Day Four in Paradise, Part One

Today I thought I might leave Anna Tham's hotel. Tonight, with the unwillingness of a full heart, I am assuredly staying another day. I am only half afraid of the bill I'll receive when I finally check out here, as the entire experience has been so incredibly worth it. It's so hard to start at the beginning, given the things that happened afterwards, but I will do so, again, for your sake.

This morning, I got up at a more reasonable hour than the last couple days, 6:30 AM or so. I was sick. My throat was sore as could be, and all I could think is that this would be the day I would take a pass on Vietnam and stay in bed. I did not.

I was hoping this morning to schedule and pay for a ticket out of Tam Coc to Hoi An, where I hope to stay with a family whose listing on AirBnb has reviews praising the hospitality and helpfulness of the hosts. I asked Anna how much it'd be to go to Hoi An from Tam Coc, and after a couple calls she determined that the price was an irregularly high 650,000 dong, over thirty dollars. I was unsure at that point that I wanted to leave, as staying here, I've been treated well for breakfast, lunchtime exploration, and dinner.

I've managed, over the last couple days, to completely avoid lunch, yesterday by meandering by rice paddies in search of a nonexistent restaurant, and today by determinedly arriving in Trang An before the sun came out there.



This seven and a half mile bike ride was worth it. I spent a bit of time on familiar roads, until I got out to the highways; I think I heard that highway 1 is being rerouted closer to Ninh Binh; I can't remember, but I believe I was biking on that new highway they were building, as there was gravel on some lanes and concrete on others.

I passed the occasional motorcyclist, who have been everywhere since I arrived in Vietnam. While outside Hanoi there aren't as many of them in one place, there remains a palpable reality of motorcycles everywhere.

The roads weren't particularly busy while I rode to Trang An, but they didn't need to be; the scenery was continually more beautiful; as I progressed on to Trang An road, the mountains came closer, surrounded and overwhelmed me; they remind me of the times I've been through the Rocky Mountains in Colorado.

The feeling of nostalgia for that time is strong now, as I feel the similarity between the two. It is a hard thing to remember times gone by which were wonderful, happy, and beautiful. These times in Vietnam will one day be remembered with the fondness of a full heart emptied.

I eventually arrived at Trang An, and paid about $0.75 for parking; I should probably explain; in Vietnam, people take the initiative to profit off the fact that your bike or motorcycle will remain unattended for hours at a time. This service I used in the case of Hang Mua, and again today. I had paid about $0.14 for parking at Hang Mua, which set my standards rather high for parking pricing.

As a traveler, you have to budget in order to stay afloat, and in some cases you compare prices and become jealous for the money you lose. This greed is a blind greed, as it doesn't consider the wonder of the world and the people you see. The other advantage of these parking lots is that your bike or motorcycle is safe. While I wouldn't hesitate to leave Anna's bike free standing most places in Vietnam, there is comfort in having someone in its near vicinity with incentive to keep it safe.

With my bike parked on one side of the highway, I continued across the asphalt to the set of buildings, small shops, and pagodas on the other side, next to the river. There were hundreds of boats nearby, although many were moored on the other side of the water.

I was unsure at this point that I wanted to take the tour; the boats, in my moment of doubt, seemed rather unsafe, and I worried that either me and my belongings (particularly my laptop, phone, and camera) would fall in the water and be ruined. It seemed like too great a risk, and when I saw the price, 150,000 dong, I wasn't ready to bite. The attendant for the ticket booth was exceptionally aloof, to the point where my uncertainty nearly became unwillingness, and I almost settled for simply walking around and taking some photos before heading back.

Thankfully, a man and his two sons came up, though, and he paid for their three tickets; the attendant remained aloof, but gave the man his tickets. I chose to follow suit, and so began the journey of the four. We, three Vietnamese and an American, got into a boat together with our Vietnamese rower. As more of us got into the boat, it dropped lower and lower into the water, and eventually I found myself thinking, "Archimedes, you'd better know what you're talking about." The displacement of water by boat was making me uncomfortable, and I wasn't thinking quite straight. I merely hoped I would stay dry; the same for my gadgets.

The boat ride began somewhat uneventfully; the sun was fairly high overhead, which wasn't ideal for photographs, and the river wasn't really gorgeous as we began the tour.

Woe is me! The memory I am given is insufficient to remember all the wonderful kindness and hospitality I've been shown here. It genuinely saddens me that some of the generosity and love of these people will go unremembered simply for my lacking brain.

I'm exhausted, yet again, so I'll go to sleep now. I'll continue the tale of today...tomorrow.

!Noah!