We settled in to Rainbow Plantations in Summerdale AL and watched the weather deteriorate.  We had planned to stay 3 days, long enough for our mail to catch up with us and see family in Fairhope. Our hopes to get together with Joy and family did not work out.  As we thought about moving on west, a check of the weather convinced us that staying put for three more days would avoid our driving into the fierce storm that was blanketing the south to the west of us (and headed our way) and was part of the massive system that was shutting down air travel and roads to the north and east of us. We had already ducked horrendous sleet and ice on the road from Florida to Alabama by being “stuck” near Sanford Fl.  We stayed and endured the rains and (relative) cold in the safety of a comfortable campground.

Our route west took us to a new stopping place, Frog City RV Park. just west of Lafayette, LA.  I would certainly recommend this for an overnight or even a few days even though it is adjacent to a truck stop just off I 10.  The noise did not disturb us and the place was neat and clean with sites more than adequate for us to pull in and stay with our Jeep attached for an easy departure the next day. While there we encountered an extreme example of something I experienced mostly in my work.  We met a neighbor who was new to RVing and offered some suggestions of support clubs they might join such as Escapees.  The men (husband and brother-in-law) went to the casino and the wife invited herself to a tour of our coach.  Over the next 30  minutes or so she unloaded her entire life history from a family of addicted people to her career in counseling  to their abrupt decision to sell everything and take up full time RVing with no preamble.  Carol and I were breathless and speechless when she took her whirlwind of tzouris (yiddish for troubles) back to her coach. I have witnessed this kind of “unloading” as I said mostly in my work as a Financial Planner, but also when meeting new people in campgrounds, but seldom in such depth and such a dysfunctional story.  We were not unhappy that they were headed east as we headed west.

We moved on the next day to Rainbow’s End in Livingston TX.  We had three objectives, pick up mail, get the vehicles inspected and VOTE.  Our first vote in Texas and early voting opens the day we plan to leave.  We hope to vote in the morning before we leave.  Our primary vote will be important as there are very few Democrats in these parts.  The other objectives are already taken care of.  We had a great walk around Lake Livingston State Park and a nice dinner out at Pueblo Viejo.  If you are ever in Livingston (I cannot imagine what would bring anyone not a member of Escapees here) and you want to dine out, this may be best option.  There is an Italian place that gets a better rating in Trip Advisor, but Italian in semi rural Texas?

Tech: Since our travel in the Fall we have become rather adept with Skype Video and Google Hangouts, it lets us see the grandkids and get a tour of the construction at Malena and Dan’s.  We put up with the occasional dropouts caused by variable wireless connection for the fun of the video. We have satellite TV, somehow I seem to always park with a tree between our antenna and the satellite we need.  Right now I am shadowed by one small limb, but it hardly seems worth shifting everything so I see how many channels of nothing to watch I can get.  We bought a Roku to watch Netflix (and many other channels) so we have much more, nothing to watch, and some movies.  Unfortunately bandwidth for the movies is sometimes a problem, we need to be in a place with excellent Verizon LTE and be sure the phone is fully charged and plugged in before starting a movie.  I am also learning  more than I want to know about licensing of programs by item and by geography.

Yesterday, Tuesday February 4, my sister’s birthday, all the parts were available and so was a bay.  Nathan had us in the service bay by 10 AM and and we left La Mesa RV Sanford for the third and final time at 5 PM. I must give special thanks to Nathan and the staff at La Mesa RV.  None of the delay was their doing and once they had the parts they got it all done and it seems to be well done so far.  As we returned to Wekiva River RV Park we were debating whether to stay another day or plan to roll in the morning.  We rolled, enough itchy tire syndrome, time to be on the move.

But where to make our first stop.  Looking over our options I noticed a monthly email bulletin from Harvest Hosts in my inbox.  I remembered that there were several members along our proposed route on I 10.  A quick check of the directory map from their website http://www.harvesthosts.com/ showed a couple of probables.  One is Golden Acres Ranch which we stopped at last Spring (May 2 to be exact).  It is 10 miles north of I 10 and I remembered that following the gps to get there might be a mistake.  We called and Fred said “sure, what time should look for you.”  We set off with expectation of arriving between 3 and 4.  This did not take into account the longest fuel stop either of us can remember,  Access to the only diesel pump was blocked by a car whose operator was in the shop shopping, apparently he never heard of pulling away from the pump after fueling.  We waited at least 10 minutes, when I asked him to move his car before finishing his shopping he grumped at me, oh well.  Once we got to the pump it became clear we would be there a very long time.  We needed just under 80 gallons of diesel and it took 30 minutes to pump it.  We will not ever stop at a Marathon station again with the coach, it is better to pay a few cents a gallon more and be on our way.

