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Published: April 3rd 2017
At 1:00 I crossed the street for the fitting of my “áo dài”. Hang greeted me cheerfully and led me to the fitting booths. The pants and dress felt unbelievably light, like feathers. Hang had to help me with the snap buttons on the raglan-sleeved dress. Looking into the mirror I felt so pleased to be in such a beautiful dress!
The sleeves were too long, and the dress and pants also - I asked for the remnant from shortening the dress as a souvenir. The back darts were too tight; a seamstress ripped them out with such speed I was certain she was ripping the silk. Of course not! The finished garments would be sent to our hotel along with all the other orders.
Then Janetta asked me to comment on the fit of Mary’s fleece jacket. The front was perfect, but the back of the sleeves and the back princess seams were not right. The fitters weren’t very happy with my criticisms. Still, the pale blue colour and style looked good on Mary. Janetta showed me her burnt orange fleece jacket – beautiful subtle shade, with only a minor version of the same fitting problem. The fleece
China Beach
The joy of wild water!was very heavy – good for their home in Alaska.
To meet up with the rest of the group, we shoppers walked to a well-known patisserie, but the others had wandered off elsewhere for their own shopping. I couldn’t buy anything because the elegant cakes were heavy with cream. At 2:00 we assembled at the bus to drive to Da Nang and an unrevealed surprise. On the way we stopped at the “real” China Beach – apparently the one in the
TV series is misnamed. Those who knew said it looked like Miami Beach, because large hotels and restaurants lined the promenade, and the white sand beach curved into the distance. Some of us had come prepared. I put on sandals to walk from the bus to the sand, then rolled up my pant legs and went barefoot into the shallows. Cold water! The wind blew mightily, so the surf pounded and the red hazard flags flew.
At the other end of the beach fishermen were selling their catch. Some poled coracles out to larger boats – small round vessels that require great skill to manoeuvre, at least according to novels I’ve read about Cornwall. We were slowly making
Coracles
Boats of traditions around the world our way to the spectacular Phap Lam Pagoda, high on an escarpment overlooking the harbour. At the most prominent point was a gigantic Mother Goddess (or Bodhisattva of Mercy) statue that watches and protects the fisher folk. Hundreds of people were visiting and worshipping. In grand pots across a wide forecourt were twisted bonsai trees. Dragons were so wonderfully carved you could almost believe they were alive, if live dragons were part of your belief system.
To soak up the remaining time until our surprise, now revealed as a dinner cruise on the Han River, we each declared for one of two activities: some of us would go for drinks, and the rest of us would go for a massage. Thuy has good contacts, and her friend knew a good place for us.
Suddenly our bus stopped at the curb in traffic! The driver and Thuy got out and talked to a policeman. The driver showed his license, then his papers. They walked down the block and around the corner. After a while they came back and we drove on. We demanded the story from Thuy. Unbeknownst to our (relatively new) driver, buses weren't allowed on this particular
bridge from 5:00 – 6:00 pm. Thuy had phoned another friend, and he had told her to emphasize tourism. She told the policeman the fault was hers: they were strangers in Da Nang and didn’t know this regulation; she had told the driver to take the bridge because her tourists were late. Eventually, the policeman just gave them a warning. We drove away from the bridge for about a kilometre, and then had to drive back so we could park at the Cham Museum, which accommodates buses and was across the street from our dinner-boat dock.
Thuy found the massage group a taxi van. The massage spa was in a large hotel. The manager and we guests were all slightly confused because there was no common language. At last we were sorted into small private rooms to wait for the masseuses. Mine came in dressed in a well-fitted orange-red knit blouse, a micro black skirt, and spike heels. She motioned for me to take off all my clothes, offered me a towel to wrap around myself, and pointed to a steam cabinet. I sat on the stool inside, and she turned on the faintly scented steam – very soothing.
Big luscious prawns!
On board the river boat She came in the room twice more to turn on the steam again after it automatically shut off - perhaps 15 minutes in all. She opened the door of the cabinet and pointed to a bathtub about a quarter filled with water. I abandoned my inhibitions and the towel and got in. She sat behind me, and with a hand shower wet my hair and started shampooing it, giving me a strong head massage. After rinsing my hair she gave me a puff to wash my front, then she scrubbed and massaged my back. She gave me the hand shower to rinse off and gave me a towel to dry. I patted dry, which didn’t meet her approval, so she rubbed me vigorously with the damp towel. She motioned me on to the massage bed, face up, and draped me for modesty (!). She started the massage with my eyes and forehead, pressing very firmly. She very accurately pulled my hair, selecting a few hairs and pulling sharply. When she got to my neck, she discovered a lot of tension, which she addressed by sharply twisting my neck to one side and then the other. This hurt and I heard
a crack or snap, so hastily motioned to soften the action. Whenever I did that, she just stopped that part altogether. The massage continued with firm pressing, rubbing and clapping/pounding. For the back, she climbed up on the table and knelt between my legs – odd but clinical. When she was done, we had a communication breakdown, so she called the manager, who said, “Your friends finished!” She hung around while I got dressed and extracted from my wallet US$2 for a tip. The massage cost was 200,000 dong, only US$10. It was an exotic entry into another culture.
Later, on brightly lit river boat, we sat at round tables with gold cloths. Thuy cautioned against eating anything fresh. The highlight of the meal was tiger prawns served head-on in a coconut, as if they were escaping! Almost the moment we were finished eating the boat started moving. After hesitating, several of us moved onto a tiny space outdoors, at the front; later, others discovered that whole upper level was open. I had a perfect place to take pictures and stayed on the second level.
Around us the river was alive with coloured lights! The biggest high-rises were
covered in moving lights; the tour boats glowed against the dark river; and the structures of the three bridges were brought alive with brilliant multi-coloured displays. Most exciting was the Dragon Bridge: the dragon changed colour in a wave of bright hues. The spectacle concluded when the boats halted with a good view of the Dragon. It roared out fire into the night! Afterwards, smoked billowed out of its mouth – a pale anticlimax.
The hour’s drive to Hoi An showed that hardworking citizens were asleep - until we arrived back in the city where commerce continued to thrive.
">View video of the Han River light show.
D MJ Binkley
Dave and Merry Jo Binkley
Nice
Love the photo