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.

Mui Ne and Dalat

(Written 24 September 2008)

We left Saigon for Mui Ne, a beach-side town, where we stayed in a pleasant resort that is usually frequented by Vietnamese tourists. These have a habit of all going together in large family groups, of bringing their own food and snacks (they want it cooked just they way they are used to) and of singing songs in a rousing chorus before and after dinner, more and more drunkenly. Unlike your average Australians would be, drinking beer in such large groups, these people were all rather sweet and not at all offensive in their behaviour.

Next door was the almost unbelievably opulent Pandanus resort. No matter where you go in the world, you can always find somewhere to stay that will cost you hundreds of US dollars a night. This was one of those. We cheekily made full use of its facilities: silk weaving demonstrations in the vast lobby, full body massages in the spa and swimming in the fabulous, undulating pool.

Then it was on to Dalat in the mountains, where the French were once wont to go to escape the heat, and where they had built many large and beautiful villas that are now lived in by the well-off, when they are not sadly abandoned instead. People in Dalat are noticeably fashion-conscious, and tend to pile on the layers, despite the fact that it's not really all that cold.

We visited a silk factory, where you can wander about freely to observe the whole process. Large trays of silk worm cocoons are fed into troughs of hot water, which softens the threads and kills the worms. Women then remove the outer layer, and find the end of the silk thread. Ten strands are then put together to make one yarn, and are wound p above the trough, where the cocoons bob about as they unravel. When they are spent, the silk worms are collected (apparently they make good eating). On the other side of the room, the yarn is woven into fine, jacquard patterned fabric, using looms that still have punched cards to determine the pattern.

Later, we went to a small place that makes beautiful hand-woven cloth, where we bought up big and were entertained by a very cheeky little girl who played hide and seek with us.

In the afternoon, we went to the head office of a silk embroidery company, which is set up as a museum complete with tour guide and a series of shops at the exit. the embroideries are of an extremely high level of skill, and frequently of an enormous size. The embroiderers are considered artists and their job is a calling.

In one of the galleries they have displayed a piece that was made by a woman who had worked in a tea shop. She watched the embroiderers going to work each day and decided that it must be an easy job, so she applied to learn the trade. When she had finished this particular piece, she was asked to unpick her mistakes and to change some of the colours she had chosen. Instead, she cut slashes through it. It was the most perfect expression of the frustration of this kind of high-precision work. As our group are all crafters, we could very much relate! Fortunately, the company decided to assist her to continue and she is now one of their highly skilled artists. They decided to display the slashed work as an illustration of how difficult the work can be. (Not that we were in any doubt!)