Galveston beach is calm today. In Vung Tau we can see foaming waves hitting the shore from 300 feet away, and the sun-shy ones (like myself) can hide under the shade of sheoaks planted along the beach (*). Galveston is different. A blazon strip of land.
When you go to the sea on a holiday weekend, you get what you expect: (too) plenty of sunshine, sand, lots of people smiling, sweating on the bikes, burning tanning on the beach. When you go to a Chinese restaurant, you expect cheap, commonplace food, casual companies and indeed they are. But never expect too much. We went to China Island, a “restaurant” 10 minutes from the sea, expected decent seafood, and didn’t get it.
A lady stared at little mom, making her feel guilty for taking the last fish fillet. Later we found out the lady didn’t really miss much, the fish wasn’t fresh. The fried shrimps were poorly coated and poorly fried.
Fried rice hastily done, just as plain as white rice can be. Chickens boring and textureless. Crème caramel and watermelon both tasted like water. The fortune cookies were perhaps the best things, since we all got good quotes. What can I say? It costs only $28.65 for three. Our car got a break and some suntan in the parking lot too.
It looks like I’m not the only one unhappy about China Island.
(*) It must have been 10 years since I last went to Vung Tau. Of course lots must have changed.
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