Vietnam 2024 – Trip Report 8

Monday 16 September – Tuesday 17 September – Mai Chau – Hanoi

Monday 16 September

Up a bit after 8.00am, and the plan to re-live the bike ride from ten years ago, looks doubtful.

A storm that rolled in during the night, lighting up the room with some pretty impressive lightning, is still lingering, with steady rain still falling.

We get ourselves sorted, ponchos utilised; mental note taken that ponchos really need to be completely dry when they’re packed away, otherwise they smell; and we head out to do something about breakfast, that I don’t really feel like.

Up to the main road, and down to the place we went to the other day, and it’s phở bò (30 000 Dong), after extricating ourselves from our plastic.

It’s okay, but not the best we’ve had.

Breakfast out of the way, ponchos back on, and off down the road to the Agribank ATM. The limit of three million is extracted (22 000 Dong fee), and with the rain having now stopped, ponchos are once again removed.

Back towards home, stopping at a small café just down from the An Huy, to both enjoy a much wanted cà phê sữa đá (25 000 Dong), and to give us a chance to see what this weather is doing.

Good news on both fronts, with the cà phê sữa đá being one of the best we’ve had for a while, and the weather looking like the rain is a thing of the past.

Coffees done, a detour is made to collect the laundry. Our lady is nowhere to be seen, and the house is all locked up.

Back to the An Huy, and for the first time since we’ve been here, we have neighbours, who are in the room we were originally assigned.

We get a smile, but it’s a forced smile, and they don’t appear overly happy.

Out by 11.30am, the picturesque walk through the rice fields, and then into the ‘made up’, that is Lac Village.

We find another bike place, and like yesterday, they’re 50 000 Dong for the day.

On our way, and needing to get back to the main road, we attempt it by using small paths, as opposed to the main road in.

Lush green fields, and a lovely scenic ride, but the path runs out, when it reaches a river.

Back to find the ‘main’ road.

Google Maps is consulted, and the decision is made that it’s just easier to do it the ‘normal’ way.

Back through the fields, and onto the road out, and Lisa alerts me to a problem.

Her back tyre is no longer the usual symmetrical shape that tyres should be, with a section of it now bulging out on one side.

Seriously, this whole biking thing in Mai Chau…..

Back to our bike hirer, avoiding the pile of vomit that his dog has just deposited at the entrance, and the bike is swapped.

Up to the main road the most efficient way, and then turn right. Past my beer places, and then out of town.

It’s pretty easy going, as the road is flat, and while there’s not really anything of note from a stunning scenery point of view, it’s all very pleasant, with the usual sights of rural Vietnam.

School is out, and we get plenty of waves and hellos, including from one young boy, who then gives us the middle finger to end our interaction.

Wonder if he has a cousin in Phong Nha……

Through a couple of villages, then navigate a shallow, but also really cold, river crossing over the road.

On we go, some familiar sights, and also some that aren’t quite so familiar, but my memory, along with confirmation from Google Maps, alerts me to the turn off required.

Off to the right, and then left into a small village, full of character filled stilt houses.

Past all the houses, and then there, in front of us, is what I was hoping we’d find. It’s the suspension bridge, which we crossed ten years ago with the kids.

We head over, but it all looks different, and I’m now doubting my memory.

The path I thought that went off to the right looks to not really exist anymore, with it looking more just like a wet and muddy grassy area.

I take a chance, and Lisa follows, and a bit further up, and just over a small rise, it all comes flooding back.

This is exactly where we came ten years ago, and it pretty much signalled the beginning of the ‘wow’ moment, that that ride became.

Lush green rice fields; minority villager’s houses beside the narrow road; and mountains in the distance.

We pull over, and just spend a few minutes taking it all in. It’s postcard stuff, and it’s just as beautiful as I remember.

That earlier rain is a distant memory, and with the sun beating down, it’s now becoming rather hot.

The ride continues, making it into the little village, which unlike Lac Village, is as authentic as it gets.

We find a small family run convenience store, and with not too much in the way of cold drink options, we settle on a couple of fruit tea drinks (10 000 Dong each).

Yes, they’re cold, but they’re just so ridiculously sweet, that two small waters (5000 Dong) are also purchased from the incredibly friendly guy, to water them down.

Up a bit further, we turn off to the right, crossing back over the river again.

I was slightly worried that it may not live up to my 10 year old memory. I worried for nothing.

It’s starting to get hard, partly due to the heat, but also because we’re now spending most of our time navigating a slight incline.

