Friday, 6 April 2012

Ho Chi Minh City (Saigon): Vietnam North to South Part 13

The Chinese Market, The City Museum and the End of the American War

05-Apr-2012

Arriving from Da Nang - Sex Tourism & Eel Curry


Vietnam
We arrived back in Ho Chi Minh City - still called ‘Saigon’ by its older residents – a fortnight after we had dropped by on our way north. We were again met by Trang and checked in to the same hotel in the De Tham area, just south of the city centre.

As in Hanoi, we had driven from the airport among a darting shoal of motorbikes. Unlike Hanoi, though, the sky was clear and the air was hot. Hanoi has cool winters – and springs we discovered – and hot wet summers. Ho Chi Minh’s more southerly latitude means it is always pleasantly warm (or downright hot), although the summers are no drier. Ho Chi Minh is also a much more lively and cosmopolitan city; Trang described it as being New York to Hanoi’s Washington. We visited New York in February 2002; it was cold and expensive, two things Ho Chi Minh is not, but that does not entirely invalidate Trang’s comparison.

Ho Chi Minh City traffic

Mid-afternoon found us at the pavement café where two weeks before I had bought my 'genuine' ray-bans. As in our previous visit, several tables were occupied by a group of middle aged Western men who, in our jet-lagged state, we had thought were creepy. Now we realised they were very creepy. Some had been there a while, judging by the row of empties, and others came and went, two or three with a local girl in tow, one with a young Vietnamese man. This, we realised was sex tourism and we were sitting right in the middle of it. The café had ‘normal’ clients as well, both Vietnamese and tourists, but we found it an increasingly uncomfortable place to be, so we drank up and left.

A Fine Eel Curry

Later, we dined in a small restaurant a few doors down from our hotel. Reading through the immensely long bilingual menu I lighted upon ‘eel with coconut’. I had no idea what to expect, but this is what I received….

Eel curry, Ho Chi Minh City

My friend Brian has often eulogised the eel curries he enjoyed in Vietnamese restaurants when he lived in Hong Kong, and bemoaned his inability to find such curries in Vietnam itself. I had, it seemed stumbled across one by accident – and it was magnificent; any dish based on eel and flavoured with coconut, ginger, lemon grass and turmeric makes me a happy bunny. Eating in China I have often been frustrated by the waste of so much excellent sauce; you cannot pick it up with chopsticks, their ceramic spoons are useless and it is bad manners to pour the sauce directly from the serving dish onto your rice (though I have done it). This eel curry came not only with rice but with something unknown in China, a fluffy, absorbent bun. Problem solved.

06-Apr-2012

The Cho Lon (Big Market) Dsitrict

In the morning we drove north to the Cho Lon (literally ‘Big Market’) district. Most Southeast Asian cities have an area where the Chinese community gathers, and it always becomes a commercial and trading centre. Under the French Cho Lon was ruled by criminal gangs. The Americans also trod warily here and the Viet Cong found sanctuary in the narrow streets and alleys. In May 1968 five western correspondents were ambushed while driving though Cho Lon. Only one survived. Today ‘Big Market’ is much safer and outwardly benign. For all I know there may still a criminal underworld, but if so, they were not interested in us.

Binh Tay Market, Cho Lon, Ho Chi Minh City

Binh Tay is the oldest and largest of the district’s markets. They have more dried prawns - all classified by size and colour – than I ever imagined existed….

Dried Prawns, Binh Tay Market, Cho Lon, Ho Chi Minh City

…and dried squid…..

Dried squid, Binh Tay Market, Cho Lon,Ho Chi Minh City

…and plenty of rice. We bought some ‘sticky’ rice, it is about to go in the bag in the photograph. One day we will work out exactly what to do with it. You can also buy shoes and cooking pots and pretty well anything else you like, but it was the food that interested us most and there were enough strange and wonderful things to keep us occupied for a while.

Buying sticky rice, Binh Tay Market, Cho Lon, Ho Chi Minh City

Ho Chi Minh City History Museum

We drove south and around the Botanical Gardens to the History Museum, which has an extensive collection of artefacts from the Oc Eo culture. Archaeological investigations started in Oc Eo, a small coastal commune near the Cambodian border, in 1942 and ‘Oc Eo culture’ refers to the civilisation that produced the artefacts discovered there and subsequently at other sites in the Mekong Delta. Early history in this region is still not well understood and Oc Eo may, or may not, have been part of the Funan Empire which thrived in Cambodia from the 1st to the 7th century AD. Like the Champa , the Oc Eo culture was Hindu, but what we saw suggested less of an Indian influence.

