Last Hurrahs in Hanoi

Hanoi is our last stop in Vietnam and South East Asia. We decide to treat ourselves to a nice hotel, as probably the last chance we’ll be able to do so for cheap. We prioritise somewhere with a pool and a gym as we’re both craving doing some exercise after being too hot to even stand still the last few months. The compromise is that our room doesn’t have a window. Who needs natural light anyway… or so James tells me.

We are greeted by a bell-hop at the door, given cool towels, a welcome drink, and a full introduction to the hotel. Amazing what a few extra pounds can get you in SE Asia. We’re informed they’ve even given us a free room upgrade to a room with a window, which makes me very happy when we get to the room and natural light streams in.

We enjoy some banh-mi sandwiches and a steak, egg, chips and cheese medley in a place styled like Santorini.

Hanoi is busy, but the swarms of scooters are nothing like in Ho Chi Minh, at least in the area we are staying. We’re also among familiar tourist company, as hotels, massage parlors, cafes and street food line every street on every block. I start a game of pavement or [insert what the pavement is used for instead] as we spend most of the time walking in the road as pavements are overladen with anything and everything, as a free extension of whatever trade opens onto it. That evening we check out the pool and gym. James has a round on the boxing bag, whilst I nervously step on the treadmill unsure how much my body has deteriorated in the last couple of months. I should have more faith in it. Not only do I find the (enforced) pace comfortable, I’m able to actually enjoy it for half an hour. It feels really good to have a workout and sweat from exertion rather than just the ambient temperature, there’s something very different to it, endorphins probably help! Nothing like a break from running to remind you how much you can enjoy it.

Dinner is a traditional Bun Cha dish which is some skewered pork, pork dumplings in a soup, a big plate of noodles, with fresh leaves. James is feeling a bit under the weather so we hope this homely soupy dish will sort him out.

Walking Tour

We’ve decided to do an old favourite, a free walking tour. Our guide today is Emma, she’s from Ninh Binh and is cute, smiley, bubbley, big energy, and speaks great English. Her tour takes us around the Old Quarter, and she fills in a few final blanks we’ve had from our time in Vietnam. A great end to our time here.

We start at a monument to the people. Atypically for Western cultures, there is a woman here too, showing that when enemies come, women must and will fight too. Go feminism. The man in the middle holds a stick in his hand with a bomb st the end of it, it’s a suicide bomb, and was often used as the only way to fight against tanks, showing that the people are so determined for independence, they will sacrifice their lives own lives for it.

We move along to Turtle Lake (its English-language name). There’s another monument, this time to the pen and the art of calligraphy. The ink pot is separate from the statue, because when the sun comes up at a certain time of year, 15th may, the shadow of the pen will meet the pot.

In the lake there were two giant turtles, 1m wide, the last one died in 2016 and they are preserved inside the museum. The oldest turtle was 200 years old. In English this lake is called Turtle Lake, but in Vietnamese, it is called Sword Lake after the following story. There was a lake king who had a precious sword, one day, a giant turtle came up in front of his boat, and he gave this turtle his sword to look after it. The turtle took the sword to the bottom of the lake. There is now a temple in honour of the turtle and those that came after it.

Pagodas have mandarin symbols because of Chinese rule in this area. Historically the people here spoke Chinese. But when the Portuguese came here, they found it too hard to read and understand, so they made the Vietnamese alphabet that is written like the latin alphabet, but with extra accents and lines to indicate the tonation, to recreate the Chinese words but in the latin alphabet. Now, learning English is the second language to learn here, not Mandarin or Cantonese. Emma tries to teach us how to say certain words, like the famous noodle soup Pho, which can mean road or prostitute depending how you pronounce it. Apparently you pronounce the O with a squiggly tone, like a question mark. Still no clue, other than to just point at the word rather than attempt to say it!

Time for some quick-fire learning…

Ha Noi = city inside river. The red river comes from china. Vietnam = historically were the people of the south of China.

We find out the five colour flag we’ve seen across the country actually represents the five elements, wood, fire, earth, metal, and water. They have them up for festivities, so they’re up a lot this week because of Reunification Day.

