Wet, Flooded, and Fabulous … Four Days Around Hoi An and Da Nang

 

 Two weeks before our arrival, central Vietnam was hit by torrential rain and flooding, followed a week later by a powerful typhoon. The resilience of the Vietnamese people was remarkable—the speed of cleanup at hotels and tourist areas was incredible, even if plenty of debris still lingered outside the main tourist zones. It rained most of the four days we were there; the floodwaters had receded but were far from gone. Studiosus canceled the bike ride through the rice paddies, giving us an unexpected free morning to rest, along with a few other minor itinerary shifts.

Countless photos were taken during those days – a smaller selection can be found by clicking here.

On Wednesday afternoon we finally explored Hoi An’s Old Town, an ancient port city that has remained astonishingly unchanged. One photo shows a group of white-caped visitors standing behind a doorway with inscriptions. Zoom in, and you’ll see the flood line from just three weeks earlier—waist-high on a gentleman in the frame. We were stunned, as the house showed little damage beyond its age. The town offered beautiful art and almost anything you could imagine, all housed in centuries-old buildings, often with families still living in the back.

Thursday took us to the ruins of My Son, once the capital of the Champa Kingdom, a culture deeply influenced by Hinduism. The site had been largely intact until U.S. bombers targeted Vietcong hiding there; today it is slowly being rebuilt with funding from India. Many of us were as captivated by the lush tropical forest and dramatic terrain as by the ruins themselves. On our way out, we were treated to a traditional dance performance.

Later that day came another cooking class. One photo shows me triumphantly flipping a pancake-like dish into the air – less graceful was a second later, I didn’t exactly nail the landing. Speaking of silly photos, I included one where I appear to be dancing, though I have no idea why I struck that pose. I do, however, know why I ended up on a small bronze horse. After Brigitta elegantly rode the same goofy steed, someone suggested I should try. I replied only if Andreas went first – to my surprise, he took the dare. Teenagers again, what can I say. The horse was stationed at a French fort atop a mountain pass, complete with fog and rain gear.

After the cooking course, we took rickshaws through Da Nang for about 30 minutes. I’m still undecided which is more nerve-wracking: riding through heavy Vietnamese traffic in the front seat of a taxi at night or sitting exposed in the front of a rickshaw. Both were … errrr … experiences.

Friday brought us to Hue’s Forbidden City, another UNESCO World Heritage site and former seat of the Vietnamese monarchy. Like My Son, it was heavily damaged by U.S. bombing but is now being restored. Even in partial reconstruction, it was breathtaking as the pictures show. We returned to the hotel that evening in time to pack for the early drive Saturday back to Da Nang airport and our flight to Ho Chi Minh City – although even the locals seem to use the name Saigon.