As the business of tourism grows in Vietnam grows, so do ways to “handle” would-be indie travelers trying to get around the tour bus/day boat routine. Yesterday was a wet stretch of dubious promises and mystery maps and rough negotiations with drivers of overstuffed minivans that got us, finally, to Vinh Long, our entry point into the Mekong Delta.  I was mesmerized by the sandal-clad motorbikers threading through highway traffic in driving rain and ankle-high muddy water. Ponchos covered their cargo from the spray–inkjet printers and flat-screen TVs, tanks of swimming eels and crates of crabs, yards of lumber and giant coils of pipe and wire, human-sized arrangements of pink wedding flowers, stacks of garbage bags filled with bread, and most likely, a grandma or little dumpling squeezed in the middle.

It was sweet relief to be on foot and out in the open air again when we reached Vinh Long, with the rain settling into a mist, the dank smell of the Co Chien river, and dim lights coming on in the market stalls.  (And grilled sausage bahn mi and fish hot pot…)