Advertisement
Published: November 28th 2012
Edit Blog Post
Dawn at the Lake
Early morning exercise. The night bus ride to Hanoi was interesting to say the least. I'd never seen a bus with three columns of metal bunk beds before. Although actually, I'm being generous using the word beds, as they were too narrow and short even for our small frames. Add in some defeating Vietnamese karaoke videos, Vietnamese driving and the almost continuous sounding of the horn, and it wasn't the most sleep friendly of environments.
Vietnamese guesthouses and hotels have almost universally allowed us to check in immediately on arrival, but on this occasion 5am was a little too early and we had hang on until 9-ish. Usually, tired from a night bus, this time would have dragged, but it's a credit to Hanoi that, walking around the Old Quarter at the crack of dawn was a pretty pleasurable experience. Strolling around the lake was particularly interesting. Vast numbers of people, particularly the elderly, were out exercising by the water's edge. Either in groups or individually, they were there stretching, dancing, playing badminton or doing tai chi. For many, the activity was hardly strenuous, but as much as for fitness purposes, it seemed that the dawn exercise was a chance for many
Room View
Less than $10. people to meet socially at the start of the day. The energy of their interactions did much to negate our feelings of drowsiness.
Having eventually checked in, slept, and then had another walk around Hanoi, our impressions continued to be overwhelmingly positive. Here was a city bursting at the seams with character. The sort of place that, without necessarily filling each day with activities, you easily spend the best part of a week, soaking up its exotic charms.
It's oft repeated, but the first thing that hits you about Hanoi is the motorbikes. To say they're everywhere doesn't really do it justice. The whole city is enveloped in an often defeaning buzz of two-stroke engines, and puny horns. Crossing the road is to take a deep breath and hope that the riders whom you are stepping out in front of have had their ice coffees that morning. To wait for a gap would be to wait forever.
It was also hard not to be impressed by the sheer volume of food options on offer. Street food that actually looked edible was on every corner. Over the course of our time in Hanoi, Sophie
Wing Walking
Hanoi Army Museum. and I had about every version of Pho going, plus some local spring rolls made up of ground shrimp and mushrooms. They were really good, as was the sauce that came with them, made up of beetle excrement or something. If I'm mentioning food, I have to mention drink. Specifically Bia Hoi (fresh beer). Virtually every street stall offers a limited (when it's gone, it's gone) supply of Bia Hoi every late afternoon or evening. Usually just one keg. What's great about it is the cost: around 5000d (15p), and the process of just sitting out on the street, on tiny little plastic chairs, watching Hanoi life go past. Often you're so close to the action that you genuinely have to dodge swerving motorbikes, but it was all part of the fun.
The next thing to hit me about Hanoi was, thankfully, not a bike, but the impression that we were finally entering the more mainstream travellers route. Sapa had hinted at it, and finally, after a month in China, here it was. Or rather here they were: The gap year crew. There were points in China where I thought we couldn't wait to get amongst the kids
Cut Throat Shave
My life in his hands. again. Perhaps that though was more a reaction to China's occasional dearth of social opportunity. For, as Sophie and I tentatively searched out Hanoi Backpackers for a few drinks on our opening night in Hanoi, we suddenly felt a bit older, and a bit disconnected from the 18 year olds playing drinking games left, right and centre. It was a notion that we had to analyse in more detail than we would normally, because we had to come to a decision as to which trip to Halong Bay to go on. If you can handle the suspense, I'll cover our eventual Halong Bay trip in the next entry.
Hanoi was of course the capital of North Vietnam, and thanks to their eventual victory in the war, is now the capital of unified Vietnam. As a result (to my excitement, Sophie's less so) the city is not short of historical sights. For example, we visited HOA LO prison, known to American POWs as the Hanoi Hilton. Much of the prison has since been demolished, and what is left is not particularly evocative of what it would have been like. However as a museum it isn't bad. It concentrates predominantly
My View
Written while flaking out in the 4+ hour queue to get into Thailand. on the prison's time as a French institution, incarcerating Vietnamese rebels. A smaller section is devoted to its housing of American pilots in the 70's, containing John McCain's flight suit for example. Amusingly, but not surprisingly, the exhibits paint a dreadful picture of the French colonial prison, but suggest that the Vietnamese treated the Americans with the upmost of respect and comfort. Captured pilots have since suggested otherwise.
Hanoi also houses the embalmed remains of Ho Chi Minh, in a mausoleum that seemingly borrows most of its inspiration from Lenin's Moscow mausoleum. Sophie and I's hope of the communist leader corpse trilogy of Lenin, Mao and Ho had already been stifled by Mao's unavailability when we were in Beijing, and similarly in Hanoi, unfortunately Uncle Ho was away (presumably in Russia) for a touch up. Alas, we consoled ourselves in the scenic grounds of the Presidential compound, and then went to the downright weird Ho Chi Minh museum.
Our time in Halong Bay was punctuated by our trip to Halong Bay. On our return to the capital we had a much needed relaxing evening going to see Skyfall. The Vietnamese enjoyed it almost as much as I did, although they seem to share the Chinese habit of constantly talking.
The day final day in Hanoi yielded probably my favourite museum of the trip that far. Hanoi's army museum is pretty dry in terms of exhibits, however outside are parked loads of military aircraft from the war. Not only did they not mind people getting right up to them, but they had also positioned stairs over most the aircraft so you could virtually climb on the wing. It's safe to say Sophie didn't appreciate the planes in the sweltering heat as much as I did though.
That afternoon we had a few hours to kill prior to catching the night train to Hue, so I took the chance and got my hair cut: By some bloke out in the street who had set up a mobile barber chair obviously. It proved a savvy call. For barely a pound I got a tidy lid cut and a cut throat shave. Although, when he had the razor to my neck, the motorcycles riding past on the pavement were a bit disconcerting.
I write this as we enter our fourth hour in the queue on the Thai - Cambodian border, in the baking sun. The upside of this absolute shambles is that I might get another blog written. Stay tuned!
Advertisement
Tot: 0.073s; Tpl: 0.01s; cc: 9; qc: 40; dbt: 0.048s; 1; m:domysql w:travelblog (10.17.0.13); sld: 1;
; mem: 1.1mb
Ben. Hingley
non-member comment
Yet another cracking blog. Keep them coming.