For relaxing times, Quy Nhon has a story to tell

If ever there was an escape from the heat and the dust of Hanoi, the noise and the crowds of Saigon, this is surely it. Tucked away between Danang and Nha Trang, Quy Nhon is a quiet municipality that had to wait until 1898 to be recognised as city despite its rich Cham kingdom history.

Sixteen kilometres from the airport, where cars have forgotten how to use their horns, lies Lang Mai Bay with its semicircular coastline. This tranquil bay is home to Quy Nhon Life Resort, a great hideaway destination for swimming, kayaking, hiking and diving for the restless, and yoga, meditation, tai chi and massage therapies and more for the stressed out.

Set on a hill, nestled in a tranquil garden of bougainvillea and thick tropical vegetation the resort is rich in natural abundance with a slightly
native vibe. Life’s philosophy is simple: stay in tune with the natural environment and relax. Modeled after a blend of Western and Eastern wellness influences, the resort provides a great spa menu with some interesting variations for spa lovers: Cham inspired baths, wonderful four to six-handed Vietnamese massages, and refreshing scrubs that can be combined with hot volcanic stone massage.

I arrived at Quy Nhon airport, my head still full of appointments, meetings, things to do and tasks that I should not forget. My synapses were ringing with all the cacophony of a rush hour street. Once I settled into the air-conditioned minibus, however, I realised that the driver had refrained from using the horn for a full seven minutes, an inconceivable oversight elsewhere in the country! I sat back and let the relative quiet wash over me as I watched the rice fields flashing by.

A few kilometers down the road, near the ancient Cham capital of Cha Ban, I looked across the hillside to the ruins of the old capital, with their pink colour and Angkor-like silhouette, while joyful kids on top of buffaloes waved at me from the other side of the road. Images such as this one are the priceless pleasures of a journey through Vietnam. I felt myself letting go of the pressure of a busy schedule. Something rare, something precious. Travel here reveals another Vietnam, where peace of mind supersedes material achievements. As the journey drew to an end, we drove through the hills on the border of the coastline with a final snaking ride down to the porch of the Life Resort.

The arched facade is a picture postcard: a perfect composition opening on to a shallow water pool with a linga reinforcing the Cham spirit of the place. As my host took me through the paved alley preceding my room, I breathed in the cool, fresh air, scented by yellow hibiscus and frangipani trees planted to imbue the atmosphere with a holiday vibe. The resort itself curved along a hillside that affords spectacular views of the Bai Dai Beach.

The southern part of the bay is also home to a small village, hosting fishermen’s families and temples which are dedicated to the goddess of the sea, once cherished by poet Han Mac Tu. What struck me most when I arrived at the Quy Nhon resort, however, was not the sea, but the quietness, serenity, and the light which are elusive qualities in this nation of more than 80 million peoplewhere you can hardly find a piece of quiet land.

Even in the most remote places of Vietnam there is usually still someone peering out from behind a tree. To some, the resort and spa, with their red-tiled walls and natural stone alleys, look warm but almost incomplete. The architect who conceived this project has developed a design that is characteristic of the Cham culture, most famous for their stupas and their style of brickwork.

Everything about the resort extends a gentle invitation to relax, unwind and let a sense of serenity infuse you. Buckets of pencils and water-colours adorn the terrace overlooking Bai Dai Beach, encouraging you to reveal your artistic talents. Should you prefer more physical pursuits, why not join one of the yoga classes, held in an open pavilion with gorgeous sea views. My quarters – a deluxe room - included a large, neat bedroom, full of light and decorated with soft, muted fabrics, terracotta pottery, a dark wood canopy, a carmine sofa and a Cham-style sandstone bust.

It had a huge window with a gorgeous view of the sea and the Hon Dat Island. The ensuite bathroom opened out to the ocean giving an impression of infinity. From the balcony, the only reminder of civilization was the silhouette of a sunshade sending an invitation for a future afternoon nap.

Yellow butterflies fluttered in the air like tiny Tinkerbells. At lunch on a terracotta terrace facing the sea under the shade of a filao tree, I enjoyed a grilled mackerel salad and sea bass in banana leaf (see the Spa Menu Recipe on page 119 of this edition of E&W) accompanied by a salad of greens with roasted vegetables from a nearby Quy Nhon market and herbal garden. All served with amazingly friendly smiles. For a frantic case like myself, whose agitated mind is constantly thinking of other things I should be doing, Life provided a respite, as it also appeared to for the couples and the solitary man who were enjoying its simple pleasures while I was there.

It has many beautiful spots to discover, like the pool embedded in the rocks where couples relaxed after spa treatment. My most memorable experiences, though, were in the hands of the therapists. Before going to the good hands, I underwent the Japanese dry sand and salt sauna therapy. My body was totally covered by Miss Tra who literally buried me under a 20cm layer of hot, dry salt and sand up to my neck.

Feeling the hot sand and salt being poured over my body was something extreme and very unusual. Under my new carapace I could hear my pulse beating, while the warm winds were singing and the eucalyptus dancing, filling me with an elevating feeling of relaxation. Once the ritual was over, I moved to the outdoor rain shower, halfway back to reality from my holy sand experience. After the power of sand, salt and waters I was fully prepared for a journey into the spa bower of bliss.

On this late afternoon, the sun was already beginning to set behind fleecy clouds, tainted with hues of purple, pink and gold reflecting in the sea. I was escorted by Miss Tra and Miss Phuong to one of the five bungalows overlooking the sea and laid on a massage table. After the exfoliating effect of the sand sauna, I released myself to the structured, methodical ministrations of a full-body, four-hand massage.

Designed to instill inner balance and well-being throughout the 50-minute massage (US$40), my pair of therapists regularly dispensed an aromatic stream of herbal oil with rhythmic and deep massage both hypnotizing and relaxing. By the time the treatment came to its soothing end, I had drifted off into a peaceful sleep. Four-hand massage is truly something magic for the body and soul, and so are the stories that Quy Nhon has to tell.

By Christelle Thomas ,East & West, photo by Mc Masterchef under a Creative Commons license.

Spread the Word

del.icio.us Digg Reddit Netscape StumbleUpon