TRAVELMAN VIETNAM: You may not want to show up at immigration with snake whiskey and a wet passport

My original plan, concocted in Vang Vieng, was to take a 28 hour bus ride to Hanoi, Vietnam. The Brit ladies had left two days before me on that ride, I figured it couldn't be that bad.

The first leg of the trip went to Vientiane, the capital of Laos. I wasn't aware until I arrived that there was a six hour layover. I arrived at 11:00 am, and the bus to Hanoi didn't leave until 5:00pm. I went to a coffee shop and got on the inter web. I decided to read some blogs about this ride. After I read horror stories of mind bending discomfort and confusion at the border to Vietnam, I decided to see if I could afford to book a flight instead. It turned out it was within my price range whether I left that evening or in two weeks (friends later told me I got a better same day price than they did booking six weeks in advance.)

I walked to the Laos airport and waited to check into my 8 pm flight. I arrived shortly after 5pm. While waiting, the power went out in the airport for about ten minutes. While it is true that a massive amount of construction was underway at the airport, power failure is never a comforting sign before you're getting on an airplane at said airport.

I handed the airline employee my passport and e-visa printout at the check-in counter. He was confused by my e-visa, he said he'd never seen one like that before.

Oh, no! Maybe I did go to one of those scam websites after all. I gave the clerk an innocent, please help me, grin.

He looked at my passport. He said, "You're passport, it is wet."

He was right. It was wet.

I'd taken it tubing with me because I'm paranoid about not having it with me. The Glad ziplock bag I had faithfully put it in had failed me. I was still keeping it in the bag (you know, to keep it fresh) so it hadn't had a chance to dry properly. I'm just glad my little bottle of snake whiskey didn't fall out of my bag and break on the counter as I was speaking with him. " ...Um, yeah, I have that too. Do I have to declare that? No biggie. I can leave it with you."

He called the supervisor over who I had to follow to another station a few feet away. He then called somebody else over. Everytime they so much as lifted their eyes my way, I gave them another one of my best, "I'm a moron, please help me" smiles.

The supervisor and the supervisor's supervisor looked at my passport, they handled it like a wet pair of undies.

"You're passport. It is wet."

I nodded. They were still correct.

They walked into a back office with my wet passport and possibly fraudulent e-visa. I was going to end up in a small windowless room with a desk, two chairs, and a hot light over me, I just knew it.

"Why is your passport wet! Why! Tell us! Confess your crime!"

"The Glad ziplock bag didn't work?" I would reply meekly.

"Do you take us for fools! Glad ziplock bags have an airtight seal! They are the best! Tells us the truth foolish American! And why do you have this baby sized bottle of whiskey with a baby snake in it? What are your plans!"

"To drink it when I'm alone, stuck in a country, sad, and homesick?"

"Bah! Take him away to the Turkish prison!"

This entire scenario actually went through my head, but only for comedic purposes. Okay, I did fear having to go sit in a room, but only because it would be uncomfortable, a hassle, possibly cost me money, and delay my moving onto Vietnam. Okay, I also feared the hot light, it would make me squint and I'd get a headache, and I didn't have any Tylenol with me, and I'd be too afraid to look wimpy by asking for Tylenol.

Finally, after three seemingly eternal minutes they handed my passport and visa back to me and said I was good. The guy also said, "There is a fan there. Dry your passport now."

I nodded. I walked to the fan. It wasn't plugged in, there were no plugs in the vicinity. Was this a set up? Was I going under the hot light after all? Should I start blowing on my passport? I looked over at the guy. He pointed at another fan further away, that was working.

I walked to that fan and stood in front it frantically trying to dry my passport, fearful that I would be stuck in Laos Airport for a year like Tom Hanks in that movie where his country dissolves while traveling and he's forced to live in the international airport. I was going to be terminal man because of Glad bags faulty products. Oh, the sad poetry of life.

My passport dried, I went through the rest of immigration, and boarded the plane. Phew!

On the flight, two young guys from Ireland sat next to me. They were traveling Southeast Asia, then traveling to Australia to find jobs for a year. We exchanged the usual backpacker background info about ourselves and agreed to obtain transportation to the old quarter (where I'd reserved a hostel) together.

While in line to go through immigration, they decided to leave the line and see about extending their fifteen day Visas. I figured I was on my own.

I made it through immigration with no mention of baby sized snake whiskey bottles and wet passports and looked for a bus I'd heard went to the old quarter. That's when I ran into Basil from Germany. I'd spoken with him in the Laos airport and he'd been witness to me drying my passport at the oscillating standing fan. We decided to get an Uber which he had the capability of doing on his phone.

I'm gonna end this post here and pick up when I get out of the Uber and enter the organized chaos of the Old Quarter of Hanoi.

!steemitworldmap 17.9747 lat 102.5685 long Don't show up to an airport with no power with a wet passport d3scr