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Published: November 2nd 2006
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Hanoi, while distinctively Asian, has just enough French arrogance to to give it a confident edge without being stuffy. The architecture mirrors that attitude. Colorfully balconied French colonial style buildings, three to four stories tall are squeezed into narrow city blocks as if they were in a vice grip. The people are friendly and even those who are peddling are likely to engage you in conversation. There are more English speakers here than in other cities I've visited and most seem to have a working knowledge of French as well. Perhaps Hanoi's biggest distinction is the obscene number of motorbikes that fill the streets. I've been told that in this cramped city of 4 million residents, there are over 3 million motorbikes. They are everywhere - the streets, the sidewalks, lobbies of hotels, lined up outside every shop and cafe in town. In addition there seems to be a complete absence of traffic laws making it challenging to walk around and even more risky to cross the street.
It's dad's last stop so we decide to make the most of it and book an overnight junk boat tour of nearby Halong Bay. After the 3 hour drive from Hanoi, we
can't wait to get out on the water. We shove off around noon, have a quick lunch on board and cruise for a bit before making a stop to explore one of the many caved islands. After a swim and a weak attempt at kayaking, it's back to the boat for dinner and drinks on the rooftop deck. The scenery is breathtaking. As the sun begins to disappear behind the haze, dusk turns to indigo and the limestone karst islands become purple silhouettes while only the cabin lights from other nearby boats can be seen in the quiet bay. The following morning brings more of the same, swimming and sunbathing while taking in the sites before we head back to the harbor for lunch. We make it back to Hanoi in time to take a cyclo ride around the lake before dinner. We pile into the passenger cart that has been welded to front of a bicycle and brace ourselves as we are swept into the stream of traffic. Motorbikes wizz by in both directions barely missing us. Some are carrying families of four and almost no one is wearing a helmet. We are happy to escape with our lives.
After being spoiled with excellent food in China and Thailand, I can't say much for the Vietnamese cuisine. They seem to be using most of the same ingredients and techniques but there is clearly something missing. I guess I'll take the opportunity to take a break from Asian food and try some western dishes until I get back to Thailand. The one thing they seem to have on the other Asian countries however is the excellent euro-strength Vietnamese coffee. It's made drip style by the cup, not by the pot and it's so good I've decided to buy a couple of coffee makers to bring home with me. The other surprising delight obviously inherited from french colonialism are the fresh baked baguettes available on every corner. It's been a few years since I've strolled the Champ D'Elysee but I can't imagine they were any better there than here. I wish I could find bread like this in the states.
After dinner we perch on a 4th floor balcony and observe the chaos from a safe distance. Dad is going home tomorrow and I'm sad to see him go. It's been a real adventure and bonding experience for us and
I wouldn't trade it for the world. After put him on the morning airport shuttle, I take a long walk back to the hotel, smiling and laughing out loud along way recalling our time together. I miss you already. Next time we'll bring our clubs.
Aside form the dodging of traffic, there isn't much to see in Hanoi. No pressure to visit historical sites, temples or tombs (Ho Chi Minh's embalmed corpse has been shipped off to Russia for it's yearly tune up). However, the city and people provide plenty of culture of their own and avoiding the motorbikes has kept the adrenalin levels high. The trick, I've learned is to simply walk out into to traffic, maintain a consistent pace and trust that the drivers don't want to plow you down any more than you want to be plowed. I've heard that Saigon is even worse when it comes to the motorbike traffic, which I can't possible imagine, but I'll see for myself in a few days. As for now, I'm off to the sleepy seaside village of Hoi An for a little R&R and beach time.
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