Hoi An and My Son: Vietnam North to South Part 12

A Twee Tourist Town, the Killing Fields of the American War and the Heart of the Champa Empire

03-Apr-2012

Hoi An: A Trading Town

Vietnam

We left Da Nang, and after passing the Montgomerie Golf Links – another sign of the changes in Vietnam – drove for another 30 km or so across sandy scrubland and through a straggle of modern suburbs to reach the centre of Hoi An in mid-afternoon.

Hoi An, sitting beside the estuary of the Thu Bon River, has been a port since the 2nd century BC. From the 7th to the 10th century it was the centre for the spice trade which brought wealth to the Champa kingdoms, but it its heyday was in the 16th century. The trade winds brought silk, ivory, porcelain and medicines from China and Japan, textiles, weaponry, lead and sulphur from Europe and all were traded in Hoi An. The Vietnamese imperial tax collectors took their cut and everybody grew rich.

Hoi An

In 1639 the Shogun prohibited foreign travel by theJapanese, which left the field open for the Chinese for the next 150 years. In the late 18th century European traders began to gain concessions on mainland China and no longer needed the Vietnamese middle man. At the same time the Thu Bon started to silt up, and the great days of Hoi An were over.

Left behind by history Hoi An avoided serious destruction in the French and American wars and set about reinventing itself as a tourist trap. The somewhat self-consciously fossilised old town became a UNESCO world heritage site in 1999 and has since grown a thriving crop of hotels, many of them along the road from the old town to the beach.

Hoi An's Japanese Bridge

Our driver dropped us by the Japanese bridge, originally constructed in the 16th century, but rebuilt several times since. In keeping with Hoi An’s tourist trap status you have to pay to walk across it. As there is a perfectly adequate footbridge nearby we did not bother.

The Japanese bridge, Hoi An

We wandered round the pleasant streets of the old town with their Chinese...

Chinese style, Hoi An

...and Japanese buildings.

Japanese style, Hoi An

Some are open so that we could wander in and look at the old wooden panels and roof beams. On the first really hot day of our whole Vietnam journey we marvelled at the old houses’ ability to remain cool without air conditioning.

Cool, dark panelled interior, Hoi An

Chinese Assembly Halls, Hoi An

The Chinese residents grouped themselves according to their place of origin and built themselves Assembly Halls.....

Chinese Assembly Hall entrance, Hoi An

...to act as both community centres and places of worship - they did the same in Penang where many of the community centres remain active and prosperous. Behind attractive and colourful gardens....

Chinese Assembly Hall, Hoi An

...are meeting halls and Taoist temples very like those of Guangdong or Hong Kong.

Taoist Temple, Chinese Assembly Hall, Hoi An

Hoi An is undoubtedly pretty, peaceful and calm. We had been warned that it can be busy in the morning when the tour buses arrive, but we spent two afternoons there, and it was never crowded. On the other hand, a high proportion of the people we saw in the streets, whether walking or riding hired bicycles, were western tourists. The old town is the central part of a small city and tourists are always a visible presence. The streets are full of restaurants which are mainly aimed at foreigners, as are the shops.

Apart from this 'pop-up' restaurant….

Mobile Restaurant on the move, Hoi An

…the town seemed to have given up on gritty reality in favour of presenting an image to visitors, and that is not our sort of town. We did find some more interesting areas the next day, but our first afternoon was a case of ‘this is nice,’ followed by a slow dawning that it was too ‘nice’ to be true.

04-Apr-2012

A Place where 'Success' was Measured by the 'Body Count'

The next day we drove an hour or so in-land to visit My Son. We travelled up the valley of the Thu Bon, through paddy fields green with rice and over long rickety bridges, some of which retained the structures of their wartime guard posts. The American War raged across this region; villagers were herded into selected districts without regard for the farmers need to work their fields, and the cleared areas were declared free fire zones on the assumption that anyone still there was Viet Cong. Those killed were deemed to be the enemy, regardless of age or gender, and the success of a mission was judged on the basis of body count. In 28 speeches between 1964 and 1968 President Johnson referred to the need to win the ‘hearts and minds’ of the Vietnamese people if the American’s were to win the war. Maybe he was right, and it was in areas such as this the American military made their most strenuous efforts to ensure they lost.