Oc Eo artefacts, Ho Chi Minh City History Museum

The museum takes a more cursory look at later history, the most impressive exhibit being the French cannons by the entrance.

French Canons, Ho Chi Minh History Museum

Jade Emperor Pagoda

A short hop back towards Cho Lon took us to the Jade Emperor Pagoda, a Taoist Temple built by the Cantonese community in 1909 and generally considered, despite its modest entrance, to be Ho Chi Minh’s most exuberant temple.

The Jade Emperor Pagoda, Ho Chi Minh City

Once past the pond full of terrapins and inside the main hall we came face to face with the magnificently moustached Jade Emperor sitting behind a cloud of incense smoke and a screen of sunbeams artfully angled across the front of the altar.

The Jade Emperor

The Jade Emperor holds the keys to heaven and he has two supporters, one with a lamp to light the path of the virtuous, the other with an axe to prod sinners into hell. A series of carved wooden panels describe the judgement that will befall us all, we particularly liked the one in which the irredeemable are cast into hell.

Sending sinners to Hell,Jade Emperor Pagoda, Ho Chi Minh City

Left of the main hall is a statue of Kim Hua, to whom prayers concerned with fertility should be addressed. ‘It really works,’ Trang told us with a smile. After several miscarriages his wife had come here to pray to Kim Hua and they have since been blessed with two daughters.

Notre Dame Basilica and the Central Post Office

Saigon Notre Dame Basilica is in the city centre. Originally called ‘Saigon Chief Cathedral’, it was consecrated in 1880, though the bell towers were not added for another fifteen years. Built entirely of materials imported from France it seems rather plain for the country’s premier Catholic church. The Italian marble Statue of the Virgin Mary was installed in 1959 after which it became Notre Dame Cathedral. It was ‘promoted’ to basilica in 1962. The statue is reputed to shed tears at times of stress, and there was a reputed outbreak of statuesque weeping in 2005. The Catholic hierarchy investigated and came to the remarkably rational decision that the statue was dry eyed. That did not stop huge crowds thronging the square.

Saigon Notre Dame Basilica

Across the road from the cathedral is this rather splendid building. Designed by Gustave Eiffel and completed in 1891 it looks like a railway station from the outside….

Central Post Office, Ho Chi Minh City

… and also from the inside. It is actually the central post office.

Inside Ho Chi Minh City Central Post Office

To Ngon for Lunch

To find lunch Trang led us on a fifteen minute march across the city centre. He was clearly intent on going somewhere, but had not told us where. We passed a few likely looking restaurants and several outlets of well-known fast food chains; every time we approached one we held our breath in the fear that he might think that was what we wanted.

We were underrating Trang. Ngon is a Saigon institution. It is a huge restaurant housed in a colonial mansion with tables in the hall, the ground floor rooms, the atrium and the courtyard and they were all packed. Office workers, students, suburban ladies on shopping expeditions, everybody, it seemed, headed for Ngon at lunch time.

Trang had, we discovered, phoned ahead and made a booking and a waiter led us confidently through the throng to what seemed to be the only spare seats in the building. Ngon specialises in local dishes and, as we looked through another vast menu, Trang ordered, using some of our suggestions and some ideas of his own. The three of us shared tapioca noodles filled with prawns, herbs and rice, fried spring roles with mint and noodles, chicken curry and pork with something resembling paté. And then there was desert, banana fritters for Lynne and sweet glutinous rice balls swimming in a ginger and coconut milk sauce for me. I do not usually get excited about sweets, but they can occasionally be sublime, and this was such an occasion. I have difficulty grasping the idea that, for the locals, such delights are ordinary everyday food.

As we ate we questioned Trang about his early life. He had, he said, been plucked from school to join the army in 1982 and after training in mine disposal had been sent to Cambodia. After some years of border skirmishing the Vietnamese had launched a full scale invasion of Cambodia on Christmas Day 1978 to put anend to the murderous Khmer Rouge regime. By the 8th of January the Khmer Rouge had been defeated and a more sympathetic government installed in Phnom Penh. However, guerrilla resistance continued and Vietnamese forces did not finally leave until 1989. Trang was clearly unwilling to go into details about his time in Cambodia and we felt it was unreasonable to press him.

The Reunification Palace and the end of the American War

According to one view, the city centre is marked by the Notre Dame Basilica, while another claims it is Ben Thanh Market at the end of the park by our hotel. The Reunification Palace is a short step from Ngon and half way between the two, so I might modestly suggest a compromise.

