An Appetite for Adventure

From [09.02.05] Hoi An

Hoi An is a city semi-frozen in time. And for Vietnam, a place ravages by some of the worst bombing this world has ever witnessed, maintaining this level of historic preservation is an amazing feat. Given the rare glimpse into Vietnam’s past, the city is unexpectedly a tourist hub, and on any given afternoon one will witness more Western than Vietnamese faces or hear the constant chatter of Chinese tour groups.

The latter are drawn to Hoi An because of its legacy as a bastion of Chinese immigrants, the financial powerhouses of this once important trading hub. Lovely old Chinese social clubs, homes and temples, restored to their original grandeur, are dabbled throughout the Old Town historic district. While these carefully recreated retreats offer true insights into the city’s past, most of the other historic shops and home in the Old Town eagerly gobble up the glut of tourism, hawking every kind of Vietnamese souvenir imaginable.

All the kitsch didn’t turn me off, however, as quaint, quiet Hoi An quickly became my favorite stop on the trip. Call me a sucker, but I love stepping back in time to view a place before globalization came calling.

We arrived in Hoi An by overnight bus in what was one of hte more interesting travel experiences I’ve had. We read nightmare stories about these bus rides, and therefore careful researched the best company — TM Brothers — with which to travel. The seats all recline to about 160 degrees, with ample leg room for even a person as tall as Sean. That said, they are a bit on the narrow side and are constructed of relatively hard, sterile vinyl. On the upside, the vinyl prevents such nasties as bed bugs. The journey was a bit bumpy and I wouldn’t say it was the best sleep of my life, but it made due. Put it this way, I didn’t have to take a nap the next day.

Our time in Hoi An started off on a rough note when we realized we had just left the photo from Long Thanh — for which we paid around $100 — on the bus. After pleading with the bus company, they assured us it would be at their office when the bus returned that evening. I didn’t believe them, but in the end all worked out and the photo was indeed recovered.

We spent the first day wandering around the city, taking in the gorgeous illuminated lanterns at night, playing pool in the afternoons, etc. Our second day there, we rented a moto — Sean just couldn’t get enough — and toured the coast known as China Beach. Yes, like the TV show. The beach itself is being touted as the next great beach destination in Vietnam, and the long strip of sand is entirely blocked from view by the enormous resort developments rising along the shore. Given the economy these days, I have no idea who they heck the expect to fill these behemoths.

At the end of the strip, near the large city of Danong, lies Monkey Mountain, so named by the American troops stationed here during the war. Now, the mountain belongs to the Vietnamese military, but we were able to ride around to take in some of the beautiful views. Upon returning to Hoi An, we enjoyed a delicious cooking class at the Red Bridge Cooking School.

The next morning, we embarked upon what was one of the highlights of our trip: a bike tour with the proprietor of The Sleepy Gecko, a wonderfully lazy bar and restaurant across the river from the Old Town. We’d received the recommendation from a scuba instructor back in Nha Trang and made a point of seeking out the joint. When we arrived to book the tour, two happily drunk Aussies started raving about the bike trip they had just completed and we were sold on the $35 day-long tour. Steve, the owner, personally takes you around the small island villages around Hoi An. Having married a local woman and living in Vietnam for seven year, Steve is well known by all the locals and you visit the homes of his relatives and their friends. And we’re not talking tourist visits; you are welcomed into the home as a friend for a drink (or several) of the local variety of rice wine and a snack or two. On top of meeting the local people, we saw a rice paddy drained for fish, visited a woodworking shop, and enjoyed pristine vistas at every turn. The highlight of the tour was, of course, lunch, where we befriended a table of folks about our age that were management at a sneaker factory. Hilarity — including a live karaoke performance by yours truly — ensued.

The only sour note of our time in Hoi An was the final night of Tet, when while walking around enjoying the open temples and people offering their final prayers, Sean’s wallet was lifted. He didn’t lose too much money and we found the wallet on the ground with all credit cards still intact, so it wasn’t the end of the world. Still, getting pickpocketed isn’t very nice or very fun. C’est le vie.

[09.02.05] Hoi An