At some point during researching Hoi An, I stumbled across a place called the Tra Que vegetable village.
The info that I read told us that the village was approx 300 years old and it’s a network of small farms. All of which produce various fruits, veg and fresh herbs. We also read that there was a few restaurants in the place.
We both quite liked the sounds of that so decided to follow a cycling route that we found online. The first part of the route gave two street names and said when you are at the junction of the two streets, you had to turn left.
The problem is that it didn’t tell you what way you were supposed to be facing to begin with so turning left could have taken you down any of the four streets.
At this point, we done two things. One was to never trust other peoples vague directions and the second was to just go our own way.
We followed the road along towards the war memorial and kept going for a bit. A short way into the journey, the rain came on. It wasn’t much to bother with at first but that soon changed, a bit of rain soon turned into a downpour of biblical proportions.
It was warm rain though so it wasn’t too bad cycling around in it. We found our way into a small village which was outside of Hoi An. I’ve no ideas what the village was called but it had speakers along the side of the road with what sounded like a radio broadcast going on.
Old stories refer to communist propaganda blaring out of speakers in towns and villages, it could have been that but it could also have been the Vietnamese equivalent of Stuart Cosgrove and Tam Cowan doing their ‘off the ball’ show.
Our improvised cycling route took us further up the village and on to a narrow track. There were a group of guys sitting outside a house having some beers and playing cards. They shouted and waved as we passed by – a lot of people in both China and Vietnam seem to do that when they see a tourist.
These guys motioned for us to go over but we never bothered – mainly because we don’t really drink beer.
After a few more friendly waves and hellos from the locals, we got to the end of a track. As we about turned, a woman shouted over and pointed us in the right direction.
We followed the river for a bit and then the track moved away and took us by a pig farm – we couldn’t see the pigs but we could hear them and someone or something had upset them.
It was round about here that the rain turned from a shower to a downpour. We didn’t really know where we were going by this point but a group of guys in a local cafe were able to point us in the right direction.
At the next junction, another person did the same thing so we found our way back to where the junction that we started at.
From there, we cycled towards the vegetable village and farm. By this point, Audrey had put on a waterproof jacket and had her hood up. We were both soaked through, a lot of the locals had waterproof jackets on too and a lot of the bikes had big baskets on the front.
Everyone looked like E.T which kept me amused.
When we found our way to the farm and a restaurant, the rain stopped and the sun came out just as we got under cover and out of the way of it.
We had lunch and walked around the grounds for a bit and the heat dried us off.