Five AM is the most peaceful hour in Vietnam. There are no trucks or buses on the street; only the occasional motorbike putts by. A lone woman trots to "her" spot on the kerb, her pho pots bouncing up and down suspended from a bamboo pole across her shoulder. From around the corner comes music, old folks doing their tai chi perhaps?
Our minibus arrives right on time - only 15 minutes late and we cruise through streets just beginning to come to life. Outside the town bikes and motorbikes bring produce and chickens to the markets. We see conical hats in the rice paddies. Work has already begun although it isn't yet dawn. A man plows behind a huge waterbull. Farming is hard work, rice farming especially so.
We are the first tourists to arrive at My Son, an archeological site from the Champa Kingdom. One complex of temples remains intact and several others are being excavated. According to our guide other parts of My Son were bombed by the "aggressors" during the American War but we can see no signs of battle.
The Cham people flourished from the 5th to the 13th Centuries. They practiced a special blend of Hinduism and their sculpture and archetecture reflect the Indian influence. Only a few pieces of sculpture remain in situ, the rest are in the museum in Danang.
We had the site to ourselves for an hour and a half but three Spaniards from our group broke the spell of the misty jungle morning with their continuous chatter. Connie still managed to find seven new birds. That's 61 so far in Vietnam.
Back in Hoi An we packed and spent the afternoon in the old part of town. You could probably tag onto a tour group and visit many of the sites for free but we spent the $4 for a ticket. It's for a good cause after all.
