I'd left Helen alone in an empty police station for at least half an hour. When I let myself consider what could have happened, considering the obvious state of corruption in the town, I shudder.
Me and the nicest Vietnamese man in the world sped back to the station. We picked her up, and discovered that she had been taking photos of her battered face using the timer. (Some of which, with the grace of hindsight, are actually really quite funny.)
Getting my Vietnamese guardian angel to stop round the corner from our hotel, so he couldn't tell where we lived – this was the level of trust we would have in people until we left Vietnam two weeks later – I gave him 100,000 dong and he pop-popped away on his bike.
The reality of the situation donkey punched us, hanging over us like a badly fitting suit. With that suit in mind, we immediately thought of Ed.
Somehow we got into Ed and Nicky's hotel and went door-knocking to find them. Luckily, we only got it wrong once. After waking up some poor Irish couple, we found the correct room and Nicky very kindly tidied up Helen's face and examined me.
They, like many other people – as I will show you later – could hardly believe it when we promised that we hadn’t done anything more than leave the bar to provoke such a reaction.
It was then that we really started to think about what had happened. They had set up an ambush for us – but why? They didn't demand any money from us, they didn't steal any of the dozen cameras that we had on us. In fact money wasn't even mentioned once.
Since we posted on the Lonely Planet site, and also set up a random one-off blog as a warning to people thinking of going to Hoi An, we've received three emails from people saying that they had similar experiences, or they knew someone who had.
The most harrowing of their accounts included a boy who had become separated from his friends, beaten up outside the bar so badly that he feared for his life – and hid in a paddy field until dawn.
[NOTE FROM THE FUTURE: Hello, it's the 2012 version of Chris here, how are you? The King Kong Bar has apparently changed it's name to 'Old & New Bar' [THANK YOU FOR TIP OFF, ANONYMOUS POSTER BELOW HERE] – and who can blame them. If there were dozens of accounts of violence and thievery about my bar on the internet I'd change its name as well. (Seriously, search 'King Kong Bar Hoi An' and you get a mixture of people telling stories about how they were robbed or how they barely escaped with their teeth.)]
Our message here is, if you're going to go after King Kong, make sure you're not a blonde lass. Have you not seen the fucking film?
Anyway, next time we'll have much more funner stories to tell. Sort of. It'll make the Plagues of Egypt look like the Cold of Egham.
It was then that we really started to think about what had happened. They had set up an ambush for us – but why? They didn't demand any money from us, they didn't steal any of the dozen cameras that we had on us. In fact money wasn't even mentioned once.
What their motives were will never be known, but they've been discussed a lot since. Plus, the irony is if they'd had any foresight they would have realised that we would have been back later that night anyway as the only other bar shut at two o'clock. But, as far as we were concerned, money didn't seem to be the motivator.
With a sudden dropping feeling in my stomach, I clocked that I still hadn't found Jon.
Going out on to the street, this time with Ed, I realised that I hadn't really got a clue what I was going to do. I was worried sick. I walked around the streets trying to remember the name of the hotel that Jon had said he was staying in, when I saw a taxi pull in further up the road.
I ran down as I saw a big group of people get out of it – I was overjoyed – it was Jon, his mates and the two Swedish girls.
I gave Jon a very big bear hug and told him he was a cunt for going the other way. He looked at me, incredulous as to what I was going on about – and told me that they'd just had a nice drink in the Sleepy Gecko. Not really getting his sarcasm and suddenly feeling very tired, I told him I would meet him the following day.
Good as my word, I went round the next day and retold what had happened. It turned out that the gang had followed them up to the other bar and had started to throw rocks at them and the bar itself. Jon, however, was quite content with having a nice beer or nine and decided to just weather the storm. Plus he was necking one of the Swedish girls. Priorities.
It turns out that this bar, and its owners in particular, did not have a great reputation in the town. Nicky and Ed, without mentioning what had happened to us, asked their hotel staff what they thought of the King Kong Bar and they said that it was 'A bad place, run by bad people.'
According to the staff at Jon's hotel they were the local drug dealers, and were essentially the local mafia (sic). This somewhat, perhaps, explained why the pigs hadn’t done a lot to help me out.
Whoever these people were, there was no possible way to hold them accountable for anything. The police didn't care, the tourist police (who we walked the town searching for for two hours that day) seemingly didn't exist, and Helen was too scared to leave the hotel once it started to get dark, let alone take it back up with them.
This incident had well and truly taken the wind out of our sails. Vietnam had turned from our favourite country on our travels so far to a place where we were suspicious of everything and everyone. It was a crying shame.
Perhaps we were naive to leave the bar so soon after coming into it, but I don't think any of what followed was in any way justifiable. For me, the most horrifying part was what had happened after the scuffle had occurred. The police, incredibly, were more intimidating than the people with sticks. But then again, I'm sure Helen would tell you that the girl with the sovereign rings was pretty terrifying herself...
