Vietnam 2023 – Trip Report 19

Saturday 16 September – Hanoi

Another slow-ish start, not getting up till just after 8.00am.

Downstairs around 8.30am, and this time we both disappoint the breakfast staff, choosing just fruit, along of course with a cà phê sữa đá.

We sit, eat, savour the coffee, chat a little, but the chatting comes to an abrupt end when I check my emails, and I notice a surname that stands out immediately.

It’s come through the blog, and it’s an email related to a hobby of mine, which is researching past players of the Preston Football Club, who played Australian rules football in the Victorian Football Association.

While the club was around for 100 years or so; it still exists, but now in a slightly different form; it’s the period from the mid 1920’s to the end of the 1941 season that interests me so much.

And the reason for that is because my Grandfather played for them in the late 1930’s.

Anyway, back to the email, and more specifically, the surname on it.

It’s a name that I immediately recognise, due to the fact that there was a player of the same name playing when my Grandfather was there.

And reading the email quickly confirms the link, with the writer being the daughter of my Grandfather’s team mate.

While being contacted by descendants of some of these old players isn’t a common occurrence, it has happened a few times when someone comes across a mention I’ve made of their father, or uncle, or whoever, on the blog.

But when it does happen, it absolutely blows me away.  Firstly, that they’ve taken the time to reach out, and second, they give me a type of connection to somebody I’d only ever read about, with those readings usually coming from scanned copies of old newspapers.

Vietnam related stuff, and our day, is put on hold, which gives Lisa a chance to play with her phone, and I ‘chat’, via email, with a woman I’ve never met, but one who I now have something in common with.

A few emails back and forth, before the promise is made to forward a few things I’ve found on her father, that she may not have seen, when we get back home.

Upstairs to get organised, and then back down to chat to Jenny about our little challenge for the day, which is a picture frame.

A bit of Googling and map studying, and the suggestion is the road that runs up towards the Temple of Literature.

We now have a plan, albeit a rather loose and fluid one, but a plan nonetheless, and I’m very happy about that, as it involves a walk.

A walk that will be along relatively unfamiliar streets, with the potential to see stuff we haven’t seen before, but also to an area, that while we’ve driven / ridden past a couple of times, we haven’t really seen since we first ventured up that way in May 2016.

Up Hang Manh, right onto Hang Bong, and then up towards the railway line, before a voice from behind suggests I’m walking too fast.

Okay….but how do we know it’s me walking too fast, and it’s not the intrepid one walking too slow?

I decide it’s best I don’t ask the question out loud.

We reach the busy and confusing junction, that while we’ve walked through it many times, I still don’t know how many roads intersect it, and rather than taking our usual route of Dien Bien Phu, we veer across to the left.

A bit further up, just before the railway line, we come across a framing place, and while the fact that I can see a selection of mat boards is promising, a lot of the framing materials that I can see, look a little elaborate for our tastes.

But here’s the thing; is ‘too elaborate’ for us, pretty much perfect for a Vietnamese local?

I don’t actually know, but right now, neither of us can bring ourselves to order something so ‘ornate’, for want of a better word.

The decision is made to keep going, partly to see what other options may be found, and partly just to walk and explore an area we’ve not seen for so long.

Further up the street, and realising we’re not actually on the street we set out to be on, we make a slight adjustment by veering right.

Reaching Nguyen Thai Hoc Street, it pays off, when we see several framing places.  But again, it’s not really what we’re looking for, and while there is some actual manufacturing of the frames themselves, there’s also a lot with pre-framed prints and photos.

And much of it in that elaborate and glitzy style.

On we go, no shortage of frame places, but also no shortage of what looks to be unsuitable frame places, and it’s really not going that well.

A thought enters my mind that we should just go back to the first place we saw, but not convinced we’ll have success there anyway, we push on to that place we haven’t really seen in seven and a half years.

The Temple of Literature.

The very place that inspired a tattoo, even though I didn’t realise the symbol was actually of the temple, when I first saw it.

Again, a place associated with education and intelligence, now permanently adhered to my body.

Yep, doesn’t make a lot of sense….

We reach the Temple of Literature, and turn left, and almost immediately, we go from being the only people that look like us, to being two of lots of people who look like us.

Past Koto restaurant, which I’ve often heard about, then past a selection of tails, which used to be attached to some undetermined animal, hanging out the front of a shop.

Getting closer to the main entrance, and along with a marked increase in western tourists, there’s also the associated touts that signify you’re in close proximity to a tourist site.

It’s a reminder of how much I dislike tourist attractions.

Touts beaten off with words, rather than a stick, and then a quick photo in front of the place that was designed and built based on a tattoo that adorns my arm.

Or something like that….

The temple and the tattoo.

