Nha Trang, Day 2

Day 2

Scott and I had an extremely early wake-call. We had to meet Bac Di at his house at 6:30 am. Once there, we followed him to the pier where we would dock the boat to go spearfishing. On the way, we stopped to buy some banh mi, or barbeque pork sandwiches, to go. At the boats, we met up with three other men. One was a mechanic and responsible for driving the boat. The two others were spearfisherman by hobby. One man was older, wore glasses, and had a mustache. He was a pun master; he liked making jokes by playing on words. The other person was a young 19-year-old man who used to work at a scuba shop before he quit because the owner was not paying him fair wages. Bac Di was a retired cop from Orange County, and an avid spearfisherman. Scott and I felt like we were on some sort of black op mission, and we were with the best guys out there. 

We piled onto a small speedboat and made our way out to the islands dotting the coast of Nha Trang. During this time, we had our breakfast sandwiches, and they were so delicious. The baguette bread was extremely crunchy, the pork was perfectly marinated, and we could have eaten 2 more. The islands we boated to during breakfast were made mostly of stone jutting out from the water. Surrounding the perimeter of the islands were small huts with a red flag and which housed a guard. If you got too close, you would be shot at. These guards protected the coveted and lucrative swallow’s nest. The saliva of the swallow binds the nest together, and it is the saliva that is harvested as a delicacy. The company that runs this is extremely powerful, and soon, most of the island’s coast will be private property, sad news for spearfishermen like Bac Di.

Heading out to sea

The deadly guard shacks

We made our first stop, and all the fishermen geared up to get in the water. They put on wetsuits, snorkels, flippers, and loaded their spear guns. One by one they jumped into the water in search for our lunch. Scott and I stayed on board with “The Mechanic,” or the boat driver. We waited in anticipation as the sun beat down on our bodies and the slight lull of the small boat started to make us feel sick. Just as we were about to be let off on some nearby rocks to beat the seasickness, “The Pun Master,” waved his spear in the air. He climbed aboard and hooked to his belt was a freshly speared rabbit fish. Its silvery skin was still shining, and its face looked like a rabbit’s. We picked up Bac Di, and Win, the youngest. Bac Di also had a fish strapped to his belt. The Mechanic dropped the men off at another fishing spot, and dropped Scott and me off at a small, floating lobster farm.
 

Bac Di and Audrey

That looks sharp

The hunter

Heading into battle (with fish)

Success!

In the middle of the farm was a small wooden house with one large living space inside. Surrounding the farm was water and gridded plank walkways. It looked like a checkerboard, but instead of black and white squares, they were all blue, looking straight down into the ocean. We pulled in, and five miniature black dogs ran out to greet us. They looked like soldiers, all standing guard and at attention. They sniffed us to make sure that we were part of the good guys. The farm swayed a little as the weak current pushed it to and fro. I had a bit of a perpetual stomach ache since we left Rach Gia, and it was acting up again. Scott saw the bathroom and says, “You don’t want to go there.” But in a time of need, you do what you gotta do. I walked the plank to the bathroom, which was a small rectangular, plastic box that went up to my waist. I opened the door, which was attached to a small stick with a plastic fishing string. The toilet was a hole through the wooden planks that opened straight into the ocean. You can guess what the newspaper was for. Let’s just say that it was a success and compared to other squat toilets, quite pleasant.

Shrimp fisherman (lookouts standing in the front)

Beautiful view from the shrimp farm

Our welcoming party to the floating house

Dogs in floating villages are hungry too

What a life

Floating village bathroom experience!

Plain and simple toilet

 Scott and I explored the farm and walked from plank to plank, always in straight lines. We watched the dogs do the same, maneuvering through the farm with ease and comfort. The entire farm had a strange smell to it; it was somewhat fishy, but not quite. I would have to say that it was “shrimpy.” After 15 minutes, The Mechanic came back with the rest of the crew and picked us up. Our next stop was a smaller floating fishing farm where we would cook our lunch. The boat maneuvered through the floating fishing village, and Scott and I admired its charm and beauty. The people who lived here worked hard for a full year to raise lobster to sell to the eating communities. Lobster in Vietnam is very expensive; double to triple the price in the States. However, raising lobster is no guarantee because they can easily die, and one small mistake can put a year’s work and living at jeopardy. Bac Di told us that, recently, at another village, one farmer poured some chemical into the water, and it killed all the lobster being raised in that entire village. Life in Vietnam can be very difficult, even if you work hard. 

