It seems that only yesterday Christmas was still somewhere in the future, to be dealt with at another time. Yet, I woke early this morning and here it was, the usual bleak Christmas sky that seems to accompany any public holiday.
Stumbling from my bed I forewent my usual coffee and hit the road north to treat myself to the best that the coast has to offer. You guessed it…. I am sat in my car with the rain pouring down, by the Noosa River. In front of me is Jetty 17 and of course Old Salt Coffee.
I arrived before the crowd and enjoyed a large Flat White while chatting with Rhian as she busied herself getting ready for the rush. At around seven a friend of Rhian’s, Rhianna, arrived to help out with taking orders and dealing with the cash drawer. Just in time as the punters started to roll in shortly after.
Today is the first birthday of Old Salt here on the river, Rhian having opened for trade Christmas Day last year, so it is Happy Birthday and Congratulations on a year well spent satisfying the cravings of an addicted following of loyal subjects. I heard a rumour that Old Salty is getting a name today, but more on that later if the rumour is true.
Despite the morning showers, there were plenty of folk out walking either themselves or their dogs with a goodly number stopping off for a morning cuppa. A few arrived by car voicing their gratitude that they had found a coffee shop open on this holiday of holidays. I watched a salubrious Ford Mustang cruise by only to return a short while later having found what he was after……. coffee!!
Right now, it seems that the weather has closed in and rain is falling steadily. This appears to have had little effect on those seeking to appease their addiction, sheltering as they wait under the scant eves and sail cloth that is not totally water proof
Behind Old Salt Coffee, Jetty 17 has opened for business and already several vessels have been hired by folk wishing a day on the river. Of all the holiday destinations in the world, Noosa has plenty to offer, from the surf beaches, national park walks and of course this beautiful river.
Ode To Old Salt Coffee
(To the rythme of Camp Grenada)
Christmas morning, outta coffee
take a ride in my jalopy
Heading north to Noosa River
Where I’ll find a way to cleanse my dirty liver
When I get there…., coffees brewing
It is fresh and…. there is no stewing
No better way to…. ease the liver
Than a cup of Old Salt Coffee by the river
Now the sun’s not…. hit the river
The light showers….. make me shiver
Folks out walking… in the morning
The best part of day is shortly after dawning
The crowds want to….ease their addiction
They are coming….. from all directions
Help is needed… Queue gets longer
Even tho the rain is falling even stronger.
Wait a minute…., it’s stopped raining,
Guys are swimming…., guys are sailing
If you’r doing…. nothing better
Come on down and get your coffee by the river
I have to admit that I do like my coffee. I am one of those that can drink it right before bed and still get a great nights sleep. Because of this, I have come to be just a little bit discerning about how my coffee is made. Although at a pinch, I can handle an instant, I do prefer a good roast ground to perfection and served with flare.
My recent trip to Vietnam had me raving about the coffee that is served there. Brewed at the table in a little stainless filter dripping slowly over a layer of condensed milk is about as good as it gets. I am still trying to replicate the flavor now that I am back home but feel I still have something missing. I will persevere…..
One of the downsides to gaining a better appreciation of a good coffee is that once you find a standout brew, the rest never really seem to hit the mark. If that barista is a distance away then getting a regular fix becomes a mission.
This is my current situation… While I would enjoy a brew while sitting with a paper on a Sunday morning as the sun reaches higher into the sky, it now involves a 30-kilometre drive to Noosa where Old Salt Coffee dispenses a top brew from Pier 17 on Gympie Terrace. Now lately Rhian, who brews this treat, has been extolling the temptations of an Iced Latte and so I thought it might be worth asking if she might perhaps deliver…
No luck I’m afraid, although Rhian did suggest that I had the best of both worlds because I buy my Old Salt beans from her and have them available whenever I fancy a cup. It left me to thinking about how I do appreciate a good brew and that Old Salt Coffee is just that…. It’s a great blend…. Then, as often is the case when I get to thinking, the mind rhythms got going and the words started flowing. I felt her comment about having beans at home deserved a response. This is how the conversation went…
After a pleasant nights’ sleep at the Hong Han Hotel, I woke fresh and hungry. One floor down I could smell the delicious flavours of freshly cooked food along with the rich aroma of freshly brewed coffee. I may have mentioned, that in a short few days, the particular kind of coffee made in Vietnam had become a firm favourite.
After packing my meagre belongings I wandered down one flight of stairs to the first floor where breakfast was being served on the small balcony overlooking the street. It was the usual fare, to which I had quickly become accustomed, with tasty bread rolls and a selection of fruit and various cooked offerings. My favourite was a kind of a cross between an omelette and scrambled egg, all washed down with a coffee.
I chatted with some of the guests who were visiting from all corners of the world, and spent a lazy half hour just soaking up the atmosphere. Seeking out mine host, Kim, I sought some advice as to where I needed to meet the bus that would take me south to Vung Tau that afternoon. We agreed that, although it was a short walk, it was probably best if I take a cab, given my proven ability to get lost. As usual, Kim sorted out the arrangements and I rebooked my room for when I returned after the weekend.
The cab duly arrived and, saying farewell to Kim, I took the short ride to the bus station. In the event, I could possibly have walked faster as the cab had to negotiate traffic and took a somewhat circuitous route, however, I arrived in good time and settled down to wait for the thirteen seater bus.
