How long (Hà Nôi to Ha Long Bay, Vietnam)

Today dear reader we leave the anarchy and chaos of Hà Nôi for the peace and serenity of Ha Long Bay. The bay is the inspiration (or otherwise) for today's title. Another trek down memory lane to 1974 with UK band Ace and their hit How long.

It is one of those early starts, the first of many I fear. Loitering over my second coffee at breakfast has gone the way of the relevance of the Liberal Party to Australian politics. A mere memory. Perhaps in Cambodia when we farewell the tour group, our more relaxed lifestyle will return.

Bags tagged and put out for collection, we went to breakfast and then boarded the bus to head to Ha Long Bay. Overnight our family had grown by two as we were joined by a Kiwi couple who had had the holiday start from hell. They had arrived in Singapore to be informed that they could not proceed onto Vietnam because their visas did not have sufficient time on them. Apparently, they expired one day before they were due to leave Vietnam.

While the problem was sorted, they had to find somewhere to stay for 5 days before they could join the tour. They finally arrived at the hotel last night and so our group now totals 13 until we get to Ho Chi Minh City where we will be joining a larger group for the Mekong cruise.

Our 3.5 hour bus ride took us out of Hà Nôi away from what we could now see as a very smoggy environment, to the clearer countryside, past farms, ducks, small communities, rice paddy burial sites, ducks, rice paddies, and some larger towns. Did I mention there were ducks?

Our tour guide, Tea, punctuated the journey with stories about his childhood and family as well as some of his adult life in the big city. He is a very engaging storyteller and his personal anecdotes give insight into the Vietnamese culture and traditions which are so different to ours.

Tea, our tour guide.

He also provides context to particular features, at first unnoticed but then, once pointed out, apparent everywhere - like the fact that most Vietnamese houses are built with no side windows, only front and back ones. This is because everyone lives in such close proximity that no one wants to look out their window and see their next-door neighbour all the time (so Tea says anyway).

For that special room.

After about 90 minutes travel, it was time for a rest stop at a centre in a mining town that, for a number of reasons, is known as Red Star . It is a centre that was a target of ‘possession’ a number of times throughout history because of its valuable commodity – the name therefore denotes the struggle to defend it as a part of Vietnam, the blood that was shed and also the products of the mines – many precious gems, including the unique star ruby. This ruby, when held under a light, reveals a star emanating from its lustre. It is quite amazing.

Hard at work.

Our rest stop was at a centre which has been established as a social enterprise to provide training and employment for soldiers’ children who have a disability and would otherwise struggle to find work in a culture that heavily defines itself by productivity.

In this centre, young people are producing intricate works of embroidery, ceramics, clothes, jewellery and food. We wandered through watching them create their pieces which are then on display for purchase. One embroidery piece can take a month to complete, depending on its size and detail. Initially, this social concept came to life after the American War in which many people were genetically affected by the wanton spraying of agent orange across the area.

Jayne almost knocked me over in her eagerness to see the star rubies. Purely to see stones because they are so unusual. Not because she wanted to add one to her jewellery collection. There was a vast array of rings, earrings, pendants in both yellow and white gold. The star was indeed clearly visible under the light displays. Jayne selected a pendant but it was set in yellow gold – “No problem, our jewellers will reset it for you in white gold while you look around the centre.” That provided time for a couple of additional purchases and then the pendant came back reset, boxed with its certificate of authenticity. The Pandora disappointment of earlier in the week was wiped from memory. At least until we reach Ho Chi Minh.

It's a bit blurry, but you get the idea.

Back on the bus, we headed to Ha Long Bay where we were greeted at the Bhaya Cruise Centre at the marina. This is a waiting lounge for passengers to transit to and from the Ha Long cruise boats. It was very crowded, noisy and chaotic, so Hà Nôi, but thankfully we were not there very long before we were called to board the Àu Co II (pronounced ochre). The brief excitement here was due to an internet connection. The excitement and internet connection were both brief.

There is a lot of unfinished development.

We had already been given our cabin key so after passing through the traditional drum welcome on board, we went to our cabin to ensure our luggage had arrived. Once all was located, we headed upstairs for the welcome, introductions, orientation and safety briefing. The cabin is more spacious than anticipated and the air conditioning most welcome.

A king sized bed.

The verandah.