We have seen people burning things in the street. Emma explains these are offerings to send money or cars or any good to their ancestors. So you can buy wedges of fake notes, or paper versions of items you want to send to your ancestors. These offerings heighted during full moons. They show respect and honouring ancestors. This all seems very similar to the burning of items in the altiplano! Incredibly how completely disparate cultures come up with the same ideas. It’s also another reminder of how little we do to remember our own ancestors in England compared to other cultures.

But also, if they don’t send these things to their ancestors, they could suffer from the “hungry ghosts”. Or maybe angry ghosts. Or just hangry, who knows!

Vietnam was an agricultural country, they worshipped gods of nature to get full crops. Now, 70% are athiest.

In 2016, Vietnam received UNESCO recognition for their intangible heritage in practices related to the Viet beliefs in the Mother Godesses of Three Realms. This is one of the few places in the world with female gods. The people are considered the children of the female gods.

Pagoda is for buddhas. Temples are for kings and queens.

Incense connects land with the heaven/sky.

Crane on turtle statue, one seen all over. Represents yin and yang, a symbol of taoism. The turtle is stability, grounding, the crane is freedom, detached from the events of life. Around this is a winding lotus flower, which is a symbol of buddishm. It is a mishmash of religions.

There are 7m scooters/bikes, and 9m people. Emma half-jokes that the pavement is for parking, the road for walking. By comparison, there are 12m people in Ho Chi Minh City.

Tax is based on the width of your house, which is why buildings are so thin and tall.

Old houses had iron bars to protect from burglars, but also meant you couldn’t escape from fires, which happened quite often with all the wooden buildings, temples and pagodas.

There are 1m people in old quarter alone.

Vietnam had 2000 years of feudalism, then 100 years of French.

50% of surnames are Nguyen, named after the last emperor, based in Hue. This was the last dynasty of Vietnam, which ended in 1945. People would change their names voluntarily or by threat to whomever was the new emperor.

In 1945, Ho Chi Minh (another Nguyen) started the new country of Vietnam free from emperors and the French. Sept 2nd 1945 was their independence day.

Amongst the food ‘oddities’ are red jellyfish. They aren’t naturally red though, they are dyed that colour, because red brings good luck. Emma tells us that everything gets eaten here, there’s no waste. They eat the brains of animals because they think it will make them smarter.

We bimble along to “Eiffel tower bridge” that is now over 100 years old. It actually has no link to Eiffel, other than the French built it, and it has a similar style, except lying flat.

Jumping forward to 1986 and the world economic crisis. Due to this, Vietnam had to open up the economy, changing from its previous centralised economy. It was now open to foreign investment, and why we see so many foreign brands here today.

The “Vietnam War” was (according to Emma) a war between Soviets and Allies, Vietnam just caught in the middle and was the unfortunate territory for the factions to battle it out. Something we’ve seen happen over and over since, sadly.

Waiting on a Train

That evening we head to the aptly named ‘Train Street’. It’s where a train track runs through the city, and a bunch of bars and cafes open up onto said train track. We’ve been warned by Emma that now you have to be “invited” into a cafe or bar before being allowed in here. Apparently due to “accidents”. Now, maybe it’s our ever-growing cynicism in this country, but this seems a rather convenient way to fleece tourists of money instead of letting them come and take photos of a train for free. Thankfully the beers actually aren’t that expensive, so we sit, and we wait.

7pm passes us by, but a train does not. The next scheduled train is apparently 7:45. We wait. No train. We have more beers. Time ticks on. People who have been here longer than us, give up and leave.

We wait. People arrive, waiters assure them a train is coming in 15 minutes… we’ve unfortunately learnt not to trust these sales pitches.

But, to our surprise, suddenly a bell rings out and it’s bedlam. The bar staff yell at everyone to get behind the line. An Australian ignores her, repeatedly. She’s just trying to stop us getting hit by a train and/or getting this whole chaos-centre that provides so many livelihoods shut down, but let’s not let that get in the way of the man’s photo! Eventually the crowds obey their orders as the train slowly cruises past, and the tourists whoop, cheer and applaud the one car train. How easily pleased we are!

