Dinner in Nha Trang was at a local bbq restaurant that was clearly a favorite of both Little Phoic and the guide books. The Vietnamese version of Hooters’ girls were efficient and no-nonsense, setting up little charcoal bbq’s at the table and delivering plate after plate of squid, giant prawns, beef, fish and veggies.


We’ve noticed that most restaurants don’t provide napkins – I’m not sure what you’re supposed to do when your hands get sticky or there’s schmutz on your face. Sometimes, there’s a small stack of 3"x4" note paper of sorts, that I guess is the napkin substitute. It doesn’t absorb much, and just makes me realize how much I want to wash my hands.  Maybe it’s supposed to be used to blot grease. At the end of this meal, we were rewarded with big wet naps. Must be the tourist influence -- not very authentic, but a welcome addition.

The following day was supposed to include a boat ride, snorkeling and swimming in the beautiful bay. Because of the typhoon 3 days earlier however, the water was very rough and cloudy. The plans were canceled and Steven and I took off on one of our famous walks. The market here seems slightly less frantic than some of the others we've visited, and the inside area was relatively neat and quiet. Until people started to roar through on motorbikes. I guess I forgot that motorbikes are demi gods and have free rein to go wherever they want.

We taxi’d to the Cham Towers, which provided us with wonderful views of the local fishing fleet on the Cai River. The towers, originally 10, were built between the 6th and 12th centuries. Four remain, the most impressive of which was built in 817. Each contains ornate shrines, and visitors must remove their shoes and cover their knees to enter. Worshippers burn incense and leave offerings of food and flowers for the gods.

We also visited the White Buddha and Long Sun Pagoda. The Buddha was built in 1963 to symbolize the Buddhist struggle against the Diem regime. Around the base, there are carved images of some of the most renowned nuns and monks who set fire to themselves in protest. A bunch of kids tried to provide valuable tid bits of info in “minimalist” English. Their intrusiveness was quite annoying, but when they referred to Steven as “Happy Buddha”, I forgave them completely.




We had booked massages for the late afternoon, and headed to the hotel’s salon. We were shown into adjacent rooms, and our masseuses chatted easily between themselves while they pinched, whacked and did gymnastics on our bodies. As a finale, Steven was urged to indulge in a “happy ending”; his masseuse promised to be very quiet, and that I would never know! Then our ladies proceeded to plead – no demand – generous tips. We were glad to escape….