Bring your beloved friends

In the late 80's and early 90's I spent, with my Indonesian speaking then-partner, a goodly amount of time in the back blocks of Java, and, of course, Bali. It wasn't Bali's heyday, from a traveller's point of view. We were probably 10 years too late for that. But it was still damned exciting, especially around Ubud and Lovina. Kuta was already a chaotic wasteland, but once you headed north, these were pre-"You want transport?" days.

Further east, the gems of central Java were a revelation. Malang, Solo, and the high-energy of Jalan Marioboro in Yogyakarta made one feel a little (just a little) like some pilgrim walking the streets of Byzantium. I remember wheeling down this crazy market street with beloved friends, senses tingling in the knowledge this wonderful place was a thousand kilometres closer to Perth than Canberra.

I've not been back to Yogyakarta in 20 years, but I've revisited Bali a few times. It's a shadow of what it was, we all know that. But still there is the scent of the exotic, the lingering flavour of how it can drug the most cemented of sensibilities, and the most precious of cultures yet battles on.

There's another place now. A rare, exquisite town that's hanging under the sword of the backpacker hordes.. Hoi An, in central Vietnam. And I'm here, with - yes - beloved friends.

I've already heard the line. "You should have been here ten years ago." Probably true, but it's still one helluva ride. Dignified, welcoming people, a commercial culture that's not at all strident, and hidden secrets everywhere. The place is far enough north to take the oppressive edge off the tropical clime, and the food... Well, the food is extraordinary. Consistent and cared about.

Maybe it's because I saw Bali mutate before my eyes, or maybe it's just because the bottle of water I bought today had a tiny Coca Cola brand hidden in the fine print, but I can only recommend - passionately, sincerely, with no hint of a punch line - that you pay a visit, before it's too late. It's a town on the brink of tourist stardom, and that can never bode well. Come now, and bring your beloved friends.