Exploring Quang Ngai for Perceptive Travel

Early last year, intrigued by a headline in a Korean newspaper, I struck up an email correspondence with a historian in Hanoi. I was fascinated by his discovery of a nearly 80-mile long wall in central Vietnam, and eventually decided to travel to Quang Ngai province to see it myself. Perceptive Travel published my story about the trip in their September issue. To see a few more pictures of the wall and the countryside it passes though, check out this photo set on Flickr.

A Year Afoot

For me, 2011 was anything but typical. After spending Christmas on Ko Samet in the Gulf of Thailand, I watched January quietly arrive from a sixth floor balcony in Bangkok. By February I had made two short trips to Cambodia—one to Siem Reap and another to the capital. A month later I was hiking up an active volcano in the Philippines and then in May, I huffed and puffed along a winding jungle trail in Penang, Malaysia (pictured at right) to reach Muka Head and its impressive nineteenth century lighthouse. Meanwhile, in the United States, FalconGuides published Best Hikes Near New York City, my first book since going freelance two years ago.

At the start of summer I was back on the carriage roads and footpaths of New York and New Jersey, leading groups of nature-deprived urbanites for Outdoor Bound. A friend's June wedding in Kentucky was my chance to explore a fraction of the Red River Gorge Geologic Area, although I didn't make it to the state's well known natural bridge. Then in September I spent some time in Vietnam's central provinces trying to learn what I could about the pre-colonial history of the region. I was only back on the East Coast for three weeks before I dashed off to Denver for the 30th annual Great American Beer Festival, a trip that also included a day hike through the red rocks at Roxborough State Park. Finally, just before Thanksgiving, a brief magazine assignment took me to Idaho, where I got a crash course in trout fishing and stopped at the Riverport Brewing Company.

All told, I covered a lot of territory last year, and from this vantage point, 2012 doesn't look like it will involve much sitting still. I've already begun to make plans for a trip to Europe, and once the snow melts in the northeast, I'll get going on my next book, another outdoor recreation guide. In fact, as I peer into the future and consider the amount of travel I'm likely to do in the next 12 months, I have to wonder whether 2011 was really so atypical after all.

Beer for the Beach

For years, Corona has shrewdly marketed itself as the beer to order at any beach, anywhere, claiming to possess "the unparalleled flavor of relaxation." Whatever that means. Personally, television ads featuring tropical shorelines and a soundtrack of crashing surf won't persuade me to buy a bottle of fizzy corn juice disguised as alcohol. Besides, I'd rather drink something brewed locally. Which is why I was happy to share some of my recent beach beer finds in the September issue of Travel + Leisure Southeast Asia.

No, Grupo Modelo's popular lager isn't particularly hard to come by in Thailand, Cambodia, or Vietnam, but given the choice, I'll take a fruity Red Ale or a citrus-tinged Passion Beer at Nha Trang's Louisiane Brewhouse any day of the week. Reserve an umbrella and a beach chair with views of the South China Sea for 35,000 Vietnamese đồng (about $1.68) and spend a leisurely afternoon choosing a favorite by working your way through their tasting tray ($4.80 for four 200 ml glasses). Or, if you find yourself island hopping in Cambodia and craving some refreshment with a shade of bitterness, ask for Clouded Leopard Pilsener (usually around $2), made by Kingdom Breweries in Phnom Penh. The mildly spicy Saaz and Hallertau hops used in this beer mean that even without a wedge of lime, you can count on plenty of taste.

The Cheapest Beer in the World

Maybe so. But I haven't checked that fact just yet. What I am sure of however, is that at 4,000 Vietnamese Dong (about $0.20) apiece, I could afford to have two. And so, on a chilly January night in Hanoi, I exchanged a pair of crumpled bills for my first taste of bia hơi.

It was after 10 p.m. when I found a vendor on Luong Ngoc Quyen, a short distance from the intersection known internationally as bia hoi corner. Curbside seating consisted of about a dozen knee-high, blue plastic stools, so I grabbed one and sat down to take my first swig of Hanoi lager. Light-bodied, low in alcohol, and extremely drinkable, I could see the appeal of whiling away a warmer afternoon at one of the many "gas beer" outlets around the city. In the winter though, fewer people seemed eager to sit outside sipping oat soda until last call. 

My beer didn't offer much in the way of aroma, but it was pleasantly carbonated, and produced a thick white head of foam. Complexity of flavor, on the other hand, is not something bia hơi aspires to. With a straw-like character and the faintest suggestion of hops in the finish, my glass of beer certainly wouldn't impress fans of the more inspired American craft brewers. It might be able to hold its own alongside some of the lighter Latin American lagers though. Personally, I had nothing to complain about—my stomach was full of the bánh mỳ I'd eaten for dinner, a comfortable hotel room awaited me nearby, and when it came to Vietnamese currency, I was still a millionaire.