Vietnam 2023 – Trip Report 21

Monday 18 September – Hanoi

Awake at 8.30am, and yep, 12.30am is just a little too late.

But with our Hanoi days fast disappearing, I don’t actually want them to end.  And giving up and going to sleep means they end.

And yes, I know that doesn’t really make sense, when we then lose hours the next day when we sleep-in.

Recalling yesterday’s realisation on the possible slight unwellness thing I may or may not have, I remain in the horizontal position, still trying to fully wake up, while contemplating how it all is today.

Well, my throat is a little sore, I have a bit of a headache, and there are definitely some muscle aches, along with some lethargy.

None of those things are excruciatingly painful or uncomfortable, but there is something definitely there.

Great…..

Downstairs for the usual breakfast of fruit, namely watermelon, pineapple, and some of that fruit that looks impressive, interesting, exotic, and full of promise, but only truly delivers on three of those things – dragon fruit.

Yes, I know.  It’s still good, but it’s just not as good as you expect it to be, when you see it all dressed up in its brightly coloured ‘clothes’.

And then, of course, all washed down with the usual cà phê sữa đá.

We chat with David, as well as Jenny and Kate, and apparently the weather is good today.

No rain; not that we’ve had much since that day last week I stood waiting at a bus stop for a bus that was never going to arrive; and being Autumn, the hot days, apparently, are over, with everything cooling down.

It’s good about the rain, and while the slightly cooler weather sounds nice, I can’t help but think back to this time last year, when we were here feeling hotter than we’d ever felt during a Hanoi autumn.

So yeah, while I always listen to, and trust, a local, there are times when I quietly question some things.

Breakfast done, weather report received, we head outside about 10.45am to begin our day.

The loose plan is pretty much aimless walking; but with the desire to find the B52 in the dirty looking lake again, it’s probably not really aimless walking at all.

Although, with a preference, or hope, that we will come across a few streets that we’ve not seen before, perhaps that’ll help classify as ‘aimless’.

Up Hang Manh, onto Hang Bong, and then to Dien Bien Phu.  Over the railway line, guard and barricade protecting the Instagrammers from themselves, and then up past the War Museum, and Lenin keeping watch over the road.

While it is slightly cooler than yesterday, the beads of sweat that have begun the bonding of t shirt to skin, cause me to think back to our weather forecast of cooler autumnal weather.

There’s no sun, but there’s also no shortage of humidity.

Past all the Embassies, and we reach the Mausoleum.  But rather than veer around to the right in front of it, like we always seem to do, we head left, which should take us to the entrance.

I say should, because quite embarrassingly, I don’t believe we’ve ever actually walked this road.

And it’s probably even more embarrassing, because this is the way, I believe anyway, to the One Pillar Pagoda, and possibly even Ho Chi Minh’s stilt house, both of which we’ve not seen.

Yep, just a little embarrassing, and really, we probably need to rectify that.

Sure enough, the entrance is found, and while we had no intention of actually going inside, we now have the option of perhaps going into the grounds, where we would be able to get some slightly different photos than the ones that we are always forced to take.

We make a move towards the guard at the security check, but before we even really get close, the guard shakes his head while pointing at Lisa’s legs.  Or specifically, her shorts.

Yep, they are too short, with them being just above the knee.

Okay, no problem at all, mainly said in a hand using and head nodding way, knowing that English is probably not going to be understood.

I’m far from disappointed, seeing as we never had any intention of entering the grounds, and in some ways, I’m more happy in the fact that we learnt something.

We continue on, and almost immediately we’re approached by a guy offering to sell – well, I think sell, as we didn’t stop to have the conversation, a pair of pants to rectify Lisa’s knee issue.

The offer is politely declined, as too are the next three or four offers for the same.

Quite the little business, but probably not surprising, seeing as what we just found out.

We soon find ourselves on a road that looks very familiar, and this is confirmed when we come across a nước mía đá cart, we used the last time we were up this way.

It feels like yesterday, but it blows my mind when I realise it was actually six years ago, and way back in 2017.

That’s scary, and I can’t help but wonder where all that time went.

The photo, initially, was going to be all about the flowers, but then our flower lady improved it by wanting to be a part of it, too.

So much potential to go so horribly wrong….

We turn off to the right, and up ahead on the right, as expected, is lake number one.

It was the lake that we first came across when searching for the wreckage back in 2017, and it’s good to see it again.

Probably more because it confirms my recollections from that day.

But my attention is temporarily drawn away from the lake, as a small – and rather insignificant I might add, road rage incident unfolds, on the road we’re walking along.

