RACH GIA, March 11 — My mission to locate and interview the rescue teams looking for the missing Malaysia Airlines flight MH370 seems nearly as arduous as the search for the plane itself.

On Saturday evening, after a tough day interviewing distressed relatives at the Kuala Lumpur International Airport (KLIA), my office told me and my colleague, photographer Choo Choy May, to fly to Ho Chi Minh City that very night.

Along with two of our colleagues from The Malay Mail — reporter Prakash Gunalan and photographer Muhammad Arif Kartono — we managed to buy plane tickets at the eleventh hour, changed some ringgit to US dollars, and just about made it.

Poor Arif didn’t even have time to pack a T-shirt, bringing just a camera and a passport.

Hi Chi Minh City

Ho Chi Minh City, or Saigon, as it is commonly known, is a lovely bustling city full of motorbikes.

But we didn’t get to explore it as we had to go to Vietnam’s southernmost Ca Mau province on Sunday. Local media had reported that rescue teams were located there as MH370 was initially thought to have crashed off Tho Chu Island, northwest of Ca Mau (pronounced kah-mau).

We were fortunate to have an interpreter, Viet, who frantically made calls to the local press, and even senior government officials on Sunday morning, hoping to help build our network in Ho Chi Minh City so that we might get official updates before heading to Ca Mau.

No luck though. They didn’t want to entertain strangers and foreigners on the phone. Fair enough.

So May and I decided to just head towards Ca Mau, a small 380km away from Ho Chi Minh City. But Prakash and Arif stayed behind to cover the Malaysian embassy and Foreign Ministry, and in case MAS sent families here.

In Malaysia, 380km, roughly the distance from Kuala Lumpur to Penang, would have taken a mere three hours plus journey. But there are no highways in this part of Vietnam; only narrow two-lane roads.

Together with May and two reporters from Oriental Daily and Sinar Harian — Yap Jia Hee and Farah Zamira Farush Khan — who met us in Ho Chi Minh City, we hopped on a sleeper bus that took eight hours to reach Ca Mau.

The double decker sleeper bus from Ho Chi Minh City to Ca Mau.

A sleeper bus has seats that recline all the way so that you can lie down throughout the bumpy journey, if you can ignore the very loud fifties Vietnamese music and the constant honking.

This bus was a double-decker. Both May and I were seated on top.

One woman decided to ignore the terribly loud fifties music by watching porn on her phone. She kept her earplugs on.

Unfortunately, since she was at the lower deck, May, from on top, happened to catch sight of her X-rated entertainment.

When the woman, who was wearing the ubiquitous face mask that most Vietnamese wear on the dusty streets choked with motorbike exhaust, caught May staring at her, she merely shifted her position and continued watching the flick.

It is unclear who was more embarrassed.

Ca Mau

Finally, we arrived at Ca Mau at 10.30pm. The bus had stopped earlier at about 7 so that we could have a quick dinner.

Ordering food consisted mostly of pointing at dishes. The Vietnamese rice porridge and braised chicken was excellent. Nothing can beat Vietnamese coffee. It’s thick and sweet, even if drunk black, as is the usual fashion, and it’s pronounced kah-fay, like in French.

The four of us decided to find out early the next morning if there rescue teams were stationed at Ca Mau.

Finding a translator was paramount as our translator in Ho Chi Minh City hadn’t been able to come with us.

Boo (right) reacting after the hotel owner (middle) in Rach Gia says that she cannot take us to the army headquarters.

So early on Monday, we spoke to the receptionist at our hotel, who managed to get us an English-speaking tour guide called Tam.

Tam, who is a freelancer, told us that he would get us to the nearby local army headquarters to find out if there were indeed any search and rescue teams stationed at Ca Mau.

So Tam and I went  to their office. I was a bit nervous, but just remembered what I always do when interviewing strangers — whether it’s a high-ranking minister or some random passerby on the street — smile. The universal facial expression of welcome.

Anyway, an officer told us that the rescue teams were located at Phu Quoc Island, which was a three-hour drive and a two-hour boat ride away.

He also advised us to first get permission from the army at the Kien Giang province up north before heading to Phu Quoc.

Sigh. More travelling time and nary an interview in sight.

A bicycle in Rach Gia. Bycicles are rare though; most ride motorbikes.

Ca Mau is a small town, with just a few clothing stores dotting the streets and a tiny market not far from the army headquarters, smelling of raw fish.

Even our guide Tam said that he wanted to find another job as he can’t do much in Ca Mau.

We rushed to get our bus tickets for Kien Giang. Eventually, we left at 11am.

It turned out to be a van instead of a bus. A van which so crammed that we barely had space to fit our luggage. Thankfully, no one was watching porn in the cramped quarters.

Through narrow roads that curved past small houses and paddy fields, the van driver cheerfully honked his way and  seemed to always drive in the middle of both lanes, even into oncoming traffic.

I just tried to sleep.

The van stopped at noon for lunch.

I finally had pho, the famous Vietnamese beef noodle dish.

One hawker tried to sell us fried mice. It was a bit hard to tell what it was at first, but with a toothy grin, he made squeaky noises and mimicked a mouse running across the floor. Then we got it, and politely declined.

We finally reached Kien Giang province three hours later at 1pm.

A Vietnamese woman in Rach Gia selling food in a little basket.

Kien Giang

Upon reaching, we had to take motorbikes to the capital city, Rach Gia (pronounced rudd-ya), a ten-minute ride away.

So we joined the throng of motorbikes on the busy streets. There were a lot more boutiques and just generally more activity here than in Ca Mau.

We went to a couple of hotels, hoping to find an English-speaking Vietnamese who could take us to the local army headquarters here.

We weren’t so fortunate this time.

Seeing that it was almost 5pm, we just decided to go to the army ourselves. If all else fails, there’s always Google Translate and two of our interpreters on speed dial.

We hailed a taxi. Well actually, we went to a telecommunications store and coaxed the poor lady (who could speak English) working there into helping and calling a cab for us.

She was really nice.

We got in to a cab a few minutes later and told the driver - Army.

He seemed to get what we said, as he repeated “Army”.

But we ended up at a cafe called Amy Coffee.

We should have known. It’s more likely for four tourists to visit a cafe, than the army headquarters. We didn’t tell him we were from the media, after all.

May mimicked a soldier’s salute and guns firing. He still seemed clueless.

The Vietnamese word for ‘army’ on Google Translate that is shown to the taxi driver after he mistakenly takes us to a café.

Google Translate saved the day.

He smacked his head when he saw the Vietnamese word for “army” on Jia Hee’s phone.

Off we went to the real army headquarters.

An officer at the gate there, who was carrying a toddler, didn’t seem to understand us. The kid looked as uncomprehending. We were hesitant to use Google Translate to translate whole sentences of dangerous-sounding things like plane crashes.

So Viet, our helpful interpreter, translated what we wanted to the officer on the phone.

But the officer said we needed to get permission from the army on Phu Quoc Island itself.

So we’ll take a boat this morning to the island. And that would complete our entire range of transportation used in Vietnam here - plane, bus, van, motorbike, taxi and boat.

Maybe we’ll get lucky and go on a helicopter next.

And of course, get plenty of interviews with the kind permission of the Vietnamese authorities to provide more coverage of the search and rescue mission for the missing MH370 here.

Wish us luck!

A woman selling meat in Ca Mau, Vietnam’s southernmost province.