Last days in Quy Nhon 

Last night I had talked to the receptionist about my futile search of the Han Mac Tu grave. In a way I really wanted to see it now and it must be possible to find it.

Which I did easily today after the lengthy explanation the evening before. Because I had already passed it. Not just once but a couple of times actually. I was sitting across from it yesterday while having coffee and I just didn’t recognize it.

So since I knew where to go I went for breakfast first. What better way to start the day than with a delicious Pho.

It had been a good idea to eat before because again I had to push my bicycle. At least it was only a small hill. Soon I parked it and walked the rest of the way. If you find that the woman on top looks like Holy Mary, congratulations you are right. He was Catholic. I have noticed more and more Catholic churches the further south I go. So this was not something that should astonish me, but it did. Han Mac Tu died at the age of 28 of lepra by the way. I couldn’t tell you any of his poems, but they are still taught in schools in Vietnam today.


From the grave I took the longer route back to the bicycle to discover the rest of the small hill. It had a great view over the beach, a small temple and a Catholic church. Except for the view no picture is worth posting here though.

Once I returned down to the crossing, I went for an ice coffee to the little coffee shop. Today I had the place to myself. My bicycle was parked as usual right outside.

  

Since it was again overcast and grey I went back to the hotel and decided to have a pedicure at the place I saw on the first evening.


No one spoke English and I still didn’t speak Vietnamese, but we could communicate easily and when I was done I walked out with baby smooth soles and red toe nails.

While I was worked on another woman came in who got her hair done. She spoke a bit of English and asked me if I wanted to eat curry. She had a small curry shop up at the mall.  Always open to new suggestions I followed her on the bike and ended up at her place. The fish curry I tried was very tasty.


Since I was already in the mall I thought I would get some snacks for my train ride tomorrow. The supermarket was on the second level and I explored every aisle. It’s always so interesting to see what products other countries have. It took me the better part of an hour to do that and when I ended up at the cash register on the third level I noticed that there was also a movie center in the building. I thought it wouldn’t hurt to check if there were any English movies and surprise, surprise they showed ‘Jurassic World’. I bought my ticket and had two wonderful entertaining hours.

For dinner I cycled to a restaurant close to my hotel. The Alaca had mostly ‘hot pot‘ but also other things. So I tried the grilled octopus with special sauce. Special meant only extra spicy. I could breath fire after, the octopus was grilled to perfection though.  The next day was already my last one. In the early evening I had to take the night train to HCMC (=Saigon). I spent a lazy morning in bed, posting a bit and also watching another episode of GoT. Around noon I checked out and took the bicycle once more. A last coffee at my favorite place, followed by a sugar cane juice at the beach. 

One last dip in the sea, and a short stay in front of the Seagull hotel as the only tourist on the sun bed, I read my book a bit more and then it was time to go. At the Hai Huong Hotel I could have a shower and wash my hair before leaving. So prepared I was ready for the train ride and HCMC. Yours, Pollybert

 

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Traveling South

My next destination was a small beach town call Quy Nhon. I had heard about it while visiting Sa Pa from a fellow traveler who also wanted just to relax without masses of tourists.

When I woke up that morning I noticed that the electricity was down and later heard that the government shut it down for the day in Hoi An. It didn’t really matter to the people though, life still went on as before.

I took the bicycle and went to the old town, sat down for coffee next to the Japanese covered Bridge with a view on the river. It had something magical to sit on one of the small plastic chairs and watch the locals going about their business. They meet for coffee before going their separate ways to work. It’s something I do at home too but not often enough. The day starts so much better when you see your friends first thing in the morning.

Back at the Homestay I finished packing and around 11 my shuttle came to bring me to the train station. The shuttle turned out to be a private car and we picked up only one more passenger along the way.

This was a woman who needed to go to the airport and while we couldn’t communicate she was super friendly and always touching my hands and my arms. Not in a weird way, more like letting me know that she appreciated my ‘Xin chao’ (hello).

At the train station the usual hustle and bustle awaited me and with only an hour delay I boarded the train. I had booked just a seat since the journey would take about 5 hours, so there was no need for a bed.

The wagon was full of Vietnamese, including a large group of high school teachers who traveled to HCMC (=Saigon). Again I had to find out that the English teacher was not able to communicate (at the Farmstay one of the receptionists was an English teacher and we talked a lot for her to practice; was a slow going I can tell you. But it reminded me of my high school teacher who couldn’t speak and had an appalling pronunciation). Nonetheless with the help of the English teacher I could tell the chemistry teacher what to do with his iPhone. Everyone was lovely, they offered me some lunch and later helped me get off the train. The little blue chair was used by their tour guide. And the man in front with the jeans shorts and I had a good chuckle when someone behind me was snoring so loud that the wagon fell silent.

Once I arrived in Quy Nhon I took a taxi to the Hai Huong Hotel. The first thing I learned about non tourist places was that everything closed early. So after checking in and having a shower I rushed downstairs to ask at reception where I could still get dinner.

I walked a couple of blocks, saw a beauty salon on the way (which I kept in mind) and came to a bigger street leading to the beach. There I saw a small place that looked inviting and had one Western looking guest inside.

Since tourists were rare I asked if I could join him. Hans from Munich was a fountain of information due to his travels in South East Asia the last couple of years.

After an interesting dinner, a duck soup which included all the bones (the duck was cut in small pieces and then cooked; no de-boning here), and a shared pitcher  I called it a day and went back to my home for the next four nights. Yours, Pollybert