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Published: March 4th 2010
We had heard so many awful accounts of Hanoi that we were almost put off coming here. It is true that traffic here is incredibly dense and chaotic, but we must have grown accustomed to Vietnamese traffic, because we didn't find this too daunting. As is beginning to be the norm here in Vietnam, we were dumped out of the bus on the side of a street that had no obvious street names. After finding one and searching for it in our guide book to no avail, we just hailed a taxi and got him to turn on the meter to bring us to our hotel in the Old Quarter.
The Hanoi Atlantic Hotel deserves special mention because the staff in the hotel was without doubt the most friendly we have encountered on the trip to date. Tired and emotional we bundled into their lobby, and within seconds they had found our reservation and made sure we were comfortably seated with a glass of water in hand. Our rooms weren't ready yet, but this was to be expected, as it was only 7.30am! They furnished us with a map of the city, offered to guard our luggage, and sent us
of upstairs for a free breakfast. I have grown so used to people trying to con us or just being abrupt in Vietnam, that these simple acts of unexpected kindness nearly tipped me over the edge.
We sat silently in their lobby until a more reasonable hour. We needed to book a tour of Ha Long Bay for the next day, but there are so many fake tour companies in Hanoi that it is difficult to decide who to go with. Once we were feeling human again we set off through the streets of Hanoi to find the Kangaroo Cafe that had such a good review in the Lonely Planet. We soon figured out that Hanoi traffic is different to Ho Chi Minh in one way: they don't stop for you, and usually they don't even slow down!
We reached the Kangaroo Cafe in one piece, but were disappointed to learn that they weren't running any tours over the Tet festival, as they were giving their staff a holiday. This panicked us a bit, and we began to imagine spending the next four days in Hanoi. It is a nice city, but not really worth four days of
our trip - mostly because it gets really tiresome to have to constantly negotiate your way around parked scooters, and eventually the hum of the traffic gets too much to handle.
When we returned to the hotel and inquired about their package deal for Ha Long Bay. They delighted in telling us that it was still running and as guests of the hotel we could have a discount. We stomped up 63$ a head and were told we would be woken at seven the next morning. Finally we were let into our room which in a stroke of good luck, didn't have a window. As we closed the door, the hum of Hanoi was blocked out and we had our own little refuge.
We had time for breakfast the next morning before being herded onto a bus with other tourists. A chirpy Australian girl enthused about 'How great it was going to be?', to which we mumbled a response. I chided myself for being so anti-social, but it was 8am, and I hadn't had any caffeine. She should have known better.
Traffic was heavier in Hanoi because of Tet, so it took four hours to reach the
port in Ha Long City. I understand now why people advise against a one day trip from Hanoi. It is a long bus journey to then see the bay for about three hours, before doing the same bus trip home. Thankfully we had heeded this advice, and had booked an overnight tour on one of the junk boats. 'Hung', our guide, collected our passports and disappeared shortly after we dismounted the bus. When he returned he pretended to be on the phone for the best part of the next hour while trying to ignore his groups growing impatience. It took an hour to get us on a boat, despite watching several tours arrive and disperse during that time. It was one o'clock before we eventually got access to our boat, but it was a beautiful boat and the restaurant and cabins were far superior to the boat we had toured the Whitsundays on in November.
We shared our table with a lovely older couple who were as loved up as teenagers. As we got to know them we learned that they were in their fifties, had spent most their adult lives running a resort in the Philippines, which they
had recently sold, and were now taking six months to just enjoy life. It clearly suited them, and they were lovely company over dinner.
Food was served on sharing plates for each table with a large pot of rice. It was a nice way to get a taste of lots of different dishes, and it forced an instant bond with those you shared the table with. Drinks were noted in an honesty book (although I later came to doubt the honesty of those in charge of the book). The view of the bay was stunning. It's beauty reminded me of Milford Sounds in New Zealand because it was so quiet and unassuming. The junk boat brought us to the Sung Sot caves, where we were rushed through the tour to make up the time lost at the marina. We saw enough though to realise that it was an amazing place.
Next we pulled up near a congregation of floating boat houses to go canoeing and watch sunset over the bay. Hung laughed off a question on whether we could have life jackets citing them as 'uncomfortable when canoeing'. With our swimming confidence gained from scuba diving, I felt
ok to take my chances without a jacket, but some people didn't want to risk it, and instead had to see the sunset from the junk boat. Philippe and I paddled our way out to the centre of the bay and watched as the water turned orange and pink as the sun set. It was an incredible experience, one that made rushing from Hue completely worthwhile.
Back on the boat we moved to a deeper area where swimming was possible. It was dusk and the air was cooling, but Philippe couldn't resist. As Hung taunted us about jumping from the top of the boat, Philippe didn't need to be asked twice - he was the first in! Soon two of the other guys on the boat followed suit and one of the Australian girls even braved the jump. As Philippe came back up on deck for another jump I noticed him taking in the height of the top of the boat, I don't think he had realised it on his first go. Egged on by his new best friend, Daniel, they jumped again, and soon they were all shloshing about in the water like extra's in Brokeback Mountain.