We arrived at Golden Acres Ranch at 4:45 in the afternoon.  We were warmly welcomed by both Fred and Bobbie.  Bobbie and her daughter-in-law were completing the afternoon chores feeding all the animals.  Fred helped spot us and then showed us what was available in the shop.  I will be leaving here with some fresh frozen local lamb and we will also have several jellies made by Bobbie. Unfortunately I don’t think there will be any mayhaw jelly as last years harvest was a bust, read my post from May 2, 2013 for details. Fred says this year has promise of a good crop.  Not sure when we are likely to get back here, but I am sure we will.

Oh about the gps directions.  The software in the coach thinks that there is a street called Longleaf that gets to the ranch from the north.  Well there is, sort of, I don’t think the jeep could get through, it never was a road.  I thought I had it figured right this time, but no we came to the ranch the hard way again.  Maybe another year we will approach from right off US 19 onto Barnes.  That is a reminder for me and a note for anyone trying to get here. That will result in a really tough right turn into the driveway and I want to remember to cross the centerline to give myself room for the turn.

Not sure if we go all the way to Summerdale AL tomorrow or dawdle just a bit along the coast.  We will know soon enough.

For some reason we have had a collision of problems that have kept us pinned down in Sanford FL, yes “Stand Your Ground” Sanford.  We stayed one night at the Sanford Elks Lodge and met some delightful people in the bar.  The next morning as we prepared to leave for our appointment at La Mesa RV to have the seal repaired I noticed that the gas cap from the Jeep was missing, presumably stolen as it had a been there the day before when we fueled and it is fastened to the Jeep by a strap which was still there.

We arrived at La Mesa and met with Nathan, our service adviser.  He had the heater controller card for the water heater in hand and proceeded with that installation while examining the seal.  It needs to be replaced and their parts department only had a 21 foot piece and we need 28 feet.  I agreed to pay for expedited delivery since it was Friday and that should have it in hand on Monday, Tuesday latest.  At that point we moved the coach to Wekiva River RV Resort about 6 miles away for the weekend.  We drove back to St Petersburg in the Jeep to pick up the remaining part we needed for the water heater which Arthur had called to tell us was in.  Whew now we have everything in place to be underway by Tuesday, Wednesday latest.  So why am I writing this in the La Mesa RV Cafe on February 1?  One could blame the supplier for incompetence, they decided NOT to ship it expedited.  They put it on a truck which never made it out of Atlanta until Friday, January 31, because of the weather.  The good news is that we have been stuck in the warmest place we could have been this past week.  We have had an opportunity to explore an area of Florida we might never have thought about visiting.  We like the RV park we are in, the price not so much.

Monday, Murphy tracked us down again.  We had been having some reduced water flow issues and I had pulled the aerators off all the faucets and found fine gravel in them, especially the kitchen sink which gets the heaviest use.  Finally removing the aerator on the kitchen sink did not restore the flow and I saw black fine sand in the toilet bowl.  It dawned on me that the source of black fine sand had to be the whole house carbon filter.  Clearly in the freeze at Covesville it had had a small internal rupture. When I pulled it Monday morning I found it leaking carbon.  Great! but how do I restore the flow in the kitchen sink? Some basic troubleshooting pointed me to the diverter valve which switches between the sprayer and the tap.  I was getting much more flow through the sprayer, ah a workaround.  I called Pfister customer service and told them my tale of woe.  Not the least being the video for how to remove the diverter was not working on their web site.  I pulled the diverter and cleaned it according to the directions and flow was restored to 50%.  Another call and the part was on order under warrantee, but I paid for 2nd day delivery. The part didn’t show at the campground office when expected or the next day, but I wasn’t going anyplace anyhow. By the third day I was getting upset, I finally got the UPS tracking number which showed it had been delivered and signed for two days before!  It was not in the office, so at their suggestion, I went to the store and found it there addressed to Paul Gobderg, close! The replacement took 5 minutes and flow was fully restored.

