Ho Chi Minh Shitty

As the title says our one and a half days in Saigon were not exactly great.

But let me start from the beginning.
We took the bus from Can Tho to the city, checked into our very nice hotel – Annie House – where we finally got a clean and large double room (hallelujah). Then we went for lunch at what’s supposedly the best Pho place in HCMC. And I must say it was actually really good.
Next stop: Annam, a delicacy supermarket – and you know my thing for supermarkets. I was honestly overwhelmed (in a good way) by all the gluten-free stuff. A mini happy moment.
Later, we went to a beer tasting where jasper quickly turned into a beer sommelier, I documented everything precisely and then headed back to the hotel to get ready for the night.
Matching outfits on, we fought the chaotic traffic to reach a fancy rooftop bar, had a Vietnamese dinner afterwards, and strolled down Bui Vien Street, a bar street, also called crazy street. But… wow. That place was next-level crazy. We looked at each other and decided, Nope. We weren’t that kind of crazy.
The next day: the misery begins.
We woke up, had an açaí bowl and coffee, and set off to do the touristy stuff.
But something was off. After the coffee, we both felt like someone had punched us in the gut. Still, we went to the War Remnants Museum, where my nausea really kicked in – but I chalked it up to the gut-wrenching content. Seriously, the images were horrifying – torture, prisons, corpses. It was heavy.
We moved on to the Post Office – one of HCMC’s “must-sees,” but honestly, surrounded by skyscrapers, it just looked kinda sad. Like a lost grandma in a techno club.
BUT: I got to send my 11 postcards. Victory? Almost.
We had a minor crisis: I had to lick 33 stamps. And I really didn’t want my tongue to touch those things. But here came Jasper, immune system of steel, who took over licking duty while I prepped the stamps. Fifteen minutes, some tears, and possibly PTSD later – we were done.
Then we ordered lunch from a gluten-free restaurant/bakery, yayy. I finally got my first Banh Mi! We shared everything so I could try more. A moment of pure joy.
Followed by disaster.
After lunch, my unwellness reached new heights. We ran to Starbucks because I needed a toilet to throw up – and yes, it was that bad. And yes, it got worse.
We Grab’d back to the hotel, where I fell into bed, proceeded to throw up multiple times, and tried to relax. Tried and failed.
Jasper went out to find a pharmacy. Did I mention it was monsoon season? He returned soaked to the bone, but with probiotics and ginger tea in hand.
After one final full-on vomit performance, I started to feel slightly better. Still, everything hurt, I was freezing and sweating at the same time, and my breathing was all over the place, like a broken accordion.
Jasper stayed by my side the whole time, comforting me, trying to make me laugh – and actually succeeding now and then. Especially when he decided I was about to die and started singing church hymns and performing last rites like I was a medieval pope. Honestly, I think I laughed-cried through the nausea.
The horror show went on for about 12 hours.
At 1 AM, I woke up and felt... not good, but slightly human. I even managed to sleep a little.
And the wild part? Jasper wasn’t feeling great either – but he still did everything to take care of me…
This morning, I woke up dehydrated like a raisin and with a giant headache – but the nausea was gone, so I considered that a win.
Now we’re sitting at the airport, waiting for our 2.5-hour delayed flight to Phuket.
Onwards, with hope... and probiotics.Read more