I continue my adventure and finally cross the border into Vietnam. Apparently, some people did not do their research and were send back to Cambodia at the immigration office, because they did not organise a visa before. On the bus ride to Can Tho, I come to realise that traffic in Vietnam is insane! Motorbikes everywhere and the bus driver is tooting the horn constantly. There seems to be one traffic rule only: busses over motor bikes! Eventually, I arrive in Can Tho at 10pm; four hours later than scheduled. Too tired to look for an accommodation myself, I join a Frenchman for a homestay after having some dinner in the street. The best decision I made this day!
We take a taxi and head out of the city on the highway. Almost 30 minutes later, we stop somewhere in the middle of nowhere in front of a building. No one speaks English and the people keep pointing to a flag pole . It takes a while until we understand that we are at a police station. Why? We do not know! After drinking a beer with the police officers and more people arriving, we start communicating through Google Translate. It turns out, our taxi driver does not know where to find the address of the homestay. He wants us to pay and leave. Eventually, we figure out that the homestay is nearby and manage to call them to pick us up. On a sketchy motor bike ride over narrow walking paths, I finally understand why the taxi driver could not drop us in front of the homestay. We meet Canh the next day; a 12 year old boy who is the only English-speaking person in this tiny village. The three of us hang out the whole day, spending most of our time in hammocks.
Early in the morning on the following day, we are heading to the floating markets of Cai Rang. Boats everywhere! To me it looks like a mess. It is organised though. Vendors present their goods on long bamboo sticks reaching towards the sky. Some big ships horn their way though the crowd. Our boat breaks down and the boat man takes a quick swim to free the boat’s propeller from some entangled trash. This seems to be quite a common problem here. Instead of taking the trash, he is throwing it back to the water though.
At a local market, I eat a snake before moving on to My Tho. My Tho is not a place that attracts a lot of tourists. A lot of fingers are pointed at me, because I must be some kind of giant over here. The local market offers a variety of food and I secretly fall in love with Bún Bò; a Vietnamese soup. Moving on to Ho Chi Minh City, I am getting a bored of taking busses all the time and decide to buy a motor bike. Not that easy without speaking Vietnamese! Most of the motor bikes being sold by other backpackers will not last long. In the end, I buy an almost new Honda Blade hoping to sell it in Hanoi again.