Dalat, Vietnam- 1-3-09

The five hour bus ride from Nha Trang to Dalat was pretty uneventful aside from when we stopped for a bathroom / food break and I fed a pet monkey who was perched on a stick with a chain around his neck. Poor monkey.

I had no idea what to expect from this city called Dalat. All I knew was that I had been drinking Dalat wine for weeks and that was good enough for me to visit. Dalat is a bit inland and home to mountains, coffee plantations, rice wine breweries, flower gardens, and waterfalls.

When Rich and I arrived, we hitched a ride to a guesthouse mentioned in my guidebook and then negotiated with the owners on a price for the room (typical SE Asia style). Our new room was a master suite with two huge king sized beds, a private bathroom, a dining area, and a view of what I think is the best street in Dalat; full of cute restaurants and shops. All of this for only $4 each a night... jackpot!

The kiwi and I settled in and then set off to walk the city. We checked out the local markets selling all sorts of live animals- chickens, ducks, fish, eel, snakes, crabs, butchered meat, vegetables, fruit, basically anything you could ever want. We tried some dried fruit and picked up some Dalat red wine to try.

The city is known for their vast quantity of beautiful flowers they grow and we were lucky enough to stumble upon a flower festival which was going on next to the lake in the city. We laughed about the cheesy swan paddleboats in the lake, and 20 minutes later were paddling in one. The lights in the city reflected off of the dark lake water, it was nice to feel so at peace.

In the morning Rich and I took a tour to see rice fields, indoor flower gardens, coffee plantations, and a few other sights around. We learned how they grow / produce coffee ,including one way which involves having a weasel eat the bean and then harvesting the bean from that weasel’s poo later before cleaning, heating, and steaming it (which is one of the most expensive coffee’s in the world).

After the coffee stop came a rice wine “factory”, which was really just a man’s backyard / garage where he kept twenty 50-gallon plastic trash-can containers full of fermenting rice. You should have seen the pets pigs he had... they were each at least 300 pounds and the laziest pigs you’ve ever seen! I figured they must be around 5 years old because of their size, but when I asked the owner he proudly said, “1 year”. His secret? He feeds the pigs the leftover fermented rice that he no longer needs. So, basically, the pigs are drunk on fermented rice all day and night.

Another hour passed and we watched brooms being stitched together by old Vietnamese ladies and wooden baskets being weaved and assembled by Vietnamese men. From there we stopped at a mushroom farm and learned how mushrooms are grown in moldy hanging plastic bags. Our last stop before lunch was to see a temple and one of the largest waterfalls nearby named “The Elephant’s Tears”. To get to the waterfall we had to hike down rocks and jump from one large boulder to the next. In our group was one other gentleman, but he headed back to the van after taking one look at this route. Rich and I explored around and it didn’t take long before we felt the mist floating in the air from the falls. In five minutes we were soaked with water and slipping and sliding on the wet rocks. The falls were absolutely stunning; pictures can not do this place justice.

For lunch we dined at a restaurant on the side of the road and ordered 10 plates of food between five of us. We had fish soup, steamed and fried rice, stir fried vegetables, beef, fried chicken, chicken wings, tofu, spinach, egg rolls, and noodles. We were seated on the terrace overlooking a river and some nice hills. A few locals were fishing off the ride of the ledge and every once in a while we would hear some excitement and watch as the smallest fish was pulled out of the water, unhooked, and showed into the fisherman’s pant pocket for his dinner later.

Just when I thought I couldn’t eat another bite, fresh watermelon slices were brought our or dessert and I had to indulge. As we were finishing up our meal, Lusa and her motorbike gang arrived at the same place! We caught up about our past couple of days apart and she told me how much she loved driving a motorcycle through the countryside mountains and grasslands. Both of our tours visited a silk factory next and we discovered how silk worm cacoons are heated, unraveled, and threaded to make silk rolls. I held a silk worm and a hatched silkworm (which resembles a moth with a gremlin face). They flap their wings as fast as a humming bird but never lift off the ground, they can’t fly.