After a slow start through traffic, we finally found a freeway that took us pretty well all the way to Vung Tau, about two hours to the south. We stopped for a break around the halfway point, but other than that we made good time. Once we arrived in Vung Tau, the driver crisscrossed back and forth across the city, delivering each passenger to their door. I was the last to get off and easily found the address where my friend Alex lived.
Alex was a colleague of mine who had made the move to Vietnam to retire, and this was a great chance to catch up with him and his lovely wife Chi again. Their home was spacious and cool and I was quickly made to feel at home. Along with Alex and Chi, the family composed Chi’s mother and daughter, Nho.
Friday night and it was Alex’s habit to relax a little at a local sports bar called Lucy’s. This proved to be the watering hole of a fair number of Xpats from Australia, and along with the usual banter, the big screen televisions ensured that conversation was loud.
The following day, Alex took me to see some of the highlights of Vung Tau. This involved going two up on his motor scooter and dashing around the streets between all of the other scooters, each setting their own wild course. Always an exhilerating way to travel.
We visited the markets where, as in most markets I visited in Vietnam, there was row apon row of produce of every kind. All kinds of meats and veges were displayed. By now, I was well accustommed to the lack of refrigeration and had come to accept that, while it is the custom of where I have lived, this is everyday life in Vietnam. It speaks to the precious way that Western Society has come to live and in doing so has lost much of its resilience to bugs and disease.
Vung Tau is set on a peninsula and has two fairly distinct areas. On the East is the main beach where folk from Saigon come to spend a lazy weekend. The western side is on a sheltered harbour and appeared to be more the realm of the locals.
Between these two areas,lies a steep hill, up which the little scooter laboured under our combined weight. Through the trees we caught glimpes of the sea and further over on a ridge, stood a large statue of Jesus, arms raise as if blessing those who passed by in the sea below.
At the top we came to a lighthouse where it seemed many folk came to simply pass the time away.
A group of men sat playing a board game while groups of young folk gathered here and there playing instuments or taking selfies
Heading back along the coast road, we stopped in at the local supermarket. Alex drove down a narrow ramp and we came to an undrground carpark much like those back home in Australia. This one however, only parked motor cycles…. Not a car to be seen and in fact, the entrance was so narrow a car could not fit in.
Back at Alex’s, Chi had prepared a lovely Vietnamese meal, after which we went off to take a siesta. I was soon awakened by Alex rushing urgently past my door and I emerged to find the top floor awash with water. The rain was falling in a volume I had not witnessed before and it was all hands on deck to keep the water from entering the bedrooms. In that we only partially succeeded but almost as suddenly as it began, the rain stopped and we were able to quickly swish away the mess.
Outside the town had faired little better with water rising almost waist deep across the street. I was bemused that most folk bearly gave it a second though and went about their business in the usual way. It was only those affected by the inundation that took time out to clean up, along with a few neighbours who pitched in to lend a hand.
Apart from a few inconsiderate cab drivers who swished past at such a speed their bow wave sent a cascade of water back into the shops, it was smiles all around with neighbour helping neighbour (and me just taking photos to record the moment)
That evening Alex and I spent a couple of hours at Lucy’s watching the rugby before adjourning across the road to the wharf where there was a huge resturant set up. Food was great, as was the company and soon we were racing home on the scooters for a good nights rest.
The next morning Alex took me on another tour, up another steep road, to where there was a military base. As we neared the top of the road we came apon a small settlement. Here tourists had stopped to interact with the monkeys that abounded here. As usual, it was necessary to take care as they were quite bold and likely to snatch away anything that may have taken their fancy.
Onwards and upwards, we came to the end of the road where, in a makeshift building, families were having a meal or simply hanging out enjoying each others company. Children were rushing about, as they do, entertaining themselves with simple games.
We sampled a local drink that was made onsite. It was the sweet juice from crushing sugar cane and while very sweet was quite nice and refreshing.
Alex told me that he walked that road daily for execise when he first arrived in Vung Tau which was quite impressive in the steamy heat.
Quân Đội Dân Việt Nam translates to Vietnam Peoples Army
Heading back down we met up with Chi and went to an upmarket restaurant along the coast for breakfast. Again food here was great and the views provided a panorama of activity that kept me thoroghly entertained. I was taken by a fisheman who was tending his lines, all the while rowing his boat with his feet.
The water way was busy and there were craft of all kinds plying back and forth with those in tiny vessels taking their chance between the much larger hulls. Barges, full to the gunnels slipped passed, almost as if praying no wave would come along for fear of being swamped.
The restaurant was on some acreage with the paths and gardens beautifully kept. It was pleasant to end the meal with a stroll along the paths before heading back into town.
The rest of the day was spent in pleasant company and all too soon I had to prepare for my return to Saigon. This time I was taking the River Cat, which is a fast ferry service connecting Vung Tau with Saigon and taking a little over two hours.
The trip across the bay was a little rough but that soon settled as we entered the river. I watched the passing scene with interest as we cruised along. The river banks were largely covered in dense jungle and often there were large floating islands of vegetation to navigate past.
As the sun set we came into sight of Saigon with its towering bridges and the buildings beginning to dress up in their evening refinery as lights came on across the city
With my pack on my shoulders I wandered once again through the darkening streets of Saigon. I was headed for my room at the Hong Han. Walking up the Nguyen Hue, I marvelled at the light show that the buildings put on and the peacefulness of this city filled, as it is, with so many souls. I had just one more day to spend in this city and I reflected on the people I had met and how, in such a short time they had touched my life in such a rich way.