Hoi An - A sleepy fishing town

We left Hue by coach and travelled for four hours, to do the incredible distance of around 120km! Saying that we went through a few breathtaking passes in the green luscious hills, passed waterfalls and had a few near escapes when our absolutely bonkers bus driver decided to overtake other coaches and lorries in one go on the narrow mountain roads! When I saw this other truck flashing its lights at us on the opposite side of the road, my brow started profusely sweating and my heart very nearly came to a stop. A few honks and what I guess were Vietnamese swear words from the driver and we were all still very much alive, wishing for a speedy arrival at Hoi An, and not Paradise! On arrival at Hoi An, I'd never seen people get off so quickly, including ourselves, from the Mad Driver's Coach! We got to our hotel, unpacked and refreshed ourselves, to cleanse away all that Mad Coach induced sweat. Hoi An is a very sleepy and relaxed town whose rich architectural fusion of Chinese, Japanese, Vietnamese and European influences date back to the 16th century and ooze of charm and history. Its old quarters nestle on the banks of the drowsy Thu Bon River and it used to be a prominent trading post in times old. Of course all that area has now been developed into a gigantic tourist trap, with its many tailors, art and souvenir shops, hotels and restaurants but its subtle charm and relaxed atmosphere meant that we didn't mind falling into it. Again, for the foodies that we are, the fact that Hoi An's cuisine is deemed to be the best in Vietnam, with its many specialities, its fantastic use of seafood, its local micro-breweries, meant that we were going to be in Heaven! And sure it didn't disappoint. The prices for food were slightly higher than what we had paid so far, but it was worth every single penny. We were so impressed by the culinary delights that we promptly booked ourselves on a half day cooking course. What an experience that was. First we visited the market during its busiest and best time. The choice and quality of the vegetables, herbs and fruits was enchanting. The sea food was so fresh that prawns and fish still wriggled around with life in their iced trays. On the other hand, it take a will of steel to ignore some of the less enchanting smells, such as that of durian, a local fruit whose large spiky green ugly appearance goes hand in hand with its foetid smell not dissimilar to rotting flesh. But it apparently tastes divine, according to the locals... After the market, we headed to the restaurant, the Morning Glory, where the class took places. Now those of you with a filthy mind, Morning Glory doesn't refer to the sometimes embarrassing condition most men find themselves on awakening, but to the name of a water spinach... Our teacher, a charming young chef called Le, who told us that she had been cooking since the age of 10, taught us to make delights such as spring rolls, papaya salad, soups and marinated chicken skewers. We all had a good laugh and made so delicious food. Hopefully one day we'll treat some of you to those delights. Much of our time in Hoi An consisted in roaming along the tranquil river, being hassled by boat gypsies wanting money for their picture being taken, sipping cocktails by the river's bars, eating in fine but cheap restaurants, sleeping, lazing around etc. In other words it was a very relaxing part of our trip, a well needed vacation after all the last minute stresses incurred back in London with moving, shipping our stuff to NZ, saying goodbye to friends and so on. Still, we did squeeze in a cultural tour. We visited the ruins at My Son (pronounced Mee Sun) that were left by an ancient Cham empire, similar to the one that left the legendary temples at Angkor Wat in Cambodia . Now I'd like to point out that we booked the tour through our hotel. When we got picked up by the tour group, it's with terror that I noticed it was run by the same people who drove us to Hoi An from Hue. Yes, that's right, the one with the Mad Coach Driver! Well guess what, it was the same coach with the same bloody driver. Thank God we arrived in one piece again and survived the ordeal! The My Son ruins are perched in the mountains' jungle. They were rediscovered by French Archaeologists around 1900.It must have been an extraordinary place in it's prime days, but unfortunately it is now no Vietnamese Angkor Wat. The Viet Cong used it as a base and of course the Yanks bombed the crap out of it. Some ruins remain in a relatively good condition, only to be invaded by weeds and other climbing plants. But some of the other sites really bear the wounds of war and are in a sorry state... Even today, 30 years after the conflict ended, the scars are to be seen all throughout the country... Finally the time came to leave Hoi An. We headed to Danang, Vietnam's third largest city and a main transport hub. Our aim was to travel to Nha Trang, a coastal resort, half way in between Hoi An and Ho Chi Minh City (Saigon), our final destination. So at Danang's train station, tickets in hand, we boarded the train for Nha Trang. Now visualise this. You're in a foreign country, with a language that is completely alien and unlike any Latin or Greek based language. You get to a station and show the tickets to a platform attendant who waves towards a platform. You wait for the train and climb into it, get your seats, and enjoy the scenery all the way to your destination. Well we experienced most of that, apart from getting to our destination... Ten minutes into the journey, the guard came along to control our tickets... Lo! All the sudden all hell broke loose. He was frantically pointing in the opposite direction to which we were heading. "No English" he was saying, whilst I was saying "No Vietnamese"! Finally it fell on me like a thousand rocks. We were on the wrong bloody train! The guard grabbed my arm, inviting me to follow him... Remember that this guy didn't speak a word of English, neither French when I tried. He opened the door at the end of the carriage and pointed to the rails... Did he want me to jump!? I mean the train was going very very slowly, but still, jumping from a moving train, with a 20kg rucksack on my bag was not my idea of fun! And even less Kiri's! Luckily a young Vietnamese woman spoke good enough English and we all decided to stay and get off at the next stop... Which happened to be Hue! So we ended up backtracking! And four hours later, after seeing some of the most beautiful coastal scenery from the window of our excruciatingly slow train, we got back to the old Imperial City and its drenching rains!