Heavenly Hoi An

For all the delays and roadblocks we hit in Hue, we had an excellent adventure in Hoi An. The town is so cute I could eat it!

The bus arrived around 6:00 p.m. to an ok budget hotel, which was different from the location Mr. Pho had specified. After trying to convince us to change our reservation (compare this to changing from a Hyatt to a questionable roadside motel), the receptionist made a call to our hotel to have them pick us up there rather than the original specified location.

Our hotel was the Ancient House, which was lovely. The front of the hotel was only as wide as a house in the U.S., but after we left our passports at reception (a typical requirement that makes me a little nervous), we were led back through a delightful garden and by a neat round pool to our garden-level room. Super cute. Dark wood with a marble floor and all white walls and linens, with a few flowers sprinkled on the bed and a couple bud vases on the tables, each with a rose. There was even a laptop for us to use. All for $65/night!

We caught the shuttle back to the center of town (about a mile) to find dinner. We opted for Café des Amis, which was recommended by the guide book and turned out to be an excellent choice. There you only have three choices – fish, meat or vegetarian – and they bring you a 5-course meal for $6.80. I had fish, and Farmer had meat. Mine started with the famous Hoi An dish called “white rose” (basically a shrimp dumpling), then a fish chowder, a fish stir-fry (eaten with a few piece on a rice cracker), tiger fish with green papaya and carrots (also eaten in bits on a bit of rice cracker), and crème caramel for dessert. We were stuffed.

After dinner we walked down the charming riverfront and looked across to a very-nearby island, crossing the 50 meter bridge over to it and then looping back. The whole riverfront was lined with restaurants lit by brightly colored Chinese lanterns.

In addition to tailors, Hoi An is famous for its artisans. We stopped in a really cool model ship store on our way back through town, which had everything from ships in bottles to huge reproductions of Columbus’ ships. Farmer was drooling – good thing we have a limited amount of space in our bags.

The next morning we lounged in our room until about 11:00. Having been on the road for a little over a week, we decided to have laundry done, since there seemed to be a wealth of places in our immediate area offering that service. So we gathered up our underwear and about 10 shirts and went next door. The teeny old woman didn’t understand English at all, but a girl who appeared to be a granddaughter was putting on her helmet to head out and stopped to interpret for us. She would do the load for $6, and it would be done at 6:00.

We then headed into town. Tourism seems to be THE industry in Hoi An, which meant we were propositioned at every step – more so than in Hanoi, and definitely more than in Hue. And their pitches are pretty hilarious because they’re so straightforward: “You buy something from me. Yes, come see.” It’s not even a question that they pose, but rather a demand. Furthermore, it’s totally a front-porch culture, and “friends” are always hanging out at other stalls or in tourist attractions acting like they’re just there, until they somehow engage you in an innocent conversation. Then they invite you to just take a step to peer at their store around the corner, then they give you a card, and pretty soon they’re leading you to their store.

“How do these people ever expect to sell anything?” I said to Farmer.

Famous last words.

We’d just stopped into one of the temples to poke around, and a few women were lounging around a table at entrance. They didn’t bother us on our way in, but on the way out, one of them asked us if we were German and said she knew a few words in German because she has a friend from Germany. Then she said she was a tailor in the silk market and explained that her mom (now deceased) used to have a shop. Blah, blah, blah. She said she’d give us a card. Then she said she’d point out where the shop is, ‘It’s just a short way,” she beckoned. And pretty soon we were following her across the street to the silk market building, weaving our way through the other booths right to her table, where we ultimately sat down.

Suckers.

I had been thinking about having a skirt made, as the one I have on the trip is knit and is just too hot to be wearing in 85+ degree weather with 99 percent humidity. I wanted something lighter. And some shorts, too, since I only brought running shorts because I generally think women over 30 have no business bearing much of their legs except when working out. But it’s hot here. Damn hot. And I don’t really care what I bear when I’m sweating my hiney off.

Farmer was thinking about some shorts, too. Longer ones of lighter fabric than his khaki denim cargo shorts.

They had several books filled with pictures, so we started looking for the exact features we wanted. Farmer settled on his first, so he started looking for khaki fabric.

I started in the shorts section…but oh the dresses were cute…and so were the skirts.

Then I saw this Marc Jacobs dress, which I’d eyed when it was in the stores:

Then I saw a dress that reminded me of this Foofenstein dress:

I started looking at fabrics, still on the fence about really getting four things. After all, I’d just shipped a bunch of stuff home to get rid of weight. But I could really use the skirt and shorts, and the dresses weren’t that heavy, right?

