Nha Trang (I think).

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The road to Nha Trang was bloody long and I got numb bum quite a few times. The last time was enough so I hopped off the bike for a while to walk along the coast and snap a few pics. It was quite a pretty road in and I figured this would be a good place to chill out and relax for a few days. Little did I know that Nha Trang is not a place you come to relax…

Nha Trang is Vietnam’s premier beach resort and party capitol. Its wide tree-lined esplanade is very ornate in places and well-kept with the green hedges trimmed to resemble maritime objects. The beach is very long and wide and the sand a lovely golden yellow. The waves are ideal for surfing although the rip tide means that you do it at your own peril. So, on the face of it, Nha Trang is a bustling and idyllic beach resort. Despite the evidence of large resorts springing up here and there people actually come here to party and then recover on the beach the day after. I’d like to recount all that happened here but my memory is a little vague on what happened on what day as my plan of two days relaxation turned into an eight day beer fest.

On checking into the ‘Backpackers Hostel Hotel’ (it’s actually a hostel), I met Amanda and Linda, two young Swedish girls, sprawled out on their bunks. I was in the bunk above Amanda who was sporting quite a rosy shade of skin cancer from a previous day out at the beach. It was quite late in the day and the sun was about to set so after meeting and greeting and rallying the girls we nipped next door to the Red Apple Club for a few drinks. In there we met some very drunk Aussie’s (bogan’s) and even more hammered kiwi’s and Brits (no surprise there). They’d been on an all-day booze cruise and thought it prudent to continue drinking (as would I). We agreed to meet up later after Amanda, Linda and I had lined our stomachs with some excellent vegan food at the Happy Cow. Run by an Aussie couple and their son, the Happy Cow was an unexpected delight. The food was absolutely excellent and all for a very reasonable price (Tigger, you would have been proud – well, at least until now, not for the 8 days that followed). After dinner we headed to the Guava bar for a few drinks before hitting the town.

There are really only three places that people go in Nha Trang to drink: first the Red Apple Club for happy hour and cheap cocktails; second the Why Not bar, for more cocktails and dancing/drinking games; third and definitely last, the Sailing Club. So that’s what we did on night number one. At the Red Apple Club we met an American girl from Colorado called Leila. Leila was travelling alone and spending her last few days in Viet Nam before heading home. She was sat with another two Swedish girls, Tina and Helen and a German girl Anna. We all got chatting and before we knew it we were downing shots and cocktails and dancing the night away in the Sailing Club. The Sailing Club is exactly that; a Sailing Club by day and a debauched meat market by night. You usually have to pay to get in, but for the more learned traveller, you can sneak in by taking the beachside route. Most night’s people venture out from the Sailing Club to the beach for a midnight swim and other night-time beach ‘activities’. But you have to beware, it’s not just beach hawkers that prowl the promenade in Nha Trang, it’s the motorcycle gangs you need to be aware of.

Nha Trang is a good fun party place, but this reputation has somewhat been marred by the crime there. Some would use the terms entrepreneurial or opportunistic, I prefer thieving little bastards. You really do need to be careful in Nha Trang and some basic rules apply; never go out or walk home alone (even if it’s just around the corner); never take a moto by night and never, ever take any valuables out with you. Thankfully I abided by these rules every night, but most do not and there was not a single person on holiday in Nha Trang who did not know someone or had met someone who had been robbed, mugged or scammed in Nha Trang. If I could write for Rough Guide or Lonely Planet I would advise to steer clear and see how the robbing little shits fare when they’ve no prey and free income. The sad thing is the whole thing is run by the local mafia, of which the police are a part. There’s no help for you in Nha Trang is you get stiffed other than pay the bail-out to get your stuff back, which was about two million dong (roughly $100) when I was there.

So, where was I… robbing twats, corrupt police… ah, yes… so a good few days were spent on the piss, meeting and partying with new people. I met a good fun bloke called Harry (he became infamous later on) and a few other Brits – Wendy, Katie, Ali and Sam – over breakfast and we, including Leila and a few other Brits (Sophie and Vikki) decided to head over to a water park on an island called Vinpearl. To get there you need to get a boat or better still, the cable car, which is the longest cable car over open water, or so I’m led to believe. The waterpark is great and owing to a lack of tourists, very empty when we were there. They have some great water slides (although health and safety is not paramount here) and a lovely beach with golden white sand. There’s also an aquarium, complete with mermaid show (very random and much to Harry’s delight), an amusement park and an indoor games arena. We all made a day of it before heading back to inevitably get smashed again at the usual local haunts.

One night was more eventful than the rest and unsurprisingly it involved a lot of alcohol and a beach encounter. After the usual trip to the Sailing Club it was time for a swim in the ocean. The beach was very quiet and pitch black bar the faint glimmer of the moon on the ocean waves. I never carried a camera or wallet with me in Nha Trang after hearing some horror stories and witnessing a daytime beach theft. All I had was the cash on me, which just so happens to be waterproof, so no issues with swimming with a few dong in your pocket. Vikki however had brought her camera and a good deal of Dong in a bag (rule number 3 broken). After a quick dip we returned to find our belongings not where we recollected leaving them – I say recollected as we were pretty hammered and I think I wandered around the beach aimlessly for a while before catching my bearings. It turned out that her stuff had been nicked, in no more than a couple of minutes of leaving it. A quick scavenge around and we spot a ‘friendly’ helper on hand claiming to be able to help and take us to the police station (how very convenient).

