Good Morning Vietnam!

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M - We arrived in Hanoi in the North which according to Kate is a bit of a foodies city. Well this was her excuse for spending several hours our last day in Bangkok on the internet researching Hanoi’s local specialties and looking for restaurants! I wasn’t exactly complaining as I am always the beneficiary of her research in this area. Let the eating begin!

We checked into our hotel then first stop we had to, and I mean we really had to, have Bun Cha! Bun Cha are like little pork burgers. Kate had found a place on-line that was well known for them but we asked our hotel reception if there was anywhere closer. They send us off down a little side street to a cramped little locals place with diners spilling out onto the pavement. We were ushered in and taken up a small staircase to an even smaller upstairs dining area. We sat excitedly waiting for a menu but the next thing to arrive was the food itself. It appears this place only served Bun Cha! They served them in a broth with more pieces of pork accompanied on this occasion by a huge bowel of noodles, a stack of spring rolls and bowls of fresh herbs (cilantro, basil etc), sliced pickled Asian pears, garlic and chilies. I was already liking Hanoi!

When Kate was last in Hanoi 12 years ago, in contrast to Ho Chi Min City in the south, it had no motorbikes or cars and everyone moved around the city on bicycles. She said it was very calming after Ho Chi Min City. She couldn’t wait to see how it had changed. Gone were the bikes, in were the motorbikes. They were everywhere, and are used to transport anything as you will see from the photos. I didn’t see anyone actually transporting the kitchen sink, but I did twice see someone with a washing machine as his pillion passenger and two guys carrying what looked like a single bed. My favourite though is the guy with two rolls of carpet on the back. I have visions of him forgetting his extra-wide load and taking-out other riders as he moved down the road. That if he doesn’t fall off first, when we last saw him turn out of sight he was using his feet a lot to steady himself.

In the US, unless you are in NY, you don’t dare cross the road other than an official crossing and only then if the little green man is lit up. To do so gets you at best the startled looks of those around you or at worst a ticket for Jaywalking. The rest of the world is a little more relaxed, but in Vietnam they have taken it to another level.

They do have zebra crossings in Vietnam but they don’t actually stop for you. There is a little green man at junctions but similarly they don’t necessarily stop for you. The local technique for crossing is to just walk at an even pace into the traffic and let the bikes and cars glide around you without batting an eyelid. At first, having motorbikes passing both in front and behind you at the same time can a little alarming, but you get used to it pretty quickly.

What is pretty amusing though is to stand in front of a group of American tourists as they wait for a non-existent space in the traffic and just step out. You can hear the sharp intake of breath …

A cultural area that the Vietnamese do have in common with the US though is their pride in their independence. In the last 100 or so years they have had occupation by the French and briefly the Japanese and of course the war with the US. Like in the US they display their pride by flying the National flag at every opportunity. At times when driving through the countryside it seems like every second house/farm has a little red flag proudly displayed at the top of a bamboo stalk outside. The communist hammer and sickle is also very prominent on buildings, flags and memorials.

I told Kate I was going to treat her to a stay at the Hanoi Hilton. I think she thought I meant the 4 star chain hotel but what I was referring to was Hanoi Jail. It was so named by the American pilot POWs during the war. Its an interesting sight. Originally built by the French for political prisoners it has its own guillotine which the Vietnamese continued to use on its own political prisoners into the first half of the 20^th century.

The next day, consistent with our usual desire to avoid the main tourist route we made our way independently to Quan Lan Island. Quan Lan is on the other side of Halang Bay, away from the main tourist area and is a fishing island and local summer beach destination. After a 4 ½ hour local bus journey we boarded a 4 hour local ferry through the bay. Unfortunately the weather wasn’t on our side and the turquoise waters were a little dark and the wasnot as clear as we would have hoped. Even though I could see that on a clear day this would be a stunning place to visit. We stayed a night on the island. It was a little cold, I could see my breath in our room but we were nice and warm under our 4 duvets!

Next day the weather was worse so we decided we would cut our losses make the journey back to Hanoi. Before leaving we took a stroll around the fishing village. I think the locals were pretty surprised to see any tourists wandering their streets and we were greeted with even more than the usual number of smiles and waves. With a couple of hours still to kill before the boat I decided to challenge the local kids to a few games of pool. Like all kids worldwide they have a loose definition of rules until it comes time for them to add in a rule that benefits them! Soon word of my pool prowess had spread and a few older teenagers turned up to join the line of challengers. I held up the family honor and only lost two games, all be it one to another local rule quirk. Meanwhile Kate seemed to be occupied taking photos of two little girls who were fascinated by posing for the camera.

Back in Hanoi it was time to try some of the local beer. All around town they have little bars that sell locally made beer on tap for as cheap as 25 cents a pint! Even I had to break my drinking fast for that! I did however opt for the roast pork as opposed to the roast pigeon to accompany it. Not enough meat on the pigeon for my liking!

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