Vietnam 2023 – Trip Report 15

Tuesday 12 September – Bac Ha – Hanoi

Awake at 3.00am.

Then again at 5.00am.

Damn this clock watching / alarm anticipation thing in my sleep.

Lay, doze, but mainly lay, and then get up just before 6.00am.

Off to the toilet to check things out, and it seems it is all but a distant memory.

But not that distant.

I get myself organised, packing up for what is now the fourth day in a row; you’d think I’d be good at it by now; and head downstairs for the final time by 6.45am.

The Byron Bay girl is there, and so too is Dong, who tells me that due to a tyre issue, the bus is running late.

Of course it is…..

He offers me a much wanted, and needed, cà phê sữa đá, which is gratefully accepted, and it comes as the traditional and authentic phin version.

I sit and chat with my fellow guest, who is about to head off to Sapa, while waiting for my coffee to make its way through the phin, and then savouring it once it finally has.

It’s a good cà phê sữa đá!

Her bus soon arrives, and I’m left with my coffee and my phone, while Dong has headed out to do a school drop off.

He returns a few minutes later, and while chatting, he gets a phone call.  The bus is now due at 8.00am.

I kind of knew, or at least expected, that it was unlikely to be a delay of mere minutes, so there’s no surprise or disappointment on my part.

It’s Vietnam, fighting it doesn’t work, and it is, once again, proof that you should never plan stuff to the minute here.

If you do, it will likely end in frustration, missed connections, and maybe even tears.

The delay, however, gives me an opportunity, so with my coffee now a thing of the past, I head down to see Binh.

Down to the market and its usual sights, and then over to the restaurant.

Last look at the Bac Ha market.

But even though it’s well after 7.00am, which is when he said he normally opened up from, it’s all shuttered up.

I’m so disappointed, as not only did I want to say goodbye, but I also wanted a photo with him, which I really should have done yesterday.

Damn my lack of forethought!

Round the block and back up towards the Ngan Nga, and in the side street I come across a couple of guys changing a wheel on a truck.

Must be the day for it…..

Back to the hotel, bill fixed up, and all of a sudden the bus appears out the front.

With there seeming to be a fair amount urgency for me to get on, it’s a very quick goodbye to Dong, and then over to the bus.

Instructions for shoes off, and into supplied bag, are given, along with lots of pointing and more instructions that I only partly understand.

Onto the bus, and It’s a sleeper, which doesn’t really surprise me.

But it’s a sleeper design I’ve not experienced before, with the ‘beds’ very much like beds.

There’s three rows of two, with the top one being, well, the top ‘bunk’, while the bottom one is essentially the floor.

Fortunately, I have a ‘top bunk’.

It also happens to be in the middle row, but right now, I don’t know if that’s a good thing.

I struggle on with my bag, and onto my bed, and the bus moves on, stopping just a minute later, down the road where the van dropped Mike and I off last week.

We sit for five minutes, and the thought crosses my mind that we could have saved some time if I’d simply just walked down here and waited for it.

Oh well.

We finally move off, and now that I’m settled, I get the opportunity to peruse my surroundings.

I discover I have a mirror above me, and I can’t help but think that I have always wanted a mirror above my bed.

I just can’t believe it’s taken a bus trip in far North Vietnam, for that desire to finally become reality.

At last!…..

Out through Bac Ha; a little sad to be leaving it; and then out of the town itself, and it’s not long before we make another stop, picking up another passenger.

It’s rather slow on the winding road, but not painfully so.  The fairly regular stopping to pick up and drop off, however, is more of a frustration.

So too is our driver’s apparent great love for his horn, judging by the number of times he feels the need to use it.

The horn thing is far from a first time experience, and I know it will definitely not be the last.

I decide I might be better off just looking at the scenery out the side of the bus, but with the curtain already covering the window on the left, I have only the right window to use.

That soon also becomes not an option, as my natural light and scenery hating neighbour on my right, uses her curtain to close us off to the outside world.

I’m left with the mirror above me, which is a little weird, or just lying there with half glazed over eyes, looking at what’s going on around me, while trying to avoid paying too much attention to what’s going on out through the front windscreen.

On we go, and a woman nearby is handed several plastic bags, after having a brief conversation with the driver.

Nothing is placed in them, and she just merely hangs on to them, while looking a little quiet and subdued.

I now know what the bags are potentially for, so I decide it’s probably best I concentrate on things elsewhere, along with perhaps a little dozing.

