This continues to be what I can best describe as an overwhelmingly amazing experience.
I wish I could stop talking about the traffic, in particular the scooters, but frankly we spend a considerable amount of time in traffic as we transport to the various locations included as part of shore tours. Consequently, you're looking out the window and damned if the scooters aren't zooming past, through, around, inside, outside, upside down next to your bus. A source of never ending fascination.
Day 9: Saigon. In A Pedal Cab. Or, an Opportunity to Watch Your Life Flash Before Your Eyes.
Our ship is docked in a commercial port, about an hour plus from the center of Ho Chi Mihn City/Saigon between 10 a.m. and 2 p.m., otherwise plan on closer to two hours to arrive to your destination. Saigon is the major metropolitan area of Viet Nam, population 14-15 million depending on which guide you're listening to, 809 sq. miles. Roadside markets pop up each day; some utilize carts, others are simply a plastic stool or two with the vendor hanging a sign indicating what is being sold. Corrugated metal roofs cover some of the more permanent stalls. Tarps shelter some. We could only speculate as to whether a vendor just picked a spot on the road to set up, or if the very small patch of land/sidewalk directly on the curb next to the street where traffic chases by is owned or rented. Do the vendors of banh mi or pho or rice dishes or fish or beverages or fresh fruits and vegetables set up in the same spot every day, or do they vary their locale? What happens if another seller takes your place? Where do you go? More to know than there was time to learn.
Other vendors appear to have permanent locations in stalls nestled between other businesses on the city streets. Very few buildings have street level doors, instead utilizing overhead doors and grates that pull down when not in business. Downtown Saigon presents like other major metropolitan areas I've visited, with tall buildings, wider streets, high end shops. Outside downtown it's a hurly burly mix of narrow buildings, usually not more than 5 stories high. As mentioned, vendors dominate the streets with an unusual mixture of what looks like a well developed and maintained property next to one with a tarp serving as its roof and a long, narrow, dark interior next to one that it's difficult to distinguish whether it's been left in a state of disrepair or is perhaps under construction next to what appears to be a vacant lot where trash has been thrown in and left, intermingled with basically abandoned properties, especially notable in the apartments above the shops. And so it goes, block after block. We remarked on the garbage on the streets, more the norm than not.With that 14-15 million people, it is estimated that there are 7-8 million scooters or motorbikes in the city. One guide shared that drivers do not have to get a license in order to drive; they just have to be 18. We continue to be amazed that accidents are not the order of the day. Scooter drivers stare straight ahead, seldom glancing over their shoulder or behind them to check what the traffic is doing. Frankly, I just don't get it but then again, I don't have to. And yes, there are cars, approximately 1 million of them. Scooters are a far more affordable method of transportation, in addition to ample public buses. We didn't see too many people walking. In all honesty, if you had to dodge the stalls on the sidewalk, some with hot cooking oil, and the scooters that occasionally take the sidewalk short cut, I'm not sure you'd be too crazy about walking.
Our guides did share that many Saigonese purchase all their meals at the street vendors because street food is inexpensive and good. It gives a new meaning to the word "drive through" to see a scooter pull off the street onto the curb, buy a meal or snack at the street vendor, and then zoom back into the stream of traffic. Not quite Dunkin or McDonald's, to say the least.
First stop on Day 9 was the Pedal Cab Experience, where the bus let us out on the street and we then navigated our way to where a couple dozen pedal cabs and drivers awaited us. On the street with the traffic whipping by! Breathtaking. We traversed the streets of Saigon past a wide variety of markets that were grouped by the type of merchandise sold. The vibrancy of the colors, mixed with the wide array of items, people crouched in front of their stalls talking with neighbors, maybe cooking or eating, all the while trusting the pedal cab and scooter drivers don't want to get into an accident any more than you do--too much to take in.
I texted this photo to my 10 year old granddaughter, who texted back, "Grandma, what are you doing in a wheelchair?"
There were fish in the plastic bags
Crocs and Flip Flops GaloreBlocks of scooter parts; it seemed as if you could buy everything needed to build your own scooter, if you were so inclined
Fabrics of all colors. Seamstresses sat in some stalls, signs advertising their ability to produce the traditional Vietnamese garment áo dài,
a dress or suit in one day.
Nuts of all kinds.
Isn't this a gorgeous display of dragon fruit? You frequently see platters of dragon fruit in temples and pagodas as offerings to the gods. One guide told us that worshippers then take the platters home to bring good luck with them.
Meats and live fish
My guess is these are not going home to lay eggs. Let's call it dinner.
Only one store selling Christmas items, and a few establishments had Halloween decorations, a couple others Christmas trimmings. One of our guides indicated that Halloween is gaining in popularity in Viet Nam.
And if you want to build roller blades, here you go. Honestly, I stopped taking photographs because there simply was TOO. MUCH. But the photo below might be my favorite of the day. Isn't she great?
