Morning on the Gulf of Thailand

First, my apologies to any loyal readers who were disappointed to visit the blog and find nothing on the Mekong Delta and also no pics, contrary to my earlier promise. When we got back to our room Tueday night, the internet connection in the hotel was down, so my hands were tied. Despite what you may read about how wired SE Asia is, things like internet and phone connectivity are less than dependable. Alas, pictures will still have to wait until I can take the time to choose the right pictures and resize them...I promise they're coming soon!

I'll get to the setting hinted at in today's title, but first a few words about Saigon and the Mekong Delta...

Our day on the Delta was definitely worth the money, but was also far short of what either of us would have liked to have experienced. The problem with day trips to the Mekong is that they're not nearly long enough to get far enough into the delta to really see life on the river. We got glimpses of it during a couple of hours chugging up and down the channels around Vinh Long and Cai Be Floating Market (which was really just a handful of boats, most of which were selling fish). But we did get to see a few of the things they like to show tourists, like the way families in the region have been making coconut and rice candy for generations. Very interesting stuff. Then we had a very local lunch that consisted of a huge fried river fish from which you pick off meat and roll it in rice paper with veggies. Sarah had a hard time with the scaliness and fishy-ness. While it was something I'd never order, it was a fascitating meal experience.

Most of the day was spent driving in and out of the Saigon area--about 3 hours each way. Saigon isn't an easy city to get into or out of. It's a swirling mass of more than 8 million people, seemingly all of them on motorbikes, moving like a great school of fish, swarming to go through and around whatever obstacles are in their way. At major interesections, there are sometimes signals, but it doesn't matter. Everyone seems to do what they want, so crossing the street is like playing a more organic version of Frogger--meaning it's not lurchy and harrowing as you'd expect. It's more like you just calmly weave your way through the ongoing traffic, which slows and adapts like the school of fish to get around you. (That said, 2 people a day die in traffic incidents in Saigon.)

We had dinner at a great little place called the Black Cat, where I had (believe it or not) an excellent turkey pot pie and Sarah had (even more unbelievably) a very tasty Reuben. This after a dinner the previous night at a very good Cajun place (!). And we'll top it off Saturday night, our last in Saigon, by dining in what looks to be a great French bistro. Why all the Western food, you ask? Well, not only is it easy to get very tired of chunks of meat and veggies over rice or noodles, but in many places we have no choice, and Saigon is better known for its international food than for its local fare. In any case, we'll have a chance to eat something local at the street market Sunday afternoon before flying to Hanoi.

Now, to the present: Today finds us at the idyllic Mango Bay Resort on the island of Phu Quoc, off the southwest coast of Vietnam, surrounded by the warm and gentle waters of the Gulf of Thailand. We flew here yesterday from Saigon, drove from the quaint little airport through the rickety town and down a rut-filled dirt road. As we drove further away from town up the west coast of this teardrop-shaped island, we gradually moved onto smaller and tighter roads until arriving at this scenic little eco-resort. After being greeted at the open-air reception/restaurant, we were led to our "plantation bungalow" a couple of hundred yards through the natural grounds. The bungalow is perfect--a thatched-roof hut with a canopy bed (the canopy being mosquito netting of course, and don't worry, we're both taking our malaria pills), a dreamy private outdoor bathroom, and a deck looking out over the ocean. (We did have one near miss when we found a scorpion on the underside of my pillow yesterday afternoon.) The shore is maybe 50 yards down the sloping grassy embankment, where there are picturesque thatch umbrellas shielding pairs of lounges.

So far, in the 21 hours we've been here, we've had zero desire to do anything other than lay, swim, sleep, eat and drink. (And the bartender here makes a mighty fine gibson, much to my joy, which I sipped on while watching a gorgeous sunset last night.) At the moment, Sarah is seated in the restaurant, reading a gripping book about a woman's memory of the Pol Pot regime, as she sips coffee and listens to the lapping waves and swaying palms. You have our permission to be jealous. This place is freakin' awesome. A bit expensive by Vietnamese standards, but highly affordable for such luxury: $100 a night. Hour long massages are also expensive for here: $15. Dinner was exorbitant by Vietnameses standards: $40, including a very nice bottle of Chardonnay.

We'll be here two more days, which sounds just about right, before heading back for that final night in Saigon and then on to Hanoi for the northern Vietnam portion of our trip. Stay tuned for much more...