Da Nang is one of the cities that’s always listed on the “1 month in Vietnam” itineraries you can find all over the internet, largely due to its proximity to Hoi An, a quaint ancient port town with heaps of character. We’d decided to stop in Da Nang so that we could spend a few days lounging around on the beach, reading, and giving our poor wallets a break after our train splurge. Arriving at Go Home Hotel we were greeted by the owner and shown to our room…except it wasn’t ready and it appeared someone else was staying in it. Never mind, we were moved to the “Coconut Room”, with profuse apologies from the manager and promises that we’d be moved to the best room in the hotel the following day. Honestly, we weren’t too fussed, it had a bed, air conditioning and a private bathroom which is all you need really.
We’d done a bit of research and found that there were actually quite a few things to do in Da Nang, and none of them overly expensive. So, we set about planning our itinerary for the next few days, aiming to visit the Marble Mountains, Monkey Mountain, and maybe even get some snorkelling done as well – fab. Our first full day we decided to head down to the beach and soon settled in under one of the few palm trees nestled along the sand, providing free shade for those like myself who are too tight to pay for a bed and a parasol. Suitably sun-creamed and with ample shade from the palm tree, it wasn’t long before we decided to take a dip in the water. The sand was like walking on fire and as Dave still hadn’t replaced his dead flipflops, he had to majestically hop, skip and jump to the sea, it was really quite amusing to watch as I sauntered down in my lovely lovely sandals. The sea was warmer than any we had ever been in. There was none of the usual shuddering or lengthy adjustment periods that seem to be a staple of any trip to a British seaside, and we glided into the warm waves, the soft sand nestling around our toes. One of the things of note is that the sea is much saltier here than back home. Dave, who infamously and hilariously struggles to float in water, was happily bobbing around, or at least he was until one of the bigger waves washed over him and he discovered the water was much better floated on than drunk. We mucked about in the water for a bit, jumping over the bigger waves and watched as people parasailed past and fell off banana boats, before retreating back across the hell sand to the shade, to apply more sun cream and to down a litre of water. As we sat under the palm tree and looked out over the bay, we could totally see why people would come here to get away from the madness of Hanoi, but we definitely weren’t going to be turning into people who spend their whole holiday on a beach anytime soon. Because the sand here is so white, the sea seems to sparkle as particles are picked up by the tide and the blue clear water gently laps the shore. Re-creamed and rehydrated, we headed back in for a final dip, before drying off and heading for a beer at Crazy Cat’s Bar, about a 5-minute walk from the seafront and therefore about 5 x cheaper than any bar along the beach. The place is run by a cheerful Aussie chap and obviously caters for a much larger audience than was currently in attendance. The décor is typical beach bar fair with bamboo everything and LED lights nestled in lanterns hanging from the ceiling. We settled in for a beer with our kindles, feeling that sort of fuzzy tiredness you get after spending a day at the beach; that coupled with the alcohol soon flowing through my system, made it all the more difficult to wrap my head around A Brief History of Time. I am still persevering though!
A few beers later we realised we hadn’t eaten anything since breakfast and it was now around 5pm, so we headed off to find a local recommended Mexican fusion place (yes, another one!). After being directed to the completely wrong location by Google Maps, we eventually found Tacos Da Nang, and thoroughly enjoyed a huge plate of nachos and a mango fish burrito, all to the back drop of two young Vietnamese children playing hide and seek and generally winding each other up. In our slightly tipsy state, this proved to be excellent entertainment, and we had to try very hard not to laugh when they misbehaved. Our evening drew to a close as we hopped into a Grab and headed back to the hotel, heads fuzzy from the beer and the heat. As we were settling in for bed, I became aware that in the mirror staring back at me was no longer the slightly bronzed figure that had been there this morning, but more an impersonation of a Swizzels Drumstick lolly. Oops. Turns out the Doxycycline we’ve been taking as an anti-malarial makes you particularly susceptible to sunburn and our measly factor 30 was no match for the blazing midday Vietnamese heat.
