On the way to the airport in Nga Trang, we see a Miami-style development, called Venetia, advertised in this very sandy area by the ocean. It is probably a good investment for someone who has time to sit on it.
At the airport, for the first time in Asia, we have a curt, unfriendly lady at the check-in counter. Maybe she didn’t like that so many people got there before it was time for her to begin. Maybe she is from China. Whatever!
The security machine finds the very small, almost minute, pair of scissors I purchased in Ho Chi Minh city and promptly lost, as well as my short, but metal, nail file I have had for five years! Damn, I hate flying out of small airports.
With each move, I always feel a sadness to leave a place we are just getting to know and an anxious anticipation of the next adventure. It’s an emotional roller-coaster.
The flight to Da Nang is only an hour, but I note first that Nga Trang looks as lovely from the air as on the ground. Then I see that every major highway below has continuous housing along it. The ground is a patchwork of small fields, mostly rice, with an amazing number of rivers of varying widths snaking through towards the sea. It is hard to believe they are reporting drought in the central and northern parts of the country. Like the rivers, the airplane dips and dives its way to the airport. Peter suggests that there must be a cross-wind. The remnants of the American military presence is seen around the airport in thick concrete storage buildings.
We have used Sinh travel for our arrangements, and their driver is awaiting us, laughing at his colleagues as we are one of the first couples to emerge with our luggage. Little does he know that this is a first for us.
There are many new resorts built and under construction along the beach road to Hoi An, including a Colin Montgomery designed golf course. Again, the two cities are linked by continuous humanity. The odd field breaks the chain, but it is like the river of motorbikes - never ending.
Hoi An is completely different than any other place we have visited. The closest in feel is Cusco, except that was at 4,000 metres and this is at sea level! You walk everywhere. The narrow streets make dodging the motorbikes a synch.
Now, dodging the merchants is another story! All the main streets and most of the side streets are stores, with living quarters in the rear or above. When I buy my Speedo knock-off, I try it on in the children’s bedroom! But, what a fun, safe place to be. The guide book says to have an extra chip for the camera, and it is true. A camera buff could take a thousand pictures here and each would be unique. Do I sound like I like Hoi An? The fact that Peter can’t stop buying me clothes adds to the enjoyment.
There are many stone statues along the canal. The houses close to the canal are typical of the town.
The entire town has been designated a world heritage sight - which is wonderful. The buildings are Chinese/French with Vietnamese thrown in. Many are dingy in appearance, but that just emphasises their age - as in Cusco. We are almost templed-out, but we do appreciate them from the outside. We walk across the Japanese bridge unsure if we are supposed to have a ticket. In the evening, the lanterns in the streets, on the river, and especially in the lantern stalls are all ablaze! Magical!
The specialty of the town is the making of garments in good quality fabrics - cashmere and silk or blends for suits, wonderful cottons for shirts, various silk and silk blends for women’s clothing - made-to-measure in 24 hours, maximum. You choose a pattern or bring a picture or garment, pick out the fabric, they measure, make, do a fitting for adjustments, and it is done. Total prices are about ½ of the fabric cost in Canada. Okay, I did get some clothes. Peter even got two pair of golf shorts. Not many of his cohorts have made-to-measure shorts.
The staircase in our hotel we get to climb each day.
The specialty of the town is the making of garments in good quality fabrics - cashmere and silk or blends for suits, wonderful cottons for shirts, various silk and silk blends for women’s clothing - made-to-measure in 24 hours, maximum. You choose a pattern or bring a picture or garment, pick out the fabric, they measure, make, do a fitting for adjustments, and it is done. Total prices are about ½ of the fabric cost in Canada. Okay, I did get some clothes. Peter even got two pair of golf shorts. Not many of his cohorts have made-to-measure shorts.
The staircase in our hotel we get to climb each day.
A pagota doorway.
The Japanese bridge built by the Japanese residents in the 17th Century.
The stalls that sell lanterns.
The Japanese bridge built by the Japanese residents in the 17th Century.
The stalls that sell lanterns.
There are two beaches not far from downtown. On our final day we decide to visit the non-tourist beach west of town. The gentleman across for the hotel who takes our laundry also rents bikes - $1 a day.
