3rd March: Quy Nhon, Vietnam to Hoi An, Vietnam

We left a hazy Quy Nhon early, grabbing coffee and jumping in a Grab back to Dieu Tri station. The dual carriageway was busy with giant trucks all beeping at everything that dared to get in their way. We felt small in our little taxi.

The SE2 train on the Reunification Line is hardly a high-speed train, with 84 km/h the fastest speed I noticed on the information screen, but it was comfortable and relaxing. This is the exact train we’ll be on next week in one of the sleeper carriages, so that bodes well. The locomotive bore the name Doi Moi, which is a reference to the economic policy of capitalist entities within an overall communist system which Vietnam introduced in a similar way to China.

The scenery of bright green rice fields being worked by water buffalo and deep green rolling hills beyond was spectacular. We passed many wide rivers along the way, each having come from the hills before opening out on to the narrow coastal plain.

Arrival into Da Nang was incredibly announced by its own theme song! An operatic number praising the virtues of the city was repeated at ear-splitting volume over the train’s tinny speakers. I guess we’d arrived?!

To get to station-less Hoi An required some kind of 45-minute drive back down the coast. Public buses were discontinued in 2020 and haven’t resumed. The private alternative service seemed to avoid the train station like the plague, making a giant loop a couple of kilometres all around it. We decided we’d probably end up taking a taxi, as we’d have to do that at either end anyway should be get the bus. Grab looked expensive, so rather than dive into the taxi scrum outside the station we slipped down the side and politely declined all approaches. Instead, we took our time over since fresh juices. Of course, the owner’s family also had a taxi. We got a good price, so once we’d finished our drinks we were on our way!

First, we crossed the river, which counterintuitively flows parallel to the coast, and then turned south. Da Nang has a long, sandy beach which was deserted in the strong sun like many others in Vietnam. After a few kilometres, the beach became a hodge-podge of high-end resorts, many less successful abandoned ones, and a few under construction hopeful of the next travel boom. Eventually, he streets of Hoi An appeared, filled with tailors and day trippers.

We arrived at the small hotel, but nobody was around. I noticed an envelope on a table and then that it had my name on. We took the key and let ourselves in! Unfortunately, the room wasn’t habitable at all with mould everywhere including on the pillows. I’ve no idea how it had such good reviews, but we returned the envelope to the desk and messaged that we were leaving. This is the first time in 6 months on this trip that we’ve had to walk away somewhere, which feels like pretty good going.

Fortunately, we were in a town with lots of accommodation and a quick look online had reassured us that at least something would be available. We retreated down the picturesque streets of Cam Nam Island to a restaurant on the riverside to have dinner and gather our thoughts. I found a place very quickly, although Kaja wasn’t convinced as it was a little bit of a walk from the historic centre. It had amazing reviews about cleanliness and the family running it, which is exactly what I wanted to hear right now. After going around in circles with other closer but less impressive places, we booked it.

It was a 1.2 km walk down the river, but this was glorious along a car-free lane with restaurants on one side and the Thu Bon River on the other. The light was spectacular as the sun set and lanterns were turned on both on land and on the boats in the river. Despite our own misfortune, Hoi An seems lovely. We passed a colourfully lit pedestrian bridge and swung inland down a quiet alley to find our new place to sleep. Immediately, I had a great feeling about this homestay. The whole family – grandparents, parents, young kids, and aunts and uncles – were sat out front and incredibly welcoming. One young girl kept waving, between watching TikTok videos. We were shown up to our room by the very friendly mum of the little girl and settled ourselves in. When I popped down later to go in search of snacks, I learned that she was called Robin and was 3 years old. Little Robin insisted on showing me how to make a heart with my fingers before I could head out and then show her that I’d remembered before I went back upstairs to the room. So cute!