After breakfast, we formulated a cunning plan. We would visit the pagoda and the champa temple (this one still in use), and then try to find the Whale Island office after lunch, to let them know where we were staying so we could be transported to the island. On the way we saw this fabulous laughing Buddha – unfortunately they didn’t have a smaller scale model inside.
The caged bird sang prettily, though an identical bird, in an identical tiny cage just flitted from side to side like his mind was fractured by prolonged confinement.
This is the 10 armed manifestation of somebody in the form of somebody else. Guidebook is not handy, but I will look up the reference. We were met at the gates of the pagoda by some very pretty young women who informed us that they were orphans, and that the monks allow them to live at the pagoda and go to school – but that they need money to go to school, and would we please buy postcards or silk paintings from them. The postcards cost us 100,000D – a shade under $10 – we declined to buy two sets.
The reclining buddha – finished only a few years ago. The steps up to the buddha on the top of the hill were populated by beggars – old women, young children, and one girl of about 15 who carried her crippled (and not much smaller) brother with her. By the time we had climbed to the top and bought water, we had spent about $20 – despite there being no “entrance fee” to the pagoda. On the way down, the Lonely Planet recommends exploring around the left hand side of the main temple – we found a man who was happy to show us around through the closed gates, and recommended the best angles to photograph the sights from. He also pointed out the tomb of a female monk, who was either born in, or died in 1953.
Next to the champa temple. This is the first intact Linga (symbolising the male) that we had seen. Splendid.
Some ladies eating lunch, while a young demolition worker has a rest between bouts of destruction.
All without a net.
The view from the top down to the entrance “hall”.
Shiva above a doorway.
Three of the four or so small temples.
More splendid revolutionary art.
After a very pleasant cocktail at the Nha Trang Sailing Club, on a terrace on the beach, we tried to get vegetarian food in two restaurants for dinner, but weren’t thrilled at the prospect of “stir fried legume”. In desperation we ended up in Nha Trangs only “genuine indian”. I imagine that their genuine Indian is the chef, as the food was pretty good – and the gin and tonic was rather splendid. Early to bed for an 8am pick up to go to Whale Island.
Disco Knitter 