The call for daft decisions was finally answered after considerable consternation and indecision, as well as a few ponderous pizzas in Nha Trang. Off we headed to Jungle Beach, 60km northeast of Nha Trang, feted by the Let's Go guide and google as a calm and quiet place on a secluded beach with none of the hassles that invariably dog a traveller in the more heavily touristed areas of Vietnam. "The Anti-Open Tour". Perfect antidote to a traveller's malaise.
On the 90 minute ride out of Nha Trang along Highway 1 we passed a series of small villages on this extensive peninsula, as well as an enormous Hyundai shipyard where the speciality is cutting huge car transport ships in half, adding another 20 metre section in the middle then welding the whole lot back together again to make a super-super-ship.
Almost at the end of an increasingly desolate road we pull up to an innocuous looking gate whcih gave little away as to what lay beyond. As we enterred we were greet by Sylvio, the French-Canadian owner, and a tray filled with glasses of fresh-squeezed lemon juice to refresh our palates. This was a promising start. The grand tour, hosted by Syl(vio), took us through the main house with kitchens, communal dining area, library, anda big poster of the Euro 2008 fixtures. The 3 acre site holds an assortment of huts, cabanas and suites, all constructed on site with bamboo frames, woven screen panels, handmade roller blinds and open beds with mosquito nets strung from 2 of the 3 walls. 4th wall is optional. As luck would have it the only 2 guests when we arrived were leaving within the hour and the pick of the huts was ours. We (as in Fiona) chose the prime beach hut with a huge covered veranda, strung with hammocks and furnished with bamboo recliners and tables. The view of the ocean could be enjoyed from bed or any of our handmade chairs.
Our first day involved little more than a swim on the pristine, empty beach, a quiet dinner and an early night. About as far away from the bustle of Nha Tranf as we could have hoped for.
We were woken shortly after dawn by the rising temperature and influx of sunlight into our sleeping area. This day started as they all seemed to during our stay; delicious breakfast cooked to orderas much lemon juice as we could drink and a swim in the cool, clear water. We had come out for 3, maybe 4, days before a planned return to Nha Trang then onwards to Saigon. As the days passed our exodus became ever more arduous a prospect and ever more unlikely.
Without wishing to descend into an interminable food review, we can sum up our meals very simply. Delicious, fresh, a constantly changing combination of dishes from meatballs to lemongrass-chilli beef, chunks of marlin to ginger shrimp, fresh morning glory to brocolli cooked in a tempura batter. All of this is a mere footnote to the culinary revalation that is Jungle Beach Guacamole. Fresh, citrussy, served with prawn crackers to make the perfect crunchy snack. Bliss.
As the days and nights passed we had the pleasure of enjoying a rotatio of guests from as far apart as Brooklyn and Melbourne, Singapore and South Africa. Being slightly off the beaten track, the place attracts a clientele generally from early 20s to early 30s (with exceptions from 7 to 70) who are looking for a counterpoint to the madness that seems to permeate most travel destinations in Vietnam. Doting honeymooners, resting writers, longterm travellers and people on emigration treks like our own were the proverbial bread and butter. Special mention has to go to Jungle Beach Alumni of Suzie, Will, Raina, Nick and Anna who provided some of the best company and most enjoyable few days of our trip so far.
Gathering wood (half a tree) for the beach fire
Nightly bonfires, catching some waves on our Chinese bodyboard, swimming in darkness to enjoy the phosphourescence in the ocean, treks and snorkelling, building our own sundial, watching monkeys on the heavily forested mountains looming around us, building chairs and plotting with Syl on the next phase of development and the finer points of a solar pizza oven. Far too many highlights to mention them all.
Fire on the beach
Our hybrid Vietnamese-English-Irish languse lessons with the delightful and ever-helpful staff made the prospect of yet another evening sipping beer and debating the nature of the universeeven more appealing than we could have expected. "Cam on, Gai" becomes "Thank you, Gai" become "Go raibh maith agat, Gai". Nios mo ris? Toi loi roi!! In the absence of any possibility of a Vietnamese tongue wrapping itself around the sylabbles of "Seamus", he has been rechristened "Anh" by the girls. This could mean anything from "A young driver" to "Heh, you" to "Elder brother". We live in hope.
The only break of consequence in our coma-inducingly pleasant routine is the 3km trek along the white sand beach to the village of Ninh Phuoc to check mail, read the latest from RTE and BBC World and confirm to our families that Yes, We Are Still Alive.
Faced with a land and sea voyage across 6 countries, several thousand miles and inumerable "Hello Motobike!", I hope we can be forgiven for our absurdly procrastinatory ways. It is without regret, dear reader, that i predict we may stay right here for some time to come.
