Nha Trang

He then mentioned how his family had seen a girl defecating near the beach after dark…
Nha Trang, beach side city where American soldiers used to holiday. With that knowledge I expected it to be a bit more bumpin. Perhaps there’s a peak season that we weren’t a privy to, but it seemed to me that there was less than a full wind in the sail. The beaches were big and clean enough though, and there was ample space to sink into a beach chair. We had great weather and I was able to gain quite a bit of color under the hot sun.
 
Upon arrival we headed to the bustling Backpacker House but it was full, so we checked in to a hotel across the street. Props to the Red Apple Restaurant. I enjoyed both my breakfast and dinner there. Lanterns also served a good meal. And as long as on the topic, I would not recommend ordering a Bolognese from the Italian restaurant just down the street. It was ironically quite spartan. 
 
The only really remarkable thing we did in Nha Trang was book (what we thought would be) a booze cruise. I made special effort to book it through the Backpacker House’s tour agency so that we would be in the company of other young people. Not going to lie, things started out a bit rough. GTO and I were the only ones to crack a beer during the first four hours. The tourist wharf was absolute bananas and we cruised out to the first island only to wait at a dock while some of the tourists visited an aquarium (which I heard was nothing more than a glorified pet store). G, GTO and I took this opportunity to lay out on the top deck. Some British girls had followed us upstairs and the fat, bitchy one had the audacity to order GTO back to the main deck to retrieve life jackets to lie on. Wow Princess. Greg took notice and cooly asked her, “What, are you going to tip him for that?” The next island was supposed to be a snorkeling stop but boat traffic and leaky masks hardly compelled us to indulge. Beer me!  After lunch things began to pick up. The boat crew doubled as a band and provided multicultural entertainment in the form of passenger national anthems. Following this they invited us to take a flotation device and hook into the floating bar. An older Vietnamese man had a bucket of shitty vodka and Fanta, and handed out small cups of the brew to our thirsty school of fish. During this GTO had managed to attract the attention of an older Dutch gentleman who found him to be quite funny. We ended up sitting with his family at the next island where they enlightened us about the locals. Zachary asked me what I thought of Vietnamese people. Caught a little off guard I gave an answer along the lines of I hadn’t quite gotten an overall impression (which was a lie because I had concluded that they were [expletive]ing loud). He then mentioned how his family had seen a girl defecating near the beach after dark (he had photo evidence) and that they had also seen a local sitting near some European girls, masturbating under a towel. Asian public masturbation story #2. Awesome.
 
I would be remiss if I did not mention the state of Greg’s leg: it had started to totally fester. He had purchased some Amoxacylan to try and fight the infection with antibiotics but most worrying was the smaller wound. It had really began to puss and his entire shin and ankle was beginning to swell. The larger infected, gaping wound was also doing no better. The aforementioned Dutch family took interest, particularly because he wasn’t participating in any water sports and had his leg wrapped. The mother was a nurse and son was a med student, and they were kind enough to invite us back to their hotel to retrieve a medicated cream (and swim in their rooftop pool). Awesome right?! We ended up having dinner with the family (at an amazing restaurant) and then aperitifs at Why Not Bar? Haven’t had dinner with a family in a while!
 
At this point in the trip I still had ambitions to reach Sapa so we moved along quickly to Hoi An.

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