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Published: February 16th 2009
Greetings!
Here's the rundown on our time in Hanoi and Northern Vietnam, before we crossed the border into southwestern China late last week.
When we arrived in Hanoi, the city was immersed in Tet New Year preparations. We spent most of our time in Old Town, where traffic in the already narrow, scooter-choked alleys was regularly brought to a standstill by Tet shoppers cruising the storefronts at a mall-shopper's pace and leaving their rides in the street while running in to buy presents (knee-high boots and rip-off "Ligos" were hot commodities) and buffalo-themed red and gold decorations. We also kept seeing the holiday's principal home decoration--either a blossoming peach tree or fully-fruited orange tree--speeding past us, usually with the scooter it was strapped to obscured in a scrum of other scooters--giving the impression that the trees had uprooted themselves and were on the run from the Minute Maid man.
Despite the frenzy, on our first day we visited: (1) The Temple of Literature, which housed Vietnam's central university for seven hundred years, and which honors the 1,306 people who managed to pass oral doctoral exams administered and graded by the emperor during that time on plaques
held aloft by giant stone turtles that sit like a mustered reptilian army on either side of a pond in the ornate central courtyard; (2) Ho Chi Mihn's tomb, where Uncle Ho lies perpetually in state inside an honor-guarded stadium-sized granite mausoleum in an eery, perfectly preserved condition; and (3) Hoa Lo Prison, a/k/a the Hanoi Hilton (although not to be confused with the Hilton that's now right up the road), which housed captured American pilots during the war, where we toured old cells and rooms of photos that made the place look questionably like a college dorm--100% showed smiling POW's getting mail, eating Christmas dinner, playing the guitar etc.--and where we got the distinct impression while viewing McCain's bed and flight suit that the museum staff were really rooting for him in November. The following day we did a walking tour of Old Town in the reverse direction suggested by our Lonely Planet guidebook, eventually tucking away the book's confusing map and relying instead on westerners coming towards us with their Lonely Planets outstretched and frustrated faces to know that we were on the right course through city streets still segregated according to the goods being sold there, with
entire blocks dedicated to candy, clothes, tin products, blacksmith products (oh the Anvils we saw), electronics, mirrors, Buddhist iconography, knives, herbs, pastries, sundries, meat, and vegetables.
At night, we ate more yummy Vietnamese street food, including Hanoi's speciality, Cha Ca--which is catfish soaked in garlic and ginger that you cook over coals at your table (careful!), and eat in a bowl of noodles, dill, green onions and chili. We then usually strolled over to "Bia Hoi Junction" to drink more $0.15 cent beer at an intersection where all four corners feature storefronts stacked full of kegs and beer-drinking customers sitting on plastic chairs all over the sidewalk and street. It was a great place to watch the world go by, with a constant flow of peddlers selling donuts and extremely popular dried squid pounded into oblivion and cooked over coals, kids selling photocopied books for a dollar, dolled-up Vietnamese woman effortlessly downshifting their scooters in five inch heels as they came through the intersection, and groups of social travelers and locals, including a Scottish kid traveling around the world who told us that every bus ride he's been on in India and Asia has seemed remarkably safe and
short since his 84 hour Greyhound trip from New York to the Grand Canyon.
From Hanoi, we took an overnight sleeper train north to Sapa. Inexplicably, the train departed at 7:00 p.m. and arrived at 4:30 a.m., a scheduling SNAFU that guaranteed us a poor night's sleep. But on the plus side, our early fears about bad cabin-mates in our four-bunk birth proved unfounded when we were joined by a nice Vietnamese couple--whose fears about their cabin-mates were likely confirmed when Anna had to shush Jub during the night to keep him from humming along to "High School Musical" on his iPod (this sentence was written under duress).
