In hindsight, I’m not even sure how the three of us—two Australians and an American carrying cruise cards instead of passports—got inside an industrial port in southern Vietnam.
We caught the eye of workers who realized we were lost before we did. Despite the language barriers and poor cellular connections that prevented us from using Google Translate, we eventually caught up and learned we’d gotten dropped off at the wrong port.
We had been headed back to meet our cruise ship. If you’ve ever taken a cruise, you know the ship will leave without you if you’re late. We planned to arrive with plenty of time to spare, but wandering around lost at this port we didn’t know existed was cutting into our buffer.
While we were looking for a rideshare nearby, our new port worker friends were firing up their motorcycles to give us rides back to the port.
Normally, I wouldn’t take a ride with a random stranger, especially one riding a motorcycle, but there were three of us and we had a ship to catch. While we could see the ship from where we were, it was too far to walk and there were no Grab drivers nearby. As it turns out, similar scenarios had been playing out all day as other cruise passengers made the same mistake we did.
We were traveling through Southeast Asia on the Norwegian Jewel. We started in the Philippines and cruised to Singapore through Malaysia, Brunei and Vietnam.
We had spent our day in port on our own getting to know Vung Tau, a beach town a couple of hours’ drive from Ho Chi Minh City. We took a long walk through a waterfront park full of sculptures, sipped Vietnamese coffee and had an authentic local meal at a neighborhood restaurant.
We were looking forward to an afternoon at the spa when we realized we weren’t walking to the ship. Our new friends offered us rides on their motorcycles and off we went.
It was a glorious ride on a sunny November day. It reminded me of being a little kid riding on my uncle’s motorcycle in India. It was one of those moments when a 30-year-old memory felt close enough to touch. It wasn’t long until we were at the right cruise port.
We offered our friends what local currency we had to thank them for the rides, but they declined. One of our new friends eventually accepted a small sum but turned around to buy magnets for each of us from a local vendor. He wanted us to remember our new Vietnamese friends and our travels in Vietnam, he said.
He didn’t know how much I loved magnets, especially the pair he gave me that day. Not only are they a beautiful reminder of the time I’ve spent in Vietnam, but they’re also a great reminder of the kindness of strangers and the people we meet along our journeys.
