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| The sun rising over District 1 |
The time had come to leave China on a weekend visa run. After toying with the idea of either riding the Trans-Siberian to Moscow, chilling in Tokyo, or pigging out in Taipei, I was eventually moved to return to Saigon, a city that has a tight grip on my heart. And by my heart, I mean my stomach. My sojourn there was also the raison d'être for this blog. The almost two years that have elapsed have been a cruel test to see how many mediocre bowls of pho I can consume (even in California) before going crazy. The withdrawal was too much to bear; I had to go back. To sweeten the deal, I recruited my dear college roommate, who had joined me on many pho runs and heard me blabber endlessly about Vietnam for three years, to indulge in some good old gluttony.
Each time I land in Saigon, the more in love with it I fall. The more I wonder how and when I will go back. Yet the first emotion I felt upon touching down at Tan Son Nhat Airport an hour late at 2am was utter panic. I had a bus to catch to the seaside at 7:30am, and even still I wanted to hit up Pho Hung (open until 3am; first discovered by word of mouth from my Japanese hair stylist Ohama-san's Vietnamese wife) and Pho Quynh (open 24/7; to be honest, I've never even been here, but its hours would have made for the perfect round two) before daybreak. Would I make it to downtown in time for two rounds of pho? I'd drawn up detailed plans for my 72 hours in the country, and they absolutely had to materialize.
As I spent the next hour waiting for the workers at the visa on arrival desk to put a full-page sticker in my passport, I couldn't help but be reminded by the lesson I learned on my first day living in Saigon: "Oh, how misguided and naive I can be." This is Saigon we're talking about, not Singapore; efficiency does not figure in the local lexicon.
No, we did not make it to a single pho restaurant before daybreak. But at least I remembered how to properly enjoy Vietnam, which is to say without pretense that anything will occur according to schedule. That's not always a bad thing.
Bright and early at 7:30am, we arrived at the Phuong Trang bus stop by Bui Vien - Highland Coffee iced coffee with milk and banh mi in hand - waiting for our bus that would plod the 200km route to the coastal town of Phan Thiet. I'd been out to Phan Thiet before and recalled that the bus took an excruciatingly long seven hours, even on the national highway. A local friend reassured me that a new highway had been built and that the travel time had been halved to around four hours. I figured I could afford eight precious hours out of a 72 hour weekend to get to and from Phan Thiet.
Shortly after 7:30, our bus arrived. Instead of sporting the 2-2 rows I was expecting, the bus was fitted with sleeper seats stacked two high that reclined 160 degrees. Immediately, the setup alerted me to the possibility that this journey would be just as long as last time. While fairly cramped, the sleeper seat still managed to enable some much-needed shuteye. When not sleeping, I lounged lazily and stared out at the ever-present crowds waving Vietnamese flags and greeting the motorcades that whizzed by all along the national highway to celebrate the 40th anniversary of the Fall/Liberation of Saigon.
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| Some provisions for the road: banh mi and Highland Coffee |
Well past my preconceived ETA of 11:30am, I began thinking about all the delicious food I would be eating in Phan Thiet. As fate would have it, I noticed the guy in the adjacent bunk searching "Ăn gì ở Phan Thiết" (What to eat in Phan Thiet) and "món ngon Phan Thiết" (delicious food in Phan Thiet) on his tablet. We started chatting, and next thing I knew, he offered his list of recommendations for tasty treats in Phan Thiet, including banh canh noodles, goi ca (raw fish), mi quang, banh keo, and banh can. That definitely got me excited to arrive in Phan Thiet and pig out on seafood.
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| Restaurant recommendations from my fellow foodie bus mate |
After a rest stop bowl of reasonably tasty hu tieu Nam Vang to keep hunger at bay, we arrived in Phan Thiet in time to tour the ground of the expansive Victoria Resort (the same chain as the hotel I crashed in Hoi An) before sunset. As expected, the place was stunning.
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View from the bungalow
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Following 18 hours in transit to get to this town, we spent the first day alternating between vegging out on the resort's massage tables getting the post-graduation knots on our backs worked out (side note: I strongly advise against getting a full body massage immediately after sampling everything on a spread of Franco-Viet delicacies) and swimming in the ocean, the infinity pool, and the free form pool. Dinner was included in the spa package, so we had an unnecessarily refined seafood dinner at the hotel. Up until the moment we walked in, the dining room was entirely made up of Russians; not a single Vietnamese in sight. Learning from the rookie mistake, we resolved to gorge on seafood the local way on day 2.
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| Restaurant Mr. Crab on Ham Tien |
Practically all the restaurants on Ham Tien (aka Nguyen Dinh Chieu, the main drag in town) serve some of the freshest and most succulent seafood I've ever tasted. We stumbled upon Mr. Crab, which despite not offering much by way of decor sports a fine sea view that more than compensates.
Ordering took place by the dozens of seafood tanks out front in a bizarre melange of Mandarin, English, and Vietnamese.