All Killer, No Filler

A burgeoning cold James has been in denial about for the last couple of days now takes full hold and knocks him for six. He’s going nowhere today. I’ve seen what else there is to do here on my previous trip, so I’m happy just having a day to rest in the hotel, getting banh mi from the same place, third time in a row, snoozing, doing a long, slow, yoga stretch session, and catching up on the to-do list. I’m still owed a glass of wine I had been craving for my birthday back in Hanoi, but was too poorly to claim, so James has found us a couple of bars to try out.

Wandering around in the evening, I notice all these tiny little doorways leading into the back, that will take you up to a second floor bar. Styled like a trendy bar, above a tacky souvenir or tour shop. You’d never notice them if you weren’t looking! Our first stop is one such bar, we could have been transported to a London speakeasy. We order a couple of drinks on happy hour from the joyful bartender also celebrating his birthday.

After this, we head over to a wine bar, but as we walk in and are seated, we realise this is more restaurant than bar. Well, I suppose it can’t hurt to just look at the menu…Inside there’s a glorious array of French Alps food, including raclette and fondue. We do a quick check of the budget and decide we can have a final slight splurge on a raclette and large salad, alongside two glasses of wine. It’s been a long time since we’ve had decent cheese, even longer since we’ve had wine, so this is a real treat for our taste buds and soulds. Oh happiness! What a joyous end to our time here.

Final Tick-Boxing

Our flight to Japan isn’t until 1:20am tonight, and to stay any longer in the hotel room costs money, so we put our new highly trained skill into practice, of killing time! Thankfully, we’ve got a bunch of things I still want to do before we head off. Unluckily for James, he’s still feeling pretty rotten, and the heat of Hanoi means resting on the loungers on the rooftop can only be sustained for so long. So, time for the final smash and grab. First stop is to see the famed water puppet show. We get an audio-guide, assuming it’ll translate the screeching Vietnamese. It does not. It explains some of the context of the fables depicted in the water, but really, you could probably just figure this out and enjoy the show and music without it. It’s cute, well done, at times a bit magical, and always beautiful.

Next up, a magnet, easily acquired around these parts! There are even countless souvenirs dedicated to Totoro! Time for some last coffee for me. Where usually I can’t stomach the bitter taste, I’ve highly enjoyed the various types of accompaniments to the bitter Vietnamese coffee, such as coconut, condensed milk, cream and other sugary, sweet, milky additions.

We’ve then decided to try out a foot massage at one of the many massage parlors. We’ve never had one before, but seeing the joy it gave Jeremy Clarkson on the old Vietnam episode of Top Gear, we’re keen to give it a try whilst it still costs a couple of quid! It’s totally worth it. We even get pummelled with tiny plastic hammers. James relaxes for a bit, and we hope the massage releases some of his illness. With no more cash, no more boxes left to tick, and a worn out James, we decide to just head to the airport.

Shaken not Stirred

After killing as much time as possible in Hanoi city, we make our way to the airport to kill some more time before our 1:20am flight. Thankfully, once more, we can drop our bags off hours in advance. Why can’t we do this in Europe?!

We try and get a nap in on the rows of seats, but it’s just not happening. Exhausted we board, and find ourselves on literally the last row of seats on the plane. Not only that, our row is infront of the toilets, so not only can we not recline our seats, but our leg room is significantly cut off compared to our row-buddies on the other side of the plane. We can’t always have good luck eh. We hope the lights will be dimmed so we can eke out as much sleep from this four hour flight, but of course the budget airline has money to be made, so the lights stay on whilst they tout their food and drinks through the aisle. Eventually they finish and dim the lights, and we doze off…

… to be rudely awoken by some of the worst turbulence either of us have ever experienced. As much as I try and reassure myself that the back of the plane is the worst for it and it’s probably not as bad as it feels, seeing a man come back from the toilet flung from side to side even in the middle brings back the harsh reality that this really is one bumpy ride. Thoughts of Malaysia flight 370 pop into my head as I plead for the turbulence to stop, but it doesn’t. After what seems like forever, we eventually make it through the bumps. I guess we won’t be sleeping on this flight after all.

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Adventure – exploring Old Town, finding little streets everywhere, a bit like London

Excitement – finding raclette on a menu, having my first wine in a long time

Trauma – the worst plane ride, misbehaving kids at the puppet show, yet another terrible leg wax experience, a very poorly James