Sagas abound

Sometimes it seems like the cards are stacked against you. After being told our flight was late from Saigon, only later to find that it wasn’t late at all, and missing our flight, we had another attempt the next day. This time the flight was delayed for a couple of hours. Nothing was updated on the board of flight details.

We boarded our very short flight and landed about an hour later in Da Lat. Because of the altitude Da Lat is considerably colder than Saigon. It almost felt as cold as home did when we left. The airport did not have a counter that issued taxi vouchers as many do, to save tourists from being ripped off, so we had to run the gauntlet of taxi drivers outside the airport. We eventually got in a taxi with a lady driving and she took us into the city, then keep going, into some dark roads in the country. I said to Kim “I think she is lost”. Luckily I had bought a SIM card and using Google translate in speaker mode, I got my phone to ask “Are you lost?” in Vietnamese. I didn’t get any reaction except an uncomfortable laugh. Eventually the taxi driver stopped and asked for directions.

We could be forgiven for feeling slightly hot under the collar. After more driving around we got to a T intersection and stopped. Kim angrily demanded that she ring the hotel and ask them. By now the taxi was approaching 1/2 a million Dong, but we were told it should only be 360,000 at the airport. It is easy to think that these sorts of events are not accidental. I am pretty jaded about taxi drivers overseas and some Vietnamese taxi drivers have form for charging “what the market will bear”.

Eventually we arrived at almost midnight. We were met at the gate by a nice bloke, he introduced himself as “Mitter Trung”. Where we stayed was a like a Swiss village in the mountains. The resort had only been open for a few weeks. The main restaurant was unfinished. We had a whole house to ourselves, for about 70 bucks per night.

An old lady selling vegetables at the market in Da Lat

In Dal Lat we just went into the city and had lunch. We needed to relax after the travelling and the sagas that we had experienced. We visited the local market, had coffees and beers and just watched the world go by. After two nights we caught a bus to Nah Trang.

Sadly the bus was full of noisy British tourists. Two women in front of us had their seats so far back that it was difficult to even get into our seats. I put my seat back and it caused the bloke behind me to have to sit sideways in his seat. One girl demanded to be let off the bus, just half an hour after leaving, so she could go to the toilet. The bus driver to his credit would not let her. The great thing was is that she had to shut up, to help her concentrate on controlling her bladder. After another hour she got up again and begged to be let off. To my amusement she was again refused. They were those facile, self-absorbed, loud types of tourists that have no interest in anyone but themselves. When the bus did stop, as scheduled, and all the Poms got back on, the Pom behind me asked me nicely if I could put my seat up a bit. I politely told him the I was unable to because the seat in front was too close. Happy days :) Are Poms the new Yanks?

Now we are in Nah Trang, a tourist city on the coast, with a reputation for having lots of Russian and Chinese tourists.