Mui Ne

A few weeks back saw another National Holiday in Vietnam: Unification (Liberation) Day + International Worker's Day.

April 30th celebrates the liberation of the Southern Vietnamese Republic from its evil capitalist overlords and its re-unification with the North. It actually works out quite well that May 1st is International Worker's Day, what with Labor rights being all socialist and everything. This year it worked out exceptionally well that these days fell on a Monday and Tuesday. This meant, through a series of emails and a reluctant resolution to sacrifice 12 working hours on Saturday and Sunday: FOUR DAY WEEKEND OMG Y'ALL.

So I went to Mui Ne.

If I had actually ever seen Apocalypse Now, which I haven't (But still try to justify in social circles by saying I've read Heart of Darkness), I might make some references about Robert Duvall and surfing and that "I love the smell of Napalm in the morning" quote that's famous or whatever. I made a movie too, with considerably less special effects. None, actually.

(For reasons known only to Google and people with more techno-savvy than myself, I can upload this to Google+ but cannot integrate it on Blogger. So please enjoy this moment of Zen here.)

The water's like that all the time. Maybe that doesn't seem very amazing to you, but for a landlocked flat-lander who routinely mistakes large-ish hills for parts of mountain ranges, this is really something--something enough that you could spend three days staring at, without ever really becoming bored or lethargic.

Although at some point you may want to do something else, just to, you know, do something else.

In this case, I went to a place called Tà Cú Mountain. I was traveling solo, which is really kind of a drag when trying to get in with a guide, meaning you generally have to pay wayyyyyy more than the big tour groups, which I wanted to avoid at all costs. They make you wear matching hats, you have to keep track of your group wherever you go, and your schedule is not your own. So I rented a motorbike and prepared to make the 60-km journey myself. This would require a map. I set off in the direction of the mountain, stopping at several travel agencies on my way out of Mui Ne, hoping that someone would have some sort of travel aide, however crude.


A helpful man at one of these places began to explain the way, but seemed to realize that I would forget everything once I got to Phan Tiet, a bigger town slightly south of Mui Ne, where I would have to make several turns to find the National Highway. He thought briefly about drawing a map, but eventually decided writing the following phrase on a piece of paper would be the best course of action:


Tôi Muốn Đi Nuí Tà Cú. Xin Chĩ Giúp Tôi Đi Đường Nào. 


It said: I want to go to Ta Cu Mountain. Please help me find the street. Very helpful of him, though it made me feel a bit like an unaccompanied minor on an international flight. Having this badge, like: I'm foreign! I don't know anything! Help! 


But this slip of paper was worth five times its weight in gold, because it gave me something I would have had to work very hard for under normal circumstances: Instant understanding. I dutifully showed this to no less than half a dozen people on my way to the mountain, and every single one of them was more than happy to give me directions (albeit in Vietnamese) and point in the general direction of  Tà Cú. Some other helpful travel agency people in Phan Tiet even attempted to draw me another map, a man and woman constantly arguing over the map's authenticity and, I can only assume, its lack of scale. This ended in the man leading me with his motorbike to the edge of town, pointing down the highway, and saying: "Tà Cú. Ba mươi kilomet." 30 km to go. 


I stopped a few more times along the highway, because I wasn't keeping track of km's traveled, and it was mad hot. 100+ and humid to boot. So it was a good idea to stop periodically for some water, and give the locals an anecdote for their next family gathering.


After a nice little motorbike cruise down the highway, I located the mountain and began the journey upward, enjoying some immense personal pride.

Large-ish hill = Mountain. Also, disappointing fountain.

Tà Cú Mountain is pretty famous, hence my initial interest. At the top of the mountain there is a temple, monastery, and a giant white-washed reclining Buddha. Turns out, this is a big draw for Vietnamese during National Holidays. The place was packed with people in different sets of matching hats, and my little travel detours had delayed me to the point that I arrived in tandem with every giant tour bus in a 100-km radius. It seemed.


So I hung back and had some lunch while the groups all cut in front of each other and sweat their lives out waiting for the tram that would take you to the top. Then it was my turn.

Temple time!

With cable! I bet they don't get premium channels, though.

And on to the Buddha. Still a little crowded when I arrived, and I was the only bona-fide Westerner on the mountain. This meant, inexplicably, that people intermittently approached me and wanted to take pictures of me holding their children. Not altogether unpleasant, I rather like children. A little bewildering. I'm not particularly glamorous-looking in general, let alone after 90 minutes of motorbike madness in the spring swelter, in my white nylon shirt and cutoffs ensemble that pretty much became a stinky April uniform. All things considered, they were nice interactions.

No craving the body of the Buddha.

Mui Ne side adventure accomplished! 

The entire day I had witnessed some wonderfully misaligned English language T-shirts, the noting of which has become one of my favorite people-watching pasttimes. I managed to sniper this interesting piece on the mountain.

Seems like the appropriate thing to wear to a holy site.