Is this your first time here?

Romantic Tour with Flowers and Waterfalls

April 28, 2009

Wake up early and realise my Visa is going to expire in five days and there's no way I will be able to finish with Vietnam in time. I grab my passport from the receptionist and visit my friend Miss Trang, manager of another hotel in the area. She tells me that the office is closed on Sundays, so we'll sort out the visa tomorrow.

Mr Trum (who caught the bus with me from Nha Trang) and I rent a moto and head down to Mr Vuong's Romantic Tour. We travel through the countryside, past Danang to a place called Cua Huoi.

 

Countryside along the trip.

The place is exactly as described, a series of small waterfalls cascading down the mountain, forming small pools for swimming. Flowers fall into the water and the scent is amazing. The only thing missing is a single flamenco guitar player and it would be the most romantic place I've seen in Vietnam.

I can't resist and decide to go for a quick dip in the water. Within five minutes I am approached by ten curious middle-aged Vietnamese men who are very excited to offer me beers. It would be impolite to decline so Trum and I join them for beers. Next thing you know we're eating lunch with them, and they are introducing all the unwed women for myself to find a good wife.

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The new friends with whom we share dinner, notice the large amount of beers, they are what lead to the next source of entertainment. The man on the far right (Tung) is the father of the girl on the far left, she is a make up artist, can cook and clean and would make a great wife for me Tung tells me, with Trum translating.

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Your eyes are not deceiving you, I am the one on the right in the straw hat, the man on the right is about to give me a big bear hug. After the many beers and rice whiskey shots, an old man hops on the keyboard and they give me a mic, requesting some English songs. I don't know anything they request and they don't know any of the songs I do, so I freestyle a song on the spot to the honky tonk tune being played. I sing about my trip, my friends in Hoi An, the beautiful countryside and about all the Vietnamese women I will marry.

Turns out everyone had stopped what they were doing and was listening to my ballad. They didn't understand a word I was singing but were still enthusiastically applauding when I finished the song with "I still call Australia home". For the rest of the day people approach my with a smile and tell me I'm a great singer. They're full of it but I thank them anyway.

We leave several hours later to head to Marble Mountain and run into trouble. Trum the genius didn't want to stop for petrol when I suggested we should, we run out and have to wait for a lift.

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Trum knows more Vietnamese than I do, so I let him hitchhike in the sun while I chill in the shade and take some photos. It takes all of five minutes to find a lift (this is after we're bored of pushing the bike and coasting down hill).

When we fill up I tell Trum I'm driving, hop on the bike and figure out how to ride manual (thanks to the one lesson I had in Australia) while Trum grumbles about the heat. Shortly he is shouting for me to slow down, telling me he is scared that we will die. I laugh and tell him I am scared also. He is quiet most of the way to Marble Mountain. We make it in one piece.

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