Dinner was another delicious spread, accompanied by many drinks from the bar and some Ethanol vodka that Daniel had bought from one of the passing shop boats. We retired for drinks on the upper deck. Soon after we heard a loud screeching sound followed by a hoarse cry emanating from the restaurant. 'Karaoke' someone diagnosed, and we rushed downstairs to see what sort of music was going on.
I was taking it easy on the booze, having not fully recovered psychologically from my food poisoning in Mui ne. Philippe had no such issues. This meant that by the time the karaoke was in full swing, he was feeling pretty confident. I have never seen Philippe sing karaoke. This is because he maintains he has never done it. I beg to differ however, because when Dan handed him a microphone it was like watching a baby clasp his momma's finger for the first time - and he wasn't letting go!
After being a backing singer to Martin's 'Cocaine', he came into his own for “Daddy Cool”. By the time we had all sung Oasis' “Don't look back in anger”, Philippe and Dan had taken centre stage. The Aussie girls
(who we never gelled with after the initial anti-social opening), were not amused to be upstaged by these drunken blokes, but the truth of the matter was that the boys were just a lot more entertaining than hearing 'Titanic' crucified by a deluded teenager.
The boys were crucifying songs, but the entertainment lay in the fact that they
knew they were so bad. By the time they crooned “Let it be”, they had cleared the restaurant. I only stayed to film them for use in future torture sessions. By “Money for Nothing”, even the boys recognised that it was time to call it a night!
Breakfast was served at eight o'clock accompanied by two not so subtle TIP envelopes. We were already cruising around the bay so we could relax with our coffee and watch the world go by. We were requested to pay our drinks bill, and I approached the deck-hand to do so. I had made a point of checking our total just before we went to bed, and low and behold, there was another beer spirited on overnight. I pointed this out and it was subtracted without any disagreement. Clearly the guy wanted to supplement
his tips envelope. The result was the exact opposite.
For four hours we milled around the boat, admiring all the different lovely views, and chatting amiably with our new temporary friends. At midday the tour was over and we
only had to wait 45minutes for our bus to pick us up.
Four hours back to Hanoi meant that we arrived just at rush-hour. It was absolute madness. Somehow our bus continued down small streets that were mobbed with scooters carrying orange trees for Tet (their equivalent to a Christmas tree). We were met on the other side of the road of our hotel by the receptionist who basically held our hand as we crossed to the hotel. Tired and sick of the madness, we hid out in our room, ordering a room service dinner.
The 13th of February was Vietnamese New Years Eve. It was like being in a parallel universe as we walked the streets of Hanoi. All the street stalls were closed up, you could actually walk on the footpaths, and it was eerily silent. It was truly enjoyable, although few restaurants were open, so we had to walk a good distance to get our
lunch. At midnight we went up to the roof-top restaurant in our hotel to see the fireworks. It was a wet and dull day, so we couldn't see much. In the interesting through to see that the hotel owner had set up an area to give offering to his ancestors and he was there paying homage to them, willing them to bring him peace and prosperity.
We didn't last long on the roof-top because we were up for a 5.30am taxi to the airport. Given the morning that it was, we had reserved it and reconfirmed it so many times that I thought two might turn up. In the end a scrawny teenage boy turned up in a tiny car and two minutes down the (empty) road we were at a stand still so that he could consult his map.
The lad didn't have a clue where the airport was or how to get there. He didn't speak English so we couldn't converse with him. For a while we were following another taxi, but we lost them as the boy took an independent notion. About five minutes up that road he flagged down a man that was walking
his dog and we were directed back the way we had come from. To describe Philippe as agitated at this point is an understatement. When we headed off away from the river there was smoke pouring out of his ears. I managed to find humour in it, as I knew we were wildly ahead of schedule and our plane wouldn't take off for another three hours. Driving away from the river and then swinging back onto a motorway did the trick, and eventually we piggy backed yet another taxi with luggage in it until we started to see planes taking off. We had already paid for the taxi through the hotel, so we couldn't punish the guy financially, but I found it difficult to thank him as we gathered our luggage to head into the terminal. We were still first in line for our flight to Bangkok!
Flying
Air Asia to Bangkok went by in a flash. We slept for much of it. At Bangkok we didn't have connecting flights so we had to collect our luggage, do immigration and check-in again on the other side. It is a big airport, but everything went without a hitch and soon
we were sitting waiting a gate A31 to board an Air India Express plane to Kolkata to begin another chapter of our travels.
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Eileen
non-member comment
You have great pictures of a beautiful country. I think I'm glad they are not in audio, especially this one.