We arrive at the national park headquarters on Friday night. They aren't in the national park, of course, or only barely, but at least they're under trees. The pastel-painted buildings are set in a little wooded compound, under the shadow of the limestone hills. We check into one of the guesthouses. Grey minivets are moving through. Tomorrow we have a plan to drive up a certain road into the forest. A place where, some years earlier, I had what might be called a religious encounter. That's not what I'm scared of, though. I'm scared of the drinking. Ever since I first came to Vietnam I was scared of the drinking.
You write very well! Hope you're feeling better... and that you are being looked after.
Fascinating details. Keep it up.