40
Our cycling route takes us past village temples, through rice fields and skirting lotus ponds and lakes
from the sun while allowing a slight breeze to cool the head, thus avoiding the dreaded “hat hair”) and set off in single file along the roads – countering the odd wobble as our childhood muscle memory kicks in. Within minutes, we’ve leſt any semblance of the town and find ourselves surrounded by beautiful countryside. Our route takes us ambling past village temples, through rice fields, and skirting lotus ponds and lakes. At one point we come across a local farmer slowly riding his water buffalo to the next field – he laughingly asks if we’d like to clamber aboard, though the smell emitting from
the buffalo is a little too authentic for my tastes. Eventually we roll to a stop in Tra Que village, a vegetable farming village that has evolved into
CLOCKWISE FROM ABOVE:
Lotus ponds dot the Hoi
An landscape; Junior Suite
Balcony room in La Siesta
Hoi An Resort; and a thung chai basket boat
AP RIL 2 0 18
an ecotourism hotspot for visitors who are keen to understand and get involved in authentic local experiences. We park our bikes in the courtyard of a modest one-storey abode and wait for our hosts. When they emerge, my jaw drops: out shuffles the tiny old lady from the photograph in my hotel room, her beatific, toothless smile and crinkled face unmistakeable. Her tiny frame is dressed in a soſt rose tunic and paisley print pants casually rolled above bare feet, her hair placed in a bun with a hair band to keep it in place. Behind her comes her husband, almost as tiny as she – with his rock-star beard and
badger-hair styled into a quiff for the occasion. Bentony explains what I already know: the couple are
models for some of the portrait photography featured in the hotel. Teir names are Nguyen Ti Loi, whose sprightly joie de vivre belies her 86 years, and her 92-year- old husband Le Van So. Aſter receiving a present of biscuits, Nguyen offers a comment that makes all the Vietnamese burst out laughing. Bentony translates: “But how can I eat them if I don’t have any teeth!” Te couple clasp hands and welcome their visitors,
before showing us through their humble home and into their garden. Te neat allotment patches contain sweet- scented herbs and vegetables including mint, lettuce, basil and spring onion, as well as many I can’t identify. Tey demonstrate the watering system – it looks rudimentary, with two pails hung on either end of a wooden pole that rests on the shoulders, but it’s an acquired skill of balance and core strength that I don’t quite master with my own clumsy, sloshing attempt. Reluctantly our time with this ever-smiling duo comes
to an end, and we hop back on our bikes to the Tu Bon River bank where we gingerly step down into rounded bamboo boats. Teir strange appearance dates back to the arrival of French colonialists, who began levying taxes on boat ownership – taxes that were unaffordable to the majority of Vietnamese
fisherman, who needed such vessels for their livelihood. Te locals therefore cunningly invented a new kind of vessel: the
bus ine s s tr a v el ler .c om
Page 1 |
Page 2 |
Page 3 |
Page 4 |
Page 5 |
Page 6 |
Page 7 |
Page 8 |
Page 9 |
Page 10 |
Page 11 |
Page 12 |
Page 13 |
Page 14 |
Page 15 |
Page 16 |
Page 17 |
Page 18 |
Page 19 |
Page 20 |
Page 21 |
Page 22 |
Page 23 |
Page 24 |
Page 25 |
Page 26 |
Page 27 |
Page 28 |
Page 29 |
Page 30 |
Page 31 |
Page 32 |
Page 33 |
Page 34 |
Page 35 |
Page 36 |
Page 37 |
Page 38 |
Page 39 |
Page 40 |
Page 41 |
Page 42 |
Page 43 |
Page 44 |
Page 45 |
Page 46 |
Page 47 |
Page 48 |
Page 49 |
Page 50 |
Page 51 |
Page 52 |
Page 53 |
Page 54 |
Page 55 |
Page 56 |
Page 57 |
Page 58 |
Page 59 |
Page 60 |
Page 61 |
Page 62 |
Page 63 |
Page 64 |
Page 65 |
Page 66 |
Page 67 |
Page 68 |
Page 69 |
Page 70 |
Page 71 |
Page 72 |
Page 73 |
Page 74 |
Page 75 |
Page 76 |
Page 77 |
Page 78 |
Page 79 |
Page 80 |
Page 81 |
Page 82 |
Page 83 |
Page 84
