Greetings from Mui Ne. The last half day of Saigon was hot... We walked from the hotel to the War Remnants museum which documents the Vietnam war. The place was extremely anti-American, which is surprising because it's in the south of Vietnam. There was a full room on the effects of agent orange, but no documented cases of it causing middle aged men to drive around in nothing but tighty whities and cut the pool linings of neighbors who take liberties with zoning regulations.
At some point during the museum trip I thought that street food had gotten the best of me and I had to run and commit atrocities against the museum bathroom that were only slightly less disturbing than the war crimes documented elsewhere in the building.
After the museum it was time for a stroll back to catch the bus to Mui Ne. Before the bus we grabbed some Bahn Mi... a mystery meat sandwich on French bread that's a holdover from the French occupation of the country way back when. Delicious and didn't cause bowel disturbance. I'll call that a double win.
The bus of course followed the immutable law of third world country bus travel: The trip will take 1.5 times the quoted duration and the A/C will either be so weak as to not be there or be so strong that you can't sleep cause your sweatshirt is in the big backpack underneath the bus. (It didn't work this time. The swamp ass was at an all time high.) The first night in Mui Ne didn't have much to offer and we were beat from the bus so it was a meal and then bedtime.
Vietnam is funny. English isn't as prevalent here as in Thailand, but tourism is becoming more and more prominent. As a result you run into a lot of situations where people are trying to make you happy, but have no idea what you're talking about. Case in point, breakfast the first full day in Mui Ne. Tried to order some breakfast item, ended up with a glass full of yogurt with ice... Anyway, then we rented mopeds and drove about an hour to a surf spot. The ride was surreal. There are beautiful bays filled with old fishing boats and red sand dunes that my camera couldn't seem to figure out were red.
We pulled up to what seemed to be a deserted beach town and ordered lunch... Brian shot for a panini and ended up with a plate of sliced tomatoes and fake cheese. Swing and a miss. After lunch we attempted some stand up paddleboarding. It was a comical failure and I managed to rip my foot open on some trash in the water. Sweet.
A shirtless ride home inspired an idea for a short story about a gay moped gang. Maybe the Hell's Anals? Not sure, but it needs to be written. Back at the hostel we met a pretty cute group of girls with one fat friend. As we were talking, the idea came up that liking fat chicks is the key to a happy life. I think that's gonna be main lesson that I try to impart to my son. You can live like a king if you're into other peoples' trash.
Anyway, we went out to dinner with a huge group from the hotel. It would seem that connections started to be made. Will was on some cute Vancouver broad and there were two Irish girls that weren't ideal, but hey, sometimes you take what you can get.
From dinner we all went to drink on the beach and more and more of the busted hit parade came out to party... Whatever, sometimes you gotta build a nucleus create a gravitational pull and up your odds later in the evening. The whole group went off to a club on the beach. (Drift Inn thoughts were splashed all over my brain. People seemed confused when I started slapping the walls.)
Anyway... the gravity theory worked and I met some really cute broad from Texas. She didn't seem bothered when I introduced myself by laying down on her bean bag chair and resting my head on her inner thigh so I figured it was on.
Of course, a good thing wasn't meant to last. Brian wanted to start up some dancing... and damn it I was in. Unfortunately, Texas wasn't. So we hit the floor with some acceptable Irish girls and were out there for quite a bit. When I came off the floor, Texas was with another dude... so I figured I was done.
Back to the Irish girl, chatting on the beach, about three minutes in she proudly states that she's never had a one night stand and doesn't plan on starting now. And... bounce. Will, Brian, and I head home with the Vancougar and two other older chicks, but immediately lose the Vancougar upon arriving at the hostel.
Brian and I weren't giving up that easy though. A pack of cards and a bottle of vodka is all you need for some strip poker action. Except we were the only ones willing to get naked. After about an hour of banging our heads against a very fat and German wall, it was time to wake up a clearly miffed waitress at a 24 hour restaurant and eat a chicken sandwich. In retrospect, I think we were more satisfied with the sandwich, but however long you've been playing the game, strike outs still hurt.
And to add insult to injury, on the walk home from feeding, I hear a girl yell, "Hey, NEW YORK!" It's none other than Texas, riding on a moped taxi home alone.
GOO.
Thursday, April 7, 2011
Tuesday, April 5, 2011
Was that a hooker?
Why Scrotations you ask? No real reason except for that while I was rotating the globe I got to pondering my scrotum. I feel like I could sit around for 3 days at hơme without my balls starting to smell. I'm curious why it is that I would pass out from the stench if i did a split after a four hour stretch in an airplane. Life is a mystery I guess.
