Hoi An

Hue to Danang - one of the most spectacular train journeys in the world, we are reliably informed by our Footprint guide book. I suppose it was pretty impresive as we snaked our way up the Hai Van Pass, teetering on the edge of a 500 meter cliff. 90% of the carriage agreed and moved over to our side for a better view causing a camber that was scarier then the precipice itself. Lomg tunnels followed and having been forwarned about potential bag-snatchers we clutched our backpacks tightly.

Simultaneously, Ruby got a whiff of my hastily purchased platform side "rice" wrapped in banana leaf which turned out to be pig brain pate and she clutched her stomach producing a huge technicolour yawn (as it transpired, upon exiting the tunnel).

The taxi ride was scenic too, running parallel to China Beach where American service men got a brief respite from their hellish battles with the VC. After passing the Marble Mountains, the final approach to Hoi An was through a 4 km2 paddy field filled with storks, ducks and water buffalo. Pretty inspiring, even if we were getting a bit blasé about the beautiful landscapes as we have been lucky enough to see so many.

So here we are in Hoi An, the morning of the most anticipated rugby match in 4 years and what are we doing? Clothes shopping. Every other shop is a tailor. Karen gets fitted for a dress and I can’t stop myself blurting out to the assistant “Rugby? World Cup?”. Swinging my arms from side to side in a less than perfect charade of the David Duckham dummy pass. Completely lost on the lot of them so I morosely trudge to the next fitting. So slowly in fact, that I completely lose track of the entire family but serendipitously, whilst scanning 360 degrees, I catch sight of a blackboard outside a bar with the cheering message World Cup Final Tonight! 2am, open til 4am! Some cheeky French scoundrel running a bar here has decided to stay open late in spite of some sour semi-final grapes, quel gentilhomme! My spirits are lifted further by the unusual find of a bottle of Villa Maria sauvignon for lunch (which reminds me of NZ sad demise in the 1/4s). I enjoy the boat trip through town and out to the coast in spite of running aground and narrowly avoiding a water snake.

Having put the kids to bed, I track down a bottle of bubbly for Karen and leave at 8pm for the usual 6-hour build up to the game. Guilt-free, I might add, thanks to my eternally patient Pie who has put up with this 4 times now including the inevitable 12 hour hangover i.e. sole charge of the kids. OK, so we lost and they deserved to win in spite of the dubious Lewsey “try” decision so I go for a bit of shopping theraopy to the tune of 5 shirts and 5 pairs of trousers made to measure for £100 plus £20 p&p by sea to the UK. Roll on 2011.

So apart from shopping and rugby, what else was memorable about Hoi An? The weather, whilst not deluge ridden like Hue was mainly rainy or cloudy so we did a spot of sightseeing. Nothing amazing, but it was all divided up into rather convenient bite-sized chunks of 15-30 minutes, which was perfect for the kids. The Japanese covered bridge was impressive, originally constructed in 1590 to link the Japanese and Chinese quarters with a brace of monkeys at one end and a couple of dogs at the other, signifying the Chinese years of commencement and completion. The Tran family chapel was another interesting house, 200 years old and built exclusively to house Mr Tran’s ancestors, spooky.

The handicraft village was intriguing for the kids including one form of tribal weaving that took about a minute a stitch. I think Mr Singer pissed on that particular commercial bonfire. Also the house of the Tan Ky family was noteworthy if only because the same family has been living there for hundreds of years but they have no successors and being octogenarians, are unlikely to have any now. They also keep a record of the flood level which was pretty high (armchair level) only two weeks before, but nothing compared to 1964 when it reached the roof beams.

We went to the Marble Mountains that had important religious significance when part of the Champa Kingdom (incorporated into Vietnam in C18th). The peaks are named after the 5 elements – water, wood, fire, metal and earth and were a VC guerrilla-ridden thorn in the US army’s side due to the commanding view over the strategic Danang airbase.

Sunshine at least so it was off to Cau Dai by exhilarating motorbike taxi. A beautiful unspoilt beach, 5km east of Hoi An. The wonderful white sand is just starting to be dotted with new hotels so get there quick if you can. Maybe this beach was what Jeremy Clarkson’s book of excerpts from his Sunday Times column was referring to when he said that Vietnam’s beaches are the best in the world, far eclipsing Malibu and Mauritius. The Catch 22 is that after half an hour on a deserted idyll, you start wondering where your next g&t is coming from. Fair enough, but if you come prepared with your chilled vodka in a free Green Discovery thermos, you get the best of both worlds. The waves were 4ft or so, about a foot higher than Harley, who wisely pottered around the shoreline. Ruby however, impressed us with her bravery, charging into the waves and trying out bodysurfing for the first time, in preparation for Bondi perhaps. After a 2 km stroll up the beach we’d succumbed to the Clarkson phenomenon and dived into the only 5 star hotel in Hoi An, the Golden Sands. I’m not sure if it really deserves this accolade as the wine list was poor, the food average and the service grossly inattentive, thus allowing us to wander around free of charge including an hour long monopoly of the piping hot Jacuzzi. The staff also busily ignored an aged Swiss tourist choking on a fish bone but luckily Karen didn’t, bless her cotton socks. The pool was immense, a full 150m incorporating 2 bridges and 2 bars. Muggins decides to asks Ruby to time a couple of lengths, 6 minutes and 300m later, a dazed, drowning daddy returns and miraculously Ruby is sill counting 335, 336…a great end to our visit to Hoi An. Ok it was touristy, but in a quaint and friendly way, unlike Danang, a large fishing port with very little character from where we took the plane to our next stop in SW Vietnam, Nha Trang.