Hoi An, Vietnam

Dawn dreams fade into green rice fields and foggy skies.

“It’ll burn off in an hour,” she says looking out at our neighbors and their water buffalo already at work. “Until then I want to sit here and watch the rice grow. Listen, the local garbage truck is playing happy wakeup tunes.”

This lazy behavior will pass for now he thought but once the sun is properly up it’s heads down and pedal to the metal. The ladies of the terrace would not think well of guests that arrive for breakfast with egg already on their faces, awash in a sea of indecision or simply not hungry.

We had traded the roughing it rivers of Laos for the tranquility of the Central Vietnam coast. A stopover in Hanoi, “The Land of a Million Noodle Shops” where water puppet theaters, daily batches of cheap beer and street food abound, was noisy and crowded. Every street corner seemed to be filled with children’s furniture, teas and steaming pots of local specialties

Hoi An Waterfront

Hanoi is anarchy with bits of thousand-years-old culture hanging onto the back of a motorbike, horn a blasting. (Editor’s note: Please be advised that what says roast chicken on the menu may in fact be roast chicken feet which many people are said to enjoy.)

An hour away by plane and a short drive delivers us to The Hoi An Greenlife Homestay. Of all the enchanting guesthouses in this world heritage locale, this one stands out. The room is spacious and airy while bright green rice fields dominate the view. The design is thoughtful, the touches plentiful, the location perfect and the attitude of the staff (Ngoc, Dung, Loan and Ni) was beyond measure. This is the way to operate a successful guesthouse. We suggest making reservations at least two months ahead and specifying the rice paddy view.

The breakfast feast (included in the room tariff of $40 for two) starts with delicious Vietnamese coffee (see Sweet Revenge saga coming up) and juice. Our morning munching continues with spicy Morning Glory and plates of accompanying greens. Then we have friend sticky rice and stuffed dumplings (Ban Bao) with an impressive fresh fruit plate and baguette. The main course is comprised of Cao Lau, a pork soup dish similar to Pho which is beef-based. It drowns out any call for fried eggs. Cau Lau is a Hoi An original and one won’t find it outside of Hoi An, so they tell us.

These daily breakfasts were also the site for the final chapter of the “Sweet Revenge” Saga, which began in Bangkok some five weeks earlier. Every morning a bitter struggle ensues between Fresh Coffee Aficionados and what we will call Nescafe Thought. Unless you like coffee that tastes like Dr Pepper you are in for a test of wills. The problem is that coffee is taken with lots of sugar and sweetened milk here. Never mind that the crop is grown in country. Forget that some people actually like the taste of coffee.

     In Lao they say Baw sai naam-tan karuna, which means no sugar please. I managed to communicate that on the last morning in that wonderful country and enjoyed the exchange immensely.

     Therefore, if you’re not paying total attention at all times you will be presented with a hot cup of sweet Nescafe and a smile. The most effective way to get the coffee you like is to ask for fresh coffee (it’s probably hidden back between the mangoes and the goat’s milk) and bring your own unsweetened milk or cream. After a few episodes the server will see that you are picky about your morning brew and make the necessary adjustments, maybe.

     Even after extended conversations about coffee quality here and the caffeine subculture worldwide I still got Nescafe and sweetened milk from the same nice people who would always do what it takes to make me feel special. (Many of our readers have written in suggesting that one skips the coffee thing altogether and go directly to a morning beer or breakfast cylinder, a malt beverage whose taste tends to be more regulated and controlled and does not depend on foreign additives after the fact.)

After devouring the fare we grab our bicycles (compliments of the guest house) and towels and head to either to the more local An Bang Beach or Cua Dai Beach, with its bigger hotel scene. Both measure up quite well to beaches in Brasil, Thailand or the Mediterranean.

