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28 June: Qua Nhon
We decided to rent bikes instead of a motorcycle for the day's excursions. The trip to the beach was 10km and although they told us it was a steep ride, we opted for the more scenic way to take in nature. We rode back to the bus station which was only 2km of the way, from there it was a 5km climb up the mountain to the turn off. I was only able to ride a third up, from there it was up to my legs to walk the bike and me to the top, with occasional spurs of energy carrying me a little further per bicycle. For Leanne it was a little easier and she was able to ride up the whole way, stopping for a rest occasionaly. Along the way we would stop for photos of the city, nestled in the valley between two mountain ranges, with a lagoon and sea on the other sides. Just before we reached the top we met two truck drivers, deciding they wanted a morning sleep, before delivering their goods. They had parked the trucks on the side of the road just before the turn and with hammocks attached to the back, laying there they watched us out of amusement, before giving us directions on where to go.
Only 300m to the turnoff, if we hadn't asked we would probably have missed it and freed all the way down the other side of the mountain, before acknowledging our mistake and returning up. We now had a 3km free down a turnoff towards the beach where the leprosy hospital was located. Only problem was that our breaks weren't in the best of shape, the journey down was slow, with constant stops to ensure we didn't gain to much speed. My breaks screeched like a bat out of hell, not that I know the sound, but it had a high pitch like that of a bat only louder. We reached the bottom, having survived the downhill adrenalin rush and the cars and motorcycles literally almost diving us off the road.
We were stopped by an official looking lady and shown an official looking visitors board, officially stating that tourists (not locals) must pay 5 000 dong. We paid it and proceeded to the beach. Not wearing our swimming clothes we dotted into a public toilet, only to hear Leanne confirming that it had a entrance fee. Knowing that the locals often take advantage of tourists, we walked past, told her the lady in front said it was free and rode off towards our secluded part of the beach, never to see her again. We parked our bikes at a mushroom umbrella with chairs in the shade, before we had even settled down into the chairs there was a waiter with a menu. Not sure whether we have to pay for the chairs we ordered a drink and waited to hear what the damage would be, fortunately it was only the price of the beer.
We had forgotten our books to read, so the morning was spent discussing our strategy and itinerary as well as possible diversions there to. We had at least remembered the Vietnam lonely planet and could research some other places we wanted to visit. The rest of the time was spent in the sea, not the clear sapphire blue of the Perhentians, but equally refreshing and beautiful. For once we could walk into water at least waist deep, not only knee deep like so many other places. A lonely fisher man was cruising around casting his nets while another drove his small boat around in the distance. Other than that we were the only Europeans at the beach and the only people swimming, this was the case the whole day. Only when we packed up did some more people wander into the water. During the course of the morning some youthful locals often visited, who would then occupy the hammocks that were located at selected trees. The food had been excessively expensive, so we stayed with the lunch we had brought with, Ramputans (hairy litchis) and some sugar sweets.
We packed up at 15h00 for the road back to the city, now we had a 3km mountain to scale with the bikes and a 5 km free ride down the main road. The walk up was much worse than the one of the morning, this one was so steep that you couldn't even get on your bike and try to peddle up. We reached the top, amazingly not out of breath, the Asian trekking had made us quite fit in retrospect. Now it was time for the down hill ride, the screech of my breaks had vanished, replaced in part by a smell of burning rubber and a measure of the heat emission from them. Every now and again we had to stop to break our speed, but we reached the bottom and headed back into the city without any incidents or close calls.
Along the way we stopped at a restaurant right on the beach, it looked expensive, but we decided to give it the benefit of the doubt. The language barrier was once again a significant one, but after pointing and me going to the kitchen, opening the fridge they knew what we wanted and more importantly we knew what we would get. The first dish was 14 prawns with fried garlic, divine! Knowing that Quo Non is known for its see food, but not adventurous enough nor rich enough to afford the fish they would serve us, we opted for a see food rice. This was a bargain and incredibly tasty when savored with their local Saigon draft.
Afterwards we headed back to the guest house riding along the beach, we decided along the way to take a detour into the residential area with the bikes. The narrow street were filled with people, they were either at the beach frolicking in the shallow water with their life jackets or siting in the alleyways at little street restaurants enjoying Pho Bo (Beef soup). We stopped at a local fresh market, haggled at the price of bananas and bought a hand full and headed back to the restaurant. We read for an hour or so also catching up on what was transpiring at CNN. We headed out again to the market to get some dinner, this time it was the Pho Bo with something else. After a little misunderstanding with what was ordered we were able to straighten it out and enjoy our dinner. We bought some more fruit on the way back, before discovering that the South African football team was playing Spain. We watched the game before heading for bed.
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