By the time I reached Dongxing, the border town on the Chinese side of the border, it was around nine in the evening.
On the side of the main street that runs through the centre of the city, there is a place where clay pipes are piled up, and the shade of this place became my last place to camp in China.
When I think back to the first time I camped in China, I chose my spot so carefully, but now I think to myself, “I’m getting used to it!”
The next day, I drove towards the border, and as I approached the border, there were signs with Chinese characters and letters of the alphabet on them, which I immediately recognized as Vietnamese. The immigration office on the Chinese side is not a dignified building, it is surrounded by greenery and looks like the entrance to a toll park.
When I put my passport at the counter, the officer spoke to me in Vietnamese, and when I pretended to say
“I don’t understand”,
he spoke to me in Chinese, and then he signalled
“I don’t understand”.
I was hoping that he would speak English next, but the attendant looked at me like “Huh”, apparently there is no English.
He spoke to me in Chinese, which I didn’t understand at all, but he gave me the signal to go.
Just when we thought we were ready to go to Vietnam, we were caught again at the baggage check and asked to open our bags. They made me spread them out on the table, but no problem.
So Now I am sure entered in Vietnam.
As soon as I left the immigration, the atmosphere was clearly different from that of China. The atmosphere is a kind of synthesis created by the information coming in through the five senses. The things you see, the sounds you hear, the smell of the air, the taste of the food and the feel of your skin.
All the information I get through my senses seems to have changed little by little.
Many people say that Vietnamese people laugh a lot and it didn’t take me long to find out that this is true.[Related posts] Sleep outside in China
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