Like a local: Visiting Nha Trang

Sunny seaside fun and a much needed winter break.

Tet decorations greet us in Alana Hotel

A busy city life can be draining no matter in which corner of the world you may be. In Vietnam, a lifestyle in the city can take a toll on your physical and mental health pretty quickly, and often the best way to shake the dust and noise of the city's chaos from your boots is to jump on a plane and head south. Having just completed our New Year celebrations and feeling the cold of Hanoi's winter, we jumped at the chance to explore Nha Trang.
This February, my partner and I were lucky enough join his sister and her boys in this idyllic tourist beach town in the south of Vietnam, just a two hour flight from Hanoi and a popular holiday destination for Vietnamese locals. Casting my inner backpacker (who am I kidding?) aside, I set out to observe how families in Vietnam travel on their annual new year break. 

Check in at Alana. Complimentary arrival drinks. Smiles optional.

We hopped on a Vietjet domestic flight and grabbed a taxi to our first hotel, feeling calmed and energised by the sea breeze and the greenery passing by on the 40 minute journey to the town centre. Expect to pay between 250,000 ($10USD) and 400,000vnd ($17USD) to get to your hotel from Cam Ranh Airport. 

Me and Quang Anh see how many business executives in speedos we can spot from the rooftop.

Our first hotel, Alana, was an instant injection of luxury and indulgence, and was located right in the middle of the tourist-heavy beachside area of Nha Trang.  The priciest of the three hotels we had in store, it delivered on rooftop pool views, amenities and all-inclusive buffet breakfasts. I mused over the concept of "saving the best for last" and how it was all but a cultural rarity in Vietnam. 

A quick walk-around of the town delivered all the usual sights, including Aussie-bait bars where 90's classic pub-rock roared from stereos and Russian-marketed stalls offering hair braiding services and temporary tattoos. At night, crowded seafood buffets were filled with domestic and Chinese tour groups sharing their evening meal, seperate in their sameness and sharing their baffling love of eating soup in summery weather. 

A beautiful mural is a sure fire white-girl aesthetic trap. #story #suckerfornostalgia

Familiar with Vietnamese cuisine we opted for novelty, and found an Indian food restaurant for the boys to experience for the first time. Rice, naan, butter chicken and assorted masalas were instant kid-pleasers, to my relief and to the boys' greedy gusto. 

Freeing the children of Vietnam from the shackles of their chopstick dependency.

A post-dinner ice cream and a long walk on the beach were in order, synonymous with my childhood family holidays. Young couples gathered on the beach on woven rattan mats, a stones throw away from a blisteringly loud and bass-heavy DJ show. The noisy affair seemed carefully cultivated for Russian tourists who sat at the surrounding tables sipping their fruit-based cocktails. The whole stage threatened to vibrate the whole beach and would later keep me awake from our 12th storey hotel room into the early hours of the morning. 

Smiling through the pain/shame. 

The next morning, disaster struck in typical slow-burning fashion when Trong, dutifully undertaking his uncle responsibilities at the beach, was dunked by a strong wave and managed to dislocate his shoulder. Unsure of the exact protocol and having to cut his body-surfing demonstration short, I whisked him away in a taxi, still dripping and shirtless. We arrived at a nearby emergency room as I desperately tried to contact my nurse mother over Facebook chat and as Trong's groans intensified as he clutched his frozen forearm.
I had been in Vietnamese emergency rooms before, and knew I had to had to be prepared to have our bill tripled should they decide to charge me based on my nationality. I soon felt uneasy at the thought of having to be overcharged and stuck in an understaffed ward. 

Wild goose chase for a doctor.

It took nearly an hour and two X-Rays, my patient's pain levels growing gradually, for the doctor to arrive. 

After examining the shoulder, he promptly removed his rubber sandal, stuck his left foot in his Trong's armpit and yanked the joint back into place with a deep crack which echoed throughout the simple room, fellow patients laying in wait and watching through the corner of their eyes. I was of no comfort and desperately tried to look away as I stroked the patient's ankle pitifully for reassurance, but almost immediately the pain subsided. 

