Melly Clikimaki

It's funny how you meet people and know, almost on the instant, that circumstance being kind, you'll meet up again and become great friends for a very long time.  Such a pair are Dave and Robyn who we met in Hoi An and left, with a slightly sloshed, "See you in Nha Trang".

After  an uneventful flight and trip into Nha Trang which, we have to say has really grown since we were last here we're shown to our room.  We've been upgraded to a top floor suite.  It is a great room.  Round bed, fantastic round lighting feature a coupl of sofas a huge curved glass wall, small balcony overlooking the ocean and big stone bath.  Better yet an email from Dave and Robyn suggesting we meet up for drinks and dinner Christmas eve.

Check in formalities done, Kim and I take a stroll along the beach front.  Biiiig rollers crashing onto the shore in lovely early evening sunshine we make our way along to where we remeber the Sailing Club and Louisiane brewery bars are as they were favourite haunts last time we visited.  All still here! and still serving great craft beers.  Such a pleasure sitting here soaking up the sun around the pool at Louisiane, with a great pint watching the green water rollers crashing onto the beach.  We grab some munch then back to the room  to plan for Christmas.

Christmas eve! first job, find a hairdresser. Reccomendations from the hotel get us a name, 25 minutes of negotiating Nha Trang back streets ends with us in, what looks, to my untutored eye, like any other bloody hairdresser, and a happy looking Kim signing up for a rag, tag, bobtail, head cook, steam wash, foamer and christ know what all. It leaves me with around 27 hours to do the christmas shopping.

To be truthful we have the usual "No presents" proviso and we'll eat out, but will want bubbly, some choccies, nuts and pringles to mark the day.  "Should be simple", I hear you say but only if you've never tried shopping in Vietnam.  If I wanted half a dozen live turtles or some contraband motor cycle fuel sold in lemonade bottles I'd be alright, but finding bubbly that's not actual gasoline is a bloody nightmare.

Christmas eve and we meet up with Dave, Robyn and their lovely daughter Tilly at the Louisiane brewery for food and drinks.  Nothing will do after but that we must go to Crazy Kims bar.  A tiny street bar that used to be a gathering place for all folk Aussie and Brit at special events.  It's very quiet (before we arrive)

It seems that the Russians and the Chinese, when they discovered Nha Trang, loved to come here for the atmosphere, created by the aussies and brits. Thing is the Russians and Chinese were such shits, the brits and aussies stopped coming, which meant all that was left was a bunch of miserable, fuckwit Russians looking at a bunch of phlegm filled nostril manipulating chinese = dead bar.

We order a thousand jack daniels, Tilly takes charge of the computer driving the music and...... We Wish It Would be Christmas Everyday.....until it is!

Chistmas is (to Quote Joni Mitchell) sparkling. Sun is reflecting off the wave tops as we enjoy Christmas coffee and chocky biccies in bed.  Then up to the roof top pool with our bottle of Champers and the Bose to piss everyone off with the Bob Dylan Christmas album.  Only us and one othetr couple so we have a swim and dry off glugging our way through the bottle.  Down to Happy Breach beach restaurant for a couple of cold beers then to meet our new found Aussie pals ion the 28th floor roof top bar at the Sheraton.  Happy hour drinks looking over the sea front from up here is really special.

In the evening after some whatsapp calls home we go to the sailing club for a protien feat of a steak platter, beers and lovely bottle of wine.  A great, great Christmas! We truly hope that wherever you spent yours was as full of friendship and love as ours....god bless us, every one. (sniff)  

Boxing day in vietnam, where can you find ham and mashed potatos? You can't. But Dave has a reccomend for a Russo-Italian (I know!) place.  I have one of the best pizzas (and it must be said worst bottles of wine) of my life after a bar crawl and visit to Dave and Robyns hotel bar for cocktails.

As we part we're planning a visit to a local "mud spa" (fuck knows!.... honestly I have no freaking idea) That night, 26th the monsoon arrives and I'm sitting here in our roof top pool and bar area on the 29th and torrential rain has not stopped for more than 20 minutes.

