Still sharing common travel plans, Jochen and I boarded the 6pm bus from Hoi An to Nha Trang. The 6:30am arrival time was looking in doubt as two hours passed and we still hadn't left the town. All the passengers (95% of whom were travelers) were aboard and it seemed as if we were ready to leave. Then came the cargo run around town. We stopped at about four different locations picking up stuff (mostly boxes and big tour company sign boards) which was slotted in where there was room on the bus. Another good scam that seems to be going: fill the bus with paying tourists and then use the extra passenger space to transport goods. On the bright side, there wasn't any livestock.

I learned that there is one major problem with catching a bus in the early evening; the three beers I had with dinner were quickly looking for an escape route. It wasn't dire but certainly made the beginning of the journey quite uncomfortable. The appearance of each gas station brought new promise of relief, and then consistent disappointment as its lights faded away behind our passing bus. I soon learned that I was not suffering alone. Over the next hour a number of people stepped over the back-up driver sleeping in the aisle and pleaded their case to the driver. All were turned back to their seats without a clear answer of when we would stop.

Finally, at around 11:30pm (five and a half excrutiating hours after leaving Hoi An), we stopped. It quickly became apparent from all the waiting vendors and the little restaurant that this rest stop had paid some sort of commission to the bus company. I had suspected as much. I made my way straight for the water closets (as the toilets are called here). The line moved along quickly with all of those leaving the stalls in a much better mood than those still waiting to enter. Free of the pain in my bladder, I grabbed a snack and got back on the bus.

I managed to catch a few hours of sleep before being awoken by the quiet chatter of the other passengers who, like me, were wondering why we were stopped on the side of the road in the middle of nowhere. I went outside, stretched my legs, and saw the reason we were stopped. One of the four rear wheels had a puncture. Not a big surprise considering the condition of the roads. Soon about half of the passengers were off the bus stretching, smoking, and watching the driver hoist off the blown tire. Many were curious where the spare was kept on the bus. They soon had their answer: nowhere; there was no spare. This became clear as the driver pulled out the inner tube of the huge tire and, with a small flame and some spare rubber, started to patch the hole by hand. I waited outside with a few others to watch and discuss the half hour process of getting us road worthy.

By 4:00am we were rolling again and I went back to sleep. The next time I was awakened was a little more rudely. The new driver who had taken over was roaring through some small town with one foot planted on the accelerator and the other constantly hammering the horn to warn anything or anyone that might be foolish enough to get in his path. I guess this is how they make up lost time in Vietnam. Whatever the reason it made sleeping an impossibility and I stayed up reading until we arrived in Nha Trang at about 7:00am (only 30 minutes behind schedule).

At that time in the morning, after a restless trip, we were in no mood to be hoofing our bags around town looking for a hotel. We settled for the second one we visited and dropped off our bags. 'Settled' is a bit misleading considering Jochen and I split a beach side bungalow with cable TV and a shower for $5 US a night ($2.50 each).

We slept until noon, got up, had lunch, and went looking for motorbikes. In Hoi An you couldn't walk five feet from the entrance of the hotel without being offered a rental, but here in Nha Trang it was a different story. Several blocks down we found a place but the only bikes on offer seemed to be Honda P.O.S's (pieces of shit, that is). It's scary enough riding a motorbike in Vietnam under normal conditions let alone getting one with breaks that are totally shot. We finally tracked down some higher quality rides for $2 and set off to see what there was to see in Nha Trang. Fortunately, most of the things there are to see (besides the beach) are set on hilltops and are thus quite easy to find.

First we drove to a set of Cham ruins overlooking the city and the water. From here we got some pictures and spotted our next destination: a big, white, seated Buddha. It took some trial and error to find the road leading up to the Buddha but we eventually got there. The Lonely Planet says that you'll meet some interesting characters on the way up the hill. What they don't mention is that it's mostly young children and elderly people begging for money. It's always the same dilemma when you find yourself surrounded by outstretched palms: give to one and you have to give to all; or don't give to any and feel like a bit of an asshole. While I may be more well off, if I were to give money to every needy person who asked, I likely wouldn't have enough to get home myself. Thankfully, they were not too persistent and, after a minute or two, let us visit the seated Buddha (and its sleeping counterpart just down the hill) in peace. I made a donation at the nearby temple in hopes it would be spent to help the unfortunate people we had met.

