Travels

Just came back from a whirlwind tour of the Mekong Delta.  Resting for the New Year festivities in Saigon before heading to the island of Phu Quoc for some beach and diving

In Hanoi, I was mildly amused that there are old grandmothers squatting on the street next to a simple metal scale, where, for a cheap twenty-five cents, you can weigh yourself to 'analyze your health'.

I've been hesitant to write anything thus far about Vietnam, because I don't quite have anything coherent to say about it – yet.  It's infuriatingly disappointing but so tantalizing with potential and sparkling with moments of brilliance all at once.

Between bouts of giardia and other 'eas on the 36 hour bus ride from Hanoi down to Saigon, I met Carlos, a Spaniard making his way around the world in 7 months who I think is missing his wife and kids very much.

One thing with Asian transportation is that it doesn't matter how many seats there are on the bus/subway/train/boat – if there are passengers, then there are fees.

There are only so many times I can eat during the course of the day, write, and watch old men play chess and old couples dance in the park.  Slow days had approached and were now staring at me resolutely.