I'd been under the impression that trains are useless in Vietnam--they run on narrow tracks of an ancient French design, so they're terribly slow and crowded. Maybe that's just the train from Hanoi to Ho Chi Minh City. Anyway, here we are boarding a train to Mui Ne: a beach resort town directly East of us.
We're on the "first class" compartment, though once a kid pukes next to you you're back to 5th class. And when he pukes before the train even starts, that may be 6th class. The trip back was on the local compartment, and the joke is its exactly the same minus a complimentary Banh Mi and Hot Dog. Anyway, we're about to enjoy 3 B's: bickering, bread, and birds. Or maybe only I will enjoy birds. On a rushing train, it's hard to identify anything, but I got the quickest life-bird ever: a long tailed shrike. It was a shrike with a long tail. Piece of cake.
The scenery from a moving train is compelling, but unfortunately very unphotogenic, filthy windows notwithstanding. We're passing by quaint villages, corrugated metal huts, dusty towns with tan to bright red-ochre dust, water buffalo holes, rice paddies in various stages of production, and here a little hut by a rubber tree farm.
And, closer to Mui Ne, many dragonfruit "orchards." These are made from verticle reinforced concrete beams with about four snakey dragonfruit cacti growing up the sides and blossoming over the top. I was to learn that there is a green, thick skinned variety that is much sweeter than the usual rose-pink.
4.5 hours later we're at the honeymoon suite at the Sea Lion resort! Which is 2 floors away from Jenny's parents own honeymoon suite. And now, it's time to take care of serious business...
Noodles. Jenny's parents haven't been out much, and haven't grasped the idea that when at a luxury resort you eat OUT. So they packed a huge yet lightweight bag full of noodles.
The resort itself is gorgeous, yet the same as resorts everywhere: some garden paths through some flowering laurels, plumerias and some laden papaya trees to a crystal clear pool one step away from the beach.
Here's a little pond squeaking and burping with frog-song during the night.
And, completely unappreciated by all, birds. This olive-backed sunbird was right over our heads, all-too happy to pose for us.
As if there was room for more sparrows in the world: a plain-backed sparrow. Another house-sparrow spinoff, but a life-bird for me.
You can rent a bike for $1 per 2 hours--why not? There is one road along the beach in Mui Ne which is basically there to serve the many resorts. There are plenty of horrifically expensive tourist shops, spas of a dubious nature, tourist shops catering to those of the Russian persuasion, and some expat cafes. I don't like them--they seem to cater to the home-sick.
And plenty of Green Bee-Eaters. What a crazy bird--built entirely for the human eye, wings bearing a shimmering gold. There are plenty of tall sand dunes around, which no doubt is great nesting habitat for them.
Animals burst forth at night. These huge scarabs are everywhere, leaving their child-squashed corpses in the morning. Better yet, the termite mounds spewed swarms of flying termites. It was like snow falling. At an outdoor restaurant I was watching a wall gecko fill its belly with them.
And plenty of adorable toads! Although they seemed amazingly oblivious to the swarms of poorly flying termites and were after ants.
After a long dinner of accidentally swallowed termites and scarabs, it's time for a serious breakfast.
And exactly 2 hours later, swimming!
And then more noodles. This time of a particularly complicated variety "made with Japanese Technology!!!"
And at night, we went to a famous local seafood restaurant. This is a sad-looking Slipper Lobster (here they call it a Tiger Lobster, who knows why). It looks like a fast creature, because its head is modified into a tail fluke--the actual tail being the forward propulsion limb. It is very tasty and makes a good meal--hardly any gross parts, just lots of tail meat. The spiny lobsters are a complete waste--a small tail with a large gut-filled carapace, and not even any claw meat.
The prices are stupendously high for Vietnamese food. Where 120,000d will get you a multi-course large and yummy meal, here 4 to 700,000d will only get you a kilo of crab or lobster. You find out the prices while you are in a dim torture-like chamber which they call an "aquarium" as they hand over your live slipper lobsters as if they were puppies for sale. I'm sorry to say I had a bit of turtle shock at the price, which got Jenny really, really mad. She punished me by forcing me to eat a whole plate of Calamari. Not the rings and tentacle kind--the "just throw the buggers into the pot: guts, brains, egg-cases, ink-glands, squid-bone, eyes, beak and all" variety. My squid comparative anatomy is spotty enough, and I'd it like to stay that way, thank you very much. They tasted like squid well enough, but the process of eating them is awful--just awful.
Sharing the camera with some Vietnamese gogo singers makes Jenny feel a little better.