After such a long day I was exhausted, but we had one more sight to see. I fell asleep in the car and awoke in front of the “crazy house”, a famous architectural site in Dalat. Now gallery/hotel/tourist attraction is a house built around trees with winding staircases and across unnecessary bridges. Its fun to look around and explore inside the structure. From the outside it looks similar to the architectural style of Gaudi who did the Sagrada Famalia and other sites in Barcelona. The crazy house is still expanding and when we snuck onto the construction on the 7^th floor, we got a wonderful view of the entire city.

For dinner, Rich and I sampled some tasty street food (thin pancakes with breakfast veggie omelet ingredients inside) and then checked out the wine festival which was taking place on the other side of the lake. Unfortunately, we were misinformed and thought all wine samples would be free. After squeezing past hundreds of Vietnamese, we asked the vendors for some free wine samples and they asked for $2 a pop. Sorry wine ladies, we’re backpacking and just don’t have that kind of money.

In the morning it was time for Rich and me to say our goodbyes. He was headed north to meet up with his brother and friend from back home; while I was headed to a beach town called Mui Ne, where I heard there was not much to do but relax on the beach. Just what I could use after a few busy weeks of traveling.

Nha Trang, mud baths, New Years, and water slides 12-31-09

New Years was approaching and we had 6 hours till midnight. Our motor biking group got ready for the evening and Lusa, Gareth, Rich, and I started the night with a nice dinner. Lusa headed to the Sailing Club to meet up with a couple girls from Australia we had met; and Gareth, Rich, and I set off to find some cheap drinks.

We walked into a convenience store and figured the best way to start New Years Eve would be to buy a bottle of booze, some coke, and red bull to make our own cocktails. We needed cups and ice and the little store had neither, so we bought a gallon bottle of water, Rich watered all the potted plants outside, and then we cut the gallon bottle in half and to make two home made “buckets”. The Greek restaurant owner next door gave us some ice and straws, we were three of the happiest backpackers in town.

Down on the beach we started drinking and soon ran into Morika, Sam, and a couple guys who were sporting their own form of “buckets”. We invited them to have a seat on the sand with us and as we listened to the live music playing from the Sailing Club next door, we planned our evening. Our plan was to play drinking games first, then catch a ride up into the mountains to a party we had been invited to, which was hosted by a hostel in town.

As we sat on the beach I remembered I had a dice in my bag I had randomly found on a hotel porch a few days ago. I cleared a spot on the sand in the middle of our circle and explained the impromptu rules. “If you roll and land on an odd number, you have to drink that amount in sips and make up a rule (examples follow later), if you land on an even number you have to drink sips for half that amount and then get to delegate someone or some ones to drink the remaining count. The game progressed and so did our drunkenness. We invited a girl named Milan (from Paris) over to join us, she was strolling along the beach on her own. Soon we had a group of 9, pointing with our elbows, drinking with our left hands only, clapping before drinking from our straws, double tapping the drink as we set it down, drinking more if we cursed, more if we touched our faces, and basically getting more and more drunk by the minute. The rules were a fun twist because we all kept forgetting them as we played.

Bathrooms were a dilemma since we were sitting on the beach and we all needed to get into the Sailing Club to use their facilities. Problem is, there was a 150,000 dong cover to get in, and none of us wanted to pay. I don’t remember who made the first attempt, but we soon learned that if we walked in from the beach side (not the front entrance) and walked with intent, the security guards didn’t look twice or question us. After I used the restroom I walked up the front security guards and made up some story about having dinner here at the Sailing Club and never receiving my stamp (everyone who had paid to get in had a stamp). They stamped my wrist and I knew I was set for the rest of the night if I wanted to come back.

Back in the sand circle I proudly sported my stamp and explained what to do. Again, one by one, our ring of friends snuck in, got stamped, and came back out. Our plan now was to check out this mountain party and ring in the New Year up there… then maybe head back to the beach after.

A 15 minute drive later, we were basically the only ones at this mountain party but it didn’t phase us. We had read the advertisement before we left and knew we were entitled to free shots every hour, a free drink upon arrival, and a bottle of champagne.

The bartenders saw us coming and I could sense their fear of losing all their alcohol. We kindly demanded our free shots and three rounds later were very happy with our mountain party decision. The designated dance floor was covered in white sand and we spent the next hour dancing to really old school re-mixes of pop music on sand, on a mountain. Rich had a bottle of champagne in his pocket and soon we were all counting down the seconds and screaming “HAPPY NEW YEAR!!”

Luckily we had planned to only stay on the mountain party for about an hour or so and arranged for our driver to wait for us (the rides were included with the admission ticket- 100,000 dong). Just like VIP, we walked back towards his van and were brought directly to the Sailing Club back on the beach. In a single file line we flashed our stamped wrists to the Sailing Club security and entered the outdoor dance scene. The place was elegantly decorated with white walls and candles everywhere. The dance floor was packed and we joined in and danced until we couldn’t stand any longer.

When morning rolled around Gareth left for the airport and Lusa, Morika, Sam, Milan, Rich, and I went to a mud bath spa nearby. For 100,000 dong (about $5) we spent 3 hours soaking in warm muddy water, laying and drying in the sun like lizards, washing off the dried mud with power jets, relaxing in hot tubs, cooling in large pools, and lounging in the sun. It was a very stress-free day.

In the morning Lusa hopped on a motorbike and took off on a tour towards Dalat (a town in the mountains). Sam, Milan, and Morika left on a morning bus and Rich and I were the only two left in Nha Trang. We spent the day at a water slide park just 20 minutes away by motor bike and cable car. The slides were great and in no way met American standards. We got a little beat up by the bumps on the slides, but nothing that the lazy river couldn’t fix.

All in all, Nha Trang was good to me. Started with a sunrise on the east beach, ended with a sunset on the west and in-between were days filled with scuba diving, hiking, waterfalls, motor biking, partying, and mud baths. I’ll miss this place.

Next stop, Dalat. 

Bus ride from Hoi An to Nha Trang, 12-26-09

After such a crazy day of cycling through the city and running from one fitting to another, it was nice to have a sleeper bus to lie down on, and relax. It was my first time on a sleeper bus and I’d say these seats are a mix between a normal reclining bus seat and a sleeper train bed. These sleeper beds are bunk-beds in the bus in three rows and each bed has a decent amount of leg room. It’s like lying in a cubby you have to climb into and the back of the chair reclines to almost all the way down (but just uncomfortable enough that you never really get a great sleep).

Our ride left at 6:00pm and we arrived to Nha Trang at 5:30am. We only stopped a couple times, once for food and twice for the bathroom. The second bathroom stop was at 3:00am and we pulled off on the side of the road in front of someone’s house. Whoever needed to go to toilet, walked through the tall grasses on the side of this person’s house to find a good spot. Bugs, tall grasses, pitch black night, probably spiders, snakes, and who knows what else awaited us! Well, I had to go so I braved the mini jungle and ran back to the bus, unharmed.

When Lusa, Gareth, and I got to Nha Trang we were happy to discover the hotel we had booked was only a few blocks away from the bus station. We started walking south and noticed the beach and sunrise to our left. A no-brainer, we changed directions and watched a gorgeous sunrise up over this vast ocean, while beautiful mountains stood in the background. The ocean breeze made me feel so refreshed and alive after such a long night. Older Vietnamese men and women all around us were stretching and swinging their arms and legs around. It was really cute to see them all attempting to exercise.

After feeling half-rejuvenated, we turned back around and walked a few streets west to our place, Ruby Guesthouse. The place was nice, 5 stories and decorated to feel like ‘home’. The three of us were sharing a room and we put down our bags and headed out for breakfast. Noodle soup and sandwitches later, we were each a dollar poorer and very satisfied.

We spent the day on the beach, had massages, and were constantly approached by Vietnamese sellers. Everyone wanted to sell us cigarettes, books (color copies of the most popular backpacker books), candy, gum, water, soft drinks, jewelry, sunglasses, artwork, you name it! The sellers are pretty relentless and never go away. They always start their price at about triple what it should be, and the more you say no, the lower the price gets of course. I found myself wanting to buy things just because they were so cheap.

Lusa and I had lunch at a restaurant near the beach and I was craving western food. All I’ve eaten in the past three months is noodles, rice, noodle soup, egg rolls, spring rolls, and stir-fried vegetables… I was ready some western food! We both ordered burgers with all the toppings and French fries. As I ate I thought it was the best meal I’d ever had!

Finding a scuba shop was next on our list and we signed up with a shop called Octopus Divers, owned by The Sailing Club, a nice restaurant/lounge/bar on the beach.

When we got back to the beach a backpacker named Rich was lying near us. He’s a Kiwi (New Zealander) who now lives in Sydney. We all talked for a while and made plans to have dinner together later.

Lusa and I were craving pad-thai and hadn’t been able to find it at all in Vietnam. Luckily, this town has everything and we found a restaurant that boasted great Vietnamese, Thai, and American food; sold. Some red wine, some good food, some more sellers haggling with us inside the restaurant, we were happy campers. After dessert we noticed some ants crawling on the table to eat from our knives. “Normal” I thought. Funny how when you are in a country like this, bugs on your plates or silverware isn’t such a big deal. I’ve seen little spiders crawling on my plate before, other bugs, and dirt… but somehow it doesn’t seem so bad when you’re in SE Asia. It just seems standard.

We had to wake up early in the morning, for our diving trip. We were diving Octopus Rock to check out some swim-throughs and another reef that had more to see. The views on the boat ride out were great, green mountains, thick brown cracked rock boulders, and endless deep blue water.

The visibility was decent, about 15-20 feet, but the swim-throughs were great! We would circle around a coral and our guide would point out a tiny hole to us. Buoyancy is really important because of how narrow of a hole we were swimming through, so we had to be very carefully how deeply we inhaled and exhaled. As I swam though this little tunnel I had to squeeze and contort my body in unnatural ways to curve around the coral, clusters of fish parted ways for me and sunlight shined in through the other side of the tunnel. It was gorgeous. We swam through a couple other swim-throughs and I decided then that I’m going to have to dive far more often!

Besides the great tunnels, we also saw heaps of lion fish, a couple turtles, a beautiful cuttle fish that was showing off his camouflage skills by changing a myriad of colors. Around the polychromatic coral we also saw clown fish, a five foot grouper, black and white snapper, trumpet fish, barracuda, and a lot of reef fish. On our second dive we spotted a sea horse, lots of lion fish, flounder fish, damsel fish, ghost fish, angel fish, and more reef fish of course. It was a perfect morning.

As I had promised to the little Vietnamese lady, I headed to the beach to have a massage by her. She found me on the beach as I was reading my book and for the next hour I had an oil-massage with real waves crashing in the background. $5… I’m ready to move to Asia.

Lusa went out at night and met up with Sam who just got in from Hoi An. Sam was settled into a hostel and had met a group of people. They all planned to motorbike to waterfalls in the morning and since our group of four planned to go too, we all made plans to meet up in the morning. Eleven of us fueled up and soon were riding North in search for Ba Ho, which means “three waterfalls” in Vietnamese.

We stopped to re-group and noticed that Rich wasn’t with us. We hadn’t even reached the highway yet and were worried that he would never make it since he didn’t have the directions. Lusa and I split off in separate directions and rode around town to look for him, nothing. We waited about 20 minutes for him, but our group was getting antsy and we had to head out. As we reached the entrance to the highway, there was Rich, standing next to his bike and staring at the incoming traffic. He looked like a little lost puppy dog and we picked him up to find out what happened. “Okay, everybody ready now?.. Let’s go!”

Fifteen minutes later we were at a fork in the road and all stopped to figure out which direction to go. “Where’s Rich?” I asked. No one knew. “Okay… I’ll go back for him” and off I sped to find out what had happened to him (again). This time I was a bit worried though. When we first got on our bikes Rich told me he had only been on a bike one time before and crashed it. When we first picked up our bikes I refreshed him on how to switch gears and he seemed to be alright. But now, speeding back on this beachside road, all I could think was,  “I hope he’s alright.. maybe he just ran out of gas?” and he did. Poor Rich, again on the side of the road pushing his bike. I laughed with him about his luck this morning and told him to hang on while I got some fuel.

In all of these SE Asian countries, most food stands on the side of the road also sell petrol, so it wasn’t difficult to find Rich some fuel. The lady gave me a litter and a funnel; I drove off to feed Rich’s bike. Fifteen minutes later we met back up with the group and rode off towards the falls.

We passed fishing villages and small towns and stopped once to have some drinks while others ate fresh clams and oysters that were sitting in bowls of water on the side of the road. When we left the road-side stop our group did a buddy system so we could keep an eye on each other.

We had to ask around a few different road-side stands to figure out exactly where this road was that would lead us to the waterfalls. I think we backtracked on the same road a few times before we figured out that the little dirt road in the middle of a rice field, was the right road to take us to this large attraction.

I was riding in the front of our motorbike group with Gareth and as we rode along the rocks and bumps, I would ask every Vietnamese person we passed, “Ba Ho?”. Each local kept pointing me in the same direction and I felt comfortable that this road was the right one. After 15 minutes of bumps, dirt, mud, and rough terrain, a couple guys in our group in the back thought we were never going to make it and wanted to turn around. Gareth and I knew we were going in the right direction and continued on. Luckily the guys did too, because less than two minutes later we saw the big sign- “BA HA TOURISM AREA”. We made it.

We hiked on massive rocks using our arms and legs to climb over boulders. Flip-flops were probably not the best decision, but I had to make do. Some parts of the climb were so difficult that metal footholds were nailed into the stone to assist with climbing. It was a nice hike and the whole time, Gareth, Rich, and I played the ‘name game’. One person starts with a famous person’s name- George Clooney, the next person has to think of a famous person’s first name that starts with a C, Carrie Bradshaw, and so on. If someone says a double lettered name like Matthew Mcconaughey, it reverses back. Good game to play while hiking because usually your mind is focused on the next foothold or place to step and this game is a way to keep conversation going while semi-paying attention.

We got to the first waterfall and jumped in to swim in the pool at the bottom. I bought an underwater camera online a couple weeks ago and had my dad ship it to my hotel in Nha Trang, so I had a new camera to play with. A few of us climbed up the waterfall and into a small cave behind the rushing water. It was one of those moments I’ll remember for a while.

 

The next two waterfalls were nice to climb to and check out. But soon we were back on the road heading home. We stopped once to take pictures of the sun setting behind mountain peaks and before we knew it, we were back. 

Hoi An and tailor-made clothes, Vietnam 12-24-09

Hoi An, a cute city filled with tailor shops, street vendors, and friendly people. The town is very small, maybe 10 streets by 10 streets and is a quiet place with very little going on, which is nice when coming from a large city.

On the evening of the 24^th, after our celebratory drinks, our group of five decided to do a secret-santa for Christmas. Our spending limit would be 150,000 dong (just under $8 US) and we all picked names from a bag to determine who our gift recipient would be. I picked Henry, the unlucky one who crashed his motorbike on our 140 km ride to Hoi An.

The following morning, Lusa and I walked around town and past all of the tailor shops with women inside calling out for us to look inside. We admired the winter coats, custom-fitted dresses, tailor made shoes, shorts, skirts, pants, and suits. The amount of tailor shops in this city is incredible! And that’s what this place is known for.

My first stop shopping was a pharmacy to buy Henry some antibiotic ointment for all of his cuts and scrapes. I thought picking out food to eat was difficult… try explaining what type of ointment you want when the lady behind the counter only speaks Vietnamese! I searched my body for a little scratch and lifted up my leg to show her that baby scratch and then swiped my index finger on the palm of my hand and then onto that scratch to demonstrate how I wanted something to rub on it. She walked me behind the counter and pointed to about 30 different kinds of creams. One-by-one I read each Vietnamese label and searched the words for recognition of a familiar ingredient. I found one that said antibiotic and asked if this was for my scratch (lifted my leg again and pointed to the mark). “Ungh” she said, which means yes.

Lusa and I walked a few more streets until we reached the river where a daily market was set up. Inside the market we found fresh fruits, vegetables, freshly caught fish, butchered beef, hanging chickens (live, dead, or skinned and butchered already), chicken feet, heads, all sorts of bird eggs; the market even had a section dedicated to selling fake jewelry like pearls and stones, which the shop owners tried to convince us were real.

 

We passed a lady cooking eggs in a little pan. We watched as she poured some oil into the tiny dish and then cracked a couple eggs into the pan. She stirred and let it sit before flipping the egg omelet over and adding all sorts of Vietnamese vegetables, bean sprouts, and chili peppers. It looked pretty nice, so Lusa and I ordered up and took a seat on these little plastic stools as another Vietnamese lady who worked there started speaking to us in English. She brought over some thin, soft rice paper and extra vegetables for our meal. She showed us the proper way to wrap up the omelets as well. They were delicious!