Several stops are made, trying to help nurse the intrepid one along, before turning off onto the road we took last time we were here, still attempting the retracing of our steps. Or wheels.

More traditional houses, lots of xin chào’s, and even some directional help, when we go the wrong way.

A brief roadside English, and Vietnamese, lesson, with a group of young girls, and then back to the main road.

It’s hot, and it’s getting harder, but we push on, finally getting back to Lac Village around 3.00pm.

Our 32 kilometres, thanks to some app on Lisa’s phone, complete, our bikes are dropped off, and we head off out of Lac Village for the final time.

Past a bus group of day trippers from Hanoi, and then a group of western tourists on a cycling tour.

Yep, we’re clearly not where we were earlier, with us only seeing two other tourists the whole time.

Through the rice fields, and then to this morning’s café, and while Lisa looks after the ordering, I head down to see if our laundry lady is back.

She is, and she’s very apologetic, even though it really made no difference to us, that she wasn’t there this morning, explaining, with the help of Google Translate, that she’s been out doing charity work.

105 000 Dong for our three kilos handed over, and then back to the café for the pineapple juice that’s been ordered for me.

Juices done (25 000 Dong), and seeing as we somehow missed lunch, we head up to the main street, to see if we can find a snack.

A sweet-ish bánh mì, and a sweet pull apart thing, which kind of does the job.

Back to the An Huy, Lisa left with the job of finalising our transport back to Hanoi, after ‘chatting’ with the girl earlier today, and I head down to my original beer place, on my trusty yellow bike.

She’s open today, and I quickly have a bia hoi, just in time to see the kids start arriving for their soft drink fix.

A bit of WhatsApp to let people know we’re still alive, and then I pull the pin after the second one, feeling like a bit of a hinderance, as opposed to a wanted customer.

Back up to last night’s place, and he gives me a big smile when he sees me.

In my spot out on the footpath, happiness restored, but when the only other customers leave, I start to get the feeling that he wants to close up.

Feeling a little unwanted, I finish my third and make a move, taking the scenic route again, down through the rice fields.

Another last, and I’m going to miss it.

Back home, a quick shower, and confirmation that we do in fact have a means of getting to Hanoi tomorrow.

But it wasn’t easy, as it was pretty much left to Lisa to confer with the transport company, when our girl couldn’t complete the transaction of what, for a Vietnamese local, and one in the accommodation business, should have been a very simple task. And also, one that I would have thought she’d done countless times.

Lisa was, however, invited to watch cartoons with her, which she politely declined.

And the end result of getting to Hanoi?

250 000 Dong each, some sort of van, pick up between 8.00am and 8.15am, and drop off at the Opera House.

Out by 7.00pm, and down to the hot pot place we had a beer at last night.

The staff, who are the only ones in there, are having dinner themselves, and there appears to be some issue with what they can do for us.

I’m really not fussed what we have; not a huge hotpot fan anyway; so I use Google Translate to say we’d be happy with some sort of beef and vegetable stir fry meal.

Whatever the issue was, seems to have disappeared, and they appear much more comfortable.

It soon arrives, and it’s good, as is the bia hoi.

We sit, chat, and Lisa hits me with home related stuff, which after managing to put all of that out of my mind over the last few days, brings it all back again.

I really didn’t want, nor need, that ‘normal / real life’ reminder. I’m annoyed.

Dinner done, 180 000 Dong bill fixed up, and we call into my convenience store for supplies on the way home.

10 000 Dong bar of soap, along with beers at 15 000 Dong, which were 12 500 the last two days, and she couldn’t be less interested as she continues her phone conversation.

Things seem to be conspiring against me……

Back to the An Huy, the usual on the bed, all accompanied by an awkward silence.

Annoyed, but perhaps more annoyed that I’ve allowed it to annoy me, I head outside to sit by the pool for a bit.

That solo wallowing in self-pity thing.

It’s almost 10.00pm, and the homestay hosts have just had some friends, or maybe family, arrive, and a few of them are sitting down the other end of the pool watching the outside television.

There’s a bit of noise going on, and after what we’ve seen the last few days, this little gathering isn’t making the whole thing any less ‘unusual’.

A couple more beers, see a firefly in the distance, and the ‘party’ finishes up.

11.30pm, time for bed.

It’s been an interesting few days in Mai Chau, but at times, it’s been hard work.

The initial room issue, the bike problems, both here and hiring them outside, and to a lesser extent, the food options available.

It’s made me question, again, what we do. But really, it’s probably more about what we don’t want to do.

Lac Village, for instance. Which we have actually stayed in.

