The plan of the day was to have a sight seeing day. A visit to the Train Station to book our tickets and a visit to the White Buddha, to be followed by general exploration of the area. The day has not exactly progressed as planned!
The early 5.30 rise of the past few days was abandoned in favour of a whole hour lie in. My morning ritual was completed just before Lisa and Steve surfaced from next door. Doors were locked and armed with our camera's, my hat and a few hundred Dong we set off along the busy streets towards the trains.
The heat was rising by the second and Steve was beginning to suffer. I luckily relish the heat, full length dresses allow air to circulate as you walk, my hat keeps the sun from my head and shoulders and at a steady pace I can wander the streets all day, exploring alleys and side roads until hopelessly lost. By the time Steve made it to the Train Station, his shirt resembled the end result of a wet T-shirt competition. Moisture poured from his body, rivulets trickled down his face to drop from his nose or chin.
The Train we had originally wanted was full but the next one had space and still got us to Saigon in time for Lisa's 8.30 flight. We booked the tickets, using up most of our Dong in the process.
Next stop the White Buddha, sitting atop his hill, the only hill in Nha Trang. Those of you who have been following my Blog, will know that I have never made it to the White Buddha before. A year ago Kris had refused point blank to walk the steps or to show me the way, Peter had bottled out on my last visit in favour of the beach and so my directions to this famous local monument were vague to say the least.I had passed it on the Train as we approached the Train Station in May, so this seemed like quite a good direction to start. I also knew it was on a hill, but from our narrowed street level view point, hills were a bit hard to spot.
We walked the 50m to the next large round about, cars and bikes streamed in all directions, no signs, no directions, no pictures of a Buddha on large Brown Tourist Boards. I hailed a taxi.
“Where Buddha, please?”, he passed me a piece of paper. I wrote 'Buddha' and passed it back. He looked confused and passed me the paper once more. I drew a head, folded arms, bended knees. Recognition dawned as he grinned and nodded his head. He opened the door, beckoning us in.
“How much, please?” I enquired. After my last rather expensive taxi ride, I needed to know well in advance. “Meter” was all he would say and so we got in. Our taxi entered the main stream of moving traffic, merged with all the other residents of the road on the round about, extracted himself from the heaving medley and pulled up less than 100m further along the road outside large gates!! 11,000 Dong was handed over (30p) as we laughed at our incredibly long journey.
Once inside the entrance we were greeted by three girls in immaculate uniform, they were our free guides we were informed, they lived with the monks and studied at the school there. We chatted as we walked, clicking away with our cameras as we went.
They led us up steps to a large shrine where we removed our shoes before entering. We paid our obeisances and took more pictures, marvelled at the craftsman ship around the walls, took artistic photos of the hanging umbrellas and left.A few more steps and we were shown to the reclining or sleeping Buddha. My panoramic shot unfortunately makes him look pot bellied! As we went to move on, the post cards each girl had hidden in their pockets, came out. Nothing is for free! The money, they explained went to the school, at 200 Dong each packet (£7.50) they were not cheap. We bought one between us and having shown us the steps to the top of the hill, the girls left us to search for more people to guide.
We climbed the steps, stopping briefly to watch a ceremony being performed at the Huge hanging bell.
Money was handed over and the monk invited the people to sit inside the bell. Once inside he swung the large hammer, sound resonating all around. He intoned a few prayers, rang the bell again and invited other members of the family to enter the bell.
We climbed higher, looked dismally at the rubbish scattered throughout the trees and emerged onto the plateau in brilliant sunshine. There ahead of us at the top of just a few more steps, was the White Buddha. We were offered fans, water, soft drinks, whistles, incense, coconuts, and much more by the few stalls and girls working the surrounding area. We were followed as we climbed the last few steps, their voices persistent as they tried to dispose us of our money. They followed us as we walked to the back of this enormous statue, they even climbed the steps that lead to the small temple inside. 
A solitary man sat quietly in the corner, silently watching, silently waiting. I once again paid my obeisances, took a photo, marvelled at the carvings on the walls and bowing respectfully to the man, left. Outside, the throng of ladies had thankfully dispersed.
We wandered down a few steps to the crematorium. Hundreds of tiny boxes in long walls, holding loved ones safe and remembered. Some had pictures, some just had dates, each one had the remains of burnt incense sticks, each one was once a person.
We returned to the Buddha, took the obligatory photo on the steps, before descending once more to the courtyard below. Steve's shirt clung ever tighter to his flesh. We took refuge in the cafe, aiming the fan directly at him, until he cooled enough for the return journey.
By the time we had reached the Train Station he was dripping again. We hailed another taxi, he was not going to make it home. Lisa and Steve returned to the hotel cooled by the air-con, while I spent another hour wandering down the side roads and getting lost in the alleys. It is now 12.30, further exploration has been abandoned as I sit on the cool balcony, Lisa reads a book and Steve recovers in the full blast of the fan on his bed!
