Doc Let Beach, where I joined the ranks of thousands of other tourists who upon seeing the view probably said to themselves, half-jokingly, “I could get used to this.”
The guide book said it all. “If you come here, be prepared to do nothing but lay around.” It sounded simple enough, so after returning home from Ha Long Bay, Derek and I hopped on a plane and made the 1.5 hour flight to Nha Trang, a large beach resort town on the southern coast of Vietnam. From there, we took a 50 kilometer taxi ride north to Doc Let. As we drove the cities and buildings started disappearing. Houses turned into shacks, paved roads into gravel. We started getting a little anxious. What had we done? Where were we going? And why were there so many godforsaken water buffalo in the street? Suddenly we turned the corner and up a long driveway. Palm trees and an ocean breeze greeted us, and we could hear waves breaking in the distance. We quickly made our way to the shore. The guidebook was right. Within seconds of looking out on the clear blue water of the South China Sea, our engines powered down and our brains kicked in to low gear. The beers were opened and the preparation was complete – commence lying around.
That’s the pathway from my bungalow to the beach. The walk was about 20 feet, and it was probably the most physical exertion I endured for four days. The bungalows were twenty bucks a night, and that included meals. Not bad, not bad at all.
The tiny little hideaway/resort is located directly next to a fishing village. A short stroll up the beach and you can see locals building wooden boats of various sizes strewn about in various stages of completion (or disintegration). At night the boats float just off shore in the sea. When the sun sets the boats reveal hundreds of tiny flashing lights of blinking on and off in green, blue and red. I was told it was to attract fish and shrimp, but to me, in the distance and the dark, it looked more like some sort of nautical disco party.
The second day I ventured into the village from the other direction via the dusty gravel road. The village was probably home to 100-200 people. The people in the background of this picture are giving a baby a haircut.
At first it was little difficult to get used to the idea of doing nothing. I mean nothing. My brain kept trying to think of things to keep me occupied. “Shouldn’t you refold your clothes to make sure you don’t get any wierd creases?” “Maybe you should move to that other hammock, it looks like it’s woven a little tighter. Might be better for your back.” It’s efforts were for naught. I was officially on vacation. My schedule went something like this: wake up, read, go to beach, nap, eat, repeat. The picture above is my attempt at getting an awesome jumping picture. I tried about 20 times, but on each attempt the timing was off. I guess that’s too be expected though. In a place like Doc Let, time seems to stand still.
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