My experience in Hoi An picked up as soon as I walked into dorm room 104 and met my bunk mates for the night. Directly below me was the youthful Grace from Australia who was gender neutral and cute as a button. To my right was Chelsea, an intense young blonde on her way to Australia to escape the seeming oppression of the English countryside.
Chelsea was kind enough to invite me to what soon became a UN dinner meeting with 6 ladies representing 6 different countries in attendance. The meal was lackluster but the company was welcomed and after eating we made out way down to the river and I finally saw what all the Hoi An hub bub is about. A kaleidoscope of lanterns romantically leads you down the waterway dotted with cafes, restaurants and shops. We opted for the slightly pricier experience of an after dinner drink on a boat tied to the dock and featuring live music. In our case the musical dazzlings of Vietnamese John Lennon, who also sampled from the from the John Denver catalog, we on the menu tonight.
We slowly made our way back to the hotel and retired for the evening, but not before I had discussed with Clarisse, a gorgeous 20-year-old from France the possibility of her accompanying me on the tour to My Son the following morning.
Waking up early has not proven a problem at any point since arriving here and I was up and sampling the extensive, and included, breakfast buffet at the hotel before 8. Clarisse and I met and we boarded the lime green bus #10 to the My Son ruins, nearly an hour away. Out stuffy bus was MC'd by a local man who possessed the unique talent of speaking in English to his constituents in such a way that he actually appeared to be dubbing over his own personal Kung Fu film. You had to see it to believe it.
By the time we arrived at the evidently American-destroyed ancient temples it was sweltering and sticky - and this is the dry season! We met up with Grace and fellow roommate Jasmine who was asking for photo pointers I was in no position to give, and wandered for the allotted 2 hours through the lush green fields and rich brown stonework of the temples - sweating our asses off all the way.
The promise of an actual boat ride back was alluring, though the reality of it exhibited track housing and manicured farmland, disappointing me with it's similarity to the California landscape. Clarisse and I seemed to be in this together at this point so, when wandering the streets of the main market where the boat docked, we purchased what had been explained to me was sticky rice by the lady selling this local delicacy. We were both excited to chip in our 20,000 dong and sample this local dessert. The excitement waned when the dish was more like 10 lbs of some sort of paste housed in what I believe to be banana leaves, and unable to eat in any manner with dignity.
Luckily, this monstrosity of a meal allowed us to meet a very nice older couple from Philadelphia. When I heard English from over yonder, I asked if they were American - as I have seen so few of my own kind over here - and then asked of they wanted to sampled some of our orange paste. Both were confirmed and it was not long until they had pulled up their wicker chairs to our table and we were having juice and coffee in the afternoon light of Hoi An. Former military who met in Berlin and formed a long lasting love affair though California and Philly with no children but lots of travel I could not help but be intrigued by their story and friendly disposition.
After a couple hours and a very generous and secretive settlement of the bill we were off by the American gentleman, like travelers do - we went in opposite directions, thankful for the respite from either loneliness or aggressive Vietnamese.
With a large leather bag almost calling my name I resisted and set forth to pick up my tailored items, neither of which were quite right and with assurance of adjustments being made by tomorrow morning my new French Bestie and I went down to the waterfront for some window shopping and dinner. It was while en route to said dinner that I went to an ATM to grab some cash, only to realize that my bank card was mysteriously missing. Being down to only a few thousand dong and having a week left to go in Vietnam, I became understandably nervous. Trying to put forth my best roll-with-the-punches attitude I realized there was nothing I could do about it that night and, if we dined at a place that took credit cards (and charged their own additional fee for it's use), Clarisse could give me cash and it just might get me through the next couple of days.
Dinner was delicious and romantic in an open courtyard and candlelight. My Com Ga was light an lovely and multiple lemon juices were had, as I am becoming addicted to the sugary treat. While meandering through the alleyways of Hoi An, we came upon the Japanese Covered Bridge, a main attraction here and one that I was having difficultly locating. As it turns out, it is rather small and inconspicuous. At night the bridge is lit up and young girls in colorful silk pajamas sell lanterns you can light and place in the canal. I am sure the tradition has something to do with luck or wishes, but I remained behind my lens and went with the free option, as I literally didn't know where my next meal was coming from.
