Ho Chi Minh City, or as it’s more commonly known, Saigon. I got off of the sleeper train, I was unsurprisingly overrun by moto drivers looking for my business. Not wanting to spend another small fortune on a taxi, I agreed, and hopped on with a driver who would get me to my hotel for a mere 70,000d. Generally you pay less for a moto than a taxi, due to its…well, riskier nature…but at 4:30 in the morning, even Saigon traffic isn’t too overwhelming, and it was quite a pleasant drive through a city just waking up. My hostel was locked up for the night, but my driver yelled through the gate in Vietnamese until a sleepy receptionist appeared for just long enough to drop my bag into storage and tell me that I couldn’t check in until 2 p.m., before dropping back off to sleep. Not that I could blame him. I took his advice to “explore the city,” and by 5:00 I was out on the streets. This is where my love of Saigon began. Going out just as the sun came up and the temperature was still bearable, seeing the shop owners setting out their wares, the locals settling down for an early breakfast of pho, and the street food vendors preparing for the day among the city’s combination of green parks, western style skyscrapers, and barely navigable alleyways; hearing the honking horns begin, and seeing the traffic build from its semi-normal night self into it’s chaotic normalcy: this is what heaven must be like. I started at the beginning, the place where all tourists to Saigon must go. I got to Reunification Palace immediately after it opened, a beautiful place of lush greenery set among Saigon’s soaring business offices. Gated off from the rest of the city (and it’s motorbikes), the Palace is an oasis. A beautiful building, home to Ngo Dinh Diem (before being bombed and rebuilt), and later President Thieu, this is the site wherein 1975 the RVN flag was lowered and the VC flag proudly raised in its place (both are still on display inside the palace), and where Duong Van Minh, the President of the RVN (for a grand total of two days), officially handed over power to North Vietnamese officer Colonel Bui Tin in 1975, to which Bui Tin famously replied “There is no question of your giving up power. Your power has crumbled. You cannot give up what you do not have.” After the palace, I headed over to the War Remnants Museum, previously known as the Exhibition house for US and Puppet Crimes, the Exhibition House for Crimes of War and Aggression, and most recently the Museum of American and Chinese War Crimes, if that gives you any hint as to its contents. This was perhaps the best exhibit of any kind that I’ve seen since arriving in Vietnam. Somewhat less propaganda-ey than it’s counterpart to the north, it has four stories of exhibits including an entire floor dedicated to photojournalism during the war, and another on the negative effects of dioxin – Agent Orange – both past and present. And of course, outside, there is the requisite display of American aircraft captured during the war. After the museum I hit Pho 2000 for lunch. Although I didn’t realise until being seated inside, it's signed, advertising “Pho for the President,” are a reference to Bill Clinton’s visit to Vietnam when relations were normalised between the U.S. and Vietnam. Apparently, the then-president dropped by for a bowl of Pho, and the restaurant’s walls are now plastered with newspaper clippings and photographs of the staff with the President. The vegetarian pho, at least, was fit for a president, and successfully re-energized me. After lunch, I hit Ben Thanh Market, just across the street from Pho 2000. A market clearly aimed towards tourists, the prices were high, but anything and everything that a shopper could possibly want is to be found at Ben Thanh, and in a country where bargaining is the norm, high price tags can be remedied. Well, they can if you’re a better haggler than me, at least. I ended up with two items, both of which I managed to bargain down to the price which I would have paid for them at a regular market, but oh well. At least I tried, and in the end, it’s probably only a dollar or two difference anyway. A gift and a souvenir bought, I set back out on the streets. The city had picked up to its full pace at this point, and traffic was at its busiest. I wandered down Le Loi to the People’s Committee Building, saw the opera house, the post office, and the Saigon Notre-Dame Cathedral. All are beautiful old buildings built by the French, and all still in use, though the post office is the only one which is easy to enter. The opera house requires opera tickets, the Cathedral can be seen if you’re attending a church service, and the People’s Committee Building is a no-no at all times, so I made do with pictures of the gorgeous exteriors. After wandering the city and getting some more snacks courtesy of several street vendors and one pastry shop, I eventually made it to the Bitexco Financial Tower, a 68-story building with a 49th floor Skydeck. The $10 for the ticket was well worth it, and I spent nearly two hours soaking up the stunning 360° view of the city (which stretches as far as the eye can see in nearly every direction). By this point, I had been out and about for just shy of twelve hours, and knew at least the main streets of District 1 fairly well. I took the long way back to my hostel, where I checked in, and as soon as I made it into my poorly air-conditioned dorm room, proceeded to pass into blissful unconsciousness. Waking up around 7:00, I wanted to go get dinner, but knowing the dangers of wandering the streets of Saigon alone after dark, I made do with a small restaurant tucked away in my hostel’s alley. I had happened to see it earlier – Taj Mahal – and Indian food is good at all times, so I figured I’d at least glance at the menu. When I walked up, however, the restaurant's patrons consisted of several groups of Indian men appearing to be conducting various business deals, which seemed to be a pretty good advertisement, so I skipped the menu and walked straight in. The curried lentil soup and garlic naan made my tummy happy, and I went to bed early but contented. Author,Written and photos by Alexandra Starks
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