Wonderful Vietnam

We say goodbye to Vietnam today from the window of an air-conditioned taxi, maintaining our height above the dirtiness of the big city. In reality we said goodbye yesterday when we left the streets as backpackers and became “executives” for the night.
Unfortunately the luxury treatment stops when we get to the airport and are back in cattle class for an uneventful flight followed by an 8-hour wait for our connection in Bangkok. We pass the time investigating digital cameras in the duty free shops and reading. It is also time to reflect on what a fantastic trip this has been.
So what do I say to the people who say “Vietnam? For pleasure?” and make incredulous eyes when you say you’re going to a country famous solely for a war it actually won nearly forty years ago? I say: you have to go to Vietnam. Everyone should, to see how the spirit of humanity can overcome huge tragedy. With world affairs as they are, it would do some people good to see what horrors guerrilla war can bring.
Vietnam is a wonderfully friendly country, everything is kitted up for travelling tourists, conditions are good, the food is delicious, the weather is great if a bit sticky and you are almost guaranteed a fantastic time. Provided you don’t just stay in posh hotels, that is.
Get it before the masses who discovered Thailand do.

Best shave in the world

We spend the morning swimming, diving and larking about in and out of the kayaks like water babies. As the boat moves to head back to Halong City, I fall overboard causing much hilarity. Unfortunately we’re off back to Hanoi as quickly as we came and have to bid goodbye to our new found friends.
We have one last night to spend in Hanoi before our journey home begins and thanks to our American friends who recommend a rather nice hotel and our rat-experience which led us to believe we deserve such a hotel, we’re planning to stay in luxury. The De Syloia hotel is a step up in our normal standards and wow, is it worth it!
First we have to get there. Some hotel touts near where we get dropped offer their motorbikes at a pricey 25,000 Dong each (>£2 in total). The journey is max 1.5km so we’re having none of it and do some of our most impressive haggling including storming off and manage to get them down to less than £1 total. They take us to the street we requested (we didn’t ask for the hotel, lest they realise we have money to burn) rather roughly protesting that we’ve got them too cheap. I tell them we’re meeting friends at the De Syloia and one says do I know they charge $40 per night there? I say yes I do. I’m sure they were planning to ask for more money when we arrive at the entrance to the hotel but am pleasantly surprised when the doorman comes over, takes our bags and asks how much we are about to pay. I tell him and he nods, saying that is “okay”. He reprimands the drivers anyway and they are really not very happy. It is with a great victorious feeling that we walk to the hotel, desperately hoping that now we’re here we are not going to be embarrassed into paying an exorbitant room rate but pleased that we have attained an Olympic Gold Medal standard in our haggling tests.
The De Syloia is a fantastic haven of niceness after the conditions on the boat and not having had a shower for three days. We get shown around a large room which actually smells nice and even has a safe. It costs $50 for a double but that is only £37 for both of us so is definitely within budget for a last fling. We’re overly-excited at what is really just a nice hotel room but it feels so great to fill it with our filthy packs and dirty clothes and soon we have discoloured even the fluffy white face cloths. It is fantastic to get properly clean for once. Don’t under estimate the power of niceness.
Our appreciation is so complete that we don’t venture out onto the streets even for dinner. It feels like we’ve done Vietnam. It’s time to go home and now we are “hermetically cleaned” it seems a shame to spoil it by going back to our backpacking ways. How easy it must be to not see a place properly by staying in nice hotels like this all the time. We feel justified just doing it for the last night though.
We have a nice meal in the hotel and then hit the sack early to enjoy a comfortable night in the nicest bed of the trip.

Kayaking, South China Sea

In the morning it is clear that rats do live below deck in the hull which is awash with water and only roughly separated from the cabins by floorboards which are sparsely spaced – in fact roughly rat-sized spacing has been used. However the sun is hot today and the sky clear and whether there are rats in the cabin or not, we don’t care, we’re off kayaking.
First we have to do a quick walking tour of Cat Ba island which although it is a national park, seems to be just a rubbish-filled and rather poverty stricken place for 5000 Vietnamese to live providing beach facilities and brothels to miserable tourists. We are glad to depart the searing shores and get on the water.
We head through a much longer cave section by kayak for a bit and then break for lunch. Afterwards we’re off for a two-hour marathon to a beach where the boat will eventually meet us. By now Pam and I have got to grips with the bizarre steering mechanism of these boats and have a relatively reliable method which with considerable extra effort can both propel the kayak forward and keep it on a straight course. As it turns out we then make a powerful pairing and are often in the lead, steaming ahead. It is sometimes painful to keep up for a long period – you have to jam your crossed legs into the boat to keep stable and they get quite sore. The sun is also extremely hot – searing down on us. We have wet-shirts and hats covering every bit of exposed flesh.