Through paddy fields green with rice

16,000 people died in this small area, Minh told us, while the Americans lost 54,000 in the whole war. He did not say only 54,000, but the inference was there.

Vietnamese war memorial and cemetary between Hoi An and My Son

All is now peaceful and the Vietnamese, being a resourceful people have gathered up the shrapnel and spent shell cases melted them down and turned them into useful artefacts to sell at roadside stalls.

'Spears into ploughshares' - re-purposed ordnance stall between Hoi An and My Son

My Son, the Religious Heart of the Champa Kingdoms

From the 4th to the 14th centuries My Son was the religious centre for the surrounding Champa cities and the burial place of Champa kings. With the fall of the Champa, My Son was deserted, forgotten and slowly reclaimed by the jungle. It was rediscovered by the French in 1898 who put some effort into archaeology and restoration between then and 1943.

In August 1969 the American’s came to believe the Viet Cong were using My Son as their headquarters. A week of bombing did more damage than the jungle had managed in six hundred years. Fortunately most of the artefacts had been removed to the safety of the Champa museum we had seen in Da Nang the day before. What was left was declared a UNESCO World Heritage site in 1999.

My Son is a large site occupying a wooded valley below the Cat’s Tooth Mountains. Despite the best efforts of the B52s there are still several areas of substantial ruins linked by jungle paths. Although the Champa were Hindu, they were not Indian in origin, yet we found ourselves among buildings which felt far more Indian than Vietnamese.

My Son

Conservation work has stabilised most of the structures – though there is much left to do. Wandering around the ruins and in and out of the larger buildings gave us a sense of this long dead civilization, while the continuous battle against the encroachment of the jungle reminded us how easily a civilization can disappear, even without the use of high explosive.

Minh and me, My Son

Champa building techniques are still being studied, in particular their use of resin mixed with ground mollusc shells and crushed bricks to produce almost seamless joints.

My Son

As in India the carvings are as impressive as the buildings. Detailed depictions of Vishnu, Shiva and Nandi, elephants and flowers were abundant, some still looking freshly cut, others suffering from various degrees of erosion.

A damaged Nandi, My Son

We were instructed to stick to the marked paths as the area is still mined and littered with unexploded ordnance.

Jungle path between the sites, My Son

Brightly coloured butterflies fluttered alongside the path, I waited patiently for one to sit still long enough to be photographed. Lagging behind Lynne and Minh, I briefly found myself alone on a jungle path.

The Knight butterfly, Lebadea Martha (I think)

What, I thought, if the path was narrower and rather less well made? What if I did not have a guide book in my hand and sandals on my feet, but a pack on my back, a rifle in my hand and army boots on my feet? What if there were eyes watching me from the jungle? What if they were hostile eyes, waiting silently until….? I found myself looking round apprehensively and then peering into the jungle as my imagination created shapes in the dense vegetation. I was perfectly safe, and I knew it, but for an instant I caught the slightest hint of what it might have been like for a GI far from home and surrounded by enemies. I did not envy him. (see In This Place, but in Another Time)

Back in Hoi An

Cao Lau for Lunch

We returned to Hoi An for lunch and Minh left us in the centre of town with instructions to visit a certain restaurant (sadly we failed to note the name) and eat cao lau. Ever obedient, we thoroughly enjoyed the local speciality described by The Rough Guide to Vietnam ‘as rice-flour noodles, bean sprouts and pork-rind croutons in a light soup flavoured with mint and star anise and topped with slices of pork’. Somehow spring rolls also become involved; they always do in Vietnam.

Lynne eats cao lau, Hoi An

Exploring old Hoi An

We spent some more time exploring the old town and made a few purchases. One advantage of a tourist town was that I could buy a t-shirt. I had failed in Hue - the XXXXL would not go over my head – but I found an almost identical shirt in Hoi An sized XXXXXL which fitted perfectly.

Then we walked along the river side and looked at the fishing fleet….

Fishing fleet, Hoi An

…and some fishing nets very like the Chinese nets which are such a feature in Kerala, though they are unknown in China.

'Chinese' fishing nets, Hoi An

We photographed a ferryman rowing his passenger across the river…..

