The road bends through small mountain towns and minority villages. We stop to take pictures, and the people look and gaze at the travelers. I can't tell if they're staring because were obviously Americans well off the beaten path or if it's because I'm wearing my ridiculous flower shirt. From Da Lat there was short drop down, but now we have to journey upwards to crest the mountain and gain full view of the valley ahead of us. At a bend that juts out over the declining vale sits a small Buddhist shrine. The shrine was far from people and empty when we arrived. From the carved mound which it sat adjacent to, one could see the whole of the valley from the road hence we came to the windy Pacific ocean. I could see all of the coast and how far we still had to go to Phan Rang. I understood why their had been a shrine here always.