We were meant to arrive at 5am. Thanks to the vagaries of Vietnamese rail, we pulled in to Nha Trang at 7.30 instead. Far more reasonable. An obliging chap climbed a metal ladder to hold up a live mains cable so we could walk beneath to exit the train station.....we haven't asked for a translation, because we think that the concept of OH&S hasn't arrived here and anyway is probably at odds with the push-ahead-at-all-costs ethos we've observed.
Having checked in to our "day room" (this is a welcome concept, so when you arrive too early or are leaving too late, you share access to a room between four people which permits luggage storage, showers, toilets, and the opportunity to read/relax/recharge essential electronic devices etc), we selected our days pursuits.
Tracey did the girl thing and went to the mud baths with 7 others from the group. First you shower to clean before they pour your mud bath...yep, need to keep the mud clean. The mud is slippery and there is no way to be glamorous as you wallow in it. All eight of us share the "bath". We have ladles to pour the mud over our head and shoulders. It supposed to make you look 10 years younger...not sure when it kicks in. Though it is difficult to discern age, gender, race etc when you are covered head to toe in mud.
Next you shower again to remove most of the mud, it is impossible to get it all out of your swimwear and crevices during phase 1 of the cleaning. Phase 2, you walk through a stone wall passage with jets of water coming from all directions, some jets were very personal indeed. Still not clean enough, phase 3 is the hot tub soaking. It feels like 50 degrees outside the tub, inside the tub feel only slightly below boiling point. Phase 4 a massaging waterfall, thankfully with cool water. We then have a choice of a 39 degree swimming pool or 26 degrees, clearly the later was chosen. Mostly clean by now. When an icy mango daiquiri was offered, certainly it was just for medicinal purposes to bring down the body temperature.
Meanwhile, Andrew got all mannish and went with Bazza (New Zealander) and Colin (Scottish) to play golf. Diamond Bay: first ever genuine Championship course, with a caddy per player.......and endless acres of white sand. There were moments of glory, and many of strong rebuke from the golf gods who clearly were unimpressed at the chutzpah of so unaccomplished a player attempting the challenge. But wow, what an experience.
Day Two was all about the sea. We embarked on a comfortable old wooden craft, with Thi our local guide for the day. He was at pains for us to not confuse him with Mr T, who he tells us is a friend. Thi was loads of fun, with good jokes and better timing.
We were taken across the bay to a local fishing village on a small island which we traversed and got a better look into the local mode of life. These cuttlefish, having been bathed in chilli and garlic, are being partially dried for one day only, following which they'll be pickled. A single day in that sun would be enough to fully dry any of us, those cuttlefish are hardy types indeed.
The pick up point is on the other side of the island. This bay is much shallower here and boat is moored 50m offshore. How to get to our boat? gee, let's ride in a large floating basket that has been sealed by cow poop (a coracle).
The woman who rowed us to our boat did so with good humour. Particularly when Andrew tried to row the 'basket'..."row faster, row faster...no, you too slow, I row".
Having arrived safely at our vessel, we head out to the snorkelling site. On go the flippers and mask and it is time for the cooling reprieve of the South China Sea. The sea life and coral are much better than expected. Plenty of colour and schools of fish, sea cucumber and a really funky langoustine-like critter with frondy anntennae and stripey claws. The large blue jellyfish pulsing its way through the water with glimpses of tiny fish swimming inside was particularly memorable.
Having flippered up some hunger, lunch is prepared. Again they are trying to feed a small army and we all consume barely a third of what is provided. It was a delicious banquet prepared in a makeshift kitchen on the boat. The women who helped prepare our food is also a masseuse and manicurist. Tracey never having had a manicure or pedicure before decides for around $10 it was worth being just a little bit girly.
We'd been nervously looking forward to this sort of thing: there are little carts (well polished) every ten metres here, and so we took aim at one and did our best to order Vietnamese pork buns. We like to think we overcame the language barrier, and our hostess was most graceful as she navigated us through options.
Verdict: fabulous value (~$2.50 for two), the chilli pork with freshly omelette winning out. Both decent though and, for anyone wondering about the food hygiene of street food, no consequences.
To round out the visit on our final morning we walked (how virtuous) to an old Hindu temple nearby. It's been very sympathetically restored, so much so that the throngs of selfie-stick-wielding tourists nearly obscured our own tourist-camera-wielding impulses.
Of course, not all of Nha Trang is beautiful and ready for tourists. Our walk back for the temples, past every car, motorbike and scooter repair shop reminded us of Moonah and Parrametta Rd.....the really nice bits of both.
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