The Middle Sheet

There are no sheets in Asia. From 1-star to 5-star hotels, there are no sheets on any of the beds. They have a bottom sheet and a comforter but the middle layer seems to be missing. Along with the minimal traffic rules in the organized chaos that is the streets of Vietnam, the lack of bars, and noodles for breakfast, it is safe to say that a 12-hour time difference is more than a culture shock, it’s a different universe.

The day before I left for the Orient I went to Chick-Fil-A, naturally, to get lunch. I was in the left-hand turn lane getting ready to turn into the best restaurant in the world when the light turned yellow. I stopped. The guy behind me laid on his horn and held up two middle fingers until the light turned green—his little daughter was in the backseat of the car. After landing in Saigon and on our way to the Central Highlands, our driver pulled out in front of 4 different cars in a matter of 30 minutes—the other drivers slowed down to let him in. If there are any traffic rules I cannot seem to figure them out. Horns are used to notify other drivers you are going around them, they don’t get angry they just slow down. After traveling over 1,000 miles throughout the Central Highlands of Vietnam, we only saw two-accidents.

You would think after weaving in an out of scooters and busses traveling at the speed of light over rough roads, the drivers would need a beer, or seven, but there are no bars, only coffee bars. Unless you are willing to go to a Karaoke bar around 9:00 at night your only hopes of finding a beer is buying a case at one of the stores throughout the towns or if you stop for lunch, but even then you may not find one.

The idea of eating out must be a Western concept because there are many little restaurants and cafes with only one thing on the menu. One amazing thing on the menu, but still only one. Pho, noodles, beef, all prepared and served in different ways, unique to that specific town. The closest I ever got to eating noodles for breakfast was leftover Chinese food from the night before, but here it’s a regular thing. I have to say, I didn’t think I could jump aboard the Noodle Train but I was wrong, dry noodles, or Dry Pho, are a breakfast must-have.

Culture is a beautiful thing, every town, city, and country is unique from food to personalities. Travel gives you the opportunity to appreciate the individuality of each new place. I have had coffee in the middle of the day, I have braved the Vietnamese traffic jams, and I have eaten noodles for breakfast, but I still miss my middle sheet.