My next batch of traveling began late on a Friday night; I bid my sister goodbye and sprinted to the airport to meet Vy, who traveled with me earlier to Ninh Binh. Vy hails from the small seaside town of Nha Trang, and graciously agreed to show me around her home turf for a weekend.
We arrived in Nha Trang aboard the only on-time VietJet flight in the last 5 years; it was a good omen for the coming weekend. As responsible adults with a tour booked the following morning, we knew we needed to sleep as soon as we arrived in the hotel, so we proceeded to chat until well past midnight (oops!). Incidentally, our hotel room lacked a feature I didn't realize was optional: windows! Normally this would have been fine, but with my forgotten phone charger and Vy's habit of muting her alarms, the lack of a sunrise alarm did not bode well for our 6:30am wakeup time. Fortunately, we did manage to wake up - only 30 minutes late :-)
The best of treats awaited us the next morning: more diving! Poor Vy had been subjected to my many diving stories and, knowing Nha Trang is the most famous dive site in Vietnam, had very thoughtfully arranged a tour for us. We had barely sat down to breakfast when the driver called up, and we were shuttled to a nearby harbor stop to take a long boat ride to the coral reef dive site.
The boat ride provided a backdrop for some interesting observations about Nha Trang: firstly, how empty it was! We saw 50+ tour boats, capable of holding hundreds - totally empty, floating in the harbor. Apparently Nha Trang is a hub especially for Chinese tourists, and with the coronavirus situation, Vietnam has stopped granting tourist visas to all Chinese citizens, so the streets and hotels were devoid of tourists. The only people we saw were the remaining Russian tourists, some of whom stayed in our hotel (and I must admit, that many white people at one time gave me quite a shock). While it's a terrible blow to the tourism-based economy, the relative peace made this the perfect time to visit Nha Trang.
As we rode the boat to the dive site, me soaking in every ray of sunlight and Vy crouching in the corner like a cave troll desperate to maintain her fair complexion, I noticed some sort of cheesy island theme park in the distance, complete with a ferris wheel, a massive hotel complex, yet another cable car with a spurious record, and a Hollywood-style sign proclaiming "Vinpearl" on top. This, Vy informed me, was the Vinpearl island, which the corporate behemoth Vingroup developed Vegas-style in a bid to attract even more tourists. The resulting complex was fearsome to say the least, and embodied exactly none of the natural beauty that made the region famous in the first place.
We soon arrived in our dive spot and Vy and I got suited up. We sadly dove separately, as this was Vy's first time and I (with all of 2 days' experience) was somehow allowed to dive 60 feet underwater. As expected, the diving was excellent: camouflaged octopus, bright blue starfish, parrotfish nibbling at coral, one odd-looking fish as thin as a pencil with massive lips, bobbing vertically in the water, spiky sea urchins. After our first dive, we spent the afternoon snorkeling around the bay, and quickly found that a cloud of translucent jellyfish had taken up residence in our spot for the afternoon. These tiny blobs had lines of red and green that would light up when we brushed past. This, however, did not deter us, after I bravely poked one jellyfish and learned it was totally harmless (or at least its venom took >30 seconds to work).
A fish lunch preceded our return to the hotel, where we decided to take a quick nap that accidentally stretched into 3 hours. We woke up to find it time to head to Vy's grandparent's house for dinner. I soon met her cousins, who - after being out of school for the last 2 months - were desperately bored. Vy's college-aged cousin even asked for engineering textbooks to study for fun (what??). After meeting Vy's lovely family, I immediately offended them by asking if Vy's cousin was married to his own mother after seeing a family portrait. My embarrassment did not, however, match his, as his family mercilessly teased him the rest of the night.
Dinner preparations were another story. Giant shrimp were on the menu, which sounded great until I realized that they were very much alive, seemed to have many more legs than I remembered, and needed immediate transfer to the cooking pot. This, I learned from observing Vy's grandfather, involved picking them up by their longest antennae and tossing them to the pot when they start to thrash back and forth, intent on murder (or at least clipping off a toe or two). As this seemed easy enough, I volunteered to help, which I quickly regretted after letting out a girly shriek in the courtyard. Vy's grandfather muttered something, which Vy later translated as "if she can't even manage a shrimp, what can she do?" Not much, sir, not much!
The shrimp conquered, I sat down to dinner. For Vy's grandparents, the addition of a large mat transforms the kitchen floor into a table, and we all sat down to a veritable feast. Unfortunately my estimation of my flexibility is much more favorable than reality, and sitting cross-legged proved feasible for no more than 5 minutes at a time. I shifted around so much that finally Vy's family giggled and told me to sit how I was comfortable, and I sat with my legs out into the corner, blood flow fully restored.
