliferate as this island develops -- might as well go to the Saigon Water Park.

© 2002 Katy Warren
posted by Katy at 8:22 PM