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Published: November 18th 2011
“Traveling is a brutality. It forces you to trust strangers and to lose sight of all that familiar comfort of home and friends. You are constantly off balance. Nothing is yours except the essential things – air, sleep, dreams, the sea, the sky” – Cesare Pavese
There are 10 million people living in Hanoi, the capital of Vietnam. Half of these inhabitants own a motorbike/moped/motorcycle/scooter – call it what you like. Throw in the couple of million quintessentially Vietnamese bicyclists with the conical hats and facemasks and you have a city which is heaving and buzzing with life and makes crossing the road an art form.
Getting from one side of the street to another is a skill one has to learn early on one’s arrival in this metropolis. Wait patiently at the kerb and you will be standing there for the duration of your sojourn in the country. There are minimal ‘pedestrian crossings’ and so if one tries to navigate by these you would be walking circuitously just to get from a to b.
If you need to cross the road in Hanoi, you take a deep breath and step out into the maelstrom of traffic with the reassurance that with no lane markings, the bikes will veer around you. It takes an enormous amount of courage to do this as it goes against every ‘street-crossing’ rule you have ever learnt in your life. There is no green cross code here.
Each time we came to any kind of major junction, I would yelp with fear as my foot rose from the pavement and hit the tarmac of the road. Often I just shut my eyes with various inappropriate blasphemous curses emitting from my mouth as the bikes balletically swerved to avoid you. But that’s what you do… there is no rationale to it. You cross. They don’t hit you. Simple. I cannot begin to comprehend what it must be like to actually drive a bike in this city. It is an insane place throbbing to the beat of horns.
Although one risked one’s life every time we left our hotel, Hanoi is an infectious place which we totally loved from the moment we disembarked the night train down from Sapa. Having arrived in Lao Cai in the extreme North we discovered there were no tickets left to get us down to the capital – it’s a popular route. Earlier in the day whilst hiking through the mountain hugging H’mong village of Cat Cat (http://www.google.com/search?q=cat+cat+village&hl=en&rls=com.microsoft:en-gb:IE-Address&prmd=imvns&tbm=isch&tbo=u&source=univ&sa=X&ei=bCnGTsm4CuqaiQeZ9bnWDw&ved=0CEQQsAQ&biw=1143&bih=483 ) we had got chatting with an exuberant American who offered us the spare two beds in his sleeper carriage should we get into any problems. Waiting in the dark at the station we kept a watchful eye for Seattle Steve and his wife Shannon. About 30 minutes before the last train of the night was due to depart we saw him sauntering towards the entrance and he stayed good to his word andlet us share his cabin. For the 8hr night journey we clambered into the top bunks and slept to the rocking of the train arriving in the city before dawn.
The noise in Hanoi starts just after sunrise and the traffic crescendos until nightfall. Even then, it is still an aural assault on the senses with streets lined with traders of fruit and Pho Bo (soup with noodles). Basing ourselves in the old town for a few days we explored the winding alleys on foot…through markets selling snake, turtles,and toads – all for oral consumption. Or heaped piles of colourful dragon fruit, giant jack fruit and mangosteen. Areas of the Old city are devoted to certain goods….the religious artefacts street, the metalworkers street, the kids toys street….every turn takes you into a different atmosphere but all with the accompaniment of blaring horns.
Negotiating the infamous Bia Hoi junction where locals and ‘falang’ congregate on child-sized plastic chairs and stools just before dusk to down glasses of homebrew at 5000 dong (about 10p) a pop, is a pilgrimage for any self-respecting Lonely Planet wielding traveller. A convivial place but barely possible to have a conversation due to the incessant honking of hooters and through traffic.