The rain/monsoons held off while we pedal cabbed around Saigon, and for that I was grateful. Pedal cabs are not used as a method of transportation around the city. This honor is reserved for tourists. It is one memorable tourist experience.
Next stop was a Lao temple, where we watched as some beautifully dressed young women honored and prayed to their gods. Most of the temples and pagodas are filled with the scent and smoke of incense sticks, lit by worshippers.
My experience, on group tours, is that if a meal is included, it is at a specified restaurant. I think about how important that revenue is to the establishment, to have a guaranteed number of people come through for a meal. Personally I would prefer to wander the streets wherever I am until I find a place that for whatever reason appeals to me. We were warned away from street food here by our local travel clinic, and one guide confirmed that. Our fragile American digestive system can't keep up with Asian street cuisine. The organized meals are reflective of the culture, usually, and mostly tasty. Unfortunately the
banh mi at this restaurant wasn't a true banh mi, and that was disappointing. But the beer was good.
From there we drove past a number of historical landmarks relating to the Viet Nam war. I attempted to take pictures through the bus windows but the pouring rain distorted any images. The day ended at the (in)famous Bến Thành Market, dating back to the 17th c. According to chat gpt:
Inside, you’ll find hundreds of tightly packed stalls selling everything from silk, handicrafts, lacquerware, and souvenirs to spices, coffee, and local street food. The air is rich with the scent of grilled meats, pho broth, and fresh herbs, and the aisles are alive with bargaining voices and the clatter of dishes from tiny food counters.
Just took one picture because it was hot, humid, the smells were so pungent as to be stifling, and the stall vendors who need to make their living are beyond insistent for you to stop and view their wares. "What are you looking for, Madame? Can I help you, Madame?" rang in my ears as I weaved my way through the stalls. If I stopped, the vendors swarmed and they weren't amenable to taking no for an answer. The guide suggested we haggle over price if we were interested in making a purchase, and that's just not my gig. The prices are low to begin with--Viet Nam is known for being a very reasonable country, as my husband Dan discovered with his coffee purchases at most stops. I feel uncomfortable trying to talk down someone who is just trying to make a living. It was interesting to see the vendors on their phones in between attempts to encourage tourists to buy or eating. The food stalls in the middle of the market were particularly intriguing to me. Not that I would have bought anything to eat...
Back on the ship, we celebrated My Friend Jeanie'sᵀᴹ birthday in one of the specialty restaurants. Another Viking bonus--the more upscale venues (you have to wear nicer clothes, not jeans version of upscale) are free of charge. We've been taking some advantage of them, primarily eating at the buffet style World Cafe simply because at the end of the day, we're kinda pooped and it's nice, in our opinion, not to have to get dressed up. Ah, the life of the retired (or not retired in My Friend Jeanie'sᵀᴹ case, she an Episcopal Deacon continuing to serve the community).
The cruise line helped us celebrate My Friend Jeanie'sᵀᴹ birthday with a champagne toast and a ridiculously decadent cake that we didn't have the good sense not to finish after our filling meal.
To bed, as Day 10 is another early start (6:45 a.m.)
Day 10: Cu Chi Tunnels and War Remnants Museum
When I chose this shore tour, I did so with the understanding that it would not be lighthearted and indeed might be emotionally upsetting. But in our travels, I have felt, and continue to feel, the need to bear witness to events and locales that reflect the least of humanity.
From Chatgpt:
The Củ Chi Tunnels, about 60 kilometers northwest of Ho Chi Minh City, are one of Vietnam’s most remarkable historical sites — an underground world that tells the story of endurance and ingenuity during the Vietnam War.
Originally begun in the late 1940s during the resistance against the French, the tunnels were later expanded by the Viet Cong into a vast network stretching over 250 kilometers. They included living quarters, kitchens, hospitals, weapon workshops, and command centers, all hidden beneath dense jungle. Soldiers and villagers moved through the tunnels to evade bombing raids, launch surprise attacks, and transport supplies — often enduring heat, darkness, and scarcity for weeks at a time.
Today, parts of the Củ Chi Tunnels are open for visitors to explore. You can crawl through narrow, reconstructed passages, see camouflaged trapdoors, and learn how simple tools and clever designs — such as smokeless cooking vents — helped sustain life underground. The site stands as a powerful reminder of Vietnam’s resilience and resourcefulness in the face of overwhelming odds.
Our guide referred to the area as Cu Chi land. It is estimated that during the height of the Viet Nam war, 16,000 people lived in the tunnels. During the tour, he described why the Americans couldn't find the tunnel system.
Camouflage. We saw how the entrances to the tunnels were cleverly hidden, including this one that I dropped into. You put leaves over the top of the tunnel entrance, then pull it shut over your head, as you maneuvered through the tunnels.
Dense forestation of the jungle. This led the Americans to deforest the jungle, including with the use of napalm, then Agent Orange.
