This episode contributed by Ant
Never in the history of this blog have so many people complained about the heat for so long, my god it's hot in Phu Quoc!
But I'm jumping ahead of myself. Safely deposited at Ho Chi Minh City airport after our drive from the Mekong, we find that we have five hours to spare before our flight! It took the three of us only one second to agree to try and get an earlier flight at $80 each, but it was worth every dong. This resulted in us running through the airport, I think taxi to plane in less than 25 minutes and we were off. 40 minutes later, the turquoise seas, golden beaches, and green forests of Phu Quoc came into view and we'd left the muddy Mekong behind.
Then the heat hit us! Five nights and five days of unrelenting heat. We would sweat more than our body weights by breakfast! How do people live here? It's the build up the monsoon and by far the hottest time of the year. The heat has clearly kept travellers away, the beach is very empty, restaurants and bars deserted, in fact the lack of other travellers is a bonus that is almost worth paying for.
Accommodation, was at the pleasant, simple but very dated beachside Seastar Resort, small rustic bungalows, but on a positive note it was fortunately situated on the shadiest and prettiest part of Long Beach. The Gulf of Thailand lapping gently at the shore a few metres away. David and I couldn't wait to get into the sea to cool off, so after a record quick change, some "walking on a hot tin roof" manoeuvres across the red hot sand, we finally plunge into the......... oh damn it's hot, sea!
We spent five nights in Phu Quoc in total, which was enough. Lazy days, which with the benefit of hindsight, focused more on hunting out good food spots than playing volleyball on the beach. Mornings were spent looking for good coffees for breakfast - the Embassy and Alanis Cafe won this battle, German bakery had best food. Vietnamese coffee is muddy, sweet and served with condensed milk so you can understand our search...
Lunches were always beachside at the Spice Market restaurant at the Cassia Cottage. Dinners varied widely. Night one was a post Mekong splurge, The Pepper Tree at La Verandah, high brow, expensive, slightly lacking in authenticity and definitely lacking in germs. (Hooray say David and Gill). We sampled a few tapas places to give us respite from rice. Itaca was fantastic, groovy cool Ibiza vibe, wagyu beef burgers, Mondo - more mundane and a lot less exciting. Mystic turned out the best noodles by far, accompanied as so often on this trip, and so very welcome by fiery red chilis, that left us crying, lovely! Noodles cooked in a wok by a man on the street, best noodles ever and Ozzie Rose wine to boot -a winning combo. We planned a last night revisit, but got waylaid by the happy hour cocktails at La Veranda and ended up eating on the beach, which was no hardship at all.
We ventured away from shade occasionally, for example, we went into Duong Dong town a few times. The first time, like idiots, we walked and ended up soaked with sweat after the 30 minute schlep, making a 40p taxi ride seem worth every penny. Buddy's ice cream bar proved the only appealing watering hole in the whole town which is dominated by the fishing industry. The night market selling fake pearls and live fish didn't appeal at all.
David and I did an early evening beach walk once! Ant and David did of course swim every day, even a hot sea was welcome relief! As we were on the west coast sunsets were pretty special too, and given Vietnam's geography the only place in Vietnam where you can enjoy them at a beach. The beams of the setting sun giving way to the fluorescent green and white squid boats that fished just offshore.
We taxied to Sao Beach, considered the most beautiful beach in Vietnam, spent a few lazy hours hiding in the shade, emerging just long enough to take a dip and get slight sun burn. The beach really was special, clear turquoise water and white powder squeaky sand, a mind's eye perfect beach.
Best trip ever though was to Fish sauce factory, the heat and rotting anchovies made this a very special place. Caught every night, and then left to ferment for a year in 3000-gallon wooden vats. As you would expect, all these fermenting anchovies create one hell of an odour. Allman wrote: “As I entered the factory, the smell hit me like a door being slammed in my face. It took my breath away.” Needless to say, she said the little thimble of nuoc mam she was offered to taste-test tasted divine, but unfortunately airline policies prevented her from taking any of it home with her." That’s still the rule, so we left empty handed but committed to only ever buying Phu Quoc fish sauce in London.
This really is a one town island, with only one scruffy road. It also appears to be undergoing a major revamp, as ten year old buildings are being demolished everywhere and replaced by gargantuan hotels to cater for Russian charter flights to the new airport. Suspect, we've seen it just after its peak and it will now slide down the Phuket slide to mass tourism. Bye bye Phu Quoc it was a pleasure to know you.