Soon our new English speaking friend, Ly, was laughing and joking with us and rubbing our arms and shoulders, telling us, “she give massage, we should try”. “I also do manicure and pedicure, very nice, good price, you like?” I didn’t really want to get a massage here, we were in the middle of a market, this lady’s hands were dirty and it didn’t seem like it would be a relaxing thing to do. Lusa had never had a massage before and really wanted one from our new friend, Ly, so pretty soon, we were face down on these fold-out massage tables inside of this crazy food market. Ly called her sister, Phuong, on the phone and soon we had two massage ladies to ‘relax’ us. They started pulling off our tops and my mind started spinning thinking about all of the people walking through this market. Luckily there was a curtain and Lusa and I were sort of shielded from the rest of the market by a piece of dirty white cloth.

Apparently, Phuong was having a rough day. The entire time she was massaging me she was yelling Vietnamese words to her sister. I could tell she wasn’t even paying attention to what she was doing because all of her attention was focused on venting about some husband problem, I’m sure. She was barely touching my back, it felt like a monkey was giving me a massage… just touching and pushing in random places. I shyly asked her in slow-spoken English, “can you please go harder, stronger?” And she exhaled a huge sigh and made a sound that only a temperamental child would make. She took her hands off me and yelled something to her sister. They switched places and now I was finally having a semi-decent massage. I could still hear Phuong yelling from Lusa’s table but at least it wasn’t in my ear anymore. Sorry Lusa.

The rest of my massage went pretty well, until the very last minute of it. Ly started massaging my head and temples, which felt nice; but then she started scratching and squeezing things on my face with her sharp nails! All I could think was how oily and dirty her hands were and how she was hurting my face! I didn’t even have any blemishes or anything on this day and here I was, trapped and being tortured by this lady! My eyes flashed wide open and I waved my hand and said,”no no no”. So she said, “okay then, done!”

Well, our massages were finished and we paid our $3 while trying to bolt out of there as quickly as possible. Ly kept asking us when we would be back and was blocking our exit. The only way she let us escape was after promising to come back the next morning at 9am (yeah right!).

The white shirt I was wearing now had dirty oil marks all over the back of it and I was pretty displeased about the whole thing. We carried on looking for secret-santa gifts and I bought Henry a green-khaki colored hat with a red Vietnam star on it (to match his green-khaki colored satchel he likes to wear). My secret-santa limit was reached and I walked around with Lusa as she selected a couple items for her pick, Gareth. He smokes and never has a lighter on him, so she got him an engraved Zippo lighter, with Ho Chi Minh on it, and some extra fuel.

It was almost time to meet up with the guys and my gifts for Henry weren’t wrapped yet. I popped into a tailor shop when I saw a stack of used newspapers by the door and as Lusa and I walked to dinner, I was wrapping each item 5 times with newspapers. Unwrapping is the best part anyway, right?

When we met up with Mike, Henry, and Gareth, they were talking to a couple girls we had met in Hue a couple days ago. Sam and Sarah had just arrived to Hoi An and we invited them to Christmas dinner with us.

We found a nice restaurant on the river and ordered a few bottles of Dalat red wine and talked as our table of seven was set-up. We ordered and soon were retelling our motorbike journey to Sam and Sarah. They were surprised we ever made it to Hoi An at all!

Soon after the appetizers came we started the secret-santa gift exhange and each person said why they bought the gifts that they did and who they were for. It was a very nice gift exchange and really heart-felt. Mike was my secret-santa and bought me four wonderful gifts. First was a wood carved turtle that had the Chinese/Vietnamese zodiac marked on its shell. The shell of the turtle slid to the side and revealed a compass. Mike commented on me navigating and leading our group on motorbikes and said this compass was appropriate. He also got me some tiger balm, a souvenir mirror, and a bottle of Vietnamese rice whiskey with a little cobra snake inside it! Wow, I lucked out with a great secret-santa.

After our feast we walked around town and into a small bar called Dream, where we were the only patrons. The bartenders waved us towards the bar and promised us a round a free drinks as they started pouring. The rum and coke’s were strong and we flicked through songs on their itunes playlist to find something to dance to. Dream was a little bar with white walls which were covered with writing in black permanent marker. We reached for markers and soon were solidifying that we too had been to Dream/Hoi An/Vietnam/Asia.

