Three lieutenants

 From our hotel window in Vung Tau

'69-70 I lived in the building just barely showing in gray

Courtyard between 69-70 quarters and our bar.

Park in Vung Tau

I lived on the second floor. 
We flew to some bad places during the day, but came back to a nice place to safely sleep. 
I had it much better than Rick.

Park in Vung Tau

Full bus Vung Tau to Mui Ne

Phan Thiet

In the courtyard of our Mui Ne hotel

Beach at Mui Ne.  You cannot see it, but there are a couple hundred kite boarders about a mile behind Rick. 

Cu Chi tunnel, greatly enlarged for westerners.

City center Dalat

Dalat produce market.

Dalat



Sensitive guy in the Dalat orchid market.

Out our hotel window in Dalat.

Packed bus to Dalat.  The lady behind us is taking a break from being sick.

Sidewalk cafe in Kontum

Well off the tourist track, Kontum may have been our favorite.

The Dak To runway is now used to dry tapioca by-product.

Unexploded from 1970, Dak Seang

Helicopter landing area for Dak Seang Special Forces camp is now a soccer field.

Dak Seang runway is now village main street.

Miscellaneous ordinance.

Mortar and other shell.

War memorial at Dak Seang.

Dak Seang

Some of the NVA and VC who died at Dak Seang, early April 1970.  Nothing for our side, obviously.

Wood carver Rick with his counterpart in Hoi An.

Capitalism is alive and well, even in Hanoi.

Enemies no more

Hanoi?

Did we mention there are motorbikes?

Camp rules for the Hanoi Hilton (not the Hanoi Opera Hilton)

Last entry for me on the blog. Had a great trip. I am amazed at how easily things went. For three weeks of traveling without a solid plan, everything went extremely well. The only things pre-planned were my flights to and from Vietnam and the first two nights hotel that Terry booked. Terry flew stand-by, so even his flights back and forth were unplanned. We knew we were going to start in the South and finish in the North, but didn’t have a clue how we were going to do it. We took every form of transportation in the country, except a water buffalo. The old Russian hydrofoil down the Saigon River was an excellent way to begin the travels and finishing it on the back of a scooter at rush hour in Hanoi was a fitting end. The various cars, trains and buses helped fill in the blanks. Stayed at some really nice hotels and a couple of dumps, but everyone working in this industry was wonderful. They went out of their way to wash our clothes, order us take-out food and arrange much of our transportation. We met some awesome people throughout the country, from former enemies and allies to the final group of paraglider pilots in Hanoi. At no time did we feel any animosity or danger. The food was as diverse as anyplace I’ve ever been. Not understanding a single written or spoken Vietnamese word usually made ordering food an interesting experience. Did manage to get a dose of Ho Chi Minh’s revenge after one culinary delight, though not sure what gave it to us. From beaches to mountains, large cities to rural hamlets, got to see lots more of the country this trip than my last. Having Terry’s totally different perspective on our year’s experiences as young men, was very enlightening. Sure made me wish I’d joined the Air Force instead of the Army…he learned to surf, while I learned to backpack. Couldn’t have asked for a better traveling companion, 24 hours a day for three weeks and we were still having fun when we split up in Hanoi. I’m looking forward to the next adventure with TR.

Rick

This is fairly light and particularly orderly traffic at a randomly chosen Hanoi intersection:

After we recover a little from the jet lag, etc., I imagine we may both add some pictures and comments.

I can already post my bottom line for the trip:
Now, to me, "Vietnam" means a country, not a war.
TR

