From the Fairy Stream we set out northwards, cruising along the beautiful Mui Ne coast. Dark clouds that wrapped the whole village had totally disappeared, leaving a bright sunny sky behind. It was a beautiful sight; the sea and sky were in rich deep blue, and the whitish bubbles of waves lapping the shore gently, murmuring of what sounds like music to our ears. From a distance we could see a cape pointed out to the sea,  where I imagined must be a great lookout point.

Ain’t it beautiful?

No one was in sight, and we enjoyed our moment of solitude at this very heaven on earth. Well, if you discounted the cows that were trimming the grass at the side of the road.

From the beautiful beach the driver continued driving further inland, and after a right turn at one of the junction we found ourselves in a middle of a red, barren land. Gone all the comfy and breezy ride, welcome untarred road!

It has been an hour and I was curious to how much further we need to go, but I kept the question to myself as the driver seemed to be focus with the driving . Besides, both of us were busy covering our head from banging the jeep’s metal roof, as the jeep swerved around potholes and some cow-pulling carts. Bumping and shaking all the way, the question somehow stucked at my throat, and the constant ”uh, oh.. ouch… ” were the only words I managed to muster.

The carts made a nice scene actually; seing them along the red, dry land one would easily forget that it is indeed in Vietnam.

Man and his cattles, Mui Ne.

Suddenly my eyes caught sight of a fantastic view of white and blue. After years of admiring her photos and dreaming of meeting her, there she was, lying in front of our naked eyes. What else if not the white sand dune herself. Finally!

Our jeep stopped by the blue lake full with lotus, with the dune as it backdrops it was like an oasis. Beautiful indeed.

 Our jeep.

I was happy to see such huge rolling hills of sand at first, but got a bit distracted as I realized how much effort would it take to climb those hills. There are other alternative of course, if you don’t mind spending, but I felt the ATV would not be the best option to experience the dune, naturally. (Rather the USD30 per hour is way too much for us!).

As they say, the best things in life are always free; hence without wasting time we took off or slippers and started walking. The sand was soft and warm, and it felt great!

Marks of ATV tracks criss-crossing the vast land, and I was struggling to get a clean photo without those marks and footprints. Needless to say about those camera unfriendly wind kept on blowing fine sands into the lens that I had to wrapped her with plastics and all. I guess early morning would be the best time to visit as it will be less people and over the night the wind will remove all those tracks again. But that did not deter our spirit. We were kids once more, spending time at the dune taking photos in various poses and angles, jumping here and there.

We saw the sand ridge over the lake, and decided to head there. There were blobs all over the sand, thanks to the morning downpour.

 We walked along the steep ridge towards the end of it, with the sand on one side and the lake on the others.

Somewhere in the middle I had to stop and let DH continue with the walking, as I was having a sudden rush of vertigo. The wind was blowing hard, and  it was difficult not to lose balance. The image of me rolling straight into the lake down below kept popping in mind.

 But that did not stop me from enjoying the splendid view. If only those marks  and patches were not there.

 Sand, sand and more sand. As far as the eyes could see.

 Another view of the dune as we walked back to the jeep.

We drove back towards Mui Ne, and made a stop at the red dune. Unlike her sister, it was crowded, perhaps cause it is nearer and easily accessible from the road.  Everywhere we could see family on outings, couples on a date, peddlers with their shoulder poles, flock of tourists unloading from the colorful tour buses, persuasive local kids with a scrap of plastic offering the slide down the dune, travellers who seemed at lost (that’s us!), yadda, yadda, yadda.  Even the sands are not as fine as those at white dune, and I have to agree that white dune is in fact the best between the two.

Sliding down the dune must be the “in” thing here, and age is not a factor. Suddenly everyone was a master at sand sliding, and started showing off their styles.

It was fun to see them in action too, like these kids - their faces were glowing from all the excitements. The positive vibes were so contagious that I was laughing and giggling all the same.

 Lady in conical hat waiting for customer.

We enjoyed the sunset at the red dune, leaving only when it was almost dark. The trip back to the guesthouse was quiet, and everyone was engulfed with their own thoughts. Our driver, well he was not a man of many words. We will be leaving Mui Ne tonight, and saying goodbye was elusive that it made me speechless.

