The Day Vietnam Became Real

Ho Chi Minh City - Vietnam -Day 1

My first day in Ho Chi Minh City started with something I wasn’t expecting to hit so hard.

The heat.

Before I arrived, the heat had actually excited me. I hate the cold and I am usually happy in warm weather. I had even assumed that everything would be so heavily air-conditioned that I would end up feeling cold indoors. That illusion lasted until I walked into the airport and joined the notoriously long immigration queue. Standing still, packed in with other bodies, reality, and perspiration, hit very quickly.

I had checked the temperatures before travelling and knew it would be around twenty-five degrees or more when I arrived. What I hadn’t understood was how it would feel on my body. The humidity and pollution combined in a way that felt almost like being physically strangled. Breathing felt heavy and effortful straight away.

But more than the heat, it was the smell that overwhelmed me. It was hard to separate one thing from another. Burnt charcoal from grilling meat on the street that didn’t smell appetising. Exhaust fumes from bikes and traffic. The smell of trash in the streets. And something else that was completely unfamiliar, something I still can’t identify. None of it was pleasant. Despite the number of trees and patches of green, there was no fresh or floral relief.

A First Taste

When I finally reached the hotel, I was surprised in a different way. It was decorated for Christmas. In a subtle and tasteful way, not like the overly commercialised, in-your-face scenes you’d see in the UK. Just a beautiful tree and a few small decorations that felt comforting in a way you might not expect. It was a reminder that I hadn’t come to some “third world country”, as many people back in my small hometown seemed to believe.

When I arrived in my room, I got my first taste of how life in Vietnam would come to make me feel like royalty in comparison to the UK. I didn’t spend long basking in it, though. Over the sixteen-hour journey, with no sleep, I had also only eaten two sandwiches.

The first thing I wanted was food, not sleep. I had been excited to have my first pho in the country it came from ever since I decided to move. I typed it into Google Maps and followed the directions to the closest place specialising in it. But when I arrived and saw a large room full of locals eating, instead of thinking this must be good if locals eat here, I panicked. On day one, I wasn’t ready for that level of immersion.

I turned around and spotted a menu nearby that clearly displayed a price. I converted it quickly. About £1. The place was almost completely empty.

The woman running it was kind and directed me to a table, with a cockroach idly watching underneath. When I looked at the menu, I clammed up a little. Most of it was pork-based. The menu was very simple, maybe five dishes. I almost wanted to leave, but the woman was so nice that I stayed. I ordered something purely because I recognised the word “crab”.

What arrived was a bowl of bún noodles with a vinegar-chilli dipping sauce and two fried spring rolls that definitely contained pork as well as crab. She brought the herbs out first. Some I recognised, some I didn’t. All of them were delicious, and they made the meal what it was, along with that dipping sauce, which had little bits of pickled vegetables floating in it.

I had no idea how to eat this properly. I made my best effort, feeling self-conscious the whole time, but I was too hungry to care much. I had left the UK at midday and, sixteen hours later, arrived at midday again having had no sleep. I couldn’t believe it cost £1. It felt like a truly authentic experience and like my first real introduction to Vietnam. It was also the first time I truly realised how unavoidable pork would be here, which was unsettling, given that I can’t stand eating it.

From Overwhelm to Quiet Contentment

Later, I went to the supermarket. As a chef, I thought I would be able to navigate it easily and find something for dinner. I was wrong. Everything was different, and of course everything was in Vietnamese. I spent forty minutes, maybe an hour, using Google Translate to try to work out what to buy, but even the seafood was unfamiliar. In the end, I bought a few basic supplies and stopped at a Thai restaurant to get takeaway seafood tom yum and steamed rice.

It had been an incredibly long day since leaving the UK, but there was one more thing I needed to do before eating and crashing. I discovered the rooftop pool. I didn’t swim properly. I just took a moment to look out over the city and appreciate how far I had come.

Sleep came easily. The kind of deep, heavy sleep that only happens when you are completely exhausted.

Ho Chi Minh City felt terrifying and incredible all at once.