Good Morning Vietnam, Day 2

I woke up quite early. Father and daughter slept soundly on the double bed we all shared while Rosene's single bed was empty as she spent the previous night in a friend's flat. I had the morning all to myself so I took some pictures from our room and from the top floor where our morning meals were always served.

It was explore-HCMC-day for the family. After breakfast, we immediately set off on foot to the Opera House which was but two blocks from Mac Thi Buoi. Along the way, we passed by the shops of Dong Khoi, a bridal photo shoot and HCMC's Vespa gang at every turn. Contrary to what I've read about these motorists over the net, I noticed that they were not as unruly as the write-ups said. But then again, it was a Sunday so it was too early to tell.

The Post Office was next. It was very touristy. Everybody was busy clicking away so we took no time joining in the shutter fest. There was quite a number of subjects actually—the grand ceiling, the antique maps on the walls, a portrait of Ho Chin Minh, the telephone booths from another age...

We then crossed the street to the Notre Dame Cathedral and soon found out that we didn't make it to viewing time, darn! Nevertheless, we spent time clicking away with the church's beautiful facade as background.

We were hungry but the only resto in sight was Pho24 which we just had to pass up since we had those back in our Manila malls already. And so we walked some more but the sun was at a rather unforgiving state and Indie was complaining about her empty stomach so we settled on the plain yet decent-looking fast food joint right next to Pho24. Food was very cheap but surprisingly good, the chicken and pork as tender and tasty as we wanted them to be. We also tried the Fanny Ice Cream which was, come to think of it, pricier than the food! But what the heck, the strawberry flavor was authentic. And the mint chocolate was, I must say, close to nirvana.

We were just dodging a bike outside when a smiling waitress came running after us with Indie's forgotten hairband. The Vietnamese were good people, I made a mental note of that.

After siesta at the Thang Long, we went back to our tourists-for-the-day endeavor and were soon at the Cathedral which, thank God, was open for viewing this time. There was a divider just a few steps away from the giant doors that separated the sightseer from the pious and nobody minded it seemed. But I did! I wasn't able to take pictures of the altar which I bet would have been fascinating to photograph just like any old churches anywhere in the world.

We walked further to the left side of the Notre Dame in the direction of the Reunification Palace. The parks were lined with tall trees and populated by locals enjoying their Sunday picnic. I also spotted a rowdy group of men engaged in some form of Viet gambling.

French influence was everywhere. And it was that thing that made HCMC both lovely and mysterious to the eyes of a stranger like myself. It was old like a small European city but it never lost its Asian roots. We walked along Nam Ky Koi Ngia and Pasteur and immersed ourselves in our surroundings.

After some time, we found ourselves in front of the Museum so we gave it a go for 15,000 dong per adult while toddler Indie was free to enter. So on to another round of photo ops.

We came across some independent Saigonese fashion shops somewhere in Pasteur and we were so lucky to find some exquisite and intricately-made beaded bags on sale. Ten thousand dong only I went crazy!

Then there was this other shop selling very unique stuff from Cambodia, Laos and the mountains of Vietnam. I just found the perfect Mother's Day gift for Nubs to buy me! But there was no need to rush...

We reached the People's Committee Hall and wasted no time having our pictures taken in front of the Colonial architecture. By this time, Indie was quite tired so we took a leisurely stroll back to our hotel.

We freshened up and hooked up with an old friend for dinner at Ben Thanh night market. Poppet took us to a crowded al fresco make-shift restaurant with waiters in yellow shirts who were obviously having a hard time keeping up with the sea of diners wanting a taste of whatever the resto had to offer. Given his familiarity with the place, my friend appointed himself in-charge of ordering.

Then viands started falling, as if randomly, into our very, very small table like manna from heaven and there was clearly an absence of space for plates to eat on. Okay, small bowls would have to do but these certainly took a long time coming. And the vegetables! I've never seen so many of them gathered on one table or plate for that matter.

But what do you know! The meal proved to be our best dining experience in this quaint little city. There was pork barbecue, grilled beef, kikiam, sugar cane sticks wrapped in shrimp meat, bean sprouts fried in a lumpia-esque wrapper, yang chow rice, another kind of rice and, of, course, the greens.

And we had to eat everything in a certain way. Like Beijing's Peking Duck, it came with some sort of Saigonese ceremony:

1. First, spread a leaf (lettuce or romaine) on your palm.
   
2. Line it with filling of choice (been sprouts, sugar cane sticks, kikiam, beef or pork) or a combination of two.
   
3. Add a basil leaf or two for that authentic local flavor.
4. Roll it.
   
5. Dunk it into the spicy fish sauce.

And voila, it was simply the best! For a self-declared non-veggie eating carnivore, I had an unbelievable total of 5 rolls. Everybody ate so much it was difficult to get up on our feet to kiss Poppet goodnight!

At Rosene's suggestion, the sumptuous dinner was to be capped by the most delicious crepes in town to be relished in to-die-for ambience. In the span of a few minutes, the search for La Fenetre slowly became the great Saigon adventure for apart from the street name, Rosene had no idea where it really was. After a few intersections, Nubs and I realized that Nam Ky Koi was the same road we passed by during the afternoon but we didn't know exactly what Rosene was looking for and besides streets had this uncanny ability to change appearances under the cover of darkness so we were absolutely of no help! In the middle of all this, Mr. Taxi Man drove steadily, dealing with our friend with the patience of a saint despite the language barrier that hung between them. By the time we gave up and decided to just head back to the hotel, Mr. Taxi Man seemed to have lost a fraction of his patience and grew an allergic reaction to every mention of Nam Ky Koi!

After the failed dessert attempt, I contented myself with a few shots of the Thang Long and was in for another discovery! There, right beside our home in HCMC, seemingly out of place, was a conveneince store not like 7-Eleven or any other air-conditioned mini-mart—it was a sari-sari store no different from the ones back home!

Ho Chi Minh was turning out to be full of surprises I couldn't help but wonder what tomorrow might bring....