We could stay there, and Lisa thinks she likes it over there, but I just feel kind of trapped in a place like that.

Eat at your homestay, or possibly eat at another homestay, it’s easy. And while easy is often good, where’s the fun in easy?

Conversing and dealing with locals in the hospitality industry, relying on the tourist dollar, or doing the same with locals in the same industry, but ones that survive regardless of whether they see a tourist or not?

Having said that, it was hard to fault our time in Lac Village, which is now two years ago.

Our host was lovely, our room came with a key, and the food supplied was excellent.

Yep, hard to fault.

We only had the one night there, which wasn’t enough, but at the same time, I’m not sure I’d have wanted two nights.

That trapped thing again, along with the whole contrived nature of the place.

Ten years ago, it was the Mai Chau Valley View. A far more upmarket place, which we absolutely loved.

But we did that the easy way too, by having dinner at the hotel on both nights.

Mai Chau was perhaps a bit different back then, but then again, so too were we.

So, conundrum.

Contrived and easy? Or, local and rustic, where you have to work a little, perhaps also having to put up with certain ‘small issues’, that conspire against your time there?

The An Huy has probably helped convince Lisa of her decision, but for me, it’s a bit harder.

Would I stay here again?

No, not if it continues as it currently is.

But, now being of the belief that I have a better understanding of the goings on of the An Huy, I really do hope they can make the changes required to make it a more polished version of what is currently offered.

It has great potential, especially with the area that it’s in, and it gives people an alternative to the contrived stuff just down the road.

But they need help, as I’m not sure they’re capable of ‘fixing’ it themselves.

Tuesday 17 September

5.45am, and we’re awake. But not by choice.

Dad is outside watching television, with the volume loud enough that we can all hear it with him.

Head shaking stuff, and probably confirmation of my thoughts last night.

Surprisingly, sleep does return, and the alarm gets to do its thing at 7.00am.

Get organised, pack up, and then outside by 8.00am. There’s no one around.

The view from our front door. There’s even a TV under the umbrella!…….

A few minutes later, a limo van pulls up, and yep, it’s going to Hanoi.

Lisa retrieved, and with still no one with any attachment to the An Huy around, I leave what was agreed to, under a container, on the desk outside.

Lucky I didn’t have to leave a key, as well…..

Into the van, and the thought crosses my mind that I may have also needed to pay the An Huy for the transport to Hanoi.

Oh well, I can’t ask who is not there.

On our way, and it’s just us and a local girl, who is already dozing.

Through the lanes, and up to the main road, we pick up another local guy, and then we’re off and up the mountain.

The driving is alright, and I’m pretty impressed with our van, which is quite possibly the most comfortable we’ve been in.

Down the other side of the mountain, and into flat open countryside.

A sign tells me we have one hundred kilometres to go, having started at one hundred and thirty, so a bit of snoozing is attempted, to help pass the time.

It sort of works, but the almost constant bouncing of the van, makes it a little difficult.

We leave the highway ninety minutes in, dropping off the guy in some unknown town, before returning to it.

The road becomes more expressway than highway, and as it does, our speed increases.

It fills me with no comfort, and just helps to reconfirm my dislike for longer distance road travel here.

It’s hard to sit back and relax, never really feeling confident that all road users will ‘do the right thing’.

As I follow on Google Maps, trying to get an idea of how long to go, I get a message from Jenny at the Emerald.

Our room, apparently, is already ready, which is nice to know.

The only other passenger remaining is then dropped off, and not long after, we reach the outskirts of Hanoi.

And with it, all of Hanoi’s traffic.

It’s slow going, but we eventually reach the Opera House around 11.00am.

500 000 Dong handed over, and much to Lisa’s annoyance, we walk.

I ain’t getting a Grab from here.

Across towards the lake, but not in the most efficient way possible, with the finding of the Metropole proving that.

Interestingly, although perhaps not, the repair of the pavement around the hotel is well underway, after several trees nearby were uprooted during the storm.

I guess some pavements are more important than others….

Correction made, a slight detour to make use of a public toilet, and then back to a still grumpy looking Lisa, waiting less than patiently for me to return.

She then informs me that she has stomach pains, which may, or may not, explain her grumpiness.

Great…..

We push on, around the lake, and then up to the Emerald.

Kate is there, and she quickly arranges a couple of juices for us, before Jenny appears from the stairs.

A quick chat, and then up to our room, with Jenny promising to bring up the bag we had left.

Up in the lift, card used to open room #601, and there, on the bed, a surprise.