A Grab bike guy, and an older guy on a bike, both blaming each other for the misunderstanding, but neither aware that it was all the fault of a third party, who had managed to bring them together.

It was quite amusing to watch, but being very minor, and with no damage done, they soon calmed down and continued on their way.

‘Road rage’ incidents here in Vietnam always stand out to me, and that’s pretty much been since day one on that first trip.

With the way the traffic works, and with the sheer volume of it, I’d always expected to see a lot of examples of it.  But I just haven’t; with the worst of it, on most occasions, being nothing more than the rolling of eyes and the shaking of heads.

We come across a café overlooking the lake, and with it now around 11.30am, and it also being over two hours since the last, the decision to partake of a cà phê sữa đá is a very easy one indeed.

Two ordered, seat taken under umbrellas right at the lake’s edge, and before the coffees have even arrived, some big black threatening looking clouds that had rolled in, begin to do their thing.

Looking ominous….

While the timing of the café couldn’t have been planned any better, I can’t help but, once again, think back to our forecast of cooler, and dry, as in no rain, earlier this morning.

However it matters not, as there is something very therapeutic and mesmerising watching rain come down, especially when it’s falling into a body of water.

Although one caveat on that, is that it helps immensely if you can remain dry whilst doing so.

The coffees arrive, and the rain continues, which is more than okay, as there is no desire to rush the savouring of our cà phê sữa đá’s.

While the rain is nothing like last Thursday, it’s still pretty heavy at times, but nothing a slight adjustment of seating positions under our rather substantial and effective umbrellas, can’t handle.

Almost an hour after it started, it finally stops, and we continue on our quest for the B52, after fixing up the 50 000 Dong coffee bill.

Into the narrow lanes, which are pretty quiet, being lunchtime-ish, and then I direct Lisa off to the right.

“How do you know it’s this way?”, the intrepid and doubting one asks.

“I just do. I remember from last time”, is my response, but judging by the look I received, I’m not sure she believes me.

But she should, because I do.

Up a little bit further, and there, over on the right, are the mangled remains of the B52 in Huu Tiep Lake, which is probably more pond like, than lake like.

We’ve made it; Lisa’s a little surprised, but if I’m honest, the whole thing looks a little more underwhelming than last time.

But that’s okay, because like most of these things, it’s more about the journey than the destination.

A few photos; yes, it ain’t St Joseph’s, but still; and then we start making our way back.  But this time around the block to walk streets that we’ve not, with the reason being, because we’ve not.

Found it!  Again.

Leaving the narrower roads we return to a more main road, which isn’t really that ‘main’ at all.

Everything is wet from the earlier rain, and I quickly lose count of the number of puddles we step in, as well as the number of times dirty water splashes up our legs when loose pavers are stepped on.

Initially it’s an ‘aaaargh’ moment, but it quickly becomes the norm, and anyway, it’s nothing a few seconds washing your feet in water flowing down the gutter can’t fix.

Points of interest, or just simply interesting stuff, are a little scarce around here, apart from finding a museum which appears to be dedicated to Ho Chi Minh.

I’m not really that interested in a museum right now, but it does make me stop and think that it may have something that I could really use at the moment, and that is a toilet.

I see a sign that indicates there is one nearby in the grounds of the museum, but I’m now not sure if it’s public enough that anyone can just walk in off the street.

With it being doubtful that I’ll reach the Emerald without intervention, I approach a security guard at one of the entrances.

Google Translate is utilised, and he points us in the right direction.

We head in, both taking advantage, and then head back out past the guard, giving him a hugely appreciative cảm ơn as we go.

Unfamiliar streets quickly become familiar again, and we find ourselves heading towards the entrance to the Mausoleum we passed earlier.

The pant selling touts are still there, and as we walk past them, they offer their product, while indicating by pointing to Lisa’s legs, that we won’t be allowed in as we are.

Now knowing the requirement, that’s okay, and their advances are politely turned down.

Down to the Mausoleum, and as is Lisa’s way, she offers friendly xin chào’s as we pass the guards of the area, which are acknowledged, more often than not, with friendly smiles.

They may just be a bit more giving over this side, compared to what we’ve been used to on the other side….

Onto Dien Bien Phu, a bit up from the Lenin statue, and there’s traffic everywhere.  Not only that, the police are up and about, waving batons and blowing whistles at cars and bikes.

Not really sure what is going on, but we have seen motorcades up this way, which is perhaps not that surprising, given the number of Embassies up here.

We watch for a bit, but then move on, reaching the now very wet, and thus treacherous, pavers in the park.

