I Haven’t Been Everywhere, But It’s On My List: Le Petit Paris: Da Lat

Long story short, Lucian purchased a motorcycle in Saigon for $300 in the backpacker's district. It was the model he was looking for, a Russian Minsk. Happily, he spent the next day charting his course and making sure the bike was running well. I decided to buy a bus ticket and meet him in Da Lat, a small city northwest of Saigon in the south central highlands. I couldn't see myself trying to maneuver on the busy and somewhat dangerous roads of Vietnam. My temper just wasn't going to have it...plus, it was impossible to find an automatic on the cheap.

Lucian's recent purchase

So, fast forward to the next day. Lucian awoke, packed up, and set off in the early morning. I caught my bus at 9:15 AM, though with very little sleep, and silently prayed that I would have both of the seats to myself. God, I was dumb. The bus was full, maybe even over capacity, and I shared my time on the bus with an elderly Vietnamese woman who spoke zero English and looked me up and down as I smiled and pointed to my ticket with the seat number. She refused to move from the window seat, to which I was assigned and furthermore, refused to move her belongings which occupied half of the aisle seat. I knew it was going to be a long ride. To make matters more irritating, somehow this woman had a produce department in one of her large bags and continued to eat for most of our 8 hour journey. Side note: the trip from Saigon to Da Lat is only about 200 miles (8 hours, REALLY?). She nibbled her food over my knee and stuffed the cores and rinds from her fruits into my seat's pocket. At one point, I had just about had it when she dropped her entire (sticky) cob of corn in my lap...luckily, the woman was let off in a town about 2 hours before reaching Da Lat.

At one point on my bus journey, I got a true sense of how terrifying Vietnamese bus drivers are and how scary the roads in Vietnam are. There we were, perched atop the side of a steep mountain and our large charter bus maneuvered quite quickly around the dirt roads, inches from the side which had the disappointing protection of caution tape strung alongside. There were points when I thought, "I hope my passport stays with my body so they can call the American consulate. I'm going to die." The bus feverishly passed large trucks and moved from the right to left lane while taking corners. We hit a major construction zone at one point with 1/2 of a lane open and both sides of the road using the tiny space we had. It made no sense why we couldn't wait for other trucks to slowly and somewhat safely navigate through this mountain, it's not like we were making good time into Da Lat.

As we finally rolled in at dusk, I glanced at my notes and reminded myself of which hostel Lucian and I had decided to meet at. I hopped off the bus, grabbed my pack (which seems much bigger and heavier, though I really haven't added much) and looked for some mode of transportation. A guy sitting on his motorcycle close to the bus had an extra helmet and offered it to me. I gave him the address and he charged me the very fair rate of $.25 to take me to the Hotel Europa with views of the faux Eiffel Tower and colorful rooftops of the "suburbs." I checked in and left word with the front desk man that a Mr. Lucian would be checking in later.

Not even 20 minutes into my stay, a soft rapping on the door startled me and I opened the door to find a very tired and hungry Lucian, wet from the rain and grimy from riding his bike for 10 hours. We explored a bit, looking longingly for burgers and fries as we were sure noodles and rice were just not going to cut it tonight. We found enough food to cure our craving and we walked around the main part of the city. According to our Lonely Planet, "Da Lat looks like a cross between Vietnam and the French Alps." I suppose I have nothing to compare it to, but I will say that the weather is quite comfortable up in the hills.

The closest thing to the real Eiffel Tower that I've come to thus far

A small view of the colorful homes in Da Lat

Today we visited Hang Nga's Crazy House on the other side of town. The crazy house belonging to a Vietnamese woman who had a real sense of bizarre architecture. The attraction also serves as a working guest house where tourists can sleep in differently themed rooms, ususally centered around one animal. The pictures say more than I can, but it definitely reminded me of visits to the Enchanted Forest with my family when I was younger. By the looks of it, there were plans to add on much more the original house structure as the back of the grounds was a certifiable construction area. One more day in Da Lat and then it's off to the beachside city of Nha Trang.