What else was I to expect? After many days on the move, I think it was seven consecutive days at this point that someone would be rapping on my hotel door before 7 am. Apparently, we had things that must be done, and obviously, they couldn’t wait until, say, 8 am. So I stumbled out of bed and put on my still-damp clothes. Ah yes, my damp clothes.
Well, I may or may not have discussed my clothing situation in a previous post. Let’s say it had gotten a bit difficult. With only two pairs of clothes with me, one wearing and one backup, I had run out of clean clothes a couple of days ago. I was again only supposed to be separated from my luggage for a night and it was turning into many more.
The situation grows dire
It will be fine, I was told, Don’t worry, I heard. Clothes are cheap here, buy more, they said. So Diem and I headed to the local modern mall last night to alleviate my cloth-less predicament. Now the mall in Qui Nhon was brand new and quite nice. Similar to the one back in Da Nang, if it weren’t for the language difference, it would be similar to something you would see back home. Rows of jewelry cases, modern clothing stores, and toy shops. Complete, of course, with the ubiquitous western-style food court serving everything from slightly modified versions of KFC to Pizza Hut.
We started at the clothing stores on the ground floor. One, in particular, called blue, was reminiscent of a gap back home. Diem picked out a few XL polo shirts and a pair of shorts labeled with my waist size. I went into the dressing room, and after being unable to get the shorts past my knee or the shirt past my shoulders, I decided to trade them in for larger sizes. XXL shirt and larger shorts. I went back into the dressing room and died a little. Nothing fit, not even close.
Fat Shamed By an Entire Nation
We headed to the top floor, where a Target-like department store was housed. Surely I could find a sheet to wear or possibly a tablecloth. Again no luck, Nothing at all fit. It was time, I realized, for an agonizing reappraisal of my situation. It would be clothe washing in the sink and blow drying after for me that evening. And so, a bit humiliated and somewhat deflated, though not enough to fit in any clothing, we headed back to the hotel to do some washing. As Diem was sweet enough to wash my clothes, I showered and made a makeshift toga out of towels and the strap to my computer bag. No, I didn’t take any pictures, and I assure you all this is, unfortunately, true.
Back on the Topic
So with clothes slightly damp but oh so fresh and so clean, we headed out for a rather early breakfast. Breakfast, I can only tell you, was magical as only a chef can appreciate. A true breakfast of champions. It was the kind of meal one ate before completely obliterating one’s enemies on the battlefields of history.
The dish was Banh Hoi and Chao Long. It consists of a plate piled with bean sprouts, baby basil, mint, and chopped lettuce—another plate with noodles and chive wrappers. Essentially you lay cooked rice noodles on a sheet pan with fresh chopped chives and let them cool. As they cool, they stick together, forming a sheet. Once cooled, you cut them into wrapper-sized strips and pile them on a plate. Combined with a bowl of Nuoc Chum and the main ingredient, you’ve got a killer breakfast.
Delicious piles of goodness
What’s the main ingredient, you ask? Well, I’ll tell you, a plate piled high with chunks and strips of everything most may find barbaric. Blood sausage, crispy bits of pork belly, slivers of heart, kidney, liver, and tongue. Chunks of rice stuffed intestines, strips of the stomach. In short, if you can get past the language and muster up a pair of big boy shorts, it’s a breakfast full of deep richness and flavor. It’s a depth and warmth one can only get from organ meat, and any friend I have that’s a chef will, I assure you, agree.
A little coffee
And so, after a wonderful breakfast, we headed out for coffee before beginning our stellar day. We had our cup at Light House Coffee and Tea on Duong Nguyen Tat Thanh Boulevard, just up from the main beach. It was a beautiful little coffee shop and had some great views. It, in fact, had a Light House in it, and Diem and I took some time to playfully run around and get a few photo ops. We enjoyed our coffee and then headed out for what I was not expecting.
The Drive To Nowhere
As we drove north out of Qui Nhon, we turned due east just out of the city. We crossed the Cau Thi Nai bridge and onto the Phuong Mai Peninsula. The coast of Vietnam and its ancient geological coastline is full of mountainous peninsulas that jut out into the sea—creating panoramic ocean views and protective barriers for the inland towns and harbors.
