So I spent yesterday evening exploring Hoi An. It’s a really pretty little town with a bustling old quarter. There are temples a-plenty but, reader, I find myself temporarily templed out, so I did no more than give them an admiring nod on my way past. Although even that cursory inspection was enough to show me that temples in Hoi An are all on the flat. I can’t help but feel that – somewhere – the gods are having a laugh at my expense.

There are a few things Hoi An is known for. It is a shopper’s Mecca – and is archly knowing in fulfilling that role. Most of the shops claim to be fixed price although, here, fixed is a fluid concept. Apart from the usual souvenir-type tourist tat (and its pretty high class tat for the most part) what the town really excels in is tailoring. Hoi An is the place to come to get clothes made. Every other store is a tailor’s and apparently they can copy almost anything in less than half the time it takes you to google the garment you want copied. There is a ball at College in early May, and I toyed with the idea of getting a dress made; but at risk of sounding like a total wanker, I have a plethora of evening dresses and if I need another I can make it myself…

BUT. The girls I met at Halong Bay had recommended a shoe shop and so, late yesterday afternoon, I went there.

It works like a normal shoe shop, in as much as it has walls lined with shoes and handbags. You pick out a pair you like. Or two. And then the lovely shop lady brings you a *mahoosive* pile of leather swatches and you choose your colours. And then she draws around your feet with a biro, and measures around your toe joints and instep and tells you to come back tomorrow.

Well. I did all that. I chose two pairs of shoes and then a pair of boots caught my eye while she was outlining my foot with the world’s tickliest biro. And we all know how I love a boot…!

So it turned into three pairs of shoes. And I went back this afternoon as requested, and two pairs fit like a glove and the third was a bit baggy. So I was sent away again and told to come back at 7pm and ohmygod I have three pairs of handmade shoes that fit like an absolute glove and are utterly beautiful and all for £150!! Just amazing.

The other thing Hoi An is famous for is its lanterns. Which are, I have to admit, really beautiful. They hang in every tree and on every tourist boat, and after dark the whole town lights up like a Christmas tree with lights swaying delicately across the top of the street, and floating down the river. It’s very pretty.

However, it’s also very crowded and absolutely impossible to move about. There is a strong link with both China and Japan for some reason, and the town is absolutely heaving with tourists from both of those places in a way that quite takes the fun out of being a tourist myself, because I can’t help thinking about how utterly miserable it must be if you live here and your town gets clogged up like this.

On the train yesterday, I met a Hungarian psychology student about Josh’s age. We were chatting about the ineptitude of our respective governments and how depressing the swing to the right across Europe is. He mentioned that he was going to Danang for a couple of days beach time. And as soon as he said it, the idea of a beach day lodged itself firmly in my mind.

So, having grappled with the crowds last night, this morning I got up bright and early and set out for An Bang beach, about 5 miles from Hoi An.

It’s a blissful place of white sands and blue skies and loungers and people bringing you fresh coconuts to drink. The loungers are arranged by restaurant, as is common the world over, I think. The First Lady who tried to sell me lounger space was adamant that as a singleton I should relegate myself to the back row, and save the front row for groups. So I kept walking, and eventually found someone who was delighted to relieve me of some cash and allow me to lounge in the front row, in solitary splendour.

I spent the morning snoozing and reading and swimming in a warm, crystal clear sea. By the time the sun had moved around to take my shade I’d had enough, and moved up to the little cafe behind. I had a wonderful lunch of grilled clams and fries (!!) before setting off back to my shoe fitting.

So as an aside, the waitress at the lunchtime cafe was giggling with me because, she explained, she finds “grilled” very difficult to pronounce. So I actually ate girled clams. We had a lovely chat about it, and when I went to pay, she asked how old I am. This is a common question here, because conversation hinges on selecting the correct form of pronouns which, in turn, is decided by the relative seniority of speaker and audience. So I told her I’m 52. “Oh, you look so young!” she said “You’re so cool!” Bearing in mind I’d just been sitting in the sun for 4 hours so was almost certainly bright red and my hair all sea-fluffed, this was a helluva compliment! So I rather floated back to town, with my mood only very slightly dented by a taxi driver who tried to pretend I’m staying in a no-car street and so dropped me a km away but still charged full fare….

Anyway, shoe shopping done, I pootled back through town. It’s the new moon tonight, which is kind of a big deal, according to the guide books. It seemed to be much the same as last night, but with a greater volume of people. I had chosen where I wanted to eat – Madame Vy’s market restaurant – and meandered in. I was slightly surprised to be greeted by a French maître d’. I don’t know why, but I think he was the first non-Vietnamese hospitality worker I’ve seen. Anyway. They were happy to sit me where I wanted to be – on a balcony – and I ate the most fabulous meal. Towards the end, another European waitress came to see if I’d like another beer, and we got chatting. She’s called Mimi and has lived here for about 20 years and was utterly lovely. Honestly, I have met such nice people here!

(ps. Me. These shoes were made for me! #smug)