In 1871 the French built a colonial mansion to house the governor-general of Cochinchina. After independence it became the presidential palace of Ngo Dinh Diem, but was so badly damaged in an assassination attempt in 1962 that it was subsequently demolished. The Independence Palace that replaced it is a characterless, even ugly building, but one that had a part to play in 20th century history.

The Reunification Palace, Ho Chi Minh City

The war ended on the 19th of April 1975 when this tank crashed through the gates….

The tank that ended the war

....and the north Vietnamese took the building unopposed and raised their flag. They renamed it The Reunification Hall, but the ‘Hall’ has become a ‘Palace’ again, largely because it sounds better to tourists.

Below is one of the best known photographs of the fall of Saigon. It was taken by Dutch photographer Hubert van Es (and borrowed by me from Wikipedia).

Fighting to leave Saigon, Hubert van Es

Taken the day before the tank crashed through the gates, the helicopter is often wrongly described as taking off from the roof of the American Embassy. The helipad was actually on the top of the CIA offices and unlike the embassy, which has been demolished, it is still there – though the building is no longer used by the CIA. It can be seen in this photograph taken from outside the cathedral; overlooked by newer, higher buildings it now looks remarkably small and insignificant.

The helipad on the former CIA building

The War Remnants Museum

The War Remnants Museum is a short walk from The Reunification Palace. As we passed a plane the Americans left behind and approached the entrance, Trang asked if we would mind if he did not come in with us. He had, he said, seen enough of the horrors of war in Cambodia.

American leftovers, War Remnant Museum, Ho Chi Minh City

Leaving him sitting on the concrete steps we made our way into the three storey, glass box of a museum. It is, mainly, a photographic exhibition, and it is not a great advertisement for the human race. It documents with an unflinching eye the very worst that human beings can do to each other. Among other things, humans can blow other humans into small but gruesomely recognisable fragments, gun down their children, shower them with napalm, tie them up and ‘interrogate’ them or burn, down their houses... the possibilities are limitless.

Lynne questioned the ethics of the photographers – how can they just take photographs and not try to intervene? It is a fair question and one every photographer must have had to deal with. In defence of the photographers I feel there is little one person armed only with a camera can do to influence events as they unfold; their function is to shine a light into the dark places where evil hides. It is a chilling thought that people behave better when the eyes of the world are upon them. What we do not see in photographs is worse than what we do see.

The great villains of the piece are, of course, the Americans. You need occasionally to remind yourself that not all Americans committed atrocities, and – though the Vietnamese authorities would not admit it – not all atrocities were carried out by Americans. The museum only exists because of one of America’s great virtues: it is a transparent society and for every American wrongdoer there are several more whose morality demands they expose that wrongdoing. Having applied that necessary corrective, it remains true that during those years – and despite the peace movement, which is also fully documented - it was America’s dark side that won out.

Some of the most harrowing photographs are of deformed children born after their parents were exposed to Agent Orange, the defoliant that was sprayed over vast tracts of countryside in an attempt to deny cover to the Viet Cong. They are, I suppose, collateral damage – a chilling phrase popularised in this war – as are the similar children born to the American servicemen who did the spraying. The museum notes this fact with sorrow and, here at least, strikes a reconciliatory note.

We left the museum sadder but, I hope, a little wiser. We could quite understand why Trang stayed outside, I would not want to go there again, but I am glad I went once.

Good Friday at St Philip's Church

We returned to our hotel to freshen up. Across the road from the hotel was a strip of parkland 100m wide and several times longer. Directly opposite were badminton courts, which seemed to be in constant use, and a square for public exercises, the exerciser's music quite loud enough to reach our windows at sixth floor level.

The park at dusk, Ho Chi Minh City

After a light(ish) dinner in a nearby café, we strolled across the park, attracted by the garish neon outside St Philip’s Church. It was Good Friday and we found several dozen people, the overspill from the evening mass, standing or sitting outside. We lingered to listen to the service.

Good Friday Mass, St Philip's, Ho Chi Minh City

Just over the road a hat sale was generating more excitement than seemed reasonable. Three days later we passed by again and observed the same excitement. We have no idea what was going on.

Hat sale, Ho Chi Minh City

The next day we set off with Trang for the Mekong Delta.


Wednesday, 4 April 2012

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.

Tuesday, 3 April 2012

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

Part 3: Ha Long Bay
Part 11: Da Nang

THE END