UGH.

Well, I don't try to present an all-glossy version of our travels, shiny perfection only and always, so this happened, too. We knew we had a tough day of travel from Can Tho to our spot in Thailand. Strangely, there are no flights from Can Tho to HCMC or Bangkok, so our plan was to be up at 4, take a cab to HCMC (estimated to be 4.5-ish hours), then fly to Bangkok, then during our long layover we thought we might leave the airport and get some real food, then back to the airport for the flight to Trat, then a car was picking us up for the hour-long ride to the hotel.

Although I didn't think it through specifically, if I had, I'd have also added long lines into each travel point: long lines leaving Vietnam, then immigration in Bangkok, and long security lines in each place too. Retrieving our suitcases in Bangkok, finding our way to departures and checking in there, another round of security lines.

But here is what happened. When I woke up at 4, I felt really really bad. Really bad. Like I'd been hit by a mack truck bad. Like after the truck hit me, a speeding train hit me. My head hurt so bad I could hardly stand it, my skin and hair and muscles and bones hurt, and my stomach was in trouble too. I tried to sleep in the car on the way to HCMC but was in such pain it was hard. We got to HCMC much more quickly than anticipated -- maybe because it was Sunday? -- which turned out to be good because of the lines. We pulled up to the curb, I dashed into the bathroom while Marc paid the driver and got our luggage, and we entered the airport.

We'd checked in online and only needed to drop our baggage, so Marc found the appropriate line -- not too long, really, considering -- and I found a place to sit because I just couldn't stand up. But it took forever. Really, I think he stood there for nearly an hour. Finally our bags were checked and we went to the security line, which was extremely long and snakey and very slow-moving. I just kept feeling like I couldn't do it, I was in such pain. I sat down on the floor, and stood up when the line moved and then sat back on the floor. Finally, a young Australian couple pretty far ahead of me asked if I wanted to get in front of them, and I gratefully accepted. I think I must have looked as bad as I felt.

I slept on chairs at the gate, and the flight from HCMC to Bangkok was only an hour long, and I tried to sleep there too. Sleep didn't help, it just got me away from the pain. Then the immigration line in Bangkok was horribly long, and the place was hot, and there was a patch of sun that was painful every time the line snaked back into it. I kept sitting on the floor, and felt like crying. Finally, a Thai man grabbed an airport employee and pointed to me and said something, and she allowed Marc and me to move nearer the front of the line. Such kind people looking out for me, pinpoints of light in a miserable day.

I don't remember the flight from Bangkok. I don't remember the Trat airport. I kind of remember the kind young driver who picked us up. I don't remember the drive to our hotel. I barely remember Judy, the woman who greeted us and ferried our bags from the cab, through the fishing village, and to our room. They had dinner waiting for us -- a crab curry -- but I just crawled into bed and passed out. Marc tucked me in and went down to the restaurant to eat the dinner they'd prepared, and he said it was amazing. Judy told me they'd have papaya seeds for me the next morning, which the locals eat to fix bad tummies. I barely remember Marc coming back to the room, and in the middle of the night I had to make a fast run to the bathroom, where I re-encountered that green onion/garlic/sprouts dish I'd eaten in Can Tho.

yeah. this one. saw it again.

The next morning I felt so much better, but never quite as good as I kept thinking I felt. I was overly optimistic -- upon waking, YES! All well! Then a bit of breakfast, and ugh maybe not yet all well.

So yeah, that happened too. Blessings to the kindness of strangers along the way, and to Marc who was so very kind and helpful to me the whole terrible day of travel, helping me with tenderness and kindness.

Can Tho, Vietnam

We weren't sure whether we'd been here before; on our Mekong Delta boat trip in 2011, we were never entirely sure where we were. Mr. Wong, our guide, spoke such heavily accented English -- and then the names of the places were so unfamiliar to us anyway -- so we just floated along and enjoyed ourselves whether we knew where we were, or not. Marc had been under the impression we'd come to Can Tho and I was slightly less sure, but when we got there we realized that nope, never been here before. Which is also good! A brand new place.

Can Tho is the largest city in the delta, and one thing it's known for is its floating markets. We'd gotten up at 4 for the early flight from Hanoi, and arrived in Can Tho mid-morning, hopeful that our room would be available before check-in, and it was. We stayed at the Victoria Can Tho, not a kind of hotel we usually stay at, but we chose it because it had a wonderful pool and was away from the busy hustle of the city -- Marc always thinks about what I will need since I get so easily overheated, and also overwhelmed by noise and chaos. So we started off with a quick dip in the pool:

this is early evening, obviously

The hotel is a ways from the center of town, but the hotel offers a shuttle boat that runs in the mornings and evenings; since we were right in that no-boat window, we walked into town to find a lunch spot. Over a bridge, into the busy city, we navigated our way to a place Marc had identified as a great lunch spot, and in fact he got some of the best fried chicken he'd ever had, called "backyard chicken" on the menu:

we've gotten good at eating in places that don't cater to tourists!

backyard chicken!