Still waiting, the seal has not arrived and it is almost 3 PM on Saturday, back to the campground as soon as they finish with the water heater.  Oh, I didn’t mention, the tech broke the new part while installing it 🙁 🙁 They have pulled a part off a coach in the lot to hold us over the weekend and will finish the job next week when we come back to have the seal installed, assuming it was ever actually shipped.

Still have a smile on my face, I don’t need to be anyplace else yet.  I guess we will blow through the Florida Panhandle, Alabama, Mississippi and Louisiana in a couple of days on our way to Texas. Fortunately we have explored much of the territory and don’t feel we will be missing much.  Of course this all assumes Mr Murphy has had enough fun with us.  For the non RVers reading this none of this is more than irritating taken as individual happenings.  Other than the seal, all of the problems stem from spending time in temperatures below 10 F which is really rare for us.  The water heater initial failure was a switch that stuck in the on position and caused the plastic housing to distort from the heat, problems cascaded from there.  Likewise the filter failure lead to a lesser cascade of failure.

Time to go enjoy.

Landed at Dulles after 3 months away zonked from 18 hours flying with a 15 hour layover with hotel room in London and 12 hours out of synch with Eastern Standard Time.  Dan picked us up and drove us to his home where we crashed for the night. The drive was hard on him as it was raining and freezing and dark.  I dozed.

Picked up the coach at the storage lot the next day and managed to get it well situated in Dan and Malena’s yard for the coming week in advance of serious freezing weather -remember that for later.  We used auxiliary propane tanks to keep from running down the main tank and it was a good thing as we burned through almost 20 gallons of propane plus about a third of our onboard supply, call it another 8 gallons.  The temperature got down to 4 F one night (that’s Fahrenheit).  We watched the continuing construction project that is adding a master bedroom and dining room to the house along with gutting the kitchen.  This started the day we left in October and I expect will continue for another couple of months.

We rolled out on the eleventh with Corey riding the nav seat out to the highway.  This was his 11 year old treat with the grandparents.  He moved to the couch with his books and pillows and settled in for the long ride to St Augustine, FL and the Alligator Farm.  The drive took two days of about 6 hours each on the road.  Our usual search for interesting stops was cut off by dreadful weather, it was cold and raining most of the way.  We made our way to Indian Forest Campground just outside of St Augustine and set up camp for three nights.  This is a nothing special campground with nice folk reasonable sites and just a bit too much water on the ground, not their fault, but it is low and flat, Florida.

At the Alligator Ranch Corey was in his element.  He had studied the guide books to know what to look for and we saw every reptile they have, twice.  Also plenty of snakes and birds.  I will not recite the bird list here.  Corey has it written down.  He spent lots of time in the evenings keeping up his journal.  After lunch which we had brought with us, he asked if we could go on the zipline ride we kept seeing people riding overhead.  We said sure and both Carol and I decided to share the fun.
We took the shorter route, the longer one takes at least 2 hours! I did not realize that this was a mix of obstacle course and zipline.  While clipped in to safety lines at all times with guides walking beneath us we navigated tight ropes, slack ropes, swinging bridges and ladders.  It was hard work and a lot of fun, especially when we reached a fast zipline.  After dinner in town we slept well and returned to see the Castillo which has defended the city for 400 years.  We also wandered the streets and had lunch at Al’s Pizza, finally back to the coach for dinner.  The next day we took the long way from St Augustine to St Petersburg and set up camp at Fort Desoto, one of our favorites, so Corey could see his Uncle Arthur and Aunt Natalie, Carol’s brother and sister-in-law.

