all hail the vietnamese pharmacy

With a propensity to get motion sickness, especially on boats, I had gone through my assortment of motion sickness pills already by the time I got here, so I asked Mustache if there was a pharmacy nearby. I’m unsure of whether it was closing soon, it was far away, or if he was just in the mood, but he insisted he put me on the back of his motorbike and drive me to the pharmacy. Now a seasoned veteran at holding on for dear life, I swung my leg over, held onto the handles under my butt, and off we sped through the town, over a couple hills, and down the way to a pharmacy where there was one woman whom probably owned it, sitting outside in the standard plastic chairs smoking with a friend. It is a bit odd buying pharmaceuticals from someone smoking, but who am I to question their ethics? At this point I was very thankful Mustache had come along, because the lady didn’t speak a single word of English, and without his translation I’d have been completely lost. Explaining that you want a room through hand gestures is doable; telling someone you need medication for your boat ride because you get seasick is a little tougher to communicate with your hands. Finally my medical needs were realized and fulfilled and off we sped, back through the city, to a café from which he surely receives a commission. He dropped me there and told me how to get back to the hotel when I was done eating, and I couldn’t have been happier to sit down for an actual meal.
I hadn’t eaten anything since early that morning since the only place we stopped in between Hanoi and Halong was the dodgiest side of the road market I’ve ever been to which was appropriately accompanied by both the worst and dirtiest toilets imaginable and fruit that was inedible at best. That said, I ordered a large Tiger beer, one of Vietnam’s prized beers, and was very buzzed by the time dinner arrived. The shrimp fried rice was in good form and didn’t disappoint, and neither did the second large Tiger Beer I had.
Fairly inebriated, I stumbled around town for a while, getting a few weird looks from locals hanging out in front of their houses as my lanky Western self wandered around their streets. The city grew on my very quickly; it didn’t seem very touristy despite its close proximity to the very well known Halong Bay, and it seemed to retain its small town atmosphere and charm. My room was in a hurry to be slept in though, so I retreated pretty early to the coldness unrivaled by anywhere in Southeast Asia that was my room and crashed into a sleep that was unlike any I’d experienced in a while, deep and heavy. It was good.
The next morning came early for some reason, and I woke up in that scene in Apocalypse Now where Martin Sheen is laying on his back staring up at the ceiling fan and watching it spin. It must have gone around a few thousand times before I threw the blankets off and jumped in the shower to rinse the hangover off. Blankets were something I’d grown completely foreign to since being over here because it was always so hot in my rooms. It was nice to bundle up for a bit.
Becoming a creature of habit is unfortunate, but I find myself latching onto places I find that have good food and frequenting them for my time in a particular place, so for breakfast I shot down to the same café at which I’d eaten dinner and had a terrible “American breakfast” with runny eggs and cold toast.
After a sub-par couple cups of coffee I set out to dig the town a bit more before my ride left for the bay. Still very slow paced and lacking the excessive tourist presence I had been expecting, I came to really quite enjoy the narrow winding streets that comprised Halong City.