March 18, Quy Nhon -> Hoi An : While in Quy Nhon, I pulled a vietnamese on the Viets and invited them to drink on my round. Thank you phrasebook! In addition to making fun at the expense of the unmarried daughter, there seem be a running joke everywhere in the country where I am the subject of the joke. It's about my nose. Need to study Vietnamese further and figure it out. Arrive in Hoi An, which is incredibly romantic, in the western-sense. The city is composed of 500 tailors, 500 shoe makers, and 500 huppé restaurants. It's low season, the waitresses look desperate for company.

March 19, Hoi An -> Dong Hoi : Stop in Hué for an authentic meal cooked in the middle of the market for the staff of the booths, and it tastes just like home (Hi Cou~'ng!). I buy flowers for two of the unmarried daughters I meet. Hoi An must have rubbed off. Arrive in Dong Hoi and share diner (and beer) with the Vietnamese director of plan-international.org. Afterward, the local choral lets go and I find myself swamped amongst schoolgirls again.

March 20, Dong Hoi -> Do Luong : With 85 million people in such a small land, there is hardly any space between the villages. Riding along the highway is a long sequence of Victoriavilles stringed together like pearls on a necklace. I veer West towards the mountains but the moment the driving was turning sporty it starts to rain. Booo. The locals make fun of my drenchedness over cheerful mugs of Bia Hoi Ha Noi.

Only 300 kilometers left to reach Hanoi.