Hoi An, Vietnam

After a relatively uneventful four-hour bus ride, we arrived in Hoi An in the evening. Though we had some time to explore that night, the distance of our hotel from the city combined with our lack of knowledge about the city's layout made for some fun but aimless wandering that evening, until we decided to retreat back to the hotel for a fresh start the next morning.

When we awoke, we ventured into town again. Hoi An is a city famous for, among other things, it's abundance of tailors that handmake clothes for very cheap prices. With this in mind, we made the tailor shop one of our first stops, so we could be measured and pick out the patterns of some of the clothes we were having made. For the next couple of days, our routine would consist of stopping by the tailor in the morning to check on the progress and quality (or sometimes lack there of) of our clothes. Though its no Neeman Marcus, Thao Nguyen Grassland, our tailor shop made some clothes that we were pretty happy with, especially for the inexpensive prices paid. While our interactions with the tailors took up between 30-60 minutes each morning, we spent the rest of our time during the days exploring Hoi An and its surroundings.

Jessica and our giggly tailors. They were very nice, despite a discrepancy over a "10% dicount" they promised us if we bought more clothes from them. (They later claimed they had taken the 10% off long ago--news to us.)

A typical street in Hoi An. This city reminded us a lot of Luang Prabang.

On the afternoon of our second day in town, we rented bicycles and took a ten mile ride, which on bikes with no gears and in the 100º heat was no easy task, and so we booked it eastwards towards the beach and the comforts of the cooler marine air. The beach was gorgeous and a much needed refuge from the heat of the city. Despite having the beach mainly to ourselves and some other tourists, around sunset seemingly every single inhabitant of Hoi An arrived at the beach, and the scene was so crowded that we lost site of the ocean entirely, even though our spot was only about 30 yards from the water! With this mass overcrowding and slightly cooler evening temperatures, we decided it was time to sneak back into the city and call it a night.

Though the beach was literally too crowded to take ocean view pictures by the time we had the camera out, this is a view of the area at which we spent the day, next to a small seafood restaruant.

Depsite escaping to the beach and checking out some distant attractions, we also spent a lot of time just wandering around the city, sampling its cuisine, and exploring its landmarks. Hoi An is a charming city full of old french colonial homes, converted into restaruants and tailor shops today. As a trading hub for centuries, Hoi An today is an interesting mix of French, Chinese, and Japanese influences.

The main bridge that crossed the Thu Bon river was about the center of town, and well adorned with decorations.

A paper lantern vendor in town

The Japanese bridge. In the 16th and 17th century, when Hoi An was an important port town (it's bisected by the Thu Bon River), this bridge led to the Japanese quarter of town.

On our last full day in the town, we headed out for the biggest adventure of our time in Hoi An. We decided to visit the 'Cham' ruins known as the My Son ruins (mee sun), about a 55-mile round-trip excursion. After the brutal experience biking just 10 miles to the beach the day before, peddle bikes were out of the question. We mounted up on a couple of Honda scooters, and made our way out of the city and towards the jungle to see the ruins. Though we had a rough hand-drawn map of how to get there, the trip took about three times as long as it should have on the way there, as we had to stop and ask just about every person that we came across if we were still going the right way. This consisted of us pulling our bikes over to every unsuspecting bystander and farmer we passed, pointing up the road in the direction we were traveling, and posing the question "My Son?" over and over again. Eventually, we arrived....

Just as we pulled into the parking lot, some of the darkest storm clouds we have ever seen blew overhead, instantly blocking out the sunlight, turning the 100º sunny dark and blustery. As we were about to enter the jungle to see some centuries-old ruins, this ominous weather felt strangely appropriate and intriguing, and thankfully scared away all the of the other visitors, leaving the ruins to empty. After about a half an hour of clouds, lightining, and wind, the skies finally opened, drenching us with monsoon rains that instantly flooded the ruins. However, being armed with 50-cent rain ponchos and the spirit of adventure, we spent a great afternoon running from ruin to ruin to dodge the rain and wind.

Despite how fun the storm made the afternoon at the ruins, it made for a highly stressful 25+ mile journey home that evening...

50 cent plastic ponchos: Check.

Thumbs up: Check.

The Cham ruled southern Vietnam from as early as 200 AD - the mid 1600s, when it finally fell to the  Khmer (builders of Angkor Wat) and the Vietnamese. In its height, the Cham was an great empire, with the My Son ruins acting as impressive tangible evidence of its might.

The monsoon rain water flooded the ruins instantly

 

After the rain refused to stop after a couple of hours, we realized the trek home would be a wet one.

After making it home alive and calling it a night, Jessica and I had one last day in Hoi An before our bus picked us up the following evening to take us to Nha Trang. We spent the time doing final checks on our clothes from the tailors, and taking in all the sites and sound of the city on last time. Though ready to move on, Hoi An is a city we both enjoyed and will miss!