Seven and a half years after it was first seen, I, and probably we, have seen enough, so we make a hasty retreat from where we’ve just come from.

Down the side street, the touts still trying their luck, and then back to Nguyen Thai Hoc Street, this time crossing it, once we finally get a break in the traffic, to check out the opposite side.

From a picture frame perspective, we don’t have any luck, but we do come across some sign makers.

A couple of guys out on the footpath, heating strips of plastic with a blow torch, and then bending to the required shape and glueing it in place.

While it’s so labour intensive, it’s fascinating to watch them go about it, and I have huge admiration for their skill and attention to detail.

I think they might have been a little surprised at our interest in what they were doing, but judging by the acknowledging smiles they gave us, I think they enjoyed the attention.

Lesson in hand-made signs had, along with a new appreciation for said signs, we continue our walk back in the direction of the Old Quarter.

Street adjustment made like earlier, and we’re once again back on the ‘wrong’ street where we found our first picture frame place.

I’m just not sure if we’re going to get what we want, but seeing a lady next door with a nước mía đá cart, we decide it’s probably time for a break.

Two ordered (10 000 Dong each) from the incredibly friendly vendor, and we’re quickly seated on the footpath.

A little Googling of frame places that are elsewhere in Hanoi, and the more I look, the harder it all becomes.

I give up and return my attention to my nước mía đá, while also watching the guy in the framing shop expertly, and very efficiently, cut up lengths of framing material.

Our framing place.

With the whole frame purchasing exercise teetering on the edge of the cliff of failure, I decide to bite the bullet.

Lisa’s not sure, but I can guarentee she’s no more less sure than me, as I make a move towards the shop, with Google Translate already open in my phone.

We walk in, and the guy cutting up the frame, along with another guy in there, immediately call out to someone out the back.

A third guy appears, and we’re greeted with, “Hello, how can I help?”

Stunned?

You could have knocked me over with a small offcut of picture frame mat board!

I manage to stammer out, “English?”, to which he responds, “Some”.

It turns out he lied, as he has far, far more than just ‘some’ English.

Plain frame, with mat board, is easily understood, and we begin the process of choosing frame style and mat colour.

A number of possibilities is whittled down to plain black frame, with a blue coloured mat board, and one of the other guys comes across to punch stuff into a nearby computer.

Price calculated, and our English speaking guy turns to us and says, “90 000 Dong, take ten minutes”.

“Done!”, I respond, with perhaps a bit more excitement than necessary, followed by, “Can we watch?”

“Of course!”, our frame saviour replies, with a smile.

So we do, and by the end of it, I’m blown away by their speed and efficiency to put it all together.

100 000 Dong note is handed over, along with a heartfelt cảm ơn, and I ensure his attempt at giving me change is a failure.

While we may have been able to get some cheap Chinese made frame at home for around the $6 Australian dollars we’ve just paid, it wouldn’t have come close to giving us the experience we’ve just had.  And honestly, I would have been happy to pay double that, for what we’ve just witnessed and done.

Yep, just one of those little things, but it never ceases to amaze me at how significant some of those ‘little’ moments can sometimes be.

Experience had and problem solved all in one hit, we make our way back to the Emerald.

Newly acquired purchase dropped off, quick chat with Jenny, and then out again a bit after 12.00pm with one of us having the view that we need to spend money on gifts for people back home.

The newly manufactured frame, now showing off Lisa’s artwork.

Across towards Dong Xuan market, via a couple of streets that are filled with incredibly colourful decorations for what I believe is to help celebrate the mid-Autumn festival.

We reach Dong Xuan, and head straight to the souvenir part, seeing as the desire is for some of those hand held bamboo fans.

I’ve already lost interest before we’ve even begun, and with a few around making it all a little busy, the decision is made, almost exclusively by me, to put the whole painful shopping thing off until another day.

Off to the more interesting parts of the market, including the spice section and the pet area that isn’t really a pet area at all.

Back outside, and a bit of aimless walking ensues, eventually resulting in us following the viaduct that holds the train line above.  Down a fairly narrow road, and we come across an incredibly busy bun cha restaurant set up on the street.

Being a little after 1.00pm, I look at Lisa in an enquiring way.  The resultant look tends to suggest an answer of no, and with no great desire to embark on a bout of convincing, I give it up and keep walking.

A few metres on, a voice from behind brings me to a stop.

“We really should eat there, seeing as how busy they are”, says the voice.

“Yes.  Yes, we should”, is my reply, very pleased that common sense has prevailed.

We head back, and even though there isn’t a great deal of room, they have no issues in managing to accommodate us.

Seats taken, bun cha quickly arrives, and not surprisingly, given the number of people here, it’s really good.

