Hoi An: Coconut on the beach, a tailored suit and some very cheap beer

Wednesday 12 - Sunday 16 December

It was a picture-perfect paradise.

Sheltered from the elements by the palm trees, we looked out at the crisp white waves crashing onto the golden beach.

Picture perfect: The beach in Hoi An, Vietnam, where we sat and drank fresh coconut milk

A red flag fluttered in the sea breeze, warning us the seawater was too dangerous to swim in. A couple of hardy surfers bravely, or foolishly, ignored the warning.

Reaching for a sharp glistening kitchen knife, the middle-aged Vietnamese man with a weathered face hacked the top off the big green juicy coconut right in front of us.

Then he delicately whipped out two white straws and put them inside before placing the fruit down in front of us.

Fresh coconut: A green coconut we drank on the beach. It looks different to those on sale in Britain essentially just because it is fresh

The coconut was almost as big as a watermelon and the milk inside had a freshness you'd never get from its unrecognisable thick, brown and hairy cousin you'd find in a British supermarket.

Sitting on plastic chairs at a small table, we looked out at the beach which stretched hundreds of yards to our right and left.

After we had been sitting there a few minutes the rain came pouring down - the dark and leaden sky unleashed some of its anger on us with a sharp tropical shower.

We scrape the inside of the coconut

Although rain has killed off many British days at the beach, here the downpour was more of a relief.

After cycling four kilometres to the beach in stifling humidity (or on a cold winter day if you are Vietnamese) a shower was exactly what I needed.

We were lured to Hoi An by the promise of bargain tailor-made suits, but discovered the perfect coastal town.

We hired bicycles for the day to go to the beach in Hoi An for 20,000 Vietnamese dong - or about 60 pence each

The town lies just over 500 miles down Vietnam's vast coastline from China looking out onto the South China Sea.

Despite featuring prominently on the backpacker trail, Hoi An is so small it doesn't warrant having its own station on the country's shambolic rail network. So we got the train to the nearby city of Da Nang before getting a minibus.

As the beach is again some distance away, we had to hire the bicycles for the day for 60p each to get there.

In the centre of Hoi An, the narrow criss-crossing streets are lined with beautiful old two-storey buildings.

I dipped my toes in the sea water - but it was too choppy for swimming and a red flag was up

Such is the town's popularity with tourists that the majority of these former homes have been turned into tailors and souvenir shops.

An idyllic river snakes it's way through the town. The vast selection of bars and restaurants at the water's edge are a great place to relax during the daytime -but the whole place looks even better at night.

If the beautiful golden beach and the wonderful town centre haven't convinced you this town is a perfect holiday destination, then consider this: A glass of fresh locally brewed beer costs nine pence. That's right nine pence - or 3,000 Vietnamese Dong.

Admittedly a glass contains a mere third of a pint -so a whole pint will set you back a whopping 9,000 Dong - or 27p.

The waterfront in Hoi An. A river runs through the city and there are excellent bars and restaurants down by the water

Anyway, it's reputation for high-quality tailors is what attracted to us to Hoi An - so I wasn't going to leave without a custom-made suit.

We went to the well-reviewed Kimmy's Tailors which was highly recommended by our hostel (because of the healthy commission they undoubtedly get paid for sending us there).

A tiny Vietnamese lady who could have been no more than 4ft 6in tall scurried around me furiously with a tape measure taking every measurement imaginable for my new suit.

Wet: Despite temperatures hitting 28C most days there was a lot of rain. But because of the humidity it was often a relief

Ruins we visited at My Son, not far from Hoi An. On the site stood an amazing array of Hindu temples - until the Americans bombed it all during the Vietnam war

I ordered a grey suit with two trousers and a shirt while Kelly-Ann ordered a pair of trousers. Overnight the tailors worked away above the shop floor, rattling out our new outfits on their sewing machines.

The next day we returned for a first fitting of the new garments before they were sent away again for some resizing and reshaping.

To me it seemed fine - but they found a raft of minor alterations to make.

Although backstreet tailors will knock together whole suits for as little as £70, if you're going to spend that little there really is no point bothering. My suit came in at £250 including the cost of shipping it home - a vast fortune in Vietnam. However, the quality of the finished product was incredible and the whole thing fitted perfectly. (Usually if something fits well you write "like a glove", but I have a pair that are far too big for me).

We had come for the tailors - but loved this wonderful coastal town.