Well, not exactly the paparazzi, but today I take a tour of the South of the island and my aging hippy guide (dressed in bright orange fake Lacoste so at least I couldn’t lose him) sees himself as a bit of a David Bailey. He takes charge of the camera so for a change, not a good one, I hear you cry, I am in most of the pics. If only I had known, I may have made more of an effort with the outfit! But he decided to take all the pics of me – and just like David Bailey he was on the floor, up trees etc to get the right shot. He also, after a while decided to “dress” the shots – so you can see me as a pepper picker, a fruit saleswoman, a waterbike driver, a fish sauce manufacturer and Amazon explorer. I say Amazon as Phu Quoc is apparently on the same latitude as the Amazon and has the same (albeit somewhat smaller…) rainforest, but like the rest of Vietnam, no big animals as a result of the wars. But there are still cobra’s - I wished he’d have warned me before we went into the jungly bit… Here, apparently the German’s and Korean’s had a bit of a go at one another during WW2, and it was also occupied by the Americans during the “American” War, mainly for R and R. But those Yanks knew what they were doing, it really is a spectacular place. One hundred mountains (none more than 400 metres high, so I guess Everest doesn’t have too much competition), all covered in green forest. I have also discovered why there are no private cars here – there really aren’t too many roads.
We start our journey South from the hotel down the red dirt track. The start is from the centre of the west coast – and the island is 60kms long. So the beautiful Long Beach to our right goes for almost the whole 30kms. After about one kilometre the development stops and the beach is all there is, apart from the odd small fishing hamlet. The land to the left is all closed off – the site of the new international airport, my guide tells me that it will be operational in four years’ time officially, he thinks six years with the delays. But given they will need to build all the hotels to cope before that happens, I would get your skates on to get here soon. But they have started by "re-settling" all the people who lived in the area. No long planning applications needed here - just move people....
We start our journey South from the hotel down the red dirt track. The start is from the centre of the west coast – and the island is 60kms long. So the beautiful Long Beach to our right goes for almost the whole 30kms. After about one kilometre the development stops and the beach is all there is, apart from the odd small fishing hamlet. The land to the left is all closed off – the site of the new international airport, my guide tells me that it will be operational in four years’ time officially, he thinks six years with the delays. But given they will need to build all the hotels to cope before that happens, I would get your skates on to get here soon. But they have started by "re-settling" all the people who lived in the area. No long planning applications needed here - just move people....
Our first stop is at a pearl fishery run by New Zealander’s. Apparently there are only about ten foreigners settled here in Phu Quoc. Nice pearls but not my thing, but the setting is amazing. I am told that all new development will be along this beach, and high rises will be permitted, but it will all be across the small road from the beach – this makes this pearl fishery site worth a fortune. The pearls are all caught here, but the jewelery they are set in is done in HCMC.
Our next stop is at the Coconut Prison. Frankly, I’m a little unsure what this is all about – the guide’s English is quite good, but his history is a bit iffy. He was a teacher in a previous life but taught chemistry and physics – pity really, history may have been of more use in his current role! And they haven’t quite got the hang of the tourist here – all the display labels and info were in Vietnamese. But from what I can gather, this was where the Vietnamese Republic (the South) interned all the “Commies” they captured from the North. Now, of course they are all “heroes” and their pictures adorn all the walls.
We then drive east across the island to the harbour. Now I don’t know about you, but to me a harbour where boats sail to Cambodia is a biggish place. As usual I was wrong. A long dusty street selling all manner of dried fish and live crabs appeared before me, together with the local spirit (“vodka”) in all manner of odd containers, and all containing added ingredients, snakes, seahorses that kind of thing…. One long rickety wooden pier out to sea with a few even more rickety boats bobbing about. The guide talks me through some of the merchandise on offer. Dried shrimp I understand, even dried shrimp rubbish; other dried fish I recognised as well as clam muscles, even that “wine” with seahorses pickled in it were familiar. But the one that stumped me was “penis of sea dog” – it sort of looked familiar, but I decided not to enquire further….. so no shopping here.
We then move on down a tiny dirt track to see Sao beach. This is the stuff of Bounty Bar ad’s. The sand on Long Beach where I am staying is pretty special and squeaks as you walk on it, but this is something else. White, white sand, like talcum powder, technicolour blue sea with a few waves (as we are on the Eastern side). No development apart from a couple of beach bars and one new “hotel” – a beautiful building on the water’s edge just about completed with just three rooms. The card says it’s run by a guy who sounds like a Brit . It looks a perfect hideaway. But I’m not about to publish the name on the net – if you are interested, you know who to ask!
