Dalat

For the first time, we arrived in a town without a hotel pre-booked so as we pulled into Dalat, and stepped off the vomit filled bus, we planned to make our way to a hotel we had found on the internet which would hopefully have rooms available. We were dropped off at the town’s long distance bus station where our bus company had arranged a few taxis which would take us to our hotel free of charge. The catch, it soon turned out, was that on the way he stopped at another hotel and encouraged us to stay there instead. Usually we wouldn’t listen to him, but seeing as the hotel actually seemed perfectly adequate and a good price we accepted and checked in having first asked to see a room. The only issue arose when the hotel demanded keeping our passport for the duration of our stay which didn't go down well seeing as our passports are the single most important items we carry. After some negotiation we agreed to let them keep the passports until 10pm that evening.

The view towards Dalat town centre from our window

The room was pretty basic but included wi-fi and a pretty good view of the town so for just £4 each we were happy. That evening we headed to the centre of town where we expected to find a decent selection of restaurants based on the amount of neon we could see from the window. However, it turned out there were very few and most of them seemed to be pizza places, so after a lengthy search we finally found one but not being overly confident on it we both decided on Western food. This turned out to be a mistake and we concluded that if we weren’t confident in somewhere its best to let them cook what their used to as my burger was questionable at best and Linz’s steak seemed a little runnier than I remember steak being. While we were out we booked a tour through our regular company for the following day seeing as attractions around Dalat are fairly spaced out and the mountainous terrain would make it even harder for us to get around by ourselves. We returned to the hotel where we forgot to pick up our passports despite the fuss we kicked up earlier.

Walking round the lake to get to our tour bus

After a decent night’s sleep, which Linz spent wrapped in an air tight bed bug sheet, we were up early to head off to meet our tour bus. The walk there was very pleasant as we could walk round the man-made lake in the centre of town as the sun rose on the other side. Having not had time for breakfast we headed off along with our guide, three Australians and a Vietnamese couple who were visiting from France. Dalat is famous for growing some slightly unusual fruit and vegetables, relative to the rest of Vietnam which seems to only grow rice, as the climate in the mountains is so different, so our first two stops were at flower and coffee plantations. There was little to report for the plantations but to get there we had to pass by the hundreds of fields and greenhouses growing everything from strawberries to cauliflowers which were so big they may well have had their own gravitational field.

Successfully reaching the bottom of Elephant Falls

Following these stops we headed to Elephant Falls which is a fairly substantial waterfall about 35km outside Dalat. The Falls would prove to be a highlight of our trip for two reasons, as not only were they rather spectacular but we got to experience an unbelievable lack of health and safety regulations on the walk to the bottom. In any western country the stairs leading to the river below would be constructed out of metal or wood with fences and handrails which would ruin the natural look of the area but at least provide complete safety and ease. Not in Vietnam. Constructing stairs would take far too much effort and money. Instead they chose to simply chisel out the odd step on a few of the slippery rocks than lead down the side of the waterfall, meaning tourists had to scramble and jump over boulders to reach the bottom. I had a great time but the same cannot be said for the elderly Australian couple.

The one metre of handrail followed by the 25 metres of rocks and boulders to climb over

Just next to the Falls, demonstrating classic Feng Shui of building on a mountain next to flowing water, was a Buddhist temple containing various impressive five metre high statues of multi-armed Buddhas. This was the first time we’ve had to remove our shoes to enter a temple and as usual I was sporting a pair of vastly contrasting socks. We stopped in at a shop to pick up some water and got chatting to the shop owner who had amazing English seeing as she had only been learning for four months. As we left I managed to kick almost an entire plastic dining set, including the table and a couple of chairs, across the patio at which point the owner laughed at me and shouted over “You are very likeable”. Before getting back in the minibus we walked over to a small textiles workshop to see the local people referred to by our guide as the minorities. As usual I was described as handsome and Linz as having beautiful eyes which I’m not saying to show off but simply because this is becoming the standard sales technique of all Vietnamese people, as immediately afterwards they were pressing scarves, shirts and bags on us in an attempt to part us from our money.