Another key thing to do in Hanoi is to visit the popular water puppet show. This was 45 minutes of extreme auditory discomfort for me. Traditional Vietnamese instruments and singers which sound like whining and dying cats accompany the puppetry which originated in the villages of the Red River Delta in Northern Vietnam, as far back as the 11th century. The shows are performed in a waist-deep pool and a large rod supports the puppet underneath the surface which is used by the puppeteers, (hidden behind a screen), to control them. Hence it ‘appears’ that the puppets are moving over the water. Historically, when the rice fields would flood, the villagers would entertain each other in this way. “Entertain” is obviously a very culturally specific thing. I was not entertained. I was in distress by the music, by the total lack of any kind of legroom in the seats (The Vietnamese are teeny tiny people) and the extremely surreal sight in front of me – of wooden soldiers splashing each other or water spitting dragons. All I can say is I’m glad that there is no water puppet interpretation of Hamlet as I would have felt the need to jump into the pool and drown myself! If you want to see what I mean check out this YouTube vid I found…
Its only 2 minutes so don’t be too alarmed.
One of my mottos for travelling is ‘be open’….especially when it comes to food. If it’s eaten by locals, then why not? I seem to recall trying to describe eating guinea pig (cuy) in Peru as the gastronomic equivalent of a bungee jump. Here in Vietnam, I approached another culinary abyss: I decided to try dog. Yes…dog. As in woof woof. You may have seen the photos already? The skinned grimacing head of a dog, teeth bared – not the most appetizing sight but I decided to give it a go. I have done fat worms in the Amazon, wildebeest in South Africa and grasshopper in Thailand. So why not dog?
On the menu was the choice of grilled dog or boiled dog. I opted for the former (boiled seemed less appealing!) and was served a plate of diced meat fried with macerated galangal on a bed of coriander leaves. It didn’t resemble anything canine which was actually a bit of a relief. It tasted like chicken (organic, cornfed obviously!) but with the texture and meat-to-fat ratio of belly of pork. All in all, not altogether unpleasant but I wouldn’t be ordering again in a rush. Sandy doesn’t share my adventurous epicurean inclinations and opted for noodles and stir-fried vegetables. Suffice to say that neither of us have yet to suffer bowl wise from our food choices so I will continue to taste, to try and to say to myself “why not?”.
Everything about Hanoi is on the move and it can wear you out rapidly. There is the odd moment of tranquility when you step off the street into a temple whose air is filled with smoking incense and the shiny, rotund, bearded faces of statues grinning down at the bobbing heads of praying people. Or the cool climes of the mausoleum where Ho Chi Minh himself lays embalmed, resembling a hologram rather than a real person. Generally speaking though, Hanoi is noise personified. Its song rings in your ears long after you depart. Once you feel you may have acclimatized to the sensory chaos, it’s time to leave. However much as we loved its vibe and atmosphere I honestly think that living there would send you insane (or deaf) very quickly. It was a relief to depart the enthralling city sprawl for the beauty of Halong Bay.
We decided we wanted a few days off from being our own independent tour guides and booked a 3 day, 2 night trip to the world heritage site of Halong Bay. Voted provisionally into 2nd place as one of the new 7 natural wonders of the world (http://www.new7wonders.com/28-finalists ), it is one of Vietnam’s top draws. Advised by numerous people that this was one place where it was wise to book a more upmarket tour as the ‘budget’ ones tend to attract the party wild 20 somethings (and we certainly aint that these days!), we settled with Imperial Cruises (http://halongimperialcruise.vn/index.html ). For 85$ we were collected from the hotel and driven for 3 ½ hrs to Halong City where we boarded the wooden ‘junk’ – our 3 level boat - to take us into the midst of the 3000 jutting limestone karsts that dot the emerald bay.
Leaving the harbor was a scene reminiscent of the Spanish Armada there were so many junks on the move. This was not going to be a commune at peace with nature trip – not with the flotilla of boats cruising out of the bay. We spent the first night on the boat having sailed through the tectonic anarchy of the islands, stopping at a monstrously touristified cave which stretched back deep into the mountain. Watching sunset from the bows of a kayak amidst the geological upheavals of the earth was beautiful and the caves were really spectacular but the queues of tourists traipsing round and the growl of boat engines somewhat detracted from it for me. I had a moment of calm at 5am the following morning when I got up before everyone else to watch the sunrise over the bay. The sky and water changing colour as the sun came up. Lovely.