When I took off from Atlanta some eight days ago, typhoon Nakri was barreling down on the Binh Dinh coast. The aftermath was apparent as we crossed the bridge and onto the peninsula. The streets and sidewalks were still covered with sand, and damage to some of the building sites was still visible as crews were busy securing equipment and cleaning up the area. The Peninsula is, for now, almost uninhabited, though construction is everywhere.
Soon to be the jewel of Vietnam and Southeast Asia, Phuong Mai Peninsula in Qui Nhon is a strange example of tourism from nothing. The Peninsula, until recently, was completely void of settlement. The only settlement now is an effort to grow its tourism prospects. Shells of future massive resorts dot the landscape and are under heavy construction. Progress is everywhere.
On we go, to where I don’t know
We headed deeper into the peninsula, past the cookie-cutter properties popping up all around, and drove headlong into the mountains that magically seemed to fill the space. The Peninsula is no wider than 2 miles, yet has peaks at least 1200 feet high. It’s a striking sight to see. We seemed to drive almost vertically at times as we climbed ever higher up the road to the base camp. I say base camp as a misnomer as it’s the only base camp I’ve ever been to where you then descend. And so, at 1200 feet, with the ocean all around, we purchased our tickets. We loaded an open single-car tram with a very low gear ratio and, what I can only describe as fell, 1200 feet down a half a mile paved path into paradise.
Ky Co Beach
The descent was impressive. I could hear the transmission reel in an attempt to keep control. The operator never changed gears, and it was obvious the transmission kept us from spiraling out of control down the steep paved road. It was the only way in or out of Ky Co beach, and it was obvious why only special transports were allowed. It would be hard to regulate private cars or, heaven forbid, motorbikes down this insanely pitched thoroughfare. We finally settled into an unloading point at the bottom of the road, and paradise awaited our discovery.
It was beyond beautiful. Only a handful of structures on the hillside and surrounded by mountains. A beach as pristine as any I’d ever seen and an amazing view. It was one of the few times in my life when the landscape around the beach was even more stunning than the beach. A truly isolated chunk of paradise. There were a handful of modern structures, as I stated, and Diem and I took the time to explore them for some photo ops. Though the populated edge of the cove was beautiful and appealing, it was the other side that drew my adventurous needs.
An unbelievable beach
The beach was so newly discovered as a tourist resort that the pier wasn’t even complete. This place was pure and hidden and difficult to find. Yet I knew from the activity that it would soon be lost in the many travel books of beaches to explore in next year’s edition of who cares. Hell, I was exploring it now and thinking of what promise it had for commerce and prosperity for the area. What an ass I am. To truly appreciate and want to preserve this pristine beach, I should leave now. Yet I paid the price. I paid the admission.
So, without trepidation, I explored its many coves and water-carved cliffs. Its jungle vine-laden walls and crab-cluttered rocks. If I was going to be here, I might as well document it for history. The Ky Co beach I see today may never be seen again. In a year from now, it will probably be gobbled up by crappy reenactments of proposed local customs and over-merchandising. Maybe I’m the first international player to say Ky Co beach is one of the most beautiful beaches I’ve ever seen. But I assure you I won’t be the last.
Leaving Paradise
After a day of exploring, we loaded the tram and climbed out of paradise. I knew as I left I would never see it like this again. As I rode out, the pavement was being poured. To quote Adam Duritz, “They paved paradise and put up a parking lot.” And so it goes. We hopped back into our private car and stumbled back down the other side of the mountain toward Qui Nhon. On our way down, we came across a herd of goats high on the rocky hillside. We stopped for a few well-timed photos. We could see the small city of Xa Nhon Ly in the background. Amazingly the backdrop looked more like a photo op in the Mediterranean and Greece than in Vietnam.
We made our way back into Qui Nhon and into some dinner. Braised spinach, fresh vegetables, steaming rice, pots of braised tiny fish, and strips of roasted pork. Dinner time, breakfast time, it didn’t matter. Everything was always delicious in the land of the blue dragon.
Click Here for a short film of Ky Co Beach
Click Here for more posts about Qui Nhon
Beautiful indeed. Such an amazing place I just wish I can be there some day.