The day of the first Hoi An International Triathlon. We rose at 6.15 and left before 6.30 but it took forever to find a taxi (we had to go to Central Market to get one). No one will take us for $2 but at least this one was on a meter. We arrived in plenty of time as the start of the race was delayed till 7.20 (s0me cockamamie explanation about how Viet time is ACTUALLY 20 mins behind the official time??). There were less than 100 competitors so it's a pretty relaxed tri. J was feeling good, unlike the last unhappy experience in Phuket. The race organisers also brought in a bunch of little kids to cheer. Even more bizarre than Singapore.

The swimmers were off at 7.20 and J and I went off for breakfast with Julian (who is running with Barbara in Team Ape). Then we waited for the cyclists at the transition area. Udo was almost last out of the water so Tab took a while to complete the bike leg but she managed to gain a few places. Barbara was the first back of the lot, as expected, than Trish, Becky and Frederick. Then Tab. J was off like a hare raring to go. He was fast too, faster than I expected given how he had ZERO training but he completed his race in 52 mins or thereabouts and would have been faster had he not made a wrong turn at one point...

The thing is everyone finished, which was a miracle considering the chaos that the bike leg was. They had not closed the roads as promised (how could they, since the locals don't give a hoot about traffic rules) and there were no road markings so the cyclists, who were already strung out thinly given the small numbers, were in danger of 1) losing their way 2) being mowed down by a truck, taxi or moped. Amazingly, no one died. However, there was a jarring incident in the spat Barbara had with the Nazi Race Lady (actually she was French and her name was Nathalie) who DID NOT LIKE us being in the finish area taking pictures, despite the fact we were not in anyone's way and there was hardly anyone ar0und anyway. BW exchanged some heated words with her and at one point had to brush NRL's falsely consoling hand off her shoulder. Eeks. The pointed beaky nose and skinny shoulders of that one were rather apt.

But her aside, it was a good showing by the crew and I was most proud of J. We hobbled over to the Victoria to reproach the 2Ms for not showing up (they were still in bed!!!) then cabbed it back to the TX where he tried but failed to nap. Then we hobbled to the Mango Rooms to have lunch with Julian and Cecilia (I had the most fabulous and delicate red snapper fillet, grilled to perfection, and he had some shrimp in a delish ginger and onion sauce). At a loss what to do afterwards, but we finally settled on sitting on the beach with Barbara and Udo (how difficult was that).

Awards dinner followed at the Golden Sands, with the Weitzes kindly loaning me the use of their bathroom to get ready. Now, we have had better Awards dinners than this one, to be sure. First of all, the wait staff would not stop hounding us for our dinner vouchers. They smelt a rat and ok so we were scamming them (Zoe and I did not have tickets) but c'mon guys, the race participants were already paying USD24 a head in a country where that could buy 20 meals, so who's scamming who? But one waitress in particular would not leave us alone and came back every now and then to pester us for vouchers. I had fully intended to buy a ticket but got so harried that I decided not to anymore. In the end she left us alone when J raised his voice at her.

The awards themselves were fantastic, cos Teams Ape and Insane placed second and third (all right, there were four teams in total) and Trish placed third in her category, so most of our crew got red silk lanterns for prizes. But then we all had to sit through the most dismal cultural performance by the Vietnamese hosts (it'll take em a while to reach this century). Afterwards there was dancing but both the music and the sound system were dodgy, to say the least, and though Barb gave the deejay her own CD of dance music selected by Zoe to play (she would), Miss Don't-Tell-Me-What-To-Do spinmeister refused to play it (maybe her communist sensibilities warned her it would be dangerous and to stick to Modern Talking and Boney M -- I danced to Boney M!!! Talk about coming down in life...)

At 11.15 the party had to be broken up and while the younger set shuffled off to another Beach Bar, J and I found a cab to take us home. My husband is going to feel less than perfect in the morning...