Ferryman, Hoi an

….. and strolled through the vegetable market.

Vegetable market, Hoi An

We liked the Hoi An riverside, it seemed connected with Vietnamese life unlike the carefully preserved ‘Disneyland’ a few blocks away.

We arrived back at our hotel, another ‘Disneyland’ consisting of comfortable two storey cabins set in a garden and linked with walkways at ground and first floor level.

We spent the rest of the afternoon swimming and lounging by the pool before retreating to our room for a sun-downer on one of our balconies (two balconies - well, that’s how the other half live!). Later we consumed a quantity of pork cooked in a clay pot, grilled duck, sautéed green vegetables, rice and beer at a nearby restaurant.

Back on a balcony for a nightcap we watched geckos skittering about the walls in their ceaseless endeavour to keep us free from insects.

Few reptiles are cute, but geckos are, Ancient House Resort Hotel, Hoi An

In the morning we returned to Da Nang for the hour long flight down to Ho Chi Minh City.

Vietnam North to South

Prelude: Raybans in Heathrow and Saigon
Part 1: Hanoi (1) Ethnic Minorities, The Old City and Water Puppets
Part 2: Hanoi (2) Bat Trang, Quan Ho Music and Fighting Cocks
Part 3: Ha Long Bay
Part 4: Lao Cai, Coc Ly Market and Sa Pa
Part 5: Trekking from Sa Pa (1), Sa Pa to Ta Van
Part 6: Trekking from Sa Pa (2) Ta Van to Ban Den
Part 7: Trekking from Sa Pa (3), Around Ban Den then back to Hanoi
Part 8: Hanoi (3), The Ho Chi Minh Mausoleum and the Temple of Literature
Part 9: Hue (1), The Citadel, The Battle of Hue 1968 and Some New Things to Eat
Part 10: Hue (2), A Self-Immolating Monk, an Impotent Emperor and Imperial Dinner
Part 11: Da Nang
Part 12: Hoi An and My Son
Part 13: Ho Chi Minh City (Saigon)
Part 14: The Mekong Delta (1), Can Bei and a Cornucopia of Fruit
Part 15: The Mekong Delta (2), To Vinh Long and Can Tho
Part 16: The Mekong Delta (3): Cai Rang and My Tho
Part 17: The Cu Chi Tunnels and the Cao Dai Great Temple

THE END

Da Nang: Vietnam North to South Part 11

The Pleasures of a Coastal Drive to the City that, 45 Years Ago, Dominated the News

Hue to the Hai Van Pass

Vietnam

Tuesday morning was still a little misty after last week's tropical storm, but it was now warm and threatened to become warmer, perhaps even hot and sunny. Ten days ago we had flown north from the heat of Ho Chi Minh City and although we had remained south of the Tropic of Cancer, the weather had hardly been tropical. Drizzle, mist and overcast skies had followed us around and although it had been cold only in the far north, it had not been hot anywhere.

Dam Cau Hai Lagoon

We left Hue on Highway 1A, driving roughly southeast until we reached what looked like the sea but turned out to be a lagoon, Dam Cau Hai ('dam' means 'lagoon'). It does have a narrow outlet to the sea, but that was on the far side, some ten kilometres away and lost in the haze. The road descended to the shore and we could see that the warm, blue, shallow water was extensively used for farming shellfish.

Dam Cau Hai

Leaving the lagoon we passed a Christian graveyard. As a connoisseur of graveyards Lynne could not help noting the many differences from the Taoist graveyard we had seen on the road to Ha Long Bay.

Christian graveyard south of Dam Cau Hai

Dam Lap An

The road now ran due east towards the real coast for 15km before it swung south round the head of another lagoon, Dam Lap An. There was no danger of mistaking this one for the sea as it was to our right.

We paused to stretch our legs, photograph the lagoon…..

Dam Lap An

…. and these two ladies, who sat under an umbrella shucking oysters with remarkable speed and dexterity. That they both had a full complement of fingers was a tribute to that dexterity.

