This young woman, a participant in Oodles of Noodles, a program for at-risk kids, took us food shopping at a market frequented by more Vietnamese than tourists.
Everything about the "real" Hội An, outside the Old Quarter, interested me more.
Most locals shop for fresh ingredients daily.
Oddly shaped apples.
Goose and chicken eggs.
These women couldn't be bothered with us.
Little did we know we'd soon be making our own rice pancakes.
The former street kids at Oodles of Noodles cheerfully taught us how.
They also served us a delicious lunch.
I made a deal with Thom. We'd visit of three of five attractions on the ticket Thien had given us before heading back to the hotel pool. First up was the Japanese Bridge, the city's symbol.
A shop nearby sold root carvings.
Ancient tiled roofs could be seen from a second-floor window.
The almost surreal Cantonese Assembly Hall didn't disappoint.
We couldn't avoid the Old Quarter on the walk back to the hotel. Fortunately, the Sunday crowds had thinned considerably, making it much more pleasant.
Look how happy Thom made these Gingko saleswomen when he dropped several million dong on a couple of chic backpacks.
They giggled when I asked them the significance of a t-shirt I bought for Joe.
Turns out it's about how good it feels to indulge in a native custom: washing your butt with this bathroom spray device. Thom promptly flooded the bathroom when he tried it out back at the hotel.
Sitting guiltlessly by the pool felt pretty good, too. We had another full day to see our remaining two attractions.
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