I reluctantly leave “paradise” as we have more things to see. Next stop is a pepper “garden”, where said David Bailey has me up a ladder picking peppers – what was that about Peter Piper? We also have to walk through the chickens and hens to get there – hope bird flu hasn’t got here yet, but frankly, I am probably in more danger from climbing up the pepper picker’s ladder…
We then visit a waterfall with no water… It’s an elaborate place with gardens, crocodiles in a pond, cement animal models everywhere, and stalls selling fruit and bits of jewellery and cokes. But this is the dry season so said waterfall has no water, therefore no tourists (apart from me). It is apparently spectacular in the wet season, then there is lots of water but then there are no tourists .... (a lot of the hotels actually close down). Think the owners were sold a bit of bum advice from some management consultants when they decided to develop this one…
Then on past a tiny tumbledown fishing village, the boats with their faded blue paint look like discarded toys at jaunty angles along the banks. It’s called Crocodile Village as there used to be loads prowling about, but thankfully, they are long gone. It looks a hard life. The guide tells me that the fishermen work six months of the year as it’s too stormy during the wet season - I suppose that's why they dry so much fish. The kids don’t go to school as they are needed to help. There is no tv or other entertainment so the birth rate goes up significantly nine months after the wet season starts…. Very large families are the norm, and the literacy rate is very low in these villages, and even though this is a socialist state, there are no Government handouts.
And then to our final stop, the fish sauce factory. It’s meant to be the best fish sauce in the world…. It’s actually a collection of smaller factories based along the river. They catch the fresh water river fish, bung them with salt into huge vats, press them down and leave for a few months. No chemicals used I am proudly told – but looking at the production methods, I think a few chemicals may actually be beneficial. Eventually, months later, fish sauce is drained off the bottom…. It’s bottled (into bottles washed in the river – but I guess all the salt kills the bugs…), labelled by hand and sold round the world. So a clue for when you are next buying fish sauce – it’s a bit like olive oil first pressing etc. The first stuff that comes out is 40 N. I’m still not sure what that means, but it is the best and taken as medicine. I’m not too clear what it’s taken for, but frankly you would have to be pretty sick to rely on that to get better. The guide said it was for bad stomachs but to me it looked like it could cause more than correct! The next lot drained off after they bung in a few more fish and a bit more salt is 25N and is used for cooking. So next time at Tesco, make sure you buy at least 25N – check your labels…
And then back to the Seastar – and perhaps this blog should be called “Powerless in Phu Quoc”. The power has been off all day, I hope that doesn’t mean my laundry isn’t ready. The hotel had a generator going for a while, but the diesel must have just run out as that has stopped too. They will have to sort these infrastructure issues out before those millions of tourists arrive soon. The island is the same size as Singapore but with 100,000 population compared to Singapore’s three million. But they’ve a long way to go to match their organisation.
So the South of Phu Quoc is a special place. The 30kms Long Beach is the only place in Vietnam where you can enjoy a full sunset as it faces due West and unlike all the other tropical islands I have been to this retains such simplicity, I feel privileged to have visited it now.
I still have to discover the Northern half of the island. I move hotels tomorrow, so will probably do that in a couple of day’s time. I need a few days to get the make-up and hair right if I am to use the same “paparazzi” guide. I also need to make room in the bag – I was presented with flowers, peppers, fruits and a calendar as we went around today – I wonder what gifts my next expedition will come up with…
Our next stop is at the Coconut Prison. Frankly, I’m a little unsure what this is all about – the guide’s English is quite good, but his history is a bit iffy. He was a teacher in a previous life but taught chemistry and physics – pity really, history may have been of more use in his current role! And they haven’t quite got the hang of the tourist here – all the display labels and info were in Vietnamese. But from what I can gather, this was where the Vietnamese Republic (the South) interned all the “Commies” they captured from the North. Now, of course they are all “heroes” and their pictures adorn all the walls.
We then drive east across the island to the harbour. Now I don’t know about you, but to me a harbour where boats sail to Cambodia is a biggish place. As usual I was wrong. A long dusty street selling all manner of dried fish and live crabs appeared before me, together with the local spirit (“vodka”) in all manner of odd containers, and all containing added ingredients, snakes, seahorses that kind of thing…. One long rickety wooden pier out to sea with a few even more rickety boats bobbing about. The guide talks me through some of the merchandise on offer. Dried shrimp I understand, even dried shrimp rubbish; other dried fish I recognised as well as clam muscles, even that “wine” with seahorses pickled in it were familiar. But the one that stumped me was “penis of sea dog” – it sort of looked familiar, but I decided not to enquire further….. so no shopping here.
We then move on down a tiny dirt track to see Sao beach. This is the stuff of Bounty Bar ad’s. The sand on Long Beach where I am staying is pretty special and squeaks as you walk on it, but this is something else. White, white sand, like talcum powder, technicolour blue sea with a few waves (as we are on the Eastern side). No development apart from a couple of beach bars and one new “hotel” – a beautiful building on the water’s edge just about completed with just three rooms. The card says it’s run by a guy who sounds like a Brit . It looks a perfect hideaway. But I’m not about to publish the name on the net – if you are interested, you know who to ask!
I reluctantly leave “paradise” as we have more things to see. Next stop is a pepper “garden”, where said David Bailey has me up a ladder picking peppers – what was that about Peter Piper? We also have to walk through the chickens and hens to get there – hope bird flu hasn’t got here yet, but frankly, I am probably in more danger from climbing up the pepper picker’s ladder…
We then visit a waterfall with no water… It’s an elaborate place with gardens, crocodiles in a pond, cement animal models everywhere, and stalls selling fruit and bits of jewellery and cokes. But this is the dry season so said waterfall has no water, therefore no tourists (apart from me). It is apparently spectacular in the wet season, then there is lots of water but then there are no tourists .... (a lot of the hotels actually close down). Think the owners were sold a bit of bum advice from some management consultants when they decided to develop this one…
Then on past a tiny tumbledown fishing village, the boats with their faded blue paint look like discarded toys at jaunty angles along the banks. It’s called Crocodile Village as there used to be loads prowling about, but thankfully, they are long gone. It looks a hard life. The guide tells me that the fishermen work six months of the year as it’s too stormy during the wet season - I suppose that's why they dry so much fish. The kids don’t go to school as they are needed to help. There is no tv or other entertainment so the birth rate goes up significantly nine months after the wet season starts…. Very large families are the norm, and the literacy rate is very low in these villages, and even though this is a socialist state, there are no Government handouts.
And then to our final stop, the fish sauce factory. It’s meant to be the best fish sauce in the world…. It’s actually a collection of smaller factories based along the river. They catch the fresh water river fish, bung them with salt into huge vats, press them down and leave for a few months. No chemicals used I am proudly told – but looking at the production methods, I think a few chemicals may actually be beneficial. Eventually, months later, fish sauce is drained off the bottom…. It’s bottled (into bottles washed in the river – but I guess all the salt kills the bugs…), labelled by hand and sold round the world. So a clue for when you are next buying fish sauce – it’s a bit like olive oil first pressing etc. The first stuff that comes out is 40 N. I’m still not sure what that means, but it is the best and taken as medicine. I’m not too clear what it’s taken for, but frankly you would have to be pretty sick to rely on that to get better. The guide said it was for bad stomachs but to me it looked like it could cause more than correct! The next lot drained off after they bung in a few more fish and a bit more salt is 25N and is used for cooking. So next time at Tesco, make sure you buy at least 25N – check your labels…
And then back to the Seastar – and perhaps this blog should be called “Powerless in Phu Quoc”. The power has been off all day, I hope that doesn’t mean my laundry isn’t ready. The hotel had a generator going for a while, but the diesel must have just run out as that has stopped too. They will have to sort these infrastructure issues out before those millions of tourists arrive soon. The island is the same size as Singapore but with 100,000 population compared to Singapore’s three million. But they’ve a long way to go to match their organisation.
So the South of Phu Quoc is a special place. The 30kms Long Beach is the only place in Vietnam where you can enjoy a full sunset as it faces due West and unlike all the other tropical islands I have been to this retains such simplicity, I feel privileged to have visited it now.
I still have to discover the Northern half of the island. I move hotels tomorrow, so will probably do that in a couple of day’s time. I need a few days to get the make-up and hair right if I am to use the same “paparazzi” guide. I also need to make room in the bag – I was presented with flowers, peppers, fruits and a calendar as we went around today – I wonder what gifts my next expedition will come up with…