Walking the planks

Audrey checking out the shrimp

While waiting for lunch, Scott and I jumped off the side of the floating house and swam to a nearby island. I got stung by some jellyfish on the way, which was not enjoyable. We played around for a while until we were called back for lunch. I piggyback swam on Scott’s back to avoid anymore stings. Scott was my shield. Everything was set up on the floor for us: bowls, chopsticks, drinks, and food. I looked to the side, and the fish was grilled on a small barbeque, the size of a coffee pot. Bac Di’s wife had prepared some food for us, so we had fresh salad and grilled pork chops. Each of the fish caught was slowly brought out and cooked in different styles. First, we enjoyed grilled rabbit fish. The meat was white and tender. Next, we had stewed fish. Finally, we had fried fish. All the while, the men (including Scott) drank rice wine. This alcoholic beverage is sipped from tiny shot glasses, and to me, it does not taste good. It burns more than vodka. The men drink this, one glass after another throughout the entire meal. A black dog came and sat next to me, eyeing my food the entire time. I fed him my left over bones. Even dogs in Vietnam have iron stomachs. Koby would never be able to get seasoned ribs without getting a stomach ache. The owner of the floating house was a tanned old man, whose smiled reminded me of Tien’s mom’s. He had crinkles at the corner of his eyes and a very kind face. He asked me to call him “Uncle”.

Floating village #2

Rugged and beautiful

Audrey getting artsy

More Vietnamese hospitality

After Scott and I could not possibly eat anymore, we asked if we could take the circular bamboo boat out for a spin. They explained to us that the boat was difficult to steer, so Win, the youngest, went out to get the boat. Next thing we know, he is sitting in the boat, stirring the water to and fro in a very peculiar manner. We get on, and it was so wobbly. Circular boats do not balance well. We each sat equidistant to each other on the perimeter and rowed around the house. Win taught Scott, who caught on well. All the men then asked us if we wanted to eat some squid. The owner of the house seemed eager to share, so Scott and I agreed. Before we knew it, they had caught a gigantic squid! I had never seen one so big. They let me hold it, and take pictures to pretend that I caught it. I would love to take credit, but I can’t. The squid was orange, and its sides were squirming and rippling. It shot water out of its mouth about 3 feet and scared me half to death. The Uncle cut off the tentacles, gutted the squid, pulled out the ink sac, and offered it to us to eat raw. We hesitated for a moment and agreed. We thought, “Why not? This is our one chance!” I also thought to myself, “My stomach is going to hate me later, but I’ll deal with that when it happens.” I put the live tentacle into my mouth and chewed more vigorously than I ever had before. I didn’t want it to try anything funny. Scott put one in his mouth, and he said that he could feel the tentacles sucking his tongue. He had to physically put his finger in his mouth and pull it off the roof of his mouth. The meat was crunchy and sweet. I wasn’t careful enough with the second tentacle, and it sucked my tongue. It was the weirdest feeling and totally freaked me out. It would be rude to spit it out, so I smiled, crunched the darn thing between my molars and swallowed. It was a strange experience, and I am not sure if I would do it again, but at least I can say that I have tried live squid. Scott was offered the raw mouth and told to make sure not to swallow the beak. He couldn’t say no, so he ate it with courage. The fisherman grilled the rest of the body, and we ate it. Throughout the meal, the pun master would say cryptic things such as, “When the meat of the squid turns white, it is ready to eat. If the skin of your wife turns white, be ready to run.” I could imagine him with a long white mustache and beard, stroking it as he told us his puzzling adages. We sat awhile longer with the men and enjoyed the turquoise of the water. The men finished another liter of rice wine. Storm clouds were brewing, so The Mechanic got us all on the boat to get back before it started raining. We said goodbye, and Uncle said words so reminiscent of Tien’s mom, “Don’t forget to come back again and visit me. Remember me when you got back home.” We said that we would.

Touring the floating village!

Scott giving it a shot

Pretending to catch the MASSIVE squid we ate

Cleaning

Grilling

Freshly grilled squid!