Set high in the mountains of northern Vietnam, Sapa's big draws are its gorgeous scenery and the dozen-odd minority tribes living in small villages throughout the area. We set out hiking to one such village on our first day, and were quickly joined by a friendly group of Black H'Mong woman who offered (in broken English) to show us the way--hoping we might browse their handicrafts upon arrival, of course. And so off we went with our native guides--the oldest joking that the walk would take an hour
longer with us in tow, and the youngest with a tiny baby strapped to her back--traversing fields along a narrow path for about three hours until we rounded a bend and the path opened into a picture-perfect terraced valley with a small village in the center. From there, we dropped $10 on scarves and a bag (now in Santa's possession) and took leave of our guides to wander aimlessly, watching workers in the field and practicing English with some girls on their way home from school. Walking on, we entered the adjoining Red D'Zao village, where the woman were decked out in their traditional red head pieces and shaved eyebrows, and where we took in an intense game of marbles (played with stones) while admiring the freshly planted rice paddies in front of us and a gently swaying bamboo forest stretching up into the mountains behind us.
The following three days, we hooked up with a guide and driver so we could explore a little further afield. They first took us west over Vietnam's highest mountain pass to the Thursday market at Binh Lu, which was teeming with members of different tribal groups who had come to town for
the day decked out in their traditional outfits, including: the Lu with black head wraps and teeth blackened from years of chewing a special bark; the brightly colored Thai; and the Black D'zao who were super-friendly to us, and who wore rope and tin head pieces--either with or without a huge, slightly intimidating black hood. From the market, we drove an hour down a dirt road, to an un-touristed Lu village where we preserved our guide's ties with a town elder by doing shots of rice wine with him and his buddies. We then strolled around, checking out the town's stilt houses, taking Polaroid portraits for a few smiling families, and deciding not to correct the fact that almost every villager to greet us did so by saying "Bye Bye." The following day we drove four hours east and spent the night at a hotel in Bac Ha--venturing out for dinner after the staff began playing "Crazy Frog" on repeat in the restaurant--so we would be in striking distance for the nearby Can Cau Saturday market. Can Cau is a big weekly gathering point for the Flower H'Mong, who are known for their brightly colored, multi-patterned dresses. When Saturday broke
with a steady drizzle we feared they either wouldn't show, or would all be wearing raincoats instead of their dresses. Instead, (and of course!) when we arrived at the market grounds in the middle of a steep, terraced valley, hundreds of Flower H'Mong were there, decked out resplendently, and each carrying a similarly kaleidoscopic umbrella. We lingered at the market for several thoroughly impressive hours, buying necessities like bootleg grain alcohol and glutenous rice cakes before taking a short hike through another valley hamlet en route to catching our train back to Hanoi.
We arrived back in Hanoi on Tet eve, and celebrated with a nice dinner at a restaurant where Bill and Hillary ate last time they were in town, and where one menu item read "Our staff tells you that you are beautiful all night ---- $5". Afterwards, we caught the fireworks display with a couple hundred thousand Vietnamese around the laser-lit shores of Hoàn Kim lake, where we made like locals and bought up Year of the Buffalo balloons and a big bowed sugar-cane stalk. The latter of which we used to decorate our room for the next few days, as we laid low while the city
shut down, allowing us to sort through the roughly seven thousand pictures we've taken to date, catch up on some reading, and watch a newly-sleeved Nadal take down Federer, yet again.
Rested, we drove east for an overnight boat trip on Halong Bay--Vietnam's number one tourist attraction. After fighting our way through some impressive crowds to reach our boat, we lazed on deck in the sunshine with a great couple from Hong Kong, as the crowds on shore drifted out of sight, and hundreds of jagged, tree-covered granite outcroppings began piercing through the otherwise placid water at regular intervals. It was truly a majestic sight, and very peaceful at the same time, with our boat's engine just a slight gurgle through the afternoon. In the morning we briefly disembarked and paddled through a floating fishing village and under a sweeping rock archway, before slowly heading back to shore, and back to Hanoi one last time, to catch our flight to China.
Thanks to everyone for reading, if you made it this far! Stay tuned for stories from China, where both the scenery and the number of layers needed to enjoy it has been impressive.
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Kathy Sortun
non-member comment
Vietnam
Makes me want to go back there!!! Thanks for the fabulous update and pictures.