It was March 8, International Women's Day. I took my wife on a short pleasure trip to the beach of Cần Giờ District, Ho Chi Minh city by motorcycle.
I chose this destination because it takes just a day for a round trip by motorcycle. I also thought that beaches there were not as crowded and as expensive as those of, for example, Vung Tau. Of course the where-to-go and the wherewithals are of equal importance, so far as the budget is concerned.
We really made good time due to the slack traffic and propitious starting time. The ferry-crossing possibly took the least time with the proper tidal level for docking. So we were riding, our eyes were fully eating the elapsing perspective scenes. Houses, ponds, paddy fields, bushes, arbors were running backward as the cool morning draft were lashing into my unmasked face.
I was ascending the slope of a bridge; suddenly an expansive greenery of mangrove forest appeared afront stretching limitlessly toward horizon in every direction. Air was getting cooler, and the dazzling morning sun seemed to be absorbed into the vastness to be mildly subdued hue. Everything of that moment bespoke the perfection of human and nature union. Exultation and exaltation are all but one.
After a considerable distance of joyous ride, we barged into a memorial site for the Rừng Sác mangrove task-force guerrillas. The visit left no impression whatsoever by the aforementioned theme; save the commonly known name of Monkey Island. The curiosity has lured many visitors there. Some other boring activities such as outboard-canoe cruise into forest and animal circuit and rip-off drinks can just be recompensed by the viewing of the rogue dwellers of that colony, the macaques. The inhabitants of the island are so familiarized with tourists that they know how to take advantages of their recklessness to snatch things from their hands and enjoy the spoils. It was frighteningly amazing that a little macaque stalked behind my wife suddenly snatched a big bottle of water in a bag, then dragged it into the mangrove stumps to open the cap and drank the water. Lined along the walking path were these rogues, grinning, bullying, chitchatting with all sorts of funny mischiefs. Upon retrieving the motorcycle I also found out that the packaged rice bag hung on the motorcycle side-hook had been thiefed away.
After all, this experience is not a bad one, considering one finds something exciting to escape the run-of-the-mill life. And to indulge oneself into to lavishness of nature is always the salubrity. Mind you; however, the rogues are known to have robbed visitors off their valuable things such as wallets, purses, cameras,...and the retrievals are hardly done without damage to the properties.
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