An Evening in Huế

As I stroll along the grassy shore of the Perfume River in Hu?, it doesn’t take long before I am spotted. My pale white legs shining like a beacon in the afternoon sun.
“Sir! Sir!” I spin around as a woman in her mid-thirties reaches me, breathless. She has a friendly, but well-lined face. “Dinner on riverboat?” she inquires.
I look out at the river. The sun sets over the mountains making the river glisten gold as the smell of spices emanates from somewhere among the expanse of boats. It does sound enticing.
“Umm…” I don’t say no straight away. My hesitation is as good as yes to her. She grabs my arm before I have time to dispute my fate and pulls me down to the water where I am greeted by her husband and three young children: The Trang family.
I discover that it will cost me 200,000 Dong for my evening. The voices in my head perk up: People warning me of the excessive charges in Hu?. I curse myself for not being more vigilant, but decide it’s too late to back out now.
Mrs Trang sets about preparing dinner on a small gas stove as her husband coasts down the river. The boat is a single windowed room with a table in the centre where the two older children sit me down to examine the bracelet I’m wearing.
It doesn’t take long for dinner to arrive: a massive concoction of various colourful, tangy dishes each with their own unique fragrance. I eat and drink with the Trang family who laugh at my Vietnamese attempts and I discover, through our limited conversation, this boat is also their home. The tarpaulin covering the holes in the roof offer scarce protection from a storm.
As the remnants are cleared from the table, it dawns on me that there is no sink on the boat. I hear a trickling noise and turn to see the youngest boy urinating off the end. No toilet either.
They take me back to shore where I will head to my hotel with all the comforts I have come to take for granted. The entire night was 12 dollars. As I think of my next destination I realise just how lucky I am.