Feb. 21:  Good visit here in Hanoi.  The experience of sitting on the side of Vietnam's version of Rodeo Drive with Terry was very surreal.  In my wildest imagination I never expect to see such luxury.  Having traveled the length of the country, we’ve seen every level of the economy of the Communist country, but this took the cake.  The multi-hundred thousand dollar cars, the $1000 dollar purses, the better than thou attitude, made me think I was having a dream.  I’ll bet Uncle Ho is rolling in his mausoleum.  Visited the Hanoi Hilton, prison not hotel, late in the afternoon.  It appears the pilots held prisoner here had it pretty good, unlike the propaganda we were fed back at home, lots of fun activities, like basketball, volleyball and chess tournaments.  None of that torture and interrogation stuff we were told happened.  Pretty biased presentation of this side of events.  Saw the largest turtle we’ve either ever seen in Hoan Kiem Lake, had to be 6 feet long.  While returning to our hotel on a very busy street, ran into Anne Toccket, from Pittsburgh, a young lady we had met in Dalat.  Small world. 
Spent a great evening at a micro-brewery, drinking free beer with a group of paraglider pilots I connected with on the internet before leaving the States.  Really felt like home.  Amazing how this common interest creates such a bond.  Had our first rides on the back of scooters, with a couple of the pilots, once during rush hour and again after consuming some beers.  Quite the experience.  Looking forward to expanding the friendships created over some very good beverage. Having lunch with BT, the main force in the flying community.  Hope to figure out a way to get him trained as an instructor, as they are all pretty much self taught.  Sport flying here is in it’s infancy, so any help the get is going to be welcome.
Terry and I are splitting-up this evening, he heading to Hong Kong and me to Saigon.  He’s been an awesome traveling companion.  Three weeks together and still friends.  Looking forward to the next adventure with him.   Rick

To add to Rick's last paragraph, after spending pretty much 24 hours a day together for three weeks, we are even better friends than when we started.  TR

Feb 22:  Spent the last day in Hanoi hanging out with our paraglide buddy.  Had lunch at a Vietnamese soup shop and enjoyed some Hue soup.  Very tasty, but was unable to finish the blood sausage.  One of BT’s friends showed up to get Terry’s computer functional.  After lunch, went to a famous Hanoi coffeehouse, where we spent a couple of hours discussing everything from the economic state of Vietnam to the political atmosphere present here these days to the war 40 years ago.  Don’t know how we could have had a better ending to our visit here.  Took a brand new Ford sedan, provided by the hotel to the airport.  A very pleasant 60 km drive to the North of Hanoi.  Terry and I went our different ways shortly after arriving at the airport, he heading to Hong Kong and me to Saigon.
Caught a packed Jetstar flight back to Saigon.  I was the only round-eye on the flight.  Arrived at my hotel a couple of kilometers outside the airport after the taxie got lost a couple of times.  Nice enough place to hangout until my midnight flight.  Spent the afternoon walking around some old neighborhoods and a large market.  All the raw meats and fishes laying next to shoes and jewelry still seems a bit strange to me.  Have had a good trip, but ready to get back to Tennessee.  Rick

Feb 23:  Got home last night at 7:30 PM EST, 7:30 AM as far as my jet-lagged body is concerned.

    I struggle with my vow to restrain from moral and political statements in these writings.  Despite an excellent night's sleep in a comfortable berth on the night train from Hue and checking into a very hospitable, nice hotel, this is the most stressed I have felt on the trip. 

    We just had a fine lunch in the Hanoi Opera District.  We were seated at a sidewalk cafe on a street that must rival Beverly Hills' Rodeo Drive. The new white Rolls Royce only blocked a little of our view.  There was the least traffic noise of anywhere we have been yet so it was hard to miss the snarl of the bright yellow Aston Martin passing by on its way to park across from the huge Hilton Hanoi Opera Hotel - not the Hanoi Hilton you have probably heard of - next to the Mont Blanc store.  The young Vietnamese women seated at the table next to us, sipping fancy cocktails I would not recognise, barely looked away from their Iphones and Ipads as the shoeshine man bowed down, replacing on their feet the high heels that could not have been shinier before he polished them.  Their Louis Vitton scarves carelessly touched the ground. There were only a few customers in the large Longchamps shop next door. The cars, BMW's, Porsches, Audis, Bentleys, those I recognise.  The shops on the other hand, Cartier, Canali, Escada, Etro, van Laack, and others, even though I come from what is still the world's richest economy, some of those I had to Google.

    I can only hope that Buffalo and Bao Ninh (read The Sorrow of War, isbn:1573225436) never see this place.  TR