Grandeur, Stillness, and the Road South

Vietnam Diaries -3

From Imperial Silence to Coastal Roads: Hue to Hoi An

Photo: Culture Pham travel

We had learned the hard way how to schedule our sight-seeing in hot and humid Hue. So, we took a Grab (a local ride-hailing service) early next morning and off we went to see the tomb of Emperor Khai Dinh, another major UNESCO-listed monument in the Complex of Hue Monuments.

History says that Emperor Khai Dinh, the twelfth ruler of Vietnam’s Nguyen Dynasty, was closely allied with the French colonial administration and greatly fascinated by European culture. So much so, that he was mocked as “a salaried employee of the French Government”,* and he had himself ordered the building of his Tomb, officially named Ung Mausoleum.

Located on Chau Chu Mountain just outside Hue, the structure is unique among the royal mausoleums in Vietnam because of the blend of traditional Vietnamese design and European architectural impact. It was completed after 11 years during the time of his son and successor, Emperor Bao Dai.

Concrete, steel, iron, slate, were imported from France, China, and Japan to build this symbol of permanence and power. The imposing structure looks majestic, standing tall, alone in the green hills.

You climb up the stone steps through the main Tam Quan gate to reach a courtyard which has stone statues of mandarins (reminding me vaguely of the terracotta army), elephants, horses stationed in double rows. The belief was that these statues guarded the emperor’s spirit.

At the center stands an octagonal Stele Pavilion, distinct with its reinforced concrete construction and Western-style arches. The large stone stele is inscribed with about 950 Chinese characters praising the emperor’s life and achievements.

Yet the Thien Dinh Palace, the main hall containing the emperor’s tomb is the most impressive part of the complex. Lavish mosaics made from porcelain and coloured glass fragments, decorate it. Dragons, flowers, landscapes, and symbolic motifs blending Eastern and Western artistic styles adorn the walls and ceilings. You cannot miss Nine Dragons Hidden in the Clouds, a mural painted on the ceiling by artist Phan Van Chanh.

Legend has it that Emperor Khai Dinh visited the construction site and caught the artist lying on his back, painting with his feet. Naturally, the Emperor flew into a rage. However, the artist explained that the high ceiling required it; painting with his feet maintained a perfect perspective, whereas using his hands kept his eyes too close to see the full panorama. Fortunately, it resulted in a happy ending. Impressed by the final masterpiece, the emperor rewarded him with a generous royal bonus.

As you go inside the ‘palace’, you first go into the altar room which has a central portrait photograph of Emperor Khai Dinh. The golden horizontal board above features Chinese characters identifying the section.

The two large bronze cranes standing on turtles are the traditional Vietnamese symbol of longevity, harmony and endurance. Visitors pay their respects there.

Further inside is the Throne room where you see the life-sized bronze statue of Emperor Khai Dịnh seated on a dragon pedestal under a massive, richly decorated concrete canopy. The statue was cast in France and gilded in Vietnam.

Beneath the statue, about nine meters underground, lies the emperor’s actual burial chamber. Influenced by western customs, Khai Dinh broke the tradition of the Nguyen emperors, and allowed the location of his tomb to be publicly known.

The tomb was built at a tremendous cost, and with clearly noticeable foreign influence, and yet, it remains a proof of a distinct fusion of cultures and artistic details.

Incense burners on display: The left one was a gift to the emperor on his 40th birthday from the bronze casting village of Hanoi.

For visitors, however, the main challenge is the stone steps, 127 in all, on several levels (see top photo) —  a real fitness test for joints. Mani gave up midway. Sadly, like most monuments, this too is not disability-friendly.

The image which stayed with me of Hue was something between grandeur and stillness, the atmosphere.

Signboard on the right of the palace

The city is slower with an old-world gentleness about it. Locals go about their work, unmindful of the weather; foreigners emerge in the evening, seen sitting on low stools, sipping beer or colourful local drinks, and chatting. It does not feel like the city is making any effort to impress. 

Refreshed and with our stomachs happy, a couple of hours later, we sat in a taxi to take us to our next destination, Hoi An. We chose to give Da Nang’s famous touristy, big-town feel a miss and head instead to Hoi An, hoping for something slower and more atmospheric.

People ride scooters along the scenic Hue–Hoi An route. Mani would have loved a thundering 350 CC motorcycle, but fortunately for me, there were three of us, we had luggage, and the weather was not right for steaming our heads inside helmets all those 120 km. The nearly four-hour drive respected our bodies’ need for a little rest, while still letting us enjoy the changing scenery on the road.

But only recently, I came to know that one can also take an old-style open-top jeep, stopping at all the major sights along the way. This way, the drive would take longer, though.

For those among you who think I am great at remembering everything during travel, here is an admission. The air-conditioned comfort of the car dulled my sense of observation and I did rather poorly at remembering what we had seen. The driver too was quiet all along, only once in a while pointing out something during the journey.

My lethargic brain was blurring images from A Tourist’ Guide to Love (shot in Vietnam, starring Rachael Leigh Cook and Sinh Thach) with the reality outside the car windows.

The scenes rolled before my eyes as the vehicle whirred on the quiet, wide, double-laned road. The city gave way to quaint fishing villages, terraced rice fields, wavy mountain roads among lush green, the dark Hai Van tunnel, a train track going along for a large stretch, the deep azure blue of the South China Sea waters, golden sands on the sun-heated beach along the sides of the road.

Along the way are An Bang Cemetery, Elephant Springs, Marble Mountain, Hai Van Pass, but we did not stop anywhere except for a bathroom and coffee break.

Our driver favoured a restaurant near the Lap An Lagoon, suddenly turning into an enthusiastic guide, to share that besides several types of fish, pearl-oysters are cultivated in the waters. The shop next door to the restaurant had a vast collection of pearl jewellery for sale.

Leaving all these behind, we moved past shops selling construction material and scooter parts, official buildings and houses with flower-laden vines climbing on them, to our resort in Hoi An.

The way to the resort felt like being in a drama. Driving past the crowded city roads, we had to stop. The short Cam Nam bridge (I hope the name is correct) on Thu Bon River was partially closed for repairs, forcing the vehicles to move on the narrow open stretch . The romance chipped off a little as we lugged our suitcases on the walkway on the side of the bridge, playing the step-down-on-the-road or wait-for-the-other-to-do-so, with people coming from the opposite direction.   

Unmindful of the humans’ efforts going on above, the river waters flowed with tranquility past the resort grounds, our abode for the next 48 hours.

From the architectural marvel of the Hải Vân Tunnel to the serene waters of Central Vietnam, every mile tells a story. Image composite created by author. Source photos via Unsplash. 

Next: Hoi An: A town of lanterns, riverlight, and streets that seemed suspended in time.

 *The Last Emperors of Vietnam: From Tu Duc to Bao Dai by Oscar Chapuis, (2000).                                                                                                 

                                                                                                      - Anupama S Mani