We have service needed so we are holding over a couple of days before going to Orlando for a service appointment for a loose slideout seal.  Today became a marathon of problems and maintenance stuff.  I had planned to have the oil changed in the Jeep and on the way I stopped to pick up windshield wipers because as I was replacing the windshield washer hose, which had succumbed to the sun, I noted that the wiper blades were in no better shape.  As I congratulated myself on accomplishing those simple tasks, I noticed someone walking through our site, very unusual, then there was a knock on the door and a passing neighbor told me water was pouring from the back of the coach, as indeed it was.  A part in the tankless water heater had failed and water was streaming from it.  The bypass valve did not stop water from flowing to the heater.  A call to the manufacturer got me to Gary who calmly walked me through a tear down and rebuild of the sightglass flow sensor in about 45 minutes.  It isn’t leaking, but we don’t have hot water yet.  I hope as it dries out the gas will flow as the igniter ignites.  Not satisfied with that I tried to change the battery in my remote door opener only to find I need two of these very rare CR1616 batteries.

After dinner, as we cleaned up, I went outside to put away the grill.  I locked the cabinet with my key ring and went in to help dry the dishes.  When I went out to stow the barbecue tools, the keys were nowhere to be found, and so they remain among the missing three hours later.  We have turned the coach upside down and looked in and under everything imaginable.  They are here and I am sure we will find them when we move the coach three sites over in the morning, but. . .

From Saigon: Our sons were born in 1966 and 1968. At that time deep in the jungle not far from Saigon,  Viet Cong were building and fighting from a vast tunnel system in Cu Chi Provence that included 125 miles of tunnel through hard clay. These local villagers had first banded together to fight the French in the early 50s, or more to hide from the French using a limited tunnel system from house to house and eventually village to village.   The French were defeated and the US supported the new government of the South.  We became the enemy since these people in large measure supported Ho Chi Minh and the government of the North.

For us, in that day even if we did not support the American war effort fully,  the Viet Cong,  the VC, were the enemy.  Our soldiers were being killed in combat in Cu Chi daily.  Patrols never knew whether they would encounter boobytraps, or fire from hidden bunkers,  or just get savaged by mosquitos. Today this area is a National Monument and a major tourist site.  The least damaged tunnel area has been preserved as it was after the war.  This was where we went to tour today. I helped “locate” a hidden entrance to the complex.  A patch of leaf littered jungle, just like all others, with a small blaze on a tree nearby,  I never would have seen the blaze on my own. Finding the trap door entrance was another matter,  we tapped on the forest floor until we heard a hollow sound. Our site guide cleared the leaves away opened the lid,  lowered himself down lifting the lid overhead. As he got almost down he reached out and covered it with the leaves and disappeared leaving no trace of the entry.  A couple of us tried it.  I managed to get down the entry and lower the lid,  but this entry was meant for underfed VC men and women,  not overfed Americans.  We did enter and duck walk through several sections of tunnel entering several chambers, including one that purports to be command chamber were the Tet Offensive was planned.  We were treated to sections of jungle floor containing a variety of primitive but effective traps which struck fear in the minds of our soldiers patrolling there.  I took no pictures!  Those images will haunt my dreams for a while with no the need for visual reminders.

So far this is touring a 50 year old site that is open to tourists for a fee.  We reboarded our bus and headed off to lunch at the home of a well off family nearby.  Understand that the well off in Cu Chi today were all Viet Cong.  After the war,  those who were on the roles as active VC were rewarded with land which now is mainly rubber plantation. Those who were not on the roles,  or who had the misfortune to have their supervisor die before revealing their involvement to authorities got nothing but a pension.  At lunch were three guests,  a 90 year old former village chief whose major role was to supply food and other material to the troops,  a Colenel who commanded 1000 troops and a Capitan.  Both of them had served in Cu Chi among other fronts and now are the leaders of the veterans association.  I sat across from these two officers and had an amiable conversation about life in the tunnels and their war roles and we shared about our children and grandchildren.  The great spooks of my 20s and 30s turn out to be more like me today than I ever would have expected.  On the site we saw small shards of shrapnel left over from the many bombs that fell on every square meter,  we saw bomb craters from bombs dropped from B52s that were so devastating that the shock wave blew out an adjoining bunker,  yet the men who we met who survived this seem to bear no animosity towards us.

No, not Rochester, NY! Da Lat Vietnam!  This modest sized city of about 250,000 sits at 5,000 feet in the Central Highlands not far from Saigon,  9 hours by road,  35 minutes by airplane. It is in the region the Montagnards call home. It was established by the French about 120 years ago as an escape from the intense heat and humidity of Saigon.  More recently people discovered the climate is perfect to grow flowers year round.  Most are grown in greenhouses to protect them from the heavy rains in July and August, not to keep them warm or shield them from the sun.  There are 25,000 greenhouses covering the valley floors and hillsides today. 