The following day I awoke sore, miserable, and more resembling a lobster than a human. The small bottle of aloe vera gel we’d purchased in Vang Vieng was no match for my perfectly pink stomach and chest and was soon depleted. It became apparent very quickly that our itinerary for Da Nang was going to have to be modified somewhat to include lots of sitting inside in the shade with the air-conditioning on full blast, trying to find a comfortable position to lie in. So, for the next 2 days that’s exactly what we did. Other than a quick trip out to see the dragon bridge breathe fire (underwhelming) on our last evening there, our trip to Da Nang had turned out to be a little less action-packed than we had hoped. Da Nang sits on a river delta, and all along the river front are huge neon and LED lights, beckoning you to have a massage, or visit a rooftop bar, or buy sunglasses, or anything really. It was what I imagine Las Vegas is like, but with a hint of Blackpool thrown in for good measure. Most of the people in the bars seemed to be older Aussie men with younger Vietnamese women, but the less said about that the better, I think. It was all a little overwhelming for a country mouse like me. In hindsight we should have stayed nearer the beach as that was where all the more affordable restaurants and bars seemed to be. The hotel wasn’t brilliant either, it was centred around a courtyard in the middle, so the sound travelled up and made it quite noisy and the bed was ridiculously hard. Hard beds are very much de rigueur in South East Asia as they sleep on their backs, but we might as well have been sleeping on the floor. Bummer. It wasn’t all bad though, we did order pizza to the room and binge watch Stranger Things, so now at least we’re not completely behind.
The following morning, we were very ready to be heading on to Hoi An and had arranged a car via our next hotel to come and collect us. As we made the 45 minute drive down the coast, there was building work going on everywhere, with promises of new resorts and a water park in the making, all backed by Chinese and Australian investors. Da Nang is definitely going to be growing in popularity over the next few years so if you’re looking for a nice quiet authentic Vietnamese experience I would steer clear…We arrived at Duck House and were greeted by Kim, the enthusiastic owner, who showed us to our room and chatted for a while about things to do in Hoi An, as well as recommending a tailor. We’d heard that Hoi An is one of the best places in the world to have clothes made, with a full cashmere suit setting you back about £110, so we decided we were going to splash out a bit and have some clothes tailor made while we were there. So much for trying to build up the surplus again, but what are we here for if not to spend money?! We wandered off from our hotel into the old town for some lunch, and as we ambled through the yellow walled car free centre, we felt much more relaxed than we had throughout our whole time in Da Nang. We stopped off at Bup Café for some spring rolls and fried calamari before wandering down deeper into the old town. The streets are lined with lanterns and shops selling everything from army crawling spiderman toys to banana shirts to wooden handicrafts to that rolled up ice cream you see videos of everywhere on social media. The whole centre of the old town is reserved solely for bicycles and pedestrians which gives the whole place a very old world feel. It is however exceptionally busy, particularly at night. We were soon tempted into one of the many bars along the river and enjoyed a beer. Vietnam has a particularly wide selection of beers, from Bia Hanoi to Bia Saigon to Huda to LaRue, all made within the country. So far Larue has been my favourite and we’ve been casually browsing online to see if we can find a stockist in the UK for some of the best ones we’ve had out here. If anyone knows a good one let me know!
We sat and people watched for a while. Pedal taxis sailed in serpentine along the river, pushing those too lazy or perhaps too hot to walk any further. Chickens and cockerels wandered around, pecking at leftover Bahn Mi. Large groups of Chinese tourists got in the way and stood around looking underwhelmed by everything. To be fair to the Chinese tourists, we’d be miserable too if we were being ferried around places on a strict schedule, not allowed to deviate in any way from the pre-approved plan. By this point it was getting dark and we watched the sunset over the river and old women began to appear, carrying trays of lanterns that tourists can buy and float down the river. We were keen at first but questioned whether they were bio-degradable and given just how much litter there is everywhere here, we decided against it, which turned out to be the correct decision when the following morning the tide went out and there were hundreds of the things lying damp and forgotten along the banks. Still, overall, it’s a very pretty place, particularly at night, and I imagine 5/10 years ago it would have been even nicer with fewer tourists. Still, that’s how many of these places manage to keep going, and we were after all contributing to their numbers!
