Vietnam Trip, Day 2: Exploring Phu Quoc

In the morning, we rented a scooter and at the hotel staff’s suggestion, headed north along the scenic road that followed the coast. If it had been up to me, we would have spent the day like a couple of crabs on the beach nearest out resort, but J’s first task is always to orient himself. So I sat on the back of the scooter, and even had to give him my sunglasses because he was driving and didn’t have his on, and he drove us up the wicked dirt “road” that was all poitholes and mud. It wasn’t at all comfortable and barely safe, but I enjoyed it more than driving fast along the main road with the other scooters and heavy construction vehicles roaring past.

At one point, the road was cordoned off with a rope and some white plastic tassles: just past that, it had been washed away and there was a span of perhaps 60 feet between us and the rest of the road. But there were motorcycle tracks down to the beach and we followed them to a silly little bridge made of sticks spanning a stream of water flowing down to the ocean. We supposed that a local man on a scooter could have ridden across, but even I alone am bigger than a local man, so the best thing to do was for J to walk it across. He swore; the effort was all on him, but I took picture that will grow funnier in time.

the gap in the road
the gap in the road
it was a pretty big gap
it was a pretty big gap
we didn't think the bridge would hold our weight, so J walked the scooter across
we didn’t think the bridge would hold our weight, so J walked the scooter across

After a few hours on that road, we were worn out, J from dealing not only with potholes but the prolonged uncertainty about if we’d find a way back to the main road, or would we have to drive back along the same road that was only taking us further away from the hotel; and me from the stress of being the powerless partner on the back seat. We eventually found the main road, which went through construction sites of new resorts and even an amusement park. We hadn’t eaten at all that day, having started off assuming we’d “find something”, so we had some Vietnamese food at a nice restaurant overlooking the ocean. But we got turned around in the town and couldn’t find the beach the blogs promised would be there, so we just went back to our own neighborhood.

We stopped for another Vietnamese coffee at a little cafe near our resort. We were quickly developing a taste for it: black and thick as oil, but incredibly smooth and chocolatey and not at all bitter. Of course, we still preferred it with a bit of the condensed milk to make it extra sweet and creamy. From our bench on the patio, we could watch the children at the local school enjoying their recess, and noted the wild mess of cables handing from the telephone pole across the way, in front of the produce stall. Ong Lang, that little neighborhood in Phu Quoc, brought back a wave of memories of the year my family and I lived in Abidjan, Cote d’Ivoire, when I was 13. The bad roads, the loose chickens, the  baguettes, the fried spring rolls, the shacks nestled in among the hotels and resorts, the kids balancing on too-big bicycles being passed by Lexus SUVs…

The cafe owner told us that this time of year, the beach at Ong Lang was the cleanest and most beautiful on the island. And when there are no clouds, the sunset is the most vibrant. There were clouds that evening, but it was still very lovely, and I was hugely grateful to finally get into the ocean after such a long day. The water was so clear and calm that I waded into until I was up to my shoulders, and I could still see my feet. Unfortunately, it was clear enough to see that there were not really any fish or anything worth gearing up for a snorkel for.

a very polite dog looking for scraps at the barbecue restaurant
a very polite dog looking for scraps at the barbecue restaurant

We ate at a barbecue restaurant that night. The prices were good enough that lots of Vietnamese tourists and other folks who I took to be locals were also there, but also many Europeans and north Americans. We had grilled pork belly, shrimp, squid, a whole red snapper, beef rolled up in betel leaves, mojitos, and beer. It was a gorgeous spread. When we finished, we went back to the cafe from the afternoon and drank US$3 mojitos and US$1 pints until we were drowsy and full, then it was time for bed.

Vietnam Trip, Day 1: First Impressions of Ho Chi Minh City and Phu Quoc Island

We arrived in Ho Chi Minh City too late to do–or eat–anything interesting. It was a Saturday night, so we thought we might go to a bar, but by the time we got our bearings, it was midnight, and the bars were closing. I was glad for it, because I was wearing my comfortable clothes from the plane, and the women leaving the bar were dressed in little black and red dresses. J was disappointed, but we went to the Circle K and it had WiFi. We ate instant noodles and shrimp chips and looked up articles on the best beer to drink in Vietnam. We liked the Saigon Special better than the 333.

A photo posted by Keili Rae Gunden (@amateur_vagrant) on

Our hotel room at the Iris was small, but fine for the night. We only needed it to be near the airport. There were plenty of pho places around, but we didn’t know how to order and I was worried about getting food poisoning before our flight to Phu Quoc, after what happened in Cambodia. (I got food poisoning and was wretchedly sick for 24 hours.)

The next morning, the cafes were open all over the neighborhood. We asked for a suggestion from the front desk and she said the place across the street was excellent, and offered the security guard’s services to help us cross. There were no traffic lights and not a little traffic, but J managed to get us across just fine. I had a baguette with fried eggs and J had the beef and green peppers with French fries. We each had coffee and it was excellent Then we crossed back again and walked down the street to another cafe where Jeremy ordered an iced coffee while I finished my cigarette. When I got inside, I realized we were in the same franchise we’d just left, just a shop on the other side of the road. The coffee was really that good.

After Vietnamese coffee, I was most looking forward to a real banh mi sandwich. The were available the Circle K between six a.m. and ten p.m., but I didn’t think that a convenience-store banh mi ranked as an authentic on, even in Vietnam. When we landed in Phu Quoc, we had another coffee at the airport cafe, and ordered a banh mi sandwich to go with it. It was made with lettuce and mayonnaise, and they microwaved it, and it was horrible and I was mad that we’d spent any money on it at all.

A photo posted by Keili Rae Gunden (@amateur_vagrant) on

J had booked us a room in a beautiful little resort that had a number of little bungalows around a pool. It being the end of the off-season, he got the room for very cheap. I message them ahead of time to let them know it was J’s 40th birthday, and when arrived, they had prepared a mango panna cotta and written “Happy birthday, Jeremy” very inexpertly. Because you can’t stick candles in panna cotta, they were stuck to the table with a bit of melted wax in a ring around the dish. It was all very cute and the extra effort was much appreciated.

That night, we ate dinner in the resort restaurant. Afterwards, we drank the mini bar beers and beers from room service. Everything was so cheap that it felt like we were rich and famous.