It was about a 45 minute drive to Hoi An, which is on the coast of South China Sea. We saw a mixture of city and rural, with many, many rice paddies. By the time we got to Hoi An, it was dark. We pulled into the Betel Garden, which was a delightful garden courtyard hung with lanterns. Brick laid pathways wove through the tropical garden areas, with candle lit tables placed here and there. We were shown to a little pagoda, where tea was brought to us, and then a young man joined us to welcome us and get our information. Then we were shown to a sweet guest room. Built in the traditional VN garden home style, it was fitted with modern conveniences - television with multiple channels (we took their word for it, never watching any); air conditioning, private bathroom, stocked fridge. Bathrobes in the closet, flip flops for inside use (all shoes taken off on the steps), umbrellas for use during the day. A porch with reclining chairs that wrapped around the guest room front and side. Two smaller guest rooms adjoined ours. A larger one was a building to itself. The family house was also part of the compound, with two adjoining guest rooms. There were three young staff that spoke some English, a gardener who brought out the bicycles for us each day, and the elusive family who cooked the meals. It turned out our driver from the airport was the son of the owner. The home has been in the family for a number of generations, one of the many "garden homes" of the area. I suspect it has only been in recent years that they have added the guest rooms and gone into the hospitality business.
Thursday we ventured into the old town on our borrowed bicycles. Luckily, the traffic is much calmer in Hoi An. It is a kilometer into town. Hoi An is an old city, once the main port city of the area but than over shadowed by other cities. It is very touristy - I saw more Westerners on Thursday afternoon than I saw altogether in Hanoi. It is known for its old merchant houses that are part of the old riverfront section of town, as well as its Chinese assembly halls and temples. Its heyday was in the 17th century, and is considered the best preserved port of this era in Southeast Asia - thus has become a UNESCO World Heritage Site. While we found the Betel Garden incredibly relaxing, quiet and with excellent service, in the town we were constantly harangued to buy, buy, buy. A bit sad of what tourism has done. It took a lot of energy to stay focused.
Hoi An is also well known for its textiles and tailors - on of the things one "must do" is have clothing made for you. We were recommended a tailor shop from Betel Garden, and both Dashal and I ordered a few items of clothing. We were measured every which way, and told to come back the next day for a fitting. Quite worn out from such demanding work of shopping, we bicycled home for a bit of an afternoon nap! Later that evening we walked a bit back toward town to pick out a restaurant for dinner. All these lantern lit restaurants were along the river, but playing very obnoxious, loud disco music. We passed one after the other until we came to one that was playing quiet music and had fountains in it's garden court. So we decided to try that one. The prices seemed decent.
We were greeted by several young people who showed us courteously to a table, pulling out the chairs for us, putting the cloth napkins in our laps (very unusual for Vietnamese restaurants, where service is basically yelling out what you want and them plunking the food down). The dinner was quite good. While eating it, a man from Australia stopped by and introduced himself as Ron. Turns out he owns the restaurant, though he generally lives in Australia where he is a rancher. Sort of came upon it when visiting Vietnam a few years after his wife died and kids were grown. It is run as a non-profit, managed by a Vietnamese couple who are also the cooks. All the staff are young teenagers from the streets or the orphanage. They are taught how to wait upon tables, to cook, to use good manners, to speak some English, etc. so that they have some good life skills. He was quite enjoyable, and the story rather fascinating. Made eating there twice as much fun.
Friday was more shopping, trying on the clothing, and wandering around town seeing the historical sites. That evening we were treated, along with the other guests at Betel Garden, to a dinner in the courtyard. The young staff both served us and joined us for dinner. The food was excellent, the company quite enjoyable. I was the matron of the group - the other six at the table were all young adults from Germany. Three different parties, and most of them spoke English.
Saturday we went on a tour to My Son (pronounced Me Saun), considered Vietnam's ancient "holy land." About 30 miles away from Hoi An, it is a 1,500 year old brick-built temple complex that had been lost and forgotten in the jungle until discovered by the French in 1898. Built by the Cham dynasty over a 1,000 year period, there is a great mystery as to how the bricks hold together, as there is no evidence of mortar. Also a UNESCO World Heritage site, they are still excavating parts of the complex. Two sections were destroyed by US bombing when it was believed that the Viet Cong were hiding there (which our guide emphatically said was totally incorrect). We took a big tour bus to the site, spent several hours wandering around the site, then were bussed to the river to take a small two-decker boat back down to Hoi An. Between the bus and the boat, we saw a lot of rural countryside. A very pleasant day.
10:00 p.m. We are now back in Hanoi. This morning after breakfast we packed up our stuff and left it at the reception desk, then borrowed the bikes to go to the beach. It was an absolutely beautiful day, the first clear day since I've been here. The beach is very nice, the water rather warm (I only waded, Dashal did a bit of swimming), the view spectacular. Now I can add one more ocean I've waded in. Then biked the 2 kilometers back, had lunch, and were driven back to the airport. An hour flight brought us into Hanoi. After dropping the suitcase off at Dashal's house, we walked down the street to have a "hotpot" dinner. They have metal tables with a hole in the middle, in which they place a pot of burning coals. Around this they place a metal ring, that then holds a pot of broth, meat, tofu and a few other things like some strange berry and sweet potato. We are given a basket of leafy greens and noodles to add to the pot. When the broth goes down, they bring a pitcher of broth to replenish it. It was quite fun. When we asked for a container to take some home for Nick (who was working tonight), they brought two plastic bags. We laughingly said we should just pour the soup into the bags, but waited for the container. Turns out, you pour the soup into the bag (double bagged)! Really made us giggle. So we brought Nick home a bag of soup!