Anyway... 32 hours of travel, not fun. Even less fun with a cold. An probably even less fun for the people I spent the day hacking all over. First flight was uneventful... A wine/ambien combination put me down for the count. Then came the eight hour layover in Moscow. I timed it and I think I walked 12 miles pacing the airport. It's a meritocracy over there. The more expensive stores were manned by the hotter women, and there were some smoke shows. So many, that at one point I excused myself to a handicapped bathroom to rub one out. I felt guilty for a bit, but they shouldn't force a horny man into a layover like that. My only real regret is not finding a partner for the session. I made the best of it though, talked to my dong like Johnny Drama.
Second flight it seemed as if I was going to have a row of seats to myself and then a hot French girl asked to share. She was a casino dealer in Switzerland. We talked, watched Social Network together, and then I touched her while she slept. Juuuuuuuust kidding. About the talking part. She didn't really speak English. By the way, James compared me to the Napster character in Social Network. I'm proud of that, but not sure why, cause on the surface it's pretty insulting.
Anyway... After landing in Hanoi, I hopped a flight to Saigon. It was pretty empty but I was in a row next to a hot Vietnamese chick. I motioned that I was going to the other row so that I could stretch out. For some reason she followed me and we spent the next two hours trying to communicate. She kept touching me and I would be lying if I said that I didn't check my carry on to see if I had domes for the mile high.
Then I started thinking, is this a prostitute? In the likely a prostitute column I would list: Vietnamese, followed me to the other row of seats, touched me a lot. In not a prostitute column would go: asked for my number instead of going for the mile high while we were on the plane. She's not a fucking layaway plan. Wouldn't she want to get paid as quickly as possible? Also, she had really intricately painted toe nails, but I'm not sure that that means anything. I'll have to get Fogarty to weigh in. (Comments section mainly)
Anyway, got to Saigon. Insane city. People tear around on mopeds in any given direction. They look like schools of fish. I didn't see a traffic light until 15 minutes in a cab. I checked into the hostel and had to kill some time before the lads got in from Cambodia so I went to get a bowl of Pho. I'll upload some pics later, but let me say in advance that there is a straw in the picture, which I would usually consider kind of fruity. But, everything is dirty as shit here and if I"m gonna get dysentery it's gonna be from some crazy street food/urchin, not the lid of a diet coke. The Pho was decent, not great. I'm looking for a better spot today.
Anyway, on the way back I found my buddies and we started to drink. It was 4pm Saigon time, 5am NYC time at this point, so I was a touch delirious. We planned the rest of our time before Malaysia and Bali (Mui Ne, Nha Trang, Hanoi) and walked around looking for a spot for the evening. Eventually we got hungry and went to a restaurant that was suggested by our man in SE Asia, the one and only Nhi Tran. I was insane/brownout at this point so no pictures, but it was a lot of stewed meats, noodles and roll your own spring rolls. The place was filled with wealthy Vietnamese so it was legit.
After dinner we walked back and started boozing. The backpacker scene is weak here.
Really no hot girls except for hookers. We get snuck a bottle of three dollar bottle into the club and sauced until we were almost ejected and beaten with these semi flaccid night sticks that the security guards carry. The place stayed dead and we hopped a cab to Apocalypse Now which is just an amazing club name. I wonder if it would be as good if it wasn't in Saigon.
Also, after cabbing it to places and then walking home twice I can safely say that if you take a taxi in this city, you will get run up. Granted, the fare is never more than six bucks, but it's still annoying.
Apo, as the locals call it was a hooker factory, but we managed to find two hot Australian/Asians by pretending that we were Australian. They were with some American douche who was spouting stupid philosophies about not really being alive in America. I was too tired to even fuck with him, but I did manage to take one of the girls on the dance floor. I again was almost ejected and beaten when I picked her up by the ass and the staff mistook her as a working girl who I was abusing.
We parted ways and went back to the first bar which was dead except for these two gross broads that my buddies had previously met on a bus. They were trying to smash, but I made up crazy lies and told them I was this black guy that I go to school with, then told them to facebook me and ran away.
Finally, at 3pm NYC time... bed. Up this morning at 5:30 because of the time difference. I snuck into a gym at one of the nicest hotels in the city to kill times while the boys were still passed out. You can take the guido out of Long Island, etc...
Now after my backpacker breakfast of fruit and yogurt (no granola here... again inferior to Bangkok) I'm writing it all down.
