We returned to Phin Coffee for our morning cup. The events of the day before had proven that when you find a good thing, you stick with it–novelty be damned.
Everything we want to try or do is closed for the Lunar New Year celebrations. If y’all thought we took Christmas seriously, you ain’t seen nothin’. People here take a full week and a half off work for Tết. But it’s not just people; businesses will close for two, even three, weeks sometimes. We will walk halfway across town for a restaurant, only to be greeted by a sign saying that it won’t be open again until mid-February. Even doctors’ offices close their doors for a couple of weeks. So it wasn’t surprising when our planned lunch spot had a sign saying it was closed for Tết. Fortunately, the place next door, What Else? Cafe, was taking this opportunity to poach some business.
The small restaurant had a cute, florid courtyard, and Hoi An was keeping it’s perfect record of balmy temps, so we sat outside. After the pizza and creamy Indian food from yesterday, I was craving something light. My green mango salad with grilled shrimp was what I needed. It had big chunks of not-green mango as well. I couldn’t help but wonder if that was because some ignorant westerners complained that there wasn’t any mango, not recognizing it’s shaved, green form. Aaron finally got to try some banh xeo, which he’d been talking about ever since he read a short description in our guide book. Per our guide: banh xeo is “crispy savoury pancakes rolled with herbs in fresh rice paper.” Another perfect record Hoi An was keeping was “most edible food.” We had yet to have a meal here that we didn’t like, this one included.
The closest beach to Hoi An is only a few kilometers away, at An Bang. Our long, scenic walk there took us through rice paddies and buffalo fields. The beach itself was not impressive, but I’ve been spoiled by growing up in a state on the Gulf. The sand was a dirty brown color, and the water was gray-ish. It was also threatening to rain now. Restaurants along the shore were putting away their beach chairs. We decided to try our luck on the upstairs deck of the Deckhouse. It was windy and a bit chilly up there, but we got to enjoy our mojitos and piña coladas with an unimpeded view of the ocean.
Dinner was a bit difficult. We had already tried most of the places that weren’t closed for the Lunar New Year. We spent at least an hour chasing potentially open restaurants, only to give up and go to the first place with people in it. Good Morning Vietnam was, incomprehensibly, an Italian restaurant. It was–as you may have predicted from the name and cuisine combo–not very good. But, any port in a storm. The food was food. The wine was wine.
On our walk back to the guesthouse, we were waylaid by a woman trying to get us on to one of the many lanterned rowboats that cruise the river at night. Usually, our policy is not to buy anything from the aggressive sellers, but we negotiated a price with her. She led us to our boat, festooned with glowing blossoms and multi-colored lights. It wasn’t the twenty-minute ride our hawker promised, and the rower asked for twice the amount we’d negotiated, but it was a lovely little tourist trap while it lasted.
We crossed the river for one last nightcap after our ride, and listened to the competing live bands at the restaurants along the banks.
Hanoimoon 