I don’t know what I love most… The mighty call of the mountains wrapped in the mystique and mystery of a nebular mist draped over the valleys. Or the ever-changing moods and caprices of the sea, bowing to the will of whimsical winds chasing wispy or thunderous clouds…
Depends upon my frame of mind, I suppose… Do I crave testing how long I can hold out traipsing up and down the slopes, or do I fancy something a little gentler such as a peaceful stroll along the beach, adding to my year-round tan and maybe dipping in a toe.. Just not too far, just in case Jaws lies in wait in nearby waters. How can a seventies movie nightmare still have me in its unyielding grip… but I admit I only feel save when I can touch the seabed and spy my toes through a glass-bottomed surface.. And definitely not too many waves or ripples to obscure what may lurk beneath. I am a coward at heart, I know…
After nine months of feeling like a virtual prisoner in Quang Ngai, I finally managed to persuade the powers that be to change my day off. It used to be Fridays but with only one day out of the shackles each week, the Friday sentence was like having eternal doom cast on you… Death row, with Saturdays and Sundays hard labour: seven and a half hours of face-to-face teaching, starting at 8.00am and persevering until 8.45 pm with, granted, a generous break for lunch and a short break around 5.00 pm. Exhausting! Being allocated Friday as my day off certainly limited my travel opportunities, as I could never venture anywhere that would involve an overnight stay… Maybe if I had been braver and got on a motorbike I might have seen more than my weekly glimpse of My Khe beach… The sights of Quang Ngai – enthralling as they may have appeared in week one – have long since lost their luster. Still, on the upside, things have changed for the better since the June break and with Monday being my new day of freedom, and my classes on Tuesday starting in the evening, I can finally explore and go a bit further afield…
I heard about the Sa Huynh Beach Resort from fellow expats: an American couple who work in Duc Pho with victims of Agent Orange (watch later posts in a couple of weeks…). The perfect place for a bit of relaxation and replenishing sapped energy after a long week at work. As a bonus for me, Sa Huynh is also easily accessible by local bus, just over an hour to the South of Quang Ngai. And Vietnamese public transport is quite affordable, maybe not as cheap as in China, but still a good option for those who’d rather not be in charge of motorized two-wheelers…
I arrive in Sa Huynh just before lunchtime and, through the pine trees, a pristine beach is beckoning. Behind a generous stretch of golden sand, a cerulean sea expands into a rivaling azure sky, fleetingly brushed with white wispy clouds. The beach is deserted, only the soothing whispers of the tranquil waves my company. At midday, when beach-loving Westerners chase the sun and a tan, Vietnamese locals shy away from the heat, instead staying indoors for lunch and a siesta. The beach resort is not yet on the touristy agenda and most of the visitors I encounter at the resort are Vietnamese holidaymakers.
After lunch, I venture back to the great outdoors, the sea still blue. But behind me, over the hills, a storm is brewing, the searing heat over the water boosting the moisture in a leaden sky. A Vietnamese summer is hot, and often very wet with heavy afternoon showers. Thankfully those violent bursts of pelting rain are usually rather short-lived, a mere reminder that we shouldn’t take the sunny weather for granted and should set about our business and the world armed with the ubiquitous umbrella. A handy gadget come rain or shine. Of course, my umbrella has long since been windswept into the bin and I now live in hope that I can survive, if not entirely avoid, the odd shower. Compared to England, this is warm rain, a heavenly blessing sent from above. It’s only water after all, another baptism will surely not do any harm.
I stay on the beach as long as seems sensible, but retreat to safer and drier ground when the big drops make their entrance. Not to my hotel room though, I think I have plenty of time… I make a detour to the hotel reception to find out tomorrow’s bus times, a good pastime on a rainy afternoon. Within minutes the heavens are in full fury. Bright lightning flashes clash swords across the blackened sky, explosive booms echo through the endless hollow over the waves. A loud crack knocks out the power, and the resort descends into darkness, if only briefly. An hour later, the storm dissipates to leave the air refreshed and I once again make it to the beach…
The deluge of water has drawn new patterns in the sand and raging rivulets of water have chiselled new channels across the beach. On the horizon, a watery rainbow slowly creeps up. Hardly noticeable at first, but slowly gaining in prominence and brightness, and eventually, however briefly, stretching to a full arch. But by then, I have taken my phone back to my room, so I can join the locals and swim in the sea and enjoy the last couple of hours of daylight.
I am not a fan of very early mornings, although these days I seem to be awake around 6 am every day… But I want to catch the sunrise and set my alarm for 5.00 am.. Yesterday’s dense clouds linger and obscure where the sun slowly edges itself above the horizon, but the resulting sunrise is no less spectacular as a palette of pastel clouds and a faint sun mirror themselves in the still waters below. And I am not the only one making the most of the cooler hours. Whereas the beaches look pretty much abandoned later on when the sun climbs to its zenith, in the early hours Vietnamese people are out in droves on the beach enjoying vigorous exercise, brisk walks and playful swimming.
Work forces me back to reality, I have classes on Tuesday evening. But before leaving, I spend more time on the beach. Almost solitary, bar one small Vietnamese family not afraid of the sun, but it’s only 9.00am. The early clouds have all but vanished leaving the sky and sea yet again an enviable blue, as if the last 24 hours never happened.
Picture perfect.
Lieve Round The World 