And not just treacherous enough for a person wearing the inappropriate footwear of thongs, but also a Grab guy on a motorbike, who is gingerly picking up his bike, along with the Grab Food he was transporting, off those said pavers.

We manage to complete it unscathed, and then get the opportunity to cross to the other side.  The police seem to have ramped up whatever it is that they’re doing, with much whistle blowing and arm and baton waving going on.

Stopping again to see what it’s all about, I realise the road has now been completely cleared, with hundreds of bikes and cars now stationery at the intersection with a side ride.

That imminent motorcade I thought might be happening then begins, and as cars and trucks make their way up Dien Bien Phu, the realisation hits that the only sound I can hear, is that of the vehicles in the actual motorcade.

The cars and bikes which I can see waiting patiently at the intersection, are making absolutely no noise at all.  And no, for the first time in three weeks, I cannot hear a bike or car horn.  It all has a strange and weird feel to it, and as Lisa keeps talking to me while we watch, I feel the need to ask her to be quiet.

Not because I’m sick of her voice; which never happens….; but more that with it being so quiet, I just feel that it’s just the right thing to do.

Official looking car follows official looking car, and as I prepare to take a photo, several trucks, first carrying police in the back, then military personnel sporting guns with bayonets, drive past.

I decide that taking a photo may not be such a good idea, so I lower the camera and simply watch.

More cars, more trucks with police and military, a couple of ambulances, and then confirmation that putting the camera away was probably a good idea, when a truck carrying a coffin on the back goes past.

Ahhhh, right, it all becomes clear.  But not as clear as I’d like, as I would dearly love to know who the person was, that he, or she, should receive such an impressive motorcade and ‘send off’.

The last official vehicle goes past, and as it does, the noise of bikes, cars and horns immediately returns, as everyone in the vicinity continues on with their day.

As strange as the feel to the whole thing was, it was an incredibly interesting thing to see, and one that, again, just made me want to know more.

Down to the train line, then into the Old Quarter, and needing to do something about lunch, we head to Bánh My Mama’s.

There’s a few there, so we wander down to St Joseph’s; yep, another photo….; to wait it out a little.

The earlier rain is almost a distant memory, but now the sun is out, and it’s hot.  Like real hot!  And also incredibly humid.

I’ve felt okay so far, but I think with the walking we’ve done, and now the heat, I’m being reminded that all is not perfect in the land of wellness.  It’s just becoming so draining, and the feeling of lethargy is a real battle.

Back to Bánh My Mama’s, and with the queue now shorter, it’s not long before we’re back in their lane enjoying our pork skewer bánh mì’s (40 000 Dong).

Lunch done, we begin making our way back to the Emerald, bumping into David along the way.

He too looks a little hot and bothered, and agrees, there is nothing autumnally cool about today, despite the forecast we were given this morning.

Back to the Emerald a bit after 2.00pm, and a rest and recovery session is much required.  It actually works, with almost 30 minutes of sleep being achieved, which certainly helps.

Somewhat recovered, but now sick of being in the room, I head back out around 3.00pm, leaving Lisa, who is clearly not sick of being in the room.

Down Hang Manh, and then around the corner to my nước mía đá guy, who greets me with his usual acknowledging smile.

Back to the hotel, and I sit and chat with Jenny and Kate, while my nước mía đá cup accumulates copious amounts of condensation, due to the excessive heat and humidity, which, perhaps not surprisingly, brings up the topic of weather forecasts.

Yes, I’m not quite prepared to let that particular subject go, just yet…..

Back upstairs to let Lisa know I’m still alive, and then back out again a touch after 4.00pm.  Yellow chair touts dodged, and then up Bat Dan to begin doing my thing.

The local lady who seems to have a similar timetable to me, arrives as I do, and we sit close by and have a brief chat.

Her male companion arrives just after, and acknowledges me with a smile and hello when he sees me.

I love it, I feel like such a local.

Matty from Sydney rocks up a few minutes later, and it’s like we caught up just an hour ago, with him being so easy to talk to.

He’s made the decision to move on from Hanoi tomorrow, with his next stop being Ninh Binh.  But today he’s spent most of his time procrastinating over some original artwork he’s seen in a shop in the Old Quarter.

I can tell he loves it, but he also has doubts, with those doubts being mainly about potentially being ripped off.

I’m really not an art person, so I’m a bit useless with such things, but my thinking is that if you really love something that much, then go for it, enjoy it, and forget about what you paid for it.

He decides to procrasinate some more, with the hope that the beer may help.

More beer, more chatting, more watching.  The polystyrene guy carrying more of the stuff on his bike than I thought possible, and then my Hạt Dẻ guy and his cart with microwave, and still no extension lead in sight…..