Team photo on fabulous beach

There’s a tough bit where we near the open sea and the water is very choppy. On two occasions I go overboard after concentration lapses and luckily have the presence of mind in both cases to keep hold of both my sunglasses and my shirt as I go over. It’s great fun though and the scenery and setting could not be bettered. We see no one else all day and the only boats are enormous merchant ships and tankers bound for Halong City. The South China Sea once again holds a glamourous and mysterious image for me.
When we stop on a tiny beach area I cut my foot on some sharp coral and can at last claim my ‘Nam scar (and some sympathy from the three girls). The beach is truly glorious and only the photos can do it justice. It’s been a fun day.
The sun sets over a surrounded lagoon where we spend a second night, this time further from the rats and nearer the cool dark sky on the top deck. Coming to in the morning is just magical with the cool breeze and low humidity of 6am a welcome experience. This place is wonderful. I want to live here.

Boats in Halong Bay

Today we begin the highlight of our holiday: a three day kayaking trip in Halong Bay, a famous bay filled with 2000 rocky islands about three hours from Hanoi. We were just going to settle for a cheaper 2-day boat-bound trip but were rapidly persuaded to do something different when we saw the brochure in the HandSpan adventure travel shop. This trip promises a balance between activity and enjoying the scenery, is based on only six people and lets us escape into the wilds a bit more than a “mass” tourist trip. Also, we get to sleep on the boat, an experience which has been greatly recommended.
For a while, at 7am when we get to the pick-up point, it almost looks doubtful we’ll actually go. Some of the waiting tourists have been told their trips might be off because there is a typhoon on its way. Certainly when we eventually make it to the bay it is grey and rainy. We joke that Pam didn’t need to come all the way round the world for a grey boat trip when she could have easily obtained the same on the coast of Northern Ireland.

Beautiful limestone scenery in the mist

Our fellow travelling companions are: Richard, an English guy from Balham travelling on his own through China and Vietnam and three Americans, a brother and sister pair, Brian and Sue and their friend Catherine. It’s a fun group and it looks like we’ll have a great time. Catherine is a process engineer for a pharmaceuticals company “Merc” and has lived in Singapore and London in great comfort by the sounds of it. Sounds like she’s done really well. Brian works in an investment bank and Sue is a newly qualified physiotherapist. Richard works for Logica in technical sales.
The boat is huge for all of us but can sleep 8 in cabins below deck. The crew of four plus our guide, Quang presumably sleep wherever they can. Quang has a big smile but sometimes seems distant. He tells us he misses his new wife and proceeds to tell us in broken but very detailed English how it is really the “bang-bang” with her he misses.
We have a very tasty seafood lunch, the first of many on board, while the boat motors into the humid and murky seas. It may as well be Ireland. The eerie scenery probably describes itself from the photos better than I can here. It is haunting.
As we reach a small bay, we don rain gear and enter an amazing and huge set of limestone caves high up on the side of one of the islands. The caves are enormous “cathedrals” and although the individual stalactites are nothing particularly special the sheer scale of them is incredible. The roof has been “dimpled” by wave action prior to the caving forming its limestone structures. There are few amusing formations including a large phallic symbol and a surprisingly lifelike tortoise which luckily happens to be one of Vietnam’s revered creatures.
The rain dries up quickly and although it looks doubtful, we begin to harbour hopes that our remaining two days on board will be dry and fine. We try out the kayaks – inflatable efforts – which have been stored on top of the boat. Pam and I try out going in a pair and find our skills lacking The kayaks are infuriating – having no keel makes them very difficult to control and even when paddling in perfect time as a pair it seems impossible to prevent apparently random changes in direction. For the others who are paddling on their own, our predicament seems unbelievably bad and they probably all think we’re terrible until they have a go as a pair. The instructions from Quang are similarly infuriating because they seem to contradict all my previous knowledge of canoeing. I am relegated to a period of lone paddling until I have proved I am competent to have Pam back!
We kayak (pirouetting at times) through a “cave” full of water which leads into an interior lake inside one of the islands. Were it not for the passageway you’d never know it was there. The scenery is just awe-inspiring: towering peaks of rock and greenery. There are birds but apparently no mammals and little large-fish-life. The water is a beautiful emerald green.
Back on the boat we motor to a place where we’ll spend the night. We swim around the boat and to a small beach and dive off the boat until the light fades and supper is served. Life on board is very informal; the others are a lot of fun. The crew keep themselves to themselves except to cook us food (in a compact and tidy galley), sell us beers or cokes or jewellery. They have less success with the jewellery than the beers, for obvious reasons. The food is delicious although sometimes the crabs, shrimps and fish take more effort than I’m prepared to expend to extract meat from their shells or skeletons…
There is a flickery battery light and later candles to ensure we can stay up to play cards or chat. Regardless since the sun sets and despite the funny company and five beers, we are yawning by 9pm so set about preparing for sleep in various now darkened locations. Downstairs is most geared up for sleep with 8 beds made up with sheets and blankets but it is hot, damp and ant-ridden down there. Pam and I decide to brave it and are first to settle down. As we fidget, Pam turns the light back on as something flutters across our faces. She is then unlucky enough to see a great big rat “bound” across her bed, the pillow and out the door. She does a fairly convincing impression of “hysterical woman” and I do a less than convincing one of “macho man”. We rapidly depart the cabin and agree to return only by daylight and even then with great caution.
Luckily, the two girls and the crew (did they know?) have all bedded down on the main deck on various benches, tables and seats. I kip on a table which is relatively comfortable with the addition of blankets and sheets and Pam endures an uncomfortable night on a short seat.

