Dalat. What to say. I am unsure as to why we added Dalat to our itinerary in the first place and I can’t quite decide in retrospect if I’m glad we did or not. People we meet seemed to have either adored Dalat or to have been left completely indifferent. I leave you to guess at which end of the spectrum we stand.
Dalat was rainy and miserable in the afternoons. Lovely and fresh in the morning. But it was… meh. Perhaps we just didn’t give Dalat enough time.
I had heard great tales of motorbiking from waterfall to waterfall and grand old landscapes, alas we do not own an international driving license (and by we, I mean Richard – I hold no driving license whatsoever) and didn’t want to risk bankruptcy should we have had the misfortune to get into an accident and have our insurance voided (please do take this seriously: we saw 3 dead bodies from guys that had crashed their motorbikes today. Vietnam traffic is homicidal).
Don’t get me wrong, Dalat is a beautiful city. The French influence is ever-present with large boulevards and roundabouts set around a majestic lake, but also in small winding cobbled streets hiding cafes and pubs at every corner. As a bonus, the cool climate made for a lovely interlude between two sweaty-ass towns. There are a few interesting sights to visit, notably the “Crazy House”, but as we have read somewhere, Dalat felt more like a distraction than an attraction.
We arrived in Dalat frazzled from the open tour bus (first and last time we take those!) with no great ambition. We pecked around at the few tacky sights that were within walking distance from our guesthouse. Rode the gondola (where I had a GRAND time). Ate a lot of food (there are amazing vegan options in Dalat, so bonus points). Then we rode out of town on the night bus, feeling a little meh about the whole Dalat experience. I guess you can’t have you mind blown 24/7.