Parents in Phnom Penh!

Crossing the border into Cambodia, it was clear that we were in another country. When our bus stopped for a break, it was greeted by a throng of children, barefoot and dirty, grabbing our arms and pleading for money as we tried to get off the bus. Hard to reconcile. The roads were quieter too, I think possibly because fewer people can afford cars.

We got to Phnom Penh in the afternoon with hours to spare before my parents flight landed, so we had time to walk around and get our bearings and pick up some fruit to share with them. Phnom Penh is not the metropolis I expected to find after the drive from the border. It's fancy stores and shiny towers belie the dusty poverty just beyond the city borders. But there is grittiness in the city too. But the overwhelming impression I had, right away, was the friendliness of the Cambodian people. So warm and open, and they love to laugh!

We went to the airport later that night to meet my parents, and there were long hugs and happy tears all around. They were here! They had just flown halfway around the world and they were here! I was so happy to see them. We chattered the whole ride back.

The next day we feasted on some fruit and then hit the pavement, walking all over the city, through the busy city streets and up to the Central Market. It was refreshing to see things through their eyes, and realize what things I've grown accustomed to. We walked through the market, haggling and bargaining, sat by the river, got some massages at Seeing Hands, walked around Wat Phnom, and then back to the Night Market, snacking on street food, topping the day off with a tuk-tuk ride home. Mark and I were exhausted! But they had energy and exuberance to spare. Goodness, they're going to run us ragged!

Camera shopping in HCMC

We arrived in the bustling metropolis of Saigon in the afternoon to shiny, modern buildings towering over dusty vendor stalls, traffic lights that were obeyed (to some extent), and park areas filled with people engaged in fitness activities of all kinds. First order of business: start looking for a new DSLR.

We geared ourselves up for hours of searching, comparing, and deciding, but as it turned out there were several camera stores not very far from our guesthouse, and I had a new camera within two hours of arriving. Because my lens wasn't broken, I was able to just get a new body, and I ended up with the exact same camera, just 8 years newer, and 8 years more awesome. And all for a fraction of what I paid in 2005. Though I begrudge having to spent hard-earned trip savings to replace my camera, the thought of not being able to capture what I'm seeing was not a happy prospect. The point-and-shoot works in a pinch, but it just doesn't capture the light or the range of tones the way a DSLR can.

New camera happily in hand, we had ample time to wander and explore this lovely (but expensive! ouch!) city. The Reunification Palace, whose metal gates were stormed by tanks on April 30, 1975 ending the Vietnam War, is a perfect time-capsule of 1960's architecture and interior design. Very, very funky.

Mmmmmm bakery

Mui Ne: sunrise yoga, interesting sea creatures, a shell rainbow, fairy streams and sand dunes...

Mui Ne is a beach side fishing village in Vietnam, spread out along one main road that runs parallel to the shore. We hadn't booked our accommodation before arriving, and long story short, we ended up giving in to the moto taxis that were pestering us and showing us pictures of a resort, but it actually worked out! Our room was rather meh, but the resort itself was great, with a nice palm tree ringed pool, and beach front access. Not. Too. Shabby.

I woke up early in the mornings to head down to the beach to do some yoga. I haven't had much luck finding classes, so I've been trying to do my own thing as much as possible. And sunrise yoga on the beach? Awesome! I missed the actual sun rising on the first day, but on the second day, my goodness! Just as I was starting my sun salutations, there it was, a giant hot pink orb rising over the land. As I saluted the rising sun, fishermen were hauling in their nets, and sorting through the catch. Fish and other unidentifiable creatures flipping and flopping in the sand. One woman had made a separate little pool for a few choice creatures -- I'm not sure if these were headed back to sea or to market. The pile of picked-over discards was a little sad... so many jellyfish. I wish I knew the system; I would gladly have helped return the discards to the sea!

The morning's low tide is also a great time for shell searching, and I found a full rainbow. Black, purple, maroon, bubblegum pink, ochre, even chartreuse and green. Amazing!

The Fairy Stream is a shallow, sandy riverbed that you walk along barefoot, past incredible, natural sculptures of sand to a small waterfall. Lots of entrepreneurial children will "lead" you, expecting to be paid for their services of walking in front of you, so we told them that we're going to hike alone. We'll show you the way! they insist, but since the path is the river... I think we can manage.

We rented some old, creaky, terrible bicycles to ride out to the red sand dunes. But having generated a bit of a sweat getting there, I was breaded within minutes from the driving sand... but what a neat place! It's a mini desert! Hills and mountains of rich, red sand with gorgeous patterns on the wind-blown surfaces. A fun place to attempt a 'crazy carpet' run!

A bus ride

We’re on the move again. This time a short 4-hour bus ride (which ends up being 6, because we have the slowest driver in Vietnam) from Nha Trang to Mui Ne. From the bus I see the world passing by outside the window. A stark white egret flapping over lush green fields. Fields dotted with workers in nón lá (conical hats). A calf nestles it’s mother who’s tethered to a fence post by the roadside. Walls of smoke from garbage being burned in the ditches. Walls of smoke inside our bus from our driver who chain smokes. Barefoot children laugh and chase each other. A moto, it’s driver wearing a Hello Kitty helmet, has a large makeshift crate lashed to the back. The crate is full of live dogs. Our bus honks loudly, passing tanker trucks and squeezing back into our lane just as the oncoming traffic passes. Fronds of palm trees sway up high as people sit below, on tiny plastic chairs, at tiny plastic tables, eating and drinking. Cobs of golden corn lie in the sun, drying on bright blue tarps. Men, barefoot, pile bundles of sticks in the back of a truck. A picture of Beyonce on a sign for a salon. Birds sit on the backs of cows. Through it all our bus plows, honking the whole way, barely slowing down enough to let on an old man who flags down the bus. A Vietnamese bus is never full until people are sitting in the aisles.

I want to capture these images with words, because my camera has ceased to function. It was working, and then it wasn’t. No reason. I am sad, because it was my first DSLR. I’ve had it for eight years. We’ve traveled a lot of places, that camera and I, and I had hoped it would have been with me for the rest of this trip. And I am daunted at the prospect of having to spend hard-earned trip savings on a new camera. But luckily we will be in HCMC in a couple of days, and I’m hopeful I’ll be able to find something for the right price.

Two trees away from relaxation

We bought a hand-made hammock in Hoi An from a man selling them from his bicycle. And just like that, we are Hammock People. And now we look at trees not necessarily for their interesting bark patterns or gnarly tree roots, but their proximity to one another. We might say "ooh, those ones are perfectly spaced!" and shortly thereafter, you will find us, feet up, maxin' and relaxin'. It's that easy.

Now don't go thinking there aren't risks involved in the business of hammocking. Hammock People need to look out for loose coconuts... and... hmmm, ok, maybe there aren't many risks...

But we do get some pretty strange looks. We get nods of approval from foreigners, but looks of confusion from the Vietnamese. Probably because they don't find it hot enough to lounge about, or perhaps we're breaking some bylaw we're unaware of. 

We have also noticed that a hammock is best strung perpendicular to the view, not parallel to it; that way you don't even have to turn your head. Ergonomics, people! So many things to think about...