I’m already missing this place.

Continuation from HERE.

Half day tour around Mui Ne was part of the package we took when we purchased the bus ticket from the agent in Saigon, and there he was, the driver, waiting at the lobby 2pm pronto. We have considered doing the self tour by bike initially, which definitely much cheaper than the USD10 per pax for the jeep ride, but had our minds changed due to time constraint. Furthermore there’s not much info about Mui Ne in the net and the map we had wasn’t reliable at all. I don’t want to risk missed visiting those places I intent by wasting time getting lost. Not that is not possible given more time. Well that’s the irony of being a hasty traveller, you don’t have the luxury of time and fast track options are usually slightly expensive than DIY. On the other hand, we try to cover as much possible in the short time span, in a practical way rather than just being there and done that. 

Unlike the morning, afternoon saw a clear, blue sky and we hoped that it will remain for the rest of the day. Our first destination was the Fairy Stream, which is one of the highlights of Mui Ne. Actually we tried to look for it during our short excursion earlier, but unable to locate it. Eventually it is very near to our guesthouse, which we had bypassed unknowingly quite a few times.

We were deposited at the side of the road, and our driver pointed the secluded path that tucked in between houses and mini markets. Nothing indicates the place save for a makeshift signboard made of zinc. You won’t see it unless you are really looking for it.  “Forty minutes”, said our driver and we sort of mumbled “uh.. oh..okay..”. We followed the direction faithfully, curious to where it will lead us. 

Some hundred meters away we finally arrived at a murky creek, and no one was in sight. Being the most sensible thing to do, we folded our pants and took off our slippers, and started trudging aimlessly in the water. The water was cold and refreshing, only knee deep; and it was not dirty but just brown from all the sands.

We walked for a few minutes and started to question ourselves whether we were in the right direction, and was relief to see a few people in front of us. Must be the right path.

We came to a sandy hill and decided to trek up. Going upward the 80 degree inclination over soft and wet sand was easy said than done. Panting, with streams of sweat rolling down my cheeks I finally made it to the top.

Nevertheless the splendid view from top was worth all the efforts and gave us wider perspective of the area. We saw for the first time the white sandy formation that line up the creek in contrast of the reddish hillside that makes up the Fairy Stream. Down we go! 

It is green and lush at one side, while the red and white sands dominate the other makes the place unique no less. The locals call it their “little canyon” but this is ultimately no match for the one in Arizona. At first glimpse there’s nothing much and seeing red soils is typical back home but when you come to think of it, it is actually amazing as the confluence of colors of the sands - from white to orange to gold to deep red to black won’t simply mix.

The colors of the sand that makes Mui Ne.

We were also greeted by this colorful centipede, which tones very much camourflage with the surrounding.

Like kids we loafed around playing with the muds and checking out the white pinnacles. There’s a small waterfall further up, and from that juncture we walked back to our jeep. Walking downstream was much faster, and along the way we bypassed some ostrich farm and cauldrons of fermented fish. A few foreigners stopped by for the ostrich riding experience, for just USD2. We on the other hand, moved along and saw our driver, waiting for us at one of the stall, sipping his coffee.

Unfortunately we didn’t catch sight of any fairies. 

Mũi Né is a coastal fishing village in the Binh Thuan Province of southeastern Vietnam, about 200km from Ho Chi Minh City. Facing the rough South China Sea, the area is known as one of the kitesurfing/windsurfing destination by the avid enthusiasts. Life at Mui Ne is very much preserved at its best, although tourism is booming. At a first glance, it looks nothing more than a typical Vietnam fishing village, and the question would be “Why Mui Ne?”.  Guess the city never suits me well and there’s something about Mui Ne that lured me there, and I’m glad I made the trip.

Despite the tiring day before, we woke up quite early and was eager to explore the surrounding. I immediately fell in love with Mui Ne at my very first sight of it. My mood wasn’t a bit disturbed by the gloomy day, and I found Mui Ne very peaceful and refreshing. Being monsoon, it was an off season in Mui Ne and the chances of bumping into another tourist was very unlikely. The street was wet from the night’s downpour and it was laidback and quiet except for a few passers by. The birds were chirping happily greeting the morning while the coconut trees that littering the shoreline were waving gently as if welcoming us to their humble abode.  

