Day 9 Serenity and Sensation in Hoi An

Hello again from wonderful Hoi An. I normally try to bring a little levity to this diary, mainly because my travels so far have been marked by a series of chaotic mishaps. Today, however, was completely different. Today was serene and steeped in colour.

My day started with a welcome lie-in; I didn’t stir until 7 a.m., knowing I wasn't being picked up for my afternoon journey until 2 p.m. I spent the morning running a few errands—chasing down my laundry and buying a badly needed new pair of Skechers to replace my worn-out ones. Just before I was picked up, I had a very late lunch, sitting by the pool with the cool, sweet milk of a fresh coconut, letting the quiet morning drift by. Then, our happy Buddha of a rep, Lee, whisked us away to Hoi An.

What a wonderful place. There’s no chaos to report today, only beauty. The very air in the streets felt different, thick with the scents of street food, river water, and blooming flowers. Down by the river, we boarded charming little woven coconut boats that bobbed on the water, and headed out for a bit of crab catching. I felt a moment of surprising, simple pride when I was the only one in our group to actually catch one.

I got a couple of videos of our guide spinning his boat in a dizzying circle, and then it was my turn. A woman from Singapore who was with me didn’t want to go, so a friendly Indian man from another boat jumped in with me. We paid the guide about 100,000 dong (around £3), and he began to spin. If you’ve ever been on the waltzers, that’s level two. This was level five. After about thirty seconds, I was so giddy that the world dissolved into a blur of water and sky. I couldn't focus on a single thing, so I just shut my eyes and held on, feeling the rush of the wind and the spray on my face. When I stumbled back to the other boat, the woman explained she couldn't get my phone camera to work—a shame, but the feeling was unforgettable. It was surreal.

After our crab-fishing adventure, we wandered through the wonderful, colourful streets of Hoi An. The town is a maze of tailors, gold shops, silversmiths, and shops selling leather and silk—an absolutely wonderful place. As daylight began to soften, I saw lanterns hanging everywhere, their colours vibrant even in the afternoon sun. I couldn't quite understand their purpose at first. But then, as 5 o'clock hit and the sun began to wane, the entire town came alive. One by one, the lanterns began to glow, painting the streets and the river in warm, shimmering light. It felt like they must have been pulling from the whole national grid to create such a spectacle.

We boarded another boat, this one larger, to join a festival of lights on the river itself. We were all given little paper lanterns with candles inside to release onto the water and make a wish. The sight of hundreds of tiny flames floating on the dark water, reflecting the thousands of lanterns on the shore, was simply unbelievable. The air smelled of warm wax and the cool river, filled with the gentle sounds of lapping water and hushed wishes. It was a truly, deeply wonderful experience.

I could have happily stayed there for two or three more days. I even indulged in a local snack—a rice paper packet filled with vegetables and something like a Bombay mix. It cost the princely sum of 50,000 dong, maybe £1.20. As I took a bite, I thought, "Here we go again," half-expecting another culinary misadventure. But it was gorgeous, crunchy and fresh. Later, at the restaurant for dinner, I could barely touch my food; I was still full from the snack and the day’s sensations. I couldn’t have done the meal justice.

The bus ride home was uneventful, a quiet end to a dazzling day. I know I should have more pictures to show for it, but many of them were airdropped to my phone by our rep, and I still have to find them. There were some really good photographs taken on the river, of the boats and all the lanterns. Until I can dig them up, the memories will have to do. Thanks for reading.