North to Hoi An

The overnight sleeper bus from Nha Trang—singularly comfortable—gets us in to the town of Hoi An by 6:30am.  We’re met by a scant English speaker from the hotel we’ve booked, and minutes later we’re in the small lobby of the Hoang Trinh Hotel, feasting on fruit, juice, tea and delectable coconut macaroons.  The room isn’t ready, so with map in hand from the incredibly kind and helpful staff, we wander into the old town.  In its 16th c. heyday, Hoi An was a town of thriving Japanese and Chinese merchants.  The north bank of the Thu Bon River remains the showcase of Hoi An’s mercantile past.  The ochre, ceramic-tiled roofs are a newer generation of the warehouses, homes of wealthy merchants and spectacular Chinese meeting houses from the early 1800’s, which have over time and due to the unforseeable silting up of the river, essentially ended Hoi An’s remarkable commerce.  Today the Old Town is a World Heritage UNESCO site, and fortunately, therefore, protected from the ravages of modern Vietnam.  It remains home to wonderful buildings, some of which are still completely wooden, most of them now shops, restaurants, small galleries, sprinkled with a liberal dose of Chinese meeting houses, Buddhist pagodas, catch-all museums and the ubiquitous markets.  Still standing, and partially renovated, is the lovely pinkish Japanese bridge— Hoi An’s most recognized landmark.

Wandering along both river banks is a pleasure, as they are pedestrian friendly.  During significant portions of the day the Old Town is only open to bicycles and pedestrians, which seems almost miraculous in this motorbike heaven.  Of our five days in Hoi An, three were spent wandering the streets and labyrinthine alleyways of the Old Town, stopping in at old traditional Meeting Houses, and visiting several of the many temples, and a couple of hodge-podge museums.  We made a regular stop to visit a lady called Mai at her stand in the central market for her delectable mixed fruit juice topped with some coconut chips, lychee, and dried cherries.  In the heat of the middle of the day we return to our cluttered room—adorned with such oddities as velvet heart pillows, teacups, a toilet paper roll holder(with toilet paper on it!), and read, rest and do the laundry, which we can conveniently hang on our minute balcony.  In the evenings the riverbanks are festooned with a rainbow of cloth lanterns, the bridges are lit, and the local vendors do their best to sell  their floating candle boats(meant to bring good luck), peanuts, ginger, and sweetened coconut.  There is a nightly sung game on a small square, which appears to be a sort of Bingo, which animated Vietnamese tourists attend in droves.  Night life per se is negligible, except from a backpacker bar on the south bank, and so it’s easy to fall into bed early, ready to begin the next day around dawn.

We (and all the other guests)were treated like family by the hotel, where one evening we were invited to a huge buffet/dinner given for all the guests(16 rooms worth), with all manner of local and regional Vietnamese dishes.  A veritable feast, one they appear do with some regularity.  We receive fruit juices and plates of fruit every afternoon as we dodge the worst heat of the day, and the staff graciously helps us book the next hotel, buy our bus tickets north, and anything else that might come up.  On the day we check out, we each receive a small gift from the staff, along with hugs and endless good wishes. 

		In Hoi An VIEW SLIDE SHOW DOWNLOAD ALL