USD22 can really get you a long way… a long way indeed, but at the price of a sore bottom. We decided that an open ticket was the best way to get to Hanoi via Hoi An and Hue, especially because we (or rather, Aly and Fabius) intend to get to Hanoi by Sunday morning to catch the evening’s clash between Man U and Liverpool. While the open ticket was a good idea, the choice of bus company proved a mistake, as the story unfolds…
We were on an overnight bus from Nha Trang to Hoi An when Fabius discovered that his Lumix and Ipod were missing. When we raised the alarm later, to our dismay, the co-driver showed very little emphathy and did nothing much to help us recover the stolen belongings. He did a very brief search, informed the driver, and went back to sleep. We were surprised at his lack of concern, especially Fabius who had to deal with the loss and was clearly too distraught to get any sleep.
If that wasn’t enough, we attempted to make a police report at the Hoi An Police Station. This proved to be a greater challenge as no one apparently understood the concept of insurance and our intentions were quickly misconstrued. We had a hard time explaining that all we had wanted was to get a report done for the sake of claiming insurance. This did not come through until much later when a male officer entered to clear up the mess. By then, the damage was done – raised voices, frayed nerves, aching calves shuttling between the station and the ticket office, and sheer frustration over misinterpreted messages. In the end, the report was never completed but we managed to end it all on a lighter note and both sides apologised for the miscommunication. There was goodwill after all amidst crisis…
That aside, the bus ride was not eventful, with the exception of Juan, a 27-year-old Chilean travelling alone on SEA. It took us quite a while to open up to each other but as soon as we reached Hoi An, we were separated into different hotels. That very morning, we booked into Ving Huy Hotel just outside the main town. Upon checking in, we signed up for a USD3 tour of the My Son ruins. I must admit that I had been warned against it but the price seemed reasonable, only to find out later that it was not inclusive of the USD4 entrance fee. Having visited Angkor Wat, the Cham ruins did very little to ignite any inkling of interest in a temple freak like me. Nonetheless, the brief trip gave me the chance to get to know 2 dutch ladies, Miraelle and Ilse, as well as a Canadian couple, Sharon and Roger, who were also ‘duped’ into signing up for the half-day tour. I had a meaningful exchange indeed with the Canadian couple who will be spending Christmas at Cua Dai Beach just outside Hoi An.
We were on an overnight bus from Nha Trang to Hoi An when Fabius discovered that his Lumix and Ipod were missing. When we raised the alarm later, to our dismay, the co-driver showed very little emphathy and did nothing much to help us recover the stolen belongings. He did a very brief search, informed the driver, and went back to sleep. We were surprised at his lack of concern, especially Fabius who had to deal with the loss and was clearly too distraught to get any sleep.
If that wasn’t enough, we attempted to make a police report at the Hoi An Police Station. This proved to be a greater challenge as no one apparently understood the concept of insurance and our intentions were quickly misconstrued. We had a hard time explaining that all we had wanted was to get a report done for the sake of claiming insurance. This did not come through until much later when a male officer entered to clear up the mess. By then, the damage was done – raised voices, frayed nerves, aching calves shuttling between the station and the ticket office, and sheer frustration over misinterpreted messages. In the end, the report was never completed but we managed to end it all on a lighter note and both sides apologised for the miscommunication. There was goodwill after all amidst crisis…
That aside, the bus ride was not eventful, with the exception of Juan, a 27-year-old Chilean travelling alone on SEA. It took us quite a while to open up to each other but as soon as we reached Hoi An, we were separated into different hotels. That very morning, we booked into Ving Huy Hotel just outside the main town. Upon checking in, we signed up for a USD3 tour of the My Son ruins. I must admit that I had been warned against it but the price seemed reasonable, only to find out later that it was not inclusive of the USD4 entrance fee. Having visited Angkor Wat, the Cham ruins did very little to ignite any inkling of interest in a temple freak like me. Nonetheless, the brief trip gave me the chance to get to know 2 dutch ladies, Miraelle and Ilse, as well as a Canadian couple, Sharon and Roger, who were also ‘duped’ into signing up for the half-day tour. I had a meaningful exchange indeed with the Canadian couple who will be spending Christmas at Cua Dai Beach just outside Hoi An.
Hoi An is a quaint little town that, with its stunning French architecture and laidback yet colourful lifestyle, I grew to love. I’m not too sure if the same could be said about Aly (because he finds it difficult to appreciate such fine things in life) as well as Fabius (who lost his mood along with his beloved camera and Ipod) but I sure had a wonderful time capturing Hoi An’s understated grandeur in still life.
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