We eventually reach the expressway, and are now making good time.  Having the winding road now behind us, is also a good thing.

For all concerned.

The ‘conductor’ moves around the bus, and as expected, my ticket is 300 000 Dong.  But other differing amounts are charged to different passengers, which I can only guess is related to where they got on, and where they’re getting off.

Interestingly, but maybe not after my observations yesterday, some electronic transferring of funds, also takes place.

The drop offs continue, including one where we hadn’t even come close to stopping, when the two trucks and the bus that we’d overtaken just seconds before, sailed on past us.

Yep, probably best I don’t try to understand…..

Getting close to 11.00am, and being three hours in, and a bit over halfway, I suspect we’re not far off a break.

That suspicion is more a hope though, as this morning’s cà phê sữa đá has managed to work its way through me, and really needs to be removed sooner, rather than later.

And sure enough, pretty much right on 11.00am, we pull off the expressway, and make our way to a nearby rest stop.

Off the bus, and a beeline to the toilet is made, with relief soon achieved.  Even better, it was a no charge toilet, which are always nice to find.

Back out to check the food options, and just like when I was making my way up here last week, there seems to be two choices; a full on meal, which I really don’t want, or a selection of ‘snacks’, which I know I won’t be a fan of, made worse because they come in bulk sized quantities.

Only one thing worse than buying something you know you won’t like, and that’s buying ten times of something you won’t like.

I give it a miss, and while I’d prefer to find somewhere to just sit and wait, which is stupid, because I’ve just spent the last three hours sitting, well, laying down, I decide I really should give my legs a workout by going for a walk, in my ill-fitting bus stop supplied sandals.

Getting close to 11.30am, and really not wanting to be left behind, I head back to our bus.

Another bus has just pulled up next to it, and a guy from our bus seems to be indicating that I will now be on this newly arrived one.

I’m confused, so Google Translate is used to confirm, and sure enough, my journey, for some reason, will now continue on a different bus.

While a little perplexed, I’m not concerned at all, however I am a little annoyed that I’m now going to have to do another 30 minutes here, seeing as my new bus has only just turned up.

Onto my old bus, and bag and shoes are retrieved, while a young guy, who was also on this bus, appears to also be doing the same thing.

He seems to be taking an interest in me, and says something in English.  Taking a chance, I check with him that we are in fact changing buses, using mainly finger pointing, rather than spoken words.

He nods, which makes me feel better.

Back outside, and onto our new bus, and sure enough, the young guy follows.

The bus is the same configuration as the previous, except this time I’m on the left side, while the young guy is directly opposite, but over on the far right.

I get myself sorted, and look across at my new mate, who has just done the same.

He keeps looking in my direction, and again says something to me in English.  I respond, and while I can tell he does actually have a little English, and certainly far more Vietnamese than I have, I know he doesn’t have a lot.

He goes to speak again, but nothing comes out.

He makes another attempt, and I can tell by the look on his face he desperately wants to talk to me, but he just can’t do it

He’s completely wracked with nerves.

I feel so sorry for him, as well as incredibly touched that he wants to talk to me so badly, so I try and reassure him, and get him to take his time.

It kind of helps, and he does calm down a little, but he still can’t say what he wants.

He sits on his ‘bed’, hands clasped in front of him in a praying position, and rocks slowly back and forward, willing himself to find the words, as well as the courage, to actually use them.

But he can’t.

His pain and anguish at not being able to do what he so desperately wants to do, is killing me, to the point that I can feel myself choking up.

I’ve had a few locals over the years, who have struggled with nerves when they’ve wanted to practice English with me, but nothing ever like this.

I really want to help him, so in an attempt to take the pressure off, I resort to using Google Translate to try and reassure him.

It somewhat works, as it gives him an out when he starts responding using the same.

His name is Tien, he’s 18 years old, and he lives in Bac Ha.

He’s travelling to Hanoi to study Chinese, and will then move to Taiwan to continue his studies.

He punches more words into his phone, and then hands it to me again.

I read it, and it says that he really, like REALLY, wants to talk to me, but he just can’t do it.

That, coupled with the look on his face, gets me again, and the choking feeling in my throat returns, but now also with a slight watering of my eyes.

Yep, he’s killing me.

We exchange a few more message, before the heat and stuffiness of the still stationery bus becomes too much, and we head back outside to sit on the step to wait out the rest of the ‘break’.

