We had been excited for Hoi An for some time, as it was alleged to have beautiful buildings, a peaceful riverfront and, most importantly, DANK food. It lived up to our expectations on all three fronts. The streets were lined with romantic overarching trees and the buildings had subtle French influences. The river overflowed at night, pouring water into the streets and raising the boats to the level of the bridge.
When we arrived, we mounted our ponchos, rolled up our leggings and hit the knee-high flood waters in search of life’s greatest pleasure: strawberry tarts. Cargo, our restaurant of choice, delivered again and again and again. In fact, it delivered every day for a week. We fattened our already FAT A$$ES with seared ahi tuna, Chilean sea bass, mashed potatoes, quesadillas, fried camembert cheese, chocolate croissants, cheesecake, ice cream, greek salad…you get the picture. You name it, we ate it. By the end of our week our only friends were the resident baker and our favorite Vietnamese waitress (and we’re still trying to figure out a way to smuggle her back to the states, come to think of it, she could probably fit in a suitcase… hmm. Interesting…).
When we weren’t eating we were shopping, but not for ourselves. The trade of the town was custom made clothing, and given that Cam and Coco are returning to the east coast in the fall (WAHOO!), it was only necessary that we design Coco two custom made doggie coats (barf). The Vietnamese lady at the clothing shop became our second best friend.
When we weren’t shopping or eating we were visiting Hoi An’s beaches and temples. Mae Son, an ancient site with ruins and few tourists, provided a nice day trip rife with more rain and Dutch freaks. We also spent time at the beach, playing soccer with local kids and dodging waves that were just a little too large for comfort. We had seen nicer beaches, but were glad to be back on the sand.
To commemorate our last day in one of our favorite towns, we bought tiny doughnut-sized (yes, everything revolves around food) conical bamboo hats and fastened them to our fat heads with purple and blue ribbons. Some thought we were a funny tourist attraction, but we were merely celebrating Vietnamese culture. Some laughed with us, while some laughed at us. And some just laughed. Jen fit right in on her home continent and Cam vowed to keep searching for her inner Asian self (which wasn’t very far away).
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