Back on the small motorboat, we got to learn more about Bac Di. He is a retired cop from Orange County and had so many stories to tell us about his adventures and the dangers of his job. We were fascinated. Scott and I could not believe all the great people we had met in Vietnam so far, Vietnamese and American alike. Being in Vietnam had enabled us to make new friends. It seems that traveling to a different country brings people closer together. Travelers are a tight knit group of people, and Vietnamese friends are loyal and loving. After we docked, we said our goodbyes and biked back to our hotel to freshen up before exploring the long stretch of beach that is Nha Trang. The beach was extremely crowded. People were parasailing, jetskiing, tanning, lounging, and playing in the water. It was pretty much the direct opposite from the peace and quiet of Phu Quoc Island. Scott and I tanned and fell asleep on the beach, and then decided to go to a famous brewhouse in Nha Trang, Louisiane Brewhouse. We got lost a few times driving along the main road mostly because it was so crowded. We had to stop and ask a taxi driver how to get there. Anytime I pronounce an English word in the English pronunciation, the locals never understand, so I have to add a little Vietnamese twist to it, and all of a sudden, they know what I am talking about.

We finally found the place, and it was quite nice. We walked in, and there were large copper vats in the entrance. The dining area was luxurious, and there was a pool in the middle of the outdoor seating area. Scott and I sat down. At first I spoke to the waiter in English, decided that I preferred Vietnamese, and surprised them. They always seemed happy that I can speak Vietnamese even though I am sure that they would rather practice their English than listen to my broken Vietnamese. They are usually nice enough to give in and converse with me in Vietnamese, at which point, Scott guesses what I am saying by my body language and the few words he knows. He is usually spot on. We tried the beer tasting sample. The owner of the brewhouse is from New Zealand, and his mission was to bring microbrewed beer to Nha Trang, which was right up Scott and my alley. I was tempted to jump into the pool, but was told by the waitress that it was only for daytime use. The place looked like it could house a really hoppin’ party. Scott and I headed home early again only because all the activities of the day had tired us. We had woken as the sun was rising over the coast of Nha Trang. Though it is worth it, traveling from place to place can be exhausting, so before we knew it, we were asleep, and it was already the next morning.

-Audrey

Scott cruising on our motorbike (picture taken from a taxi)

Nha Trang, the beach city

Tuesday, August 2, 2011

Scott and I woke up at 6 am to grab breakfast before leaving. We decided to eat at the resort because there was no other option, but it was going to be a bit expensive. We went to the restaurant, and we were one of two guests awake. We sat down to order, and the same waitress from the first night came up to us: Ana Mandara provides a free breakfast buffet every morning. She had been looking for us the previous morning. They brought us to another room, and a feast was laid before our very eyes! There was Western and Eastern food. They had freshly-made jam, croissants, fruit, an omelet station, Vietnamese soups, freshly squeezed juices, and many more. We couldn’t believe that we had missed this the morning before. We learned another lesson that day: always double-check the amenities of your hotel. Scott and I had the most delicious and rushed breakfast, and I was lamenting the fact that we didn’t know this yesterday.

Scott and I had booked a bus through Sinh Tourist to Nha Trang, so a van packed with 8 tourists came to pick us up. Scott and I were squished in the front. Scott and I have coined another term, “transition days.” These are the days that we have to move to another city and involves traveling. They are usually the most stressful. Well, we were on a transition day, and I was paranoid about missing the bus and must have asked the van driver 10 times if we were going to be late (because we kinda were!). The major difference between Scott and me is that I always worry, and he never seems to. This means that I like to a be a bit militant about our packing, eating breakfast, and leaving on time. Each time, he tells me not to worry. We finally arrived at the bus station and were one of the last guests to board. Bus stations oftentimes involve a lot of scrambling for us: I am always running to someone I think is dressed in uniform and frantically asking, “Is this the right bus?” “Can you call a taxi for us?” “Please make sure our bags are on the right bus.” “Do you have the right ticket?” They all must think that I am crazy. I hopped in first and diligently watched Scott pack the bus and slowly wander to the bathroom. How could he be so calm? Everyone was already on the bus! Needless to say, everything turned out okay, and we started our ride. Nha Trang is not very far from Dalat, but it takes 4 hours by bus because the route winds around the mountains. It was the most beautiful and scenic ride we had been on yet. The mountains were tall and looming, jungle trees shaped like toothbrushes (Scott’s term) jutted into the sky, water streamed down the side of the mountain, and every once in a while we saw the gray of the mountain stone.

After 4 hours, we arrived in sunny Nha Trang. The city’s weather stays sunny and cloudless for most of the year. Tourists filled the main streets, and resorts filled the coast’s skyline. We were later told us that Nha Trang once had the beauty of Morocco with the French villas and beautiful trees lining the streets. Now, it was an urban beach city. Scott and I checked in at our hotel, Tide Hotel, which was just a little outside of the main downtown area. We got a balcony, ocean-front room for only $15/night.