But 'There are no bad things that happen, only good that take longer to understand' and this unforeseen change of plan now means I have the time to sit and write about the last two days of incredible diving!
I will try not to bore you too much with narrative, previous tales should now have you familiar with the daily routine of 5.30 rises, equipment loads, kit assemble and breakfasts. 
The ride out to the dive site was calm to the point of tranquillity. Not even rolling swells broke the horizon.Nick was once again leading the dive, Lisa was with Kris, again performing various scenarios and responses for her Rescue Diver Course. Nick wanted to be first into the water and so we were ready as the boat finally shut off its engines. Lisa had been told to wait until everyone else was in the water and so sat at the very front of the boat.
Suddenly a shout went up from Nick, he flailed in the water, submerged and surfaced. Lisa shot from the front, calling out instructions as she went. She hadn't been expecting this! Nicks 'Rescue' was flawless. I was speechless as I hadn't realised it was 'pretend' until the end!
Relieved, and by now very hot, Steve and I entered the water and sank into the depths. We headed out to the large rock at Moray Beach where an entire world spirals around the coral encrusted outcrop. Squirrel fish, trumpet fish, baby box, big box, feathered worms, sponges, sea anemones, the list is endless.
We hung upside down looking into crevices, we circled the rock peering under the lower ledges. Half an hour later it was time to move back towards the boat and reluctantly we left our treasure trove of marine life.
We met up with Lisa and Kris on the way, he checked our air and signalled for us to follow him as he led us back towards our rock. Once there he proceeded to point out things we had missed. A Loin fish lay quivering in the sand, nudibranchs crawled their way over rocks, shrimps lay hidden, a conga eel nestled in his lair.
Eventually it was time once more to leave, we returned to the boat, took a few more unusual group shots and climbed on board. Air was replenished, nourishment was consumed, sun warmed our bodies and we were ready to return to the depths.
With Lisa's skills finished, she and Kris once more joined us after a short while. Together we explored the reef, moving slowly in the gentle current.
A cuttle fish hung, camouflaged against the surrounding area, as we approached he went black, warning us to stay away. The cameras clicked, he retreated a short distance and returned to his calm mottled white colours.
More Lion fish were found, one as small as Kris's finger, perfect in every way.
The dive continued, the scene ever changing, ever the same.
We returned to the boat full of tales,”Did you see …. ? What about the …...!!” All of us talking at once after our hour of silent wanderings.
We met up that evening to once more compare notes over dinner. Lisa had now finished her course save her final exam and it was Kris's day off in the morning. His normal late night was abandoned as he announced that he would lead us all out on a dive the next day. The next day being his DAY OFF!! This fact was mentioned quite often as the evening progressed.
Despite his 'Day Off' status, we were all at the dive shop loading and unloading like usual the next day. Breakfast was consumed, the days guests were greeted, the morning Boat Brief delivered and we were on our way.
At South Beach we were once more the first ones into the water, dropping down quite quickly to 17m. I was happily looking around on the sand when Lisa tapped me gently on the shoulder. I turned to see her signalling for me to rise. We returned to 10m, Nick signalled for us to remain at this depth, while Steve and Kris continued their assent. Another 'O' Ring had blown!!!!
Kris replaced his 'O' Ring at the surface, checked his air and descended once more. Another disaster averted! The water was quite cold at the bottom and I was grateful for my wetsuit. The others, immune to the cold, as I am to the heat, happily swam in just their shorts and rash-vests!
The waters were explored, the residents observed, the underwater universe became ours for an hour.
Our second dive was at Octopus Rock.
We motored around the bay to our mooring, passing the cliffs with their hanging huts and precarious walk-ways. These 'residences' belong to the Bird Nest collectors and the surrounding area is guarded well by the territorial Vietnamese men who make their living from this precarious existence.
With dinner happily inside us we kitted up for our next dive. Octopus, you will remember, is the home of all the swim throughs and this time we had air! The visibility was poor in comparison to our last visit, sediment hung in the water, pulled in by the changing full moon currents.
Incredible feathered anemones drew in their tentacles feeding their central mouth, two nudibrach worked their way across a rock, life moved all around us.
The time passed quickly and with reluctance we returned to the boat. Kit was stowed and we retired to the top deck to compare photos while the sun scorched the decks.
Ice creams were consumed for lunch, showers and rests were taken at our room. I settled to write the Blog now four days in arrears! At 6.15 I pressed 'Publish' determined to return to it later to finish uploading the photos.
By 8pm we were on the beach, the full moon hidden behind the clouds. Simon had invited us to another Beach BBQ and Tri's wife had prepared special food for me to eat.
Simon's son JJ was now 18 months old and had grown in the two months I had been away. We sat and we ate, we chatted and we laughed. Nick and Leslie joined us and we arranged a final day out on the boat together.
The days are passing so quickly in Nha Trang. In two more days Lisa and Steve will return to the UK, I will move on to Singapore to meet up with Peter. So much to do, so little time left.
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