As we arrived we saw signs for the opening of the biennial flower show,  the next day. Pictures cannot do it justice.  Every roadway,  sidewalk,  building was covered with and lined with flowers.  The medians of the roadways were rose gardens.  The hills were ablaze in the glory of so many different flowers and colors that it is difficult to describe.  I have taken hundres of photos and will eventually post some,  but .  .  We asked our tour guide to change the plan for a city tour to a visit to the show grounds,  it cost $1 dollar for entry. If you are mad about flowers and love to travel start making plans now for last week in December 2015. The hotels are booked solid and prices have been doubled and tripled,  but do see it. 

Special note to a friend:  Henry Hamlin,  have you been here to see the bonsai?  They are marvelous, not just at the show where there was a competition,  but at Truc Lam Zen Buddhist Pagoda which we reached by cable car.  There are many examples of bonsia permanently displayed there.

This is also a great time of year to visit Vietnam,  even Saigon’s weather is moderate – mid 80s.

Speaking of cameras.  Murphy has friends.  No sooner did my camera “self repair” then the next day Carol’s Nikon felt left out and gave her the same lens error message on her mid range lens.  The telephoto works fine,  so far.  Out came the new little Canon and Carol has been shooting with that for the last two days. 

Back to the folks and flu racing through the group.  Carol and I have been unscathed so far.  I have to believe that the flu shots we got last September were the “right” ones.  People are recovering and there don’t seem to be any new victims. This may be an interesting night.  Or room “has a window” as promised by OAT, but it is a narrow slot of a Window that admits some light and the crowing of a rooster nearby in the middle of Saigon.  It turns out Windows are a valuable commodity in Vietnam.  The French tax structure here before 1954 taxed property on the width of the property on the road.  Thus it is most common to see houses that are 10 to 12 feet wide, several stories tall and 30 to 50 feet deep.  They have common walls so as not to waste space that is taxed,  hence no side Windows on many buildings.  Even hotels are built this way in the more moderate price range. This tax structure had been retained by the Communist government and so has the resulting architecture.

I have wandered over many subjects in this post.  My comments about the government and politics have been limited,  I know.  Tomorrow we visit the Cu Chi Tunnel, a major construction by the Viet Cong that served as their base near Saigon during the war.  We will also meet with VC veterans and have a chance to talk with them.  Later when I can gather my thoughts more coherently,  I expect to write about the nature of government in Vietnam and try to sort the propaganda from the truth (whatever that may be). For one example we were permitted to enter a mountain village of relocated mountain people,  but only with a government provided guide.  Everyone seemed happy and reasonably well off,  but I have no idea what I was not permitted to see,  if anything.

Not me or Carol!  This fourth tour with OAT seems cursed with colds and flu. One member arrived with flu like symptoms she picked up on the flight over.  Since then about half the travelers have come down with symptoms.  Yesterday,  An, our tour leader,  reported that he too has the bug. The bus ride back from our day’s adventures sounded like a college infirmary.  When we were approaching the hotel,  An lead many of the stick people off the bus to a pharmacy to help them buy the “cures” of their choice. We stayed on the bus back to the hotel and Carol ran down the street to where she knew a primary school would be dismissing the children.  It is quite a sight as hundreds of children exit the school yard to meet their parents and get on the motorbikes to ride home. This is the biggest motorbike crush we’ve seen since Hanoi.

Our day started with a boat ride on Cam Rahn Bay to an island fishing village where we landed and walked through the village market. It was very active. We kept wondering why the middle school kids were not in school.  Christmas Day is not a holiday here. They had just taken a national exam and had two days off.   When we got to the end of our walk there was no place for us to board the boat from shore.  We were offered two options;  1 ride a raft pulled on a line hand over hand or 2 try a wet foot transfer to a round bamboo basket waterproofed with tar and try to paddle out to the boat.  Fortunately the boats came with boatmen. Naturally Carol and I had to try the boats.  We went separately in hopes of taking pictures of each other. I got to paddle,  she didn’t.  All you lovers of kayaks and canoes,  think about paddling a round tub with no keel or skeg with one paddle on open water in a stiff breeze. The good news was we were headed mostly downwind.  Paddling on one side and the other did not work.  Then I watched the boatman paddling from the “front” and realized he was using a draw stroke.  I took over and was able to make headway.  It ain’t easy even though they make it look so. We finished the morning with two hours in the sun on Mi Ni Beach where lounges and sunshades were provided.  We had a good read,  nap,  rest which was most appreciated.