We walked to a cafe nearby our guesthouse for breakfast, and having the nice brewed Vietnamese milk coffee was inevitable. To me Vietnamese coffee never taste the same in other part of the world except in Vietnam themselves. No matter if you are using the original coffee beans to make them, you can’t beat the taste when it’s made in their home country. It’s true that I haven’t been to every corner of the world so there might be others which taste better, but I have to admit that Vietnam’s coffee is my favourite so far and it would be on the top of the chart for quite some time. Perhaps it is a matter of preference but once you taste it, you could never get rid of it. They are like morphine to me.

The fresh vegetable spring rolls was on the menu that morning, but unlike the Vietnamese coffee I must say that I like the one that I ate in KL better. Anyway we were grateful for the meal knowing that the other alternative was to spend the day in hunger.

We set off after breakfast with a bike we rented from the cafe and took a ride down the strip. Armed with a brief map we printed from the net and our little knowledge of the area we headed to the Mui Ne town. Along the way we were stopped by the splendid view of Mui Ne bay. Dark clouds started to emerge at the skyline, and it looked like it was going to rain again. I prayed in silence, hoping that the black clouds would pass. I was a bit worried that it might affect our plan.

Locals strolling the rough seashore. The wind started to blow hard and almost blew off my hat, pulling and crashing the waves at the shore.  The air started to get misty due to the drizzles and storm was fast approaching. 

 A local in traditional basket boat, Thung Chai which is similar to the Welsh coracle trying to break the rough waves.

God must be listening to my prayer after all, that within a few minutes the bad weather subdued and the sea was calm again.

 The spectators. They  were smiling with amusement when I pointed the camera at them. What a silly tourist we must be!

We made a move to the Mui Ne town proper, in search for the morning market. It was just a small town sitting along the strech of road, with motorbikes plying to and fro.

I’m always fascinated with market scene as the place not only reveal the lifestyle of the locals, but provided the ground for socializing with them. By the way “Cho” means market in Vietnamese.

 A lady with her heaps of sugar apples.

 Another gooseberries discovery, but I wasn’t surprised to see the durians.

We drifted to the wet market section, and saw the woman with her prizes, all fresh from the sea. Some of the catches were unfamiliar to the eyes.

 Local ladies in conical hat were busy doing their groceries.

I’ve never seen anything looks so fresh and healthy. Just see how big and crisp the spinach was. The leaves were as big as my palm.

A bunch of ladies having breakfast at one of the makeshift  stall at the market. The smell made my mouth water, but alas it wasn’t halal.

 What is market without the livestock?

And the owner. He was laughing merrily when we asked to photograph his ducks, and gave us this pose when we took the photo of him. Sporting guy.

We spent some time at the market, watching the world goes by. It was a busy day indeed – anywhere we could see ladies in conical hats  engrossed with the selling and haggling,  locals having breakfast at the makeshift stalls and catching up with the village gossips, the quacking and clucking, the riot of colors of the farm produce, ugly looking fish and weird clamps, miniature fruits : baby corn, baby melon, baby gourd, baby cucumber et cetera, et cetera, et cetera.

The bike was rented for half a day, and after leaving the market we still had some time to spare. The gas was full too, so we ended up lollygagging around town and the nearby housing area, venturing into unknown roads and streets trying to get lost. But Mui Ne wasn’t so big to begin with, we found that getting lost was rather a far-fetched idea.

We simply let the bike took us wherever it wants, and at a turn of what looks like a deserted path we arrived at a fishing harbour. The foul smells of salts and rotten fish instantaneously hit our nose, as our eyes catched sight at the colorful boats and coracles that moored at the shore while aplenty of them still lie beyond the coastline.

Notwithstanding the malicious odor, the view was superb and photography worthy. Too bad the dark clouds were still hanging there, and getting darker and heavier by the minutes. That means we need to wrap up the whole jaunt quickly!

 And so did these people.

While their husbands at sea, the women were diligently cleaning and sorting the catch as soon as they arrive to the shore. Some of the fish will be sold at the market while the others will be dried.

The girl looked at me with puzzling eyes, she must be wondering why I was so keen with taking photos of her mother cleaning the fish. 