Lacking foresight, Jochen and I drove down the hill and found ourselves in full on rush hour traffic. I learned to ride a bike in quiet Hoi An, and now I would be tested in crazy Nha Trang. The surroundings are almost like a video game. Everywhere you look, you can see every combination of people and vehicle imaginable: a family of five on a motorbike with the little ones wedged between their parents, a crew of construction workers packed into the back of a transport truck, old American army jeeps left over from the war, packs of school girls riding their bicycles, the list goes on and on. Despite all the chaos, there does seem to be some order. The basic rule seems to be this: avoid everything in front of you and let everything coming from behind avoid you. Sticking to this system we made it back to our bungalow safely and got ready to go out for some drinks.

The common consensus on the street was that the Sailing Club is a good spot. We walked there, got a couple of beers, and sat outside on the patio chatting with some fellow travelers. The venue was really nice. A spacious bar set right on the beach with a big patio and busy dancefloor. On one side of you the waves of the Pacific crash against the sand and the palm trees, and on the other side a mix of locals and foreigners shake their stuff to some slick techno beats. Some of these local girls were real lookers too. Except their was something just not quite right about the Vietnamese beauty sitting at the next table down. I was trying to figure it out when it struck me like an epiphany. Something about the bone structure of the face and the set of the shoulders told me that this girl was carrying one Y chromosome too many. Yes, it was a lady-boy. He-Shes are kind of like grey hairs: once you spot one, the next thing you know, you've found another ten. I looked around the joint and quickly realized that most of what I thought were local girls had, up until fairly recently, been local guys. And, a little more disturbing, the foreign guys they were chatting with didn't seem to notice. I guess after a few drinks you believe what you want to. Regardless, it was still a good place to hang out and we stuck around a few more hours before heading back to the bungalow (unaccompanied).

The next morning Jochen and I got up early as we had both booked the "Tour to Four Islands" that was advertised at most of the local cafes. We soon learned that the name of the tour was a bit misleading. It was, in fact, one of Nha Trang's infamous 'Booze Cruises'. Our visit to the first island consisted of some snorkeling and then drinking beers back in the boat . We got to see some decent corrals and marine life but the visibility was bad and confirmed my decision to hold off on anymore diving until I'm in Thailand.

Our next stop, the second island, was where the real debauchery started. First, the captain (who insisted on being called 'Strongman') sang a song from each of the countries represented on the boat. Those were England, Australia, Sweden, Norway, Germany, France, and Japan. He didn't know any Canadian songs so I was skipped. I don't think it mattered much because most of the other people couldn't seem to understand a word of the songs that were sung in their own native languages. The musical portion of the tour ended (thankfully) after about twenty minutes and then came the much touted "big surprise". The crew tossed out a life ring for each person aboard and then a crate full of cheap wine. Strongman, a cigarette in one hand and a beer in the other, joined us in the water and began dispensing the wine. After eating, you should wait half an hour before going in the water. Apparently, the same does not applying for drinking. Floating in a life ring with a glass of wine (which soon contained a fair amount of seawater), and chatting with the other booze cruisers, it was quite a scene. One of the Brits summed it up well, "So wrong, it's right! In't it?" We all agreed.

Next we arrived at the third island. This was actually the first (and only) island we would set foot on, rather than just get drunk next to. It cost 5000 dong just to get onto the overcrowded little stretch of beach. Once there, your options are: go parasailing, hire a jetski, swim, rent a beach chair for 5000 dong, or sit on the sand for free. Not having tried it before, I took one of the jetskis at 200,000 dong for 15 minutes. That's a little less than one US dollar per minute. I lied and said I was an experienced jet skier and they let me take it out alone rather than with a guide. It was the best 15 minutes of the trip. It was very simple to operate and after about two minutes I had the throttle fully open and was launching off of waves into the air. My only regret was that I didn't have enough time to take it out again.

Our final stop (the fourth island) was a bit of a let down. For 5ooo dong, you can be rowed about a little harbor in a traditional Vietnamese basket boat. Seeing twenty of these circular dinghies full of tourists, I realized it wasn't much of a unique experience, and decided to wait on the big boat. We were back at our hotel by 5:00pm and by 5:30pm I had booked my ticket out of town. I was planning to stay one extra day but now I've reconsidered. Where as Hoi An takes its toll on your wallet, Nha Trang threatens an all out assault on your liver. It's a real party town where the moto drivers offer you drugs and prostitutes after you turn down a ride around town. Not that I mind a good party but this place can be a bit much. My next destination, Mui Ne, is a little stretch of beach and sand dunes about halfway to Saigon. I'm planning to spend a few days there just soaking up the sun and surf before heading into the fray.