I met a smiling lady with a bag of live scorpions on Phu Quoc island. I don’t know if they were for eating, making medicine, or steeping in alcohol. She also had a bottle of cobra alcohol that she offered to sell me for 150,000 VND (approximately $7.50), which seemed like a cool bargain, but I passed. I was flying to Hanoi later that night and figured, even if a glass bottle of alcohol with a cobra floating around in it weren’t the most impractical thing to carry around in a backpack, Vietnam Airlines might have an issue with it. As it was, they didn’t ask if I was carrying a bottle of alcohol of snake alcohol, but they did make sure I wasn’t packing any famous Phu Quoc fish sauce. Scorpion Lady was more than happy to show off her wares and let me take pictures. She and some of her pals even made jokes about opening the bag. I kinda wish they did, and I’m kinda glad they didn’t. These suckers were about two inches long, not including tail, and black as death. I only took one picture with my phone (which is the only way I can currently post pictures).

Every time I get to a beachy-resort type of place, I’m immediately reminded that I’m so very easily bored by beachy-resort type places. Five minutes of sitting on the sand, and I’m ready to do something else. Also, I really don’t like being tan or sun-burned. I try to cover up with long everything and a sun hat, the only concession being that I’ll roll up my trouser cuffs and wear sandals in hot weather. I’m in expert company here, as the Vietnamese ladies button up even more than I do. In addition to broad-brimmed hats and being covered from wrist to ankle, they wear gloves, huge insect-eye sunglasses, and a sort of heavy veil over their lower face, even in the heat and humidity of the south. That last may be partially against pollution, but some are definitely designed more to protect against sun exposure. Most of them have a Burberry-esque pattern.

Taking the time to get to Phu Quoc island may not have been the smartest move for someone bored by beaches, but it wasn’t a total waste of time and effort. I spent two days scooting around on a little Suzuki, wearing a hot pink helmet with the word FASHION stitched in gold letters on the back. The Vietnamese ride their scooters everywhere, undeterred by pedestrians and animals, narrow streets, muddy boggy roads, or the fact that they have to carry something unwieldy. A guy balancing a large serving tray with two bowls of pho on his shoulder zoomed by me one day. I had seen him moments before walking down the street, so that means he got on his scooter, turned it on, and took off, all one-handed. Others wind their way through markets, or stop at a street food stands and honk for curbside service. People ride their scooters here like they are an extension of their body. I aspire to be as confident on two wheels as they are. Riding around Phu Quoc gave me a bit of practice. Most of the roads are fine, but a handful qualified as fully off-road. The best was at the very southern tip of the island in An Thoi; I turned down a dirt street that had deep gutters dug into each side. Boards laid across the gutters allowed access from street to each house, and the remaining very rough track between was not quite wide enough for two scooters to pass. Once I was on it, there was no opportunity for second thoughts and turning around, the only way through was forward. I fortunately did not end up in a gutter, but unfortunately was not able to take pictures while passing through. 

Other than Duong Dong and An Thoi towns, there’s very little traffic on Phu Quoc, which makes scootering fun instead of nerve-wracking. I even caught a glimpse of two lemurs, but neither stuck around long enough for me to get a good look. One crossed the road in front of me, and the other did basically the same thing, except in the tree canopy overhead. The Coconut Prison Museum was interesting, full of mannequins demonstrating the abuses and indignities suffered by prisoners at the hands of the guards, accompanied by, at times inappropriately amusing information placards. I feel like the presentation would benefit from refined translations. On my last morning, I stumbled into the Duong Dong day market, which was sort of glorious in its filth and chaos (a stark contrast to the sanitized and boring night market that seems to exist now only to reel in tourists). It’s less glorious in its treatment of animals; I was passing by a poultry stall and two chickens tied together lurched off their table onto my foot. Maybe they were making a break for it. I refrain from judgement. I’m from the west, and this is the east, and things are different. The realities of discovering the world can be unsettling. 

The sad thing about Phu Quoc, and this is by no means exclusive to Vietnam, is trash everywhere, most noticeably floating in the water and on the beaches. Again, I try to not judge. I’m lucky to live in a country that has both trash awareness and proper trash disposal. I don’t know enough about anything here to say why there’s so much trash not in a trash can. I remember meeting a Polish guy in the Republic of Georgia last year who had been lucky enough to be invited to an animist celebration and ritual in a forest. Before departing, the attendees just dumped all their trash in the same forest. It was such a contradiction to what he had just witnessed, but no one gave it a second thought. And a lot of this trash is plastic bottles and bags. I feel like an enterprising individual could do very well for themselves, and Mother Earth, by setting up recycling centers and trash management programs in certain areas of the world. During my Mekong Delta tour, a heavy duty plastic bag got snarled around our propeller. Our captain freed it, tossed it back in the canal, and promptly got tangled up again. Another tourist remarked that it was karma. I’m not sure he was wrong.

reality can be ugly

Phu Quoc is both out of the way enough, and not stellar enough that I’d recommend the haul to anyone, save those with enough expendable cash to splash out for flights both in and out. Even going overland and catching the ferry wasn’t super cheap. I’m not disappointed that I went, because I did really enjoy rambling through the jungle, little fishing towns, and experiencing the day market, but it’s not a place to which I’ll return.