He lost his glasses and $6 but not his smile.

After receiving our bill (which came to a staggering $6US), a happy Trong and I took a taxi back to check out and grab a hearty seafood lunch with the family. We felt grateful our situation turned out favourably, unlike the poor lobster we'd chosen from the tank to become our lunch, listing the things that could have easily gone wrong during our medical misadventures over Chao Tom Hum and mango lassi. 

Delicious lobster congee and an unfortunate end to our crustacean friend.

Later we took a ferry across the inlet to Vinpearl resort, the commercial darling of Vingroup, an omnipotent business presence in Vietnam's economic structure.  

Anything is a buffet if you're brave or Chinese enough.

The next few days went by peacefully, and we were able to squeeze in visits to Vinpearl land, sauna and jacuzzi sessions, and thrice-daily buffets, which were a major roadblock for our budding beach-bods. Vinpearl resort seemed to be catered more towards Chinese guests and domestic families of privilege, the all-inclusive model used to create the illusion of luxury for less.



I was surprised by Trong's sister's active approach to holidaying, wanting to see and do as many activities as possible within a short space of time. Working in a demanding office job, I was curious as to why Trang didn't follow the more relaxed Western style of wanting to slow down and 'take in' the experience. I chalked this up to her valuing efficiency within her tight holiday schedule, which I'd say is a trait she shares with most full time workers in Vietnam.

Exploring Vinpearl Land - matching sandal scheme unintentional.

Despite sporadic rain showers,  we enjoyed the mild thrill of amusement rides and game arcades, and of watching rude line-cutters being asked to leave for trying to bring their screaming infant on a rollercoaster. 
Musical water fountain and dolphin shows were available twice daily and performed to arenas packed with blank-faced iPad photographers, selfie-stick aficionados and squealing kids, the whole experience becoming a tad overwhelming at times, depending on how far we were from our latest meal. 

Vinpearl's Iconic cable car towers visible by night.

With interesting yet overcrowded aquariums with expensive and with lacklustre food options, the park certainly had its downsides, but the boys enjoyed their time, the littlest even being coerced into trying some of the scarier rides. The scenic alpine ride impressed me beyond all measure though the line for this ride was a ridiculous 3 hour wait, so we waited until the rain had scared some of the more vain tourists away so that we could enjoy our thrilling whizz down the mountainside. 

Happy moments before the little guy was almost ripped out of my grasp by the G Force. #CheckYourSafetyStandardPrivilege

Back on the mainland and away from the isolated bubble of Vinpearl, we checked into Regalia Hotel, the cheapest (a gentle 1.5 million Vnd for an ocean-facing double room) and closest to the beach we'd had yet. We said goodbye to Trang and the boys the next day, and joined our Russian hotel-goers in electively sizzling in the sun by day, cider in hand, and sourcing trendy summer attire and pedicures by night.  

Locals gather under the shade of trees, already-red Russians stand deliberately in scorching sunlight. Lilo, eat your heart out.

Seafood Pho is next-level. 

Our preferred lazy Western customs of room service and excessive sun exposure balanced out the more adventurous aspects of our trip and left us feeling refreshed and a tender shade of pink upon returning to Hanoi. 

 We didn't even miss Pho, taking the opportunity to try its seafood-laden Southern cousin in a small seaside eatery.





Nha Trang was a vibrant and commercialised but altogether enjoyable holiday destination, whether you're a local, a foreign tourist or an expat seeking a trip out of the city. Personally, the modern luxury of Alana was the clear winner in terms of relaxation and comfort, and the commercial style of Vinpearl Resort wasn't really my cup of tea. Regalia was a decent and affordable place to stay, and given I live only a few hours away, I would consider it again in a hot Hanoi second should I ever need a beach escape from city life.

Nine out of ten burnt Russians agree, it's the place to be. 

Beach Bummery engaged.