Peter thinks we have died. We haven’t. Far from it. We are in fact alive, but not kicking, I’ve bloody done my back in this morning leaning over to turn the alarm off. Noony laughs at me when I move slightly, go “schhh, oooooooh”‘ and have to sit down for a minute.
We haven’t written about Nha Trang, the seaside resort of Vietnam because it was an absolute wash-out. It rained constantly for the three days we were there. We were going to have a sand building contest and let you, our friends and family, victoriously vote for mine. So yes. Nha Trang nothing to say.
We arrived three days ago in Hoi An, (not to be confused with Hanoi, an up and coming destination) and we think it has been our favourite place so far. Noony says it has been exactly how she imagined Vietnam to be. Rustic riverside architecture, vintage boutiques, and quiet roads. Hoi An is famed for its tailors and yes, I bought one. A bespoke charcoal suit with matching waistcoat, dark blue lining and five tailor made shirts, the only shirts I have ever worn that is a skinny fit but I can do the top button up over my Robert Wadlow of an adams apple. It works out at about 20% of British bespoke prices so i am happy. It is currently being shipped back to England via seamail. Inside the container also is a day’s worth of shopping which I shan’t speak off. Noony wants it to be a surprise for our return but mainly we don’t know how you’ll feel about matching crocodile skin swimming caps as your christmas presents.
The only thing we would change about the town is the unrelenting sales techniques; if only they knew that leaving you alone might encourage you to buy something rather than standing by the door, shouting “come in please”, and showing the slightest interest means they invade such intimate personal space and generally hover over you like flies on Noony’s face. It was such a deterrent that the only shop that didn’t show any interest, we bought everything in it. Not sure what to do with the Grandmother though.
We rented a motorbike for the day from the hotel and drove to the Marble Mountains, (think Ayer’s rock, flat lands with a big stone in the middle of nowhere.) then stopped off at the beach for lunch. With the amount of souvenir shops selling marble goods, they will soon only be able to call it Mountain. Having looked like utter western morons outside the hotel where we couldn’t find the lock switch to open the seat to get the helmets (in the ignition hole), not being able to turn the motorbike on (you need to hold the brake) and trying to pull away for the first time with Noony on the back, I couldn’t have felt more useless. But after about 30 seconds it was fine and great fun. Noony says she felt safe, even when we side-skidded through the middle of a tanker and flipped over the ramp before the lorry exploded by the red sunset.
Photos to follow shortly. Head to Hue tomorrow morning. Tata for now.
Pez and Noony go away 