Food done, along with a trà đá each, as well as a great chat with a Japanese guy who is currently living in Thailand, we fix up the bill of 110 000 Dong, which is likely to be 50 000 Dong each, plus 10 000 Dong for the tea.

We continue following the train line, reaching the area where all the murals are, which, without fail whenever we find ourselves here, has Lisa immediately photographing them.

A bit further on we come across a young boy kicking a plastic ball around, so being the big kid I am, I stop to have a kick with him.

As is always the case whenever this happens, I am reminded how much better Vietnamese kids are at soccer, than I am.

Regardless, he still seemed to enjoy the interaction, but probably not more than I did.

My little soccer / football mate.

Game complete, but only because he wore me out, and we make our way back towards the Emerald, after walking past the ‘much feared’ thịt chó (dog meat) restaurants.

‘Home’ a bit after 2.00pm, and it’s time for a much needed rest and recovery session, along with a few notes.

The rest and recovery bit isn’t overly successful, with only a mere 10 minutes of sleep achieved, but it does at least help a little.

With our food tour tonight beginning at 5.30pm, I head up to Bat Dan a little earlier than usual, getting there at 3.30pm.

Seat taken, beer quickly arrives, and the local woman, who I spoke to the other day, then turns up.

Taking a seat nearby, she gives me an acknowledging smile, and then, in a kind of asking, but also slightly accusing, way, says “You still in Vietnam!?”, which I found rather funny.

We chat for a bit while she plays music on her phone, with one of the songs being ‘Top of the World’, by the Carpenters.

While ‘Top of the World’ doesn’t get me going today, I tell her I’m very pleased that she’s not playing the ‘Hello Vietnam’ song, which would, because it always does, reduce me to a sobbing mess.

She thinks it’s funny, but at the same time, I think she understands my emotional state when it comes to my love for her country.

Matty from Sydney turns up, and he’s not had a good day.  Nothing Hanoi has done to him, but more what has happened to his father back home, with some low life having managed to scam him out of a significant amount of money, following contact via WhatsApp.

He’s not happy, and feels a little useless being so far away.

We sit and chat, before I’m forced to make a move at 5.00pm, to ensure I’m ready in time for the food tour.

Back down Bat Dan, and onto Stainless Steel Street, with both streets being absolutely nuts with the amount of people about, enjoying their late Saturday afternoon.

Into Hang Manh, and then inside the Emerald.  Kate is at the desk, and she draws my attention to a girl sitting on the couch.

It’s Selina, one of our guides from Food Tour 1 Hanoi.

Aaaargh!!!!

She’s a bit early, but I still feel guilty, and I apologise profusely before I race upstairs to make myself look a little more presentable.

Back down by 5.30pm, and Lea, our second guide, has now also arrived.  Quick introductions, a bit of a chat, and it’s immediately clear just how lovely and friendly they are.

Onto the back of their bikes, and we’re soon out in the streets of the Old Quarter and heading in the direction of, and across, the Northern end of the lake.

Into Nguyen Huu Huan Street, and we reach our first stop, Café Giang.

Bikes parked, and we make our way down the narrow corridor, and then up the stairs.

It’s busy, but there’s no problem finding a seat.  Menu unnecessarily perused, seeing as the choice was always going to be what Café Giang is famous for, which is their egg coffee, and a few minutes later it arrives.

At Café Giang, with Selina and Lea.

While we’ve had it before, and actually had it here twice, it has been some time since the last.  It’s nice to be reminded of the flavour, of which I really like, but if I was forced to choose only one between egg coffee and cà phê sữa đá, the cà phê sữa đá would always win out.

Coffee done, we’re back on the bikes and on the move.  Up to the really busy road, and then towards Long Bien Bridge.  It’s now dark, but not dark enough that you can’t see big black clouds that look like they have the ability to make you wet.

And sure enough, that’s what they start to do.

We pull over to wrap ourselves in plastic, before heading on up to the bridge a bit after 6.00pm.

Being peak hour, there are people and their motorbikes and bicycles everywhere, and I absolutely love it.

Having walked across it, and under it, riding it has been on an unwritten list I’ve had for a while, and all this traffic congestion just adds to it.

We pull over at a bit of a parking area to take it all in, with the rain having now stopped, and the question is asked whether we’d like to continue ponchos-less.

I’m not convinced we’ve seen the last of the rain, with the belief that if do remove mine, it will only encourage the rain to once again do its thing.

I leave mine in place.

Long Bien Bridge.

On the move again, and we continue across to the far side of the bridge, before doing a u-turn, which is really a loop, and heading back in the direction of the Old Quarter.

Our timing is excellent, as a train makes its way towards us.

Back to pretty much where we started, and we wait for Lisa and Lea to catch up, after Lisa decided to video the train, like all the ‘train street’ lovers like to do, as it went past.

