We finally bid adieu to Hanoi and flew to Danang airport. During the flight, we sat next to a friendly American man, Sam, from L.A. In between jobs, he was traveling around Vietnam and regaled us with some of his tales. When Arianne tried to shock him with her tale of the 80% male flight to Bangkok and her strong suspicion that they were traveling for sex tourism, Sam just responded, "Well, maybe I should find a girlfriend so when I go there I won't be harassed by prostitutes." We just nodded. The flirt bait was out, but we weren't biting. Sam didn't press any further, probably suspecting that the two American women traveling together were indeed a couple.
A car from our hotel, Ha An, met us to drive the 39km to Hoi An, a beautiful seaside town largely untouched by the successive wars. Our hotel itself was set in a lush private garden just a few steps from the Old City, home to more than 500 custom tailor shops.
After a quick lunch of fish, fried spinach, and rice, we proceeded to walk about town admiring the many shops and farmers market. After scoffing about how we would not succumb to the tourist traps, we found ourselves in a random store looking at beautiful fabrics with Vietnamese women eagerly taking our measurements. $70 later, Arianne had ordered two beautiful dresses suitable for the upcoming summer wedding season.
That night we dined at Mango Rooms, a Mick Jagger favorite, according to Lonely Planet. It did not disappoint. At this open-air tiny restaurant (that allows you to walk through the kitchen, just in case you had any concerns about the hygiene), we feasted on fresh seared tuna, fresh spring rolls, a mango citrus salad, and two cocktails, Pinky (with passion and dragon fruits) and the Mango Daiquiri.
Afterward, we followed the loud music and voices to Before & Now, a pseudo-hipster Euro Pop- style bar. Just as we prepared to settle down with our Tiger Beer for some people watching, a trio of men about our age descended the steep staircase. They looked starkly out of place...and yet oddly familiar. Where had we seen these dudes before? I hadn't believed the stories to be true, but my classmates swore up and down that you could not go anywhere in the world without running into your fellow HBS-mates. Arianne groaned, having been happy to avoid the sense of familiarity for more than a week. She quickly glanced down, hoping not to be noticed, and warned Wisam of incoming trouble. Lucky for us, the threesome could not be bothered to have noticed anything more than their own hubris and did not engage us in an awkward convo. The trifecta was led by an open-shirted, fake-n-baked Rico Suave who shall not be named...for the purposes of this entry we will call him HBS Douchebag. Suddenly mesmerized, we watched as he strode up to a young (possibly American) woman who looked to be no older than eighteen. He charmed her and her less attractive friend and promptly guided them to a more private table in the back of the bar, minions in tow. Arianne rolled her eyes predictably, and glanced the other direction just in time to see our friend from the Hoi An flight, Sam, enter the bar with a beautiful Dutch woman named Emma. He was clearly smitten, greeting us and introducing her. After catching up, we went back to our private conversation while Sam put the moves on Emma.
Downing a few more drinks, we made our way back to Ha An for bedtime. By comparison, this proved one of the latest nights we spent out and about.
Click here for Complete Hoi An Pics
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