Hoi An

(Written 28 September 2008)

From Dalat we made our way back to Saigon, where we drove through that damn peak hour traffic again (thanks to Jetstar bringing forward our original departure time) to the airport, from whence we flew to get to Hoi An.

We stayed in a lovely little hotel (little is the word, too – all the rooms were tiny) where the owners and staff were all exceptionally nice and helpful. The food and drinks were all very good, too. Many were the wonton soup orders from our group, as it was particularly delicious.

We did notice that when a food order was made, from the balcony we would see a man head out on his motorbike. Later, he would return with something in a plastic bag, and a few minutes later, lo and behold, our food would be served. It must have been frustrating for him when we all ordered one after the other, as often happens with a bunch of people all doing different things.

The hotel is just near the old town, which has been/is being restored to its former – if not grandeur, perhaps glory would be the word. Lots of small but very lovely old buildings, some of which you can visit inside. It is amazing how much cooler inside they were than out, with no airconditioning, just clever use of breezes, water and shade.

In the town there are also many, many local handicrafts of varying quality, thousands of make-to-order tailors and shoemakers (most of which we were advised to avoid) and a very few truly exceptional shops.

On our way there, I had bought some beautiful silks, which I then had made up into the traditional costume of Vietnam – a very flattering garment – which makes one look as if one has long legs right up to the waist.

The food in the touristy bit was not as good as where the locals ate, as you might imagine. Such a shame when things get westernised, especially since the local food is so very good.

We went to a cooking class at the Red Bridge cooking school. It starts with a tour of the market in Hoi An, followed by a boat ride up the river to the school. The recipes were divine, the chef hilarious and there was even a pool to chuck your kids in for the duration (or yourself, after you've eaten the meal you've cooked).

One night, Pauline, Jodie and I went for a walk into an area much more frequented by locals and saw more of the way they live there. On our way, we were approached by a woman with two small girls. She asked us where we were going, and when we told her that we were 'just walking', she invited us to come and see her house. So we visited for half an hour or so, chatted and played with the girls, who were charming.

She showed us the marks on the walls that showed how high the last floods had been – over a metre up from the floor. Apparently it happens for a few days every year, and everyone has to move everything up into a second story and live on instant noodles while it lasts. She told us that it was exhausting, which we could well believe: we're talking having to move the fridge and freezer, among other heavy items.

Everywhere we go in Vietnam seems more beautiful and wonderful than the last place, but I think the truth is that it's all gorgeous, in different ways. Our next stop was Ha Noi.