On the first night when we flew to HCM, we passed an old school cargo plane with a T-tail and Cyrillic text on the side. "Volga Dn-e-pr," I slowly sounded out using the remains of my four years of Russian classes, while SB gave me an impromptu lesson on the Ilyusian IL-76TD-90VD and a brief history of the not so illustrious Russian aviation industry. We saw that Ilyusian on our way to Da Nang and it was as interesting as I remembered. I forgot to get a better picture during daylight.
The flight to Da Nang (not in a Russian plane) took slightly over an hour. The weather was noticeably different and we were all ready for balmy temperatures and ocean breezes. SB sat in the front and enjoyed the driver's selection of 1980's pop music, singing along happily while the rest of us marveled at the delightful change in climate. Our guest house is located on an island in the Thu Bon river, and within a five minute walk from the UNESCO World Heritage old town. There were five bicycles at the guest house so smallest nephew hopped onto the back of SB's and everyone else pedaled to town while I was happy to walk to lunch. As SB led the group further and further away, I became less enamored with being a biped, and by the time I caught up with them well into town, I was noticeably hangry (hungry/angry). A plate of bánh xèo and a bottle of beer provided an instant cure.
After lunch we split up with the boys leaving to bike around the river while the girls set out on a mission to buy a dress for the niece's graduation. Hội An is famous for its tailoring industry almost as much as its gorgeous historical town, and we were almost overwhelmed with the abundance of choices. We found a tailor with samples that seemed to be well sewn and sat down to create the dress.
The neice has an eye for classic and clean cuts. She looked over box pleats, gathered waists, and flared skirts before choosing an A-line silhouette. It was harder to pick the top because there were so many beautiful options but she decided on a jewel neckline. The fabric will be a linen-silk blend, which will not wrinkle like pure linen but will maintain temperature like pure linen. One of my interesting quirks is that I have an ability to scent silk and if I walk into a room, I will know who is wearing a silk sweater. The shop's fabric sample passed my sniff test; it was the real deal. SB would be pleased to hear that the niece has a keen sense for the "hand" of fabric. She has clear preferences for the feel of fabrics similar to Uncle SB. The shop worker sat down with her and discussed the characteristics of her linen and how it would drape and hold structure. They went over how they thought the fabric should fit and where they wanted the seams. Niece wanted the top lined in the same linen/silk because while the skirt would have a cotton lining. It was enjoyable watching her and thinking about how much she's grown into a pre-teen.
I don't know how many more of these trips we will take together before the children grow up and have other activities to occupy their free time. I especially like watching the youngest two travelers because they interesting contradictions; they are by far the pickiest eaters but are also the most comfortable with approaching new experiences. Having lived in five countries by the time I was ten, mimicry and integration are second nature to me and I appreciate these children having never left the US until two years ago, being so open to newness and foreignness.
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