Hanoi

As I'm coming to appreciate on this trip, cities have certain immutable - and often tiresome - features in common: they smell, they're noisy and they're full of people who can't wait to get where they're going! It's an inevitable fact when you fly from destination to destination, that you find yourself at the mercy of one of these sinkholes of humanity. So it's with some satisfaction that I can now look forward to three months of overland travel throughout Indochina. Of course, I'll still be making forays into cities - but now entirely by choice.
I hope I haven't implied through my little rant that Hanoi is a particularly awful place - compared to Seoul and Manila it's actually quite pleasant, but two days is wearing enough after my idyllic time on Lugbung. For a start the traffic is like nothing I've ever seen...not insanely dangerous so much as grating on the nerves. After a day you realise it's both pointless and dangerous to try and wait for a clear gap in the traffic and run across the road. For a start there is never a gap in the traffic...and if it ever seems like there is, you can guarantee a high-speed moped appearing from nowhere and beeping its horn close enough to perforate your eardrum. You simply saunter out into the road and proceed at a slow and steady pace to your destination - often walking along the middle of the street is the only option, with so many mopeds parked on the pavements. As you saunter (sucking in your breath a little to avoid the old dears with their baskets and clenching your buttocks to avoid the wing mirrors) the traffic miraculously parts around you, using every part of the highway, pavement and gutter to full effect. There appear to be no laws governing which side of the road you ride/drive on, none to place any limits on speed nor to stop when the lights are red. As far as I can tell the only rules are to beep your horn continuously for any and no reason and to get out of the way of anything bigger than you...this works pretty well for me as there aren't many mopeds plus driver that get to be my size - and the denizens of Hanoi are smart enough to work out that mowing me down is going to cost them. I didn't see one accident during my time in Hanoi and the haphazard chaos at every juncti0n and crossroads seemed to have an almost organic fluidity that allowed everyone to pass without too much obstruction. The only downside is the constant ringing your years develop after being assaulted by a daily battery of horns, ranging from the irksome to the comical (theme tune to Only Fools and Horses, anyone?) and from foghorn to piercing. Visitors to Hanoi seem to develop a form of shellshock induced by moped horns...one can only hope its not a precursor to a full-blown PTSD by the time I get to the DMZ!
So, apart from the traffic, what does Hanoi have to offer? Well, unusually for me, food was top of the list of attractions. There are two things you can't avoid whilst wondering the streets of Hanoi - the ubiquitous Xe Mo driver offering you a ride on the back of his motorbike and the countless street-food stalls spilling out of every doorway. Everywhere you look, someone has entered the catering trade with nothing more than a bunsen burner or a tray of hot charcoal and an exotic array of vegetables and herbs surrounding a tray of animal parts. Chicken feet, cow's heart, dried squid, pig guts, fish heads t0 name a few...as well as dubious looking piles of recognisably edible cuts. For a little more than 50pence, even a man of my considerable appetites can satisfy himself on tasty, filling snacks that appear in the twinkling of a goat's eye. I like vietnamese food well enough back in Blighty - imagine my horror at being surrounded by myriad opportunities to consume from the minute I get up until my head hits the pillow. If the profusion of bunsen-burner hot-food stalls don't appeal, it takes little effort to be pestered by one of the old dears carrying double-ended baskets of fresh fruit or donuts. One almost feels compelled to eat something from them just to lessen the horrendous weights they seem to casually sling over their shoulders as they pace the gutters, dodging mopeds.
It is possible to escape the temptation of food and irritation of traffic by taking a wander down to the shady shores of Hoan Kiem Lake. This (relatively) tranquil spot, to the north of the teeming Old Quarter, is bordered by trees and flower gardens. In the centre sits the solitary Thap Rua (Tortoise Tower), while at its southern end is the Ngoc Son Temple, reached by the charming hump-backed Huc Bridge. On my second day, seeking solace from the humidity and heat of midday, I perched myself on a shoreside bench and had a satisfying lunch of donuts and fresh fruit supplied by one of the ubiquitous basket carriers. Satiated and enjoying a little peace and quiet, I was pleasantly surprised to be approached by an amiable young man, who seemed keen to make polite conversation. I was just thinking how friendly even big cities in Vietnam were, when said young man asked me if I would like to make love to him...a little taken aback I replied with a firm negative, whilst trying not to be too rude. Ten minutes of convincing him that I only liked members of the opposite sex in that way (including fictional description of girlfriend back in England!) finally persuaded him to leave me alone. Perusing my Lonely Planet ($3 at book exchange - although turned out to be a knock-off with slightly difficult-to-read photocopied maps) a little later, I discovered that the lake is actually a favourite pick-up point for locals and tourists looking for 'man' love...hmmmm! Oops! At this point I was on the verge of feeling somewhat flattered...until I read on that the local boys frequenting the area were doing so for money rather than love. I appear not to be a big hunk of gay love...just a walking dollar sign. This it seems is a recurring theme in Hanoi...the locals trying every possible (mainly legal) means to wring tourist dollars from tourist wallets and money belts. Certainly Hanoi feels very safe as capital city's go, but it's not the violent crime you need to watch out for so much as the daylight robbery that takes place in the multitude of travel agencies and hotels throughout the Old Quarter. I had been tipped-off by friends that Sapa and Halong Bay were must-see stops on my tour of Vietnam, so had gone window-shopping for all-inclusive tours to both. The prices for my 4 day trekking trip in the north-western mountains ranged from $69 to $120, depending on which company you went through. I can imagine that those too lazy to venture past the travel desk at their hotel could easily get ripped-off. As it was, I felt quite smug after sweating and toiling around a dozen different agencies to find the best deals...and pride cometh before a fall (details later).
Staying in my $2 dorm with me were a couple of older guys who had been touring Vietnam by motorcycle. Jonny English (nickname) hailed from Lincolnshire and Simon was a policeman from San Francisco. Together with another American - Mitch from Arkansas - they had followed a Vietnamese guy called Tin all the way from Danang to Hanoi on motorbikes (about 600km). The more they told me about it the better it sounded...and they were all salt of the earth types so I was inclined to take what they were saying at face value. We hung out for the next day or so - enjoying Cha Ca (fish cake hot pot - a local speciality) and endeavouring to find the cheapest beer in Hanoi. The eventual winner was a little street stall with plastic kiddie stools selling a glass of no-name draught beer at 1500Dong (about 5p!) E-mail addresses were dutifully exchanged and I wouldn't be surprised if I was using Tin's services later on in the trip myself. On my final evening in Hanoi, Simon, John and I went to see the famous water puppet show. Performed in a murky pool with scenery and accompanied by a nine piece traditional band and choir, the show was amusing and instructive on the Vietnamese way of life...with each little vignette exploring traditional agricultural and historical themes. The puppets themselves were intricately designed and brilliantly coloured, while the team of puppeteers showed great strength and skill maneuvering them about the 'stage'. The show only lasted an hour but was well worth the 'tourist price' of 40,000Dong (locals pay considerably less...another theme that recurs throughout the country!) I bade farewell to my companions after a final beer and headed up to the train station to catch my sleeper train to Lao Cai, en route to Sapa.