Cu Lao Cham

Just off shore from Hoi An, and within sight of Cau Dai beach, is Cu Lao Cham, or the Cham Islands. As the name suggests it is an island inhabited by people of the Cham ethnic group. There are eight islands, only one of which, Hon Lao, is populated. Basic tourist accomodations are available but most tourists visit the islands on a daytrip.

I expected the tour to be like Koh Phi Phi Ley in Thailand or Nha Trang in Vietnam: meaning beautiful terrain spoiled by thousands of tourists. I was happy to be proven wrong.

It takes about 25 minutes by speedboat to get to Hon Lao from Cau Dai beach. The group I was in was friendly and fun, which is good since we were stacked on the boat like cordwood. I should note that the crew insisted we wear lifejackets, which was reassuring, since I've been on tour boats that didn't even have them.


The first stop was the fishing village at Bai Huong, or Huong Beach. I would have preferred to go straight to the beach, but the brief tour of the town was enjoyable and our tour guide was surprisingly competent. This was a nice touch I hadn't seen before.


We stopped at a small visitor center where we learned about, among other things, land crabs. These migrate from all over the island to a common mating ground once a year, following the lunar cycle. No one understands how they know. They're friendly, too!


To get to the visitor center we had to walk through patches of drying rice.


Our boat is the small white spot in the top left corner. The village is visible in the distance. From there we walked through rice terraces where a farmer was tilling with help from a buffalo.


We went to a small temple where there was more rice drying in the courtyard.


This is a peek inside the temple. Note the red swastika on the small Buddha statue's chest.


The village has little tourist infrastructure. It's a working fishing village. Here are some locals weighing the day's catch of squid.


From there we took the boat to a reef where we could snorkel. Or snoke, as this boat says.


The water was surprisingly cool and refreshing but there wasn't much to see underwater. We went to a small restaurant where the food wasn't great, but it was plentiful.


We spent the rest of the afternoon relaxing on the beach. Our restaurant was part of a small guest house. There was another small resort further down the beach. But we were the only people there! I've been on boat trips where the beach and the snorkel spots are packed with boats and tourists. We had the whole beach to ourselves. Bliss.

The only other boats there were a couple fishing boats. The mainland is visible in the background. Fishermen paint eyes on the front of the boat to help find fish.

Once more unto the beach

The first time I was in Hoi An I spent a day at Cau Dai beach. It's leisurely 20-minute bike ride from the town. The day was windy and overcast and downright chilly when I got on the beach. But the beach itself seemed quite nice. I wondered what it would look like on a clear, sunny day.

Now I know. It wasn't just hot and sunny. It was probably the hottest day I've ever spent on a beach. The sand scalded my feet even through my flip-flops. Even in the shade of a beach umbrella the heat was suffocating.

But the water was refreshingly cool, so I got in every 20 or 30 minutes or so to cool off. In Thailand, by way of comparison, the water is so warm that it doesn't cool you off. It's hard to tell where the air ends and the water begins.

One of the knocks against Vietnam is that, even though it's a beautiful country and easy to get around and the food is delicious and the people are wonderful, the beaches don't compare to Thailand.

I don't get it. I was hugely disappointed by the beaches in Thailand. The ones I visited were narrow, crowded and loud. It's impossible to relax while you're fending off a never-ending stream of beach vendors, 10 or 12 per minute at times.

The beaches in Vietnam are long, wide and relatively undeveloped, although that's changing quickly. Nowhere in Vietnam did I see anything like Hat Chaweng, the biggest beach on Koh Samui in Thailand.



I had plenty of time to check out the Vietnam coastline from the air this past week because I flew four times. Danang-Hanoi, Hanoi-Danang, Danang-Saigon, Saigon-Hanoi. Long story.

There are miles and miles of pristine beach with no commercial development whatsoever. The water isn't as clear as I've seen in other parts of SE Asia but aside from that I like the beaches in Vietnam much, much more than those in Thailand. I don't want to be too hasty in my appraisal, though. I think this warrants further research. I think I should spend a few more weeks beach-hopping before I submit an official opinion.

I've mentioned before how I think it's funny how overweight, pasty-skinned tourists suffer through the scorching mid-day heat in skimpy clothes while the locals do everything they can to avoid the sun. Women here will cover literally every inch of skin during the day: sunhat, mask, scarf, long sleeves, gloves, pants, socks and sandals. The only part they don't cover is their eyes.

The reason, as I understand it, and as with most things I "understand" I'm probably dead wrong, is due to a cultural belief that goes back literally thousands of years. Dark skin is traditionally a sign that the person farms or fishes or toils at some other "common" work in the sun all day. Lighter skin is a sign of wealth or refinement.

When locals go to the beach for fun they go in the morning or the evening, when the sun is low and the air is cooler. This makes a lot of sense, aside from the fact that these are the times when sharks feed.

This is a stretch of beach near my sunbed at mid-day.



This is almost the same shot near sunset, with the beach full of locals.



One way to pass the time is to watch the local fishermen working. These circular boats practically beg to have their photos taken.



