I was greeted by Karen yelling “GOOD MORNING VIETNAM!” the moment she woke up. I was genuinely impressed that she’d remembered to say it at all, let alone at the correct volume.
I must confess that, from our cupboard window, Vietnam didn’t look dramatically different from anywhere else we’ve docked on this trip. Sea, sky, ship bits. Familiar.
We were booked on the complimentary transport into Nha Trang at 9.30am, so we sensibly made breakfast by 8.15am and ate it outside on deck in glorious weather. A very civilised start.
Once again, everyone with the same transport time gathered in the World Stage, where we were politely asked to leave in an orderly fashion when called. Once again, this descended almost immediately into a total free-for-all. Excursion staff tried valiantly to impose some control, but even when they physically blocked people, they were simply barged around. I genuinely don’t know what possesses some people. It was obvious transport had been laid on. It was equally obvious we’d all be travelling in convoy. Rushing achieved nothing.
Somehow, for the umpteenth time, we were first allocated to a coach — number 21 — meaning we had our usual pick of seats. We were about to claim the front row again when I noticed a disabled gentleman just behind us, so I ushered him forward and we sat directly behind instead. Amazingly, with just one leg, he hauled himself onto the coach using upper body strength far more nimbly than either Karen or I managed with our full complement of limbs.
It was about a 90-minute journey to Nha Trang. The port sits within a large military base and it took some time to exit, though this did mean passing some stunning, deserted shoreline with beautiful sand — prime real estate for future “exclusive resort” use, I imagine.
Vietnamese flags were everywhere, closely matched by flags of the ruling Communist Party. This is probably the first genuinely communist country I’ve visited, albeit one with very definite capitalist leanings.
Our guide explained that despite the heat, locals often cover up from head to toe. This is considered their cold season; in summer it regularly exceeds 40°C. More importantly, pale skin is seen as desirable, so sun exposure is avoided at all costs. We saw plenty of teenagers wearing thick fleeces and jeans. The only concession to reality was footwear: flip-flops or Crocs appeared to be mandatory.
We were also taught how to cross the road — essential knowledge. Basically, you step out (within reason), raise your arm, and traffic flows around you. Karen was understandably dubious when faced with our first four-lane crossing, but it worked perfectly.
The coach dropped us near a hotel and we walked down to the seafront, which was genuinely beautiful. Palm-lined, shaded, a wide bay, plenty of places to sit. There were lots of holidaymakers about, yet the town didn’t feel aggressively touristy — no tat shops, no obvious rip-offs, just a few bars and local coffee places dotted sensibly along the front.
The guide had recommended we try weasel coffee, made from beans that have been eaten and… processed… by a weasel. For reasons known only to her, the usually adventurous Karen declined this culinary opportunity, having instead spotted a Starbucks on the promenade. Sadly for her, they didn’t sell weasel coffee either, so she settled for a normal latte, enjoyed outside in what was now serious heat. The temperature claimed to be 25°C but felt at least ten degrees hotter.
I was keen not to push Karen too far today — no point damaging her further and “croccing herself up” for the rest of the trip — so we kept things gentle.
Eventually, we wandered another mile to the Lotus Towers, where we took the obligatory tourist photos. Almost opposite, we were presented with a choice between interesting Asian cafés or McDonald’s. After almost no deliberation whatsoever, we chose McDonald’s, changed the ordering screen to English, and had lunch.
Our coach pickup was at 3pm, and — as ever — Karen became increasingly anxious about missing it, so we began the return walk in good time. On the way we passed some lovely trees festooned with artificial blossom for Chinese New Year, outside a small shopping centre. The air-conditioning lured us in for a “very quick browse” which became slightly less quick when Karen tried on a pair of Skechers slip-on Arch Fit trainers for post-op life. At 2.2 million dong she eventually decided against them… a decision she immediately regretted. We’ll try again in Hong Kong.
Back at the meeting hotel it was chaotic, with passengers from all the coaches milling around. We were rescued by Lois and Superman (Chris), who had secured a table and invited us to join them in exchange for me “fixing” her phone. I thought I had. I hadn’t. This will require another attempt.
Our coach arrived on time and the return journey was uneventful. Once back on board we headed straight to the Lido pool, where I had a couple of Somersby ciders and Karen sampled a Toblerone cocktail, which she very much approved of.
By 6.45pm we had been back in our cupboard, changed, and in the Dining Room. I had the ribs, Karen the beef — both perfectly acceptable, if not memorable.
Just after 8pm we returned to the Lido pool, where Jose had organised an impromptu open-air pool party, relocating the Rolling Stone Lounge band for the night. Officers were invited too. The band, as always, were excellent and got almost everyone dancing — including us, despite Karen’s hip.
During a break, Jose took over and led line dancing from the very edge of the pool. Everyone collectively held their breath as he teetered dangerously close, but — disappointingly or fortunately — he did not fall in.
We then noticed Lois and her Superman dancing directly in front of us, effortlessly outshining people some fifty years younger. When Chris paused for breath, Lois simply abandoned him and made a beeline for various officers instead. Karen remarked that Lois is the single best advert for hip replacements she’s ever seen.
The night wrapped up around 10.30pm and we descended to the depths of the ship and our little cupboard. We may not have gone where we thought we were going today, but it had been another really good day.