A bit more ‘chatting’, and then a second toilet stop just in case; well, it is free here; and then when I get back, it seems we’re finally ready to resume our journey to Hanoi.

Back on the bus; me on the left, Tien on the right; but with someone now between us, the conversation thing is now just too hard.

On the move by 12.00pm, but we come to a stop just two minutes later.  Yep, we need fuel.

Bus filled, and finally we’re on our way and quickly back on the expressway.

Bus #2….

Same old, same old driving, which while not that good, is also not that bad, and this guy, just like the previous driver, has an unhealthy love affair with his horn.

I manage to switch off, and instead, because I now have control over the window curtain, concentrate on the scenery we’re driving past, while also spending ridiculous amounts of time thinking about the interaction with Tien.

I’d love to try and help him, but right now it’s all too hard on the bus, so I decide to make sure I at least say goodbye to him once we reach the bus station.

The countryside soon begins to give way to the city, and at 12.45pm we get to the turn-off to the airport.

No airport stop this time, and we begin making our way towards Hanoi, while I try and look for any familiar roads and sights, to hopefully give me an idea of where I’m going to end up.

I recognise nothing, so I resort to Google Maps to follow our journey.

Reaching the Red River, and as we go across the bridge, I can see the bridge we usually use, when going to and from the airport, off into the distance on the left.

But only just, as the smog is making a clear view impossible.

Now knowing roughly where I am, but at the same time, not really knowing where I am, I start to think about how I’m going to get from the bus station, back to the Old Quarter.

Knowing, or at least believing, that a shuttle bus will likely be an option, I consider how that might pan out.

Having been at several bus stations in Vietnam over the years, and knowing how many of them look when your bus arrives, I quickly come to the conclusion that a shuttle bus transfer probably won’t be part of my solution.

Two reasons for that; one, the mayhem and madness that is most bus stations we’ve been to, will make finding where I need to go, on my own, pretty much impossible, and two, having someone take you under their wing and show you exactly where you need to be to get it, is highly unlikely.

Not helped of course, by the usual language barrier issues.

That’s okay, I do have a plan, should what I think I’m going to find, actually be what I find, when we get there.

The Red River behind us, we continue on.  Google Maps continues to tell me where we are, but really, all it’s telling me is I ain’t walking back to the Old Quarter.

We eventually reach the bus station around 1.15pm, and a quick look out the window suggests I’m probably not going to bother with the shuttle bus option.

If it is even an option.

The bus pulls up, doors open, and yep, confirmation that it’s similar to other bus stations, and absolute confirmation that I will not be bothering with the shuttle bus.

There are people everywhere, with a number of them peering inside the bus touting their transport offers, and even more behind them, waiting for their opportunity.

Yep, no surprises there, and the decision is an easy one; ignore all offers, and get out of the bus station as quickly as I can.

Bag grabbed, shoes reattached to my feet, and off the bus.  It’s crowded and noisy, and could perhaps even be described as a little intimidating.

In all the goings on, I’ve lost sight of Tien, and looking around me, I’m highly unlikely to be able to spot him now.

I’m so disappointed about that, as I really wanted to say goodbye to him.

Transport offers, of which there were quite a few, are politely declined, and I make my out of the bus station, and onto the street.

Even out here the offers continue, so I move on further down the street, and then cross over to the other side where there’s an outside restaurant.

Grab App is opened, destination inputted, fare of 52 000 Dong to the Emerald pops up.

Before I’ve even had a chance to look up from my phone, there’s a guy in a green Grab jacket and helmet in front of me.

Amazing, and just so, so easy.

Onto the back of the bike, and on the move by 1.30pm.  The overhead railway line, the one we followed for a time while heading to Mu Cang Chai with Toan last year, comes into view.

While I kind of, roughly, knew where we were, the bus station actually feels much further from the Old Quarter than it appeared on the map.

Finally, after looking for a familiar landmark to give me some bearings, it happens, and I know we’re not far off now.

Into the Old Quarter, and over to Hang Manh street, pulling up outside the Emerald just before 2.00pm.

The 52 000 Dong fare is rounded up to 60 000 Dong, helmet returned to my very safe and courteous driver / rider, and I head inside.

Jenny is at the desk, and as I walk in, I announce that I’m ‘home’!, which it really does feel like.

She seems happy to see me, as I am to see her, and it’s good to be back.