Things really improved that second day when we sailed further away from the day-trippers and visited the national park of Cat Ba Island. Here I cycled into the village amidst bamboo groves and grazing water buffalo, chillies lay out to dry in the sun and the sumptuous curves of the mountains swept all around. Our second night was in a deluxe bungalow in the Cat Ba Sandy Beach Resort (http://catbasandybeachresort.com/gallery.php )on Nam Cat Island with majestic sunrise views. This was a mere handful of bamboo cabins on a tiny beach where the waters came up to the veranda. It was the epitome of a peaceful paradise and sadly our time there was all too short. :-(
Shuttled back to Hanoi, we transferred straight onto the bus heading south. 4 hours driving took us to Ninh Binh, a town that is featured as one of Vietnam’s highlights. Arriving in the dark at 9pm to a smoke filled sky and a gaping moon, we were wondering what exactly was so special about the place.
We discovered so the following day on the back of motorbikes hired with guides for $8 each. Taken first to Tam Coc just outside of the wasteland that is Ninh Binh, here the Ngo Dong river meanders through shrimp beds and paddy fields with a backdrop of fang shaped limestone karsts.
The only sounds being the slap of oars on the water and the tinkle of the river on the metal hull as our boatman rowed with her feet cutting through expanses of water-lilies and breaking up the reflections of the mountains in the hazy hot air. Dragonflies skimmed the waters, ducks swam in huddled groups and shrimp fishermen waded up to their chests hauling nets through the reedy beds. It was stunning. As were the views from the top of one of the karsts I climbed – 500 breathless steps up to the peak where Quan An (the Goddess of Mercy) stood – her serene gaze cast over the water-logged rice fields. No puppets in sight though, thank god!
That night, after a day of visiting Chinese style pagodas and caves, having eaten a sizzling hot-plate of beef cooked with lemongrass at the table, Sandy and I boarded our “Sleepy Bus” down to Hue in Central Vietnam.
This was a cramped affair with horizontal seats available for every passenger but packed in so tightly it was utterly claustrophobic. Being the last to board the bus (it travels from Hanoi to Hue every night) we were made to take the back beds which had no headroom at all. It felt like we were collectively entombed. Hovering above the wheels of the bus we felt every bump in the 10 hour journey down the Ho Chi Minh highway. This truly was brutal travelling. I shoved my earplugs in, my face mask on and shared out my super strength Stugeron (anti motion sickness pills I got for the crossing of the Drake Passage to Antarctica). They really knock you out ;-)
Vietnam has definitely grown on me since first impressions but it still hasn’t captivated me like Laos or my time in Thailand. We have had some incredible experiences here so far (and many more to come) but it is not an easy place. You are indeed constantly off balance here. Yet it has a charm to it that hasn’t yet been smoothed out like in Thailand. I would have liked to continue further south than our next stop – Hoi An - but in a few days I will be heading inland back into Southern Laos to meet my friend Andy who is flying out for a month to travel with me. Sandy is undecided still as to where her journey goes next. Although we were going to carry on together to the 4000 Islands of Laos, she has just discovered that changing her ticket to fly home to Germany earlier than anticipated (in order to then come onto Central America with me), may be prohibitively expensive. If that’s the case, she may very well stay in Vietnam and go on to Myanmar from Ho Chi Minh. :-(
I wait with bated breath as neither of us want this magical adventure to end. Tonight we raise a glass of Dalat wine to our trip so far, appreciating the small things like hot water, clean clothes and no flooded paddy fields.
Happy Days. :-)
Han x
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PaulandPauline
Paul & Pauline
Brilliant writing, really enjoying your travel stories. Hard not to laugh though!