A mausoleum for a man who wanted cremation

We’re up at 10am today in a race to see the embalmed corpse of Ho Chi Minh, the famous 20th Century “emperor” of Vietnam and oft-claimed founder of its modern constitution. Today is the last day before his body is flown to Russia for “maintenance” and we are lucky to make it just in time thanks to a speedy single motorbike taxi which manages to squeeze us both on.
The process of filing past the body is full of typical Communist pomp and circumstance and red tape. First we have to leave all our bags and cameras in two separate places, then walk about half a mile along a red carpet flanked by uniformed guards. Inside the concrete Mausoleum itself it is deathly quiet and dimly lit. It is interesting to see the old fellow in his box but it seems a shame because it was done against his dying wishes; he wanted to be cremated.
Actually it is the nearby museum of his life which is more interesting. It is clear he was quite a special man who saw Vietnam’s place in the world order and knew how to get his patriotic people to stand up and fight for peace and independence. This eventually led them into the two wars: the French war of Indo-China and the American war. He led his people to defeat the French and into the beginning of the American war where he appealed quite graciously for peace to the American people in a letter he wrote to the national press. Unfortunately our lesson in his life is ended prematurely since the museum closes abruptly at 11am. It’s a shame because of all the museums we’ve visited this one is especially creatively done and is one place I’d love to revisit.
We try a market lunch again but are less happy with today’s choice: the beer comes from a murky keg and we just don’t know if we can trust the food.
Later after an afternoon nap in the hotel, we end up at a fancy Italian restaurant and follow a good meal with an ice cream from Fanny’s Ice Cream Parlour and a leisurely walk around the beautiful lake near by.

Streets of Hanoi

Today we’re planning a walking tour of Hanoi. It’s interesting to see all their shops are generally arranged like-by-like by street. The streets all have names that translate to things you can buy (Silk Street, Coffee Street, Shoe Street, Tin Street and so on) and sure enough, if you go down Silk Street that’s pretty much all you can buy. But you can buy it in many colours, sizes and places. I suppose it is a leftover from the real communist days of Hanoi (although it still is ostensibly communist in ideal) and probably was designed to promote more open competition.
At lunchtime we find a wonderful street full of women serving all sorts of foods – barbecued pork, spring rolls, dumplings, salad and noodles – all behind tiny tables and using virtually no equipment. We pull up some stools and partake in a delicious feast with beer to wash it all down for £1. Chances of any of the food being vaguely hygienic are slim but at least it’s likely to be fresh.
In the afternoon we take a cyclo to the “History Museum” which has a series of exhibits ranging from artefacts found in cave dwellings to relatively recent china and art. It’s all good cultural stuff. Later on we’re in for some more culture when we dress up in our posh new clothes and take an evening of sophistication at the Hanoi Municipal Water Puppet Theatre which is an experience not to be missed.
Based around puppet shows enacted in Vietnamese villages on rice paddies for the last thousand years, this is a celebration of all things Vietnamese. It is indoors, which surprised me initially, and is laid out just like an ordinary theatre except the stage is a pool of water. The scenes enacted are from rural Vietnam and sometimes amusing. They are played out quite expertly by puppeteers who stand in the water behind a bamboo screen. The puppets pop in and out of the water and are moved intricately using various poles and wires. The whole thing is played out to a background of the voices of the puppeteers and music played by a band off to the left of the stage. All in all an interesting experience although it might have been better if we could understand the commentary.