Oyster shuckers near An Cu

We drove down the spit dividing the lagoon from the sea, to the village of An Cu. From here Highway 1A crosses the narrow stretch of water at the tip of the spit on a modern bridge and heads straight for a tunnel under a spur of the inland mountain range which here stretches out to the coast. We took a smaller road across an older bridge, wiggled along the coast opposite the spit, and under Highway 1A and headed for the hills

An Cu with the lagoon to the left, open sea to the right and the Highway 1A bridge

The Hai Van Pass

We followed the older version of the highway, winding our way slowly up the 500m Hai Van (Ocean Cloud) Pass. In the Top Gear Vietnam Special Jeremy Clarkson described it as a deserted ribbon of perfection — one of the best coast roads in the world. I hate to agree with Jeremey Clarkson, but he was right except that it was hardly deserted; those who need to get somewhere use the tunnel, the tourists, all of them, go over the top

'A deserted ribbon of perfection', Hai Van Pass

In medieval times the pass marked the boundary between the Vietnamese Dai Viet kingdom to the north and the Champa kingdoms to the south. It ceased to be the boundary in the fifteenth century when the Vietnamese started their southward exspansion, but it remained an important strategic point and was fortified in turn by the Chinese, French and Americans.

Assorted Fortifications, Hai Van Pass

Descent into Da Nang

The city of Da Nang came into view as we descended the pass. There is no name more evocative of the news bulletins of the late 60s and early 70s than Da Nang and it was here, in March 1965, that American ground involvement started when the 3rd US Marine division landed on Red Beach.

Red Beach, Da Nang

Da Nang

They came originally to support the Da Nang airbase, but were soon involved in combat operations. By the end of the year there were 200,000 American troops in Vietnam and half a million by the winter of 1967. In 1954 the senate majority leader, William F. Knowland, had observed that ‘Using United States ground forces in the Indo-China jungle would be like trying to cover an elephant with a handkerchief.’ A lot of people went to a great deal of trouble to prove him right.

Da Nang is an ancient city, probably founded by the Champa at the end of the 3rd century AD. That it now has a population of 800,000 and is the fifth biggest city in Vietnam is largely a result of American involvement.

The Champa Museum, Da Nang

We stopped to visit the Champa Museum. The Champa arrived from Borneo in the 3rd century AD. A Hindu people, their power reached its zenith in the 9th and 10th centuries when they ruled central and southern Vietnam from the Hai Van Pass to the Mekong Delta, although it remains uncertain whether theirs was a single empire or a collection of competing kingdoms.

Eventually the Vietnamese started chipping away at Champa territory, annexing the area south of the Hai Van Pass (including Da Nang) in 1471, although it was not until 1832 that the last of the Champa lands were absorbed into Vietnam. Today about 100,000 Cham people remain in the southern part of their former domain. They still speak Cham, a Malayo-Polynesian language, and still practise Hinduism. [Other Cham converted to Islam. In 2014 we encountered Muslim Cham at Chau Doc in the Mekong Delta near the Cambodian border. Battles between the Khmer and the Cham are the subject of many carvings at Angkor Wat and neighbouring temples]

The small but well organised museum has a wealth of statues. Some look very Indian, like this statue of Ganesh…..

Ganesh, Champa Museum, Da Nang

….others show a strong Buddhist influence….

Champa Museum, Da Nang

….while others seem Chinese in style.

Champa Museum, Da Nang

Dinner at the Apsara Restautant, Da Nang

Lunch was at the nearby Apsara Restaurant which was doing good business with both foreigners and locals. Disappointingly it was another set meal - restaurants tend to play safe with these and after a while they become a little samey - but the quality was good and they were determined that we would not leave hungry. We did justice to the tapioca noodles stuffed with pork and prawns, fried spring rolls with more prawns, sautéed beef (with French Fries!), grilled pork with spices, fried rice with shrimps and finally watermelon.

China Beach and Da Nang Airbase and Civilian Airport

The wide roads on which we resumed our southward journey are another legacy of the American occupation. To our left was China Beach, much used by the Americans for R & R. Minh said that in his (post-war) youth it had been a palm fringed sandy beach open to all, but now most of the palms have been replaced by buildings, and the beach is being carved up by ‘resort hotels’ as Da Nang, already an important port, aspires to become a holiday resort as well.

