September 9, 2012
I was determined to see my very earnest buddy Kirill, the frequently flustered quality-control specialist for a Ukrainian dried fish importer. Kirill had moved to Vung Tau to escape everything about Ho Chi Minh City and he insisted it was paradise. The beach town was accessible by a three-hour drive, a two-hour bus ride or a 90-minute ride aboard a rusty fleet of Russian-made hydrofoils. I opted for the hydrofoil. After being shaken down by a pregnant ticket-seller and shriveled boat captain, I climbed aboard with my bicycle and was escorted to the nose of the ship, where stacks of paper barf bags and rotting piles of life jackets cluttered the cabin. 

I was determined to see my very earnest buddy Kirill, the frequently flustered quality-control specialist for a Ukrainian dried fish importer.

Kirill had moved to Vung Tau to escape everything about Ho Chi Minh City and he insisted it was paradise.

The beach town was accessible by a three-hour drive, a two-hour bus ride or a 90-minute ride aboard a rusty fleet of Russian-made hydrofoils.

I opted for the hydrofoil.

After being shaken down by a pregnant ticket-seller and shriveled boat captain, I climbed aboard with my bicycle and was escorted to the nose of the ship, where stacks of paper barf bags and rotting piles of life jackets cluttered the cabin. 

8:45am
(Notes: 2)
  
Filed under: hydrofoil vung tau vietnam russian ho chi minh city vacation 
  1. calvingodfrey posted this