The next morning we woke up early to start our second day out right: with food. Our first meal of the day involved my new favorite food: banh can! This banh can had a special twist, though: instead of mere eggs added to the top, we also had baby octopus (or baby squid? they look the same to me). As always, the ban canh was delicious - so delicious, in fact, that I leaned over my food a bit too far and dipped all my hair in fish sauce. Needless to say, my hair did not make me any friends that day.
We hurried from ban canh to Vy's family home yet again, this time to pick up her family for a seafood brunch far down the coastline. We spent over an hour driving between cliffs and ocean, a fresh breeze wafting my fish sauce smell for all experience. Aside from the fish sauce hair, the drive was lovely.
We arrived in seafood paradise just in time to pick out our prey. Here, as with many Vietnamese seafood restaurants, the fish and shrimp are stored in tanks around the dining area, and guests can go scoop out their victims to ensure only the friendliest-looking shrimp enter their mouths. The waitress calmly demonstrated this process to me after another guest picked out a fish from the tank, and the waitress tossed the fish on the sidewalk outside and nonchalantly beat it with a stick until it stopped flopping around.
While Vy's mother masterfully sorted through clams and snails and fish, I spent my time playing with snails and geoducks. Geoducks are - ah - an interesting-looking seafood that I have never seen before Vietnam. In addition to their unique appearance, they have a tendency to squirt water in self-defense whenever you - er - stroke them. This entertained me for the better part of 10 minutes, after which I finally declared a champion water-squirter.
Above: playing with my food (bottom left is a basket of geoducks).
Our feast finally arrived, full of the freshest seafood I have ever tasted. I had only started eating seafood a few years ago (thanks to Melkon for that introduction), and had never really developed a taste for shellfish. This brunch changed all that: even snails were tender and delicious!
Above: the feast
Sluggish after our overindulgence, our next stop was a fancy coffee shop in an empty resort nearby. We collapsed on big comfy chairs and stared out at the ocean and all of the 2 guests on site. I finally gathered all my energy and dragged myself to a hammock for a slightly more respectable beachside venture (and, if I'm completely honest, for better-looking pictures).
Our sleepiness conquered, we returned to Nha Trang city - Vy's family to their home, and us to the beach for some long-awaited ocean interaction. The price of a beachside chair was a drink, so we ordered whole coconuts to feel fancy. While Vy relaxed on a chair, I got antsy and started building a sandcastle (yes, I'm 5 years old at heart). This is an art I have long practiced at home, with secret techniques passed down by Daddy to us children. Our sandcastles were always named Pearl Harbor, because they needed to withstand the constant onslaught of the ocean (and we usually built them in Hawaii). My sandcastle lived up to its name, and every child who walked past stopped in awe and immediately (and unsuccessfully) tried to replicate my masterpiece.
We also took a dip in the ocean in our clothes - something that I've never done. We fought massive waves and shredded our feet on stray bits of coral, and now my shorts are decidedly gray instead of white, but it was worth it.
Our next stop - unsurprisingly - involved food. We went for a type of food that is known as cứu đói, which loosely translated means "save us from starving food" - in English, a tide-over! I must say, I much prefer the Vietnamese name for this. The most popular food stall selling cứu đói regularly sells out by late afternoon, so we booked it on our scooter, still wet from our swim. Thankfully, there was still some left, and we had 2 types of cứu đói - small noodle bowls that were salty, a little slimy, and utterly delicious.
Above: cứu đói
After a quick shower, it was time for dinner (after all, we had only eaten a tide-over at this point :-) ) - for which we headed to Vy's childhood favorite chicken rice stall. I had pretty low expectations for this one - how fancy can chicken and rice get? - but this too blew me away. The rice was cooked with spices and something that turned it yellow and flavorful, with tender chicken and crisp pickles sprinkled on top, and the icing on top: chicken butter. I was a bit apprehensive of this, which (as far as I understand) is pureed chicken fat, but closed my eyes and mixed it in with the rest of the rice, and voila: heaven.
Above: heaven on earth aka chicken rice feat. classic knee-table interaction
The fantastic chicken rice proved far too distracting, and we spent so long eating that we missed our bus to the airport. Thankfully, the next bus dropped by only 15 minutes later, and we headed back to Saigon, vowing to refrain from eating for the next week to atone for our lack of self-control.
Bonus: teletubbies @ Nha Trang airport???