An hour later we jumped onto the backs of motorbike taxis and directed the drivers to take us to a bar which was recommended to us, the “WHY NOT 2” bar (the original “WHY NOT” bar is in Nha Trang). Again, we were the only people inside this little bar which had a pool table, four chairs, and two couches outside. We spent the next couple of hours picking out songs, playing pool, and dancing around our second private party of the night. My Vietnamese pool partner/motorbike driver proposed to me, but sadly I said “no”. By the end of the night we were all behind the bar making drinks, hugging the bartenders, and taking pictures. It was a great night.

Gareth and Henry had checked into a really nice hotel for Christmas, so the following morning Lusa and I rode bicycles over to visit and lay by the pool. We read our books and relaxed as we ate some fresh dragon fruit, apples, pomellos, and oranges I had picked up in the market and after a couple hours, Lusa rode off in search of a new hotel for us.

She found a nice place and we rode our bikes to our original hotel, heaved our big backpacks on our backs, and slowly cycled to our new home. My backpack was so heavy that I had to grip my handle bars with all my strength so I wouldn’t fall backwards and off the bike! But, we made it, settled in, and set off to check out a few tailor stores to see what’s out there.

Three hours later, we had placed orders in five different shops between us, had fittings scheduled for the morning, and had booked our bus to Nha Trang that would leave the following evening at 6pm. Productive day. The best part of these shops is that you get to flip through stylish magazines, point to something you like, and then they measure you and let you pick out the material you want to use for that item. I had ordered 3 shorts, a sweatshirt, two pairs of shoes, two t-shirts, four tank-tops, and a dress-shirt. Inside the tailor shops are stacks and stacks of fabric for you to choose from, but in one of my shops I couldn’t find the color I was looking for. My favorite part of the day happened next. The shop owner handed me a helmet and told me to hop on the back of her bike; she was going to take me to their manufacturer. 

Before I knew it, I was on her motorbike weaving through Hoi An. We rode 10 minutes away to a slightly larger shop completely filled with fabrics. I’ve never seen so many clothing materials in my life! I had the choice of thousands of colors and styles and was so excited to be there! I found the perfect coral color and soon my stylist and I were back on our bikes driving to her shop. Mission completed.

The next day was complete chaos! My first fitting was at 9am at one shop, 9:30am at another, and 1:00 at the shoe shop. Lusa and I rented bicycles for the day and all day we rode around the city past other bicyclists, motorbikes, cars, and pedestrians.

In the first shop I tried on the 3 pairs of shorts I ordered and the custom sweatshirt I had made. The shorts were too short and too tight, but the sweater seemed alright. They told me to come back at 12:00pm for another fitting of the shorts. Inside the second shop, three of the tank tops were alright, one needed alterations, one of the t-shirts needed to be fixed, and the dress-shirt needed to be altered. I was instructed to come back at 1:30pm.

At 12:00pm I tried on my shorts again and one pair was right but two still needed fixing, “come back at 1:00”. I had a one hour break and Lusa and I met up to eat some lunch and talk about our hectic tailor days. She only had thirty minutes to chat and then had to rush off to another fitting.  Lusa was having shorts, shirts, a suit, a winter coat, and a skirt made.

At 1:00pm both of my shoes needed to be fixed and they said to be back at 3:00pm. Good news, my shorts were now perfect. I paid for my shorts and sweatshirt and wore the gray sweatshirt out since it was cooling down outside. At 1:30pm my shirts were all great except for one and they said to be back at 2:30. I had another hour break and bumped into Gareth while riding past him on my bike. We went back to the same café Lusa and I had eaten at and had something to eat to pass the time. He had a couple hours to waste until his next fitting and rode around with me to my next two.

At 2:30 all of my shirts were perfect and at 3:00 my shoes were great too! Perfect. But after I left the shoe shop I noticed my sweater starting to fall apart and went back to that shop to have it fixed. One phone call and less than five minutes later, the tailor showed up to pick up the sweater and said he’d be back in 30 minutes. I rode off to pick up Lusa, Gareth, and my bus ticket and returned in time to see a newly repaired sweater. Yeah!

Phew, back to the hotel just in time to finish packing up, eat a couple dumplings off a street vendor, and throw my bags into a little van that would bring us to our overnight bus. What a day!