The arrival in Hoi An marked a step change in the pace of the trip
than the leisurely speed with which things had been conducted so far.

My first impression of the place was that the hotels were all spread
along one road heading away from the town. It seemed the more
expensive the hotel, the further away it was! The really expensive
places had little shuttle buses to ferry the affluent public to their
new suits and dresses.

We were staying in a nice little hotel about 20 mind walk from the
centre of the action and for the first time, we had a swimming pool
and a half decent restaurant in the hotel (or so we thought!)

Chinh took us on a short tour of the town and we got to eat ice cream
and cakes in this amazing little delicatessen/restaurant called Cargo.
Truly lovely. The old town of Hoi An is like a little piece of
colonial history with almost Mediterranean architecture lining the
narrow, sometimes cobbled, streets. The whole place was a really odd
juxtaposition of colonial style mixed with Asian culture - the noise,
the markets, the people and the ubiquitous motorbikes. Thank god
though someone had had the common sense to ban motorbikes from the old
town so the peace and quiet was only broken by the 'ting ting' of a
bicycle bell every now and again. It was a pleasant insight into what
Vietnam might have been like before Honda ruined the tranquility with
50cc nightmares equipped with disproportionate horns.

After our tour we were allowed to waver around and some ventured to
the beach (more on this later) and others were straight into Yaly (the
most famous of the tailors in Hoi An) or other such establishments.
Dan and I went to find a pub!

The next morning I awoke for a brief run to the beach 3km away and
when I got there, I was confronted by about 6km of golden sand, clean
water and approximately 10 people as far as I could see. Heaven!

I left the beach and headed to the tailors, taking in a few sites
along the way (the local market, the oldest bridge in Hoi An) before I
came to Sun Tailors. This place had been recommended by Chinh as being
quite good value in terms of price and good quality clothing. I
thought I could get some work shirts made for the inevitable office
job looming in the distance future. I managed to pick up 24 hours
later, 5 thin, Egyptian cotton shirts, cut to a Hackett pattern, all
in different materials and finished superbly, for about £35! Simply
incredible. Between the measurement and picking them up, I negotiated
a taxi fare to the beach and was delivered to a really friendly little
beach cafe run by a lovely local lady who seemed genuinely overjoyed
to see me (and my compatriots the following day) and was so attentive
in providing cold drinks and excellent food at reasonable prices that
I fell in love with Hoi An. It was a place where you could sun
yourself all day for a pittance and then Sun yourself in the late
afternoon and evening for fittings and new clothes. After 4 months in
the same clothes, it was nice to have a fresh shirt to go out in for
dinner!

So impressed was I with Sun's tailoring skills (yes there was actually
a Mr Sun) that when the hotel laundry destroyed a pair of combat
trousers, I went to Sun himself and asked him to make me another pair
in less that 24 hours using another pair for a template and with only
1 fitting the following day, he produced the goods. Not only that but
they cost me about £15!

The story was the same throughout the group: one girl got her wedding
dress made and another a couple of work suits. Best though was Dan who
had a 3 piece pinstripe suit made to go with his duffle trench coat
but then also got a hoodie made in the same material as the suit and 2
pairs of jeans made to a Diesel pattern - all in 48hrs.

We left Hoi An having found an amazingly hidden nightclub which from
the outside, and even if you went inside to the ground floor bar,
seemed quiet and sleepy but if you persisted and headed upstairs, you
were met with the partying crowds of Hoi An (who were predominantly
backpackers/Intrepid tourers!).

Following a few quiet drinks in this bar, the majority of the crowd
had departed and we were invited by perhaps the most effeminate man I
have EVER met to go along with a group of other people to another bar
elsewhere in the city. Who were we to refuse? After all, the night was
young. Well actually it was morning but you get my drift.

We arrived at the next bar after a somewhat hairy moto ride with Dan
and I sharing the space on a 50cc monstrosity with a vocal Vietnamese
rider who seemed convinced for some reason that we should pay him
double the agreed fare on arrival. Sadly to hid chagrin, we were not
in a bartering mood and entered the bar to continue the festivities.

It was after a couple more beers that nature beckoned so off I
tottered to do what men do and after I was finished I thought about
hygiene so decided to wash my hands before returning to drink more
beer. Slightly confused by the sheer number of options of taps in the
cubicle (there were 5!) I took my life in my hands, turned one and
looked down to await sanitation. At that moment, the shower in the
cubicle, which insisted of a large pipe fed from an overhead tank,
deluged me with about 20 litres of tepid water before I realised and
managed to turn the tap off. Needless to say I returned to the bar
absolutely soaked through and had to continue imbibing beer subjected
to Dan's ridicule and standing in a small pool of water formed by
drips from my body. Looking back I can see the funny side......

We awoke the same morning (having got home at about 6am) to board the
day train to Da Nang and thankfully even Chinh wasn't in a rice wine
mood that day because I didn't feel up to it.

Chinh told us we were getting the most expensive seats on the train
but that it wouldn't be an overly pleasant journey. I had fully
intended to sleep of the revelry of the previous evening but when we
boarded the train (laden with supplies for the journey ahead) we were
met by the sensory onslaught that was to nearly break me over the next
11 hours on this train. I have mentioned previously that Asians like
to have loud entertainment on public transport in the form of crap
films or dodgy music and this train was no exception. Indeed, because
we were in the most expensive seats, we had the best soundsystem and
oftentimes, the steward would treat us to both tortures at the same
time! Dan and I broke into his little cabin at one point in an effort
to quell the onslaught but the dastardly man evidently thought that
there had been a technical glitch so reset all the volumes to an ear
shattering 'Spinal Tap 11' and we carried on from there.

Needless to say we arrived in Nha Trang in a fairly ropey state but as
we only had 36 hrs in which to see the town, a quick overnight sleep
led to an esplanade run the next morning to catch some morning
exercise and see the best of the city.

My time in Nha Trang was characterised by 2 things only: firstly, the
day after we arrived, the heavens opened and the little boat tour to
an aquarium and a lovely beach was replaced by a day session which
lasted until well into the next day - all punctuated by torrential
downpours. In fact there was 60mm of rain in 24hrs which caused
powercuts, phone outages and a whole lot of beer consumption. We
visited the internationally famous (abbr to infamous I'm sure)
Sailor's Club which had been a popular haunt for American servicemen
during the war. Now it as an extremely chic and hugely expensive bar
filled with beautiful if inebriated clientèle.

The other thing that sticks out is, the next day, our visit to the mud
spa. I awoke feeling surprisingly spry and hopped into the minibus
headed to a pampering spot. We drove out of the city centre and into
this horrid ghetto -I was beginning to think if Chinh was taking us to
a spa with hidden extras -before we popped out into this amazing
luxury retreat complete with botanical gardens and landscaping aplenty.

For the next 4 hrs, we sat cleansing mud, got blasted by hot mineral
water, were pummelled by a mineral waterfall and enjoyed all manner
of other experiences which left me feeling like a million dollars. In
fact I can't remember the last time I had felt so darned healthy. Matt
(Mel's bf) had got involved with some locals the previous evening and
after the 3 goldfish sized buckets we had drunk, he had challenged
them to a red wine competition. He may have won the battle but the
next day, he was well and truly losing the war and I'm not sure quite
what he remembers from the spa but it wasn't a pretty time for him!

We left a very wet Nha Trang and got the bus back to Da Nang before
reboarding the train bound for Ho Chi Minh City - the final
installment of the Vietnamese adventure. Time seemed to be rushing by!

Saigon here we come