A man making a trip between the boats and the shore, transporting the day catches. Maneuvering the bamboo weaven coracle looks tiring, the distance it makes reciprocal with the effort required unlike the typical rowing. It is flimsy – the boat, instead of moving forward it mostly wobbled in the water.

One of the basket coracle laden with fishing stuff finally made it at the shore, and pulling her against the rolling waves was ardous too. It kept on moving in circles! At the back I saw a man carrying basket at his shoulders wading through the water. That was some act!

After several pulling and pushing she was finally safe ashore, the coracle. While dozens upon dozens of fishing boats anchored at sea albeit the accumulated dark clouds.

By the look of the sky and the sound of thunder it was going to be a shower, and the stinking fishy smell was killing me. We decided to call it a day, and it was a good thing as it started to rain cats and dogs soon after we left. Arrived just in time at the guesthouse, we should be soaking wet if not for the poncho I kept handy in my bag. I was quite happy with the discoveries we made, although it would be great if the weather was on our side. But I guess god has other plan for us, and very much looking forward for what He has in store. Until then, I think I would like to sit quietly at the verandah,  enjoying the day in my life at Mui Ne in between the rain drops. And a glass of iced milk coffee, of course.

One fine afternoon of mid June found us wandering outside the Tan Son Nhat airport looking for the shuttle bus to Saigon (Ho Chi Minh City, that is) and there it was, parked right at pillar no. 13.

The white and blue shuttle no. 152 to city center. The VND4000 fare is good enough for poor traveller like us, compared to the USD10 by cab.

The bus pulled off immediately as we hopped on, with a few passengers including us, which happen to be the only foreigner. Soon enough we were cruising the bustling streets of Vietnam’s largest city, and within minutes arrived at the iconic landmark of Ben Thanh Market.

We were dropped off at the bus terminal in front the market, and while figuring which way to go, we had our eyes fixed on the tallest building in the area. Did we saw Menara TM just now?

From Ben Thanh we walked to the Pham Ngu Lao street, looking for the tour agent  for the bus ride to Mui Ne. Pham Ngu Lao is famous for its budget hotels  and the many tour agencies, and is often considered at par with Khao San Road in Bangkok. 

A lone traffic policeman manned the crazy hordes of motorcycles. Crossing street in Vietnam is totally unhealthy; it’s bad for the heart!

We managed to locate our tour agent at Bui Vien street, and sorted out the booking. The bus to Mui Ne only departs at 8.00pm thus we were left with a few hours to idle. Since we will be arriving very late at night, food was a concern so we decided to fill up our stomach with pho and some takeaways from a halal stall near Ben Thanh. Guess what, halal food here cost a bomb, and that was just a stall. The pho tasted so-so, and the rice for takeaways was cold and hard. The eatery was crowded with fellow Malaysians on their short shopping trip,  of which we made friends with some of them, while a few others – well it’s better left unsaid.

Street scene at night in Saigon. Back at the tour agency after the quick dinner we were stuck with another hour to spare, so we killed the time wandering around and taking photos of the area.

Around 7.30pm we were called to the bus, and I being a tad excited as it was my first time riding a sleeper. The seat was a bit cramped, and I pity DH and those Americans who had to crouch within the tiny space. However this was much better rather than to sit up straight for 6 hours on normal buses. With pillow, blanket and all, it was a comfy ride; and I was pretty much sound asleep throughout the journey (although it started as a pretext to ignore the lovey-dovey local couple whose romancing in the seat in front of us) and was only awaken when we reached Phan Thiet for toilet break and supper.

From Phan Thiet it was just a couple of minutes drive to Mui Ne, and before long we were dispatched at a desolate street in front of our guest house. We were sort of alone in a middle of nowhere, in the middle of the night. Luckily the guest house keeper was aware of our coming, and after a few rings at the gate he opened the door, took us in and showed the room. It was basic, but enough for the night. The whole day was spent driving from our house to LCCT, boarding a plane to Saigon and taking the 6-hour bus to Mui Ne; it was hell exhausting that we jumped with joy at a sight of clean bed and hot shower. A quick bath and dinner follow suit; and then slipped onto the bed for a good night rest. Comes tomorrow a new day will dawn, and perhaps we will chance upon another adventure.