Hoi An (2) and Da Nang

If I define the weather as good, I can also ride a bike. I'm trying my luck with Schrotti 2. After half an hour, a shower comes, and I have to take a break right away. The first destination is a lighthouse that doesn't meet expectations. By the way, you can wear as much rain gear as you want; you'll still get wet inside due to the humidity. I cycle to the Old Town of Hội An and try the supposedly best Banh Mi at Madame Khanh, modestly dubbed the Queen of Banh Mi. To be fair, it was really good. Ranek is also in the old town, and we go to a café to then look around the small city center. Chinese and Japanese temples, bridges, and such, a small museum about local culture. Suddenly, heavy rain again, and we head into the nearest restaurant, as the river is almost overflowing. In Hội An, it is a thing to have clothes tailored; almost everyone from the hostel does that, especially the women. I don’t need a suit or shirts. Before it gets dark, it's back. Yes, that wasn’t the best idea. There are a few Moroccans staying at the hostel; they are very quiet, but today they are cooking chicken tajine. Super delicious and good vibes. Ralf from Stadtroda has lived in Martin's other house for half a year. Interesting story: combat swimmer, fleeing the Republic with Stasi prison, world travels, Turkish ex-wife, painter, etc. He misses the point where storytelling becomes too much.

New day. Ranek and I have booked a driver to take us to the ruins of My Son. 7th to 14th century, that’s more my thing. Hindu ruins of the Cham ethnic group. Architecture like in Angkor Wat. Only these peoples used bricks instead of stone. These bricks are 1000 years old and in very good condition. No cement was used; somehow the stones grow together over time. It was the Americans who dropped bombs here. Interestingly, Poles tried to restore them in the 80s. Their bricks are crumbling, and no one knows how these bricks were made. Also, the Cham language has not yet been deciphered. The guide talks about the surplus of men in Vietnam (actually, for every 100 girls, 111 boys are born). The reason is that only boys carry on the ancestor cult. Martin's girlfriend takes great care of the hostel and the guests. Fat rats scurry across the street repeatedly. I make a fake booking for Martin to leave a review. Honestly, most of the reviews are not real. Officially, he is not allowed to work here and must keep leaving Vietnam briefly to get a new tourist visa. I wish them good luck. In the evening, I drive a bit back north to Da Nang. I’m starting to think about Jena more often.

Second to last Wednesday. I've had a headache for the second day in a row, some infection. Ranek's girlfriend has been bedridden for days at the homestay; maybe he somehow infected me, or it was cycling in the rain. In the morning, I go to the local market and buy noodles, limes, bananas, Banh bread, 10 eggs, and herbs from the vendors. At the homestay, I can use the kitchen, which helps me get through the day. A little sun is visible; how nice. The beach is actually great, but there are very high waves, and swimming is still not allowed. So I only wade in up to my knees and lounge around a bit on the beach. My self-cooked lunch doesn’t look so bad at all. The highlight of the day is the Marble Mountains, a limestone mountain with marble. As always, there are Buddhist pagodas here, with many marble statues. And viewpoints and caves. There is also the Dang Am Phu cave, huge, and it's raining inside. It has something to do with hell; there are 7 levels of hell in Buddhism. The cave goes deep, and everywhere there are demons torturing people. In the evening, I walk to the Night Market and the Dragon Bridge. It's designed like a dragon, changes colors, and on weekends the dragon breathes fire.

In the morning, I let myself be driven to Lady Buddha. A monastery complex with a gigantic female Buddha statue and many pagodas and temples. In my ignorance, I wanted to go to Monkey Mountain, but it's too far to reach by motorcycle rider. So, a little hike along a stream, occasionally I see monkeys and avoid them. I find them eerie. I return with a female driver; there’s very strong wind, so I have brief moments of fear. Shop a little more at the market and go to the beach. It's high tide, and almost the entire beach is covered with water. Huge waves with the wind. Da Nang is already a larger city, many high-rises and large hotel complexes. But also many abandoned hotel facilities and construction ruins. I pass the time again playing games. Then it's off to Da Lat by plane. At the hostel, I exceptionally booked a single room. I still walk through the city for a bit, do some shopping, and eat Pho Ga.

Flying was not a good idea. It costs more than twice as much as the night bus. Plus, you have to get to the airport and need a transfer from Da Lat airport to the hostel (30 km). With the bus, I could have saved an overnight stay and would have had the afternoon free instead of being at the airport. The bus is from hostel to hostel; you get in, sleep, and arrive in the morning. The only advantage is that you see Vietnam from above. Lots of water, and some areas near the rivers are still flooded. You could really live well in Vietnam. Just like Martin, working semi-legally is not good. The language is also a barrier to becoming at home here. Nice idea, but unrealistic.