Na Tran and the road to Dalat

I sat with my toes buried deep in the sand, watching the beach jut out into a warm turquoise surf. Locals gathered around for their evening games of soccer, volleyball and wave surfing while merchants wove amongst the tourist cabanas selling everything from cigarettes to bracelets to corn on the cob and sparklers. Families of Vietnamese tourists splashed and flipped and floated together, laughing with each wave that hit them and carried them into shore, than out once more. The sea here seems so immense, yet so lived in and I start to wonder what it would be like living here with the waves as my playground. It's a feeling I've had many times on this trip, wondering what the real world of local life is like. Right now, Its a world which I feel intimately included in- I'm a guest welcomed to join the party and partake in the energy spinning around on this stretch of coast. The scene was that of everyday life in this bustling beach side city, yet being present in it made me feel so alive and content in that moment, that I wanted to cry.

The sun was setting, meaning the town would quickly be waking back up from its mid day sun dazed sleepiness. Soon, the daytime Bhan Mi stands would give way to the smoked fish and fresh foot-long prawns being sold on every corner. The tour buses would be overtaking the roads from buzzing motorbikes, bringing with them fresh eyes and wallets arriving from Ho Chi Mihn, Ha Noi, & Hoi An.

Ive been here for hours, yet cant get myself to leave. So I order a beer. It's a fabulously priced $1, so naturally I up the ante to 2 beers. I've grown so accustomed to the art of just sitting, observing, taking it all in. This isn't the first time ( nor the last, I'm sure), that I've intended to sit down and kill some time only to find myself entranced and immobile while I lose hours in the sport of spectating. I know I could stay here getting my fill of cheap beer and continuing to wax philosophical, but I have an early bus to Dalat so I decide to call it a night.

The bus to Dalat Should be just another long bus ride, but  turns out to be a scenic cruise through untouched jungle and beautiful, forgotten villages. Every tight bend in the road brings with it the opening up of a new view,  a seemingly endless expanse of tumbling green hills and orange rocky rivers. With each additional 10k, a town punctuates the winding roadside with its shanty shops and colorfully painted Buddhist altars. Rusted over satellite dishes, were perched on the corners of boarded up shacks transmitting no signals and gathering an afternoon mountain dew on their steel arms. Villagers were squatting on their porches, smoking tobacco from banana leaves and watching the bus of tourists roll by. Their unaffected demeanor shows they've likely spent many similar hours, of many similar days ,  of many similar months- in the same languid pastime of porch perching.

Soon we arrive in Dalat. A day earlier in Na Tran, a local warned me not to expect much from the town itself- but I'm pleasantly surprised at how wrong he was. The steep jungle hills have stacked rows of colorful homes, all circling around a deep valley that's so shrouded in rainy fog u cant see the bottom of it. The roads are misted with fresh rain. The air is cool and a welcome relief from the humid lowland cities I've been in so far ( I'm instantly grateful that my decision to lug around Mike's Smartwool sweater has finally paid off, I end up wearing it the entire time I'm in Dalat). The climate and landscape all remind me slightly of a Vietnamese version of Seattle, & a lurch of homesickness quickly tightens my  stomach. Fortunately after a deadly 2 week bout with homesickness earlier in my trip, I'm familiar with this feeling and know the quickest remedy. I close my eyes, shoot a smile and positive thought back to my home city,  & open my eyes back to the gem of a town that is laid out before me to enjoy. Good Morning, Dalat.


Rainy hillsides of Dalat

My Friendly Vietnamese boyfriend, who had my heart when he welcomed me inside from the rain to watch cartoons and share his blanket.