Left our Iffy resort hotel but superb location at the relaxed time of 9:30 am, after Paul had his photo shoot with the holidaying Vietnamese. Oddly, they thought he was rather cute. A surprising breakfast with the addition of the most deliciously cooked chips with our everyday omlette and bread roll.
Same ol’ wind in the face as we battled up the coastline on Highway 1 together with the blaring horns of all the trucks and coaches. Not much fun, but no other route.
Linda chose lunch, badly, in the town of Quang Ngai. At the later time of 1:30, most stalls are pretty empty. After a bleak trawl up and down the main street, elected for the corner shop with cold rice, cold stewed greens and cold slice of omlette. The addition of a chilli or two didn’t improve the flavour much. Fingers were crossed all evening, anticipating worse than mild indigestion.
Last 15km towards My Son, such a relief to lose the wind. Stopped at the museum which tells of the history of the My Lai massacre. Another horrid tragedy inflicted on the Vietnamese by the Americans. Interesting use of the swastika symbol. We didn’t realise that it has been used for centuries by Buddhists, before being stolen by German’s.
Room booked at an empty resort hotel along the coast. Surprisingly large open air restaurants hosted a large group of policemen for supper and, we think, a wedding party, karaokiying while we enjoyed a very tasty piece of seafood. The beaches along this coastline are unimaginably vast, beautiful, and exceptionally clean. They haven’t been destroyed, yet, with hotels. Or any buildings at all.
Tomorrow a bit of a worry, as we are planning a big day, 130km, and it may just not be possible into this ferocious wind. Plan B is stay in another rubbish cheap ‘Hotel’ on the way. Hey ho.