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.
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