Typhoons and Landslides

The typhoon was expected to hit Na Trang on Saturday night so we booked an over-night bus ticket to Hoi An. At 7:30pm the bus picked us up and we made our way north along the coast. Darkness gusted in stronger winds and we could feel the bus shake as it hugged mountains on one side and a churning ocean on the other. About three hours into the trip we slowed down, I woke up and saw a bus infront of us slwoly turning around. There was a stir amongst the crowd of people onboard. A landslide the size of a small mountain stretched across the sea and crumbled over the road into the ocean. After a heated discussion that I couldn't understand, the bus crew decided to turn the bus around, inch by inch on the narrow road. The three point turn took atleast twenty minutes, during which time I contemplated death--death by landslide or by the sea...?

I thought perhaps we would head back into Nha Trang, or find shelter elsewhere for the night. I guess we turned around just for gas and bathroom because before too long we were back in nearly the same place. Waiting four hours on the bus for a crew to clear the road, windows and doors clamped shut to protect us from gusting typhoon winds and rains, made for a miserable night. I thought I might suffocate. And again I contemplated death. Suffocation seemed to be the worst option and just as I wondered if I could get off the bus and try to sleep outside, the bus started up and headed toward Hoi An.


The floods had receded in Hoi An and the ancient town with narrow cobbled roads, wooden houses hundreds of years old, and temples and Chinese Assembly Halls on every street corner was buzzing with tourists. Sarah and I wandered through the market, tried a local food specialty. Banh Xeo is a rice crepe thats rolled and fried with shrimp and bean sprouts. We walked along the river, drunk with rain and spilling over the streets at high tide. Only a week before our arrival, our hotel, 5 streets off the waterfront was flooded as high as the reception desk. In the afternoon, we ran into Laura and Ashley, friends we met on the Mekong River. The travel community in Asia is quite small and its been fun to see the same people in different places throughout. We joined the couple for dinner that night at Miss Ly's Cafeteria where we sampled more local food specialies--fried wonton and the white rose.

Perhaps what I loved most about Hoi An was the moss, fat on the sides of ancient homes, the tiled roofs, and the bogs infront of every pagoda and temple. I love the colors--neon pinks, yellows, reds and purples of the Chinese lanterns, handmade shoes and the plethora of cloth shops. The market, teeming with energy, sales, and colorful produce-splashes of color and texture, it smells like the fish that splash in tubs shared with bound frogs, snails and crabs- the sea smell offset with the stark and pleasant wisps of incense that drift lazily down the streets, lighted at every family alter.