Floating in inner tubes in the south china sea, towed behind a fishing trawler converted into party boat. a sweaty shirtless vietnamese man with an embroidered cap indicating that we should refer to him as "CrazyMan" drifts across from us, seated at the "Floating Bar." He tells us "Don't be Lazy! You not drinking! You not get back in da boat until you drunk!" before pouring cheap port wine down our open pink throats.

Todd: "So Adam, wasn't there a war here or something?"

Adam: "I think so. I've seen some movies. I think we must have totally kicked Vietnam's ass."

Todd: "Well that's obvious. When we go back to Afghanistan, will our mujahadeen friends tow us around in inner tubes, pour alcohol down our throats and offer their sisters to pleasure us?"

Adam: "Definitely. I mean, did we not just totally kick ass there as well?"

Todd: "True, dat."

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Three days of Nha Trang were certainly pleasant. Off the coast are numerous islands, and we opted to take one of the boat tours out to hike around an island and do some skin diving. Such trips were made infamous by legendary "Mama Hanh." Mama would take boatloads of tourists out on a seven hour cruise and demand they consume copious amounts of cheap alcohol and hand-rolled joints, both of which she partook of liberally. Her catch phrase was "Don't be Lazy!" [with your partying]. At $7 a ticket, entertaining over one hundred tourists a day, Mama Hanh made an obscene amount of money partying on boats getting drunk and high with foreigners. In a place like Vietnam, such success is certain to earn the jealousy and resentment of many. On her trips were numerous Vietnamese tourists as well. Much to the annoyance of three vacationing cops from Hanoi, she topped her list of "social evils" by singing a song about how Ho Chi Minh was her bitch on the bus ride back to town. Mama is under house arrest, her business dissolved, her name spoken only in quiet whispers around town.

What we should have realized is that the ten or so companies doing tours now offer an identical rip-off version of her tour, except cheap cigarettes have replaced the free grass. We were fortunate not to be plagued with any soccer-hooligans - mostly a number of mellow Kiwi men, icelandic/scandinavian women, chatty stereotype-reinforcing Japs, a few Frogs, and a dozen or so Vietnamese. This was the "TM Brothers" tour, and the M.C., a pockmarked twentysomething offered that brand of feigned/bottled enthusiasm only complete idiots must enjoy. He confided in us Californians that he had lived a year in the Viet enclave of Westminster. To his credit, he did turn off the horrendous western blend of chili peppers, lenny kravitz, and sixties-rock at our request. We forgave them their scripted lameness when the entire goofy awkward crew of four came together to rock the boat with their assemblage of equipment fashioned from various gear. The skipper who otherwise spoke no English screamed like John Lennon to The Beatles, and crooned out some song about going to San Francisco with flowers in your hair. I doubt he understood the meaning of the words, but he certainly seemed to feel them. We found them amusing.

One observation I feel it is safe to make is that the Vietnamese are really into being Vietnamese. Not Annam ("the pacified south") under the chinese, not Cham, not French Indochina, not North or South Vietnam. Just Vietnam. When the TM Brothers "boy band" sang a traditional anthem, every Vietnamese on board joined in with obvious enthusiasm. Even the expats who had returned with their caucasian husbands and probably were struggling with some identity issues at being home joined in the song wholeheartedly.

Singed and browned, we took a day to recuperate and plan our next move. We didn't really have one besides "explore vietnam" before "exploring laos" en route back to thailand.

Going from Phnom Penh in Cambodia to Ho Chi Minh City (Saigon) in Vietnam was a no brainer using the Sinh system. $6 got you five hours to the border including a ferry across the Mekong river, and once into vietnam another waiting bus took you the remaining four hours to Saigon. Once arrived to Saigon's Khao Sarn Road (actually Pham Ngu Lao in District 1), you are dropped off at Sinh Café้ #1, where they will encourage you to take accommodation in their hotel, eat at their restaurant, surf their internet, buy their souvenirs, change money, and book your ongoing travel. Take the night bus or the day bus - they offer two inexpensive daily trips regardless of how many or few people sign up. It is just too convenient to pass up. Shuttling tourists up and down coastal Highway 1 (erroneously referred to as Ho Chi Minh trail) from Saigon to Hanoi, they only stop at several cities in between deemed tour-worthy. The trains and public buses are too slow/dangerous and the traffic of Saigon discourages any aims of self-determination. Saigon to Nha Trang to Hoi An to Hue to Haiphong to Hanoi. Thoroughly modern japanese overly air-conditioned tour buses shuttle Them (Tourists, our antithetical foils) between the few destinations covered, on long uncomfortable boring hauls. never stopping - an ennui inducing blur of rice paddies villages and geography punctuated by a coupla' days in identical tourist ghettos. (We refer to them all as "Khao Sarn Road" out of deference to the definitive original in Bangkok) Along each one, in each town, Sinh compound #X offers identical services and an identical experience. A near monopoly, the few smaller competitors match their same formula for a chance at a slice of the action. Identical people slightly enjoying identical experiences in identical towns following identically scripted itineraries and enduring/cherishing "rich encounters with colorful locals."

Shit. All this time and I'm still only in Saigon

Pressed for time and surprised at how long it would take to traverse the length (height?) of the country, we bailed on Saigon after two days on the night bus to Nha Trang. Ten hours and several Zanax later we were unloaded at a reasonably priced decent hotel conveniently located near the beach, the Khao Sarn Road, and Sinh Café้ #2. How wonderfully convenient. Satisfaction guaranteed. No problem. Non-difficult. Non-challenging. Hassle-free. Vietnam-free. Reality-free. Somnambulant. Comatose. Just place me in a body shaped vat of Warm Pudding, slip in the IntraVenous, and turn on the Television. I can't be bothered with actually having to live this life.

and then it hit me. like a diamond bullet straight into my forehead. the sheer genius of it.

