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Published: February 8th 2008
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Okey dokey Karaoke, We are loving all of the comments on the blogs so please keep them coming, not the one's about the English though, who needs good sentence structure.
After our trip on the train to Da Nang we chose to stop off at what is Vietnam's surf hotspot, a place called China Beach. Is the beach in Apocalypse Now where they fly over the guy surfing the wave, just before they say "don't you love the smell of Napalm in the morning." Why has everybody ducked after I spoke that aloud, anyway. A taxi took us from the station and we arrived at the sea moments later, this was our first introduction to the South China Sea and it was a beautiful site, well if you don't look the on the side of the road for all of the litter and maybe a couple of army style training camps. It was a pleasant relief to be out of the tin can and with our destiny in our hands.
Hoa's Place was a small brick built guesthouse that we arrived at with the backdrop of the Marble Mountains one side and the beach the other. At check in
we were confronted by a cigarette smoking older gentleman who's English comprised of pointing and mumbling, a common trait amongst the testosterone one's I believe. This was not the Mr Hoa that we expected and after a couple of minutes of confusion we discovered that this was his brother and Hoa would be back tomorrow. Room was clean and spacious but it was not the kind of place that you would wish to spend you wedding night, something Barney that you might consider for later in the year (Go on son brake out the moth's).
Back at reception we were welcomed with what only I can described as a cross between Moses, Animal from Sesame Street and bug eyed frog. His name was Brandon and he was from Texas, after a small chit chat he discovered where me and Em were from and he informed me that all he knew about Wales was male voice singing and the Aberfan disaster. Things that he had picked up from BBC Wales digital, perhaps our next conversation could be a bit more cheery. After his offer to sit down both me and Em decided that a trip to the beach was in
order and made our escape. The whole encounter was very strange, a bit like meeting a person in Glastonbury that is just that step too far on the weird scale, too many parties not enough logic, it seems too happen I am sure you don't have too look that far for an example.
The beach was great, nice to feel the sand again and look at the small mushy surf. Now for all of you non-surf people out there, I am not going to take too long on the wave description but in later blogs be prepared there will be monologue. Back at the hostel we started on the Vietnam beer, cheap (like the budgie) but also a bit tapped. Maybe it was the lack of a good night sleep but this liquid made you feel a bit on the woozy head state. We met a couple of Americans in the Cafe in the hostel and then got some food. As with most of our meals some spring rolls were involved somewhere, but very nice. The place filled up somewhat and we were surrounded by many travellers, all ages and nationalities. It was at this stage that we both
began to feel the vibe of the place, some people just stay here and lose track of time. Good times had and we retired to bed.
Up early to check the surf in the morning and it was on so down to the cafe to hire a board that was first built in 1845 and we were skipping down the beach, however with our new found companion Brandon the mad Jewish, Islamic, Texan, bearded, tight Speedo wearing crazy man. He looked like "the Hoff" but without the muscles and the pending stint in AA. Surf was cool if not a bit weird, about 4 foot and with a bit of wind on it, not great but who cares waves were had the South China sea, I don't even know where that is. Em ran on the beach and we thought after our very healthy morning that we would celebrate with some fruit pancakes and a couple of Lipton teas. This is where we met Mr Hoa for the first time, a pure legend from the first sentence, a relic of the Vietnam war who opened up this guest house fourteen years ago and just run it like his own
home. Trusted everyone to write the debt in a book and everybody trusted eachother, which was good for us as the lock on our door didn't work.
Mr Hoa informed us that later that day we were to have a bit of a party, not before hand we had already planned to leave to get further South and increase the weather. By the way it is still around 20 degrees here, so please let's not think that a long pair of trousers is evern being considered, it's all shorts here baby. We still had Brandon with us and I think that Em was starting to warm to his madness and I can't stress how much on the richter scale this guys was, but kind and understnading with it, like an inqusitive animal. Oh yer he was hyper smart but I think some loose living on the chemicals had taken their toll.
After packing our bags we decided to take a trip to marble mountain wchi as the name describes is made from some marble and houses lot's of monks (they all knew Powelly for some reason). Nice place but not really our thing, the maddest thing is that
is where we found our about the rugby, from an Irish guy in the middle of a Buddist temple, how crazy is that? Come on Wales!!
Mr Hoa made sure that we sat down with him for food and as it was New Year all of it was free, so you don't have to ask a Smith to be backwards in coming forwards on the freeness. Mr Hoa was the type of chap that would remind you of characters out of the American Vietnam war films but his general demeaner was fantastic and I could see that the achohol was taking effect also. Well it must have done because every five minutes he was hugging me and Em, telling us how much he loved us "I love you Em and I love you Stu, F**k the Germans." By the way the table was a complete mixture of nationalities, including the German kind. Mr Hoa stayed close to us for the next couple of hours, spreading the love with lot's of beer and everytime he would take a shot (yep he downed every drop) he would clink our glasses and say "Happy Day".
The hugging increased in pace as
did the beers and at that point Mrs Hoa left for the day, perhaps she predicted what was to follow. All the people were having a great time, lot's of chatter and the vibe in this place was cranking. Mr Hoa then took a turn for the worst, it could have been after me filling his glass again and his recount of his involvement in the war but he chocked on his last shot of beer and the eyes glased over. We all knew what was going to happen but as me and Em were sat the closest it was left to us to manage, we turned the small chap around and if like it was "Old faithful" he projectiled vomitted beer and allsorts onto his own floor. So the only thing to do was pick him up and try to get the small lad close to some safety. After about twenty minutes of drunken antics, the kind that you get when the Oestrogen ones have had too much white wine - no sense at all - we were sorted and he was horizontal.
We left to get to Hoi Ann in a taxi that was built at the
same time as the surfboard and we were off again, rolling rolling, rolling. This was a great place, I don't want to give the impression that it was negative, far from it. The people were great Brandon, Mr Hoa and the rest of the gang (for some reason I forgotten their names) made our stay and byt the end we both said that you can see why people lose themselves there.
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Dunky
non-member comment
Marco Hernandez & Brandon seperated at birth?
I don't know why, but when reading this entry and the text relating to Brandon i immediately thought of the west walian ewok - did he look like him, did he??