A somewhat lengthy motorbike ride later through windy backstreets (rule number 2 broken) we arrived at what was claimed to be the police station. The policeman there, whom I shall refer to as ‘the fat corrupt bastard’ claimed he knew who had taken Vikki’s belongings and could help us retrieve them (also very convenient)… for a price, 2 million Dong in fact, which is about $100. We agree to see the stolen goods to confirm it was in fact the right camera. Not too long after the same guy who picked u up from the beach turned up with Vikki’s camera (minus the cash of course) and proceeded to demand payment. In my infinite inebriated wisdom I begin to piece the reality together and start to question how they, the professionals who allegedly uphold the law, knew who stole the camera and where it was, but failed to catch the criminal and start to bang him to rights. A small disagreement ensued with my temper flaring a little at the fat little corrupt bastard who clearly was on the take along with the rest of Nha Trang’s ‘police’ force (aka Mafia). He obviously sensed my frustration and speaking no English he resorted to perhaps the only thing that was going to taint my anger… my pulling a gun on me. That’s right, the Vietnamese police (and I know that as he was in uniform) basically mugged a bunch of foreigners. So much for up-holding the law.

Clearly I was more hammered than I thought as the sight of the gun did not really have a sobering effect. I actually remember finding it a little funny and may have had a little chuckle. Anyway, after agreeing to the “finder’s fee” we were taken into the police station to scrawl out a police report detailing the events of the evening. In the station at the time there was another young chap who had apparently been caught stealing a laptop. Unlucky for him he was in deep shit and being lined up for a four year stint behind bars – once he learned that he started to cry. It was quite sad watching him weep, but I guess he deserved it…

Once the police report was filed (we were now pretty sober by this point) there was not much left to do other than pay up and go home. Our ‘friendly’ moto guy offered a lift to the ATM and then back to the hostel, of course, and that was pretty much the end of the night. I guess the moral of the story is adhere to the rules and never piss off a policeman, but I really would like to stress that the Vietnamese police in Nha Trang are all a bunch of thieving feckers.

A few more days partying and I met Cass (Tits Mcghee), a Saffer from Durban and a few other peeps in my dorm. A whole bunch of us had heard about the ‘booze cruise’ although reports on it were sketchy. We all turned up and were the majority on the boat, save for a few Vietnamese and Russians, so we made the most of it. The boat trip was supposed to be an all-day affair visiting three islands and taking in some of the scenery Nha Trang has to offer. The guides on the boat kicked things off by announcing ‘we are not boring’, so naturally this was the Brits’ (and Saffer’s) excuse to party. After a very heavy night, at 9.30am a bunch of us were back on it. We pretty much stayed on the boat and drank hard all day, interspersed with some drunken swimming on the ocean and necking shots of paint-stripper in a floating bar. Once it was evident he booze cruise was in full flow the guides whipped out the microphones (one of the guides was dressed as a hula girl at this point) and we all started to take it in turns to sing songs from artists in our respective countries – cue Harry and I (and some others that I forget), with a beautiful rendition of Wonderwall. The next thing we knew and Harry was stark bollock naked and a bunch of un-named drunken yobs were playing pass the ice cube… the rest is maybe a little hazy…

I’m probably mixing up my days here (no surprise there), but I spent Halloween in Nha Trang and the Red Apple Club was staging a costume catwalk, with first prize being $100. Leila and I decided to take it a little seriously and headed out in search of costumes. Sadly there was nothing so there was nothing else for it but to head to the market to buy some fabric – given we both had time on our hands (and were massively hung over) we decided to make our own costumes. I opted for the full ‘Scream’ outfit, while Leila went in gold as a Greek Goddess. I had a fair bit of help from Leila on how to cut the fabric and stitch it together but the net result were some pretty good outfits. Later on that evening we were paraded in the street, much to the amazement of the passers-by (the local Vietnamese were pretty astounded and bewildered by what we were doing), after a rather bizarre fire, sword and glass eating display. Once the music started and we hit the catwalk. Sadly I didn’t even make the top 5, but Leila came third, only owing to Sam’s amazing cross-dressing feat where a public display of his balls hanging from his thong captured first prize.

The only other activity of note (there are maybe more, but you’ll just have to ask me over a few beers!) was a trip to a hot mud springs for a complete chill out day. Cass and I spent the morning on the beach (where I got very sunburnt) and then headed to the mud springs resort for a bit of R&R. It was a pretty nice place and the mud treatment they recommended was very good and all for about $5! After a number of mud and mineral treatments we chilled out in the pool before heading back to the party.

Oh and one day I ate sea snails. That’s it.

Oh and another thing that Leila indly reminded me of... one day after a very special hangover, Leila and I decided that drinking was a bad idea. A guy I had met previously (Ben) in Hanoi had given me a bunch of TV series to watch. Leila and I commenced that day with instant noodles and proceeded to watch about 9 episodes of 'Game of Thrones' in a row. Quite simply, it's epic. And our favourite phrase in the whole series... "I like the good ol' days of fucking bitches and crushing skulls". Now that, is all.

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Photos

Nah Trang
On the coastal road.

Nah Trang Beach
Watch out for the rip tides.

Tha Day of Infamy
Booze Cruise. 10am, still drunk/hungover. Time to get on it.