In The Seaside Town That They Forgot to Bomb

February 24, 2009
Nha Trang

I was sitting at the rooftop bar/restaurant of my excellent guest house in Nha Trang, talking to a group of 20-something dudes from British Columbia. They asked me what beach I'd been to that day, and I replied, “the one up the road, you know, Nha Trang beach as in, the town we're visiting?” One of them said, “oh, you mean the dirty beach?” I hated to admit it, but he was right. The beach was filled with litter.

Located in the south central coastal region of Vietnam, Nha Trang is the country's most popular beach resort. It is a fairly sizable city, with a booming tourism industry. It's touted as the place to relax on the beach and frolic in the South China Sea. Watersports abound: jet skis, parasailing, wakeboarding and kitesurfing outfitters all line the beach. Scuba dive centers and snorkel tours are never far from where you're sunbathing, sleeping, eating or walking. Mega hotels like Sheraton and Marriott are here, and the town is littered with local hotels, b&b's, resorts and guest houses. In all, it's a nice vacation town, catering to Vietnamese as well as foreigners. The beach itself has a panoramic view with mountains behind and islands off the shore, reminding me of Santa Barbara minus the oil rigs and Orient Bay minus the naked people.

I had gotten into town by way of DaLat, a less than charming mountain retreat to the southwest. While DaLat did nothing but make make me want to leave it, the journey to Nha Trang was worth the side trip. For five hours, we wound through some of the most scenic countryside I've ever seen, with each pass more beautiful than the next. We wound down from high mountains into hilly farmland peppered with the different green hues of spinach, lettuce, herbs, artichokes, even grape vines, all growing harmoniously with palm, banana and rubber trees. Occasionally we'd come across terraced rice paddies. The landscape was dotted with extremely rural communities living in simple wood houses, sometimes surrounding a village well. Power lines run through the hills, running water does not. It was all strangely familiar, this scenery. I'd seen it perfectly replicated a hundred times in films and photographs, except for one striking difference: in 2010, the only fires burning are for cooking or trash. There are no bomber planes, guns or explosions. It was serene and peaceful, and would be hard to imagine the streams around here running red if I had not seen it in so many movies. What was not hard to imagine, after seeing the simple housing structures and way of life, was how an entire village could be razed in seconds. It was an odd feeling, cruising through a countryside where so many lives were lost in the not so recent past. (But then again, I've never thought about the Revolution while tubing down the Delaware with a cold beer in my hand, so go figure.)

As Nha Trang was my main destination in Vietnam, the place I had planned on spending the most time to relax and sit in the sun while New York was being pounded by a relentless winter, I was excited to arrive here. The hotel I'd carefully chosen based on reviews did not disappoint. It's really amazing what 25 bucks can get you here. My room was spotless and comfortable, even had a rattan couch and two plants. While the few blocks lining the beach are relatively chill (save for the constant hum of motorbikes and touts peddlling their wares, “Layyyyydeeeeeeee you buy somesiiiiing”) the town is actually a city, and fairly large. The main airport is a former US Air Force base. Aside from that, I could detect no other war leftovers. Not a single monument, not a strip of barren land, no remnants of a concrete bridge or bombed out buildings. Perhaps most notable was the absence of Vets. They were a dime a dozen in HCMC, and usually came in two types: the ones who stayed for the girls or the ones who stayed for the drugs. Most of the guys that I came across were visually troubled and I kept my distance. I expected to run into a major veteran population here, but strangely, saw none. Either they don't exist, or they were far from the beach. If this town saw any major battles during the war, there is zero evidence of it today.

From afar, you can see the green-blue waters dotted with islands and fishing boats, gleaming like a crayola color waiting to be named. Upon closer inspection, I was disappointed to discover straws, plastic bags, banana peels, confetti, cigarette butts, all you can drink party boat flyers and other such debris on the beach. It reminded me of Point Pleasant at 5 PM on any given Sunday in July. It was pretty scenery, but as a beach destination, a bit underwhelming. I had read about a pristine strip of sand and was not exactly finding it. I rented a chair none the less and tried to focus on the view. Not long after that, I was taken aback when a local took a piss, right next to me, into the sand. I wasn't sure if he was trying to offend, or if that's just how it was done in Nha Trang. I had been trying to be as least touristy as possible (buying fruit from the locals, not eating hamburgers, not getting shitfaced drunk, not complaining too much, etc.) but this was where I drew the line. It was pretty gross.

Perhaps I'm being too harsh. Nha Trang is a fine town and I had a good time there. It's just that it could have been a beach town anywhere, and was not quite as stunning as I'd hoped. It was not unbearable in its filth; just a bit unsightly. I learned that beach clean up is every few days so my first impressions were based on 3 days worth of litter. I still went to the beach every day and enjoyed each one. I had some good meals and met some nice people. Anyway you look at it, still beats working!