In which Roz and Layla paddle through palm groves and cook a very, very large meal

By Roz

There's something strange and yet quite fun about arriving into a new city late at night. And all the more so in Vietnam, where there is a commendable enthusiasm for going to bed early, meaning the streets are deserted by eleven at night. So arriving into the town of Hoian at midnight, we felt like we were swooping into a ghost town. But one which was beautifully lit with lanterns and felt strangely magical. 

The feeling of magic continued when we arrived at our hotel. Our taxi drew up at a strangely palatial place, with doormen, a facade and a general impression of luxury. In notable contrast to our hotel in Hanoi, which had had a lobby full of sleeping staff when we arrived. I prepared to explain to our taxi driver that he had taken us to the wrong place when I realised that he hadn't. In a happy turn of events we'd accidentally booked a fabulous hotel for hardly any money. I suspect that this is the first and last time in my life that this will happen. We fell into bed - having drunk our free welcome cocktail - with a giggle of glee. 

Next morning we woke feeling just as cheery, and jigged our way down to a delightful breakfast (cornflakes, fruit, pancakes, oh my!) before heading into town. The main street - arrived at through the old Japanese covered bridge, which is like no Japanese bridge I have ever seen, but is otherwise very pretty - is full of old buildings and cute shops. We pottered in, buying the odd picture and such like and then resolved to go for coffee. But before we made it to coffee, I got lured into a tailor's shop and found myself ordering a spring jacket and choosing fabrics before I could really think twice. And it turned out to be such fun, musing on the respective merits of different materials, linings and styles. Over coffee and then a delicious lunch at the lovely Roastery we marvelled at my impulsiveness (and indeed enthusiasm for clothes shopping - I haven't actually been into a clothes shop since moving to Tokyo almost a year ago) and generally felt very cheery.

After lunch we went back to the hotel to slather on sun lotion ahead of something I had been dreaming of for weeks: paddleboarding. In Washington, of course, we went almost every week from spring to fall. But it's not so easy in Tokyo - paddleboarding really isn't a thing, unless you go to the ocean or to a tiny artificial lake. So it has been a reaaaally long time since I've been paddleboarding and I have missed it. Our guide picked us up from our (fancy) hotel, and drove us and some kayakers to their out of town base. Moments later we were hopping on our boards, and paddling towards, and then into, a watery forest of coconut palms. Oh how I loved it. Our lovely guide attempted a little guiding, pointing out grim deserted homes (deserted as a result of flooding over the last few years) and local fishing methods but soon we got down to the serious business of tranquilly paddling towards town (with a stop off for a board based beer). It was particularly lovely to find ourselves arriving in town as the sun began to set, and the lights began to come on. 

Having bade farewell to our nice guide, we went for an ice cream and a slow mooch through town before returning to our hotel to get changed and ready for the evening. We'd made a reservation at a restaurant that everyone had recommended -  Morning Glory - and I looked appropriately smug as we swept past others queuing to get in. Pleasingly - perhaps I even mean surprisingly - it did actually live up to its press, and the food was a terrific combination of delicious, tangy and innovative. Also cheap. Hooray all round!

Next morning, after another fabulous breakfast, we borrowed hotel bikes and headed out to follow the advice we received earlier this week from some nice Colombian fellow Halong Bay trippers, who'd been to Hoi an before us. We headed out on an unpleasantly busy road to an area famed for its Coconut Palms. Once the roads had cleared a bit, this proved an excellent, scenic plan. And then we followed a sign for a basket boat trip (much to the distress of a local boy who had taken it upon himself to be our gigolo and tour guide) and organized ourselves a waterey tour in a giant basket made of reeds. Our tour guide was a cheery wee lady, who was mainly preoccupied by her amazement at our incompetence with an oar, our horror when she caught a crab and by making us "jewellery" out of palm leaves. 

Back on land, we had a drink before continuing on our way on a beautiful path that eventually led us back to town. Hooray for Colombians and their advice! After a lunchtime avocado toast experience (the shame!) we headed back to the hotel for a delightful afternoon of which we are both thoroughly ashamed: swimming and a spa. We assured ourselves we are absolutely not the kind of people who do that kind of thing on holiday. It's too decadent and extravagant. But it was cheap, excellent and delightful and so we did... After a pre dinner cocktail we headed to dinner at an Indian restaurant (which was notable for not being as good as the rest of the food we'd had - retribution for straying from the Vietnamese path) but otherwise felt very cheery. 

This morning, I was woken by the alarm (a disappointingly regular feature of holidays with Layla...!) before a final delicious breakfast in our hotel. We then headed out to a nearby island to join a cooking class. We'd originally had plans to tack a bike tour on to the end of the cooking class but  I rebelled at the last minute before we paid (a rebellion I was consistently and unpleasantly smug about for the rest of the day, since it unexpectedly ended up pouring with rain pretty much all day).  This kerfuffle over, we headed out on on a boat with the rest of the group to the venue of our cooking class. The class turned out to be super fun, with a plethora of courses, and a cheery local teacher and non-annoying fellow students. The only cloud marring our otherwise excellent experience being the volume of food cooked and our inability not to eat everything we made. We thus staggered back to town somewhat green from too much food (though obviously my smugness at avoiding a cycling-in-driving-rain situation was a great consolation to me) and settled down in a succession of coffee shops to hide from the rain, consume much liquid and avoid thinking about tofu. We nerdily used the time to plan a storytelling workshop for Layla to run in Tokyo (to help breed more storytellers) and to read. We shunned dinner - a first - and headed to the airport early evening wondering if we'd ever be hungry again... Next (and final) stop: Ho Chi Min!

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