Da Nang's wide streets

To our right was the wall of the Da Nang airbase with hangars clearly visible behind it. Originally a French base, it was handed over to the South Vietnamese in 1955 and the first Americans arrived in 1961. It would become the major American airbase in Vietnam, at its peak handling over 2500 air operations daily, which at the time made it the world’s busiest airport.

Hangars, Da Nang Airbase

It remains a Vietnamese military airbase, but is also the city’s civil airport. We would return there on Thursday to fly to Ho Chi Minh City. Unlike Hue’s tiny airport with its single baggage carousel Da Nang has a large modern terminal with rows of check-in desks, only one of which was open. We passed through security into a cavernous departure lounge capable of handling a dozen flights simultaneously. The only people there were the hundred or so waiting for our flight. It would be our third internal flight and, like the others, the passengers were almost entirely western tourists. If they had to rely on local travellers Vietnam Airlines could replace their internal flights with a taxi.

As we waited, three single-seater jets took off – I thought they were aged Soviet built MiGs but I am certainly no expert. Fifteen minutes later our plane, the only civilian airliner in the airport, pushed back on time, but we had to wait at the end of the runway for the MiGs to return. They seemed flimsy vehicles to land at such high speed on such spindly legs.

Marble Mountain

South of the airport we drove towards the landmark of ‘Marble Mountain’.

Marble Mountain, Da Nang

Myth relates that the turtle god laid an egg on the shore, and the nymph that emerged broke the shell into five pieces which became the five peaks of the mountain. So much of it has been quarried away that it is difficult to tell how many peaks it once had. The marble for Ho Chi Minh’s tomb comes from here but quarrying has since been stopped. There does, however, seem to be plenty stockpiled in the workshop we visited.

Marble workshop, Da Nang

Like the wood-carver in Hue their equipment seemed ill-designed for delicate work but, without any noticeable plan, the sculptors produced wonders with apparent ease.

End product, Marble Mountain, Da Nang

As the possibility of fitting a substantial piece of marble into our hand luggage was small, we left them to it and continued south towards Hoi An, a UNESCO World Heritage Site and the subject of the next post…..

Vietnam North to South

Prelude: Raybans in Heathrow and Saigon

Part 1: Hanoi (1) Ethnic Minorities, The Old City and Water Puppets

Part 2: Hanoi (2) Bat Trang, Quan Ho Music and Fighting Cocks

Part 3: Ha Long Bay

Part 4: Lao Cai, Coc Ly Market and Sa Pa

Part 5:Trekking from Sa Pa (1), Sa Pa to Ta Van

Part 6: Trekking from Sa Pa (2) Ta Van to Ban Den

Part 7: Trekking from Sa Pa (3), Around Ban Den then back to Hanoi

Part 8: Hanoi (3), The Ho Chi Minh Mausoleum and the Temple of Literature

Part 9: Hue (1), The Citadel, The Battle of Hue 1968 and Some New Things to Eat

Part 10: Hue (2), A self-Immolating Monk, an Impotent Emperor and Imperial Dinner

Part 11: Da Nang

Part 12: Hoi An and My Son

Part 13:Ho Chi Minh City (Saigon)

Part 14: The Mekong Delta (1), Can Bei and a Cornucopia of Fruit

Part 15: The Mekong Delta (2), To Vinh Long and Can Tho

Part 16: The Mekong Delta (3): Cai Rang and My Tho

Part 17: The Cu Chi Tunnels and the Cao Dai Gret Temple

THE END

Hue (2), A Self-Sacrificing Monk, an Impotent Emperor and an Imperial Dinner: Vietnam North to South Part 10

A Garden House, The Thien Mu Pagoda, Tu Duc's 'Modest' Mausoleum and an Impressive Dinner

An Hien Garden House, Hue

Vietnam

Lynne tells me it was pouring with rain at 5 am but by the time we surfaced it may not have been the finest morning Hue has ever seen, but it did at least give grounds for optimism.

We set off at 9 with Vinh for a full morning’s sightseeing.

Once Gia Long had established his Imperial City, the rich and powerful queued up to build their own houses nearby. A line of these ‘Garden Houses’ stretches along the road beside the Perfume River upstream from the citadel.

