We over-nighted in Singapore, taking taxis to a couple of big shopping Malls and discovering that the only bargains to be had were for the “Petite” sizes among us, of which there were none. Getting back to the hotel became interesting – on Friday night in Singapore at around 9.30pm the taxi supply tends to dry up as demand goes through the roof. We queued for 15 minutes and considered ourselves lucky - Donna and Craig had a 45 minute wait for their ride home.
We flew Silkair to Da Nang with an unexpected stop at Siem Reap in Cambodia (well it wouldn’t have been unexpected if one of us had read the ticket more closely). Donna had requested “Gluten Free” meals and both Singapore Air and Silkair interpreted this to mean thick rice cakes with no topping for snacks. She had enough rice cakes to build a scale model of the Ankar Wat temple by the time she got to Da Nang, as rice cakes wrapped in gladwrap look about as appetising as a house brick.
By the time we resolved our Visas and got out of the airport it was early evening and we chugged through the streets of Da Nang watching people making their way out for a good Saturday night – lots of big open-air cafes along the beachfront – and lots of motor scooters. “Are there many traffic accidents here?” Justin asked our driver Lah. “Lots” he replied. Apparently there are 28,000 road fatalities per year in Vietnam, mostly scooter drivers. There are few rules and many opportunities.
Our hotel - the Intercontinental Resort -was about 45 minutes from the airport and it is just in another world altogether. It is sheer opulence with a wow factor as you walk from reception to the fishing boat-shaped funicular railway (the Nam Tram) that ferries you up and down the hill that the resort sprawls over. The rooms are luxurious almost to the point that you half expect someone to tap you on the shoulder and say “We’re on to you sunshine, now hop it.” It’s an unfinished work though and in another 12 months it will be sensational. The beach is beautiful and clean although the sand itself presented us with problems. It holds in the summer heat. It got me first as I slopped down for a swim – hot – very hot – but as I increased my speed it only meant that a stream of molten sand started to flip up my bum and back as my thongs dug in deeper. I know there weren’t clouds of steam coming off my feet as I hit the water – but there should have been.
It then got very slap-stick when Craig lost one thong in the sand during his journey to the water. He couldn’t retrieve it because the heat of the sand afforded no linger-time so Donna and then Maurs tried to help. They looked like a bunch of failed Fijian firewalkers hot-footing it over the sand until Craig eventually located the buried thong. We now treat the sand with respect.
The currency of course is the Vietnamese Dong and you get about 20 thousand of them to the Aussie dollar, making some of the bills eye-openers for us. Our first dinner saw me signing off for a cool 5.5 million Dong. I may have a touch of the vapours when I get the final hotel account.
We took a day-trip to Hoi An, which is a delightful little town south of Da Nang. It has a much more sedate feel than other Asian towns, not so many cars and bikes, quaint buildings, nice cafes and a reputation for tailors. Justin and Maurs took advantage of that and had some outfits made up. Pretty well same day service although I imagine suits could take a day and a half!
A final note about the climate and the people. July is mid-summer and it’s HOT! The odd storm floats around the ridges but overall provides no relief from the heat and humidity. The Vietnamese compensate by keeping in the shade and having ice-cold coffee drinks that are heavenly - and the local beer (Larue) helps. The people are just beautiful – smiling and polite, lots trying to master English and make a better life. Just like Americans (...the bit about trying to master English anyway).
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