We sit and chat for a bit, retrieving the bag that had kindly been looked after while I was gone, and then I head up to my, and soon to be Lisa’s, room for the next nine nights.

Back up to the same floor I was on a bit over a week ago, but this time my room is at the front of the building, which not only gives me a window, but also extra space as well.

Bag emptied, and it’s nice to finally get rid of, at least for now, the plastic zip-lock bags that have been keeping my clothes relatively neat and organised.

Outside to do something about lunch, and with a desire for a bánh mì, I head up to Bánh My Mama’s.

A bánh mì with pork skewer (20 000 Dong) ordered and received, and I continue on to St Joseph’s, stopping, due to the fact that, as usual, I’m unable to resist, to take a photo of it.

Can’t help it….

Down to Hang Hanh; still love the street, but happy we’ve moved on; and then across and up to Ma May Street, and 1984 Tattoo Studio, to keep an appointment with Hip, who wants to see how my tattoos are healing.

She’s happy, and mentions that she’d like to see Lisa, and her tattoo, when she arrives.

“No problem!”

Back outside, a bit of aimless walking to get reacquainted with my beloved Hanoi, and then finding myself back near the Emerald, I take the opportunity to visit my nước mía đá guy, who gives me a smile when he sees me.

Down to do a lap of the lake while enjoying my incredibly refreshing iced sugarcane, and then back to the Emerald for a quick pit stop, before heading out again by 4.00pm, because, well, it’s 4.00pm, and that means it’s time.

Cannot imagine a visit that didn’t include at least one lap of it.

Through Stainless Steel Street; it’s great to see it again; and then up Bat Dan to my beer place.

The young guy recognises me, and I’m quickly back with a beer in front of me, doing my favourite thing.

The usual sights, and some of the usual faces, too.  Including the grumpy looking, and quite arrogant, pyjama guy, who I remember from last year.

Proof that lasting impressions aren’t necessarily good….

First beer almost done, my beer guy asks if I’d like another.  The question that didn’t need to be asked is answered, and he returns with a new glass.

But there’s a problem, and that is that almost half the glass is filled with beer froth, and therefore too little of the actual beer that I covet.

With a little finger pointing and hand signalling, I get my point across, with a smile and a little humour, and he disappears with my glass.

He returns a few seconds later, and with the beer / froth ratio now rectified, all is good with the world, as he hands it over with a little wry smile.

A few messages sent back home to let people know I’m still alive, along with a bit of texting to a certain person in England.

Third beer arrives, and I can see the beer pouring lesson has stuck, with another perfect beer delivered, again with a smile.

He’s a good kid, and I love that I have this little relationship with him.

Just before 6.00pm, and it’s time to make a move.  Back down Bat Dan, and into Stainless Steel Street, with a quick stop at my convenience store.

My girl is there, and remembers as soon as I walk in.  It’s good to see her again.

A selection of Hanoi beer and Saigon beer, at 13 000 Dong and 14 000 Dong respectively, and then back to the Emerald for a shower.

Dinner time, and because it’s both good and close, it’s around the corner to the phở bò place.

Like a week and a bit ago, it doesn’t disappoint, with the broth just beautiful.  Dinner (50 000 Dong), a couple of Saigon beers (20 000 Dong each), all while sitting on a small plastic stool on a footpath in Hanoi; I could do this night after night.

A young couple sit down at the next table, along with their little fluffy poodle type dog.  While they both enjoy their phở, the girl fishes out pieces of beef, lining them up neatly on the edge of the ‘table’, for the dog.

It’s kind of cute, but I can’t help but the think the guy is pretty much screwed, in that he will never be taken care of, and fussed over, as well as the dog is.

More sitting, more watching, and more evidence of those electronic transfer payments, and yes, even at what is a street food stall.

I really hope it wasn’t a thing last year, because up until just a day ago, I’d never noticed it.

Dinner done, and it’s back up to Bat Dan.

My young guy gives me an acknowledging smile as he sees me arrive, and he heads off to deal with my request, before I’ve even made my request.

Seat taken, beer delivered, and I sit back to take in my surroundings, which is essentially same, same as this afternoon, but always different.

A group of guys on the table in front of me are drinking some sort of wine from the usual shot glasses, but it’s a little bit different in that the wine is actually served from a bowl, using a wooden, or maybe bamboo, ladle.

Having not seen that before, it has me wondering if there’s difference, or a reason, that it needs to be ladled.

