Saigon, French Indo-China

Thursday, August 22, 1929

I don’t seem to have a whole lot of luck in getting away from Saigon. The Pong Tong sails Sunday noon. I shall stay at the hotel till then as it is about as cheap—considering convenience, cost of sampan to get ashore, rickshaw to get into town, food, facilities, etc.

There is no mail, but I expect some from Batavia, Rangoon and Singapore before I leave.

In the magazine I read today there were some good articles—one on Lincoln and a good one on passports and visas. I’d like to shake the author’s hand. To date I have probably spent about $60.00 for visas—half of that amount to England. Add $10 cost of the passport and the damages are 70.00. The next time I come over here with Mrs. H. Lippincott and three kids, I hope all visas will be down in Davy Jones domains. May the same be true if I grace the ranks of the bachelors. This is a prayer.

Some optimistic cuss has been trying to imitate Pan on a fife for the last few days. It is getting to a painful stage now. Nothing musical ever results—just the same half dozen notes warbling out with no regard for a tune.

This evening my walk took me to another park, a very pretty place lying under giant trees, not far from the Governor’s Mansion.  On returning I saw my friend Scotty parked on a bench in front of the hotel. We talked for two and a half hours and just about covered the world. He has about covered it including a trip from the West through to the east coast of Africa and being lost three days in the Australian bush after getting thrown off a train. He’s a pretty decent sort of a fellow and it’s more than interesting, often amusing to hear him give his opinions on things in general—the French of Saigon and the place itself—African natives (he lived 3 years among them)—YMCAs—French food—West Indies—South America—Vancouver, China, Alaska, Canada, Central America, etc. His ship is in late—may be in tomorrow.

If I had gone up north to Hanoi by train and bus as I had at first planned, there would have been a little fun on the program, for a nice cyclone did things up right in that section three or four days ago. I should have been right in Hanoi—worse luck for me—parked here hoping it will rain to break the monotony.

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