Basket Boats and Crab Catching

The scent of Jasmine filled the humid, sticky air as we cycled along the paths of the rice-paddy fields. Our sweat was on free-flow, pouring down our heat-weary bodies. We pedalled faster to create a breeze in our faces; a contradictory action which made us hotter, but gave the illusion of coolness. Each narrow road passed neat houses. Sometimes a pedlar would shout out, eager and excited by the prospect of some long-awaited business, ‘Coca-Cola, Lemon, Ice-Cold’: we shook our heads apologetically.
We had pedalled here from our hotel in an attempt to escape the tourist centre of the bustling, ancient-town of Hoi An, located on the tourist trail in the middle of Vietnam. Although the town is beautiful, the crowds can be overwhelming especially in the heat of the day.
Luckily, it is remarkably easy to experience the fascinating lilt of Vietnamese life. With the aid of man’s modern horse, the bicycle, you can escape into the coconut groves in less than ten minutes.
As we stopped to wipe sweat from our pink brows, a kindly lady grinned at us from under her non la, a bamboo conical-shaped hat. She gestured to us to enter her house which, to our astonishment, was made entirely from bamboo. We were led to a shady veranda, and within what seemed like seconds: tea and coconut, melon and what look like poppadoms are placed in front of us. The women cannot speak English and we had not grasped Vietnamese, so we sat in a friendly silence in awe of our peaceful, lovingly-crafted surroundings.
After feasting and relaxing, we were bustled to a basket boat, its only occupant an ancient looking man with grooves in his face as if he had etched in a map of the local tributaries. We rowed down the river and as the humidity was causing our breath to catch, the man shouted and pointed to the coconut groves. We paddled wildly, keen to impress with our new rowing skills. A bamboo stick is pulled out with a piece of string attached to the end. A small piece of fish was attached to the string and this was dangled out, like an intricate miniature fishing rod. We wait, breath held, wondering what might happen.
Nothing happened.
Huge laughter emerged from the ancient man and he swiftly took the tiny rod from our hands and skilfully flicked a crab from the surrounding palms. Under his tutorage, we finally grasped the art.
As we returned to the bamboo-house, we were thankful for the friendliness and openness of these two people who had created a lasting memory of our trip to Hoi An.