Shop Signs in Ho Chi Minh & Hookah in Hong Kong
One great thing about living in Saigon is that if you ever get bored there's a simple remedy: An early-morning taxi ride from District 2 to the airport. The 45-minute journey is about as dull as a Robin Williams interview.
Today, it was some language that got me. First, a shop sign that read, "Specializing in creativity and copying." Classic. Not five minutes later, I saw a woman wearing a shirt that said, "Necessary if mailed in the Koogi." Not even kidding. You can't make this stuff up.
Of late, I haven't been witness to Saigon's goofiness. In the past five weeks, I've either been in Phan Thiet, Hanoi, Hong Kong or Dalat. Stops in the coming three weeks include Hanoi (again), Hue, Halong Bay, Hoi An and Bali.
When my "winter" travels are complete, I expect to look back and say, "I enjoyed Bali most" -- I've yet to hear a negative comment about the surfer's paradise.
Until then, Hong Kong holds the top spot. Claire and I spent three days there in early December. One of the most enduring images of that weekend, for me, was watching her smoke hookah at a restaurant called Beirut, in Lan Kwai Fong Street. It was like watching a wrestler trying to play basketball.
The day after she was in her element, hiking through the forest that blankets Victoria Peak. The air was crisp. The views spectacular.
After we took a tram back down into the city -- a city as First World as they come -- we hailed a cab. "Airport!" I said as we got in. The driver looked at us with a blank stare, then started ranting and raving in Chinese.
In other words, I might as well have just asked him what the square root of 7,240 was. No comprehension. Alas, we were still in Asia. What a place.
Today, it was some language that got me. First, a shop sign that read, "Specializing in creativity and copying." Classic. Not five minutes later, I saw a woman wearing a shirt that said, "Necessary if mailed in the Koogi." Not even kidding. You can't make this stuff up.
Of late, I haven't been witness to Saigon's goofiness. In the past five weeks, I've either been in Phan Thiet, Hanoi, Hong Kong or Dalat. Stops in the coming three weeks include Hanoi (again), Hue, Halong Bay, Hoi An and Bali.
When my "winter" travels are complete, I expect to look back and say, "I enjoyed Bali most" -- I've yet to hear a negative comment about the surfer's paradise.
Until then, Hong Kong holds the top spot. Claire and I spent three days there in early December. One of the most enduring images of that weekend, for me, was watching her smoke hookah at a restaurant called Beirut, in Lan Kwai Fong Street. It was like watching a wrestler trying to play basketball.
The day after she was in her element, hiking through the forest that blankets Victoria Peak. The air was crisp. The views spectacular.
After we took a tram back down into the city -- a city as First World as they come -- we hailed a cab. "Airport!" I said as we got in. The driver looked at us with a blank stare, then started ranting and raving in Chinese.
In other words, I might as well have just asked him what the square root of 7,240 was. No comprehension. Alas, we were still in Asia. What a place.
Comments
Keep posting about your adventures, especially those that have to do with warm weather activities. It gives me something to look forward to while I stare out at the endless amounts of snow...