My skills in translating Vietnamese to English are, I’m afraid, utterly non-existent. I haven’t the slightest idea what any of the noises mean, and after two and a half weeks here my Vietnamese vocabulary, somewhat embarrassingly, only stretches as far as being able to gain a waitresses attention: “Em Oi!” not being the most difficult of things to learn, since “Oi!” is a pretty standard term used in England to get somebody’s attention anyway,
Despite all of this, I’m pretty sure that “Hoi An”, the name of the town I’ve been staying in for the past five days, is a direct translation of the English word “Lazy”. Never before have I felt so lazy. Never before have my energy levels and my desire to rush around and do stuff been so low. Hoi An is the motivational equivalent of a group of stoners attending a comfy-chair sitting competition run and organised by a family of sloths.
That isn’t a bad thing though, as Hoi An is a delightfully pretty place. Of all the sights I’ve seen in Vietnam – and I’ve seen some truly amazing things already, Hoi An stands out as the nicest man-made area so far. The tiny town is filled with glorious, rustic buildings from the old French colonial days, all lovingly restored. The streets are lined with leafy trees, themselves filled with a colourful tapestry of blossom and fruit. A narrow river snakes through the center of town, peppered with little fishing boats and the rippling reflections of dozens of brightly-lit lanterns which hang from every building. The whole thing truly is a wonderful sight, especially at night, and at times you wonder if you really are in Vietnam and not somehow floating around in a scene from Disney’s Fantasia.
I can honestly say that if you want peace and quiet, and would enjoy spending your day doing absolutely nothing except eating great food and looking over a mesmerising range of colours and scenery, you could do a lot worse than come here.
Unfortunately, I’m clearly not the only one with that idea. Such is the charm of Hoi An that it seems to have taken on a Honeymooners feel without even trying to, meaning that it’s not only an incredibly romantic location, but at times a rather lonely one too. Sure, there’s plenty of other westerners here, but you soon realise after just a day or so that most of them are in couples. And whilst there’s still a good number of visitors left-over who aren’t here just to reenact the ‘bowl of spaghetti’ scene from Lady and the Tramp, they’re all as spoilt for choice here as I am when it comes to restaurants. With there being so many places here to eat, most of them fantastic, and so few people to go around, finding an eatery with more than three or four people is a real challenge. Add to that the matter of it being low-season and therefore much quieter, the complete absence of night-life beyond a good meal and a stroll along the river, and the continuous rain that has dropped from the sky by the gallon for half of the time I’ve been here, and you’re left with a town which feels just a little too desolate at times.
I really have loved it here in Hoi An. The food, stunning views, and serenity of the location are all great things I’ll remember. And I’ve equally enjoyed the essence of pure, limitless laziness, which seems to float through the air and permeate every living thing in this town. After five days of all that however, I’m ready for just a tiny bit of partying. Throw in some scuba diving, a bit of beach fun, and perhaps a few more 15p glasses of beer from the nearest Bia Hoi, and you have my next destination in mind. Next stop – Nha Trang!
|
|
 |
 |
 |
 |
 |
 |
|
|
 |
 |
 |
 |
 |
 |
 |
 |
 |
|
|
 |
 |
|
 |
 |
 |
 |
 |
 |
 |
|
 |
 |
|
 |