Reunited, we continue on, just as that rain returns.

While leaving the poncho on didn’t keep the rain at bay, I can’t help but feel a little smug with my decision.

Somewhere up over the railway line, somewhere sort of on the way to West Lake, we pull over again at a shop / house, where some locals are wrapping a sticky rice treat.

Sample offered, and sample taken, we partake while standing out the front, watching them go about their business.

The snack is nice, even though sweet sticky things aren’t really my thing, especially on a Saturday when I’d rather be doing beer related things, but Lisa really enjoys it.

As she always does…..

On we go, and we soon reach West and Truc Bach lakes, making our way onto the island on Truc Bach.

Bikes parked, ponchos removed now that the rain has stopped, and we make our way down a very colourful and well lit up, but now also very wet, street.

Reaching a restaurant, we head in, and make our way upstairs.  First beer of the night ordered, and the girls look after the food side of things, which I am more than happy about.

The food was excellent, and while I’d like to describe in minute detail everything about the dish, the extent of my describing ability is a beef and vegetable sir fry dish, along with phở cuốn.

It was all really good, and I thoroughly enjoyed it, but really, for me, it was just all about chatting to the girls and hearing a little about their lives, which at the moment, revolves mainly around studying at university.

First dinner done, we head back out to the bikes and then make our way off the island.

Onto the road between the two lakes, and then off into some very local streets, we reach a bia hoi place a few minutes later.

While I know roughly where we are, I’ve had too much fun just watching the world go by from the back of the bike to be too aware of our exact location.

It’s one of the reasons I have no desire to ever ‘drive’ myself, while in Vietnam.  Not that Australians can legally do that, anyway.

A couple of beers, and more chatting, along with a number of looks from several locals that suggest they don’t see too many western tourists around here.

I like that.

Time for our next stop, so it’s back on the bikes.  The vague awareness of where we are in relation to certain parts of Hanoi disappears completely, due to a complete and utter lack of concentration, along with a fair amount of it all really being of no importance to me, with the act of merely sitting on the back of a bike watching the ‘sights’ unfold around me, being far more important.

We reach an area with some food vendors set up, which seems to be outside a local market.

Taking a seat at one, we’re offered fresh fruit juice, along with pork skewers, which again, is all really good.

Back to the bikes, and then not too far away, another very local place, just off the main road, and not too far down a rather quiet street.

This time it’s pork rice paper rolls; some sort of prawn thing; fried pillow-y, pastie, pocket things; and a clear confirmation that I’m really, really hopeless at remembering the vast majority of any important food details.

I feel really bad about that, but the whole food and eating thing just isn’t that important to me, with a simple beer and a chat, being more my thing.

We reach a point where I’m not sure it’s physically possible to put more food in, and keep it down, so even though there is still one more stop, it’s decided that in the interests of keeping things nice, it’s probably best we give it a miss.

A little more chatting, along with some translating, but maybe more guessing, of a nearby Vietnamese sign, which impresses Selina far more than it probably should, and we jump back on the bikes to head back to the Old Quarter.

Unfamiliar roads become slightly more familiar, including Nguyen Thai Hoc, which I find rather amusing seeing as where we walked this morning.

Down to the Dien Bien Phu intersection, and then back to the Emerald via the long way, due to the fact that there are more one-way streets than I was aware of.

Yep, a bit like food, I don’t always notice……

We pull up outside the hotel around 10.45pm, and despite the fact that we’ve been going for a good five hours, it has absolutely flown by.

Selina and Lea have been absolutely amazing, just so incredibly friendly and knowledgeable, as well as so, so easy to talk to.

And the tour itself?

It was fantastic, and a bit like the XO Foodie Tour in Saigon, this tour is just a brilliant introduction to city of Hanoi.

We bid our farewells to the girls, forever grateful for the way they showed us around, and while Lisa heads upstairs, I make my way up to one of the convenience stores a few doors up.

Beers at 20 000 Dong, and Coke at 15 000 Dong, which while not a lot different, is still a bit more expensive than my girl around the corner.

They’re also not as friendly as my girl around the corner, so a mental note is made.

Upstairs and onto the bed for the usual, along with a few notes that are highly unlikely to help with any meaningful food recollection.

But that was all overshadowed a little, with copious amounts of contemplation about what we’ve just seen and done.

As well as a fair amount of thinking about how we ended up here.

It all started with meeting Khoi a few years ago, and then Quan last year, and now we’ve had the opportunity to get a taste of a tour that the two of them have wanted to set up for some time.

Yep, amazing, and truly appreciative of being asked to be one of the first to experience it.

Another beer, and then at 12.45am, it’s called.

Yep, again, far too late, but we do sort of have an excuse tonight.

Cheers,

Scott