It was time to get off the bus. One of the few useful tips in what has proven an overall insipid version of the Lonely Planet guide was to Mr. Vu's Café้ des Amis. Mr. Vu was a personable guy who takes the time to discuss options and arrange some unique jeep tours through the central highlands and is trying to get government approval for a Vietnam-Cambodia-Laos loop excursion. This didn't interest us either however. We wanted full control of our horizontal and our vertical. What we needed were a couple of decent bikes to take off on and find our own adventure. Around 1,500 kilometers at the opposite end of this vertically oriented country, we wanted to make it to Hanoi in our remaining time and see everything in between. As much as possible at least. Mr. Vu's only office is in Nha Trang, but we worked out a deal with him. A couple of days before arriving to Hanoi, we would call him to communicate when we would be there. He would send somebody up on a public bus, a 36-hour non-stop torture session to collect the bikes and ship them from the train station, an expense we would also pick up. Without our passports, and a meaningless amount of our money in his pocket, he sent us off with two shiny Taiwanese 125cc "BONUS" motorcycles ("only rich people" drive larger bikes which are prime targets for theft), a couple of helmets, and a toolkit for repairs. Competent Honda rip-offs, the bikes had new tires and working horns, the two most important features on a third-world road. (by now I hope you mentally substitute "lesser developed nation" or whatever the euphimism du-jour is if "third-world" makes you squirm)

With photocopies of faded roadmaps too detailed to be legal, we stepped off the tourist carousel and headed north, into the unknown.

it's a sinh

how you too could see exotic lands. through the hazy window of a tour bus

beach party vietnam, surfing with the vietcong
wasn't sure if the random carnival equipment were war remnants or chinese imports, but they were popular with the vietnamese tourists

although the water and islands were spectacular, the beach itself was nothing memorable. at least not after living in southern kal and the enjoying white sands of thailand

bumper cars?

these ridiculous artificial fireworks, some sort of exhausting perpetual celebration of the Revolution. they were forgettable the first few times we saw them, but it turned out every town in south vietnam featured them proudly in their main town square.

not sure why i like this picture, just do.

300,000 MIAs, 5.2 million casualties, 30% of their environment, and 13 million tons of bombs later, the vietnamese still love America. "America #1!" they say. Although the war left a large psychological scar on the collective American psyche, the vietnamese seem to have gotten over it. They are more concerned about their ancient and much longer running enemies, the Chinese. America, they just want to do business with.

she was dismayed why i would be taking photos of her trash, but we found interesting that all the gutters were filled with playing cards. in Los Angeles we know what gamblers the viets are, and Mr. Vu demonstrated to us with his deck the various popular techniques of cheating. Thus a deck is only used for a game or two before being thrown out.

nha trang's port

fishing village. this was one of my 35mm shots, i admit i am dissapointed with the thai shop i always do my digital processing at. last year, they were all beautifully scanned, this time the color balance is way skewed to the blue.

i'm almost ashamed to admit the TM Brothers Boy Band was actually entertaining. we appreciated their DIY style with instruments composed of the ship's gear (except the gee-tar) 'funky-monkey' is in yellow with 'crazy-man in his "2002" glasses on the far right

the skipper/singer didn't speak a word of english outside of john lennon lyrics

we checked out the "rainbow bar" on the beach that Than Than café owner and expat from belgium Frederick recommended to us, but could not stomach the obnoxious crowd of western beach yahoos. we found a place more to our liking on the sidewalk, one of the Bia Hoi stalls where they serve pressurized watered down beer by the liter. we hung out here a couple of evenings with proprietor Phuo ("foo") and her friend Phuong ("fong"), a vivacious older woman preparing to start her first day selling cigarettes from a small little sidewalk stall. She repeatedly warned us to be wary of "the bad people who 'yak yak yak'," though her and her young friend who ran to Bia stall, Phuo, seemed to do plenty of that. We had a date with her on the second night, she wanted to cook for us. She brought to the beer stall plates and bowls of some of the best food we ate in vietnam. She definately made the best veg meal i had in the country, and refused to take any dong for it. (if that sentance alarms you, dong is the vietnamese unit of currency) She mentioned a few times that next time we came, we should bring "a nice older friend" for her. She's funny, sweet, speaks good english, and a great cook. Drop us a line if you're interested.

Phuong poses with her cigarette stand on her first day of work. The bottles containing the yellow fluid are Xang, or low octane street-petrol

The Nha Trang Bia Hoi! crew. (with the malarial mosquitoes here you would wear geek socks as well)

The girls (Phuo and Phuong) wanted their photos on this bike. The great desire of every viet is a Honda Dream. At the wedding shops, besides selling rubber banded bundles of photocopied $100 bills for gifts, they sell cardboard cutouts of Honda Dream scooters as talismans of prosperity. Few can afford the $700 Honda Dreams, opting instead for $400 chinese scooters that have been painted and decaled as honda dreams. The bike pictured here is the equivalent of a mercedes in nam. The roads are overcapacity as moto-bikes are one of the largest imports as people are beginning to find money in their pockets.

The quality cambodian flowers so readily available in Saigon were mostly bags of desiccated seeds and shake here. a European expat told us it only got worse the further north one traveled and introduced us to his vietnamese friend. Giving him a couple hundred thousand dong, he returned from the jungle with some impressive specimens of local flora.

Mr. Vu made helped us realize our plans. The bikes had decent tires and their 125cc engines would prove all the power we needed.