We then went to a village outside of Nha Trang where we were met the village chief and his wife who prepared lunch for us. Our team did not get the word that the road was being renovated and we had to dismount twice to let the driver negotiate around piles of dirt left in the middle of an already narrow road. The chief was a combatant in the south Vietnamese army, our team.  The land we were on which has been in his family for several generations had been a battle field in the war.  He was permitted to return and build up the village.  Their major occupation is working with bamboo to make baskets used in the various markets to hold and transport produce,  chop sticks in eatng,  cooking and stirring sizes. They also make rooster cages.  I’m not sure I’ve mentioned that cock fighting is a big sport in Vietnam.  Cocks are treasured and they do not fight to the death but rather are judged and the fight is stopped if it looks like one will be seriously hurt. This is how it was explained to us.

After Carol got her pictures we went shopping to buy me a hat to replace the one I lost along the way yesterday.  I need a full brim to keep the sun off. This one had the Red Star and Nha Trang on it.  It may last the rest of the trip, who can complain for 50000 Dong ($2.50)

Speaking of shopping.  My camera appeared to have given up the ghost yesterday.  The lens would not retract and I had a lens error message. We found a camera store and bought a new pocketable Canon camera.  As I was going over the features in the hotel room I heard a noise like a camera lens retracting. I looked over at the old G12 and found it had “recovered” I shot with it all day today.  ???

One of the Overseas Adventure Travel’s themes is Learning and Discovery or L & D. Generally it means getting off on our own and having adventures that are not on the itinerary.  Today’s L&D required the presence of our Tour Leader,  An, to give guidance and cross the language barrier.  Shocking as it may seem my vocabulary in Vietnamese is limited to sin chow (Hello) and gum ang (Thank you). Those transliterations are approximations as is my pronounciation.  People tend not to laugh to hard.  But I am avoiding the subject.

Back on December 6 I entered yet another new hotel room. The designer had very cleverly created a platform that extended about a foot from the foot of the bed.  It has nice sharp corners.  Three of us men,  naturally,  impaled ourselves on the corners upon entering the rooms. One got a scratch and Kelly and I managed to draw blood.  In my case, infection combined with edema from travel to give me a swollen leg.  I’ve been dragging it around with cleanings and a course of the wrong antibiotic until yesterday.  It got worse and the knee swelled up.  Overnight it returned to the way it had been,  but I had gotten An involved, so off to the hospital we went after lunch.  We arrived at 1:30 knowing that An had to lead an optional tour which we had cancelled at 3 PM. The short story is that we had completed my treatment in time to be back at the hotel by 3. Total cost for me was $58, including meds.

Longer story.  The hospital looked like something out of the 50s. I was placed in a room that was a cross between a storage room,  an exam room and the pathway to the WC. The walls were glass and the door was left open.  Passersby peered in to watch the treatment,  all in all not what we are used to,  not that we spend a lot of time in ERs.  There was no attempt to take vital signs,  for that matter no blood pressure cuff or stethoscope was in view.  They did eventually take my temperature with a Mercury thermometer in the armpit.  They did not take a medical history of any sort.  I had to speak up to say I had type 2 diabetes and was allergic to penicillin.  The latter caused great consternation on the part of the doctor who obviously was planning on something from that family.  The rest of my history was not even considered.  I have since sent the treatment information to my doctor who confirmed most of the recommendations by email.  You can’t imagine how grateful I am to be able to communicate this way when I am far away. 

I will not talk about this episode or my recovery again unless there is something out of the ordinary or funny to report.  After an afternoon of rest Carol and I took the hotel shuttle into ancient Hoi An and walked just a bit until we found our way into the Cargo Club where we had a wonderful meal sitting at a terrace table overlooking the river.  Cab back to the hotel, $3, and we are packed for an early departure from Da Nang airport in the morning.