Towels folded and shaped like swans, and flower petals arranged in a heart shape .

Wow!

We’d told Jenny last year when we were here, that we really needed to come back this year, seeing as it would not only be the tenth anniversary of our first trip to Vietnam, but it would also coincide with our 30^th wedding anniversary, as well.

And now, 12 months later, she’s remembered that conversation.

A knock at the door, and it’s Jenny. But not just with our bag, but also an anniversary cake.

The whole thing just blows me away, to the point of feeling a little emotional, but it’s just confirmation of the lengths that Jenny, and the rest of the staff here at the Emerald, will go to.

And that’s been evident right from the start, when we stayed here for the first time two years ago.

A quick unpack, and with Lisa feeling a little fragile, I leave her to herself, and head downstairs to see about finding a cà phê sữa đá.

Jenny’s already back at the desk, and mentions joining them in the breakfast room for lunch.

It’s gratefully accepted, but I’m not sure how Lisa is going to go with food.

Outside, and up to the coffee shop on the corner of Hang Bong, which I’ve been to before. It’s never my first choice, but it is close, and it’s actually not a bad people and vehicle watching spot.

Hanoi. Coffee. Footpath. Three ticks!

Coffee done (33 000 Dong), and back to the Emerald at 12.30pm.

Lisa is a little average, but makes the effort, and seeing as we’re never going to eat the cake all by ourselves, we take it downstairs to share with everyone.

Jenny and Kate are there, as too one of the housekeepers, as well as the owner of the hotel.

A hot pot, some pork, rice, and greens, and Jenny has even organised a few beers.

The food is great, and even the cake, for this non dessert eater, is good, but it’s the opportunity to do it with people so genuine and so giving, that is the real highlight.

We are truly very lucky.

Lunch done, and yes, not surprisingly, forced to eat more than I normally would, and we head out to find a pharmacy, in the hope of trying to rectify Lisa’s issue.

A small one over the road, or the big one on the corner, and apparently because big ‘shops’ are better than little ones, we choose the big one.

Google Translate, along with some English, and we end up with some sort of probiotic. That’s fine, but the 360 000 Dong charge is an eye opener.

Money handed over, and I receive more in change than was originally given.

While I’m tempted, I just can’t, and the excess is returned to the grateful pharmacist.

Back to the Emerald for a rest and recovery session, which actually results in some sleep.

With Lisa still waiting for the probiotics to do their thing, I head out just after 3.00pm.

Around the corner to my nước mía đá guy from the last couple of years, and nước mía đá (10 000 Dong) ordered. He gives me a look that suggests he remembers, and I sense that he actually wants to have a conversation, but he can’t bring himself to do it.

I get it, and it’s moments like these that make me feel guilty that I know so very little Vietnamese.

He sets about fixing my drink, and as he does, a guy sitting out the front, already enjoying one, insists I sit down to wait. Being rather insistent, and not wanting to offend, I do.

My drink arrives, this time in an actual glass, and I sit with my new ‘friend’, while watching a playful dog, who wants to be the centre of attention, but not be touched, go about his day.

Drink done, appreciative farewell given, and I head off to aimlessly walk the streets of the Old Quarter.

After our very quick visit a week ago, it’s nice to actually be able to see a bit of it, and even better to see it looking so much better than last week.

They have done so much work to clean it up after Typhoon Yagi tried to destroy it.

The aimless walking eventually leads me, not at all accidentally, to Bat Dan Street around 4.00pm, and a seat is taken on the footpath.

It’s great to be back, and great to see my beer guy, Thien, again.

A few beers, a bit of WhatsApp, all while watching the two guys diagonally opposite, jumping from balcony to balcony, while they do what appears to be some sort of electrical work.

It’s not a long way up, but high enough that it’s going to hurt, should it go wrong.

A tour group of four, along with their guide, turn up on Grab bikes, and one of the women in the group feels the need to tip the, obviously excellent, service of the Grab guys. She hands one of the unsuspecting ones a 200 000 Dong note, with instructions to split it with the others.

The guide watches on, no doubt excited at what’s potentially coming his way, while splendidly decked out all in white. White pants, white shirt, white shoes.

It’s a colour, but perhaps not strictly really a colour, that I strongly avoid wearing in Vietnam.

Partly due to my clumsiness, but also because of where we find ourselves sitting.

Dark colours are much more forgiving.

The grumpy and somewhat rude guy from the last two years, who always appears to be wearing pyjamas, then turns up.