Vy and I :-)
We arrived in Nha Trang aboard the only on-time VietJet flight in the last 5 years; it was a good omen for the coming weekend. As responsible adults with a tour booked the following morning, we knew we needed to sleep as soon as we arrived in the hotel, so we proceeded to chat until well past midnight (oops!). Incidentally, our hotel room lacked a feature I didn't realize was optional: windows! Normally this would have been fine, but with my forgotten phone charger and Vy's habit of muting her alarms, the lack of a sunrise alarm did not bode well for our 6:30am wakeup time. Fortunately, we did manage to wake up - only 30 minutes late :-)
The best of treats awaited us the next morning: more diving! Poor Vy had been subjected to my many diving stories and, knowing Nha Trang is the most famous dive site in Vietnam, had very thoughtfully arranged a tour for us. We had barely sat down to breakfast when the driver called up, and we were shuttled to a nearby harbor stop to take a long boat ride to the coral reef dive site.
The boat ride provided a backdrop for some interesting observations about Nha Trang: firstly, how empty it was! We saw 50+ tour boats, capable of holding hundreds - totally empty, floating in the harbor. Apparently Nha Trang is a hub especially for Chinese tourists, and with the coronavirus situation, Vietnam has stopped granting tourist visas to all Chinese citizens, so the streets and hotels were devoid of tourists. The only people we saw were the remaining Russian tourists, some of whom stayed in our hotel (and I must admit, that many white people at one time gave me quite a shock). While it's a terrible blow to the tourism-based economy, the relative peace made this the perfect time to visit Nha Trang.
Above: Eastern Europe REPRESENT [Armenia & Moscow in Nha Trang??]
As we rode the boat to the dive site, me soaking in every ray of sunlight and Vy crouching in the corner like a cave troll desperate to maintain her fair complexion, I noticed some sort of cheesy island theme park in the distance, complete with a ferris wheel, a massive hotel complex, yet another cable car with a spurious record, and a Hollywood-style sign proclaiming "Vinpearl" on top. This, Vy informed me, was the Vinpearl island, which the corporate behemoth Vingroup developed Vegas-style in a bid to attract even more tourists. The resulting complex was fearsome to say the least, and embodied exactly none of the natural beauty that made the region famous in the first place.
Above: a very far away Vinpearl, + an up-close version courtesy of the internet
We soon arrived in our dive spot and Vy and I got suited up. We sadly dove separately, as this was Vy's first time and I (with all of 2 days' experience) was somehow allowed to dive 60 feet underwater. As expected, the diving was excellent: camouflaged octopus, bright blue starfish, parrotfish nibbling at coral, one odd-looking fish as thin as a pencil with massive lips, bobbing vertically in the water, spiky sea urchins. After our first dive, we spent the afternoon snorkeling around the bay, and quickly found that a cloud of translucent jellyfish had taken up residence in our spot for the afternoon. These tiny blobs had lines of red and green that would light up when we brushed past. This, however, did not deter us, after I bravely poked one jellyfish and learned it was totally harmless (or at least its venom took >30 seconds to work).
Above: diving, basket-boats, and lunch spot
A fish lunch preceded our return to the hotel, where we decided to take a quick nap that accidentally stretched into 3 hours. We woke up to find it time to head to Vy's grandparent's house for dinner. I soon met her cousins, who - after being out of school for the last 2 months - were desperately bored. Vy's college-aged cousin even asked for engineering textbooks to study for fun (what??). After meeting Vy's lovely family, I immediately offended them by asking if Vy's cousin was married to his own mother after seeing a family portrait. My embarrassment did not, however, match his, as his family mercilessly teased him the rest of the night.
Dinner preparations were another story. Giant shrimp were on the menu, which sounded great until I realized that they were very much alive, seemed to have many more legs than I remembered, and needed immediate transfer to the cooking pot. This, I learned from observing Vy's grandfather, involved picking them up by their longest antennae and tossing them to the pot when they start to thrash back and forth, intent on murder (or at least clipping off a toe or two). As this seemed easy enough, I volunteered to help, which I quickly regretted after letting out a girly shriek in the courtyard. Vy's grandfather muttered something, which Vy later translated as "if she can't even manage a shrimp, what can she do?" Not much, sir, not much!
The shrimp conquered, I sat down to dinner. For Vy's grandparents, the addition of a large mat transforms the kitchen floor into a table, and we all sat down to a veritable feast. Unfortunately my estimation of my flexibility is much more favorable than reality, and sitting cross-legged proved feasible for no more than 5 minutes at a time. I shifted around so much that finally Vy's family giggled and told me to sit how I was comfortable, and I sat with my legs out into the corner, blood flow fully restored.
