Tết — a trip to the remote island of Dao Phu Qui ❷ (written by Ho)

【February 2–5, 2022 — A 3-night, 4-day trip to a remote island】 The remote island my friend found on Google Maps, Dao Phu Qui, is not an easy place for foreigners to visit. Even just for sightseeing, the hurdles are still quite high, as I wrote in yesterday's blog. (Not only do you need to bring your residence certificate, but you also need to have the police write up proof of your residence registration.) Because it's so difficult to get to, our expectations grow all the more. The small island, formed from coral reefs, is a 2.5- to 3.5-hour trip swaying on a boat (depending on the weather and the size of the vessel). It may just be a beautiful paradise that hasn't yet been turned into a tourist spot. Well then, it's finally time to board... To catch the 10:00 boat on February 2nd, we headed to the port early, at 8:30.

This is the boat we'll be taking today. Apparently it cuts through the waves as it moves and is quite fast. (Rocking = getting seasick.) Holding back the urge to hop aboard right away, we start off at a cafe first. It's already packed and bustling with a large crowd of Vietnamese people.

I hear there are even customers on the waiting list. Since it's such a small island, it's quite difficult unless you make arrangements in advance. This time, Vee-san, the Vietnamese person coming along with us, has perfect coordination skills—while we were relaxing at the café, she went ahead and took care of the first round of procedures for us.

Got the ferry ticket. My name, seat, and passport details are all printed on it too. Aaaahhh… I really hope this doesn't turn out to be just a dream… My excitement is building — I can actually go to a remote island~!

Come on, let's go~~~ is what I want to feel, but it's too early to celebrate

The biggest hurdle was right here — the public security check just before boarding the ship. While my companions passed through smoothly, it was my turn. Passport, resident registration, resident registration certificate, and the negative COVID test result — all checked, smooth, smooth, smooth... Except... I was asked, "And your vaccination certificate?" Since I had actually caught COVID, I held out my recovery certificate instead — "Here's the proof that I got better!" Yes, exactly the exchange I'd predicted. (What follows is probably how the conversation went with Mr. Vee) "I see, I see... huh??? Wait, August? You caught COVID in July? It's February now — huh??? How many months has it been?" "(silence)" He started counting. He was counting how many months it had been. Uh-oh, uh-oh, this is bad. "This is the period where you're supposed to have gotten vaccinated..." he said. And still, "(silence)." Everyone froze (the straight faces of the six of us going together this time). Even Mr. Vee, the Vietnamese man who had prepared all our documents, just stared off without meeting anyone's eyes. After looking over all our faces, the intimidating security officer gave us the signal that said, "Well, nothing to be done — go on..." Safe, okay!!! What a relief! Anyway, we boarded and headed inside.

What a huge relief to have secured our seats. Vi: "Ho, you haven't gotten the vaccine— I was so nervous they'd say it wasn't allowed, my heart was pounding sooo much~~, honestly I thought my heart was going to stop..." I'm so sorry. Because of the change to my resident registration, my passport was left with the consulting company (for several months!!), so even though I wanted to get the vaccine, I couldn't. I was thinking I'd do it after the trip was over... I thought it would be fine, but it really is strict after all. But anyway, I'm just glad it worked out. Now all that's left is to wait to arrive safely. The boat drawing closer to the island~ so exciting!

Inside the boat, Vietnamese songs were playing at full volume, and the passengers were packed in tight — some even laid out straw mats in the aisle to sleep. With practiced hands, as if it were the most natural thing in the world. The reason being, the rocking of the boat was beyond anything I had imagined. "I can't believe it's going this fast," (my husband said). Lying on the floor probably keeps you from getting seasick. As for me, I took some motion-sickness medicine and just tried to sleep no matter what. Even lying down, my body was floating up and down, sea spray was slamming against the windows — bang, bang — and the boat swayed and lurched from side to side. But about two and a half hours later...

Landing!! Pixel people spill out of the ship

Normally, ports tend to get dirty because so many people are coming and going. But here the water is a clear, transparent blue—so beautiful. I can't wait to see what kinds of sights await me from here on out. Even after arriving, we were taken to a military building where foreigners are checked. I handed over all my documents, filled in a ledger that had been notified in advance, and while it wasn't as strict as when leaving, even the police officers were full of warmth and friendliness. And so we set off to move to our lodging villa, but... Huh? Where's the car for the trip? There's no car to be found... A rental motorbike was already waiting at the port. Sure, I did request one, but is this where we start moving? What am I supposed to do with my huge suitcase? Yes, they're used to it. Basically everyone loads up onto motorbikes to get around. On this island I hardly ever saw any cars. (Two while we were traveling, and about three at the port on the way back.)

The flyer shop owner was used to it, and said, "Alright, I'll load it up for you." He casually looped a rubber-hose-like cord loosely around the cargo bed to secure it. "Now then, I'll guide you to the flyer~," he said, and off he went, trotting along.

We arrived at the villa in barely 10 minutes. A colorful, cute building right by the coast. Well now, it's still just past noon. Let's unpack, kick back with a nice beer, and then it's off to explore the island. Relocation Life Ranking