Last night I had trouble getting to sleep in the train, partly due to the novelty, but primarily worried about waking at the right time and not missing our stop! I needn’t have worried, the conductor made quite a show of opening the compartment door and letting me know that Nha Trang was the next stop.
Hustle and bustle at the station, even at 5.40 am, we stepped outside and had to run the gauntlet of cyclos, taxi drivers and motorcycle riders, all busy touting themselves or their hotel — even though it is only ten minute’s walk from the station to just about anywhere. We sat ourselves down and had a coffee and very patiently tried to out-wait a tenacious motorcyclist who finally left only after I had profusely thanked him, taken his name, pocketed his hotel’s card and started to make our way on foot!
En route to the hotel we missed a corner and became hijacked by two other motorcycle riders who were determined to take us to their hotel. Nothing we did would convince them to leave us alone and they doggedly followed us at a walking pace back around the block, guiding us towards the hotel we were looking for, but then nearly confusing us and leading us into the one next door!
One hotel or the other, it really didn’t matter. They’re all much the same price, all offer much the same facilities. The only problem was that we felt slightly guilty, having promised the first pair of motorcyclists that we would visit their hotel.
Bicycle on Nha Trang beach
A cold lemon juice, a shower, feeling much cleaner and refreshed. Off for a walk to the beach. There it is, the South China Sea, what a romantic story-book sounding name! The beach was almost deserted, a bicycle standing up in the sand as its owner swam about in the surf. Checking the time we found that it was hardly surprising that the beach was deserted — it was still only around nine in the morning, but already becoming quite hot on the beach in the sun!
Time to escape from the sun and head for the markets, then breakfast on a delicious bowl of wonton soup noodle soup. Into the markets and once again we were hijacked, this time by a woman who gave us the royal tour before dragging us off two streets away to her shop to try and sell us tailor-made clothes — I wasn’t interested but Jo was, a fatal display of interest that resulted in a great deal of perusing of catalogues and fabrics, many measurements with the tape measure, detailed instructions being recorded in a tiny notebook, and a promise that the suit would be delivered at five o’clock this evening. We left exhausted, not sure if the price eventually arrived at was reasonable, arbitrary, or if the goods would turn up at all…
First sight of the Po Nagar Cham towers in Nha Trang
Off from their on foot towards the Po Nagar Cham towers — about 2km away, with no real idea of where they were or what they looked like. By now it was very hot, walking along the main road in the dust and the noise past all the motorbike shops and fish-net repairers. Stepped neatly over a bad fake US $100 note, just blowing along the footpath. Nearly picked it up but decided not to in case it was some sort of scam — the picture on it was laughable though!
As we crossed one of the bridges, suddenly we realised that the enormous great buildings sticking up out of the trees on the island in front of us was the towers. It was a case of “Oh, those towers….” Very striking, suddenly appearing up out of the mass of modern concrete. Cool and dark inside them too, a pleasant break from the sun!
Leaving the towers, we wanted to visit the Long Son Pagoda, unfortunately all the way back across town and just across the road from the train station where we’d started! It seemed even hotter, our pace even slower, and interrupted by a couple of pauses for cool drinks and to sit in the shade.
“Kim Phan Phat To” (the big buddha) Long San Pagoda, Nha Trang
The entrance to the pagoda grounds is the stomping ground of a horde of postcard-selling girls from the Buddhist school — collectively trying to flog off bundles of ten cards, at first for 50,000 dong, gradually working their way downwards. Incredibly persistent, and nearly impossible to get rid of. Only a few steps past them and we were met by a “monk who almost grabbed us in his zeal to escort us up the stairs in his snaggle-toothed way up to the 18m reclining buddha, the 152kg ceremonial bell, up to the big buddha — Kim Phan Phat To — at the top. All this performed with almost indecent haste and a minimal sentence or two at each point. He quickly shuffled us off down an alley of commemorative plaques, then pointed to a dinghy gap between the bricks and explained that it was the “donation box. I nearly laughed, despite thinking we were being set up for a mugging, pointed back at the buddha and the real donation box, and told him which donation box I’d be using! He hovered around us for a few more minutes before finally demanding 20,000 dong per head for his tour, then sneering at the smaller donation Jo offered, made a big show and tell of “monk must eat, plaintive looks, hand-eating motions, then stalked off back down the hill to look for more visitors.
Free at last, we had time for a more leisurely exploration on the way back down, past the beggars and stepping over and around the syringes and ampules littering the ground.
Mosaic and swastika at the Long Son pagoda, Nha Trang
Back at the base of the hill we discovered that the pagoda had opened after lunch, so ducked inside, saw a real monk who did not hassle us for money or donations, and had a good look around.
Five o’clock came and went as we sat around wanting to head out for dinner, but couldn’t because the suit hadn’t arrived. Three quarters of an hour passed and I amused myself reading brochures for nearby tourist attractions, including the following for some mud baths:
Soaking hot mineral water feels so cool even it is hotly!!!?
Indeed, benefits of mineral materials in the spring and mud
will be out the pore, excreting body's sweat activated, and
reducing temperature of skin surface afterward. You feel so
freshly even it is hotly.
Finally a motorbike rode up, the suit was delivered and it was fairly obvious that the pants were simply taken straight off the rack, being nothing like the earlier description, style, or measurements! At least the jacket was what was intended. Another quarter of an hour sitting around while the woman went back to her shop to get — perhaps to make — the right ones.
Then off to book tomorrow’s boat trip and a train onwards to Da Nang — a stroke of luck for once, after first being charged $20 for “hard sleeper bunks and only getting them reduced to $18, I got an extra $10 in change back — a pleasant change from being gouged and short-changed by everyone we meet!
Down along the beach to the Sailing Club — but only for a beer. Picture postcard perfect scenery — almost a cliché with its romantic ambiance. Sunset, palm trees, waves on the beach, South China sea. Food and drink prices were as high as Melbourne, so it was off on foot around the block, there we found the Cyclo Café and had a really tasty cheap meal of cuttle-fish (Mue) and fish (ca). Then stroll back to the hotel, dodging the prostitutes, touts and myriad of motorbikes.
