Dalat

Amanda here. Often as we've traveled through Vietnam, I find myself searching for a western comparison to explain what I'm seeing to someone back home, or to myself. "Dalat, it's kind of like Aspen...Like Aspen loses skiing and meets rural Georgia...one hundred years ago...red dirt, small family farms." In other words, it doesn't work, Dalat is Dalat. Perched up in the central highlands, it is green and smells good, big pine trees, flowers everywhere. It is a refuge and popular vacation spot for residents of HCMC.

The name of this flower means "Plumes from the Sun" (Or possibly sky or heaven).

We arrived on Sunday. On the recommendation of a couple from HCMC who we met in Hanoi, we decided to stay at a quiet spot on the edge of town. Madame Nguyen runs the place and speaks beautiful French. I last regularly spoke French in 1998, and I'd like to take this opportunity to thank my high school French teacher (M. TenEyck was a legend, she threw tennis balls) for giving me enough to communicate "The police need our passports?", "Where can we rent a moterbike?" and "Yes, we like strawberry jam." The hotel had never hosted Americans before and I hope we represented our people well, but I'm sure it was one faux-pas after another. Madame Nguyen was kind, elegant, and polite. I'm not even all that well-mannered by American standards (Matt interjects "You're polite for a New Yorker.") We were happy to get to know some of the other guests at the hotel, a group of women who work together at a PR firm at HCMC. They shared their bbq and tea with us and helped explain some of the mysteries of Vietnam.

We rented a motorbike and headed out to see the sights on Monday. There are several waterfalls you can hike to--some with other attractions built in to enhance the natural beauty, mini-golf course style. I'm not sure what was going on with this horse at Cam Ly falls, but he was a sad camper. There is also a good big mountain to hike up--Lang Bian. The view from halfway up the mountain showed the amazing terracing on the steep slopes, narrow fields of cabbages and strawberries. Cows, chickens, and wild horses have free reign.

Matt did a great job navigating on the motorbike. I was basically useless, but held on and tried to look for road signs. We left the next morning by bus--the ride down from the mountains was beautiful and comfortable. At every stop, the temperature rose and Matt and I wondered what to expect of HCMC. We guessed it would be overwhelming and challenging, and as usual, our imagination of a place failed to capture it at all.

Matt looking tough on the red and orange bike, helmet not quite right for a huge American noggin.