On a quest to find Monkey Mountain...

I've heard that the train from Danang to Hue is magnificent, promising spectacular views the entire way. So, I took a bus this morning from Hoi An to Danang, where I have spent the day, before catching the train to Hue tomorrow morning. Danang isn't a great city by any means, one this is simply a thru-point for most travelers. There are a few points of interest that I took the time to check out today, Danang's only museum, the Museum of Champa Sculpture, and Danang's only mountain, Monkey Mountain. The Champa Museum was interesting, providing you can appreciate ancient sculptures and artifacts without any clue what you are looking at. Once again, the language barrier. All of the explanations and historical facts were in French and Vietnamese, which obviously did me no good. Nevertheless, I was able to decipher that the Champa people lived in this area during the 9th-15th centuries, and the artifacts in the museum were excavated from the holy site, My Son, the Vietnamese version of Angkor Wat. After the museum, I stopped by the market to pick up some lunch to take with me to Monkey Mountain. The choice of the day?? A Vietnamese sandwich, a custard apple, and 1/2 kilo of dragon's eye fruit. Yum!

The hotel owner promised me that Monkey Mountain was only 3-4km away and easily ascended on a bike. Well, I don't know if its that language barrier rearing its ugly head again, but I can tell you that after an hour of pedaling, I was only just barely at the base of the mountain. Last time I checked, it doesn't take an hour to ride 3km. Sweaty and already tired, I'm practically walking my up the hill, but in the distance I see a big sign and a nice looking building. That must be the visitors center...just make it that far. Well that's easier said than done when your mode of transport is a WWII era bike sporting a rusty chain and practically flat front tire! Turns out the sign I saw in the distance was just a billboard for Saigon Beer and the building, well, that was a police outpost. I eventually made it to a little restaurant called the Buddha Restaurant and Fish Market. Perfect, I thought. I'll stop in, enjoy a Coke, and ask for directions. Now I'm not sure if this place is brand new and still under construction or if it has recently been devastated by the rains that everyone keeps talking about. But there were people in the restaurant's uniform everywhere, but nobody was doing anything. As I walked into the open air restaurant and market, nobody paid much attention to me, didn't offer me a table, say hello, nothing. Wierd. I continued to walk down towards the ocean thinking I could at least sit down and enjoy the view. No tables or chairs. So I head off the grounds to claim my spot on the empty beach. After realizing its too hot to simply sit on the beach and read, I continue down the beach towards a small fishing village. Nothing exciting, just a few fisherman sitting on the beach waiting for the tide to come is so that they can go out.

Heading back to the restaurant, I notice a man standing on the bluff watching me. As I get closer, he starts yelling and waving his arms. I'm in trouble. The yelling gets louder, the arm motions more frantic. I look at him puzzled and confused, he in turn just gets louder. I catch a glimpse of the man's t-shirt, SECURITY, is plastered across the back of his crisp, black shirt. Great! I'm getting kicked out of a place that doesn't even appear to be functioning. After the yelling subsides, I figure out that he was saying something about rocks, my feet, and a prickly bush. Maybe he was concerned for the safety of my feet.

I follow him back tot he restaurant, through the grounds, the seating area, and the kitchen, and eventually back to where I've parked my bike. There's another man sitting at a small table guarding the single van and my bike (this is customary in SE Asia. Instead of locking your bike, you pay a man to watch it for you). He pulls out an extra chair and motions for me to sit. From under the table, he whips out a huge bottle of what appears to be thick, brown, murky moonshine and offers me a swig. I graciously decline and decide its time to be on my way. What was that all about?!?

Well, I never did make it to the top of Monkey Mountain, but the ride back down was fun! I even stopped to take a few photos for everyone back at home.