While in Hanoi we made a stop that OAT does not include in the itinerary because of the controversy that it raises. This is the “Hanoi Hilton.”  Much of the exhibit there is devoted to the use of the prison by the French when they ruled the area.  The displays include cells used to house political prisoners,  the death row and the guillotine used to execute Viet revolutionaries.  The small exhibit devoted to the 400 American fliers imprisoned there from 1968 to 1972 is a well done propaganda piece that left many of our group enraged.  The exhibit touts how well our men were treated and explains our imperialist, illegal attacks on the people of Vietnam. I was not enraged,  only because this was neither more nor less than I expected.  After all, this is a monument built in the capital of the “victor” by those who see themselves as in the right.  Why would they show themselves in a poor light even if the story as we know it is different. 

A trip to the north by bus brought us to Tho Ha, an island village reachable only by ferry.  This village,  going back more than 7 generations,  makes rice paper used for making spring rolls.  We watched the process, then we tried our hand at it.  Sadly,  I suspect most of what we made went on the reject heap.  We visited the community leader in his home.  He is about our age and served on the North Vietnamese army. He served near Saigon and said his primary role was to entertain the troupes.  He went on to sing several songs using a variety of regional instruments. Next we stopped by an area where coal dust from a mine 40 miles away was being made into cylindrical blocks with holes through them to provide heat for the rice paper making process.  We were more successful here in pressing the wet dust into the mold to make the blocks.

The next morning we were up rather early to board the bus at 8 for the 4 plus hour drive to Halon Bay where our junk awaited us. The boat looked to be 30 years old although we were assured of was only 9. We boarded from a tender which gained access by jamming in between our boat and a neighbor and then forcing the boats apart so we could clamber over the side and watch the crew pass our hand luggage up. Our big suitcases stayed on the bus,  no room in the cabins!  Actually barely room for us and our hand luggage.  We cruised off into Halon Bay amidst an archipelago of Rocks jutting up from the water in every direction.  I think “as seen on National Geographic” is the only way I can describe the views.  Later in the afternoon we stopped at a very large cavern on one of the Islands.  It is mostly a dry “dead” cavern as the normal forces that yield cavern formations were halted by a rise in the sea some 1,000,000 years ago which filled the space and killed the normal formation process.  Back to the boat for sunset,  dinner and bridge.  I guess I haven’t mentioned I am the required fourth for bridge.  Ethel and Richard play regularly and Dorothy travels to play in major tournaments around the country.  Give me a few more days and my bidding may become tolerable.

Friday was a travel day.  The junk spent the night a few hours from the disembarkation point and arrived there about 11. We boarded the bus for the 4 hour trip to the Hanoi airport and made two stops.  One stop for lunch and shopping at the attached sheltered workshop and another at a northern village where we were greeted with an opportunity to try bettle nut.  I did,  I won’t again!  We visited several homes and saw chickens (of course) pigs (naturally) and pigeons that looked to my inexpert eye like giant runts – see my post about visiting Colonial Williamsburg with Alex in Fall 2012. We flew from Hanoi to Hué (pronounce that with a rising inflection on the é) arriving at our hotel at 10 PM without dinner.  Dinner at the hotel restaurant was an experience I would rather not repeat.  I may see the humor in it upon retelling in a month,  but mediocre food (to be kind) lousy service and a major language barrier do not make for a pleasant time when hunger and tiredness from a day of travel are combined.  This schedule needs some help.

Saturday dawned with cooler weather than expected,  low 60s, and nonstop mist.  Just enough to keep us damp and a bit chilly.  We took a dragon boat ride on the Perfume River to the Pagoda and from there we bussed to the Citadel built in 1810 to 1830 during the Nyguen Dynasty which ruled from 1802 to 1945. The Citadel was taken by the North Vietnamese in the Tet Offensive 1968 and pretty much demolished in the bombing and shelling that followed.  It is a Unesco World Heritage site and is slowly being restored. We visited the harem area which had 250 concubines at its peak and the bombed out remains of the Forbidden Inner Palace. There is a lot of restoration work being done.  Much of the work will be reconstruction rather than restoration as all that remains are foundations.