Our day started with a taxi to the HCMC airport - we arrived far before our flight time, aware of it's frequent one-star reviews for shockingly slow service. To our surprise, it all went seamlessly, and soon enough we touched down in Da Nang.
Our hotel had arranged a driver to come and pick us up, it was going to be a 45 minute journey and the £13 (400,000 VND) we'd been charged seemed to be a reasonable price to pay for the convenience. Everything was going to plan until our van was stopped by the police. I don't know what really went on but our driver was in and out of the cab, grabbing different documents each time before finally grabbing a stack of cash from his wallet. I'd heard of corrupt police and the blatant bribing system in Vietnam, but it's another thing to see it in action. When things were over and done he told us it cost him 300,000 VND - a hefty amount, almost 10% of an average monthly wage.
Hoi An Ancient Town - or at least the side of the river we stayed on, was a completely different beast night and day. When we first arrived around 11am it seemed like a ghost town. It was hard to find somewhere to eat for an early lunch as all of the restaurants were empty, and an empty restaurant always seems suspicious to us. By the time we'd eaten, people had started trickling in. It still wasn't busy on our side of the river but the centre of the ancient town was a whole different matter.
I don't know when they arrived but the whole area was packed. Never ending streams of tour goers followed after their stick-waving guides. A team of rickshaws cycled round and round the lanes, verbally beeping to get the crowds to split. People dressed in newly purchased finery posed for photos in front of the picturesque ancient yellow houses. The cry of "happy hour" filled the air as bars, tailors and cobblers a-like tried to entice patrons inside. Nestled in between the wood built houses, shops and cafes were temples large and small. It was slightly overwhelming.
Alongside it's UNESCO status from being a well-preserved 15th to 19th century trading port, Hoi An is the world's tailoring capital. The basic shops seem to sell all the same thing; floaty trousers, faux silk dresses, the usual "holiday" attire. The midrange tailors will make whatever you ask from a fabric they think would work best, and the best shops have rows and rows of expensive fabrics for you to choose from too. I ended up with a pair of trousers from a basic shop, just off the rack, nothing fancy - another family we kept seeing apparently decided on matching banana print outfits, a bold choice I couldn't help but admire.
In the evening - like every evening - the river filled with boats lit up in vibrant colours. Originally lanterns were hung on the doors of Chinese and Japanese immigrants, as a reminder of their homelands and to try and bring them luck. Now these lanterns line the streets, lighting up restaurants and decorating shop fronts. Flame lit lanterns in the shape of lotus flowers were once floated on the rivers by locals at night as a wish for peace. Somewhere along the way, these ideas have been combined and turned into a marketable tourist experience with people queueing up for ride on a lantern boat, and crowds watching from the river banks. It was mesmerising, the river filled with bobbing lights of different hues, their light reflecting off the inky black surface of the river.
We also explored Hoi An's "craft market". If "craft" has changed meaning to: mass marketed tourist tat, then this was a wonderful craft market. I don't understand how anyone there makes any money, as we walked down the edge of the market - ignoring the ever present shout of "Happy hour" - we noticed that every stall was the same. Their wares were so uniform that I can't even remember what they sold. The only vendor of interest (to mum at least) was the street food stall that seemed to only sell BBQ lobster. As we had a cooking school arranged for the next day, we thought it might be a little chancy and decided to give it a miss.
We got lost on the way to the cooking school meeting point. Fifteen minutes of brisk walking turned into twenty before I realised we'd gone far to far. By the time we'd backtracked we were late, thankfully, we weren't the last to arrive so I didn't feel as bad. There are quite a few cooking schools in Hoi An, all with their unique draws. I went with Red Bridge Cooking school for a few reasons; it was remarkably well rated, it incorporated a boat ride and we were allowed to use their swimming pool once the class was over.
Once we had all arrived we were divided into two groups and we headed off to the market. I don’t know if it was just to amuse himself or if he was genuinely a maniac, but our guide (who also happened to be the head chef at red bridge cooking school) would shove produce literally into our noses any chance he got. I understand a causal sniff to enjoy the subtle aroma’s of vietnams favourite herbs, but did everyone need to be slapped with the coriander bundle one after another!? Once we entered the “wet” side of the market, thankfully he gave up on this game and we could all stop flinching away.
