It’s been a blinder! Although I say this despite, rather than because of, the bicycle-induced pain in my posterior…

We were up early, and in the hotel lobby at 6:30 for a trip to the Cai Rang floating market, which is basically a wholesale fruit and veg market conducted on boats. I was expecting colour and hustle, and to be honest it wasn’t *as* eye catching as the day on the river yesterday had been. But it was interesting and I was fascinated by the way the larger produce – particularly watermelons – are stacked and handled. There’s something quite mesmeric about watching a pile of melons being dismantled on one vessel two by two, and thrown to a re-seller on another vessel to be re-stacked, sailed to the quayside where, presumably, the whole process is repeated for onward transport to the retail market, wherever that is. I was also impressed by the way that streetfood sellers have simply transferred their trade to boats – there was a wide variety of Banh Mi, Bun Cha, Pho and other stalls floating around the market, plying a healthy trade!

Having pottered around the market for a while, we headed back to the hotel to pack up and check out. At 10am, we met today’s guide, Toby. Truly one of the most memorable characters of the whole trip, Toby has really brought our little group together and entertained, informed and endeared himself to us. Today’s group was me and yesterday’s Austrian couple (Isabella and Matthias). Under Toby’s watchful eye we were soon chatting and giggling together like old friends. Toby explained that the market traders we’d seen in the morning also live on their boats, and that in the evening the men will gather onto one boat to drink and chat, and sing traditional songs. He then sang us a traditional song, to welcome us to the Mekong, which I’m posting here because it gives you a real flavour of how lovely it was to spend the day in the company of this extraordinary, courageous young man.

We travelled by bus from Can Tho for about an hour and a half? Two hours? To Long Xuyen, where we caught the local ferry over to Mr Tiger Island. There, we picked up the dreaded bicycles. Thankfully, different dreaded bicycles which actually had some steerability, but nonetheless my legs are 90% bruise, and there is no longer any comfortable way of sitting. We rode for about 45 minutes through the 34 degree heat and sweltering humidity and yes, I’m totally playing you for sympathy here – I RODE A BLOODY BICYCLE! Twice!!! Sheesh….

Toby stopped us periodically, to point out particularly lovely bits of scenery – some flowers, a rice field, a good view. He insisted we photograph his find and that he photograph us, appreciating it. Honestly, there is little more hilarious than being photographed by Toby. “Lift your head up! I said head up! Yes! Now don’t move! Make yourself softer. Look at me! Head UP!” The results are… astonishing!! I particularly enjoyed this one, which does perfectly capture my everyday natural pose, I think…! It was like falling asleep and waking up to find yourself in a bizarre edition of RuPaul’s close up….

We were heading to the home of a family who live in an old style Mekong house, over 100 years old.  They maintain an organic mango farm, which Toby insisted produced the best mangoes in Vietnam. He got us one, and it was pretty bloomin’ good! *So* tasty. We had a cup of salty lemon juice to wash it down, admired the family house and ancestral shrines, and then we were on our way again.

Back on the bikes we pedalled like fury, pausing only to say hello to every child we passed, all of whom wanted to practice their English. They were incredibly sweet and welcoming – although the pace we were travelling did make me wonder a couple of times whether their enthusiasm was for Toby killing off another group of tourists with heat exhaustion 🤣

We arrived at a karaoke bar for lunch. Karaoke is big in this part of Vietnam and I’ve been hearing the enthusiastic, but largely unappealing, evidence since HCMC.

Lunch was good, although I have eaten more food in the last two or three days than in the previous 10 put together, I think, and hunger is becoming a distant memory…(this is, I know, not a thing one should complain about when hunger is a daily companion for so many… I mean it in the spirit of observation rather than lording my own privilege.)

After lunch, it was back to the ferry and then another couple of hours on the bus to Chau Doc. We arrived at the hotel at 4pm, and Toby left us with a caution not to eat at the street-food stalls if we valued our digestive systems!

We decided to hire a taxi and go up to the Sam Mountain shrines. A little like the Marble Mountains, Sam Mountain has a series of temples and shrines carved into the hillside and an intricate system of linked caves also containing shrines. It was extraordinary! The monks were incredibly welcoming, and seemed amused by our awe. They posed and smiled for photos for us and were incredibly tolerant when we accidentally went the wrong way round the cave system.

The walls of the caves were incredibly warm – that mountain stores some heat, I can tell you! We had to leave our shoes at the foot of the temple steps (oh yeah. Stairs. Stairs and bicycles in a single day!!) and I was a bit nervous, given my close encounter with a spider at lunch (“it’s ok!” said Toby. “That one isn’t poisonous…!” Cheers. Genuinely hadn’t occurred to me until then.) In the event, we saw only one spider – a big fat one on the rise of a step – and it was far too hot to move so we just stepped carefully around it.

The caves were linked by brick staircases and comfortably high walls. Every so often a natural opening in the roof allowed light and air in, but the whole system was well lit, not least by the fairy lights that decorated every shrine. One shrine was guarded by an enormous pair of carved snakes that almost made me want to speak in parseltongue. Others, inexplicably, were set in rooms carved into the rock and lined with mirrors. There was running water throughout the whole thing – either natural or pumped. And bats. Isabella, in particular , was swooped by bats frequently. I was thrilled when my flash caught one hanging on the cave roof right in front of us, watching us watching it….

We had arranged with a taxi to wait an hour for us, and so we made our way back down to the car park, pausing at the gift shop which was selling blessed prayer bracelets – the money goes to support the community, and so I got some for the kids. (Sorry kids. Spoiler alert!)

We reached the car park to find a total absence of taxis. So I turned once again to Google Translate and managed to summon him back, to collect his fare. As we were waiting, a bunch of monks in elaborate robes pulled up on mopeds and I think we probably missed an opportunity to see them chanting and conducting a service. That would have been something!

Back at the hotel, then, and back to packing and setting off at ohmygoditsearly. The journey to Cambodia is on a speed boat to Phnom Penh, and we should arrive at midday-ish. I’m planning to take a quick, hop-on hop-off trip to the killing fields and a prison camp memorial, before getting the overnight bus to Siem Reap. So imagine my delight when I discovered I’ve left my travel pillow somewhere…! Oh well.

Vietnam has been truly wonderful. It has lived up to – and in fact gone well beyond – my wildest dreams. I feel as though I’ve caught it just past a cusp where tourism has become commonplace. Everywhere I’ve been has been set up to accommodate tourism, and everybody has been gracious, generous and incredibly hospitable in doing so. But at the same time, I haven’t felt that the tourists are overwhelming, yet. Others I’ve met have reported that in the rural areas they have still been very much a curiosity. But even there, the welcome has been warm, generous and genuine.

I will almost certainly come back. I have never felt unsafe – and only slightly uncomfortable in HCMC. Nor have I felt at any point that travelling alone has earmarked me in any way.

I think when I do come again I will be more confident about booking things (including internal flights and accommodation) on the fly once I get here. This time I have appreciated the security and convenience of having arranged stuff in advance. But the prices are so much lower in-country, even allowing for the fact you pay a tourist’s price, and the flexibility to change your plans based on local or other traveller’s recommendations must be worth the extra work of sorting things out as you go.

I’m expecting Cambodia to be different – more agrarian, greater poverty, slower paced is my expectation. I’m really looking forward to finding out how it matches that expectation!

Thank you, Vietnam. It’s been utterly memorable. Truly a trip of a lifetime!