So, though yes, I do have lots of bells and whistles to distract me, I wake up every morning to see if my friend has blogged and she hasn't. I can only conclude she isn't talking to me. Which is easy to conclude since she isn't in fact, in any form whatsoever communicating with me- not even making chipper or sarcastic comments about my photos. I can't say I've gotten a strong psychic message from her either. The only thing I know about her life is that her husband may or may not have bought a van down by the river. Which while seeming inconsequential, I know, is a story... a thing i've missed. But how can that be helped, ... i wonder? Sure its only been like 9-10 days or something but then I couldve died yesterday so sometimes silence matters. But we all make choices. There are loads of people I haven't talked to in 9 days. Except for Cathy of course who manages to talk to me everyotherdayatleast.
And we all could've died for that matter, yesterday. Or tomorrow even. So if I had my last letter would've been to Bruckner about young werther, and what would that say but that I died alone in a foreign land, indebted and adventuring. Though I did hear a chilling story about a backpacker being brought to the farmstay since they were the only ones in the area that spoke english, and they thought he was ill, and then gravely ill. But by then it was too late- becausethe entire time, he didn't think he was that bad. But delirious people who've had a fever for 4 days shouldn't be trusted. Nor should they be without medical attention. And they should tell people. And they got him to a hospital in da nang, and then they were encouraging the staff to get him to Saigon, but by then his legs had turned black and he'd died. This was on top of a story from a guy who had just recovered from Dengue Fever. Believe me when I got bitten by a flying ant the other day I was watching the spot carefully. And all the premonitions of earlier days was hovering around me.
Well anyway enough poor me. I'm in Vietnam after all in this horrible tourist town called NhaTrang, surrounded by grim looking russian tourists, which I hadn't even wanted to come to in the first place. Except I'm here. Because I'm avoiding the middle. I guess I have plenty to do, I saw in a vision of it that it was an octopus. And then I looked up the symbolic meaning of the creatures- it indicated "difficulty"... maybe difficulty extricating myself from this lacklusterfuckingtown. I'm in a bad mood though...
To be fair, on my transport to the trainstation we almost got into a headoncollision with a mac truck-think chunky army green tonka truck. I finally exclaimed WATCH OUT! The driver barely came out of his stupor [unconsciousness] to meander over in time as the mac truck began to grow concerned and flashed his lights. Thomas, fellow passanger and escaper of death, thanked me later for helping to save our lives. [saying that was the most dangerous moment he's had traveling the world in the entire year and he's been to india!] He kept an eye on the driver after that and I didn't even remember how it managed to escape my lips except we were all thinking surely he's going to get out of the way in time. Surely he's not ASLEEP AT THE WHEEL. The mac truck driver thought so too, otherwise I think he would've engaged his horn too. We were all too unbelieving. Until I wasn't. Just before my parents were underwhelmed by my skyping them from vietnam, exclaiming oh, it's green, and hold on, let me take this call. So it's a good thing I'm alive to be able to complain about this all retrospectively otherwise that would've been our mutual last memories of each other.
Meanwhile a mostly pleasant overnight train to NhaTrang where I survived on a quarter bottle of water, almonds and a cliffbar. And I passed out to WillyWonka&theChocolateFactory. I woke up a bit too heavy from sleep and the revolving bottom bunks of people. I don't know why I was so tired except the sway of the train maybe. So I woke up blurry with an idea of finding my way to the hotel, which didn't seem so far away, with a quick glance of the map and the idyllic countryside whisking away behind me. I felt secure but on exit, I'm getting harassed by a guy who wants me to come to his hotel, which is all while i'm trying to orient myself anyway, and then after he gives up this woman completely high on something pretends to lean over and peer at my map like she's going to help me. I think I have everything protected so I don't really think about it. Until I realize maybe 1minute too late that my phone was upforgrabs in the sidepocket. And now it's gone. Most likely by crazymcshiftyfingers.
Resisting the urge to return to the trainstation and get on the nexttrainoutofthisfuckingtown I persevere. I find a cafe and with the 12minutes remaining of battery power on laptop, and thankfully free wi-fi! I take a picture with my camera of the googlmap from the cafe to the hotel all the while nursing my irritation with some v.coffee. Genius I think. A message pops up from my mother saying Marley is purring on her shoulder, to which I reply I would prefer that as my phone just got pickpocketed- to which she replies "smileyface". Seriously. I know self, I can't believe it either. [ :) ] I mean I know I can at times be melodramatic, but I was being on this occasion quite literal. Luckily I had loaded most of my photos onto my computer. And I'll try not to reach for my phone for everyfoodshot i want to take. I'll just try to forget you ever existed. But it's hard. It's going to take time. I have my life at least. I have that. Not like that other poor backpacker. *shudder* *@(*&!*
Anyway I got to this hotel which seemed a bit bleak. I didn't feel like staying here one night let alone one minute. But it seemed ok to give myself a break and then find something else the next day- which is what i'm doing, and paying more because seriously, i'm over it, so i'm moving digs- and then booking a bus out of this place. Ok self- be patient! Because of tet it's going to take a few days- day 1 DONE. 2 more to go. I can only hope tomorrow to get the bus booked and a mudbath scheduled and then hunker down for the day where everythingisclosed and then get the hell out of here. Except i think i heard mui ne is overrun with russians too- I'm not sure why i'm loathing that population except so far- the flavor of this icecream is not to my taste. And i found myself so much more in love with hanoi- which was unexpected really. So I dont know what to do. But berate the fact that things are written in russian too, as well as the fake croissants and that weird fake mint that ruined my perfectly good mango shake. The coffee is good at least. And just for kicks i'll just assume my money won't run out and the money transfers from my job will go through and everything is going to be just fine. And aren't all travels incomplete without hiccups and neardeathexperiences? So you're on schedule self. You're doing just fine. It's all going to be OK.