Fishermen stand up as they row these with a single long paddle. This is a shot from Cham Island (which I'll cover in a separate post). Try this at home. I dare you. I think I'd be able to stay on a rodeo bull longer than I could stand up in one of these boats.



Later in the day they create just the right amount of shade for a man to play with his granddaughter on the beach.



I met a woman who lives in Saigon but was in Hoi An visiting family. She invited me to dinner at a beach a few miles up the road that I hadn't heard or read about. It was packed with people eating, swimming and relaxing on the beach. I did not see another tourist.

Tourists always pay more. I don't have a problem with that, as long as I don't think I'm getting fleeced. Even at inflated prices I pay much less than I would at home. We ordered two big grilled fish, picked the meat off and rolled it in rice paper with fresh greens. I'm sure there's a name for this but I don't know it. I was too stuffed to ask. We each had a soda. The entire meal cost about twice as much as the coffee I'm drinking as I write this!

Denouement

Vietnam is an easy country to travel in, partly due to the wealth of transportation options, but mostly because of the shape of the country. Because it's long and skinny, visitors either travel from north to south (Hanoi to Saigon) or vice versa.

I did the south to north route, entering from Cambodia, starting in Saigon and heading north to Hanoi and ultimately to Sapa. Having gone all the way up, I'm now going back down. I decided to return to Hoi An, my favorite town in the whole wide world. The sunset shot above is just one reason why.

From here I may continue on to Saigon, or I may go back north again and see if I have better luck with the weather in Sapa. My visa for Vietnam expires on May 3, so I may stay here for a couple more weeks. Or I may go back to Cambodia. Or Laos. Ask me tomorrow.

I am totally winging it at this point. The trip is essentially over. I'm just trying to stretch it out as long as I can. Luckily I'm in a part of the world where it's easy to travel cheaply.

I don't expect to be posting as much since I'll probably be covering familiar ground. After the breakneck pace of the first half of the trip it's been nice to be able to take my time and relax a little.

My Son

The title of this post is the name of a site of ancient ruins in Vietnam. I have not become a father on this trip. That would require a certain amount of, um, participation on my part.

My Son is the site of Hindu temples built by the Champa empire, which flourished in Vietnam and Cambodia in the 7th to 15th centuries. They vied for control of the region with the Siamese and Khmer kingdoms. In the early 1600s the Champa king converted to Islam, and thus most modern-day Chams are Muslims.

They didn't build monuments on the scale of those found in Thailand and Cambodia. The Thais and Khmers built using cut blocks of sandstone and lateriate. The Champa ruins are of interest partly because they were built with brick.



The site is about an hour outside of Hoi An and is still mostly unexcavated. The site is poorly organized so that lots of walking and shuttling about in beatup minivans is necessary. Once at the ruins themselves they can be visited in less than an hour.

The temples were built in the hilly jungle, at the foot of Cat's Tooth Mountain. I visited in mid-March. The heat was suffocating, the humidity so thick you could literally see the air. I can't imagine what it's like there in the summer. Or what it was like having to bake the bricks, hack away at the jungle and build the temples in the tropical heat.


I love the dash of color added by the Buddhist monk's robes. Again, these are Hindu temples. He was there as part of my tour group!

Excavations are underway, but I think there's a certain charm to seeing the ruins in situ and reclaimed by the jungle.


The ancient Cham language, as seen on this engraving, was derived from Sanskrit, but looks similar to modern Thai, Lao and Khmer.


If my guide was correct (and this is a big if!) it's a dead language, and even modern-day Chams can't read it.

And what would a Southeast Asian historical site be without a few craters from US bombs?



The US bombed the site in 1969, destroying the two largest temples and damaging 16 others.

Hoi An

My relationship with Hoi An got off to a rocky start. Getting there was a nightmare, one of the worst travel days I've had. It was expensive, complicated and frustrating. I arrived in town before sunrise. I was wandering around trying to find a room just after sunrise when I saw something surprisingly rare in this part of the world: a traffic accident.

Motorbikes are the preferred mode of transportation in Vietnam. (I'm told there are six million motorbikes in Saigon alone, and having been there, I believe it.)

Bicycles are also still common. At any given moment dozens of each will be crossing an intersection. It all seems chaotic and dangerous to American eyes. But then you realize these people aren't talking on their celphone, drinking a cafe latte, programming their iPod and smoking a cigarette while they're trying to drive. They're actually paying attention to the road.

In the early morning a moto driver came around a corner too fast and crashed into a woman on another moto. The two of them crashed into a young girl on a bike. The driver who caused the accident was unharmed, of course, but the other moto driver was unconscious in the street. I couldn't figure out why the girl was sitting up in the road until I realized that her left leg had snapped below the knee and was folded under her.

I was standing on the other side of the intersection with my backpack on. Luckily I didn't have to do anything because dozens of people appeared instantly. One of them went to fetch a minivan from a travel agent. They loaded the girl and the woman (who had come to) into the van and drove away.

I thought perhaps I should heed the omen and get the next bus out of town. But I didn't. I am so glad I didn't. Hoi An is my new favorite town.

