4km in the sun, One sided pedalling, and a marble detour

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8th-10th



We tried and failed to have a lay-in this morning, as the cleaning lady decided to drag the beds around at 8am and a new group of people in the dorm decided to have loud conversations at 9am - so we were up and checked out by 9.30. Chris had booked us into a homestay on the other side of town so, as Hoi An is quite small, we thought we'd grab some breakfast and then walk there.



Rookie error.



It was super hot, and not a cloud in the sky - and the 3.8km walk ended up taking us about an hour. Usually this would be fine, but with our bags it most definitely was not! Especially as there was no sign indicating which of the houses was our homestay - I ended up asking a man from another homestay (which looked gorgeous, called Skybird or Skyfall - covered in ivy and plants because the owner is a gardener, and with a super friendly fat dog that demanded to b fussed! I will definitely look out for it when we come back to Hoi An), and he led us to a nondescript, traditional looking house we'd already passed. Despite being so close to the Cua Dai main road, it was tranquil here - the silence only broken by the cluck of a chicken, a passing motorbike, or a trill from one of their beautiful (but obviously distressed) caged birds.



During the day, the house is run by a smiley and welcoming young grandma, who promptly sat us down, turned on the fan and brought out some ice cold water for us. Although she spoke no English we managed to communicate the necessaries, and after some well-deserved rest we rented their bicycles and followed the same road back to the tailor's for another fitting. I was so happy with my dress that I ordered another, this time with a pattern!



We then cycled around some of the more residential areas, and found a secluded riverside eatery that was, like nearly all businesses here, small and family run. A group of older people were playing cards around a table near the entrance, and a dog, 2 chickens, 1 rooster and 2 chicks were dotted around the seating area, probably waiting for one of us to drop some of our lunch. Needless to say that the food was glorious. I enjoyed a zingier and far superior Cao Lau than the last one, accompanied by shrimp spring rolls and sweet chilli sauce, and Chris had a surprisingly yummy Diavolo pizza and local beer - I am the local food connoisseur, Chris is the beer (and insects) connoisseur! They do spice so well in Asia, though it's definitely more subtle here in Vietnam than in Thailand; the Diavolo is truly devilish, but not in a way that makes you want to burp fire for the next few hours. It was so pleasant to look over the large river and watch the boats big and small float by. Eventually some ominous-looking clouds began rolling in, and knowing how quickly the heavens can open we paid up and left pretty sharpish.



It didn't rain luckily, but disaster struck nonetheless - Chris' rickety bicycle was a little too rickety, and one of the pedals fell off mid-ride on a busy road! A little girl nearly got knocked down by a motorbike as she ran out after the pedal, but the driver cooly angled the handlebars, scooped her up and put her safely back on the pavement in seconds. Quite impressive, and once the immediate danger was over both her and the girl's mother were laughing with relief, as a young man ran out and picked up Chris' pedal and the bolt that keeps it in place. These sort of things must be kind of normal here!



We made it back before the rain, and even managed to squeeze in 30 mins of pool en route. The monsoon-like rain did limit our dinner options to the Dingo Deli once again, but I'm not complaining - we had some hearty Australian meat pie, almost-English fish and chips and even Heinz ketchup! We met the owner by chance as well, who was a lovely Australian lady that has been living in Hoi An for 5 years and opened the deli this year for expats like herself. The prices are a little steep by Vietnamese standards, but I suppose that's kind of the point. I could definitely see myself spending a lot of money here if I lived in Hoi An!



Our last day in this beautiful town was low-key: a super yummy breakfast of fried egg and a pineapple/tomato salsa, Bahn Mi (Vietnamese baguette), and two very sweet and very small bananas, whipped up in minutes by the untiring grandma; last fitting trip to the tailor's; our daily coffee (it's just so good here); a little wander around and eventually admin for our trip to Danang and Hanoi.



As Chris was knackered out from the heat, I took an evening cycle by the riverside. It really does look like it's filled with fairy-lights, and thanks to the recent bouts of rain the temperature is bearable. As my special life skill is the ability to get wholly and utterly lost, I ended up finding all of the tourist attractions I'd missed in the daytime completely by accident - I even found the Japanese bridge, an ancient ornamental monument that links two sides of a small river, twice! Pure magic. My nighttime sojourn wasn't fated to last very long, however. After only an hour, heavy stormclouds appeared and every few minutes the sky lit up with lightning flashes. This made for some incredible images as I looked desperately around for a street name or monument I recognised, particularly as 2 or 3 bolts often appeared at once, and grouped together. I eventually found the right road and managed to get back just as the rain was starting.



The next day, our clothes were ready and we were due to leave for Danang at 2. The driver, a friend of the homestay owner, decided to drop us off at a marble workshop en route as a chance for him to earn some commission and for us to get pictures of some of the marble mountains, a group of 5 mountains each mined for their unique and precious materials. To be fair, the workshop was highly interesting, and everything was beautifully made and hand-carved. If we had money and space I definitely would have invested - as it stands, some photos were enough.



On arrival we discovered that we had left our passports with the homestay (the law here is the place you're staying takes them on arrival, and you get them back when you check out). The driver sorted it all out with the hotel lady, and after a bit of confusion he rang the homestay man, who told me that the driver will drop off our passports at 8pm. We were uneasy but had no choice - so we settled in, found some dinner (a cool little place called My Casa run by people exclusively with dreadlocks), and were back for 7pm. 8pm passed, no driver. 9pm. 9.30. Eventually we asked the hotel lady to call the homestay - "a moment will be here" she wrote on google translate. As my mum would say, we were knitting buttons with our bums! The driver rocked up at 10.15, and our passports passed through our hands for all of 5 seconds before they were handed over again. Lesson learned!!!

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