On the subject of money the currency here is Dong which has so far provided two weeks of fairly immature, but still very amusing, jokes from the pair of us. To the disappointment of the locals I kept my Dong out of sight and we left to board the minibus to take us to our next destination.

Not far from Elephant Falls we visited a silk factory where among other things I was amazed to find out you can get 300metres of silk from one tiny silkworm cocoon. Other than watching the process of gaining silk from the cocoons I was highly entertained watching Linz freak out due to the very large population of flies hanging around the pile of dead silkworms. I know this isn’t textbook boyfriend behaviour but it was funny. She was relieved to get back in the minibus only to find that a few of them were now locked in it with us.

Our last stop before lunch was the old town railway station which is now more a tourist attraction, due to its beautiful architecture, rather than a transport hub. Like a ten year old child I was just happy to be able to sit in the cabin of one of the steam trains. Following this we returned to the centre of tour where we were fed pork and rice and could finally kill off the hunger that had tagged along with us since we left the hotel.

In the afternoon we first headed to Lang Bian Mountain where we would be driven to the peak at 2400 metres above sea level in a four wheeled drive Soviet jeep rather than our minibus. There was an option for two people to sit in the boot which we immediately took rather than be wedged on the back seat.

Heading up Lang Bian Mountain i the back of the jeep

The 360^o view from the top was stunning as on one side of the mountain we could see the entire of Dalat where as on the other side we could see nothing but hills and rivers for miles. The experience was made even better as we could enjoy the views almost completely alone and from the rather strange view point of a set of wooden swings.

Overlooking Dalat and the rivers than run through the mountains

Having come down the mountain we got back on the minibus, which seemed very tame compared to the jeep, and soon arrived in a village of a minority tribe who used to live in what is now the centre of Dalat but had to move away due to the town’s growth.

One of the minority villager's houses

We were greeted by the leader of the tribe who invited us into his home and talked to us about tribal life and, more interestingly, his involvement in the Vietnam War. This was the first time we had met someone who had been involved and it was amazing to hear about how he had worked as a medic in the American hospital in Nha Trang for the entire length of the war. He offered us rice wine and a selection of tales regarding how, as he is used to this very weak wine, foreigners have got him drunk on tiny amounts of western spirits. Before leaving I asked if I could try some sugarcane as I had seen people eating it around the village. It took a combination of locals and tourists to teach me how to get through the bark-like outer layer and then how you are meant to chew on the cane rather than eat it. It was a lot of effort but quite worth it.

Breaking my teeth in order to access the edible part of the sugar cane

On the way back to town, as it was the end of the tour, the bus dropped us of at one of Dalat’s premier and most bizarre attractions; the Crazy House. The building is the brainchild of a Vietnamese, but Russian educated, architect and is going to be very hard to describe as it resembles no other building in the world. It is a structured mess of weaving corridors broken up by abstract shaped windows without glass, separated roughly into three buildings merged together each accessible by bridges often so thin, with no handrails, than only one person can fit at a time. There was one particular hair raising moment where we had to pass by a German girl on a bridge passing over the very top of the house which was about a foot wide with barely anything to hold onto. The house also acts as a hotel and for between £25 to £80 per night you could stay in one of the themed rooms such as the Kangaroo or Bamboo rooms.

Part of the Crazy House as seen from the bridge we almost fell off at the top

Having survived the Crazy House we returned to the hotel for an hour before heading out for dinner at the V Cafe which we had spotted near where we were picked up for the tour. We had curry and a pizza but the place will be remembered for quite a few ice cream milkshakes which added a bit much to our bill but were very good.

The following morning we had to be up even earlier than the day before to catch our 7am bus to Mui Ne which turned out to be barely larger than our minibus from the day before. Our driver seemed to be trying to compete with our bus to Nha Trang for most outrageous vehicle control so far, as he insisted on accelerating down the mountains faster than I would have thought the bus could go. Conveniently we neither died nor, more pleasingly, had to deal with vomiting locals again.

That was quite a long blog, so as a reward please enjoy a photo of my favourite dog from Dalat...