If you want to read about really horrible human beings, then copy and paste the link below into your interweb slab, it goes to the Lonely Planet Thorn Tree forum. Helen attempted to post a bit of a 'heads up' to other backpackers going to Hoi An. It met with mixed responses, to say the least…
http://www.lonelyplanet.com/thorntree/thread.jspa;jsessionid=DD770ABC0B4EB33E052B0AE0DE3B812E.app02?messageID=14876433
Helen's riposte is one of the funniest thing's I have ever read though, so it's worth a butchers.
With a sudden dropping feeling in my stomach, I clocked that I still hadn't found Jon.
Going out on to the street, this time with Ed, I realised that I hadn't really got a clue what I was going to do. I was worried sick. I walked around the streets trying to remember the name of the hotel that Jon had said he was staying in, when I saw a taxi pull in further up the road.
I ran down as I saw a big group of people get out of it – I was overjoyed – it was Jon, his mates and the two Swedish girls.
I gave Jon a very big bear hug and told him he was a cunt for going the other way. He looked at me, incredulous as to what I was going on about – and told me that they'd just had a nice drink in the Sleepy Gecko. Not really getting his sarcasm and suddenly feeling very tired, I told him I would meet him the following day.
Good as my word, I went round the next day and retold what had happened. It turned out that the gang had followed them up to the other bar and had started to throw rocks at them and the bar itself. Jon, however, was quite content with having a nice beer or nine and decided to just weather the storm. Plus he was necking one of the Swedish girls. Priorities.
It turns out that this bar, and its owners in particular, did not have a great reputation in the town. Nicky and Ed, without mentioning what had happened to us, asked their hotel staff what they thought of the King Kong Bar and they said that it was 'A bad place, run by bad people.'
According to the staff at Jon's hotel they were the local drug dealers, and were essentially the local mafia (sic). This somewhat, perhaps, explained why the pigs hadn’t done a lot to help me out.
Whoever these people were, there was no possible way to hold them accountable for anything. The police didn't care, the tourist police (who we walked the town searching for for two hours that day) seemingly didn't exist, and Helen was too scared to leave the hotel once it started to get dark, let alone take it back up with them.
This incident had well and truly taken the wind out of our sails. Vietnam had turned from our favourite country on our travels so far to a place where we were suspicious of everything and everyone. It was a crying shame.
Perhaps we were naive to leave the bar so soon after coming into it, but I don't think any of what followed was in any way justifiable. For me, the most horrifying part was what had happened after the scuffle had occurred. The police, incredibly, were more intimidating than the people with sticks. But then again, I'm sure Helen would tell you that the girl with the sovereign rings was pretty terrifying herself...
If you want to read about really horrible human beings, then copy and paste the link below into your interweb slab, it goes to the Lonely Planet Thorn Tree forum. Helen attempted to post a bit of a 'heads up' to other backpackers going to Hoi An. It met with mixed responses, to say the least…
http://www.lonelyplanet.com/thorntree/thread.jspa;jsessionid=DD770ABC0B4EB33E052B0AE0DE3B812E.app02?messageID=14876433
Helen's riposte is one of the funniest thing's I have ever read though, so it's worth a butchers.
Since we posted on the Lonely Planet site, and also set up a random one-off blog as a warning to people thinking of going to Hoi An, we've received three emails from people saying that they had similar experiences, or they knew someone who had.
The most harrowing of their accounts included a boy who had become separated from his friends, beaten up outside the bar so badly that he feared for his life – and hid in a paddy field until dawn.
[NOTE FROM THE FUTURE: Hello, it's the 2012 version of Chris here, how are you? The King Kong Bar has apparently changed it's name to 'Old & New Bar' [THANK YOU FOR TIP OFF, ANONYMOUS POSTER BELOW HERE] – and who can blame them. If there were dozens of accounts of violence and thievery about my bar on the internet I'd change its name as well. (Seriously, search 'King Kong Bar Hoi An' and you get a mixture of people telling stories about how they were robbed or how they barely escaped with their teeth.)]
Our message here is, if you're going to go after King Kong, make sure you're not a blonde lass. Have you not seen the fucking film?
Anyway, next time we'll have much more funner stories to tell. Sort of. It'll make the Plagues of Egypt look like the Cold of Egham.
3 comments:
Fuck my Christ, mate...what the bloody shit?!
Sounds like you've had a bastard of a time. How's Dagley doing?
Jesus on Ice.... I can't even imagine it. I think I would've responded to any threats of physical violence by doing a toilet on myself and weeping.
You're going to be hardened mofo's by the time you get back. True Nam vets.
Are you having a better time of things now?
Bloody hell. What a disgrace. Manly hugs and cuddles, matey.xxx
Hey, I'm in Hoi An now and of course read your story with interest especially as I've been drinking in the Why Not Bar until late.
Was the King Kong Bar on Cam Nam Island? Because Why Not Bar isn't, it is on the mainland on Pham Hong Thai street. Your description fits the location of another late night bar, the 'Old & New Bar', better. I've not been in the latter, but it looks to me from the outside like the two bars could well be owned by the same people.
Dear Anonymous - thank you very much for pointing this out, I'll get this changed right away.
Just googled the 'Old & New Bar' - that's the place. Photos genuinely gave me a shiver.
Don't go there. Or if you do – nah, just don't go there.
Cheers
Chris
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