The design of the tunnels themselves. The Viet Cong were crafty. The tunnels could go in all directions, up, down, sideways. Ventilation systems were constructed to end above ground in termite mounds or other disguised natural forest areas so they didn't lead back to the tunnel system. American soldiers basically walked over the tunnels, not knowing they were there.
Our guide also spoke about how the villagers supported the Viet Cong, which I felt was perhaps not easy for everyone on the tour to hear. Let's look at it this way: you're eeking out a subsistence level living for yourself, your family, including your extended family, in a small village, primarily farming rice. Your country has been overrun by French colonialists for centuries until Ho Chi Mihn leads a resistance movement so the country has its independence. The country is divided into North and South Viet Nam after WWII, the communist backed North and US backed South. (According to Robert McNamara, U.S. Secretary of Defense from 1961 to 1968, the Viet Nam war was, "wrong, horribly wrong.") Anyhow, you're once again subjected to foreigners ripping up your land, destroying your livelihood, endangering the lives of your loved ones, and here come the Viet Cong saying, "We're fighting these foreign invaders and we need your help." And then in come the Americans saying, "We're fighting for your freedom. You don't want to be Communist. We need your help." How horrible is this. Just how horrible.
The Viet Cong had a devastating series of traps they set along the jungle floor. Here's a sample of one.
It was hot, humid, spitting rain as we walked through the jungle, more like a forest with a path. You couldn't help but think--well, I couldn't--how outrageously awful the war was for both sides. One of my cousins was killed in the Viet Nam war. I had one friend who served and I recall in his letters he talked about how everything was wet all the time, clothing and boots and socks never dried out because of the humidity. I walked around, looked, bore witness, crawled through one tunnel, and kept shaking my head. We, humanity, the United States. We just never learn. 58,000 Americans died in the Viet Nam War, 1.4 Vietnamese military deaths, 2-4 million civilian deaths. The impact on Viet Nam is still being felt, as the country struggles to establish itself internally and on the world stage.
Another method of deception. The Americans wore boots. The Viet Cong wore flip flops made from rubber tires with treads that left tracks showing opposite directions of the way they were actually going.
There was an opportunity to crawl through one of the tunnels so I took it. It was as described: dark, dank, narrow, stifling. I was happy to have made it through, though it wasn't very long.
The next stop was the War Remnants Museum. It's always interesting to tour a war museum that reflects another country's perspective. In Europe, I've found such institutions basically ask the question what took the damned Americans so long to get into the war? Here, it was that we all need to remember what, as McNamara said, was a wrong, horribly wrong action. My Friend Jeanie'sᵀᴹ husband, Bill, was in the army at the end of the war. He had orders to Saigon, which were fortunately rescinded. I asked him what he thought about the Viet Nam war. There are a lot of smart people in the military, right? Was it American hubris, that we couldn't believe this small country didn't want to be democratic? That once the military got in, they couldn't find their way out? All of the above, and more. We're still asking the questions. What are we doing with the answers?There was a particularly striking exhibit of photographs taken by photographers who were killed while covering the war. A number were from the final roll of film used by a photographer who was then killed. I find these memorials striking and suffocating. The
original, iconic photo of a young Vietnamese girl running down the road, horribly burned because her village had been struck with napalm, is on display at the museum, donated by the photographer.
Leftover military equipment in the courtyard of the museum.
Day 10 was haunting.
Day 11: Back to Saigon
The bus ride during rush hour into the heart of the city is worth the price of admission of the tour. We also discovered that it's a whole lot different, sitting up high in the bus, observing the street action through the windows than it is being on the street. At the Buddhist temple, the bus let us out about a block away so we needed to traverse the street action, including stepping off the curb and praying you didn't get hit by a scooter because they DO NOT STOP. We also did some walking in a wide boulevard area by the Opera House, City Hall, and the Carvelle Hotel which was frequented by the US military brass during the war. Here there were marked cross walks but as My Friend Jeanieᵀᴹ observed, they mean nothing.
The pointed tower is the tallest building in Saigon, Landmark 81. There are over 50 universities in Saigon, as the country moves forward in educating its populace. According to one tour guide, over a million people left Saigon following the end of the war--the boat people. Many settled in California, where there is an area in Los Angeles known as Little Saigon. Vietnamese from the Mekong Delta, the central provinces and the north have moved to Saigon.
Final stop of the day was back to the market. By perusing the previous day, I had in mind a few souvenirs I wanted to buy. Took Dan with me and he promptly knocked over one of the vendors' displays, so they gave him one of those great plastic stools to sit and stay on as I gathered what I wanted to purchase. Did haggle a bit but not much. And I got what I came for, then got out!
Last night, the ship showed Good Morning, Vietnam. An entirely different viewing experience after having been here.
Today we're sailing the South China Sea into the Gulf of Thailand, where we'll spend a couple days in Cambodia. It's Halloween here already--as my granddaughter Millie noted when I texted her a photo, it's tomorrow there, Grandma!
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