Day 12 Hoi An - 18th September 2014 - Thursday

Hoi An - Day 12 - 18th September 2014 - Thursday

This is another beautiful day. Gerald and I are up with the alarm at 6 am and enjoying our jackfruit and melon and nuts and yogurt and sushi and miso and pho and tea and coffee (just light you understand) when Carol arrives, and plops down with a sigh 'Oh I need help!' she sighs. We are immediately concerned, perhaps they have been robbed, Steven has run off with a local? No, Steven has diarrhoea and has been up all night, and she is genuinely falling apart, and concerned she is coming down with it too, and much talk of what he ate could have caused this. Further proof, Ashley has had it too. What should she do? I find the chef and order some freshly grated ginger tea for Steven, and agree she and he she should not go on the bike ride. It is amazing to me that one small upset, undoubtedly uncomfortable and inconvenient, but a natural consequence of travel, should cause such a meltdown. Someone who appears so 'together' should unravel at such a thing. Did our African upbringing give us resilience and resource? Did we learn this in the Landmark Forum? Or were we never like that? We offer condolences, that is how tragic this feels, and leave for our bike ride.

Only four of us go now give. Stevens bowels - Janine and Darryl join us. What a wonderful morning we have! We are taken by bus to the riverside, which looks decidedly Italian or French Riviera, small restaurants with wrought iron furniture and lanterns and French street lamps, a riot of colourful boganvillia - these are guest houses, b and b's, but each year they flood, and people are accustomed to just moving their furnishings upstairs for a few days each year. Amazing. The boat takes us across the river to Cum Cim (pronounced come Kim) Island, a journey of perhaps fifteen minutes, where 300 families live, and very few cars or scooters. They are building a bridge across, but the ferry owners are irate about this, as they will lose their living, the ferry boats laden with scooters from one side to the other. Our bikes are offloaded and our bike tour guide, a delightful and informative young man, with excellent English, adjusts out seats and takes the lead. We spend a couple of hours driving along flat, serene country roads, amongst rice paddies and water buffaloes, banana trees and small shops where people are carving wood and are laying the tiniest finest pieces of shell into exquisite trinkets. We watch in fascination. We stop at a monastery, where a Buddhist monk, a woman, with the most peaceful and beautiful face smiles and bows and agrees to have her photo taken. Her head is shaven, so she is a long established monk. When they first join they shave their heads, but for one small piece in the front, which grows longer and longer and is coiled around their head - only after five years is that cut off, and that marks a fully fledged monk apparently. We see for the first time a statue of the Lady Buddha, rather like the Virgin Mary, from what I understand. The windows and the Buddha inside the very simple, humble building are decorated with swastikas, and I ask why this sign of evil is here in a place of such goodness. Our guide explains that Hitler 'stole' this sign, a sign he knew was familiar to millions having been the Buddhist sign of goodness for thousands of years, and to 'confuse' people. So this sign is actually a sign of peace and love, twisted by the madness and hatred of Hitler. Still, I do not think I could bear to wear this myself. How interesting is that? We also visit a boat building business on the water, where three men are busily engaged in making town boats, using the most rudimentary of materials and teak. The boats are things of great beauty, the larger one sells for $4000 - Gerald comments that the teak alone would cost twenty or more times that in Australia. They shape the curve of the boat with heat, they use the sap of the tree to glue it, and a small stone and a piece of string to measure and yet it's perfect.

Sweaty and nicely tired, the breeze of the boat ride back to the old city is welcomed, and back at the hotel, we are in the gorgeous pool in five minutes, oh this is heaven, and are able to rest and write in the cool,of the room for an hour before another absolutely wonderful Massage at 2pm, again with Thao and Huang. We steam once more before hand, and this massage is for deep muscle therapy, and they use hot stones wrapped in wash cloths, as well as the traditional oil massage, and her hands work such magic once more. Such a sweet faced and gentle girl, at the end of this massage, as she did yesterday, she braids the front of my hair, and loops the pony tail into a clever and elegant bun, all in two minutes.

Emerging takes us on a tour of the spa, some of which is. To yet open, it's on,y two weeks old, and it already looks amazing. Diane McCann and Robert could run a Tantra here, the staff are without doubt the most accommodating, smiling I have ever encountered, it is romantic, the treatments are included in the daily tariff, the hotel and pool and rooms are gorgeous, as is the restaurant, and the location just a couple of minutes taxi ride from Paris/Venice/Bali on the river, it's incredibly lovely and romantic.

We are going back tonight for our third massage, and our second today, at 9 pm. How is that for decadence? We relax in the room and I write, waiting for Vy (Ve) to come with my clothing, and an additional red t shirt for Gerald. She arrives, As do Emerline, Loan, and another staff me ever, for the grand trying on. The three colours are divine, the fabric and cut and style elegant - but the pants are a wee big snug. No problem, she can fix, I have my doubts as there is nothing in the seams. It's ok for Gerald to pay her although we do not have the finished garments, there would be 'big trouble' as she is the selected tailor for the spa. The black silk pants are well cut and made, a tiny bit short .... but I am happy, three pairs of Vietnamese linen pyjamas and a pair of silk pants for $110, and Gerald has three bamboo cotton t shirts for $22 each. She will deliver them back tonight, and she does. They are still a bit snug, as I said, there is no seam to let out.

I spend some time writing incredibly acknowledging comments about the spa and the hotel, in the My Chi Spa FB and The Alma Courtyard FB. We have yet to do Trip Advisor.

We are taken with the group to the Moon Lantern restaurant, we eat with Geoff and Betty, and the food is mediocre. I really would have preferred to walk with my beloved amongst the new city and find a place of our own. We leave early and take a taxi back to the hotel for our 9 pm massage with Thao and Huang, another round of steam, and this time, a delicious 'relaxing' massage. I fall sound asleep under her nurturing hands. We have several loving hugs and kisses when it is over. We give them each a measly American dollar. This little 24 top year old girl has sneaked unto my heart, I tell her I have no daughter just one gorgeous son, and she calls me "Mami" - can I be yours, she asks? Oh, I wish!!!! - and she cannot wait to show me something very exciting. After my glowing recommendation on both FB pages, just a few hours ago, someone has made an colourful A4 sheet of paper headed 'My Chi Spa Super Star - Thao!' with a man called Robert's acknowledgment 'best massage ever!', he works in the spa industry apparently, and mine 'best in my world travels' with my name, this is hanging in the staff room, and she is beside herself with happiness and hugging and kissing me like a happy daughter. We have photographs taken, exchange FB addresses, and I leave reluctantly. The manageress smile is growing a bit thin with all this joy I think, it's time to go, but Thao and I could sit here on these squashy couches and talk and hug all night long. Gerald is itching to leave, all this emotion and touchy feely stuff gets to him - and it is already 10.30 pm.

Bed at 11.30 pm.

Best Regards

Gerry Groom Executive Coach

P O Box 256 Berry, NSW, 2535 Australia Mob : 0408162408 Tel : 44487910 Email : groomgerald@gmail.com