Red trousers Vietnam-style

Fitting #1
On the way to our first “fitting” of the new clothes there is a downpour of biblical proportions – the first one we’ve been caught out in since we’ve been here. It is very, very wet but it cools things down nicely.
Pam’s dress is fantastic, I’m not convinced about two of my three pairs of trousers. That distilled description was definitely too vague and Vietnamese styling has slipped between the cracks of my careful specification. Everything needs some alterations anyway so we leave them behind again to be corrected. There doesn’t seem to be a problem with this, the clothes just get shipped back to whoever made them to have seams sewn in or panels let out.
Fittings #2 and #3
Up early today for another fitting. There are more things to correct, so we leave them again. It’s too hot for souvenir shopping so we rent a motorbike and head off to the beach, this time minimally dressed for swimming.
The beach is busier today with Vietnamese couples – all decked out in their Sunday best – who’re here for the festival. It is funny to watch them – they haven’t come to swim or sun bathe but to “cruise the beach”. The girls certainly aren’t sunbathing because they believe that pale skin is a sign of good breeding so do all they can to cover every single exposed piece. Those who do swim do so in their clothes, jeans and all. The general feel is like the “Ben Sherman” brigade back home on a Saturday night – these young Vietnamese have come to look good on the beach in their going-out clothes. They look most impractical and we feel underdressed in our swimwear.
The sea is warm and clear and the waves are powerful. We express our creative selves by building a sand-mermaid on the beach much to everyone’s apparent amazement. Most of the passing children are enthralled and apart from a few trouble-making teenagers who delight in “helping” us add larger breasts to her, they are patient and quietly enthusiastic. We celebrate our artistic success with some pork dumplings from a little stall.

Light on the water

Back in Hoi An, fitting session three is conclusive and we end up mostly happy with our purchases. Pam has got two very nice ball-style dresses; one of which I feel I practically designed since it has an embroidered dragon on the back and matching trim on the front at my suggestion. The trousers I ordered with the embroidered dragon in a style on display in the shop have turned out really well – but the less said about my three-quarter length beige efforts the better. It was only an experiment really.
Later we accumulate some souvenir crockery – Vietnamese bowls, spoons and chopsticks. Again we find the prices are extraordinarily inflexible. Either these prices have been dropped so low by the intense competition here that there’s little room for profit (seems likely given the way they behave) or else these people are so hardened to bargaining Westerners that they just refuse to budge on the price and find from experience that we’ll pay anyway. Whatever, the prices aren’t so bad to start with and we get an 8 piece and a 4 piece set for a total of £15. How can I complain?

Lantern light only

We are lucky enough to have arrived in Hoi An for the festival celebrating the anniversary of 2 September 1945 when Ho Chi Minh gave his Declaration of Independence. We’re not quite sure what, at that point, they were becoming independent from (possibly French colonial rule) but it sounds like a fine excuse to have a party every year. This time it falls on a full moon which has an added significance for the superstitious Vietnamese and the festivities are planned to last for several days. Already the preparations are in evidence with plenty of colourful lanterns being made in local shops and Vietnamese tourists arriving in large numbers.
Later the on-stage singing is dreadful – to my ears anyway – but the floating restaurant and beautiful candle lanterns strewn all over the river are fantastic. The atmosphere is electric and for our great pleasure, for one night only, they’ve stopped motor bike traffic down the main streets and banned fluorescent strip lights – only lanterns allowed. It makes a big difference to the feel of the place.
The pagodas are particularly atmospheric – the gaudiness of the Hindu offerings normally so grating is somehow tempered by the darkness, smoky air and crowds of people smiling.