The roadside entrance to An Hien is discreet. A tree lined path leads through a garden up to the house. In design it is not dissimilar to the more modest dwelling in Ta Van where we stayed with Tuonz and his family, but the setting and materials used are very different.

A tree lined path leads up from the road. An Hien, Hue

Both are single storey dwellings where the front can be almost entirely opened. In Tuonz’s house the rough wooden doors opened onto a concrete yard, at An Hien mahogany panels slide back to give a view of a water lily covered pond.

An Hien and its lily covered pool, Hue

Mahogany pillars and intricately carved and gilded mahogany panels (Tuonz favoured hardboard) surrounded the ancestor’s altar. Ancestor worship, Vinh said, binds all Vietnamese together, whether Buddhist, Daoist or Animist. Even the houses of Catholics, he claimed, would have an ancestor altar.

Carved Panel, An Hien

On the altar were photographs of deceased family members, and candles, flowers and fruit were laid out as offerings. To the side, a statue of Buddha stood on its own small altar. On the wall was a family tree, the Chinese characters written in gold-leaf.

Ancestor's Altar with the family tree in Chinese characters to the left, An Hien

On the left is a room with a table and chairs to welcome visitors. The house is still owned and occupied by the descendants of the courtier who built it, so our visit was limited to the public areas.

To the side and back is a beautifully tended garden with trees bearing jackfruit, fig, persimmon, coconut, durian, papaya, pomelo, lemon, banana and mangosteen. It was clearly laid out by a fruit lover, but there was no sign of yesterday’s mystery non-apple [Hue (1) at end of post].

Among the fruit trees, An Hien, Hue

Thien Mu Pagoda, Hue

A kilometre or so further up the road we came to the Thien Mu Pagoda, built in 1601 by the Nguyen lords when they were merely local governors, not emperors. In Vietnam ‘pagoda’ refers to the whole temple and monastery complex, not to a particular tower-like building. The Phuoc Duyen Tower, which corresponds more to our idea of a pagoda, was added in 1844 and has become the unofficial symbol of Hue.

Phuoc Duyen Tower, Thien Mu Pagoda

The complex is popular with western tourists and locals, but once we got away from the busloads of teenagers on school outings, we found it a quiet and peaceful place.

Novice Monk, Thien Mu Pagoda, Hue

The Story of Thích Quàng Đúc

The shrine of Thich Quang Duc on the corner where he died
Ho Chi Minh City

One of the stranger exhibits is an aged Austin Westminster car. The monastery had a tradition of political activity dating back to colonial times. After the French left, South Vietnam was ruled by the autocratic Ngo Dinh Diem. President Ngo (family names come first in Vietnam), was a member of the Catholic minority (some 10% of the population), and set out to ensure that all positions of power were in Catholic hands. Angered by the persecution of Buddhists, Thích Quàng Đúc, the abbot of Thien Mu, drove to Saigon in this very Austin. On the 11th of June 1963, after notifying the foreign press that “something important” would happen, he drove to a major road intersection where he sat in the lotus position while another monk poured petrol over him. He then set himself alight. Few journalists turned up – the “Buddhist crisis” was no longer news - but two who did were David Halberstam of the New York Times and photographer Malcolm Browne. Browne’s picture of the event was World Press Photo of the Year 1963. I will not reproduce it here, but it can be seen by clicking this link. Halberstam wrote “…as he burned he never moved a muscle, never uttered a sound, his outward composure in sharp contrast to the wailing of the people around him…”

Thich Quang Duc's Austin Westminster

Though I cannot applaud hi0 saction, no one can doubt Thích Quàng Đúc’s bravery and commitment. His protest was also partially effective as, under pressure from his American supporters, President Ngo quickly announced a series of reforms. He stalled on their introduction but was killed in November 1963 in the military coup which overthrew his government.

Over fifty Buddhist monks have burned themselves to death this year in Tibet, protesting against the Chinese treatment of their country. When the act becomes a commonplace - and there is no top class press photographer in attendance - the process becomes sadly and very painfully self-defeating.

