Sitting – Hoi An, Vietnam

“Most of my treasured memories of travel are recollections of sitting.”
– Robert Thomas Allen

An early morning walking tour of Hoi An led us round the old town and gave an overview of some of the older sights of the town. The most interesting was a Japanese bridge, leading to a surprisingly French Riviera looking quayside filled with small fishing boats and terrace restaurants. Whilst the others enjoyed the dubious delights of a museum of ancient family life I took our Vietnamese guide to one of the coffee shops and tried to learn a little about more recent history.

The girls had to go for the first round of fittings for their tailored clothes so I wandered round town trying to find somewhere we could reconvene for an easy light lunch. Eventually noticed a nondescript but modern looking restaurant called White Marble, positioned at a central junction in the old town. It was empty but I thought I’d chance it anyway as the menu looked appetising. Being empty I got the prime corner seat looking out over the junction and ordered a selection of dishes to share. Over the next hours the girls wandered past and in and out to graze between fittings. The antipasti was delicious and ended with a simple but much needed cheese board.

The corner seat afforded us a view of the two main streets and the daily life going on within. Highlights included:

• Random friends appearing and dropping in for a chat and glass of wine.
• Seeing an English tour group go past and spotting the obvious nutter within and the distaste with which the others regarded him.
• Two ice-cream haired American septuagenarian ladies looking very surprised in a cyclo. Could have been the erratic driving, the poor state of the streets, or simply a bad face lift.
• Santa Claus roaring past on the back of a motorbike. When he spotted me he broke into a broad grin and started waving wildly.
• Terri screeching to a halt outside and demanding a quick photo whilst on the back of a scooter being ferried to the bank by an eager tailor.
• Denise returning from a fitting looking sheepish having accidentally bought even more clothing.
• Jennifer finally appearing from bed with an appalling hangover, seeing the food and heading straight to the bathroom again.
• Japanese tourists photographing everything in sight, including a pile of builders sand.
• English tourists arguing with each other under their breaths.
• German tourists arguing with each other loudly.
• American tourists just dressed loudly and flaunting every social convention in Vietnam, such as wearing shorts above the knee, having bare shoulders and agressively shoving cameras into elderly ladies faces.
• Italian tourists dressed in better clothes than the local tailors could ever knock up.
• Three hours later, just as the girls all made it back, the same random friends wandered past again and came in for another bottle of wine. Suddenly Santa roared up again, ran into the bar, greeted me like an old friend and posed for photos, much to everyone’s bemusement.

I eventually wandered back to the hotel alone, with the intention of going for a bike ride to the beach and a swim. As soon as I got into the room the lack of sleep over the last few days caught up and I messed about on the Internet for a couple of hours instead to catch up on correspondence and blogs.

That evening I’d booked another cookery course which was useful as the girls were still running between tailors trying to get those last minute changes made. Unlike the cookery course in Laos this was definitely not gourmet but just as much fun. A couple of hours cooking resulted in a decent meal for 8 people, and with much easier to source ingredients. We made vegetable spring rolls, chicken salad, prawn wontons and a mackerel baked in banana leaves. Apparently it was so good I forgot to take a picture…

A couple of guys on the course invited me out for drinks but having been yawning all day and with an early start the next day I wearily set off on the walk back to the hotel. On the way I chanced upon a Vietnamese nativity show which seemed to have been converted to a rock opera. The Wise Men turned up on camels made from poorly disguised mopeds and sang loudly at the baby Jesus in his manger, surrounded by neon water buffalo.

As the local English language paper headline stated on the flight from Laos: “Welcome to Vietnam, where they vigourously celebrate the most godless Christmas on earth.”

Hopefully related posts:

Hoi An isn’t just an anagram of Hanoi – Hoi An, Vietnam Vietnam 2 – Thailand 1 – Ho Chi Minh City, Vietnam Gutter life – Hanoi, Vietnam Digging – Chau Doc, Vietnam