Despite the journey taking only four hours, our coach was a sleeper, which has since persuaded me that all coaches should have beds instead of seats. Although I did hear grumblings from folk taller than my 5,2 self.
White walls, a blue pool and sun-worshiping bodies decorating said pool introduced us to our hostel in Mui Ne. Intimidated by the pool scene, we promptly set out for the beach and spent an hour trying to find it until someone finally told us that the beach was presently non-existent due to the high tides.
We settled for braving the hostel pool, yet couldn’t resist for much longer the thought of fresh seafood – so many restaurant fronts were adorned with tanks of live fish, eel, even frogs and lizards.
The following day we book a tour of the fairy stream (a refreshing dribble of water through sand), a fishing village (with boats resembling bathtubs) and sand dunes (cue extreme exfoliation). The tour group was a lot of fun, especially when we were all packed into a tiny jeep – made a few locals laugh when we stopped for petrol, before they whipped out a bag of live lizards to show us.
When we returned, we were so hungry we stumbled next door to a Latino restaurant and shamelessly ordered fajitas (so tasty!). They even gave us a Bloody Mary shot each for dessert.
The night ended with beers, talking to more travellers who persuaded us to visit the town Dalat next.