A Boat up the Perfume River

Leaving the pagoda in a thoughtful mood, we crossed the road to the riverbank and embarked on a boat for a half hour trip upstream. The Perfume River is wide, slow moving and only 30 km long, being formed by the confluence of two streams flowing out of the Day Truong Son mountains. Orchids are swept downstream in autumn, and the waters smell of their perfume. Romantics may believe that, but the name more probably derives from the river being used to transport sandalwood from the interior to the markets of Hue. Today most of the river boats carry sand and gravel, dredged up from the river bed, for use in building. There is, as far as I know, no move to rename it the Concrete River.

Carrying gravel down the Perfume River

After a pleasant cruise, though the weather was still misty and fairly cool, we moored at a landing stage apparently in the middle of nowhere. Following a path through the forest for a few hundred metres brought us onto a road where we found our driver waiting patiently to ferry us to the mausoleum of Tu Duc.

Our boat leaves us in what appears to be the middle of nowhere

The Tu Duc Mausoleum, near Hue

Tu Duc, the fourth of the Nguyen emperors, occupied the throne from 1847 to 1883. Although his was the dynasty’s longest reign, he was not a successful emperor and had the misfortune to rule at a time of irresistible pressure from the incoming French colonialists.

Like most of the Nguyen emperors, he built himself an impressive mausoleum between the river and the surrounding hills. Selecting an appropriate site was a task for the court astrologers, and once found it was adorned with artificial lakes, waterfalls and hills to create a garden setting. As well as being an eventual place of burial it served as rural retreat from the bustle of the imperial court.

The Vu Khiem Gate, Xung Khiem Pavilion and Luu Khiem Lake at Tu Duc's Mausoleum

The Vu Khiem Gate, Tu Duc's Mausoleum, Hue

Entering through the Vu Khiem gate gives an immediate view of the attractive Xung Khiem Pavilion beside the Luu Khiem Lake. Tu Duc preferred to sit here, drinking wine and writing poetry rather than wrestling with the affairs of state. The word ‘Khiem’ which appears in the name of the gate, lake, pavilion, temple and royal residence means ‘modest’; its continuous use sounds like trying too hard. He lived in his mausoleum for the last sixteen years of his reign, but despite his preference for gentle pursuits there is evidence that he had a mean and vindictive streak.

Xung Khiem Pavilion, Mausoleum of Tu Duc, Hue

Tu Duc’s greatest problem was that despite having 104 wives and a small village of concubines he had no issue. It would seem a teenage bout of mumps (or smallpox - sources differ) was the root cause rather than lack of attention to his horizontal duties.

The grave of Tu Duc, Hue

One of the most important functions of an emperor is to produce an heir and his failure made him increasingly embittered. Every mausoleum contains a stele on which the king’s biography is recorded. It is traditionally written by his eldest son, but poor Tu Duc had to write his own. Perhaps significantly, his stele bears the longest obituary of all the Nguyen monarchs.

Tu Duc's stele-house

Lunch at the Mandarin Café, Hue

We drove back to Hue for lunch at the Mandarin Café, ‘a leading light in Hue’s backpacker business’, according to the Rough Guide. Mr Cu, the proprietor, fancies himself as a photographer and his pictures cover the walls. While waiting for your meal you are invited to look through his catalogue and purchases can be made. There are some striking images, but he is an enthusiastic amateur (I should criticise!) rather than a professional photographer. His food, though, was excellent. We had banh khoai pancakes again – it is compulsory in Hue – pork and beansprouts, spring rolls, sweet and sour crispy pork, gently steamed squid with a memorable ginger dipping sauce, cabbage and morning glory.

The Mandarin Café, Hue

An Afternoon in Hue

Left to our own devices in the afternoon we walked back to the central part of the ‘European City’, passing Quoc Hoc High School on the way. Founded in 1896 to teach royal princes and future administrators how to be French, its most famous former students are Ho Chi Minh, who was expelled for political agitation, and Ngo Dinh Diem, the future president who so upset Thích Quàng Đúc.

Outside the school a young man on a scooter knocked a girl off her bicycle. There was a clatter and some constgrenation among the bystanders, ourselves included, but fortunately most of the damage was to the patricipants' dignity.

In the centre we watched a man using an electric sander to carve a Buddha from a tree stump. Despite his unwieldy instrument, the delicacy of the carving was remarkable.

