Monkey bridge over the Mekong

Neither of us liked the idea of waking up at 5 am, but according to the man who seemed to have followed us from our hotel to a nearby cafe in pursuit of a sale, this was the best time to float down the Mekong River. He approached us when we arrived at the guest house, a kind and soft spoken fellow with a handmade map showing the various stops we would make along the river, the rice fields we’d walk through, and something about a monkey bridge. I am one of those skeptical travelers and when anyone is trying to get me to wake up to see a floating market at 5am, I am the first one to opt out. Maybe it was the fact that it was our first stop in Vietnam and my skills at avoiding tours at all costs were rusty, but I somehow eventually agreed to what he was selling. Besides, it was not one of those group tours I despise, but just the two of us and one boatman floating down the Mekong river, which was what we came to this town to experience. We paid $25 for the 8 hour boat excursion (we later heard you could negotiate for just $15, but I hate underpaying!)

We stumbled downstairs still half asleep, but outside the city was already waking up. A man greeted us with a nod and motioned silently for us to follow. We walked a block to the river and climbed aboard an older wooden boat, the seat still damp from the morning dew. The air was still cool and it smelled of river, of early morning food being cooked over coals, and of incense.

After about half an hour puttering down the Mekong, the dark sky began to turn pink, yellow, orange and at one moment the boat turned around suddenly and the boatman said his first words to us, “sunrise”. A large circle of orange above the Mekong made the early wake up worth it, and after letting us take in the view for a moment the boat swung around slowly and continued along the river leaving the sunset warming our backs. Boats of many shapes and sizes moved in various directions along the river letting us peer into daily life on the Mekong. We entered a smaller tributary and soon were snaking our way between other boats filled with every kind fruit and vegetable imaginable. Long bamboo poles rise out from the front of the boats displaying the particular crop on offer to other boats making it easy to quickly locate what you need.

The boatman stopped his engines and rowed the boat standing up at the back with two long wooden ores. We cut through the water silently between boats filled with watermelons, pineapples, custard apples, and some serving steaming hot bowls of soup to the workers on their boats. Everyone was smiling, lots of chatter and laughter as money was exchanged and items were tossed one by one from boat to boat with a precision that could only come by doing it daily for years.

After the market we entered some even smaller tributaries where kids played with kites made from plastic bags, women did laundry squatting at the end of small piers in front of simple, rustic homes along the river, and life in general happened at a much slower pace. We got off the boat a few times to walk through rice fields, between bunches of still green bananas clinging to high branches of trees, and fields of herbs like coriander, basil, and lemongrass. At one point we had to cross the “monkey bridge” over the water. I remember hearing something about this when the man was trying to sell us the tour. It was a large bamboo pole bent across the water between two other pieces that had somehow been suspended into the narrowest bridge I had ever seen. “Has anyone ever fallen in?” I asked the boatman as I clung to a single bamboo rail and attempted the crossing. “Yes. Sometime”, his answer.

Walking through these villages, which seems an exaggeration for what is really a few homes along the backwaters of the river, I was happy I acquiesced and let the nice man sell us his $25 boat adventure. The silence, except for roosters and birds and some children saying hello once in a while, was a rare moment in an otherwise chaotic country. It all felt very much like we were the only people around, at least until our next stop at a Homestay along the river where we were served lunch. The boat drivers have lunch and shots of rice whiskey while their passengers relax in hammocks, explore the lotus ponds nearby or chill out in the small thatched huts dotting the river. The food was also amazing. I had a tasty bowl of crispy tofu Pho, and Tim had chicken noodle soup that was so fresh we were convinced the poor chicken had probably been selected from the many roaming free only this morning.

The Driver handed me an extra conical hat to wear on the ride back when he noticed the sun was beating down on me, a kind gesture and the perfect way to hide from the afternoon sun. He stopped at another market and bought some pineapple, then proceeded to cut it into a sort of homemade Popsicle for us to eat. The juice was pouring out from what may have been the sweetest fruit I’ve ever tried and it was delicious and a perfect snack for the journey back.

At one point he pulled the boat into a bamboo or cane grove and pulled a few stalks into the boat. I wasn’t sure when or how he did it, because I was nodding off as we headed back to the town, but when we arrived he handed me an intricately woven souvenir from the journey. Somehow, between driving the boat and cutting up a pineapple, he managed to create a beautiful Mekong river wand from the long strips of palm.

I would definitely take this boat tour again, and I wouldn’t even mind overpaying! If you find yourself in Can Tho (the boat tour guys will find you first) be sure not to miss a boat tour, especially on a smaller boat. Just be careful on those monkey bridges.