Travel Writing Prompt

The Ups and Downs of Food Poisoning On My Solo Travel in Vietnam

I survived and some vivid memories stuck around

Cao Lau is the local dish that Hoi An is famous for. It’s a dry noodle dish topped with braised pork, herbs, and a special sauce. It was my first meal on the afternoon that I arrived in Hoi An. It is also the dish that gave me my frighteningly uncomfortable bout with food poisoning.

The ailment that so infamously strikes travelers in Southeast Asia was bound to strike me too. Despite all the discomfort and worry that plagued me in tandem with the illness itself, fate seemed determined to highlight the silver linings of my circumstances. It turned out to be a blessing in disguise.

I had flown from Saigon to Da Nang. The city of Da Nang was a far cry from its film depictions as a US military base of operations many decades ago. Located in Central Vietnam, the city sits right in the middle of what used to be the border between north and south Vietnam. In the late 2010s, Da Nang had grown into a sprawling city that shows no signs of stopping.

Though I only saw it in passing, I could see the development placards on the beach with projected illustrations that advertised the planned vacation resorts. These resorts were funded by foreign financiers, primarily Russian and some Chinese and Japanese.

In Hoi An, I stayed at a homestay recommended to me by a friend who had passed through and stayed there on his motorbike trip down the country. It was a nicely furnished house within a walled-in family property a short distance outside the city center. The family lived in a separate house just beside the guesthouse. Ly, the owner, was a fiery matriarch who ran the homestay and her own home with all the family members under one roof.

Officially, the place was closed to reservations due to renovations, but Ly made an exception for me based on the word-of-mouth recommendation. I had the whole house to myself.

I left my bag in the bedroom and took one of the house bicycles out to ride into town. The whole area of Hoi An is accessible by bicycle, and I spent my first day exploring the old city with my favorite mode of transportation.

For lunch, I found a place that served the famous Cao Lau noodle dish of Hoi An. I enjoyed the dish, though the fresh mint and basil were a bit overpowering for my tastes compared to the savory and fat flavors of the noodles, sauce, and roast pork. In the end, the uncooked leafy herbs were the culprit of my whole ordeal. I thought nothing of it, though, and carried on with my exploration.

The next day, I noticed a potential issue when I went to the bathroom. Oh, this must be what I had heard about with people having adverse reactions to food in their travels through Southeast Asia. Well, at least it was over, I thought to myself optimistically.

Sadly, that was not the end of it. But for the rest of the day, I was under the illusion that it was. I took the bike out to the outskirts on the second day, through rice fields with water buffalos and past secluded temples. I reached An Bang Beach, where tourists sipped their fruit smoothies under thatched umbrellas. It was a glorious day.

I was so confident that I booked a trip the next day to the Marble Mountains in Da Nang and the My Son Sanctuary. But then the real trials began.

The next morning I woke up with several very problematic visits to the bathroom and the feeling of constriction in my lower abdomen. I cautiously went on my trip but had to cut it short at lunchtime from my discomfort and fatigue. I completely lost my ordinarily voracious appetite and ended up returning to the homestay to rest, hoping I would feel better after a nap. I ended up feeling worse when I woke up. I felt hot and cold at the same time. The air-conditioning was on at a frigid temperature, but I didn’t feel its cooling effects. I was exhausted and went back and forth between the bedroom and the bathroom. It was an awful state of affairs.

I felt the fear of a serious medical situation in a foreign land. My sister had contracted malaria while visiting Bali many years prior, and I dreaded a long, drawn-out sickness that would put my family and me through extended misery. I lay there pitying myself for getting into such a situation. I turned to Ly for help.

When she saw the condition, I was in, and she wasted no time. The next thing I knew, I was being whisked away on the back of her motorbike. We went down the road to the village pharmacy, where the local doctor checked me outright on the spot. He diagnosed me with an intestinal infection, which sounded rather frightening in the moment.

At the front counter, the pharmacist filled a small bag with various drugs and gave me instructions on how to take them. I started the treatment that day. Including the checkup and the plethora of medicines, the total cost was $20. I’ll let that sink in.

I had planned to take a train or a bus to Hue for a couple of days, but this food poisoning grounded me in Hoi An for the time being. Ly got me porridge for my recovery meals and helped me arrange the second leg of the trip I was supposed to take to the My Son Sanctuary, which I was glad I got to see. This turn of events became even more fateful when my friend Nick from California informed me that he would be arriving at the Da Nang Airport the next day.

One door closes, and another opens.

I felt so much better the following day. My appetite was returning, my body temperature was feeling more stable, and it seemed that the bugs were being killed off. Perhaps I would have had a great time in Hue. It was certainly a goal of mine to make it there during my time in Vietnam, especially as a student of history. But fate brought me other experiences, painful ones, ones that genuinely scared me, but also lined up the paths for me to meet a good friend in a faraway land and take it slow in a wonderful town with generously helpful locals who helped me get back on my feet.

To this day, I skip Cao Lau on the menu.

#unplannedadventure

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