Trip to Đà Nẵng
In late the 20s, all you talk about is real estate.
Dear friends,
“Oh, so you’re luckier than me. Native Đà Nẵng person I am but I have never seen that beach strip.”
An old friend texted me when I reached out asking her about local delicacies in Vietnam’s famed “most livable city”.
The trip to Đà Nẵng was reasoned by another friend’s newly bought beachfront villa and an urge to see for myself the world’s emerging digital nomad hub.
I had never properly visited the city although it’s only 4 hours away from my hometown (and with the introduction of the new Cam Lộ – La Sơn Expressway, the traveling time is now reduced to 2.5 hours).
It had been 10 years since the last time I was in Đà Nẵng – its rural mountainous district to be exact, a complete opposite scenario to the flashy touristy downtown – for a 1-month volunteer trip, not to mention two-hour lay-overs in DAD International Airport last year to catch flights to Krung Thep and back.
My cousin somehow got us – me and her daughters – a cabin in a fully-booked SE19 train which runs through Lăng Cô Bay and Hải Vân Pass. And if you have ever seen the cover picture of Lonely Planet Guide to Vietnam 1st edition by Catherine Karnow, it was taken when the train descended the mountain, right on that breathtaking route.
My nieces treated me to a bowl of bún chả cá in a local institution, saying “it’s very affordable”.
How affordable? $1.5! – the same pricing as my hometown which has been long considered as one of the poorest localities in Việt Nam.
As soon as we left the city center, I recalled the friend’s exclamation when I told her the development’s name. Billboards covering upcoming high-end projects and luxurious resorts keep the beach strip connecting Đà Nẵng and Hội An away from public eyes.
On a sheet of tarpaulin along soon-to-be Oriental Mandarin Resorts, a tagline set in an elegant sans serif typeface reads “Quiet Luxury. Redefined”. The redefining part, I wildly guess, is to say it loud, proud and repeated.
I had a couple of meetings with people in tech and venture capital during the stay which all ended up at industrial-looking coffee shops in An Thượng Area. Coffee prices, to my surprise, were set at Saigon’s level – from $3.5 for a glass of espresso tonic with single, local origin beans.
Bắc Mỹ An market – only 10-minute riding from the “young, hip, cool” hub full of remote tech workers – meanwhile, blissfully offered best of the best avocado soft serve at $1 per serving – a total pricing swing.
Why do I talk too much about money?
Some friends and I recently found out that we had been thinking of moving to Đà Nẵng – a practical choice rather than emotional as we have lists and boxes to tick.
I can simply say I need a more affordable city with an international airport and breathable environment within driving distance from my parents' place.
To my friends, they envision a childhood for their babies with beaches, mountains and human beings who don’t come in and out of concrete boxes.
We were in Đà Nẵng during the firework competition weekend. An acquaintance asked my friend whether we had booked any places to view the show and later introduced us to a penthouse owned by her friend which faces the city’s mother river of Hàn and nests next to Hilton Hotel.
The penthouse, miles away from our imagination, was unrenovated and full of irrelevant people. The owner – a man with a funny face – showed us around.
“Want ice cream? Pick whatever you like,” he pointed at a freezer.
“Take water from there. See the fridge.”
“Have you five had dinner yet? We are catering today,” he concluded before switching to newcomers.
Those people seemed to be like us, knowing about this place through loose threads of connections. We needed a space to observe a marvelous night in Đà Nẵng and our needs were accommodated by a stranger, for free.
We didn’t say goodbye to the man. He was nowhere to be found when the show ended. Us observers stacked plastic chairs into piles in silence and left.
I wondered whether he would open the space for new year fireworks also.
Till next time,
T.
A cliché caption that says: breakfast with a view. Shin ramen for the breakfast in question.
This week’s top picks
Beautiful short doc of a coconut pancake seller
How it feels as an art critic. In the case of Jerry Saltz
https://www.culturedmag.com/article/2024/07/17/jerry-saltz-art-critic-anderson-ranch-interview
A song on repeat. Gia Lộc did audition for Rap Việt and I felt like a proud mom.