Arriving in Hanoi at 6am was like finding yourself being sucked into a rapidly swirling vortex. For a start, unlike the end of our other coach journeys in Vietnam we weren't taken directly to the hotel of our choice. Instead, we were abandoned on the outskirts of the city to a frenzied group of Vietnamise taxi drivers and hotel touts. Bartering down a tout to US$7/night inc. breakfast, we let ourselves be led to a room with mould so thick on the walls of the bathroom that it resembled cotton wool!
Beth spent the first day in bed suffering from the flu and unable to brave the cold. At 12 degrees, we began to wonder why we had sent our warm clothes back home. Once recovered, we wondered outside into the old quarter of Hanoi and within the space of five minute, were almost run over 4 times by motor-scooters...and we were on the pavement! We were confronted by an amazing scene, as hoards of motorcycles bombed down the labyrinth of narrow streets that make up the beautifully
old and wonderfully tatty area. Food stalls line the pavements and send the smell of freshly cooked noodles laced with mint and meat (pigs trotters and ducks complete with beaks seemed particular favorites), spiralling to the terraces at the top of the narrow, tall buildings that face into the streets. Elderly ladies whose wrinkled faces reflect the struggles of their time; the occupation of the French, the attack of the Americans, defeating starvation, yet they shuffle along the streets carrying a simple pole on one shoulder balanced either end by baskets of fruit, vegetables, fish or flowers. Sometimes they stop on the pavement, tired of the ceaseless walking and hoping that perhaps their customers will visit them today. The streets are alive with a blur of cyclo drivers, communal Mah Jong games and the call of the street traders yet there is an order to the Chaos. Shops are grouped by street based on merchandise; souvenirs line one as flowers line another and music a third. Part of the old quarters charm is soaking up the atmosphere on a terrace bar an observer of the mayhem below.
In our opinion, the best food in Vietnam (which until now we considered bland and oily) was to be found in the capital; hundreds of street stalls dishing up plates of lemon leaves, meat and noodles, Little Hanoi Restaurant with its antique-like charm, and the 'No-Noodle Bar' for when you finally have enough of the Vietnamese staple.
'Admin duties' like organising our Indian visa and confirming airline tickets gave us a great opportunity to traverse the wider city by foot. Whilst the rest of Hanoi
carries none of the charm of the old quarter, the buildings, commerce and daily lives of the people are still fascinating. After ten kilometers, we found ourselves at Ho Chi Minh's mausoleum - the original godfather of Vietnamese communism and hero to the people for declaring independence from France. We weren't 100% sure what we were queuing to see but tourists and locals alike were shuffling in silence towards the entrance. We maintained a suitably somber stance as the curtains opened and we found ourselves face to face with the embalmed body of 'Uncle Ho'. As our first view of a dead body, we couldn't help but think it would look more at home in Madame Tussauds and after dutifully bowing, we gratefully retreated into the spring-like Hanoi air again.
Hanoi is also internationally famous (or so the brochure claims) for their
water puppet theatre - a traditional form of entertainment and one that has maintained its popularity judging by the packed theatre. There was something very naive and innocent about the puppets which writhed and danced in the water to the live Vietnamese band. It felt like a performance from a bygone age but the scenes were amusing and the quality good; we still smile when we think of that night.
On the last day, we trekked across the city with our backpacks at 6am to pick up the
minibus to the airport. As we passed the lake which heralds the start of the old quarter, we were amazed to see hoards of Hanoians stretching, leaping and in some cases dancing with fans and swords to music pumped over loud speakers. Vietnamese of all ages were "working" out and were in their own little world, eyes closed and stretching for the sky. We felt privileged to see the hectic Hanoians at their most relaxed and would have joined in had it not been for the 20kg bags on our backs and already giving us a workout.
We left Hanoi and Vietnam with fond memories of a beautiful land and a greatly reduced budget from our spending frenzy; worth it though to remind us of our wonderful month-long journey in the land of conical hats, paddy fields and a nation determined to defeat the ravages of war.
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