After a ridiculously long journey to the beautiful ancient town of Hoi An, a trip that extended from a tolerable 9 hours to a 36 hour epic, with lost luggage, early morning wake up calls, long waits in the Ho Chi Minh domestic airport, and a series of queues, Chinese whispers and broken sleep, we arrived!
I’m sure many travellers have experienced flights that have gone awry due to unforeseen delays and this trip will go down as a legendary journey. At some point along the way, I entered a state of suspended animation, the only way to survive in these situations. Enter the walking zombie stuck in a time loop, drifting through an overly bright land of marble and garish Singaporean lighting, accompanied by loud piano muzac, as the luggage goes around and around, and none of it is yours, and the help desks offer none. There’s more to this saga but I’ll spare you, dear reader.
It always amazes me how quickly aching bones recover and zombie memories fade. The palate is excited once again and new colours enliven the soul. The tropical heat caresses the skin as the sun goes down and it’s time to go walking. It doesn’t take long to fall in love with Hôi An.
A cooking class for two is booked: Mr T will learn once again how to make delicious dishes that he vows to make at home one day! The best vegetarian restaurant in the world, well maybe at least in Hoi An, has been sampled, and the local beer slides down too easily on a hot and humid day.
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