So tomorrow is my last day here before my marathon trip home. I have a few more gifts to buy, and maybe another foot massage to endure, before I leave. I'm actually ready to come home, I think. I'll post some photos tomorrow, when Dashal's camera is recharged.
Thursday we ventured into the old town on our borrowed bicycles. Luckily, the traffic is much calmer in Hoi An. It is a kilometer into town. Hoi An is an old city, once the main port city of the area but than over shadowed by other cities. It is very touristy - I saw more Westerners on Thursday afternoon than I saw altogether in Hanoi. It is known for its old merchant houses that are part of the old riverfront section of town, as well as its Chinese assembly halls and temples. Its heyday was in the 17th century, and is considered the best preserved port of this era in Southeast Asia - thus has become a UNESCO World Heritage Site. While we found the Betel Garden incredibly relaxing, quiet and with excellent service, in the town we were constantly harangued to buy, buy, buy. A bit sad of what tourism has done. It took a lot of energy to stay focused.
Hoi An is also well known for its textiles and tailors - on of the things one "must do" is have clothing made for you. We were recommended a tailor shop from Betel Garden, and both Dashal and I ordered a few items of clothing. We were measured every which way, and told to come back the next day for a fitting. Quite worn out from such demanding work of shopping, we bicycled home for a bit of an afternoon nap! Later that evening we walked a bit back toward town to pick out a restaurant for dinner. All these lantern lit restaurants were along the river, but playing very obnoxious, loud disco music. We passed one after the other until we came to one that was playing quiet music and had fountains in it's garden court. So we decided to try that one. The prices seemed decent.
We were greeted by several young people who showed us courteously to a table, pulling out the chairs for us, putting the cloth napkins in our laps (very unusual for Vietnamese restaurants, where service is basically yelling out what you want and them plunking the food down). The dinner was quite good. While eating it, a man from Australia stopped by and introduced himself as Ron. Turns out he owns the restaurant, though he generally lives in Australia where he is a rancher. Sort of came upon it when visiting Vietnam a few years after his wife died and kids were grown. It is run as a non-profit, managed by a Vietnamese couple who are also the cooks. All the staff are young teenagers from the streets or the orphanage. They are taught how to wait upon tables, to cook, to use good manners, to speak some English, etc. so that they have some good life skills. He was quite enjoyable, and the story rather fascinating. Made eating there twice as much fun.
Friday was more shopping, trying on the clothing, and wandering around town seeing the historical sites. That evening we were treated, along with the other guests at Betel Garden, to a dinner in the courtyard. The young staff both served us and joined us for dinner. The food was excellent, the company quite enjoyable. I was the matron of the group - the other six at the table were all young adults from Germany. Three different parties, and most of them spoke English.
Saturday we went on a tour to My Son (pronounced Me Saun), considered Vietnam's ancient "holy land." About 30 miles away from Hoi An, it is a 1,500 year old brick-built temple complex that had been lost and forgotten in the jungle until discovered by the French in 1898. Built by the Cham dynasty over a 1,000 year period, there is a great mystery as to how the bricks hold together, as there is no evidence of mortar. Also a UNESCO World Heritage site, they are still excavating parts of the complex. Two sections were destroyed by US bombing when it was believed that the Viet Cong were hiding there (which our guide emphatically said was totally incorrect). We took a big tour bus to the site, spent several hours wandering around the site, then were bussed to the river to take a small two-decker boat back down to Hoi An. Between the bus and the boat, we saw a lot of rural countryside. A very pleasant day.
10:00 p.m. We are now back in Hanoi. This morning after breakfast we packed up our stuff and left it at the reception desk, then borrowed the bikes to go to the beach. It was an absolutely beautiful day, the first clear day since I've been here. The beach is very nice, the water rather warm (I only waded, Dashal did a bit of swimming), the view spectacular. Now I can add one more ocean I've waded in. Then biked the 2 kilometers back, had lunch, and were driven back to the airport. An hour flight brought us into Hanoi. After dropping the suitcase off at Dashal's house, we walked down the street to have a "hotpot" dinner. They have metal tables with a hole in the middle, in which they place a pot of burning coals. Around this they place a metal ring, that then holds a pot of broth, meat, tofu and a few other things like some strange berry and sweet potato. We are given a basket of leafy greens and noodles to add to the pot. When the broth goes down, they bring a pitcher of broth to replenish it. It was quite fun. When we asked for a container to take some home for Nick (who was working tonight), they brought two plastic bags. We laughingly said we should just pour the soup into the bags, but waited for the container. Turns out, you pour the soup into the bag (double bagged)! Really made us giggle. So we brought Nick home a bag of soup!
So tomorrow is my last day here before my marathon trip home. I have a few more gifts to buy, and maybe another foot massage to endure, before I leave. I'm actually ready to come home, I think. I'll post some photos tomorrow, when Dashal's camera is recharged.
Great blog, Joey! If you are still there, do give my love to Dashal. I really liked the story of the restaurant owned by the Australian and run as a non-profit. That is so neat that someone would do that. Have a safe trip home.
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