After a few days at China Beach we headed to Da Nang, where our one and only goal was to get on a southbound train. Unfortunately, because of Tet, there were no trains for another two days — so we had no choice but to sit tight for a couple of nights.
Da Nang is a big city, but quiet — at least during Tet. We spent most of our time around the river, looking for somewhere to escape the busier parts of town.
To be honest, we achieved absolutely nothing of note in Da Nang. We simply survived on the bare minimum — buying food at the supermarket and cooking ourselves — wandered without direction, and took refuge in shopping centres to enjoy the air conditioning. The heat was something else.
Views of the river that splits Da Nang
Eventually the day came to leave. This second Vietnamese train journey we did in the cheapest class: 11 hours on a wooden seat, among the local population — people sitting in the aisles playing cards or sleeping, some even stretched out on the floor under the seats with nothing but a mat as a mattress.
It might sound like torture to read about, but it's genuinely an experience I don't regret. It gives you a real window into how most Vietnamese people actually travel and live day to day — it opens your eyes.
How people sleep under the seats on Vietnamese trains
The toilets on Vietnamese trains
The train arrived at our destination, a station called Dieu Tri, just over 10 kilometres from Quy Nhon. We brushed off all the motorbike taxis and tuk-tuk drivers who converged on us and started walking. Within a few metres we found the main road with local buses heading into Quy Nhon. The ticket cost 7,000 dong — not the several dollars any taxi driver at the station would have charged.
At the time, 1 euro was equivalent to around 27,415 Vietnamese dong — so 7,000 dong for the bus works out at about 25 euro cents.
Quy Nhon is another beachside city, quiet and relaxed — at least during Tet — where we spent another couple of days before continuing south.
From there to Nha Trang we had to take a bus, since the trains were full and the only tickets left were at extortionate prices.
The bus experience was another adventure — one I'd recommend rather less. Avoid Vietnamese minibuses whenever you can. The drivers are kamikazes, overtaking with zero visibility and driving three-abreast on a two-lane road. On several occasions we came close to a head-on collision or nearly sideswiped someone.
Nha Trang is one of the Vietnamese cities most beloved by Vietnamese people themselves, along with Saigon — they have a special affection for it. But it didn't do much for us. A big city, long beach, large island just offshore.
Ilze on the beach at Nha Trang
Depending on how it's described, it can sound more or less appealing. If I mention that the island has a giant advertising billboard visible day and night from the shore, it loses quite a bit of its charm.
Being such a tourist-heavy city, prices are through the roof. Restaurants typically have two menus: one for local Vietnamese and one for tourists — including Vietnamese tourists.
Interesting how they use laminated paper as phone cases and vinyl to wrap all kinds of objects and vehicles
In any other Vietnamese city you can pay the local price without asking or checking the menu — just smile and pay what seems right. In Nha Trang they have a clear policy: the tourist gets squeezed, whether American, European or Vietnamese. We didn't even bother trying. Most of our meals came from the supermarket. For what actually works when navigating Vietnamese prices, see the definitive trick to paying local prices.
Nha Trang is a city for tourists seeking relaxation and comfort without worrying about the bill — not for anyone wanting to discover Vietnam and its people. For a full picture of what a month in the country actually cost us, here's our Vietnam spending breakdown.