Once the dishes were settled, we proceeded to feast on an incredibly fresh assortment of seafood.
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| Huge steamed lobster tails with a side of lime and pepper, paired with garlic sautéed morning glory |
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| Grilled oysters topped with green onion and oil |
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| Grilled squid |
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Fishing boats dotting the Phan Thiet/Mui Ne coastline
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| ...featuring steep bluffs to drive down on an ATV |
At one point, two guides brought us to the top of one of the highest and steepest dunes. It was quite a site to behold -- a sea of smooth sand juxtaposed against the glistening azure sea. Silence, at last.
Then when we had taken in enough of the view, we turned to our guides, who said, "You want to go down? A million dong (~US$50). Each." We'd already paid these dudes the rate their boss quoted, mind you. After some back and forth bickering, I managed to bring the bribe down to 200,000 dong (~US$10) per person. While ordinarily I'd be pissed as hell about this, I figured the post-negotiation price reasonable enough to pay in order to spare myself from tumbling down the dune on a rickety, poorly maintained ATV. I wasn't about to have some unscrupulous kids ruin my afternoon. Once again, I forgot I was in Vietnam. I love the place, but it's plainly obvious why Vietnam only musters a 5% return rate for tourists when Thailand's is a robust 50%.
Back in Phan Thiet, we hit up Cay Bang for round two of seafood.
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Cay Bang is located at the start of the Ham Tien stretch, at No. 2 Nguyen Dinh Chieu
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The day I end up with cholesterol problems (and at this rate, it'd be a miracle if I don't get them) will be a very sad day. But until then, I continue living for meals like these. Flabbergastingly simple, yet immensely satisfying. Grilled prawn dipped in salt and lime juice, grilled whole squid smeared with the ubiquitous Southeast Asian "orange sauce," grilled scallops popped into my mouth like candy, pieces of fish fished out from the soup and dunked into pure fish sauce... all paired with a Saigon Beer... this was bliss. But of course, there is such thing as too much of a good thing. Before I could even really tuck into the fried rice, morning glory, and the pot of soup, my body had already quit. Where did my expandable stomach go when I needed it the most? After a few perfunctory yet tasty bites, I resigned to burping uncomfortably for the rest of the evening. Such is the life of a glutton: merely hastening my descent into the Third Circle of hell.
The following day, after several more rounds of Victoria massages and one final Franco-Viet breakfast spread, we returned to Saigon by way of a speedy four-hour car ride that took advantage of the newly constructed (and heavily tolled) highway. (For what it's worth, we skipped out on our return ticket with Futa Bus, and the bus line actually called to make sure we were ok. Totally commend them for being on top of it!) Time was of the essence, so upon arriving in the city at 3pm - a short 13 hours before I'd have to board my return flight - we completed the circuit of what I like to call the Best of Saigon:
3:00pm: Phuc Long for Vietnamese Iced Coffee with Milk
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| Best cà phê sữa đá bar none -- who knew cheap Robusta beans could taste this good? |
5:00pm: Quynh Nhu 137 for a Full Body Massage
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| Replete with hot stones on your back, stepping on your back, and much more. No funny business here. |
7:00pm: Pho Le for the Best Southern-Style Pho
10:00pm: Huynh Hoa for the Best Banh Mi
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Is it just me, or is every sign in Saigon green and red?
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10:00pm: Huynh Hoa for the Best Banh Mi
Upon hearing that the banh mi ladies over at Huynh Hoa routinely run out of ingredients by 10:30-11pm, we beelined over.
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| Like Pho Le, Huynh Hoa does not skimp on the meat. |
Stuffed in a toasted crunchy-on-the-outside-and-soft-on-the-inside baguette, the Huynh Hoa ladies smeared pâté, mayo, cha lua, pork floss, cucumber, cilantro, pickled daikon, and pickled carrots to make a monster of a sandwich. The only request I'd make next time is no chilis; I did not need nor appreciate the fiery inferno blast.
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| Yum! |
11:00pm: Rooftop Bar OMG!
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| A new rooftop bar sprung up just next to Ben Thanh Market, offering views of downtown Saigon with only a fraction of Chill and Alto's prices |
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| Over by the strip of red light on the 52nd floor of Bitexco (the tallest building) sits my old haunt Alto, which faces the helipad (which, last I checked, is never used because helicopters aren't allowed in Saigon airspace) |
1:00am: Pho Ha for the Best Northern-Style Pho and Fried Chicken Sticky Rice
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| Ungarnished and light pho ga (chicken pho) on the left; bun thang (chicken vermicelli) on the right |
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| Fried chicken on a bed of crispy sticky rice and chicken floss |
After a successful - yet still too short - night in Saigon, it was time to head back to the land of greasy, overly-seasoned, and disenchanting food (Beijing). How long will it be until I can taste Pho Le's sweet and complex nepenthe of a broth once more?
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