-.
And we all could've died for that matter, yesterday. Or tomorrow even. So if I had my last letter would've been to Bruckner about young werther, and what would that say but that I died alone in a foreign land, indebted and adventuring. Though I did hear a chilling story about a backpacker being brought to the farmstay since they were the only ones in the area that spoke english, and they thought he was ill, and then gravely ill. But by then it was too late- becausethe entire time, he didn't think he was that bad. But delirious people who've had a fever for 4 days shouldn't be trusted. Nor should they be without medical attention. And they should tell people. And they got him to a hospital in da nang, and then they were encouraging the staff to get him to Saigon, but by then his legs had turned black and he'd died. This was on top of a story from a guy who had just recovered from Dengue Fever. Believe me when I got bitten by a flying ant the other day I was watching the spot carefully. And all the premonitions of earlier days was hovering around me.
Well anyway enough poor me. I'm in Vietnam after all in this horrible tourist town called NhaTrang, surrounded by grim looking russian tourists, which I hadn't even wanted to come to in the first place. Except I'm here. Because I'm avoiding the middle. I guess I have plenty to do, I saw in a vision of it that it was an octopus. And then I looked up the symbolic meaning of the creatures- it indicated "difficulty"... maybe difficulty extricating myself from this lacklusterfuckingtown. I'm in a bad mood though...
To be fair, on my transport to the trainstation we almost got into a headoncollision with a mac truck-think chunky army green tonka truck. I finally exclaimed WATCH OUT! The driver barely came out of his stupor [unconsciousness] to meander over in time as the mac truck began to grow concerned and flashed his lights. Thomas, fellow passanger and escaper of death, thanked me later for helping to save our lives. [saying that was the most dangerous moment he's had traveling the world in the entire year and he's been to india!] He kept an eye on the driver after that and I didn't even remember how it managed to escape my lips except we were all thinking surely he's going to get out of the way in time. Surely he's not ASLEEP AT THE WHEEL. The mac truck driver thought so too, otherwise I think he would've engaged his horn too. We were all too unbelieving. Until I wasn't. Just before my parents were underwhelmed by my skyping them from vietnam, exclaiming oh, it's green, and hold on, let me take this call. So it's a good thing I'm alive to be able to complain about this all retrospectively otherwise that would've been our mutual last memories of each other.
Meanwhile a mostly pleasant overnight train to NhaTrang where I survived on a quarter bottle of water, almonds and a cliffbar. And I passed out to WillyWonka&theChocolateFactory. I woke up a bit too heavy from sleep and the revolving bottom bunks of people. I don't know why I was so tired except the sway of the train maybe. So I woke up blurry with an idea of finding my way to the hotel, which didn't seem so far away, with a quick glance of the map and the idyllic countryside whisking away behind me. I felt secure but on exit, I'm getting harassed by a guy who wants me to come to his hotel, which is all while i'm trying to orient myself anyway, and then after he gives up this woman completely high on something pretends to lean over and peer at my map like she's going to help me. I think I have everything protected so I don't really think about it. Until I realize maybe 1minute too late that my phone was upforgrabs in the sidepocket. And now it's gone. Most likely by crazymcshiftyfingers.
Resisting the urge to return to the trainstation and get on the nexttrainoutofthisfuckingtown I persevere. I find a cafe and with the 12minutes remaining of battery power on laptop, and thankfully free wi-fi! I take a picture with my camera of the googlmap from the cafe to the hotel all the while nursing my irritation with some v.coffee. Genius I think. A message pops up from my mother saying Marley is purring on her shoulder, to which I reply I would prefer that as my phone just got pickpocketed- to which she replies "smileyface". Seriously. I know self, I can't believe it either. [ :) ] I mean I know I can at times be melodramatic, but I was being on this occasion quite literal. Luckily I had loaded most of my photos onto my computer. And I'll try not to reach for my phone for everyfoodshot i want to take. I'll just try to forget you ever existed. But it's hard. It's going to take time. I have my life at least. I have that. Not like that other poor backpacker. *shudder* *@(*&!*
Anyway I got to this hotel which seemed a bit bleak. I didn't feel like staying here one night let alone one minute. But it seemed ok to give myself a break and then find something else the next day- which is what i'm doing, and paying more because seriously, i'm over it, so i'm moving digs- and then booking a bus out of this place. Ok self- be patient! Because of tet it's going to take a few days- day 1 DONE. 2 more to go. I can only hope tomorrow to get the bus booked and a mudbath scheduled and then hunker down for the day where everythingisclosed and then get the hell out of here. Except i think i heard mui ne is overrun with russians too- I'm not sure why i'm loathing that population except so far- the flavor of this icecream is not to my taste. And i found myself so much more in love with hanoi- which was unexpected really. So I dont know what to do. But berate the fact that things are written in russian too, as well as the fake croissants and that weird fake mint that ruined my perfectly good mango shake. The coffee is good at least. And just for kicks i'll just assume my money won't run out and the money transfers from my job will go through and everything is going to be just fine. And aren't all travels incomplete without hiccups and neardeathexperiences? So you're on schedule self. You're doing just fine. It's all going to be OK.
-.
2 comments:
Gasp! I would never give you a smiley face if I got a message that your phone at been pick pocketed.
Yes, it will be ok. Virtual hugs.
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