There’s a big mural on the back wall of one of the expat cafes in Hoi An town that’s got Bruce Lee with a big can of Coke in one hand, and on the other side, there’s a Mona Lisa wearing an iPod. In the middle, it says in big letters, “I shop, therefore I …
You know that paint you used in grade school? The chalky stuff, tempera, that when it dried, rubbed off on your clothes and your hands and your backpack and your homework? Remember those dry colors, dusty and dirty but oh so bright? Those are the colors of Hoi An. And because the entire country is …
A: Our internet connections, while plentiful, have been sooooo slow that I’m quite sure that if I uploaded even one photo, no one in Vietnam would be able to use the Internet until I’m done.
The noise in the market is unbelievable – there’s the beep of scooter horns with drivers who seem to think that they have the same right of way as the pedestrians, the constant chatter of voices, the calls in English to buy buy buy. It’s all under the shadow of a complicated network of tarps …
That’s how you say it, not Hway, though I could be getting it wrong. There’s the language barrier and then there’s the accent barrier. Pronunciation aside, you have to like a place that’s rich in imperial architecture. The King’s tomb was a grand place, lined with a row of stone mandarins (not the orange fruit, …
If Hercule Poirot did not hate boats, he might have been found on our journey. The weather, cold and misty, the passengers, a hodgepodge mess of travelers from all around the planet. As darkness fell, we huddled in the main dining cabin under blankets, drinking tea, telling stories, watching the karsts disappear into the dark. …