More pool-lying-about (you'll spot a theme here), and we took the shuttle boat back into town for dinner, which was a steamy hot affair, even though we got the lone table on the sidewalk.

our little shuttleboat, so cute!

benevolent Uncle Ho watches over all. our waiter made sure we noticed him too. 

a quick, steamy walk down the street to two bustling night markets -- the enclosed one, all in red.... 

and the street one. mostly for sale were various kinds of food and plastic junk

The next day, after breakfast, we shuttled into town to organize a trip to the floating markets. We were very proud of ourselves for getting it all done with minimal back-and-forthing. Then a very quick walk through sweltering streets and back to the hotel for more swimming and sun-lounging. I loved that part a lot.

a map on the wall at the place we arranged our boat tour -- a good reference! Can Tho is on the lower branch of the Mekong

passed this food vendor and had to double back to take a picture. I don't want to know.

random temple -- there aren't many signs of religion here, at all 

one of the intersections, just for a flavor of Can Tho. It's an ordinary city, really. 

ordinary and hot. so hot this building caught on fire. (that's probably not why....) 

and so hot that Marc very wisely pushed me to buy a hat. it's so cute, but so cheap it'll
probably melt if it gets wet. still, it serves my purpose!

After another quick swim we walked around the corner from our hotel to this little restaurant, one of three in a row -- two with completely indistinguishable menus. Marc had studied TripAdvisor reviews and knew which one we'd try first, and it was so good we went back the next day. If you're ever in Can Tho, this is where you go for banh xeo:

you can't believe how cheap this is, on top of its amazing fresh deliciousness. 

that big basket OVERFLOWING with so many fresh greens, that omelette, so very good.
A very old woman showed us how to assemble it, and with a sweet smile.

fab summer rolls, obv.

We ate more than we really meant to eat for lunch, but it was so good we couldn't stop. Back to lying around the pool, swimming and floating and reading and napping, and at one point Marc walked along the riverfront to scout out a place for dinner that we'd passed on our evening walk the night before. It looked like a giant food court kind of place, with several restaurants connected in a large space, but it was just one restaurant, and he said the menu had photographs and zero tourists -- so we had our dinner plans made!

it looks like multiple restaurants, doesn't it?  

all the tables were filled with Vietnamese people, men for the most part but an occasional woman 

the waitresses wore either: this short red dress (with a Saigon Beer label),
a shorter black dress with black high heels, or jeans and a white
button down shirt. No idea who got what kind of waitress 

this was our sweet, adorable waitress. I really liked her so much. 

green onions, bean sprouts, garlic, SO good 

and this fried tofu, I will never forget it, ever. it was like a pudding cloud inside. I ate it two nights
in a row, it was so so good. 

beer is cheaper than water in SEAsia, and I like to try all the different beers. Tiger is a
Singaporean beer, and it's OK -- but they serve it with a straw and a giant ice cube!
And when you order beer, they drop a case by your table, even if you just want one.
"Just in case," I guess. Each beer was 67 cents. 

We were up early the next morning for our trip out to the floating markets. There were all kinds of trips you could hire, but we just got a small one, a guy with a little boat, no English, and a breakfast of coffee and juice, bananas, banh mi, and a baguette and a chocolate croissant. We had no idea what to expect, really, either from the floating market or from our specific boat driver. The floating market we'd seen on our last trip was huge, vast flotillas of boats gathered together, and we'd seen it from our relatively large sampan, with a mostly English-speaking guide, dear Mr. Wong. Anyway, our little boat driver showed up right on time, 7am at the boat dock of our hotel, and we were off.

our boat driver greeted us with all these things he'd made with palm leaves -- grasshoppers and flowers and
birds and a crab. and a small basket, which he'd filled with fresh hibiscus.

breakfast -- the banh mi had mushrooms and greens 

the driver was a jokester -- charming at first, and for a while.... 

boats tie their produce to the top of a pole so you can identify what you need. it's very clever.
some boats have a veritable grocery store tied -- all the veg and fruits

women rowing among the big boats, some selling pho and grilled meat 

some sell fresh baguettes 

some boats (like the one on the left) are painted with eyes, to scare off monsters in the river 

We turned off the main river onto a small tributary to visit a rice noodle making factory:

they spread a rice-water slurry on a large drum for just a brief minute of steaming

then the disks dry....

and get fed into a noodle cutting device

Then we wandered in the backwaters a little longer before returning:

a little home 

fishing boats

On the trip back, our driver kept making and draping palm frond jewelry on us to accompany the "halo" he'd made. By the time we got back to the hotel, we were wearing necklaces, bracelets, and I had earrings.

I am fascinated by those grasshoppers 

my 'halo' had grasshoppers, and he hadn't yet given me the necklace.

I don't think the floating market was as magnificent as the one we'd seen before, but it was such a fun trip. And it's fun to float among hardworking people just doing their regular daily routines. The boat driver fitted my 'halo' onto my hat and I just wore it the whole day -- glad to be older and not care what others think, finally -- and it seemed to delight people. Vietnamese people smiled and laughed and said my halo was pretty, if they spoke English. I have no idea what it may have signified to anyone, but I was just in it for the day and had a wonderful time.

We went back to our same place for dinner and fumbled our way through a different version of the menu, but luckily I'd taken photos of the food I'd eaten the night before, and Marc happened to have looked online at the menu and took photos of things he wanted, so we were able to show our pictures and get what we wanted. Unfortunately, I also seemed to get either a flu or bad food....but that's a post for another time.

Can Tho was a fun trip, we enjoyed ourselves -- and that beautiful pool -- and it's not a place either of us feels a need to return to. From here we move on to Thailand. Tam biet, dear Vietnam. I hope to come back.

the pool at night