Carving a Buddha with an elctric sander, Hue

The sun was now shining and the day had warmed up considerably, so it seemed reasonable to pause for a beer at the Octopussy Restaurant – not a good name, I thought, and almost certainly a copyright infringement.

A beer (and a coffee), Octopussy Restaurant, Hue

Then I went in search of a T-shirt, but the largest size I could find was XXXXL, which I could not quite get over my head. Clothing in Vietnam is cheap and travellers are often advised to take very little and buy as they go, though 'sufficiently large sizes of shoes, women’s swimwear and brassieres are unlikely to be available'. In my case this also applies, I discovered, to shirts and trousers, so I am glad we did not take that advice. My feet are a modest size 9½ (US 10, European 44) but my sandals certainly looked vast by local standards. Ironically, although they were bought in Stafford, they were made in Vietnam.

An Imperial Dinner at the Placid Garden Manor Restaurant, Hue

In the evening we were driven to another section of garden houses on the eastern edge of the citadel. Alighting in a narrow road lined with such houses we discovered that one is now a karaoke bar and we were treated to the sound of possibly the world’s worst karaoke singer – and yes, I know how stiff the competition is. Opposite is the Placid Garden Manor Restaurant (perhaps the name loses something in translation) which specialises in reproducing the cuisine of the imperial palace. Here we settled down for an evening of courtly elegance at one of the half dozen tables set out on the terrace of the old house. Fortunately, garden houses have long drives, so the cacophonous karaoke had faded mercifully into the distance.

The Placid Garden Manor Restaurant, Hue

The 8 course menu is worth recording

1) Dance of the Phoenix. The food element was paté, the French influence even affected the imperial court.

Dance of the Phoenix, Placid Garden Manor Restaurant, Hue

2);Pineapple Lantern. Assorted appetizers

3) Surprise soup of Hue. A glutinous chicken soup.

4) Spring roll in the form of a Peacock

Spring rolls in the form of a peacock
Placid Garden Manor Restaurant, Hue

5) Steamed Prawns.

Steamed Prawns
Placid Garden Manor Restaurant, Hue

6) Sweet and sour papaya in the form of a dragon

Sweet and Sour Papaya in the form of a Dragon
Placid Garden Manor Restaurant, Hue

7) Fried rice in the form of a turtle

Fried Rice in the form of a Turtle
Placid Garden Manor Restaurant, Hue

8) Fruits made from bean paste.

Fruits made from Bean Paste
Placid Garden Manor Restaurant, Hue

After many years as a French colony Vietnam, inevitably, produces some wine. The main vineyard area surrounds Dalat in the southern highlands and our bottle of Dalat red was pleasant if a little thin, the grapes being helped out with the addition of mulberries. I would not go out of my way to drink it again, but it provided a welcome change from beer.

It was a memorable evening, though the presentation of the dishes was perhaps more exciting than the food itself.

Vietnam North to South

Prelude: Raybans in Heathrow and Saigon

Part 1: Hanoi (1) Ethnic Minorities, The Old City and Water Puppets

Part 2: Hanoi (2) Bat Trang, Quan Ho Music and Fighting Cocks

Part 3: Ha Long Bay

Part 4: Lao Cai, Coc Ly Market and Sa Pa

Part 5:Trekking from Sa Pa (1), Sa Pa to Ta Van

Part 6: Trekking from Sa Pa (2) Ta Van to Ban Den

Part 7: Trekking from Sa Pa (3), Around Ban Den then back to Hanoi

Part 8: Hanoi (3), The Ho Chi Minh Mausoleum and the Temple of Literature

Part 9: Hue (1), The Citadel, The Battle of Hue 1968 and Some New Things to Eat

Part 10: Hue (2), A self-Immolating Monk, an Impotent Emperor and Imperial Dinner

Part 11: Da Nang

Part 12: Hoi An and My Son

Part 13:Ho Chi Minh City (Saigon)

Part 14: The Mekong Delta (1), Can Bei and a Cornucopia of Fruit

Part 15: The Mekong Delta (2), To Vinh Long and Can Tho

Part 16: The Mekong Delta (3): Cai Rang and My Tho

Part 17: The Cu Chi Tunnels and the Cao Dai Gret Temple

THE END