Hoi An is ridiculously quaint

At present I sit in a cute cafe in the town of Hoi An which lies on the South Central Coast of Vietnam. This place is ridiculously quaint. Hoi An benefited immensely from international influence as an important South-East Asian trading port between the 15th and 19th centuries. The architecture, cuisine, and atmosphere are tasteful, rich and peaceful, respectively, reflecting the presence of  hundreds of years of Chinese, Japanese, French, Dutch, and Indian culture. Plus, it’s exceptionally well preserved, untouched by the war as a result of an agreement between the North and South – a beautiful place and a much needed break from other Vietnamese cities I’ve visited.

I’m staying at the Sunflower Hotel, comfortable digs with a pool and free buffet breakfast that I attack every morning without mercy. The old city stretches along both sides of the Thu Bon River, stores and cafes line the cobbled streets. Motorbikes are not allowed in the old city, a lesson I learned the hard way when my bike was towed in the middle of lunch one day. Cruising just outside the old city however, getting lost in the village outskirts, is a true pleasure.

Hoi An is known throughout the region for its tailors. Originally I intended to pick myself up a cheap tailored suit to ship home. But when I arrived at the shop, greeted by several young Vietnamese woman wearing ao dais, somehow things spiraled out of control. One of them took me aside – she said some things, I said some things, one thing led to another and before I knew it I was getting fitted for a three-piece cashmere suit and two dress shirts. I came back the next day to get three custom tailored t-shirts and two pairs of shorts. I nearly went for a pea coat and leather jacket but was finally able to control myself.

I’m traveling with an American guy named Evan, a versatile Jew from Miami with whom I share arguably too much in common. Evan’s got some pipes and enjoys singing to me often. I do not object. I would also be remiss if I neglected to mention that years ago he was a member of a group called the Hip Hop Kidz who performed all over the country and on television. This led to a stint as a back-up dancer for the Backstreet Boys. Who’s traveling with a former Backstreet Boys back-up dancer? I am.

The store where I bought my suit had a really nice Yamaha piano, new and in tune. I was there for five fittings and played for the staff every time. Sometimes they wouldn’t let me try on my suit until I played a couple of songs. Evan accompanied me with some sweet vocals on my last 2 trips. The all-female staff, well, they were smitten. They said something about me stealing their hearts, I’m not sure I forget.

Another gentleman called Emil had been with us since Saigon but he’s just left to fly off to Hong Kong. Emil is an impeccably groomed Norwegian with an enviable wardrobe of short shorts and wide-chested v-necks. He is an architect by trade, ladykiller by nightfall, and viking demigod by birthright. In short, he’s killing it.

Together, the three of us bought motorbikes in Saigon and journeyed to Hoi An, a stretch of around 1,340 km (840 miles). We’ve got plenty more ahead of us, but more about this trip will come in the next post.