On Boxing day we managed to place calls to our mates Derek and Terry, Steve and Pod, Bob and Sharon, tried Dave and Jo and Pam but couldn't get responses.  Gutted at the ones we missed so enjoyed chatting to the guys we reached, we missed home sooooo much after talking to you all!

Today Robyn, Dave and Tilly set off by car to the Dalat region, mountainous, jungle clad, it's still pissing down stair rods, we hope the trip goes ok and plan to meet them in Saigon on a week or so.  There are a couple of islands a mile off shore and from our 21st floor vantage point as I write, they are completely invisible in the rainy murk, the water in the pool is being whipped about and the wind feels strong enough to take you over the edge to the busy streets below................. can we make it to a bar????

It really is a pleasure not having to be packing and moving packing and moving. The weather does its' bit in that we have torrential rain almost 24 hours a day from boxing day through to today (2nd January) which forces us to pretty much be still and catch our breath.

In the odd rain break we make our way along Nha Trang beach for the walk.  At the centre of the beach the locals are erecting a huge screen and stage.  Work goes on through torrential rain and howling gale force winds, how no one is killed is beyond me. The rollers hitting the beach are now huge! Previously the sea has been a lovely emerald colour as the sun lights the waves, it's now a roiling turgid brown as the sea floor is whipped up.  As they hit the beach, the waves make a roar that we can hear half a busy, traffic filled mile back and 20 floors up from the seafront.

New years eve and the hotel is throwing an "Soire" we're invited to a finger buffet with drinks in reception.  When we get there it's largely populated with Chinese, all of whom seem to want the "Happy New Year photo" with the western devils.  We pose with them for an hour or so liberally lubricated with Dalat red wine and "entertained" by a loop of Abba singing "Happy New Ear" over and over and over again.

We get chatting to a Swedish couple John (I can never remember his name) and whatsher face (Mary) and set out toward the Sailing Club where we intend to spend midnight should we be spared.  On the way we stop at a Vietnamese restaurant where I get a Claypot seafood stew which is probably the best thing I've eaten in weeks.

At the sailing club they want 300,000 dong entrance fee (10 quid) we're telling them in our expert vietnamese to politely fuck right off  and Kim gives it the "don't you know we're British" and exasperated, they simply wave us in.  The Sailing club has built a stage on the beach but the rain is so heavy there's no way they can use it.  They do an amazing job of moving everything inside so we can enjoy band, cabaret, fire dancers etc.  Somewhat predictably as some prick DJ or "MC" as they call them nowadays starts screaming obscenities over other peoples music, the crowd moves in the generl direction of away, and despite the rain we all stand outside rather than listen to the shit.

At midnite the gale and rain refuses to let up and somehow the beach firework display goes off, bang on time, it's a really good display in any event, in this weather it's bloody miraculous!  We make our way back to the hotel, drenched to the skin through sokme of the busiest streets I've ever seen.  The roads and pavements, both sides are literally crammed, clogged with mopeds.  We virtually clinmb over them to get back, greeting every rider as we push them back a little or over a little to squeeze past with a cheery "Happy New Year"  they all seem pretty pleased with this.  By the time we get to our room we are as wet as if we'd jumped into the ocean.  

We run our beautiful stone bath and sit and soak with a bottle of ghastly sparkling Dalat wine and count our 2018 blessings and wish ourselves luck, love and fortune for 2019. We send our facebook greetings through till about 3am. 

Maybe it was the wine but we feel.................fine! really good in fact.  It's pissing down, just for a change, so we grabcab to the Louisiane brewery for a couple of fine craft ales and a sandwich, then the sailing club for a cocktail to see in the new year watching the amazing seas crash in.  Back at the room and a whatsapp with friends Bob and Sharon, then a bath and bubbly to the Phil Spector Christmas album, another year over, another begun, let's hope it's a good one!

All the very best!!