Dalat

The day we arrived in Dalat, there was a huge festival taking place. I found this out because the owner of a guesthouse told us, "Huge festival this weekend. Must book now. Elsewhere everything booked."

I said, "Yeah, yeah, yeah", and proceeded to ignore him completely. About an hour later I felt bad for blowing the guy off, he was telling God's honest truth. There wasn't diddly in the way of accommodation in the city of Dalat. Jon and I checked over 13 (!) guesthouses before we finally found rooms. A bit stressful.

Our subsequent restaurant search was a bit crazy as well. Apparently the maps of Dalat in Lonely Planet guide are about 90% incorrect. This is not tight. This is especially not tight when you are searching for a restaurant and are hungry enough to chew off your arm. We ended up at this artsy cafe with spectacular decor that served excellent pumpkin soup (it's my new obsession). I followed that up with a spectacular veggie sandwich at a local cafe.

The next day we relocated to another guesthouse. By mid-morning we were both out of money. We spent the next hour searching for an ATM that would work with a Visa card. No such luck. After lunch, we only had 1.70 between us. Now this would buy dinner, but not much else, so we kept working the ATMs until one (finally) spat out a wad of cash. It was a fantastic moment. I did a little happy dance.

With our new-found wealth, we decided to rent bicycles to see the surrounding countryside, namely the falls outside the city limits. (At first we were going to rent a moto. I told the rental lady neither of us had ever driven a moto, and was that a problem? Apparently she thought so, hence the bicycles.) Now, a little bit about Dalat. It's one of the coolest places in Vietnam (people go bezerk buying coats and other winter garb), and this is mostly due to the city's high altitude. As we all know, high altitude means hills. Hills mean strenuous biking. (For pete's sake, our bus could barely chug-a-lug its way up the mountain, why oh why did I think I could effortlessly pedal up them?)

Anyhow, aside from nearly squashing myself in oncoming traffic and getting stuck in round-abouts, the way out of town was a fantastic ride. I was coasting downhill like a banshee, even passing motos! It was great. The falls were really pretty; it had a bit of an amusement park atmosphere (there was a roller coaster present) though it was still lots of fun.

The way back into town was not so fun, on account of the trip being uphill. I was pedaling like mad, going nowhere, baby! Ah, it was all in good fun. I returned my bike, showered, and got ready for dinner. We ate at the elusive restaurant we search for our first night in Dalat, and it was great! Well worth the search.

The next day, we booked tours with the "Easy Riders" a group of tour guides who tend to middle-aged, male, and have no qualms about sporting leather jackets in the summer months. My tour guide liked to talk in riddles and metaphors, saying things like "I am the original Easy Rider" and he told us nobody can copy his tour because "all the knowledge is in here (as he taps his head)." Well, let me tell you, he kept all his mysterious knowledge of Dalat in his little noggin, because he made his poor partner do all the talking. I didn't mind too much; the partner was highly entertaining (some gems of the day: the silkworms go on their 'honeymoon', perhaps you will become your flower's flower, etc.)

Our day tour included stops at a Catholic cathedral (where Jon's driver ran over a pedestrian--oops!), the main Pagoda, a minority village, a silk farm and factory, a rose farm, another pagoda and waterfall, and finally the 'crazy house' (a hotel sort of place with kitschy art decor). We had frequent stops. This was good, because my driver had a very large bum. His bum took up most of the seat, leaving precious little room for my own behind. This did was not pleasing to my bum. A significant portion of the area was defoliated by Agent Orange during the American/Vietnamese War. We had a few stops to look at those areas as well.

The stop at the minority village was pretty cool. It was not touristy, which was really refreshing. We got a good explanation of daily life in the village, so I have to give my guide some props. All the little kids were quite excited and mugged for the camera. We handed out some sweets, until my driver bogarted the candy, keeping the leftovers for himself. (He was truly a riot.) We returned a bit late (just in time for more pumpkin soup at a swanky cafe down the road), and then I hit the hay. It was a long day, and I was tired.

The next day was kind of a do-nothing day. I did some stuff on the internet, reconfirmed our bus tickets for departure the next day, and read some. Dalat is a bit famous for the tat sold at its markets. Whatever kind of crap you can imagine (and don't want to imagine) is available at dirt-cheap prices. The horrid stuff sold in the marketplace served as an impetus for a competition between Jon and me. We each had 40,000 Dong (2.50 USD) and one hour to purchase the most horrible souvenir we could find. I got an icky amulet, a crappy rubber snake, and a harmonica. Jon purchased a giant fake jade frog, which was covered in warts. (I later discovered the frog was not only hideous, it glowed in the dark, making it unstoppably ugly.) Yeah, safe to say I lost that round. Jon wins.

And yeah, I ate more pumpkin soup that evening. I swear my skin was starting to get an orange tint to it.

Though the climate in Dalat was beautiful, (I didn't sweat immediately upon exiting my guesthouse) it was time to move on.