The following morning, we popped just up the road to visit the tailor that Kim had recommended to us: 79 Tony. When we arrived, it became no clearer as to why the place was called 79 Tony. In fact, when we arrived there didn’t appear to be anyone there at all! But we milled about for a bit and soon enough a woman appeared, speaking perfect English and clearly very happy to have some customers. We sat down and she turned on some fans and gave us a bottle of water each and we chatted for a bit about what we were looking for. Dave ended up agreeing to 3 shirts and a pair of shorts, and for myself, a pair of shorts and a dress. All in all, coming to the sum of around £140, which considering that they were going to be tailor made, is exceptionally reasonable. We could have quite happily spent hundreds of pounds in there, but we restrained ourselves, besides, she had our measurements on file now and as she was keen to point out, offered shipping to the UK. Fabrics chosen and measurements taken, we skipped off happily back to the room to chill out for a few hours as we had booked ourselves onto a street food walking tour that afternoon. Their website had advised that we “come hungry” and as 3pm rolled around and we were presented with the list of foods we were going to try, we were glad we did. Our tour guide was a young woman called Kim who looked about 17 but was probably 45. The rest of our group was made up of two young boisterous Australian teachers, and a family of 5, 2 of whom were teenage boys and looked thoroughly unhappy to be out enjoying new experiences at the expense of their parents. It’s a hard life. We started off with something called White Rose that was entirely like Momos, sort of a steamed dumpling filled with vegetables, absolutely delicious. The place was run by one family and Kim told us that only the women make the dumplings and work from 7am to 7pm 7 days a week to make between 2500 – 3500 of these tiny things, which are used both in that restaurant and also shipped to other restaurants in Hoi An. Kim also noted that the men were too easily distracted to be the ones making the dumplings, which resulted in a ripple of laughter from our group. Us women get all the best jobs. We also tried a “Hoi An Pizza” which was a sort of fried wonton covered in sweet and sour sauce. YUM. Kim then led us off the beaten path to visit places where Vietnamese people eat. Most of these are just people’s homes which are converted into eateries during the day and then back into living rooms when they close. More often than not they are run by elderly women. In Vietnamese culture, the son stays at home with his new wife when they are married and traditionally, the daughter-in-law would then take over the family restaurant. Increasingly, as Vietnam is modernising and young women find themselves better educated and with greater prospects in life, these small eateries are dying out with the women who run them. It is sad, but it’s great that women here now have more choices than just working in their in-laws restaurant. The food was phenomenal, but we were expecting nothing less to be perfectly honest! At our final stop, we were given the opportunity to make our own spring rolls. According to local custom, if a woman is able to make a good spring roll then she can guarantee acquiring a rich and handsome husband. Dave is still waiting for his to turn up. This place was run by yet another elderly woman and Kim told us that her husband had recently passed away. She told us that her children and grandchildren all live quite far away so the best part of her day is when this big hoard of westerners descends on her tiny living room as it means she can cook for them and that makes her happy. We ate and talked and at the end we all left feeling very lucky to be in the positions we’re in, visiting all these places, and having the choice to do anything we like. Suitably stuffed, we waddled back to the hotel, feeling that perhaps we should have had our measurements taken after the food tour rather than before it.
The next day we spent the morning lazing around before renting some bikes from Kim (hotel Kim not tour guide Kim) and heading up to Jack’s Cat Café, a hot 15 minute cycle ride north of the old town. The place had been set up a few years ago to help abandoned cats escape the huge cat meat trade that they have in Vietnam. It’s more of a cat sanctuary that also happens to be a café as the whole place is set in a relaxed shady garden where the cats are free to wander around at their leisure. The high walls are topped with curved plastic to prevent both the kitties from escaping, and also any potential thieves from getting in. In total, there are around 90 cats and kittens, and most are exceptionally friendly, either having been hand-reared at the centre or joining as kittens. We enjoyed a wrap and a burger and a few drinks and spent a good few hours playing and generally chilling out with the cats. It definitely made us miss our fosters from back home. After our feline excursion, we headed back to our favourite tailor to see if any alterations needed to be made. Sadly, one of the patterns Dave had picked wasn’t available so he had to choose something different and the shorts I’d had made were too small. But no bother! We still had a full day and a half left so more than enough time to have the changes made. For dinner that evening we headed back into the old town to MIX restaurant, a Greek place that had been recommended to us by an English couple we’d met in Da Nang. It definitely didn’t disappoint, and we stuffed our faces with pita and dips and souvlaki. It might not have been traditional Vietnamese fair but the food here has been absolutely exceptional, regardless of its origin. As the sun set over our final evening in Hoi An, we decided that despite the madness, it was definitely near the top of our list of places we’d been so far, and we wandered back through the lantern lit old town to our hotel.
Picking up our clothes the next morning, we headed into the old town to kill a few hours before our car to the airport at 4pm. We stopped for some spring rolls before heading down to the river for a beer. There’s a pattern developing here. As we sat and watched the world go by, we got chatting to a chap who was originally from England but moved to New Zealand 25 years ago. We talked about where we were from and what our plans were and of course Brexit. It’s really interesting to hear an outsider’s perspective on these things, in particular, his Brazilian partner said that she was at a loss as to understand what had made Britain go from a great powerhouse to a bickering bitter country. We told her that her guess was as good as ours. The more time we spend here, the more we are considering moving here to teach for a while. At least until this Brexit nonsense has blown over. But we’ll see. It’s going to take more than a really good AC unit to tear me away from prawn cocktail crisps and Costa Coffee…
Katy and Dave Avoid Adulthood 