I flashed back to four years previously as the bus pulled into Hoi An bus station, remembering it is on the edge of the town and we would need more transport to get to our destination. The traditional group of insistent taxi drivers awaited us as we left the bus, but things had changed from four years ago. Not only did I have a better idea of price but, with a smart phone in hand and the new age of taxi apps (here in the form of Grab) at our fingertips, we quickly deduced that ordering and waiting for a car would be around a third of the price offered to us by the waiting men, even after a little haggling. Although I do not appreciate their blatant overcharging, I do worry how this will affect them as more and more tourists and travellers will opt for this route, will they realise that matching a Grab price is better than losing the sale altogether?
We had booked our AirBnB in An Bang Beach district, nearly 5 km from Hoi An centre (the Ancient Town). Our first task was to find said accommodation, with Google unable to determine the exact location from the information I’d been given. We walked in scorching heat until we found the matching hotel name and headed inside. Shoes off, sat down, the man behind the counter had to call a younger girl who spoke English to try and find information on our booking. It quickly emerged we were in the wrong hotel, and so were sent to the end of the street to the right one. Or so we thought… At this location the lady was good enough to call our host. It was on the other side of the road and we had walked right past it! With great relief we finally sat down in the right location, early (a surprise to both the hosts who did not yet have our rooms ready, and to me who never expects to be anywhere early when taking a bus ride in Vietnam!), and very grateful for the cold drinks which were placed in front of us while we waited.
Deciding there was no reason to rush anywhere in that heat, we decided to wait until we checked into our rooms before making any moves elsewhere. An hour or so later we headed back out with the first and foremost objective of finding food. Ian had done some research and discovered a vegan restaurant on the beach-front called The Fisherman – so named apparently as it is owned by a fisherman who turned vegan.
The Fisherman turned out to be an excellent discovery. With a multitude of seat options, a 20 second walk to the beach and a range of great food and cocktail options, there felt little need to go elsewhere. Since arriving in Vietnam mum and Ian’s itinerary had been rather constant, and thus, I think, a little exhausting. They’d been introduced to the speed, noise and pollution of the traffic, dealt with the heat of the country, taken several different types of transport as we hopped from Hanoi to Hue to Danang, not to mention the mental capacity it takes trying to compute all that is happening in a culture and landscape so very different from your own. Safe to say, the couple of relaxation days that followed were much needed.
After I’d finished delivering my online teaching sessions that evening, and re-learnt how to move my legs after a 3-hour stint in an increasingly uncomfortable position on the floor (this arrangement meant there was a wall behind me for my teaching backdrop and the bed in front of me being used as a make-shift desk), we decided to make our way to the Ancient Town. As we enjoyed an unusually horn free car journey my mind flashed images from four years previously, the gentle glow of many coloured lanterns surrounding the riverside.
I realised, as we began to walk from the car in search of food, that I did not remember the streets of the Ancient Town, only the river and the lanterns. There were still a good number of tourists wandering, despite the late hour, a gentle glow emanating down each side of the road from the still open shops and restaurants. At nearly 10pm our meal choices were quickly dwindling, and there seemed little choice for us vegan folk (my mum and I, Ian would eat anything!). We found a place to satisfy our hunger and then made out way towards the river.
Walking down a darkened street we passed market sellers packing up their stalls, the odd motorbike cruising by as we squeezed around boxes and people scattered along the road. As we reached the end the sprawling river came into sight. We were at the far end with darkness stretching into the distance to our left, ahead it was possible to vaguely make out the shadowy shape of an island in the middle of the water, and the bank on the far side. A small boat with multi-coloured lanterns coasted towards the shore as we turned to the right, heading towards the evening bustle.
Sellers offered rides on the small, lantern-lit boats, or the chance to place a small paper boat into the river, a single candle on-board would flicker into the distance (a beautiful sight, but which I can now only look at and see the environmental damage it would cause). Crossing over to Cam Nam island, the bridge gave the impression of being pedestrianised until a flurry of bicycles and motorbikes zoomed across, causing you to jump to the side. Obviously the happening place to be at night time, a row of pubs, clubs and restaurants looked out onto the river. This was an interesting juxtaposition for the peaceful ambience set by the wooden boats gently floating along the water.
After stopping for a drink, and to take in the effects of international tourism on life in Hoi An, we made our way back across the bridge in search of a car back to our accommodation.
The following day while I stayed by the beach, taking the chance to catch up with a good friend who was also visiting Hoi An, mum and Ian took another trip to the Ancient Town. They returned with tales of a bustling tourist town, some parts enjoyable, some less so. Getting the chance to see some of its beautiful history, but also overcome with the tourist consumed atmosphere, constantly hassled to purchase this item or that, this tour or that.
We left feeling that it was indeed a beautiful place, with the perfect mixture of beach and town, but with the unfortunate downside that it was now a little hard to see the town for the people.