Following the meat section - which was coincidentally the most fly free wet market I’ve seen during my travels - we came to the portion of the tour that I liked the least; the obligatory sales pitch. This seems to happen in some aspect no matter what sort of itinerary you choose. This time, we heard about the benefits of this special type of coffee filter, it's needed for the Vietnamese coffee you'll buy, you need some of these local spices, you’ll need something to eat with, these chopsticks are great… You get the gist. I think we’re just disillusioned, having been tricked into shops so many times before. More than that, being so far from home with heavy enough bags there was nothing special enough to add to that load. Despite our reluctance, everyone else seemed to enjoy, making a few purchases before we were on our way.
We zoomed through the fish section of the market and before we knew it, it was time for our boat ride to the cookery school. The journey took about 20 minutes, traveling from the picturesque Hoi An Ancient town, passing by new and developing neighbourhoods, before finally travelling down a narrower offshoot with nothing but reeds on either side. Once we had all disembarked, we sat down for a complimentary cold drink before heading into the kitchen to learn some new skills.
The premise was straightforward: we sat in two rows observing the chef make the dish (we had a recipe booklet to make notes if needed), then we would move to our own work stations and attempt to recreate it ourselves. Fortunately, we weren’t entirely left to our own devices; assistants came round to say if it was time to move on to the next step, or if we completely messed up making rice paper and it was destined to become noodles instead. As soon as we were done making each dish we got to eat it - I don't want to sound too up myself but I genuinely enjoyed everything I made. Not having eaten many of these Hoi An specialities before, I could have been doing a terrible job in terms of authenticity but whoever is going to know.
Cooking completed we headed to the dining room, the chef had made for a few extra dishes just for us: a wagyu beef dish for most, and fish for the pescatarians. Alongside, there was a papaya salad and an selection of fresh fruit, just in case the rest of the food wasn't enough. It's unclear whether these dishes were previously attempted so horribly by the participants, causing the chef to abandon trying to teach them, or if there simply wasn't enough time. The latter is probably unlikely as we spend at least twenty minutes trying out some vegetable decorating techniques. The rest of our class opted for the complimentary bus back into town rather than to stay and enjoy the pool. Given the scorching weather and the small pool back at our hotel, we decided to have to unwind in their scenic garden and spend an hour cooling down.
The next day, working off a recommendation, we headed to “Madam Khanh - The banh mi queen” for breakfast. They had a good selection of meat and vegetarian options, but it wasn’t the best banh mi I’d had so far. I think it was the bread, the baguette we had in Hoi Chi Minh had a crusty almost fried quality to it, where this was softer and more bready - for a lack of a better description. It was still delicious, but it wasn’t my favourite style.
Making the most of Hoi An’s quiet morning streets, we took the opportunity to take some photos of the architecture, in-between checking out some of the buddhist temples dotted around. As the sun got higher in the sky, the first of the shoppers arrived and the rickshaws started their ever-constant circling and mouth-beeping, we hopped in a taxi and headed to the beach. I don’t think I could appreciate how intense the town was until we reached the quiet, comparatively empty beach.
There was still people wanting out attention, asking us to sit on their sun loungers or to buy their fans - but they seemed a lot quicker to accept a “No, thank you” and move on with their day. After a short walk along the bright white sands, we found a place that would rent us their loungers if we brought a drink - as we were thirsty this seemed like a pretty good deal. We stayed all afternoon, laying on our loungers reading, cooling down in the crystal clear waters when ever we got hot, not being bothered at all. Once we got hungry we headed up some rather rusted stairs and ate in the attached restaurant, prawns and spring rolls for me and Ben, crab for mum - all at a surprisingly reasonable price. Eventually it was time to leave the cool sea breeze behind and exchange it for the humidity of the town. It was our last night in Hoi An and we had a Lantern Boat ride to enjoy.
Trip : May 2024
Previous Blog : Ho Chi Minh City
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