Turns out that next meal was the buffet breakfast at the Sunflower where I spent the following morning sorting out my financial drama via the Internet and Skype. Laura at Citibank was very polite and friendly but once I was transferred to Jeffrey, her supervisor, to discuss sending me a replacement card I realized he was an ass, and could basically suck a dick - pardon my French. Luckily I recently switched over to a more internationally friendly credit card that allows a cash withdrawal with exorbitant fees if you go to a bank that acts as a partner. It was Saturday in Vietnam and banks closed at 10am. It was 9:20 - time was ticking. When I went to retrieve my passport from the front desk of the hotel to pay for my room, I got hit with a double whammy that they only accepted cash and that my reservation for this evening had somehow been forgotten and I was essentially homeless. No money and no place to stay - awesome! Thinking catching a bus out of town that night might solve my problems, I inquired about tickets only to discover most travel South was booked solid for the next several days - as Tet is over and families are traveling back home. My free spirit so often invites such amazing encounters and adventures and then - every so often - it bites me in my big white (currently two-toned) ass.
With a morning of literally running errands I was able to get to the bank and take out what felt like an obscene amount of dong (better to be safe than sorry). Next, I popped into a more amiable travel agency than the one located in my hotel and I soon discovered why I had taken out such large amounts of cash. The friendly agent did manage to get me on a bus the following night but for a price 3 or 4 times the regular price - because of Tet. Once again - free spirit/lack of research = masticated glutes.
No bother - I am white and therefore, at least according to most people I know - rich and realized that no issue is insurmountable with the right mixture of persistence and money. Ticket booked, ridiculously expensive private room for the night acquired, disappointing tailored clothes ready to pick up and dong coming out my ears - check. I was good to go. And ready for the beach.
Frenchie and I met up and rented bikes to ride the 5k down to the beach only to discover the carnival that is the main beach in Hoi An. Thanks to one of my new Spanish friends we took a quick side route, bringing us 3 kilometers down the beach. An Bang beach was a slightly less frenzied area with cheap chairs for rent and waterside restaurants. Sadly, also with cute beach shops selling unique and irresistible jewelry. I am telling you - I am out of control.
We laid on the beach until the cool breeze outgrew the warmth of the sun and rode back into town, me feeling a bit queasy from the questionable fried rice I had consumed for lunch. The scenery once outside of the main mall area of Hoi An is gorgeous and vibrantly green - the bonus of choosing to ride home at sunset provided the perfect postcard moments on a rickety bike with the wind in my hair. We attempted to keep the bikes into the nighttime hours, but the lady in charge was having none of that and we parted ways on foot, as I checked into my room for the night, just 100 yards down the road at Green Field Villas & Spa (I saw neither).
90 minutes later it was dinner time and we reunited and it felt so good. Well, not really. Whatever I had eaten was really not sitting well with me and it took all of my strength to get out of my room. Here is where you see the benefits of traveling alone because you feel no obligation to anyone else, so you can do as you please. In the moment I was regretting having committed myself to another person and slowly sauntered alongside my wild haired new friend to a place off Le Loi that she had read about being cheap and tasty. Once we arrived - we saw just why. This outdoor eatery off of a side alley had no white faces (A-Ok with me) and no menu. You sat down - told them what you wanted to drink and then they brought out food and then more food - prepared it at your table and watched you like an overprotective mother as you consumed this foreign matter, making sure you not only ate it all - but enjoyed it.
With my stomach doing somersaults I was proud of myself for trying this spring roll bonanza, especially having no idea if I was eating German Shepherd or Cow - neither of which are part of my repertoire. I was somewhat cautious and sampled 2 of the offered rolls as well as the authentic chocolate mousse but did not go overboard. The experience was filling enough for me.
Strangely feeling better, we headed down to the Tet decorations to take photos and ended up at a cute little French inspired cafe for fruit juice and 25 cent beer. There are many 'fresh beer' advertisements here and though I don't totally understand the concept, they seem to be quite cheap - so I am all for it. Despite the fact that my travel companion of the past couple of days is 12 years my junior I found her to be insightful and incredibly smart and was thankful to have a beautiful young woman who could discuss politics, economics, and jewelry shopping all in one fell swoop. I can only imagine the amazing things that lie ahead for her. I will pretend this does not make me jealous at all.
With the city mostly dead (save for a backpackers bar housing every person I have encountered here under the age of 30) we returned to our respective hotels with a promise of breakfast in the morning - to which I would technically now be stealing. Always out for a free meal and a new adventure.