We have a family friend, Bac Di, who is living in Nha Trang, who we had been in contact with for a few weeks before our visit there. He had prepared his motorbike for us to borrow for two days. Bac Di and his wife live in Nha Trang for half the year (sometimes a whole year) and in the States the other half. It was the city he grew up in, and when we first met him, he looked like he belonged in a beach town. He had a cool necklace on, he was tan, and he had the relaxed style of a beach resident. Bac Di teaches Aikido for free in Nha Trang and occasionally goes spearfishing. We were excited to meet him and explore this new city with him. We went to pick up his motorbike and met his wife. They were already prepared for our spearfishing trip the next day. Bac Di recommended a place for us to eat lunch to enjoy the Nha Trang specialty, nem nuong (grilled ground pork). With our small map in hand, we finally found the restaurant, but not without some difficult. I am a poor navigator and completely led us astray, after I had listened to Bac Di’s directions. The meal was interactive; you had to wrap the pork with herbs, cucumber, mango, and fried rice paper to give it crunch into rice paper to make the rolls. Inexpensive and tasty.

After lunch, we visited the Po Nagar Champa temple. The Champa people inhabited the country of Vietnam before they were overthrown by the Vietnamese. Many of their ancient temples still stand in different parts of Vietnam, including Nha Trang. Scott and I drove to the ruins, and the courtyard leading to the main temple consisted of 12 tall pillars made of an orange-red brick. The view of the city was incredible. Up at the main site, there was one large temple and a few smaller ones, all with altars inside. People still entered the temples to pray. The ruins were beautiful and imagining them in their full splendor filled me with awe. Thousands of years ago, Champa people roamed these grounds, and now we were taking pictures of it. Much of the ruins had been restored, and the nice beautiful red brick we saw was actually from the 21^st century. Few of the original bricks still stood, which we found to be more beautiful because of its ancient splendor. It was almost too bad that the ruins had been restored so much. Scott and I took many pictures and headed to our second destination of the day.

Champa pillars

Audrey in the (restored) ruins

Scaudrey enjoying some Vietnamese history

Port of Nha Trang

Restored Champa temple

Inscriptions

Neighboring gardens

Thap Ba Hot Springs is a famous spa that uses the natural mineral water and mud to create unique baths for visitors. After getting a bit lost, we found a small road that ran next to the bay. We kept driving and couldn’t see the destination. We had to stop and ask someone for directions only to find that the place was only a few meters ahead. Scott and I opted for the “VIP Spa” treatment, and we were pampered for over 6 hours. We lounged near the pool first. It was so hot outside, so Scott and I jumped into the pool only to find that it, too, was extremely hot. We soon discovered that the pool’s water came from natural hot springs of the Thap Ba area. We would jump into the cold, mineral waterfalls and back to the pool of hot spring water. After a few hours, it was finally time to enjoy our mudbath. The bath was literally filled with mud water, and we both jumped in. It was the strangest experience; I felt like I was coated in grainy paint. We scrubbed our limbs and faces, and I covered my hair with the mud. It was supposed to be good for your skin. Then, we jumped into the hot mineral Jacuzzi. My skin has never felt so soft. The mud really had some magical qualities to it. After that, we got a 95 minute massage, dinner, and a mini-facial. Scott and I ended up being the last guests to leave, and by the time we stepped outside, it was dark. We were so relaxed. The road home was dark and empty, and we were swerving through small alleyways. We made it back to the hotel and decided to explore the night life a bit. Apparently, Nha Trang has a pretty bumpin’ nightlife which caters to the tourists, but Scott and I are always too tired to go out and “party.” We ended up at the night market, where there were stands and stands of jewelry, clothing, and other souvenirs. The market was lit aglow with blue Christmas lights and electric Chinese lanterns. Scott and I headed straight for the food section to buy our cherished drinks: nuoc mia (sugarcane juice) and sinh to (smoothie). The market was so crowded, and we had to push and shove are way through that pretty soon we were ready to leave. We went back home and quickly fell asleep, but the bottom line was going to the hot springs is a must if you stop by Nha Trang. My skin had never felt so smooth after I rubbed some mud all over it.

-Audrey

Mineral spring waterfall

Mineral water massage

Sunrise from Tide Hotel