I'd been under the impression that trains are useless in Vietnam--they run on narrow tracks of an ancient French design, so they're terribly slow and crowded. Maybe that's just the train from Hanoi to Ho Chi Minh City. Anyway, here we are boarding a train to Mui Ne: a beach resort town directly East of us.
We're on the "first class" compartment, though once a kid pukes next to you you're back to 5th class. And when he pukes before the train even starts, that may be 6th class. The trip back was on the local compartment, and the joke is its exactly the same minus a complimentary Banh Mi and Hot Dog. Anyway, we're about to enjoy 3 B's: bickering, bread, and birds. Or maybe only I will enjoy birds. On a rushing train, it's hard to identify anything, but I got the quickest life-bird ever: a long tailed shrike. It was a shrike with a long tail. Piece of cake.
The scenery from a moving train is compelling, but unfortunately very unphotogenic, filthy windows notwithstanding. We're passing by quaint villages, corrugated metal huts, dusty towns with tan to bright red-ochre dust, water buffalo holes, rice paddies in various stages of production, and here a little hut by a rubber tree farm.
And, closer to Mui Ne, many dragonfruit "orchards." These are made from verticle reinforced concrete beams with about four snakey dragonfruit cacti growing up the sides and blossoming over the top. I was to learn that there is a green, thick skinned variety that is much sweeter than the usual rose-pink.
4.5 hours later we're at the honeymoon suite at the Sea Lion resort! Which is 2 floors away from Jenny's parents own honeymoon suite. And now, it's time to take care of serious business...
Noodles. Jenny's parents haven't been out much, and haven't grasped the idea that when at a luxury resort you eat OUT. So they packed a huge yet lightweight bag full of noodles.
The resort itself is gorgeous, yet the same as resorts everywhere: some garden paths through some flowering laurels, plumerias and some laden papaya trees to a crystal clear pool one step away from the beach.
Here's a little pond squeaking and burping with frog-song during the night.
And, completely unappreciated by all, birds. This olive-backed sunbird was right over our heads, all-too happy to pose for us.
As if there was room for more sparrows in the world: a plain-backed sparrow. Another house-sparrow spinoff, but a life-bird for me.
You can rent a bike for $1 per 2 hours--why not? There is one road along the beach in Mui Ne which is basically there to serve the many resorts. There are plenty of horrifically expensive tourist shops, spas of a dubious nature, tourist shops catering to those of the Russian persuasion, and some expat cafes. I don't like them--they seem to cater to the home-sick.
And plenty of Green Bee-Eaters. What a crazy bird--built entirely for the human eye, wings bearing a shimmering gold. There are plenty of tall sand dunes around, which no doubt is great nesting habitat for them.
Animals burst forth at night. These huge scarabs are everywhere, leaving their child-squashed corpses in the morning. Better yet, the termite mounds spewed swarms of flying termites. It was like snow falling. At an outdoor restaurant I was watching a wall gecko fill its belly with them.
And plenty of adorable toads! Although they seemed amazingly oblivious to the swarms of poorly flying termites and were after ants.
After a long dinner of accidentally swallowed termites and scarabs, it's time for a serious breakfast.
And exactly 2 hours later, swimming!
And then more noodles. This time of a particularly complicated variety "made with Japanese Technology!!!"
And at night, we went to a famous local seafood restaurant. This is a sad-looking Slipper Lobster (here they call it a Tiger Lobster, who knows why). It looks like a fast creature, because its head is modified into a tail fluke--the actual tail being the forward propulsion limb. It is very tasty and makes a good meal--hardly any gross parts, just lots of tail meat. The spiny lobsters are a complete waste--a small tail with a large gut-filled carapace, and not even any claw meat.
The prices are stupendously high for Vietnamese food. Where 120,000d will get you a multi-course large and yummy meal, here 4 to 700,000d will only get you a kilo of crab or lobster. You find out the prices while you are in a dim torture-like chamber which they call an "aquarium" as they hand over your live slipper lobsters as if they were puppies for sale. I'm sorry to say I had a bit of turtle shock at the price, which got Jenny really, really mad. She punished me by forcing me to eat a whole plate of Calamari. Not the rings and tentacle kind--the "just throw the buggers into the pot: guts, brains, egg-cases, ink-glands, squid-bone, eyes, beak and all" variety. My squid comparative anatomy is spotty enough, and I'd it like to stay that way, thank you very much. They tasted like squid well enough, but the process of eating them is awful--just awful.
Sharing the camera with some Vietnamese gogo singers makes Jenny feel a little better.
No comments:
Post a Comment