Everything was fine. It was fine. Yes, it was fine.
OK, it wasn’t fine. I’ve stayed in some horrible places, but this took things to a new level. The room hadn’t been serviced since the last person, and I don’t think the wet room had ever been cleaned. It wasn’t so much the hair in the sink, or the taps that came off in your hands, but the mould crawling up the wall. I swear it moved. I knew from past experience that a terrible hotel was a recipe for not enjoying a place (c.f. Otres Beach), but I didn’t want to spend part of my two days looking for a new one – I knew that prices were quite high here because it’s a popular tourist spot. I’d noticed a “Travel Lodge” opposite, but prices on TripAdvisor were outside my budget. I decided on a maximum and went over. Got a basement room. The hotel’s only been open three months. It’s spotless. A bit outside my budget, but instantly I knew I’d made the right decision.
Suddenly, I liked Hoi An a whole lot more (and I’d liked it the previous evening). Towns in Asia have all been kind of similar – dusty streets, concrete (Vietnam) or wooden (Cambodia) houses, work and personal life intertwined. Hoi An was completely different. French colonial architecture dominated, especially in the old town:
Bustling, but with a sense of calm and a happy vibe. I liked it. I wanted to stay longer. A quick call to Hai and I extended my stay.
Tang Ky is an example of the old style merchant house incorporating Japanese, Chinese and Vietnamese influences as, once upon a time, they lived here side-by-side. It’s also completely restored. Again. Interesting how the concept of “maintaining historical buildings” differs by country.
Long and narrow, goods were brought in from the river on one side, and sold at the street on the other. No windows made it very dark (but there would have been houses each side originally).
Confucius’ cup. You may have heard of the ancient Chinese philospher Confucius. Well, he came across a cup. When you fill it up, it empties. To drink from it, you have to fill it only 80%. The physics are interesting. It has two columns; when filled, liquid rises above the chamber of the second column, spills through the chamber and out of the bottom of the cup. Hydro-static pressure creates a siphon and empties the entire cup. By filling it only 80%, the system isn’t triggered.
The psychological aspects of it are more interesting. It teaches us moderation. We constantly strive for one hundred percent – to do it all, have it all and be it all. But what if 80 percent was enough, accepting that ourselves and others don’t have to be perfect. Taking the pressure off, no longer striving for perfection. Wouldn’t that be kinda nice. Isn’t eighty percent more than enough?
“Sam!”
Someone knew my name. But I was in Hoi An. It was Joan – I’d met her and her son in Saigon and we’d gone to the War Remnants Museum together. She was great fun to be with, but had had to leave straight after our visit to go to Vung Tau (I’d have made a stop there too, if I hadn’t been seriously running out of time). And here she was – right in front of me in Hoi An. Small world.
So after an afternoon spent wandering the beautiful streets of Hoi An:
Marvelling at the buildings:
And buying a little backpack (my bumbag can’t hold much water, and it’s hard on the hands holding a 1.5l bottle):
… we met up for the evening. The place was buzzing, lanterns filled the world:
.. and we wandered. I really like it here. Glad I’m staying an extra day.