I had arrived in part of town where there were a number of guest houses. But everything was closed. I arrived before sunrise, so the area looked desolate. I didn't know if I was in a good or bad part of town. (It turns out it was right where I wanted to be, just a five-minute walk from the riverside.)

I was incredibly fortunate to find a nice room at a nice price at 6:20 a.m. The girl at the front desk was nice enough to let me use the room, even though it hadn't been cleaned. Most guest houses won't let you check in until noon.

It was early enough to book a tour to the Cham ruins at My Son for that morning. Since I was already up I did it. (I'll talk about the tour in a separate post.)

I was hot, sweaty, deliriously tired and starving when I got back from the tour that afternoon. I stopped at a food stand to get some pho (pronounced fur, but like a question, and without the hard American 'r' on the end.)

Pho is a Vietnamese staple dish. It's a noodle soup to which you add fresh greens and condiments. As I understand it locals eat it for breakfast but you can get it anytime. It's cheap, filling and you usually know what you're going getting.

Usually.

This was easily the worst meal I've had in Vietnam. It was terrible. On occasion I've had to ask for fresh greens. Maybe some places don't serve them to tourists because they figure we don't know better? Who knows.

I asked for chili. She didn't have chili. I asked for veggies. She didn't have any. It was greasy broth with what tasted like store-bought noodles and a few pieces of stringy meat. I don't know what the American equivalent would be. Maybe screwing up toast and butter?

So Hoi An and I were off to a rocky start. I still hadn't seen the town. I went back to my room for a shower and some rest. Then I went out for a walk. That's when I fell madly, deeply in love with Hoi An.



What a great place. Perhaps the simplest way to explain it is to note that the 2002 film adaptation of Graham Greene's novel "The Quiet American" was filmed here. The film, for which Michael Caine received an Oscar nomination, takes place in Vietnam in the early 1950s. Hoi An in 2009 looks the way you would imagine Vietnam did at the time.

It's a small town, with a population of about 80,000. The historic riverside area has both traditional and French colonial architecture. Trees and flowers line the streets. Stores selling silk lanterns add to the colorful tableau.



Cars are not allowed along the riverside. You have to dodge motorbikes and bicycles but all in all it's a pretty stress-free place to go for a stroll.



Even though my first meal there was atrocious, the food in general was some of the best I've had anywhere. There's a block with a covered pavilion divided into different restaurants, and by "restaurant" I mean a small portable kitchen and a dozen tables per establishment. It was crowded with locals and tourists, so I thought I'd have a seat. But at which restaurant? I made the logical decision to pick the one with the prettiest cook.

It's too bad she's already married because I would have proposed on the spot after my first meal there. She made some of the best food I've had anywhere in the world. If you're in Hoi An go see Miss Lien and try her cao lau, a noodle dish which is a Hoi An local specialty. Also try her banh xeo, a sort of pancake-crepe with bean sprouts, shrimp and pork that you eat rolled up in rice wrappers with fresh greens. Outrageous.

I ate there every day but I did try other restaurants as well. The food wasn't quite as good as Miss Lien's but it was still pretty darn tasty.

Another thing I saw in Hoi An, which I had also seen in Saigon is "fresh beer", what they call draft beer. Most places sell it for 4,000 dong per glass, which means that you can have four beers for a dollar and get change back. It tastes like dishwater and you'd have to drink a keg to get drunk but, hey, the price is right. You can get a plate of Miss Lien's cao lau and a beer for the equivalent of $1.08.

But wait. There's more. I rented a bike for the day (less than a dollar) and rode about 20 minutes to the beach. It was a gloomy day and actually a bit chilly, but I think it must be wonderful on a sunny day. It's a big beach, mostly undeveloped, with the islands of the Cu Lao Cham Marine Park just offshore.



In fact, the beach continues virtually uninterrupted all the way north to Danang 30 km away, where a stretch of it was the famous China Beach, used by American military for R'n'R during the Vietnam War.

Shopping in Hoi An

One reason I was keen to visit Hoi An is that I was told it's the best and cheapest place in the world to buy tailored clothing. I heard so many stories from people.

I bought two suits, two shirts and two ties for 47 cents!

There are entire city blocks with nothing but tailors and shoes stores. For the folks back home, imagine a city twice the size of Annapolis with over two hundred tailors, all within two or three blocks of the City Dock, and you begin to get the idea. The sheer number is overwhelming.

So how do you choose one? At some point in the near future I hope to be going on job interviews, so I thought I'd buy a suit. I talked to other tourists. I looked at online travel forums. I visited a couple shops.

Hoi An is not, I repeat NOT a good place to buy clothes.

It is not noticeably cheaper than the US. With so many tailors it's hard to find a good (or honest) one. I met people who had to go back for three, four or even five days of alterations.

And even if you do get good clothes at a good price, you still have to get them home. You can carry them home, which isn't an option for me. Or you can ship them home. Everyone I talked to, without exception, had paid at least $100 for shipping.

I bought nothing.