I’ve been staying at hotels near the beach in Da Nang, Vietnam for the past two weeks. The cost of living is so low here I feel I can stay as long as I want. But I’m starting to feel a bit restless and will soon move on, though it’s been an enjoyable experience. Let me walk you through a typical day here.
The hotel I’m at now serves breakfast every morning, which you choose the night before. I’ve had the hotel staff knock on my door as late as 10 PM to make sure they had my breakfast order for the following morning. I usually eat some kind of noodles with beef or fish, along with Vietnamese coffee (with condensed milk).
After breakfast, I cross the Beach Road highway and take a walk along My Khe beach (better known as China Beach, though that name offends some of the locals, especially lately). There’s a path that leads from near my hotel and follows the ocean, accessible until you reach the resorts, just past My An. Here I’ll find a marble bench in the shade of a coconut tree and do some combination of reading and writing for an hour or two. Then I’ll head to the ocean with my camera.
Every day, the ocean is a little bit different. I try to capture the difference photographically but it’s subtle. Jam the photos up on Facebook and no one will even notice. The story of the ocean is the same story told over and over but with a slightly different voice. On a windy day the waves will pick up. When the clouds come in, the colors are much sharper. A high tide brings all kinds of debris onto the beach. Trash thrown into the ocean washes up on the beach with a vengeance and it’s interesting to see how the shellfish attach themselves to cans, bottles, sandals, anything. In the distance, you can see container ships making their way slowly across the horizon, their safe passage ensured by the watchful eye of the giant Lady Buddha statue on Monkey Mountain, watching over the harbor.
At My An, I cross the beach road again in search of coffee or maybe a snack. I usually stop at one of the expat restaurants, either Tranquilos Restaurant And Bar at Chu Hotel or An’s Cafe a block farther in, both excellent choices. There I’ll read and write some more before heading back north along the beach.
When I walk along the beach, several types of solicitors will approach me. My reaction is always the same, polite but firm. I look up, smile, wave my hand dismissively and say, “No, thank you.” Then I turn away and keep walking. Any other approach will waste a lot of your time. No one walks here, especially on hot days. So if you’re walking alongside the beach road, expect both taxis and motorbikes to offer you rides. With the motorbikes, it’s not clear whether they’re offering to drive you around or if they will take you to one of the many motorbike rental shops nearby.
You also be approached, both on the beach and at “expat” hangouts, by vendors with large placards strapped over their shoulders, selling sunglasses and other cheap, plastic souvenirs. One woman insists on calling them “Ray-Bans” though of course they’re not. I’ve never wanted to buy anything from them, but if you do, be prepared to haggle aggressively, as the first price they quote you will be very high.
Even on the beach itself, you’ll be approached by vendors. There are beach chairs covered by bamboo umbrellas with thatched roofs. It costs money to sit in them, and often women will yell to you as you pass them, offering you a seat. I had assumed these chairs were not free to sit in but I wasn’t sure until when, on the first day I was here, I stopped briefly to sit in one. I just sat on the edge, not even reclining, reading my book. Almost immediately a small woman in a conical hat (Nón Lá) approached me saying, “Money! Money!” I asked how much and she hesitated before saying, “50” meaning 50,000 dong, or about $2.50 USD. “All day,” she added. I told her no thanks and walked away. It’s not so much money, really, but it did seem like a lot to sit in a chair and buy overpriced drinks when I became thirsty. But what really decided it for me was the way she hesitated before coming up with the amount, as if she were calculating how much I’d be willing to pay. And she was. I saw a sign later saying chair rental cost 30,000 dong.
For lunch, I usually head to the row of beachside seafood restaurants. I’ve eaten at several of them, but I usually come back to the Blue Whale. It has the best selection of single serving food. I recommend the clay pot mackerel with steamed rice and I always get a coconut juice, which is a whole coconut with the top sliced off and a straw stuck inside. The waitress has come to recognize me and last time I was there, she gave me a “leftover” dessert for free, which was a nice gesture.
Afternoon is more of the same. Reading and writing either at the beach or the cafe at A La Carte, near the hotel, for coffee or tea. At dinnertime, I often find myself at Family Restaurant for Indian food. Yes, I know I’m in Vietnam and I should be enjoying the local cuisine but after a few months, you crave something different. And good food is good food, regardless of the cuisine. I recommend the lamb vindaloo and mango lassi. I’ve also enjoyed pizza at the nearby Nha Leo (be sure to chat with the owner, a friendly Frenchman who’s been in Da Nang for quite a while). Other times I do take advantage of the many local Vietnamese places, that are both delicious and inexpensive.
Now and then I mix it up a bit and head into the city center, usually near the Dragon Bridge. A taxi ride will cost about $3 USD each way and take about 10 to 15 minutes. I often end up at the Waterfront, an upscale eatery with a view of the river. There I might treat myself to a (very expensive) glass of wine.
I’ve enjoyed my time here and look forward to returning, perhaps for a much longer stay. But for now, it’s time to move on.
