Dalat is for Lovers, Part 2 (or "Don't even try to steer")

The market in Dalat sells some delicious things. Located in the centre of town, it is a frenzy of motorbikes and colourful produce. The hills surrounding the town are dotted with greenhouses which produce lovely flowers and veggies that I didn't expect to see in Vietnam: red roses and daisies, beetroot, kohlrabi, and artichokes. Dalat is famous for its artichoke tea - a very tasty and cleansing brew. Strawberries were in season and beautifully displayed in straw baskets: the vendors would carefully constructed pyramids of berries with the stems facing in. I bought a kilo for 25000 dong (less than $2 Canadian).

Dalat is also famous for its wine. My guidebook said not to get too fussed about varietals: there's red and there's white. The white was a bit oaky but the Superior Red was lovely. And for 60000 dong a bottle ($4), it sure was a bargain!

The day after our Intro to Motorcycling, we undertook a bigger ride. The town of Nam Ban is 30 km from Dalat, along a winding mountain road with amazing views of lush valleys below. I led the way until the road got so twisty that Chris had to speed ahead (I don't like to take the turns too fast). His advice about motorcycling is an excellent metaphor for life: "Don't even try to steer. Just lean into the turns." Driving down from the mountain into town, we hit a wall of hot air, like driving into an oven. From the bridge over a small river, we could see shirtless men wading waist deep, fishing. Roadside, women were selling the catch from big stainless steel bowls filled with water. I reckon you couldn't ask for a fresher fish.

Once in Nam Ban, we filled up the gas tanks and I got directions to our destination. I'd looked up "How do you get to..." in my phrasebook and the woman answered in Vietnamese, with accompanying hand motions. I had no idea was she actually said, but my interpretation was "Go over the bridge and turn left." Sure enough, that left turn led us up to the Linh An pagoda and the Elephant waterfalls. Lovely music drifted from the pagoda and we were definitely the only white people around. A giant fat Buddha statue laughed down at us, mirroring the smiling Vietnamese parking lot attendants who laughed with us and directed us where to park the bikes. You can't just leave your bike unattended round here - it might get nicked, as Chris said. So for a few thousand dong, we paid some guys to watch them for us.

Feeling parched from all the wandering on foot and moto, we stopped next at a stand next to the pagoda to squat on little stools and slurp delicious sugar cane juice, with a hint of lime. Just then, it started to pour with rain and we took shelter with everyone else under an awning. A little boy stared at us intently but most everyone else paid no attention. After the downpour, we visited the Cuang Huong Silk Factory, where we witnessed the silk-making process and I, ever the shopper, dropped a wad of dong to buy lovely scarfs, wrap shirts and kimonos. "You spent a MILLION dong!?" Chris and Luke were shocked but patient during my browsing.

A lot of travellers have told me that they don't like Vietnam as much as Cambodia or Laos because the people aren't as friendly. But I've found the Vietnamese to be very warm and obliging. It helps if you smile a lot and make an effort with the language. When faced with a language barrier, repeating yourself more loudly is hardly the way to make the other person understand! I've noticed a trend among other travellers - they never seem satisfied and there is always something wrong that ruins their day or trip, whether it be rain or a delay or a cultural misunderstanding. Personally, if I'm not having a good time, I think I'm more to blame than the locals or the weather or the country. It is all a matter of having a positive attitude.

On our last day in Dalat, Chris rode off at dawn with a Vietnamese guide, fulfilling his New Year's resolution to do a big moto trip through Vietnam. Luke and I wandered the town, stopping often for food (first and second breakfast, first and second lunch, etc). We ducked into a cafe to escape the rain and sat amongst Vietnamese men who were lazing the day away with coffee, cigarettes and card games. "Conversations" ensued and I learned how to say lungs and tobacco in Vietnamese. Later, more food! I'd been telling Luke about banh mi, the Vietnamese version of the submarine sandwich: spicy mayo, roast pork, pickled carrot and turnip, fresh cucumber and lots of cilantro. We stumbled upon a local bakery that made the most sublime banh mi. Having just eaten our fourth meal of the day, we decided to just share one, eating it standing in the street outside the bakery. And then another. Okay, and another. It was so good! With our bellies full, we toasted the full moon with a final glass of Dalat wine.

Dalat is for lovers and I'd like to bring my loved ones here someday: Darla and John, JA, Baba and Debbie, Laura and James, Matthieu and KK, and most especially, Rachel who loves to ride motorcycles (but preferably not into a wall).

Next stop, beach time in Nha Trang. Lots of love to everyone back home.