Alas, the situation threatens to turn stressful. Which beach should we go to today? The Adventures of Bicycles and Buses is a little less frightening on the An Bang route and if the visitor gets off the beaten path and into a village or two he can avoid some of the large traffic on a skinny roadway. The entire matter of survival has something to do with fish streaming together into the sea but I never grasped the concept. (Make note that during the 6 am rush hour all contrived understanding curves, digested explanation charts and personal growth data should be tossed out the window until at least 8 am when the bicycle hoards are culled a bit.)

But back to the beach: Near the main beach road sits Baby Mustard, a restaurant and cooking school in the Tra Que Vegetable Village. Great food woth a garden view. Ask for Ms. Cao Nhu Nguyet and the sesame pork dish. Lunch and dinner served daily.

Ringed by Cham Island and the gentle surf of the East Sea our beach experience comes complete with coconut palms, bicycle parking lots, rows of lounge chairs and ice-cold Saigon, Tiger, Bierre Larue beers for a dollar.

Highly recommended at An Bang is Nam Gia Seafood, a family operation…second stall from the right, next to last bicycle parking area.

“What if the beer isn’t cold?” I ask a young lady from Nam Gia. “You no pay,” she says. What if it’s too cold?” You pay double.” She smiles.

Roaming the beaches here are legions of hawkers we call hawkettes. They sell an ungodly number of pear-brained, non-essential items and some utilitarian treasures such as sunglasses and peanuts. They are smart and funny as a rule, and can be easily disarmed by a personal touch. Soon the conversation can be hijacked to family and children. “What’s your name beautiful lady? Do your children like crayons and balloons?”

Then the mindless selling is on hold for a moment as they size you up. They talk to my companion about hair and skin tones and call me Happy Buddha Belly, which I prefer to accept as a term of endearment.

Pedaling home amid mad cabs and buses, we see that a local man named Buffalo Yung will pose with his oblivious animal for one dollar. His new book How To Placate an Angry Water Buffalo reportedly comes with an assortment of favorite water buffalo snacks meant to sooth the savage beast. We stop. How could we not?

After six hours in salt water and sand a shower is heavenly. Then a stroll to town for dinner. The stalls are still jammed with junk and the hawkers are busy. The crazy drivers now have lights on their vehicles.

“Hello. You buy something?” rings in my ears. Through the narrow streets we pass people selling everything from cycling tours to baskets of squid. You see a kaleidoscope of quick movements, vivid color and motorbikes, cooking schools, designer sunglasses, spas and a throng of tailors that will make you a new suit in 24 hours.

Vietnamese food is one treat after another. One can sample rice pancakes at Tam Quang Minh, a local vegetarian eatery on Ly Thai To Street near our guesthouse. Ban Xeo (the pancakes) are filled with bean sprouts and other vegetables and/or shrimp served with greens, pickled vegetables, and spring rolls all wrapped in rice paper. Add hot sauce and dip the whole concoction in peanut sauce. Go on. You know you want to. Also Blue Dragon Café on the Thu Bon River next to the Hoi An Market is good and the hosts very warm. Vietnamese specialties are the draw at Ong Bee Lounge, on Nguyen Duy Hieu near the Central Market. Cam Ga signs are everywhere – famed chicken and rice dish. Of course, the most famous Vietnamese dish – Pho – (fur), delicious beef and noodles, is everywhere.

NOTES:

*Fly to DaNang from Hanoi or Saigon (HCM City), then 45 minutes to Hoi An for $20.

*Never saw cops or soldiers or crime in Hoi An in two weeks.

*No detectable animosity toward Americans? Average age there is 21.

*“Chinese were in Vietnam 1000 years, the French for 150 and the American 15” – appraisal by Vietnamese friend.

*If you are hungry in Vietnam you haven’t been paying attention

Another day, another dong?  According to my calculations I saved $387 on gasoline and toilet paper in two months while traveling. Saved $85 by not buying the cute baby monkey in Nong Khiaw, Laos = $472 to get through April and May.

– Kevin Haley