So I went for it.

And Farmer decided to get some linen pants, in addition to his shorts.

They told us to come back at 5:00. Total price tag for six items: $166.

I’d also been thinking of getting some shoes made, as there are tons of cobblers in Hoi An, too. I asked the tailor who to go to, and as if someone had been reading my mind, the person they suggested appeared within seconds at the table. She led us out the door of the market to her tiny stall.

I was skeptical; the shoes on the shelves were just ok. But we weren’t talking big money here, and it wasn’t like any other place was any different, so we went for it. I had seen a picture in Elle but hadn’t looked at it for a number of days, so I just drew something that had a 3-inch heel, a short platform, a strap across the toe and straps the crisscrossed behind the toe strap. (I had forgotten that the shoe in the picture only had the straps on the top of the foot and not all the way down to the platform.) There were two sisters there, and while one measured my feet, the other pulled out her leather samples. I decided on red patent. (Every girl needs a pair of red shoes, right?) The price: $32.

These girls turned out to be a lot more annoying than the tailors. They begged and begged, to the point of taking my hand and looking me in the eye, “Please, please buy a pair of sandals! I give you good deal! I think you make me very lucky and buy another pair.”

Ugh! Incessant. Drove me batty.

Ultimately we escaped their confines and went for lunch at a food-court-like place, were each table had a different family cooking, yet all the tables had the same menu.

After lunch we headed back to the hotel to cool off in the pool. I’m normally not drawn to hanging out in the pool, but it was hot enough that it was really enticing. All the chairs were full with Dutch retirees, so we just dropped our flip flops by a tree and jumped in.

At 3:30 I decided to get a pedicure at the spa we’d seen on the way into town. It was quite nice, and three Australian girls were getting their toes done there at the same time. Farmer went for a snack and then camped out in the courtyard in front of the building and eavesdrop on the youthful French backpackers coming in to inquire about massages.

It was 5:15 by the time we reach our tailor’s booth in the silk market. The head cutter (this cute little pregnant gal who really seemed to have it together) took me to the next row and directed me to the make-shift dressing room that was really just a curtain looping around on a wire, giving me exactly one square foot of space to change in.

First was the black dress. This turned out to be my favorite of all the pieces (including the Hanoi dress)! It fit great.

Next the Foofenstein dress.

It was about 6 inches too long (I’d intended it to be above the knee), the skirt was a little big in the waist, and the shorts were a little tight, so she said she’d fix everything “no problem” and bring it to the hotel at 8:00. (Which she did, each nicely wrapped in cellophane.)

Farmer’s shorts were just right, but the pants were a little small in the waist, which she also fixed.

From there we stopped at the shoemaker’s stall, where they had my shoes ready to try on. Overall they weren’t bad! They made a V of the straps rather than and X, but it still looked good. They were a little big, though. She said, “No problem, I fix,” and jumped on her motorbike to take them to her dad the cobbler. Meanwhile her sister told us that she had pinkeye, then lurked in the shadows of another booth. (Fantastic.)

We had to run over to the ATM to get more Dong anyway, so the delay wasn’t a big deal. Twenty minutes later she whizzed back up, jumped of her bike, pulled the shoes out of her bag, and put them on my feet. Just right.

Then more begging to buy sandals. Ugh!

After a quick taxi ride back to the hotel to pick up our laundry (perfectly folded in a nice bag), we walked back downtown for dinner, this time picking a place on the other side of the river called the River Lounge. This place a fixed menu option for $6.80, too, which we both had. Started with an Asian-style bruschetta, then two types of spring rolls on salad, pumpkin soup, fish for me and chicken for Farmer. Dessert was a lemon grass and ginger crème brulee.

The next morning we took the hotel up on their free bicycle offer and rode 1.5 miles the opposite direction from town to the beach. The traffic didn’t wig us out too much – it’s a pretty small town in the whole scheme of things. A man flagged us down as we rode along the street by the beach, telling us to park our bikes for free if we bought a coke from him. Which we did.

He shooed us down to the water, then started moving our bikes once we were halfway down the beach. We weren’t sure what was up. So we stood there looking at him from a distance, and he shooed us again with his hand. Oh well, worst case we could walk back to town.

The beach was kinda trashed from all the storms, but it was still interesting to walk a short stretch of the sand towards some fishermen bringing in the catch of the morning. Weird boats – they were like big round baskets! Steering was by just one oar.

By that point we were getting warm, and we needed to get back to catch our flight, so we biked back to the hotel and packed up to head for our flight to Ho Chi Minh City.