Let's Go Surfing Now

Mui Ne, Vietnam, 8/1/11 - 8/2/11

I know we want to see the sunrise, but the motorbike guide driving in front of me has a death wish. Going 70MPH in the pitch dark through curvy dirt roads at 4AM is fanatical. I struggle to follow. But mostly to stay alive. I distract myself from the death ride by signing out loudly. Favorites include "I Will Survive." The final section of the ride is like navigating through a minefield of large boulders. But for my guide, it might as well be on the Autobahn.

Despite its beautiful beaches, Mui Ne's main attractions are its large sand dunes, which have earned the town the nickname of "The Sahara of Vietnam." As with Mui Ne's ostrich rides, the sand dunes seem completely out of place for a small fishing village come resort town on the South China Sea. The drive to the dunes is wonderfully scenic, bordering the sea the entire time.

The first night I go to the Red Dunes, twenty minutes outside of town, to watch the sunset. The second the rust-colored dunes are within my sights, a team of young Vietnamese children rushes out into the streets, stopping my bike. In the small community that lives adjacent to the dunes, adult shopkeepers compete over selling refreshments and snacks while the kids vie for tourguide opportunities. As it's a quiet day, I am joined by five young guides, none of whom can be over eight years of age. The rent me a sand surf board, which is essentially a large flimsy sky blue plastic place mat with a few thick ropes tied to the front for handles. Posse in tow, we begin the climb the dunes, whose sand is surprisingly cool despite guide book warnings. We spend hours sand surfing, with my guides instructing me on perfect form and leading me to the tallest dunes. Typically two kids will stand directly in front of my surf board and pull me off the dune's edge, falling to the side at the last minute, while another two kids will stand behind pushing me down. The fifth will typically stand there and ask for tips. The surf down isn't fast, but it's still a major adrenaline rush. Especially as the sun sets over the dunes and transforms the sky into a lush watercolor painting. In addition to the obvious endorphin rush, the experience is analogous to bathing in sand. After the just two runs, my entire body is drenched in thick red sand that is simply not coming off. A sand facial as some have called it. Good news, however, is that I look dramatically tanner. My guides are lunatics -- sprinting through the sand, performing somersaults down the dunes, complaining about girlfriends despite not yet reaching double-digits, and relentlessly haggling for more tips. Due to the onslaught of sand, my camera lens is barely opening: Reason #847 I should've bought a shockproof, dirt-proof, waterproof camera.

Mui Ne's White Dunes are even more impressive: A sprawling array of light beige dunes surrounded by lakes filled with magenta desert roses. Its a confusing hourlong motorbike trip to get there, so I'm lucky Avital, an Israeli at my hostel who looks like a librarian, has chartered a motorbike to take her there for sunrise. I follow along in the pitch dark, slightly slower at 60MPH, trying not to fall. We reach the White Dunes just as the sun is rising. We basically have the dunes to ourselves apart from a couple taking wedding photos at one summit and a few others riding ATVs. Wedding pictures set in the rising sun over vacant white sand dunes in Southern coastal Vietnam? How cliche.

Mui Ne sand dune wedding

Avital and I sit atop one of the dunes and watch the glowing yellow orb rise and paint the empty white canvases in a golden light. When the sun rises, we spend the morning sledding and surfing down the peaks. It's an adrenaline rush far superior coffee. As this is my second day, I even try standing sand surfing, which involves leaning back and inverting half the board upwards. As with all my experiences surfing (sand or water), I fall repeatedly and display absolutely no sense of balance or coordination. However, I do manage to stay up on the board for five seconds prior to falling. Accomplishment?

On our way back to Mui Ne, we pause briefly due to a traffic jam as a farmer takes all of his cattle for a short trip uptown. At this hour, the dozens of cattle he herds likely outnumbers the vehicles on the street.

Vietnamese traffic

Our final stop of the day is at Mui Ne's Red Canyon, a shallow creek of striking reddish-orange bluffs. As with the town's Fairy Stream, Red Canyon is composed of soft clay and sandstone and Avital and I leave our mark by carving our names into the rock.

Covered in red and white sand, ostrich cooties, belly full of roasted duck, I board a 8am bus and head to Saigon. As we leave the area, we pass by Phan Thiet's many dragonfruit plantations, which look slightly like spiked aloe vera plants, with a touch of Weeping Willow, Dr. Seuss and Avatar. I think dragonfruit is only mildly appealing, almost like a bland melon, but the thrilling appearance of the plants and the fruit itself certainly promise a much more exciting taste.

Some sand surfing songs, via Sting and the Police: