Vietnam 2023 – Trip Report 5

Saturday 2 September – Hanoi

Eyes open.  It’s 5.00am.

Two positives; I’m alive, and I ain’t getting up.

Back to sleep, and it was actually sleep, before eyes open again.

I know it’s later, as it’s lighter, and I can hear the noises associated with it being later, but I have no desire to get up.

Lay there, in all my lazy glory, until I eventually pluck up the courage to look at the time.

It’s 8.00am, and as much as I don’t want to get up, I decide I better.

I feel okay, but I can hardly describe myself as feeling great.

Downstairs by 8.30am, and with food just being a bridge too far at the moment, I skip the hotel breakfast and head outside.

Up Hang Manh towards St Joseph’s, and it’s already nuts, with people everywhere.  Yep, well and truly a holiday long weekend.

Plenty already out and about.

The coffee shop beside the church, which we went to a few times last year, is full, so the hunt for my much needed first cà phê sữa đá of the day, continues.

Through the hems, and back out onto the road the hospital is on, and there, not far from our currently closed laundry place, is another café that we went to last year.

It’s one that I remember for a few reasons; they have a small fluffy white dog, the girl there is incredibly friendly, and Lisa wasn’t a fan of their cà phê sữa đá.

The moment I tasted it last year, I knew that would be the case.  I know her far better than she gives me credit for.

Last year’s cà phê sữa đá, while not the absolute best I’d ever had, was more than fine, and with the Intrepid one being way off in some far flung European land, this café, seeing as they have room for me, is going to be it.

Seat taken, the girl is still friendly, the dog not quite as, and I quickly have my coffee in front of me, while sitting out on the street.

It’s nice to just sit, after spending eight of the last nine hours laying down.

Yeah, I don’t really get it….

A nice, and much required, way to start your day.

World watched, as well as my arm; yep, still love it; and the coffee, like last year, is more than adequate.

A rough plan for the day is mulled over in my slowly awakening brain, and one part of that plan involves solving my laundry issue.  It needs to be dropped off today.

Another thing on the list includes possibly buying a small backpack.  Reason being, there’s one or two things I don’t need to take to Sapa, so a bag will enable those things to be left behind at the Emerald.

And while a plastic bag for that would probably suffice, the purchasing of a small backpack has been in the back of my mind for a while now, to replace the incredibly cheap and uncomfortable ‘backpack’ (with the term backpack being used very loosely) we take on our occasional bike rides back home.

The third thing is to try and help someone I’ve never met, but have ‘spoken’ to, on Trip Advisor.  It involves visiting a hotel I’ve never been in, and one that I’m not even a hundred percent sure on where it is, so we’ll see how that pans out.

Now with a plan, and coffee done, the bill of 25 000 Dong is paid.  Friendly girl bid farewell, dog not so keen on me standing up and leaving, and I head back down to St Joseph’s.

It was nuts before, but now it’s on another level.  Cars, bikes, people. Everywhere!

Down the street opposite, and while most are moving along according to the conditions, there’s one that’s not.

The guy in one of those pale blue ‘Vinfast’ taxis, whose need to get where he needs to go, is apparently far more important than any other person; car, motorbike, bicycle or pedestrian; sharing the road with him.

I don’t know how fast he was going, but even at 40 km/ph, it was far too fast for the conditions.  And all the while tooting his horn to reinforce how important he thought he was.

I rarely have strong urges to punch someone in the head, but right now, I do.

Seriously, just one stupid, dangerous, and arrogant idiot.

Down to Bao Khanh, and along Hang Hanh, before turning down towards the lake.  While the streets were busy and crowded up near St. Joseph’s, they have nothing on what’s going on down here.  It is absolutely manic, but at the same time, there’s such a great atmosphere.

Across the car and bike-less street, and over to the Northern end of the lake.  A young girl skips and twirls past me, swinging a bag of rubbish as she goes.  As she reaches a large bin, she twirls one final time, and with perfect timing, hurls the bag into the bin as she spins around.

The skill and flair with which did it, actually made me laugh out loud, but it was the sheer and total happiness she was obviously feeling, that really caught my attention.

She made me smile, and helped with me moving on from the idiot in the Vinfast taxi.

Over to the other side of the lake, and then begin walking up Lo Su street, to see if I can help that person from Trip Advisor, I’ve never met.

They’d posted on the forum yesterday, that they’d been unsuccessful at getting an email reply from their hotel of choice.

That hotel was the Hanoi E Central, and seeing as I’m here in Hanoi, I said that I would check it out for them.

Now, I could just say something like – ‘Yep, just the kind of person I am’, but if I’m pushed to total honesty, then there are two reasons why I feel the urge.

One, I didn’t have much in the way of plans today, so this would give me something, albeit small, to do.

And two, someone, who is now a friend – Mike – did similarly for me last year, when I was trying to contact the Emerald.

He walked up there, while he was spending a few days in Hanoi, and managed to obtain the correct email address for me.

So yeah, it’s kind of like trying to pay it forward, I suppose.

Google says the hotel is on the left, and sure enough, after checking maps a second time, the hotel is found.

Head inside, and as I begin to ask the girl behind the desk, I realise I haven’t really stopped to think about how I’m going to actually ask the question.

Not surprisingly, as I stammer out my convoluted question, the girl has a confused look on her face.  Fortunately, the girl behind me, who works on the hotel’s tour desk, hears this idiot trying to achieve what he came in for, and she takes control of the situation.

And by control, I mean she simply hands me a business card with the email address printed on it, while telling me that yes, there is no problem using that email to book accommodation.

Incredibly grateful for her skill and expertise, and incredibly apologetic to the girl I confused, the happy, but slightly embarrassed, idiot, then walks out with what he came for.

Up Lo Su, around the corner to the right, and down a bit, I find a café.

Now with a job to do, what better way to do it than with a cà phê sữa đá.

Coffee ordered, and I sit outside to post my findings on the aforementioned thread.

Good deed done, I turn my attention to updating the visa thread, also on Trip Advisor, which Mike, who I mentioned before, is quite insistent that it gets done sooner, rather than later.

Lucky I’m on holidays…..

Coffee done, visa thing done, email to Trip Advisor done, sitting and relaxing, sort of, done, and bill, (30 000 Dong), done by paying it, and I continue walking in what I believe to be a southerly direction.

The loose plan is to walk down to the bottom of the lake, but, and other than I don’t walk these streets too often, it’s to do it a couple of streets back from it.

It’ll probably be less crowded, and who knows, I might find something interesting.

The walk is pleasant enough, but not overly interesting, and while I believe I know, roughly, where I am, I can’t actually see the lake when I half expect that I should.

But I quickly realise that I’m not far away from it at all, when the number of people around me, suddenly increases.

And with all those people, are their motorbikes, all neatly parked and lined up with the help of the self proclaimed parking attendants, who are doing a roaring trade.

Think I’ve found where it’s all happening.

I follow the hoards, in the belief that they will lead me to the lake, and it’s not long before I’m stopped by a woman asking if I’ll practice English with her son.

“No problem at all”, is the response.

He is seven years old, and not only is his English very good, but he is also a great kid.

We chat for a good 5 – 10 minutes, before our lesson comes to an end.  I shake the young boy’s hand, and look over towards his mother to say goodbye.

She has already turned away, no doubt looking for the next English ‘teacher’.

Not a smile, a thank you, or even an acknowledgement.

Wonder if her husband drives a Vinfast taxi…..

The walk continues, and one of those small open backed police vans / trucks, the ones that they use to confiscate items that a few of those terrible law un-abiding locals, leave out on the footpath to help generate an income, rolls past.

I can tell that they’re on the look out, so I follow them down the side street they turn into.

There’s a whole heap of those remote control cars that you see down the southern end of the lake, and as the police van enters the side street, there’s a mad scramble from the owners of those said cars.

Yep, southern end of the lake is obviously okay, but not here at the south eastern end.

They stop, and a car is loaded in.  One of the ‘illegal’ vendors then grabs another of his cars, and rips the battery out, in anticipation of another acquisition.

But the police now have a problem, as their first car has taken up considerable room in their truck, and enough room that it means that no further acquired cars will fit.

They do, however, have room for smaller items, so a couple of ‘scooters’ are taken into custody.

‘Decluttering’ the street.

The police slowly move on, and as they do, the ‘illegal’ vendors continue to scramble to get their things off the street.

But they needn’t bother, as the police now have a problem; their truck is full.

All they have left now is to merely look intimidating, which, for the time being, is enough to achieve their objective.

Road, and footpath, cleared, they turn left down near the lake.  And as they do, the road they’ve just ‘cleaned’ up, returns to the state that it was, prior to their arrival.

Ahhh, the merry-go-round of Hanoi police and their enforcement of road and footpath clutter….

It is funny to watch, though.

Down to the southern end of the lake, and it’s all of crowded, nuts, madness, hectic, and just full on.

But it’s now becoming all just a little too much for me, and the decision is made that I really need to get out of here.

Up to the western side of the lake, stopping briefly to watch a security guy madly blow his whistle at three local women, who believed the barricades did not apply to their bicycles, and then back to the Emerald.

Ahhhh, peace…..

Jenny is in the dining room, so I head over for a chat.  She’s eating some sort of fruit that, while I may have seen it before, I know I have never tasted it.  Hell, I don’t even know what it’s called.

Anyway, apparently it’s custard apple, and she’s quick to offer me one.

It’s nice, but rather fiddly and messy, with a million rock hard little black pips in it.

We sit and chat for half an hour, while I continually spit out black pips, and flick sticky custard apple skin onto a plate.

She’s so easy to talk to, and it was just nice to sit and relax for a bit, after the madness outside.

Up to the room to clean custard apple from under my nails, and then attempt a bit of a rest and recovery session.

A thirty minute lie down results in exactly that, with no absolutely no sleep, or even dozing, achieved.

Idea shelved, I write a few notes that should have been written last night, and then head back out around 1.00pm to do something about lunch, laundry, and possibly a backpack.

With no desire for either bun cha from the deaf, or anything even remotely in the direction of the lake, I make my way in the general direction of Dong Xuan market.

Past the yellow seat restaurant thieves; ‘no thank you’, said in a slightly condescending tone; and up Stainless Steel Street.  The walk continues, and while there’s plenty of places open, as in all sorts of different retail type shops, I am surprised at how many businesses are actually closed on this National Day public holiday.

You certainly won’t go hungry, and you’ll still be able to get pretty much anything you need, but there is a number who have taken the day, or maybe several days, off.

The laundry options quickly dry up, as I’m now too far from the Emerald.  The lunch thing isn’t going so well, and I haven’t seen a backpack selling place, so at the moment, I’m zero from three.

I do, however, find Dong Xuan market without cheating by using Google Maps, and I start to come across a few food places.

Unfortunately, though, a number doing bun cha, which I don’t really want, and some of the others are already packing up.

Part of my problem is that I just don’t know what I want, and the thought crosses my mind that I could just go and buy a packet of chips from a Circle K convenience store, and be done with that.

But that’s even worse cheating than using Google Maps, and I’m disgusted with myself for even thinking it.

I walk the perimeter of Dong Xuan, and it has a weird feel about it.  It’s normally bustling, but today it looks half closed, and there really aren’t many people about at all.

I find the little food lane that we’ve walked a couple of times over the years, and, with it being really busy with locals, it’s a good sign.

But I have a problem.  Well, I have a couple of problems.

One, while I wouldn’t call it a hangover, I am still paying slightly for last night’s fun, and as such, the sensory overload of food smells and food sights in this tiny crowded lane, is proving a little difficult to handle.

And two, we actually ate here in 2016, which, ordinarily, would make me feel comfortable about a repeat performance.

But it doesn’t, with the reason making absolutely no sense at all.

You see, back in 2016 I picked up some sort of stomach bug.  It wasn’t food poisoning, but it was something that lingered in the second half of our trip, and then for another week or so after we got home, until I gave in and went and saw a doctor.  While, obviously, I don’t know where I got it from, I have, for some reason, always wondered if it came from the lunch we had here in this very lane.

I can’t really remember why I thought, or think, that, but I did, and I still have this little thing in my mind that makes me apprehensive about this place.

Which is stupid, because not only was it seven and a half years ago, there must be at least ten to fifteen vendors here, all doing their own thing.

So when you look at it like that, and add in the fact that it was seven and a half years ago, you can clearly see how ridiculous my doubt and apprehension is, and how screwed up I can be.

Anyway, I can’t eat here, so I remove myself from the overpowering smells, heat, scenes, and busyness of this authentic, but in my mind, ‘tainted’, for want of a better word, Hanoi food lane.

I find the little street market near Dong Xuan, and then come across a place doing, amongst other things, bánh mì’s.

The seafood section of the market.

It’s not really my preferred type of place, but I’ve reached the stage I just need something.

The young girl directs me to a seat outside, and I sit down next to an older local guy who has his rather big German Shepherd type dog, spread out on the ground next to him.

I look, rather nervously, at the dog as I take a seat, and the dog raises his head to look, probably not nervously, at me.

He then looks away and returns his head to the ground.

Happiness is immediately found, knowing that neither of us is interested in the other.

I’m handed a menu by the young girl, and I’m surprised to find an English translation written under every dish they do.

Bánh mì is decided upon, with the choice made mainly by a process of elimination, as opposed to actually choosing something that appeals, and my bánh mì with pepper steak and cheese – yes, I don’t really know why – quickly turns up.

It’s as appetising as it sounds, but it does the job, and as I eat it, I realise why half the menu is in English.

There’s a backpacker’s hostel over the road.

So much for being aware of your surroundings…..

Expensive-ish, and pretty average, bánh mì had (40 000 Dong), along with a trà đá (5000 Dong), and I head off with plans to get closer to, but not too close, to the lake, in order to hopefully do something about that backpack idea.

Past the Old Gate, which is always good to see, and then down Packaging Street.  Onto cheap Paper / Tinsel / Balloon decorations Street, which, while all very pretty and colourful, is, in my mind, a serious waste of the world’s resources, when you know it’s all going to get dropped into landfill.

Yep, getting old and a bit too environmentalist….

But only selectively on the environment bit.

It is colourful!

Up in the direction of Ma May Street, and I come to one of those North Face stores, that seem to be on the vast majority of the Old Quarter streets.

I normally avoid them like tofu, but they do have backpacks.

Deep breath taken, and I head in.  I have absolutely no idea how much they are, so this will likely just be an exercise in information gathering.

The examining begins on a 15 litre bag, and a guy suddenly appears.

The question of how much is asked, with the answer being 380 000 Dong.

“Hmmm, okay, I’ll think about it”, is my response, as I walk towards the entrance, wondering if he’ll stop me with a lower offer, which would then let me know how negotiable the price actually is.

It seems it’s not negotiable, as he lets me walk.

Oh well….

Still backpack-less, but now with a very rough and general idea on price, I reach Ta Hien Street and Beer Corner.

A local guy, sitting out the front of one of the food places, jumps up and comes towards me as I approach.  He’s looking and pointing at my tattoos, which, judging by his reaction, he clearly loves.

And just like yesterday, with the young guys at 1984 when they were getting done, it was a nice feeling to be on the receiving end of such an enthusiastic acknowledgement.

Onto Ma May Street, and then up the narrow lane off to the left, partly kind of aimless walking, but also to see if the beer place from last year, and 2019, is still there.

It is.

And as luck would have it, there’s another North Face store opposite.  And yep, they have backpacks.

Interest is shown in a similar one to which was looked at in the last place, and the very friendly shop guy approaches.

The question is asked, and the answer, I believe, is 250 000 Dong.

He’s keen to make a sale, and while I’m reasonably keen on the idea, I’m not completely sold on it.

He pushes a little harder, so I decide to go down the negotiation path, knowing full well, that once I start, I’ll definitely be walking away with a backpack.

“Okay, 200 000 Dong?, I enquire.

I get the shocked and sad face I’ve seen before, both here when in this exact situation, and also when I return to the house sometimes, and the kids are already there.

“No, 350 000 Dong”, he replies.

Hang on, did he say 250 000 before, or was it actually 350 000?

I don’t know, but I’ll assume I misheard.

Taking the final leap that will result in the purchase of this backpack, I offer 250 000 Dong.

The shocked and sad look returns, along with the reply of, “No, I make a loss!”

He then says 280 000 Dong, and while I’m now prepared to accept that, I decide to extend the fun by offering 270 000 Dong.

With a smile on his face, he accepts the amount, and the transaction is completed, in what couldn’t have been done in better spirits or a more jovial way.

He was a really nice guy, and I even get a handshake as he hands over the backpack.

Back towards the Emerald, once again attempting it sans any map help, and I soon find Hardware Street.

Wow, I’m getting good at this!

As I get closer to the hotel, I start to keep an eye out for that elusive laundry place.  Making a slight detour by walking up around the back, I find a tour agent type place offering the service that I require.

The girl at the desk, whose English is pretty good, implies that yes, if I drop off today, it will be back tomorrow.

The conversation continues on the exact time that it would need to be dropped off by, and as it does, I begin to have doubts on whether it will all actually return before my bus leaves for Sapa early on Monday morning.

I tell her I’ll be back later with my clothes, and head back to the Emerald about 3.00pm.

Not totally convinced of the laundry plan, I have the genius idea to ask Cammy if they offer the service.

She replies pretty quickly that they do, and that yes, I can drop it off tonight.

Feeling far more confident, and with half my problem now solved, a few notes are written, while admiring my new backpack.

Out around 4.00pm, onto Stainless Steel Street, and then up Bat Dan.  Getting to my beer place, there’s only one other group of four or five, and the whole place, and area for that matter, has a very quiet and rather unusual feel to it.

Seat taken, and beer, that after last night I probably don’t really need, arrives, and I’m back doing my thing.

A local guy turns up, sits at the table next to me, and immediately acknowledges me.  He wants to talk, which I love, but his English, which is still far better than my Vietnamese, makes things a little difficult.

That’s alright, nothing Google Translate can’t overcome.

We ‘chat’, along with plenty of ‘cheers-ing’, and I find out he’s 51 years old, and has two boys, who are 20 and 25.

The chat is interspersed with plenty of apologies for the standard of his English, which is really something that he shouldn’t be apologising for, and all of a sudden, a plate of fried fish cake things turns up, along with some chili sauce for dipping.

With his strong desire to interact, which I’m incredibly grateful for, I’m not at all surprised when he insists that we share the food.

I’m not really hungry, but I know he’ll be hugely disappointed if I don’t, so I take up his offer.  He then starts to get concerned about my beer, or more the level of it in my glass, and I now get the feeling he wants to actually buy me a beer.

I can sort of see where this is going, and while I’m blown away by his generosity, I really don’t want him to be paying for things.

I reluctantly agree, but make it clear, well, as clear as I am capable of, that we will buy the beers in alternating ‘shouts’.

He smiles, and agrees, which is good, but I’m not overly confident he’s going to stick to the agreement.

Another beer arrives, which is added to his ledger, and the chatting continues, along with continual offerings to partake in the food.

The apologies for his English also continue, which again, he just doesn’t need to do, and it makes feel more than a little annoyed and disappointed with myself, that even after all these years, I can’t really communicate in his language.

Another beer is ordered, and when they arrive, I hand my ledger to the young guy before my mate has a chance to do what I suspect he’s going to do.

My suspicion is right, and I feel rather smug with my deftness at thwarting his ‘plan’, as he gives me a wry smile.

With help from one of the young guys, we do a couple of photos, along with another beer or two.

My, very generous, beer mate.

Not that I have much in the way of plans, well, apart from a laundry issue to sort out, I start to wonder, and slightly worry, how long this beer shouting thing is going to go on for.

But I needn’t have, and around 5.30pm, he gets up to make a move.

He speaks to one of the young guys about fixing up his beer ledger, and it’s a conversation that goes a little longer than it ordinarily would.

My earlier smugness becomes a distant memory, when all of a sudden my beer ledger disappears, and he gets his way by paying for my beers as well.

While I’m a little annoyed, but mainly at myself, I’m incredibly grateful.  Not only for his generosity, but for the fact that he took the time to interact with me.

A quick handshake, he bids me farewell, and I’m left to finish my beer while contemplating one of those chance meetings, that often end up more memorable than you thought they would.

Beer done, a hẹn gặp lại to my young beer guys, including one who is a little stand off-ish; think he’s just a little young, and quite possibly new; and it’s off down Bat Dan and into Stainless Steel Street.

A quick stop at my convenience store, the young girl working there now recognising me when I walk in, and yes, Hanoi beer is definitely, and still, 13 000 Dong.

Back to the Emerald, and Jenny is looking stressed at the front desk.

Some guests, who have only just arrived, have an issue with the room they’ve been given.  Somehow, Agoda, who they booked through, has altered their booking, and the room they have been allocated is a slightly cheaper room than the one they originally booked.

They’re not very happy, apparently, and Jenny is the one who has copped their frustration.

She’s explained, and shown them, the booking the Emerald received from Agoda, but with no one from Agoda there, and Jenny being the only face in front of them, she’s the one being blamed.

To add to it all, the hotel is fully booked, and as such, a room swap isn’t possible.

We chat for a bit, and, seeing as these guests are Australians, I offer to talk with them, perhaps at breakfast tomorrow, should she think I can help.

Off up to the room for a much required shower, as well as to sort clothes that have looked and smelt better, and then down to Hang Gai with bag of said clothes, to see Cammy.

I reach Hang Gai, and while I expected it to be busy, I didn’t expect it to be this busy.  There are people everywhere, and it’s absolute madness.

It’s interesting, as it always is, but I am very pleased that I have no need to go any further.

I inch, and fight, my way across the street, and in to see Cammy.  Laundry is handed over, along with a very sincere thank you for dealing with it, a quick chat, and then it’s back out to battle the crowds.

And then escape them.

Off up towards the Emerald, and seeing the phở bò place just around the corner from Hang Manh Street, where we ate last year, this will be it.

Interest shown, seat quickly offered, phở, along with a beer, ordered, and in no time at all, I have everything I need; dinner, cold beer, with thanks to a big chunk of ice, a very local environment, and a footpath with the usual sights that come with that.

Dinner.

The phở, as expected after last year, is excellent, and the beer is none too shabby, either.  Food and drinks done, measly bill of 90 000 Dong (phở 50k, beer 2x20k) fixed up, and I’m back off up to Bat Dan for the usual.

It has a completely different feel to just a couple of hours ago, with far more people around, and a really good festive, type of vibe.

But absolutely nothing like what’s going on just a few blocks away.

Even though they’re busy, they still find me a seat, and once again, I’m back doing my thing.

Sit, watch the world go by, including those incredibly hard working women who look after Hanoi’s rubbish, and spend some time with a tiny cat, who appears to belong to the beer place.

They work so hard.

Found a friend.

My stand off-ish guy is still exactly that, and that both frustrates me and saddens me.

It’s frustrating because he’s giving me so little, but it saddens me because he just seems to struggle to fit into this scene that he’s found himself in.

I now have an aim, and that is to not only win him over, but also to hopefully see him looking more comfortable in what he does.

Yep, such the social worker kind of person, who thinks far more than he should, usually about things that either don’t matter, or probably don’t even exist….

Over thinking put, no doubt temporarily, on hold, and the world goes back to being watched, along with a little Face Book catch up.

And the end result of that, is that both of those things end up delivering quite significantly.

The desire, which I’ve had since the very first trip as soon as I saw how things are done in Vietnam, to photograph the most amazing scenes attached to a motorbike or scooter, unfolds big time, right in front of me.

While photographing things like big sheets of glass, or ridiculous amounts of boxes / beer kegs / kid’s plastic balls, etc, being transported around on bikes is always the goal, the other strong desire is to get a photo with the greatest number of people on a bike.

Two is common, as is three, and even four is hardly unusual.

But here, right in front of me, a family proceeds to board their bike, to get to wherever it is they need to go.

Not taking a lot of notice initially, my interest increases as the number of passengers do, and when I realise that there is six of them, well I realise that I have now reached a new personal record.

I quickly jump up, frantically calling up my camera on my phone, and ask by using hand and finger signalling, if I can take a photo.

The dad laughs, happily obliging me, and I think the rest of them enjoyed being the centre of attention for a short moment.

They were very accommodating.

While the photography moment had, in my eyes, been rather significant, it was the opening of my Face Book page, that blew me away.

Generally not taking much, if any, notice of Face Book stories at the top of the page, this time something caught my attention.

It was a dark, as in not light, looking post, with the numbers 1984 being the first thing I noticed.

But there, alongside that, was a couple of familiar looking tattoos, along with one that, after little more than 24 hours, was perhaps less familiar.

Yep, there was my arm, in all it’s freshly inked glory, promoting and celebrating Vietnam’s National Day.

Yep, it absolutely blew me away.

A couple more beers, along with a fair amount of contemplation on my day.

One of those nothing types of day, with it starting out with a ‘chore’ or two, experiencing the locals enjoying their National Day, the ‘thrill’ of purchasing a backpack; gee I hate shopping; finally dealing with my laundry issue, and then my chance encounter with my incredibly friendly beer mate.

And finally, this; my arm, not only on a Face Book story, but being there to acknowledge this country’s rather significant day.

Yeah, it’s funny where things end up.

Almost 10.30pm, it’s time to make a move.  Beer tab fixed up, and I head off down Bat Dan.

Not 30 seconds into my journey, a guy on a motorbike pulls up beside me.

“Massage?”, he asks, without any complimentary photos accompanying his offer.

I politely decline.

Into Stainless Steel Street, and a quick stop at my convenience store for a couple of beers I really don’t need, along with a 5000 Dong packet of chips.

Outside for the final stretch, and a second massage offer, again, slightly disappointingly, sans photo, is received.

I’m now a little concerned.  What is it that I look like, as I walk the streets of Hanoi?  Is there some sort of image that I’m portraying?

I really hope not, as I don’t want to be thought of as one of ‘those’ men.

Down past the yellow seat thieves, who are still trying to extort, into Hang Manh, and then into the Emerald.

Anh is at the desk, and we have a chat for a bit.  He is seriously a lovely guy.

Up to the room, a couple of those beers I don’t need, along with some Trip Advisoring and a few notes about my day.

That nothing day, that ended up in a place I could never have imagined, when I awoke from my rice wine induced sleep this morning.

Yep, funny where stuff ends up.

Pin is finally pulled just after that ‘nothing’ day becomes yesterday.

Yep, hopeless….

Cheers,

Scott