We woke on the train approaching Hue, on the central Vietnam coast, just in time for the legendary Hue-to-DaNang stretch, said to be the most beautiful in the country.
The train cut across the steeply dropping mountainsides as they descended straight into the South China Sea, occasionally crossing high trestles where deep valleys cut into the range. On the trestles, we appeared to hang in mid-air while watching the waves crash onto the beaches below. Here and there, brightly colored wooden fishing boats lingered offshore, and clusters of round “basket-boats” laid nets closer in to the beach. It was gorgeous, and a nice introduction to the next phase of our trip.
We disembarked at Da Nang, and took a taxi the 45 minutes to Hoi An, where we planned to spend my birthday.
Hoi An is an historic town, relatively unscathed by the Vietnam War, and since listed as a World Heritage Site for its original wooden homes, shops and bridges and mix of French, Chinese and Japanese architecture.
It completely charmed us, and our plan to stay three nights extended to four and then five, before we finally pulled ourselves away. We loved wandering the narrow streets and exploring the shops and waterfront cafes.
At night, most shops would light lanterns, which added to the mesmerizing quality of the historic “old town.” One evening, we ate on the upper terrace of a small cafe with no menu, just the chef/owner's daily four course menu of fish, meat or vegetarian dishes – fantastic! On my birthday, we ate at the cluster of street stalls across from the river, where each picnic table was serviced by a different cook – we couldn't decide between them all, so would up eating twice at two of them. ;-) Our Singaporean bunkmate from our overnight train was in town too, and joined us for the celebration. On another day, I finally broke down and let one of the local tailors (the town is famed for them) fit me for a tailor-made dress – but just a simple linen dress, rather than one of the fancy silk numbers most travel here for.
The highlight of our visit was a day with the Red Bridge Cooking School, which started with a morning visit to the local market, followed by a ½ hour boat ride up the canals to the riverside cooking school (Colin got to steer the whole way – there and back),
and then the preparation and eating of five local dishes, including making our own rice paper for fresh spring rolls (!) and a fabulous eggplant clay pot dish that probably requires that I change all our cooking and eating paraphernalia when we get home. Our next destination after Hoi An was Mui Ne – a coastal fishing and bungalow/resort strip a few hours north of Ho Chi Min City. It was a long haul from Hoi An to Mui Ne, so we broke it up with an overnight stop in Nha Trang, in/famous party beach town.
The beaches were beautiful, but the snorkeling was a bit of a disappointment – very poor visibility and enough tiny jellyfish to set Colin's skin stinging and chase him out of the water. The boat trip out to the reef, though, was very scenic.
The next day, we boarded an open tour bus – the top line of comfort with comfy beds in place of seats! - a nice surprise given that we had about six hours on the road between Nha Trang and Mui Ne. The bus dropped us at the door of our “resort,” where we would stay through Christmas. 
We booked it sight unseen before leaving Seattle in September, and it turned out to be lovely! Individual little bungalows, a cabana-style bar/cafe with pool table, and a beautiful emerald-green pool just inside the gate leading to the beach.
The beach was even better, with talcum-powder white sand, bathtub-temperature water and basket-style fishing boats scattered in both directions, not to mention the beach-massage peddlers waiting to pamper you whenever the mood struck. They also did the most fascinating variation on “waxing” Ive ever seen – a piece of string and complex two-handed, double-dutch string dance and they could pull every last bit of hair off your legs... given enough time. I took advantage of the massage, but passed on the rest. ;-)
Christmas morning, we hid Colin's gifts – a Kindle (to try to keep him in books as we traveled) and envelopes containing mostly cash for various purposes from family back home – under the small Yule tree set in the tropical landscaped gardens outside of our bungalow. We munched on treats friends had sent from home (including a package of opened bubblegum for Colin – hmmm, wonder who that could have been from...?) and reveled in the weirdness of it all.
