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5 challenges of running a remote resort

I was talking to a guest the other day who said something I’ve probably heard a thousand times since arriving at Bai Tram Hideaway Resort: “How amazing that you get to wake up in paradise every day. I’m so jealous!”

I understand why people are envious. Bai Tram is as special as destinations come. We’re right on the ocean. We’ve got a beautiful private beach that’s naturally well protected by our surrounding mountains. The setting is peaceful and tranquil because we’re so far off the beaten track.

But if there’s one thing I’ve learned since moving here a year and a half ago it’s this: the more remote your resort, the more challenges you face from an operations standpoint. For example:

1. Language. Even though I’ve lived in Singapore, Thailand and Indonesia, I’d never been to Vietnam before taking this job. I love to speak the language of the country I’m in and communicate with the locals, but I quickly found it was almost impossible here. Save for housekeeping, maintenance, the restaurant crew and the butlers, few of the employees spoke English. And my Vietnamese? Let’s just say I don’t take to tonal languages overnight.

So what did I do? What any tech geek might: I turned to my iPhone. I took pictures of things. I’d point to the screen and say, “This is what I want.” Or, “This is the color I’m after.” And then I learned the basics — the Vietnamese words for screw, nail, chair, table … those kinds of things. Management by iPhone — that saved my life.

2. Maintenance. There was no blueprint for the resort when I got here. I had no idea where the electrical cables and water pipes were. And even if I had known, it probably wouldn’t have mattered. Everything here was custom-made, years ago, or imported from overseas, like our generator. So if something broke down, there were no spare parts. I’m lucky my father was an engineer. He taught me how to create technical drawings.

My first big project here was new decking for the main swimming pool. All the wood needed to be replaced because it was weathered from the environment — sun, rain, sand, salt, wind. But you don’t go to a Wal-Mart here and order decking. Instead, you order a teak tree from Laos. And if that tree runs out, you order a new tree from Laos.

I was pressed for time on the decking because Christmas was coming and I had exactly 14 days to get it done. I couldn’t find a professional craftsman. I knew the dimensions, though, so that’s what we started with. I gathered a crew of 12 locals to help, but my best two guys … well, one was blind in one eye, and the other missing three fingers!

In Vietnam, they like to construct with nails, but I said, “No, we must use screws.” But you needs kilos and kilos of screws. Materials like that rust quickly, so you need inox/stainless-steel screws. Fortunately, I’d helped a friend build a big deck three years before. I drew from that experience, and we got it done. It turned out great. But poor Quy Nhon — by the time we finished, the entire city was sold out of screws!

3. Water. The main water comes from eight wells 59 ft (18 m) deep at our property and is pumped 262 ft (80 m) up the mountain. It’s a gravity-feed system, and it’s good water, so the showers — even our big, outdoor rain showers — have strong pressure. But for everything else — the coffee you drink, the ice cubes in your cocktail — we’ve got to have bottled water.

4. Planning. At a city hotel, if you break some margarita glasses, for instance, it’s no problem — you just send someone down the street to get new ones.

It’s not that easy here. We’ve got these small juice glasses that we use for breakfast. When I first got here and realized we needed more of those, I bought a dozen when I was in Ho Chi Minh City. But soon I was kicking myself. I should’ve bought four dozen, because I don’t go to HCMC every week. If you find something you like, or need, buy mass quantities. Or better yet, buy all that’s available when you get the chance, because many times you cannot order the same stuff again. It’s in stock for a limited time. 

Along those same lines, the closest wine shop is 124 mi (200 km) from our resort, in Nha Trang. But that’s our only real option. They put a box of wine on a bus, and we say, “If you reach Song Cau (town), call this telephone number and we will tell you where to deliver.” And 99% of the stuff ordered comes to my driver’s door. Luckily for me he lives near the main highway. Sometimes they miss the delivery point and it ends up in down the road in Quy Nhon, but that’s no problem. We find out and we get it. So there’s a lot of planning involved.

5. Cultural gap. Any Westerner who’s spent time in Asia understands “yes” doesn’t always mean “yes” here. If you ask your employee a yes-or-no question, and they say, “Yes, I know,” don’t take that response for granted. There can be a discrepancy between understanding and nodding yes. The eyes say a lot.

I’ve learned you can’t ask questions they have to answer negative on. They don’t want to “lose face,” as it’s called. Here, if they say they can have it done in one day, just figure it may take two or three, and live with that result. It’s just how things work; live with it and enjoy it.

 


Ieks Poppema is resident manager at Bai Tram Hideaway in Vietnam.

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