My final full day in Hoi An and a day full of memories. Off once more on the bicycle out of the town and into the lush countryside beyond.
Cycling down the river bank this morning under the blue skies, gazing at the fishing boats moored outside the houses, waving to families gathering to clean, paint and cook for Tet, I realised I had company; a beautiful blue butterfly was drifting along beside me, drawn to the green bag hanging from the handlebars. Together we pottered along the rutted banks until the path ran out…bemused, I stopped to catch my breath, and in the garden of the end shack a family came out and invited me in to sit down with them,, allowing me kindly to use their own ‘bathroom’ and offering sweet hot tea. I insisted on paying for the bottle of water they offered me, which they accepted with much delight.
The genuine kindness of the people here, always keen to offer directions, always happy to help, without wanting anything in return, puts my Englishness to shame, it ‘s a lesson I will take back home with me.
Back to the hotel I now think of as home for a welcome cuppa (Liptons tea on tap here) and then out again, heading the other side of the river around which the town is based, and the source of its original prosperity as an international trading port before the river silted up. Today the water still gives life here, the landscape littered with market gardens, fishing lakes, ponds and rice paddies.
By sheer chance I came across a village which has cooperative helping finances offering tourists boat tours around the coconut groves in bamboo baskets (coracles). As I was the only tourist in sight, I was greeted with such glee it seemed rude not to take a ride, especially as a 40 minute trip worked out at less than £2.50.
Presented proudly with a bamboo hat and, bizarrely, a lifejacket, I was escorted carefully into the circular vessel and spun out into the green waters by the smallest little old lady, I felt like the jolly green giant as the diverse greens from the groves and the waters reflected through the oars waves onto my face.
The quiet stillness of the dense vegetation and the cool breeze was a balm to the soul. No picture can capture the colours or the sensation of becoming one with nature.
All too soon I was back on the river bank, and cycling back for one last wander along the now darkening streets of the town. The shops are shut, the jostling market closed, as the annual holiday begins tomorrow…the carnival is beginning. I wish I was here to see the Tet festival, having watched the preparations in awe and admiration, but tomorrow I leave for Hanoi. In England my decision to see in the Lunar New Year here in a capitol city looks wise, now I wonder if I should have stayed in this small town which I have grown to love. Who knows-it is what it is; or rather it will be what it will be…
Cycling down the river bank this morning under the blue skies, gazing at the fishing boats moored outside the houses, waving to families gathering to clean, paint and cook for Tet, I realised I had company; a beautiful blue butterfly was drifting along beside me, drawn to the green bag hanging from the handlebars. Together we pottered along the rutted banks until the path ran out…bemused, I stopped to catch my breath, and in the garden of the end shack a family came out and invited me in to sit down with them,, allowing me kindly to use their own ‘bathroom’ and offering sweet hot tea. I insisted on paying for the bottle of water they offered me, which they accepted with much delight.
The genuine kindness of the people here, always keen to offer directions, always happy to help, without wanting anything in return, puts my Englishness to shame, it ‘s a lesson I will take back home with me.
Back to the hotel I now think of as home for a welcome cuppa (Liptons tea on tap here) and then out again, heading the other side of the river around which the town is based, and the source of its original prosperity as an international trading port before the river silted up. Today the water still gives life here, the landscape littered with market gardens, fishing lakes, ponds and rice paddies.
By sheer chance I came across a village which has cooperative helping finances offering tourists boat tours around the coconut groves in bamboo baskets (coracles). As I was the only tourist in sight, I was greeted with such glee it seemed rude not to take a ride, especially as a 40 minute trip worked out at less than £2.50.
Presented proudly with a bamboo hat and, bizarrely, a lifejacket, I was escorted carefully into the circular vessel and spun out into the green waters by the smallest little old lady, I felt like the jolly green giant as the diverse greens from the groves and the waters reflected through the oars waves onto my face.
The quiet stillness of the dense vegetation and the cool breeze was a balm to the soul. No picture can capture the colours or the sensation of becoming one with nature.
All too soon I was back on the river bank, and cycling back for one last wander along the now darkening streets of the town. The shops are shut, the jostling market closed, as the annual holiday begins tomorrow…the carnival is beginning. I wish I was here to see the Tet festival, having watched the preparations in awe and admiration, but tomorrow I leave for Hanoi. In England my decision to see in the Lunar New Year here in a capitol city looks wise, now I wonder if I should have stayed in this small town which I have grown to love. Who knows-it is what it is; or rather it will be what it will be…
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