Then we hiked off to the “Fairy Stream,” which ran through red- and white-colored sand dunes and ended in a picture-perfect waterfall just right for a shower. On the way back, we scrambled up steps cut into the dunes for a cold drink at a small hut we spotted on our way in, and relaxed in the company of several coconut-eating chickens.
After a few days of lazy bliss, we boarded another bus for Ho Chi Min City, which dropped us in backpacker central, an easy half block from our guest house. Even crossing the street wasn't as bad as in Hanoi – there was actually a traffic light to (kinda) help! Id been warned that Ho Chi Min traffic was more “mental” than Hanoi, but the mere existence of traffic lights helps immensely in my book – maybe its just all in my head, but still...
To my surprise, Tom took to Hi Chi Min immediately. We had already decided to spend his last few days in the Mekong Delta, but he would have been content to explore the city for longer, I think. He went wandering off for a look around while I crashed exhausted in our room – buses always sap my energy. The next day, we were on another one, bound for My Tho, capital of the Mekong Delta. We had decided to go with a local bus this time, rather than book our visit through a tour company. Wow.
One taxi to the bus station, one shuttle bus to the other (aka “right”) bus station (that we should have gone to to start with), one bus to My Tho, and yet one more taxi to our hotel – simple enough, right? Wrong. The shuttle bus slowly filled until Tom, Colin and I were all shoved into sardine-sized spaces at opposite ends of the bus, legs wrapped around our bags with extra ones on our laps, when suddenly we were being shouted off the shuttle to board the bus for My Tho, which had appeared inexplicably at the side of the road instead of at the bus station, where everyone could have gotten off the shuttle and actually let us out. Since that didnt happen, we had to hand our bags out the window to waiting runners (but which way would they run with them??) and climb over the other passengers and bags to get to a door so we could follow after our bags and get to the bus.... OK, whew, we and most of our belongings made it – but I had to retrieve one bag from the seat of a motorcycle where the luggage “helper” had stashed it, and chase down the (same) guy wandering off wearing Colin's conical hat, which he had been painstakingly transporting since China. This bus too, was full to bursting, and had tinny speakers blaring a screechy comedy showing on the TV at the front, but the windows let in a nice breeze. It was fine (for me – but Colin and Tom weren't so thrilled) until we reached the outskirts of My Tho and we were once again ejected at the side of the road with no bus station in sight. This time, a gaggle of motos (motorcycles for hire) surrounded us, vying to transport us into town – child, luggage and all. Oh boy. Fortunately, one of them spotted a driver they knew spoke English and waved him over. He called us a taxi, gave us his card (he was a tour operator), and refused to take a tip for his help. Score. We'd use him for our day touring the delta.... Once safely settled in town, we learned we could have done the whole trip for less in a nice air-conditioned tour bus by catching a ride back with the day-trippers from Saigon. Grrrrrrr.
Our hotel was nearly empty, but we had a top floor room with a terrace overlooking the Mekong.
The river is wide and busy so far down the delta, with huge barges transporting cargo and dredgers harvesting the fine river bottom silt – quite a different operation from the farmers we'd seen scooping buckets of the stuff to load on their oxcarts in smaller towns. The farmers were harvesting nutrient-rich mud for their rice paddies; the dredgers were mining silt to make cement to support the ever-present construction that had awakened us nearly every morning we'd been in a Vietnamese city or mid-sized town.
My Tho itself wasn't much to speak of – reminded me strangely of Manaus, in the Brazilian Amazon -
but we had a great day arranged by our savior/tour operator touring the nearby islands by boat, paddling through the canals, visiting coconut candy workshops, playing with pythons, biking through the countryside, feasting on whole fried “elephant-ear” fish, and catching fireflies after dark. Nice.
After our cushy return to Ho Chi Min City, we explored the central market, stocked up on a few souvenirs, and had a nice dinner out before saying goodbye to Tom – he left for the airport about 8 p.m., and we left Ho Chi Min early the next morning for our journey up the Mekong River to Cambodia.....
Next up: Journey to Angkor Wat
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