Frequent travelers experience mishaps. It’s inevitable. There are too many moving pieces involved with travel—flights, ground transportation, luggage, hotels, rentals, etc. Something is bound to happen occasionally, but it’s how you deal with it that separates the experienced from the inexperienced.
We have experienced mishaps before, but in this particular city, trying to leave, it seemed as if the mishaps were never ending. First, I want to say that we loved Saigon (In 1976, it was officially renamed to Ho Chi Minh City, but the Vietnamese still refer to it as “Saigon”). Saigon, unlike other cities in Vietnam, is completely industrialized. It has stellar food, walkable streets, good transportation—er, not so good transportation. This is where the mishaps begin. Saigon has ample UberX’s, Grab taxis, and even UberMoto, which is Uber on a motorbike. As we were leaving Saigon to head to Phu Quoc, we needed to hail an Uber to get to the airport. In the US, we’ve done this quite often, and I even went over 2 years without a car, only using Uber. I was a pro. But, what was about to begin was the occurrence of a Vietnamese misadventure that I would never have been able to anticipate.
We allotted what we thought would have been adequate time to get to Tan Son Nhat International Airport, which was only 9km from the Sunland Hotel. The first problem is that the Google Maps time to destination in Vietnam doesn’t account for the difference in travel time between cars and motorbikes. Motorbike is the preferred and more common method of transportation, as they are smaller and easier to navigate. Cars, on the other hand, take an exponential amount of time to get anywhere in Saigon. The traffic was unbelievable. I was checking the time every couple of minutes with the feeling that we were going to be late.
We arrived at the airport and I was still worried, which meant Michelle was really worried. We got to the VietJet ticket counter and stood in line to check in. There were only a few people in front of us, but it felt like the slowest ticket counter in the world. As we approached the counter, we were notified that we were at the wrong terminal. It was the international terminal. The Uber driver assumed that we were leaving Vietnam, probably because it was obvious that we were tourists. We hustled over to the domestic terminal, conscious of the time. We couldn’t possibly fathom what we would see as soon as we entered the doors—a barricaded snake-like line that easily contained 60-70 people. At this point, all we could do was check for later flights to Phu Quoc.
We only had about 15 minutes to check in before the airline closed check-ins for the flight. The line was not moving quickly. With only minutes to spare, a VietJet employee came over and allowed us to move ahead in line. Michelle and I were both sweating even with the news that we would make the flight. But, this would not be the end of our worries in Saigon.
A last minute addition to our itinerary was Siem Reap, Cambodia, so we could visit Angkor Wat. It is impossible to get from Phu Quoc directly to Siem Reap, because the airport in Phu Quoc is only a domestic airport. This means if you want to go to Cambodia, you have to so back through Saigon. Yes, that Saigon. That horrible Tan Son Nhat International Airport that almost got us just days earlier.
We arrived, once again, at Tan Son Nhat, but this time we knew about the two separate terminals. However, this time, we were facing a quick connection, and we had to go from the domestic terminal to the international terminal. The terminals are not connected in the traditional sense. Rather, they are “connected” once you exit the domestic terminal, move along a sidewalk about a 10th of a mile, then up two flights of stairs, and then you are at the entrance to the international terminal. We’re two athletic people, but running as quickly as we could with heavy, full backpacks on is not an easy task. We exited the domestic terminal and began heading for the international terminal. I turned to the side, but Michelle was no longer next to me. For a marathoner, I didn’t expect her to start lagging behind; she didn’t expect her shoe sole to completely separate from the shoe while running.
I told Michelle that I was going to keep going. I didn’t want to leave her to deal with her shoe by herself, but seeing the time constraint, I knew that getting in line to check in would save time. There was a line (thankfully short) and Michelle did catch up before I approached the desk to check in. The only problem—when we got there, they told us the aircraft was boarding and check ins were closed.
As a lawyer, I’ve accomplished some of the most difficult tasks: settled a nationwide class action, compelled the deposition of a Global Fortune 10 Senior Vice President, and even managed to establish a flourishing law practice. But, I had no clue how to surmount this situation. I resorted to something I have never done before. I begged. My eyes beginning to moisten, I pleaded with the woman to let us through. We would run. We would be there before the last person boarded. She was wasting time arguing with us! Vietnamese people must either not like confrontation or find me utterly pathetic, because she finally broke down and let us through.
With Michelle back by my side, we now had to get through customs and security before we could enter the gate area. Another quick sprint to the line for customs left us panting for breath again. Thankfully, several other travelers noticed our sense of urgency and allowed us to cur in front of them. Once we were through customs, it was onto security. Vietnam has a pretty thorough airport security, so it was off with all the bags and our shoes. As her one shoe was worthless, Michelle left her shoes off and we full-on sprinted through the airport to the gate. Causing a bit a scene while doing so, other travelers commented as we passed by “Look at those Americans; put your shoes ON!” We both rolled our eyes once we reached the gate. Turns out, our flight was actually a bit delayed and had changed gates to the one we had just made a mad dash for. We arrived before the last passengers were through the jetway door and made it to Siem Reap on time, less one shoe sole.
This entry was posted in Asia