After breakfast, we start on the three kilometre trek past rice paddy’s to the end of the road - the South China sea. We pay the 10 cents to park the bikes (they are not allowed on the beach side of the road). In the a.m. the waves are calm, so I have a swim. This must be a calm beach, as there are millions of little shells in perfect condition where the high tide ended in the night. The fishermen’s boats are along the dry sand. These are the basket-shaped boats that are used close to shore. There is only one other person on the beach. We walk for a while so I can dry-off a bit. We see many hermit crabs scurrying from hole to hole, two dead chickens, and one unfortunate puppy who must have gotten caught in the tide. We head back as I have a fitting at 11 and Peter hopes to get shorts made.
The rice paddies on the way to the beach.
The quiet fishermen's beach.
The water baby emerges from the South China Sea.
A fishing boat - tub?
After breakfast, we start on the three kilometre trek past rice paddy’s to the end of the road - the South China sea. We pay the 10 cents to park the bikes (they are not allowed on the beach side of the road). In the a.m. the waves are calm, so I have a swim. This must be a calm beach, as there are millions of little shells in perfect condition where the high tide ended in the night. The fishermen’s boats are along the dry sand. These are the basket-shaped boats that are used close to shore. There is only one other person on the beach. We walk for a while so I can dry-off a bit. We see many hermit crabs scurrying from hole to hole, two dead chickens, and one unfortunate puppy who must have gotten caught in the tide. We head back as I have a fitting at 11 and Peter hopes to get shorts made.
The rice paddies on the way to the beach.
The quiet fishermen's beach.
The water baby emerges from the South China Sea.
A fishing boat - tub?
My jacket is perfect and Peter is fitted for shorts, so we head off on our bikes to the east to Cua Bai - otherwise, China Beach - which is where the tourists go. The four to five k. ride out is much busier than the eastern road, therefore, somewhat more exciting - especially when a car is passing side-by-side motorbikes, therefore has to use our side of the road.
Again, we need to park the bikes but this time it is 50 cents. As we have found with stores and restaurants, the more tourists, the higher the price. We walk on the beach a little way. The sand is like talcum powder, but this beach has lots of restaurants and more people. If we had more time, we would choose the other to visit again.
I pick-out my “Speedo” and we ride, slightly sore-bottomed, back to get Peter’s shorts. Success. They fit great.
The busy, tourist beach.
Peter on a bicycle!
Peter's perfect, made-to-measure shorts. The haircut's not bad either.
Again, we need to park the bikes but this time it is 50 cents. As we have found with stores and restaurants, the more tourists, the higher the price. We walk on the beach a little way. The sand is like talcum powder, but this beach has lots of restaurants and more people. If we had more time, we would choose the other to visit again.
I pick-out my “Speedo” and we ride, slightly sore-bottomed, back to get Peter’s shorts. Success. They fit great.
The busy, tourist beach.
Peter on a bicycle!
Peter's perfect, made-to-measure shorts. The haircut's not bad either.
We have dinner at a Fusion - Austrian/Vietnamese - restaurant. The service is excellent and the food is very tasty but in small quantities. It is on the river across form the old town, so we can see the town lit up. This is a lovely way to end our visit. Now we have to stuff all our stuff in our luggage. Luckily, Peter is a strong guy and carrying it around the corner to the bus in the morning will not be too daunting.
Note: The Viet Nam News paper is creatively sold by maimed or unemployed young men in Hoi An. Somewhere, the price, 6,000 vnd, is carefully scraped-off and an official looking 30,000 d. is added in its place. Actually, you can dicker and pay anything from 10,000 to 30,000. I chose the comfortable figure of 20,000 ($1) as a fair price. My regular guy smiles and waves to me whenever he sees me in town. He appears to have cerebral palsy and is in a push/pull wheelchair, but also has an ingratiating smile.
This little guy is attempting to catch a coloured ball.
Evening magic.
The animal lanterns on the canal.
Note: The Viet Nam News paper is creatively sold by maimed or unemployed young men in Hoi An. Somewhere, the price, 6,000 vnd, is carefully scraped-off and an official looking 30,000 d. is added in its place. Actually, you can dicker and pay anything from 10,000 to 30,000. I chose the comfortable figure of 20,000 ($1) as a fair price. My regular guy smiles and waves to me whenever he sees me in town. He appears to have cerebral palsy and is in a push/pull wheelchair, but also has an ingratiating smile.
This little guy is attempting to catch a coloured ball.
Evening magic.
The animal lanterns on the canal.
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