That evening the locals had begun preparations for the impending storm, hatches were being battened, trees were being tied down, electricity was being turned off and everything including the garden sink was being taken inside.

We were on the hunt for a travel agent in order to book tickets for our continued journey to Hanoi. What started with a €15, 18 hour train from hell for the next day ended with a €56, 1 hour flight in 2 days time. By the time we left the booking office we had arrange the entirety of the remainder of our trip in Vietnam. Trains were booked, flights were arranged, boats were chartered, hotels were reserved and guides were gathered. Life for the next week was sorted so we retired to Cafe 43, and settled in for the night.

By 10pm it was time to leave, having consumed a dollars worth of beer we decided on a walk around town before heading to the hotel, it was dark, raining and a little breezy to say the least but we had ponchos and were light of step. After 15 minutes and in an unfamiliar part of town the electricity went and in the pitch black we half walked, half waded back to the hotel. It wasn't long before we were fast asleep, over the next few hours the typoons eye had made its way towards us at 102 km/hour and it's gaze was firmly fixed on Hoi An. We were simultaneously woken by the eerie sounds of a wailing typhoon and the crashing of tiles against the side of the hotel, just outside our large by now violently shuddering window the splutter and splash of debris crashing into the swimming pool was getting louder. At 3am the inevitable happened a rouge tile or two hit a large panel in our window, it leaped into the room with some force and smashed into the ground shattering on impact, the curtain duly took its turn, it flapped and flustered violently in the air like a washing line hung bed sheet on a blustery day. In seconds we were up rescuing our bags from beneath the newly formed hole in the wall and into the relative safety of the windowless bathroom.

Opening the bedroom door created a vacuum that sucked the curtains further into the room towards the ceiling as a dull roar swept passed us into the hallway. Entering reception we were greeted by the loud shaking of the entrance doors rattling the padlocks and chains that were struggling to keep them closed. Staff were running here and there rescuing crockery from the restaurant and frantically nailing down anything that was likely to be taken by the typhoon only to return moments later as a battering ram. We were thrown a new room key and relocated to the 4th floor, the room that awaited us was double aspect with one unsecured window on the south side and one with a 2 inch gab facing eastwards smiling at the typhoon. The room was partially flooded but the bed was dry, we turned on the air con, drew the curtains and settled into bed. Sleep was intermittent at best, we lay their half awake half dreaming listening to the deafening roar of Mother Nature, she was angry tonight and see made us feel very very small.