It’s, kind of, good to see him again. Over to the lotto store he goes; it’s been his constant, but then jumps in a car with two others, instead of coming back for his usual beers.

How dare he change his routine.

The woman I spoke to last year, heads across after parking her bike on the other side, taking a seat a few tables down.

Her mate, who looks like a Vietnamese version of Willie Nelson, then appears, and while neither saw me, it’s still great to see them doing what they were doing a year ago.

I love the continuity; the same old, same old.

It’s comforting.

All of a sudden, there’s a mad scramble to retrieve tables and chairs from the edge of the footpath.

Yep, the police are out ‘doing their job’ of uncluttering Hanoi’s un-declutterable streets.

An exercise in pointlessness.

Everything is cleared, the police sit for a moment to make sure it stays that way, then they move off.

Tables and chairs are then returned to where they were.

Well worth the effort…..

Time to make a move, beers at 13 000 Dong fixed up, and it’s back down to Stainless Steel Street, calling in to my convenience store along the way.

My girl is there, and she gives me a smile as I walk in.

A few beers, and because I’m the caring husband that I am, a can of Coke for the ill one, back in the room.

Up to pay, and she tells me the amount in Vietnamese.

Ooooh, a lesson!

I ask her to say it again. Slowly.

“Một trăm lẻ một”, she repeats.

Brain ticks over, then I tentatively answer, “101?”

“Yes!”

I’m rapt! She’s a little bit impressed.

The lesson continues, and believe it not, I now possess another couple of words, which just means I now have more words to ultimately forget.

I then finally get around to doing what I should have done last year, and the answer to my question, is that her name is Linh.

She’s lovely, and I really appreciate the fact that she takes the time to engage.

Back to the Emerald, and despite Lisa still not being great, she’s forced to learn about my newly found knowledge.

She’s not as impressed as Linh was.

A shower, another beer, and then out to do something about dinner.

Lisa’s nervous, but I sell her the soup idea, seeing as soup is good for you when you’re sick. Apparently.

Around the corner to our phở bò place, and with a little help from Google Translate, we get our point across that Lisa would like phở bò, but minus the bò bit.

They understand, and more importantly, understand why.

Both dishes quickly arrive, along with a Saigon beer (20 000 Dong), and a trà đá (5000 Dong), for the sickly one.

The food, as per usual, is good, and the view and goings on never boring. I just love sitting here.

The bill is fixed up, with the vegetarian version of phở bò being 20 000 Dong, which is 30 000 Dong cheaper than the beef version.

It’s clear that I’ll be doing tonight on my own, so I do the chivalrous thing and walk Lisa back to the Emerald.

With my new found freedom, and just for the hell of it, I head down towards the lake, and then up my first ever favourite street in Hanoi, Underwear Lane.

I still like it, but I think I’ve somewhat moved on, with its appeal not quite being there as much as it used to.

It’s probably more that Stainless Steel Street now has a bigger chunk of my heart.

Up Ta Hien, and it’s madness, with people everywhere.

A man approaches me, and holds out his phone so I can see the screen.

It takes me a second, and as I realise I’m looking at a photo of a naked woman, he says, “Very beautiful!”

“I’m sure she is, but no thanks”, is my reply with a laugh.

For some reason, that never happens when Lisa is with me…..

Up a bit further, an offer of ‘lady massage’, is received, which then gets me thinking about what Ta Hien has become.

It’s certainly not Bui Vien Street in Saigon, but gee, it does seems to be heading down that path.

Through the seemingly never ending stream of restaurant touts, onto Ma May Street, and then up the narrow road to a bia hoi place I’ve been to a couple of times.

It’s pretty quiet, but it is full of locals, so I partake. Twice.

A bit underwhelming, the 24 000 Dong bill is paid, and I head off in the direction of Bat Dan.

Past Nam Bittet, our ‘last’ restaurant for a number of years, and police barricading surrounds it.

Not really sure what’s going on there…..

Finally reach Bat Dan, seat taken, and as Thien delivers my first beer, he says, “You my friend”.

That gets me, and I can do little more than shake his hand.

Sit, watch, and while there’d been the usual steady stream of traffic go past, that suddenly changes.

Cars and bikes, as well as a bus or two, begin to fill Bat Dan, and then it all comes to stop. It’s gridlocked, and people are going nowhere in a hurry.

It’s absolutely nuts, with my belief being that it’s all related to the Mid-Autumn festival.

I love the manic traffic of Vietnam at the best of times, and these occasional traffic jams just add to the whole enjoyment.

But only if you’re looking on, and not actually stuck in it.