Close to 6.00pm, and with tonight being Matty’s last in Hanoi, it’s agreed we’ll meet back here after dinner.

Back to the Emerald, up for a quick shower, and then out for that dinner, with the thinking being that tonight it will be phở gà, at a street food place we’ve been to a couple of times, on the corner of Stainless Steel Street.

We get there, and there really aren’t many around.  I feel nervous, wondering if things have changed, until those nerves get the better of me, and the plan is aborted.

Plan B is put into action, with that plan being to make our way a bit further up Bat Dan, to another phở place we’ve been to a few times.

We head up, and yep, as usual, they’re busy, but we’re quickly found a seat.  Phở gà is still the end result, along with Bia Hanoi in big bottles (which I love, but which seem to be getting rarer these days), helped along with đá (ice) in glasses.

Dinner!

The phở, as expected, is good, and good enough for me to encourage a very nervous, and apprehensive, looking young western family, to also partake.

They do, which pleases me greatly, and I can’t help but think back to a certain family, who first visited here with their two kids in 2014, who also spent a fair bit time with the same looks on their faces, along with similar amounts of apprehension.

Yep, was a steep learning curve, and while we still have our moments, we have come a long way.

Dinner done, bill of 2 x 50 000 Dong and 3 x 25 000 Dong for the oversized beers, fixed up, and we move up Bat Dan a little more.

Back in our spot, our cat returns to say hello, and then Matty rocks up a few minutes later.

His earlier procrastinating finally came to an end, when he bit the bullet and bought the artwork.

And post purchase, he has no regrets.  But it’s not just about the artwork itself, it’s also about the actual transaction and interaction with the artist himself.

The guy, apparently, was absolutely rapt when Matty agreed to buy his painting, to the point that he insisted on sharing a rice wine with him.

This blew Matty away, but it wasn’t just the offer of the rice wine.  It was also the realisation of what this sale meant to this guy, which then resulted him getting a bit emotional re-telling the story.

Like the sympathetic chucker (vomiter) I am, that then got me going too, as I thought about some of those moments where we not only received something, but we could clearly tell how much our moment also meant to the person we were interacting with.

In my eyes, it’s what it’s all about, and the fact that Matty had now experienced, and understood, a little about our experiences over the journey; well that just added to my overacting emotions.

Lucky it wasn’t a couple of weeks ago, when I was still on my own, with my occasional, almost blubbering mess, moments…..

More chatting, more beer, selfies to commemorate, not just tonight, but the last few days, and an exchanging of WhatsApp numbers.

With Matty.

It’s been fun, and while it’s been rather fleeting, and in all probability a once off, we do have a bit of a relationship.  Thailand might be his thing, with Vietnam obviously mine, but we’re similar.

Same, same, but different, I guess.

10.30pm, and it’s time to call it, as much as I don’t want to, and as much as I’m still struggling with my emotions.

The amount of beer probably isn’t helping, but it’s more than that, and then Matty makes it worse when he insists on paying for our beer.

‘No’, will not be taken for an answer, and the level of his insistence makes me well aware that protesting anymore is futile.

We part ways, reluctantly, and head off back ‘home’.

Into Stainless Steel Street, and while past memories, and that of our night tonight flood my overthinking mind, I’m given some respite when we drop into our convenience store.

My girl is there, and she gives us a big smile when we walk in.

A Coke, a packet of chips, and a few beers, with the exact number being four, which prompts an attempt at using my limited Vietnamese, as I count them out.

She laughs, and is kind of impressed, but only until I reach ‘four’.

While it’s một, hai, ba, bốn, my pronunciation of bốn is incorrect, and I’m given a lesson, which probably goes far longer than it should, due to my inability to get it right.

It was all rather funny, and she’s seriously lovely and so friendly, the way she puts up with my attempts at my ordinary Vietnamese.

But she’s now made it that little bit more difficult to leave now.

Back to the Emerald, and with Anh busy, we head straight up to the room.

Some notes, a few more beers I likely don’t really need, and a bit of Trip Advisoring, along with contemplation of our day, unsuccessful attempts at controlling my emotions, and trying not to think about the fact that we only have two full days left.

And it’s that last bit that is starting to hurt.

And frustrate, because I hate that I think like that.

Midnight arrives, and common sense prevails, with the pin pulled.

Time wise, it’s better.  But really, only slightly.

And the health issue?

Not great, but not awful.

But it is, perhaps, being masked a little by the beer.

Shall be interesting to see in the morning….

Cheers,

Scott