It's not you, it's Mekong.

Since our experience with the ijits at Blue Mongolia, Ed and I have been wary of signing on for anything with even a whiff of "group tour."  When we decided to spend some time in the Mekong, our initial plan was to go DIY.  After looking at bus schedules and consulting some locals, we realized that piecing it together was going to take more effort and planning than we were willing to put in.  We ultimately consulted a reputable tour company in Saigon to discuss our trip.

The dude behind the desk actually had the information we were looking for, answered all of our questions, and didn't try to sell us on the tour or anything else during the entire 15 minutes we talked to him.  In the land of kick backs and bus drivers who do not hesitate to hijack their passenger load for a quick stop at Uncle Trang's House of Knickknacks and Snakejuice, the soft sell was a novel approach.

We discussed whether the price tag merited the itinerary outlined and decided to book a 3 day tour with Sinbahlo Adventure Travel.  And you know what happened?  It was freaking awesome.  We got to travel on tiny boats through the canals of the delta and cycle on back dirt country lanes through villages and along rivers feeding the Mekong.  I rode across tiny bridges made from scrap by locals past rice paddies, fish farms, fruit markets, and children released from their classes to watch us ride by and yell "HELLO!"

From a bike:

From a boat:

In Mongolia, we were pressured several times into awkward visits in the gers of Nomads who clearly weren't prepared to receive us nor necessarily that psyched that custom made it incumbent on them to do so.  The good folks at Sinbahlo seem to understand what both locals and tourists want out of "home visit" - the tourists want to glimpse the local lifestyle without having to make stilted, translated conversation through the guide.  And the locals want to know what their responsibility is (serve fruit & tea, show us around the brick making factory), how short the visitors will stay, and to get paid.  We were anxious about our homestay on the Mekong, but the family was super nice and seemed happy to retire to their quarters and let us knock back some Tigers in peace.

Side note on the homestay - that shit was like wild kingdom.  A very indoor/outdoor camp-like experience in a home on stilts in the Mekong river, it was a beautiful spot.  The night we stayed, we went to take showers in the "bath area" and in the course of rinsing off in freezing water were greeted by a praying mantis and watched a gecko snatch a flying cockroach nearly its size and try to eat it in one bite.  The cockroach escaped from its mouth and flew into the folds of the towel I had around my waist; slapstick ensued.  We barely slept in our mosquito-netted bunk due to the deafening sounds of the jungle behind the house.

Guest wing:

Hallway:

Our little group of 5 of us got on well, and we particularly enjoyed the company of a Swiss gentlemen named Franz.  Or, "Tour de Franz" as I called him while cycling.  He was super cool and had a bazillion interests and has travelled everywhere.   He also shared Ed's nerdy lust for camera equipment and brown liquor, so they were fast friends.  

Our final morning was a visit to the unmissable floating market in Cai Rang.  We boarded a small boat so we could thread between the larger market boats and got to board one of the vendors' boats for a fresh pineapple snack.  While hanging on deck, we saw masses of tourists in much larger vessels skirting the edges of the market and were pleased with our choice of tour.  Also we were in, like, all their pictures.

The boyz (Rolf, Ed, Franz) on the pineapple express: