Hoi An Reflections & Exciting Prospects

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If we’d had any sense of structure in the trip so far it had been our hours. Up around 0600 and (as I am now an old, old man) back in the hotel around 1900. The morning was no different, and with a taxi due to take us to the airport at 1215, we had goodies to collect and a few sights to see in Hoi An before we left. Where we’d previously only seen a submerged gate and stairs between our hotel and the river, we could now see a silty walkway. Hoi An would be a beautiful place in the dry season.

After a breakfast of Pho and banana pancakes we hit the road on the bike about 0700 to see what we could find of interest.

Hoi An has a unique attraction system whereby you pay D90,000 (NZ$6) for a ticket that allows entry into five of around ten main attractions. We used the trusty Lonely Planet to decide where to go and with Jo now much more comfortable riding two up on the bike, she was able to navigate as we rode.

The first two were two assembly halls – basically temples. First up was the Chaozhou Chinese Congregation followed by the Hinan Chinese Congregation. As it was still early in the morning, both places were not yet on the tour bus radar so we had them to ourselves. Both were similar, with people from various regions of China using the areas to meet and pray. Neither was very big so ten minutes at each was plenty to take them all in.

The Quan Cong temple was next on the list, a temple dedicated to a Chinese General. A huge paper-mache statue of Quan Cong is the focal point.

Our visit to the Hoi An Museum of History and Culture would have been disappointing had it not been for an argument over parking that I got in with a woman who had claimed the sidewalk as her parking lot. We parked beside a bunch of other bikes and she told me that parking was D10,000. I’d seen plenty of locals paying D5,000 or less for parking all over Vietnam and I wasn’t going to get robbed. She had no interest in dropping her rates and I had no interest in paying her anything. I parked on the other side of the museum entrance and she proceeded to try and move the bike. I stood over her (she was all of four foot) and was ready for a standoff when Jo pointed out I could park in the small foyer of the museum itself. I did so, much to the lady’s disgust. She sneered at me so I pulled out my camera to take a photo of her… smiling as I did. We’ll call it a points decision to us. The museum consisted of some old photos of Hoi An and very unimportant artifacts such as a cannon and a drum.

We overshot Tan Ky House and ended up at the second bridge that was well underwater just 48 hours previously. Now riverboats and their touts waited for the next busload of fat American tourists. We took a quick ride for a few hundred metres along the other side the An Hoi Peninsula before soot and mud stopped us.

We eventually found Tan Ky house,the home of a rich merchant some two hundred years ago. It was elegantly furnished and came complete with it’s own prayer station as seems to be the norm in most of Vietnam. We were offered two small cups of tea and, breaking with our tradition of not accepting “gifts” I accepted – paying D10,000 before we had any trouble trying to get out without paying. To her credit, she seemed genuinely delighted at our payment.

We stopped for a double espresso and coke at a cafe in the touristy old town and I was intrigued by the shop next door that sold wooden seal stamps. We’d seen them in HCMC but I hadn’t taken much notice. The storefront was less than a metre wide and inside a bloke sat waiting for custom. There was only one option for me if I was to get a seal… our Playstation Guitar Hero band the Howick Liberation Front needed a seal. I drew (poorly) my idea. The Vietnamese star surrounded by the words “Howick Liberation Front”. At US$7 for our own seal it was a bargain. We couldn’t be laughed at now – we had an official seal. It was already 0900 and I was told to collect it at 1130.

We shot around to the tailors and the shoe shop but neither orders were ready yet so it was back to the hotel.

I briefly went out to get some cigarettes and somehow got drawn into a T-shirt shop where I picked up some not quite genuine Billabong shorts for US$5. The togs I bought to Vietnam had developed a tear right where I didn’t want one to be so the purchase was both good value and exceptionally necessary.

We collected and paid for my three pairs of shorts just after 1100 – all were exceptionally well made and exact replicas of the torn filthy pair that I had given the lady to work off.

Our H.L.F. seal was not quite ready when we got there but I got a few photos of the craftsman putting the final touches to it with a small chisel and then giving it a final sand down.

The shoes still were not ready at 1130 so I dropped Jo back to the hotel and waited. By 1145 both pairs were ready for me and I parked the bike outside the Riverside Hotel as the taxi pulled in.

The trip to Da Nang Airport took about 40 minutes. I reflected on the could have been in Hoi An – The Lantern Festival in particular. But we’d had a ball and more than one story had come from the visit. I think we have some unfinished business there – maybe in the dry season.

We had an awful airport meal of beef and chips before being bussed to our plane for the 1415 take off.

It was overcast as we approached Cam Ranh Airport, 30 kms outside of Nha Trang, and our propped plane bounced around a bit in the cloud. On landing we seemed to spend an eternity on the right rear wheels before the left settled down.

We caught a bus to Nha Trang that took half an hour and avoided most of the gathered taxi drivers as we pulled in although Jo had to barge her way between two of them (I’m so proud).

We walked less than half a kilometre but didn’t like the look of the first hotel we tried. As we hit the beach we saw The Sailing Club Divers office and I went in to enquire. Despite what we’d been told in Hue and Hoi An it was business as usual. We vowed to return and took the advice of one of the dive masters, heading for a block of hotels.

We were shown an average US$15 a night room but when I tried to get three nights for US$40 the receptionist suggested we look at a US$10 room. It was equally as average but cheaper so we booked in for three nights at Pho Bien Sea Town Hotel.

We walked back to Sailing Club divers and booked a two dive trip around a nearby marine reserve at Hon Mun (Ebony) Island for US$50 each including all gear – about a quarter the price of similar trips in New Zealand.

We took the dive masters advice again and headed for dinner at Restaurant Veranda. It looked a little too upmarket for us but the prices and food were superb. My D130,000 (around NZ$9) set menu was 4 prawn spring rolls, chicken and corn soup, a sensational slice of frest sea bass and a Dalat red wine. Dunno much about wine but it was quite drinkable. Jo’s meal was garlic bread, fresh fish (whole) and a chicken and vegetable lemongrass and chilli main. We both finished off with a plate of fresh fruit; watermelon, pineapple and dragon fruit. I sat on a couple of Saigon Lagers and typed up the blog for the last couple of days – we would be eating at Veranda Restaurant again for sure.

We walked back to the hotel around 2030 – excited at new prospects in a new town.

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