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Published: April 28th 2005
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A word of advice - if you are ever considering how best to undertake the journey from Vientiane, Laos to Hanoi, Vietnam; I have one word for you: FLY! Even the dubious pleasures of Lao Aviation (who's ancient soviet planes dont have any electronic guidance systems, fly by sight, and co-incidentaly dont publish their safety record) must be preferable to the journey we took.
Starting at 5am, the first section was from Vientiane (a capital city, dont forget) to a remote rural town, where we were told we could get a connecting bus over the border. The first leg was in a bus that was so old, it looked like something out of the Flintstones. The rough, bumpy, hot and cramped 9 hour journey went by very slowly - although we did have the distraction of being under constant attack from small children! This being the Lao new year, they took the oppurunity of a bus passing their village to throw buckets of water and fire water pistols at any open window. But since we were travelling so slowly, they often had time to reload!
Once at the no-where town, we found there were no buses to the border that
day, but we managed to sit in the back of a converted pick-up truck for the 2 hour winding drive. no protection this time from the water assault that came now from every other vehicle on the road.
Eventually at the border, (on the top of a remote mountain pass) and into Vietnam. Minus a couple of mysterious $1 "fees" that we were charged, we then set about our next task, of bartering for a lift to the nearest town. The Vietnamese, unlike Laons, are good at bartering - v.good. After an hour of debating, we found our way into a cramped minibus full of fridges and rice, and at dusk, arrived in a small provincial town. After the tragic comedy of trying to find something to eat in a town where not a word of english was spoken (we eventually got some v.good noodle soup), we got on another bus towards Vinh. After the evil little shit of a conductor tried to change the price of our ticket once on board (the little sod later; unbeknown to me, liberated my mobile phone from my bag) a large argument ensued, during which the long tiring journey eventually got to
me, and I threatened to throw him out of the window. This ended the argument.
Once in Vinh, and a motorcycle taxi ride later, we were at the station, and eventually on our way on the night train to Hanoi.
Arriving at 4.30am, we then endured 2 horrible hours of trying to sleep in the station over the din of the Communist propaganda that is blared out over loudspeakers at 5am here. Eventually we lugged our bags onto our backs and headed off to find a hotel. But having a backpack on here is just a sign that says "bother me". We were accosted my touts, cajouled, pushed and generally hassled. One guy in particular persisted in trying to sell his particular hotel (in a different part of town to where we wanted to stay) and after 15 minutes of polite refusals, we tried some not so polite ones. After a few "Just F*ck off and leave us alone"s, he still wouldnt leave - anyway, to cut a long story short, he started to get very pushy,
literally, and even threatened to hit Rachael, so we ended up having a bit of a fight. Which he lost.
I'm really
not proud of this, he was just trying to do his job and I hereby apologise to the people of Vietnam. But he was aggressive and arrogant (any other time, we could have been friends!), and I was very tired and ratty, and I'm not good in the mornings at the best of times... hence my previous advice to fly. It wasnt NOT a case of 'Good Morning, Vietnam!"
After this, we just collapsed into the nearest hotel and after a horrible 26 hour journey, finally slept. Still, it's joureys like those that make backpacking interesting!
Once refreshed, we found Hanoi to be a hectic, noisy city, but not without charm. The Old Quarter has lots of character, decent French cafes, there are some lovely ancient temples, the tomb of Ho Chi Minh, and the famous old prison, named the "Hanoi Hilton" by American POWs. And there are quite a few motorbikes.. in fact LOADS of motorbikes. There are around 2.5million mopeds in this city alone. This means crossing any street is an ordeal. Basically you need to summon the courage, step out, and let them see you, and dont stop - the sea of Hondas miraculously parts!
Aside from this, and the incessant cries of "meeeester - moto taxi?" and "you come and buy from meeeeeee??" Hanoi is not an unpleasant place at all.
After a couple of days in Hanoi, we headed on an overnight train up north, to the Chinese Border, and to the mountain town of Sapa. This cool, misty hill station is surrounded by rice paddies, and the indiginous hill tribes of the region. Still sporting their traditional dress, the women of the villages now spend their days bugging tourists to buy their handicrafts, blankets, and any other old stuff they can sell. They are masters of using their lovely cute children to sell stuff as well. The constant hounding makes for a bit of a tragic farce, and you do sometimes feel as if you're in a tourist circus - but on the other hand, the men of the villages are still working the rice paddies, the scenery is stunning, and the trekking through the basic homesteads was well worth while.
Back into Hanoi on a reasonably comfortable night train, we headed straight for the stunning coastline of Halong Bay. Vietnams biggest tourist attraction, apparently, this is a series of
thousands of limestone islands and rock formations scattered around a turquiose bay, some 3 hours south of Hanoi.
Staying the night on a junk, it was a really lovely and relaxing way of spending a couple of days - caves to explore, cool water to swim in, and a deck on our boat's roof to sunbathe on! The other advantage of being on a boat is being able to avoid the drinks sellers and tourist tat merchants. It can be overbearing at times, and almost India-like. Especially frustrating is having to haggle for EVERYTHING. At least in India small things like drinking water and fruit from street stalls were purchased easily at their proper price, but here, it's an ongoing battle - the first quoted price is usually at least twice of what you should pay, and they haggle really hard - so imagine repeating this process 10 times a day for a whole assortment of purchases.. no wonder we're feeling a bit jaded! I think coming over from Laos (probably THE most relaxed and laid back country on earth), this sudden jolt of aggressive capitalism took us by surprise!
anyway, enough moaning.. once back from Halong Bay, we
were off southbound, to the cultural and geographical centre of the country. Hue is the ancient seat of the Nguyen kings - the monarchy of Vietnam until WWII. Their tombs and places are scattered around the outskirts of the city, which sits on the scenic Perfume River. Since the concept of a royal family was rather odious to the Communist regime, these ruins have been completely neglected until about 10 years ago, when the tourist trade rescued them from becoming blown up and turned into government owned fish-sauce factories.
As a result, they have a faded, overgrown tranquility to them, and we spent a hot lazy day zooming about on a motorbike exploring them.
Hue was also the site of some fierce fighting during the Vietnam War, and we took a full day trip to explore the former de-militarized zone (DMZ) - featuring the rusting remains of some old American combat bases, the site of the huge battle at Khe Sanh, the site of the Ho Chi Minh trail (used to supply the Vietcong from the North), the DMZ zone itself on the 17'th parallel, and most interestingly, some hot, deep, dark and cramped tunnels where villagers
used to take refuge from the onslaught of American bombs, and the North Vietnamese used to store munitions. Although many of the sights arent really much to look at anymore,and it was a long 12 hour day to see a few lumps of rusting metal and some tunnels, Rach (probably rightly) described our DMZ tour as "boring" but for a saddo war statto like me, it certainly was quite an atmospheric experience. especially since I'm currently reading about 3 books about the confict.
And so with some culture under out belts, we were now in South Vietnam proper - below the 17'th parallel - and heading further south, to the city of Hoi An.
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