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TRAVEL BLOG ENTRY
a travel blog entry
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“They attacked her feet with some cream and a cut throat razor” |
We arrived at Danang airport and jumped into a cab for our hotel. As it was my birthday, Lynds had booked us into a very swanky hotel. As soon as we emerged from our cab we were given soft cool flannels and fresh juice before we'd even checked in. The room was gorgeous as was the whole hotel complex. Now we had been warned that if you let it slip in Vietnam that its your birthday, they have a nasty habit of butchering something in your honour. So it was agreed that the balloons and back slapping would be postponed until all animals were safe. So it was a slight shock when we were following the porter to our room (He insisted on carrying all our bags!!), and the receptionist shouts across the foyer "happy birthday Mr John!" after spotting the date on my passport. We scuttled off to our room and hoped that would be that. But when the urge for liquid refreshment drove us to the bar, we were greeted by four smiley faces all wishing me happy birthday. We decided a venture out into the anonymity of town would be wise so we left. As I passed reception a porter said in broken English " when you come back we have gift for you". The evening passed with us both having a slight fear that our room would now be taking on the look of a slaughter house by well meaning hotel staff. Only the day previous we had seen a motorbike carrying a couple of hundered live ducks, no cage just tied feet and all staring straight ahead like an odd medusa type bike. These ducks may now be splattered around our room.
As it turned out our room contained nothing more bloody than a bouquet of freshcut flowers and a card.
We spent the next few days lounging and then went into the town to have a suit made for me. You go into a huge market where there are hundereds of women at their singer sewing machines and the walls are just rolls of fabric. A bunch of catalogues are thrust infront of you such as Next etc, and you choose the cut you want and then off to decide on the fabric. Then you are measured and the bartering begins. The whole experience was awesome. Lyndsay rolled her eyes as I sat there with 10 women scurrying around fetching this that and the other. I decided a new shirt was probably in order as well, and what the hell, I went to a shop next door and had some shoes hand made for me (they draw around your bare feet onto a piece of A4). Lynds then joined in the fun and had a couple of copies made of some linen trousers that were past their best. The total cost for all this extravegance........... .75 quid.
After I'd been in there a while Lynds disappeared off and I found her having a manicure from a couple of local ladies. Apparently they had spotted her rolling her eyes at me and decided that this woman needed some pampering quick. Then they attacked her feet with some cream and a cut throat razor while she had a massage from lady number two. Everything was lovely until I found out that Lynds in her wisdom hadn't agreed a price for any of this, which around these parts is the equivalent of writing a blank cheque. Needless to say it was cheaper to buy handmade shoes than have your feet scraped on this little journey, and so I took a picture of them all so if I return for more suits at some point I will remeber to give them a wide berth. I'm sure you can see an odd glint in their eye!!!!
We took a trip to a temple complex called My Son which was undiscovered for thousands of years but is now the earliest in tact Hindu temple site in the world. However, it was distinctly more intact until some B52's did some remodelling during the war.
The rest of the time in Hoi An was pretty much lounging, apart from nipping out to see an island where all the locals make furniture. The quality is amazing but a dining table and 6 chairs was asking much of an overladen back-pack. With batteries recharged we headed for Ho Chi Min City (Saigon).
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Joel_Mello says:
Very nice and well written. Thank you!