CRUISING THE MIGHTY MEKONG
The Mekong River has nourished South-East Asian civilisations for millennia. We trace the course of history along this waterway on a luxury Heritage Line cruise.
Considered by many early explorers to be one of the wildest rivers on earth, the 4,350km Mekong is the 12th longest river in the world, and the seventh longest in Asia. Its daunting rapids and raging gorges thwarted the colonial French as much as the turbulent politics along its banks.
For more than a century, the obstinate French overlords believed that they could subdue this mighty waterway, but it was the Mekong who would have the last laugh. From 1866 to 1868, French naval commander Capitaine Ernest Doudart de Lagrée and 25 men laboured through the malarial swamps and raging rapids in search of a navigable passage to Siam (now Thailand) and China.
It would have been quite the spectacle to witness the party setting off from Saigon on their journey into the unknown. British historian John Keay described their departure thus:
“In two minuscule steam-driven gunboats, with an inordinate quantity of liquor, flour, guns and trade goods, plus all the trappings of a major scientific expedition, the Commission cast off from the Saigon waterfront and headed upriver into the great green unknown on June 5, 1866.”
While the excitement may be the same, the conditions are vastly different for us as we are welcomed aboard the Jayavarman at the port of My Tho in Vietnam – where a small fleet of Mekong river vessels are all lined up awaiting their passengers.
The sweet aroma of polished timber briefly obscures the mélange of dockside odours as we peer around the common areas on the upper deck. Adjacent the reception is the Henri Mouhot Lobby Lounge, named after the famous French naturalist who is credited with discovering Angkor Wat. In 1861, Mouhot succumbed to malaria at the tender age of 35, after making several perilous journeys into the jungles of Siam, Cambodia and Laos in search of new species.
Our vessel, I learn, is imperiously dubbed Jayavarman after a succession of great Khmer rulers – who very likely never even met the French. Launched in 2009, the ship’s owners claim design inspiration came from the Gallic liner SS Normandie, yet inside it is bedecked in colonial-flavoured, dark wood décor, with Vietnamese lacquer paintings and amply-upholstered sofas. Brass bedside clocks and faux-vintage bathroom plumbing complete the illusion.
Dining is in the Indochine singlesitting retro restaurant, with dishes heavily influenced by local flavours and produce. Fish, pork, chicken and rice in countless fragrant variations appear each day, but Western tastes are never overlooked either.
Much as Capitaine de Lagrée and his intrepid Commission d’exploration du Mékong would have done a
century and a half earlier, our shore excursions transport us by indigenous sampan boats all around the delta – visiting local villages while sampling their peculiar wares and products.
Away from the concrete of builtup My Tho, we soon find ourselves among more traditional delta port towns, such as Cái Bè and Châu Đoc. The importance of the entire Mekong Delta for commerce, industry and food production is only reinforced by our explorations ashore, where we see everything from brickmaking and pottery to aquaculture and religious devotion. It turns out that few of the workaholic Vietnamese citizens have the patience for prayer – the shrines and temples are mostly the work of devout Cham Muslims and Buddhist immigrants from Cambodia and Laos.
When we head across the border to Cambodia, the contrast is immediate. Life here is clearly more relaxed, as we cruise serenely past the many stilt villages toward the capital, Phnom Penh. While the city is quickly taking on the character of so many burgeoning Asian metropolises, it had a lot of catching up to do after the unimaginable horrors of the Khmer Rouge period. There seems little sentiment for the long-departed French either, as much of the former ‘Pearl of Asia’ is now overwhelmed by Chinese-funded high-rise towers.
The mighty Mekong ultimately brought the French to their knees – and it has also thwarted our final leg to Siem Reap. We take bus transfers instead – a common form of transport during the low water season on the Tonlé Sap, and a luxury that the French explorers were denied.
We arrive at Siem Reap, the gateway to Angkor Wat, and I take the tour to the impressive stairs where all the leaders of the French Mekong Expedition assembled for their famous 1866 photograph. I pause to remember the brave – and, yes, foolhardy – men of the expedition, who did not return from their great adventure – among them, Capitaine de Lagrée. The stoic commandant battled a crippling confluence of ailments throughout the journey, finally succumbing in China during the return to Saigon.
For now, the Mekong reigns supreme over the former French territories of Indochina – but massive dam works upstream in Thailand and China now threaten the health of this waterway. Will it crush its invaders again, like it did with the French, or will it buckle under the weight of progress? Only time will tell.
Life in Cambodia is more relaxed, as we cruise past the many stilt villages towards the capital.