The next morning we woke up early to start our second day out right: with food. Our first meal of the day involved my new favorite food: banh can! This banh can had a special twist, though: instead of mere eggs added to the top, we also had baby octopus (or baby squid? they look the same to me). As always, the ban canh was delicious - so delicious, in fact, that I leaned over my food a bit too far and dipped all my hair in fish sauce. Needless to say, my hair did not make me any friends that day.
Above: beloved banh can
We hurried from ban canh to Vy's family home yet again, this time to pick up her family for a seafood brunch far down the coastline. We spent over an hour driving between cliffs and ocean, a fresh breeze wafting my fish sauce smell for all experience. Aside from the fish sauce hair, the drive was lovely.
We arrived in seafood paradise just in time to pick out our prey. Here, as with many Vietnamese seafood restaurants, the fish and shrimp are stored in tanks around the dining area, and guests can go scoop out their victims to ensure only the friendliest-looking shrimp enter their mouths. The waitress calmly demonstrated this process to me after another guest picked out a fish from the tank, and the waitress tossed the fish on the sidewalk outside and nonchalantly beat it with a stick until it stopped flopping around.
While Vy's mother masterfully sorted through clams and snails and fish, I spent my time playing with snails and geoducks. Geoducks are - ah - an interesting-looking seafood that I have never seen before Vietnam. In addition to their unique appearance, they have a tendency to squirt water in self-defense whenever you - er - stroke them. This entertained me for the better part of 10 minutes, after which I finally declared a champion water-squirter.
Above: playing with my food (bottom left is a basket of geoducks).
Our feast finally arrived, full of the freshest seafood I have ever tasted. I had only started eating seafood a few years ago (thanks to Melkon for that introduction), and had never really developed a taste for shellfish. This brunch changed all that: even snails were tender and delicious!
Sluggish after our overindulgence, our next stop was a fancy coffee shop in an empty resort nearby. We collapsed on big comfy chairs and stared out at the ocean and all of the 2 guests on site. I finally gathered all my energy and dragged myself to a hammock for a slightly more respectable beachside venture (and, if I'm completely honest, for better-looking pictures).
Above: the fanciest place I have ever had coffee
Our sleepiness conquered, we returned to Nha Trang city - Vy's family to their home, and us to the beach for some long-awaited ocean interaction. The price of a beachside chair was a drink, so we ordered whole coconuts to feel fancy. While Vy relaxed on a chair, I got antsy and started building a sandcastle (yes, I'm 5 years old at heart). This is an art I have long practiced at home, with secret techniques passed down by Daddy to us children. Our sandcastles were always named Pearl Harbor, because they needed to withstand the constant onslaught of the ocean (and we usually built them in Hawaii). My sandcastle lived up to its name, and every child who walked past stopped in awe and immediately (and unsuccessfully) tried to replicate my masterpiece.
Above: master architect
We also took a dip in the ocean in our clothes - something that I've never done. We fought massive waves and shredded our feet on stray bits of coral, and now my shorts are decidedly gray instead of white, but it was worth it.
Our next stop - unsurprisingly - involved food. We went for a type of food that is known as cứu đói, which loosely translated means "save us from starving food" - in English, a tide-over! I must say, I much prefer the Vietnamese name for this. The most popular food stall selling cứu đói regularly sells out by late afternoon, so we booked it on our scooter, still wet from our swim. Thankfully, there was still some left, and we had 2 types of cứu đói - small noodle bowls that were salty, a little slimy, and utterly delicious.
Above: cứu đói
After a quick shower, it was time for dinner (after all, we had only eaten a tide-over at this point :-) ) - for which we headed to Vy's childhood favorite chicken rice stall. I had pretty low expectations for this one - how fancy can chicken and rice get? - but this too blew me away. The rice was cooked with spices and something that turned it yellow and flavorful, with tender chicken and crisp pickles sprinkled on top, and the icing on top: chicken butter. I was a bit apprehensive of this, which (as far as I understand) is pureed chicken fat, but closed my eyes and mixed it in with the rest of the rice, and voila: heaven.
Above: heaven on earth aka chicken rice feat. classic knee-table interaction
The fantastic chicken rice proved far too distracting, and we spent so long eating that we missed our bus to the airport. Thankfully, the next bus dropped by only 15 minutes later, and we headed back to Saigon, vowing to refrain from eating for the next week to atone for our lack of self-control.
Bonus: teletubbies @ Nha Trang airport???
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