Knowing I’m likely to be no chance of direct conversation with the one closest to me, I revert to Google Translate, punching in ‘Rice’? and ‘Corn’?

He shakes his head, and then uses Google to reply.

I’m not sure if something got lost in translation, but the word ‘tree’ appears on his phone.

While that now has me even more perplexed, I realise that we’ve probably reached the limit of accurate translation for the night.

Regardless, I give him a cảm ơn, and decide to return to my beer.

But as I do, he ladles whatever wine is in the bowl into a couple of shot glasses, and hands one to me with a smile.

A quick ‘Cheers’, and with much appreciation from me, I partake in my first ‘ladled’ wine.

I still have no idea if it’s rice or corn, or some other fruit or vegetable, but it’s good.  And incredibly smooth.

Seeing that I enjoyed it, he pours me a second one.

This now has me feeling a little guilty, as this was never the intention when I first asked the question.

But I know that I can’t knock it back, because his offer is as genuine as it comes, and I’m just not prepared to hurt his feelings.

Second one had, and I give him a heartfelt cảm ơn, truly so appreciative that he took the time to interact with me.

The wine, and the ladle that delivered it.

Just that little bit happier, and no, not because there’s now some kind of wine entering my bloodstream, I return to the world watching thing.

The rubbish and recycling ladies, still doing their thing, the occasional tourist, or tourists, walking past.

Including some of the ‘couples’, often led by the woman, with the male obediently following, glancing forlornly across at the beer being served, but knowing full well that it’s an exercise in pointlessness to even ask the question.

There is some sympathy there, but it is rather funny to watch.

More sitting, more watching, a reacquainting with one of the cats, along with, of course, a few more beers.

My young guy returns with another, but as he gets near me, he notices the froth to beer ratio in the glass.

With no prompting or comment from me, he disappears, before returning with a far more appropriate ratio, as well as a rather large smile.

I love it, and I love that he remembers our little ‘beer 101’ lesson, and that he actually cares.

And this, to me, is what it’s all about.  It’s the small, and often most seemingly insignificant, interactions that eventuate.

Those little moments that happen, when you get an opportunity, or take the time, to just put it out there; it just amazes me some of the stuff that comes back.

It can turn nothing moments into memorable moments, and maybe even one off interactions into a relationship.

Yep, I love it!

My wine ladle guy and his mates start getting ready to leave, but before they do, he hands me another shot of whatever wine it is.

Glasses once again clinked, and shot then downed.

I give him another heartfelt cảm ơn, as well as shake his hand, and as he heads off, he leaves me shaking my head at his genuineness, and preparedness to interact with me.

These people just blow me away.

Time to also make a move, so my 13 000 Dong beers are paid for, a most definite hẹn gặp lại given, and I head off back down Bat Dan street.

A guy on a motorbike, wearing a Grab helmet, approaches, and offers, in a whispering voice, “Lady massage?”

I politely decline, but it gets me thinking about why he felt the need to whisper so quietly.  Was he being discreet for my benefit, or was he more concerned about someone else hearing of his line of business and offer?

Not sure, but the way it was delivered made me laugh.

Down onto Stainless Steel Street, and then into my convenience store for supplies.  Again, that little interaction with my incredibly friendly girl.

Down the end, past the yellow seat touts – noooo thank you! – and then into Hang Manh and up to the Emerald.

Anh is at the desk, so I stop for a chat about my trip, as well as what I missed while I was away.

Seems I missed plenty, which sounds like that was good, as my foray off North coincided with a visit to Hanoi by US President, Joe Biden.

Apparently numerous streets were blocked off at different times, resulting in journeys to the airport taking two hours, instead of the usual roughly 45 minutes.

By the way Anh talked about it all, it sounds like it was a rather stressful and frustrating period for a lot of people spending time in Hanoi.

Glad I missed it….

Chat done; he’s such a great guy and just so easy to talk to; I head upstairs around 10.30pm for the usual on the bed.

While I had a fantastic time up North, it’s good to be back in what I consider my second home.

Thirtieth sleep without Lisa about to begin, and just one more full day remaining without seeing her.

I can’t believe it’s almost here, but it’s also concerning, as tomorrow marks the halfway point of the trip.

I really need to try and not think about that….

Bed around 11.45pm, yep, too late again, and the plan tomorrow is a walk.

Not sure where, but Banana Island could be an option.

We’ll see….

Cheers,

Scott