My First Time Visiting Ho Chi Minh City, Vietnam
Occasionally, there are cheap tickets from Brisbane, Australia, to HCM, most of which are standard red-eye flights. You will leave around midnight in Australia and arrive in the early morning Vietnam time, exhausted, after having been strapped into an economy chair designed for an adult no taller than 5 feet and with an aching neck that’s as crooked as a politician.
Vietjet doesn’t offer much, but the prices are budget-friendly, and they get you where you want to go.
Arriving on my British passport, I was afforded 45 days in Vietnam without a visa. After getting off the flight and having straightened myself out, I made my way to passport control, where I was confronted with one of the biggest queues I’ve ever seen. I finally got through the main section which eventually broke up into multiple lines whereby I had to choose my next line to wait in. Over time more queues opened up and masses of people would migrate from their current line to the newly opened one. My particular line was moving slowly but I was reluctant to make the jump to another. I noticed that a family that was a long way back in the original queue had split up into three different lines and eventually all came back together when one of the family members was close to the border control official. Clearly, there were strategies at play and it made me wonder how many others were standing in as false proxies for their larger families.
I always try to pick the fastest queue and seem to end up in the slowest, maybe I should choose the one I think will move the slowest, and it’ll be the opposite.
The man in front of me had a small carry-on bag, was wearing some scruffy clothes and seemed a little uneasy. After about 10 minutes of what looked like an impatient waiting dance, he turned around and in a thick American accent asked me if this was my first time in Vietnam, I quietly replied “Yes” and wondered why he had practically shouted at me. He wanted to know what my plans were, I told him “to see the sights, eat the pho, and take some pictures” in a robotic fashion; I’d been asked this a few times already. He then bellowed – “You’re gonna have a great time!” He said this was his fifth visit and asked if I’d sorted out accommodation yet. I had already, but told him that I would sort something out when I got into the city centre, not wanting to give away where I was staying. He offered to share a car into the city and said I could book a room at his accommodation, I politely declined. Something seemed off about this; my gut was saying, “Just make small talk, but steer clear.” I didn’t want the border officials to think we were travelling together in case this bloke was up to something dodgy.
LOL, it’s funny the stories your brain comes up with.
I finally get through border control and make my way to the exit but stop first to get a SIM card from one of the many little stalls scattered about the airport. It seems that from all angles, someone is calling out to you, “Sir, sir, SIM card, sir?! Taxi, sir?! Grab, sir?!” I had read from a blog before arriving in HCM that I should download the Grab app and use that when booking any transport, as everyone will try to take advantage of an ignorant tourist and even knowing this, I almost got scammed.
I booked a car through the app and made my way to the pickup zone. It was HOT, and HUMID, and there was a smoky haziness about the place. I chucked my stuff into a stylish brand-new Kia SUV and left the airport behind. I noticed immediately that the traffic was unlike anything I had ever seen before. (I would later be told by an Indian traveller from Goa that the traffic in Vietnam is nothing compared to India.) There are motorbikes everywhere (some loaded with 4 or 5 people), and in the car, they all seemed to swerve and flow around you like a school of fish. I wondered how long the driver had had this new Kia and how long it would stay in its current condition. I asked the driver about the haze all around us, and with his limited English, he said, “always like this.” I guessed that it was from the volume of daily traffic.
I arrived at my accommodation; it was a budget-friendly shoebox room where you had to go through the back of a small banh mi cafe / bakery and up an elevator. Each room has its own key card, a single bed, and a small shelf-like desk. Amenities included a shared bathroom with two fancy toilets that had more functions than a modern-day coffee machine; seat warmer, adjustable bidet with variable pressures and oscillating settings, a blow dryer, and an automatic sensor that sprays a liquid onto the water below (something I’ve seen officials do for professional cliff divers jumping into the ocean from great heights) and hot water showers – which I would later find out is a luxury when travelling throughout Asia.
I was shattered, so I quickly tried all the toilet functions, had a shower, and went for a nap.
After a few hours and feeling weary, I headed down to the ground level and ordered a Vietnamese coffee with condensed milk and a banh mi from the bakery. This was the famous meat and vege in a freshly baked roll I’d heard so much about, and it didn’t disappoint. I wolfed down my first and ordered a second. Afterwards, I typed in the War Remnants Museum in Google Maps and decided I would walk there. If you have never been to Ho Chi Minh City before, just getting around is an experience of its own. Throw out the textbook of the life rules you’ve consciously and subconsciously learnt living in Western countries.
It takes a lot of courage to undo years of “programming” and cross the streets of HCM as a pedestrian.
In Ho Chi Minh City the Zebra crossings can sometimes traverse up to 5 lanes of traffic without any lights. If one was to wait for a gap in the traffic they would likely never make it to the other side. I had previously watched a video on Instagram of people crossing a busy road in HCM and not even looking, the advice they had given was to just “go steady and not to stop”. Apparently, the traffic would naturally swerve around you if you went steadily, but stopping suddenly could confuse motorists and cause an accident. I stood at the side of one particular road crossing and was completely paralysed with fear. I couldn’t see how it’d be possible that I’d make it to the other side intact when suddenly this old lady from behind me started to cross. The lady was pushing a small food cart and didn’t look phased by the magnitude of oncoming traffic, she glanced back at me, smiled and probably thought how amusing it was to see tourists freeze up. I took that as my queue to dart out and join her, thinking we’d be safer in numbers.
I decide shortly after that it would be much easier to get around the city if I booked a Grab motorcyle taxi, which I ended up doing time and time again.
This was the start of my journey and I’m grateful to share it. Thanks for reading and stay tuned for more. – The Humble Traveller
