Part 73: No more busses....
Everything about the Mojzo hostel was pretty much perfect, and to say it was friendly would be stating the obvious. Simple things like being called by your name by all, and I mean all the staff there was a lovely touch. The girls here would fuss over you, like make sure you have inspect repellent on or adequate sun protection. I only wish me and Jack actually listened to them about that though. We both fell asleep on the beach forgetting to put any on, and subsequently burned; really badly, especially my feet!!
They would constantly remind you to be weary of pick pockets, or bag snatchers too, just as you were getting ready to go out.
The almost utopian friendly nature seemed to rub off on all the backpackers, because there were none of the cliques that occasionally develop at some hostels; everyone here greeted each other, mingling freely.
An English girl in our dorm named Rosie introduced herself to us soon as she recognised our accents, and it turned out that she worked for a studio building props for the new Starwars movie back home in the UK.
Well now being the sci-fi geek that I am, I was trying to get any information about the plot from her, to which of course she was sworn to secrecy; but it didn't stop me from trying anyway.
There were so many of my favourite films she had worked on, including the Avengers, meeting several of the actors too! Talk about the perfect job - although she was quick to point out it was long hours and really hard work!
Wether or not it was purely coincidental, there were just so many interesting people here, and the type you don't meet every day.
Another one of the positives was the roof top breakfast terrace, with fantastic panoramic views over looking the mountains.
As breakfasts go, these were the very best I'd had at a hostel with everything from poached eggs, and muesli to waffles and fresh fruit. All of which was included in the price for the accommodation. This really was the perfect way to get the long bus journeys out of your system.
We were in pure relax mode, and not really that up for any sightseeing as such, instead enjoying everything in close proximity, like the beach, bars and restaurants.
I could quite happily have relaxed here soaking up the sun and vistas, especially since Nha Trang was surrounded by mountains and a large island in the ocean directly in front of the city's main area, making for plenty of amazing scenery.
But the friendly guests and hostel staff were in complete contrast to the majority of the Russian tourists around the resort who would barely muster eye contact let alone a smile.
Since beginning travelling, my social skills have developed - almost beyond measure compared to what I used to be like back home, and I'm certain that it's the same for most backpackers too. But making conversation with Russians is extremely difficult; and it's not because of the language barrier either. I was curious and explored further as to why this was the case, discovering that a simple smile to them is considered rude.
Whilst most westerners view the smile as a normal facial expression, Russians treat it as something pretty special. They firmly believe you need a strong reason to raise the ends of your lips, because to them, a constant smile is viewed either as something fake and insincere, or as a sign of a simplistic mind. So it's basically cultural differences. However I do believe that they should be also mindful of what a smile means in other countries, not just their own, particularly in Asia. And they rarely answer to people other than very good friends, unless they absolutely have to; so my opinion is somewhere in the middle on this, but it is hard work no question, and they don't make it easy for themselves at all.
Later that evening, and after one of the laziest days I had in a long time, several of the backpackers all arranged to go out to Nha Trangs most famous night spot - the 'why not' bar. Almost the entire hostel met there, and with drinks and cocktails being super cheap (especially the buckets) it was inevitable we would all get drunk. With a good mix of nationalities from Chilean, Australians, Swiss, German's, Americans, Indians, Brits and more; the conversation, much like the spirits were flowing freely.
We openly discussed language slangs, stereotypes, populist culture, fashion and even which nationalities made the worse tourists.
The more we drank the funnier it got with out ever getting out of hand.
We had a interesting debate about the differences between backpackers and tourists, especially since there is certainly no love lost between the two.
The more I've been away, the more I've thought about this and over time, have drawn up my own conclusions - especially since meeting plenty of both.
Now the typical backpackers consider themselves as independent, they go for the cultural experience, to meet the locals, and to immerse themselves in faraway lands. Or at least, that’s what they keep telling themselves; instead viewing tourists as 'non travellers' – those who go for the pictures and the hotel, but never the place.
The irony in this, is both stick out like a sore thumb, and can be equally annoying. Yet both claim superiority over the other.
Typically a backpacker is usually a young traveler on a long trip who sleeps in hostels, eats street food, lives cheap, parties and takes local transport. But above all, has very very little consideration for anyone else.
And a tourist, is usually defined by someone who stays in comfortable hotels, eats at nice restaurants take tourist buses, buy silly gifts, wears a huge camera around their necks and usually doesn't make much effort to blend in.
I've been away long enough now to know that in reality, there is actually very little difference between either of them.
Whatever it is that I consider myself to be is open to debate perhaps. But I guess I'm just a budget traveller with a few traits of both the backpacker and tourist.
The following day a few of us arranged to visit the Thap Ba hot mud springs - a 15 minute taxi ride from downtown Nha Trang.
We were told the baths were famous for their healing, and the therapeutic powers of its mud and mineral baths
Apparently curing ailments - which hopefully would include heavy hangovers too.
When we got there, luckily it wasn't to busy, particularly since this was popular with tourists, but within ten minutes of arriving, myself, Jack, and two of our fellow backpackers were sharing an open air wooden bath filled with warm mud.
Soon we were completely covered from head to toe in this mineral rich goo, that oddly enough, was really relaxing, and just sitting there up to our shoulders in mud, in a small cramped bath was a funny sight.
But 20 minutes in there was plenty, before being jet washed off with high pressure cold showers.
We then bathed in a makeshift mineral waterfall, before rounding off the afternoon laying by the pool.
This summed up Nha Trang perfectly for me, and since arriving here we set out only to relax and recover.
Yes admittedly there are plenty of historical monuments to visit, but its easy to see why some people don't venture too far beyond the sunny comfort of the beach. Nha Trang is the coastal jewel of Vietnam, with some of the best white sand, and turquoise waters that the country has to offer. And it's fair to say we fully took advantage of that.
But there is only so much blog one can write about 'chilling out' and after a marvellous few days, we were ready to continue south, fully refreshed and raring to go!
The day of our motor bike tour was now upon us, and I cant tell you how excited and relieved I was to be not travelling by bus for a change.
Our itinerary was fairly fluid, but we would be heading inland and up through the mountains for 3 days, then South East to the sand dunes of Mui Ne via the mountain town of De Lat.
This was definitely going to be a first for me, and when our vietnamese guides showed up early that morning looking more like 3 cowboys with 3 motor bikes, me Jack and Corina were buzzing.
They strapped our backpacks to the rear of the motorbikes, then gave us a briefing, before the last few final checks.
Snow and Tween were there too, fussing over us making sure we were safe like a pair of worrying moms as we set off on the back of the motorbikes furiously waving.
With the morning sun bearing down on us, we hit the road arms aloft, heading west out of Nha Trang. Our time at the Utopian hostel was at an end. No cramped busses, no bellowing horns, no uncomfortable seats - just the feel of the warm wind on my face.
It was thrilling, and my heart was pounding with anticipation of what would lay ahead on the road for us.
De Lat, here we come.....