Big market and war museum today... then off to the beach...
Anyway... 32 hours of travel, not fun. Even less fun with a cold. An probably even less fun for the people I spent the day hacking all over. First flight was uneventful... A wine/ambien combination put me down for the count. Then came the eight hour layover in Moscow. I timed it and I think I walked 12 miles pacing the airport. It's a meritocracy over there. The more expensive stores were manned by the hotter women, and there were some smoke shows. So many, that at one point I excused myself to a handicapped bathroom to rub one out. I felt guilty for a bit, but they shouldn't force a horny man into a layover like that. My only real regret is not finding a partner for the session. I made the best of it though, talked to my dong like Johnny Drama.
Second flight it seemed as if I was going to have a row of seats to myself and then a hot French girl asked to share. She was a casino dealer in Switzerland. We talked, watched Social Network together, and then I touched her while she slept. Juuuuuuuust kidding. About the talking part. She didn't really speak English. By the way, James compared me to the Napster character in Social Network. I'm proud of that, but not sure why, cause on the surface it's pretty insulting.
Anyway... After landing in Hanoi, I hopped a flight to Saigon. It was pretty empty but I was in a row next to a hot Vietnamese chick. I motioned that I was going to the other row so that I could stretch out. For some reason she followed me and we spent the next two hours trying to communicate. She kept touching me and I would be lying if I said that I didn't check my carry on to see if I had domes for the mile high.
Then I started thinking, is this a prostitute? In the likely a prostitute column I would list: Vietnamese, followed me to the other row of seats, touched me a lot. In not a prostitute column would go: asked for my number instead of going for the mile high while we were on the plane. She's not a fucking layaway plan. Wouldn't she want to get paid as quickly as possible? Also, she had really intricately painted toe nails, but I'm not sure that that means anything. I'll have to get Fogarty to weigh in. (Comments section mainly)
Anyway, got to Saigon. Insane city. People tear around on mopeds in any given direction. They look like schools of fish. I didn't see a traffic light until 15 minutes in a cab. I checked into the hostel and had to kill some time before the lads got in from Cambodia so I went to get a bowl of Pho. I'll upload some pics later, but let me say in advance that there is a straw in the picture, which I would usually consider kind of fruity. But, everything is dirty as shit here and if I"m gonna get dysentery it's gonna be from some crazy street food/urchin, not the lid of a diet coke. The Pho was decent, not great. I'm looking for a better spot today.
Anyway, on the way back I found my buddies and we started to drink. It was 4pm Saigon time, 5am NYC time at this point, so I was a touch delirious. We planned the rest of our time before Malaysia and Bali (Mui Ne, Nha Trang, Hanoi) and walked around looking for a spot for the evening. Eventually we got hungry and went to a restaurant that was suggested by our man in SE Asia, the one and only Nhi Tran. I was insane/brownout at this point so no pictures, but it was a lot of stewed meats, noodles and roll your own spring rolls. The place was filled with wealthy Vietnamese so it was legit.
After dinner we walked back and started boozing. The backpacker scene is weak here.
Really no hot girls except for hookers. We get snuck a bottle of three dollar bottle into the club and sauced until we were almost ejected and beaten with these semi flaccid night sticks that the security guards carry. The place stayed dead and we hopped a cab to Apocalypse Now which is just an amazing club name. I wonder if it would be as good if it wasn't in Saigon.
Also, after cabbing it to places and then walking home twice I can safely say that if you take a taxi in this city, you will get run up. Granted, the fare is never more than six bucks, but it's still annoying.
Apo, as the locals call it was a hooker factory, but we managed to find two hot Australian/Asians by pretending that we were Australian. They were with some American douche who was spouting stupid philosophies about not really being alive in America. I was too tired to even fuck with him, but I did manage to take one of the girls on the dance floor. I again was almost ejected and beaten when I picked her up by the ass and the staff mistook her as a working girl who I was abusing.
We parted ways and went back to the first bar which was dead except for these two gross broads that my buddies had previously met on a bus. They were trying to smash, but I made up crazy lies and told them I was this black guy that I go to school with, then told them to facebook me and ran away.
Finally, at 3pm NYC time... bed. Up this morning at 5:30 because of the time difference. I snuck into a gym at one of the nicest hotels in the city to kill times while the boys were still passed out. You can take the guido out of Long Island, etc...
Now after my backpacker breakfast of fruit and yogurt (no granola here... again inferior to Bangkok) I'm writing it all down.
Big market and war museum today... then off to the beach...
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)