The lack of natural light in our room meant that Pill and I awoke very bleary-eyed at ten to one in the afternoon! I think the lady at Duy Phuoc Cafe must have realised we were hungover when we ordered 2 cheese omelettes (the necessary unhealthy fried food that tastes so good after a night on the beer), a fruit salad (to replace the nutrients in our body lost through the excessive amounts of alcohol we’d consumed) and enough water to fill an ocean! Even after I’d finished the last drop of water it had come nowhere close to quenching my seemingly unquenchable thirst.
We spent a couple of hours on a very windy beach, so windy in fact that everytime someone walked past us the movement of their feet disturbed the sand, which was subsequently blown all over our faces and bodies as we lay. The objects we’d placed upon the corners of our sarongs to prevent them from cocooning us on the sand, were also being blown out of position. As we left the beach, the wind was so strong and the humidity so high that we really thought there was a storm on its way.The storm didn’t arrive, which was quite fortunate as we were on our way to the full moon party this evening on a secluded beach about 30km from Nha Trang. We all met for drinks beforehand at The Red Apple and were given straw hats and bandanas to get us in the mood. When the bus left around 7pm there were not enough seats to accomodate all of us, so I was wedged on to the front seat with the arm rest digging into my back next to Pill and a British guy who’s just bought a bar in Guatemala.
The bus stopped by the side of a dark and deserted road and we were met by a man dressed like a security card who was carrying a flashlight. This in itself was very strange, so when he confiscated our empty bottles and instructed us to follow him down an unlit sandy pathway lined with dense vegetation, the experience became even stranger. Considering we’d expected to get off the bus and be met by the sounds of DJ’s, thumping bass, and a vast array of colourful lights decorating a beach full of revellers in various stages of intoxication, to find a lone security guard and a deserted dirt track was surreal to say the least. We walked for about 500m before approaching the brow of a hill. From the top of the hill we beheld a small stage, a couple of amateur D.J’s (the flyer promised ‘international D.J’s’), one bar, a scattering of fairy lights dangling from the trees, a bonfire waiting to be lit, and a very beautiful but very empty beach. This was certainly no Kho Phanyan!
Nevertheless, I was determined to make the best out of the evening and it did turn out to be a lot of fun after the inappropriate magic show and dancing competition, reminiscent of a school disco! An hour or two into the party there were two girls, trashed, dancing around the – now lit – bonfire. An hour later two security guards were attempting to prop up a semi-conscious guy who was so wasted his legs had turned to jelly. The two tiny Vietnamese men were strugling to hold the weight of this western giant and he eventually crumbled to the floor, still holding his partially smoked cigarette in his hand. Copious amounts of cocktail buckets were consumed, numerous photos were taken of the five of us in our silly hats and bandanas in various stages of intoxication. The cute guy who got ran over last night was hobbling around with a drink in his hand, mingling with the guests and pulling strange faces in everyone’s snapshots. I was up on the stage with the rest of the crowd, bouncing around to the likes of the Chemical Brothers with a load of random strangers, including the older guy with dreadlocks who I’d met in the toilet queue at the Red Apple.
As soon as I decided to sit down and join the others for a while, Tung from The Red Sun (I didn’t even know he was at the party until this point) found me. Well, that was it : I was then stuck with a love-sick lap dog for the duration of the night. Everywhere I went then so did he. I tried to make it clear that I wasn’t interested in him in that way, but either he didn’t understand or he was incredibly persistent – or just plain drunk! When the five of us decided to catch a taxi home at around 4am, he not only walked me to the taxi holding my hand like a child, but he got in the taxi with us! Poor Sam was sat in the middle of us like a gooseberry, as Tung once again grabbed hold of my hand like it was some kind of lifeline. By the time we reached Nha Trang, Tung had fallen asleep in the taxi, so I – if a little guiltily – stepped over him and crept back into the hotel with Pill.