Lunch was then served, a four-course menu, as we cruised towards the south east part of the bay. It was immediately apparent that this is a very busy waterway with cruise ships and tankers everywhere. The waters are very calm and you are surrounded by limestone formations rising out of the water, most with sheer vertical sides. The mountains are thinly covered by vegetation, some sporting caves, where the waters have eaten the soft limestone. It is very beautiful but doesn’t quite live up to the ‘hollywood’ shots I’ve seen. The persistent haze removed any sharpness from the view.

Ok, it's colour enhanced.

These natural features provided some of the onboard offerings such as an afternoon visit to a small cave to walk through to a beach for swimming. The more energetic could go kayaking around the area. We elected to stay on board and enjoy the views from the deck. There was a bigger cave on offer tomorrow morning.

The 'small' cave.

After changing for dinner, the ship sailed to its anchor point for the night and everyone gathered on the bar/restaurant deck for happy hour, accompanied by a masterclass in spring roll making.

Another one.

Another four-course meal was served. We certainly won’t go hungry; this is an APT tour. The after-dinner experience - a Vietnamese rice wine tasting. Interesting. Wine? Not really. Saké. No. Liqueur? Most definitely. The lowest alcohol content was 28%. The taste varied with the product, obviously, although the ‘wine’ made from bark tasted like dirt. However, it had a medicinal element. It improves a bad back. So I drank Jayne’s as well. There was another that was strongly coconut flavoured and the pick of the bunch was Honey-Rose wine. The fourth one was as forgettable as the bark wine.

Sunset on the bay.

“Wine” that strong will ensure a good night’s sleep. After another busy day, we retired to our cabin to sleep in the quiet of the bay.

Until next time, if I can find an internet connection.

I feel possessed (Hà Nôi, Vietnam)

Hello again dear reader, it has been a busy couple of days. Currently we are on a bus, heading for Ha Long Bay, but that is the future. Let’s return to the past.

It is officially our last day of freedom, tomorrow evening the tour commences. While an organised tour has its benefits, we like our freedom, so today we decided we would tie up a few loose ends and have a relaxing day.

The historic tour of the hotel was interesting but it didn’t allow enough time for us to read all of the information on the boards. After breakfast, that is where we headed. The posters detail a potted history of the Metropole Hotel from its beginnings in 1901. It covers French occupation and wars, international and civil. One of the more interesting posters listed ‘famous visitors’. Generally, they were politicians and celebrities like Brad Pitt or more classically Somerset Maugham.

One of the posters

The Metropole became a pseudo activist centre during the American War. Famous American anti-war activists like Jane Fonda and Joan Baez stayed here. As did war correspondents from many different countries. It has been the centre of social and political life in Hà Nôi for many years.

An historic phone still in use.

Happily there were some Australian names on the ‘important persons’ list. Distressingly one was Scott John Morison. He was full-named. When your mum does that you know you’ve been bad, so it’s quite fitting, I guess. He was a bad PM. If I’d been his dad, I would have wiped that smirk of his smug little face when he was still a child.

Sorry, I digress. One excellent quote from Alfred Cunningham (I have no idea) was, “After a visit to Hà Nôi one is curious to learn what the French would have done with Singapore or Hong Kong if they had possessed them”. He sounds impressed and I love the colonisers’ use of the word ‘possessed’. Which of course inspired today's title. I feel possessed by Crowded House

A painting by Joan Baez completed while staying at the Metropole.

I haven’t checked, dear reader, because the hotel was booked for us as part of the tour, but I assume it is 5 star. The giveaway is that the staff hover like ringwraiths, waiting to swoop without notice. They can be walking down a corridor and will change direction to open a door for you, or push the elevator button. At breakfast, after selecting some delectable pastries, they stealthily sneak up behind you and pull your chair out as you are about to sit. Everywhere you go, you are met with ‘bonjours’ and ‘bonsoirs’ and bowing. All a bit disconcerting for a working-class boy. Sometimes for amusement value after I’m greeted in French, I continue with “ Comment ça va”? Usually I get a smile, but occasionally there is mild panic. Very few Sofitel staff speak more French than “hello”.

Jayne, not known for her powers of observation, is able to spot a Pandora store from 500 metres through haze, heavy traffic and crowds. Not here and she actually remarked on it. A quick question to Dr Google suggested the Pandora store was next door to the hotel and that we would have walked past it a dozen times. No way. I was shocked. Armed with our trusty paper map, we went in search for a trinket to represent Hà Nôi to commence the next bracelet (the original one is now fully occupied).

Oh what an adventure! Around the block and around the block we wandered without success. It appears that the Pandora store that was next door is no longer. Renovations. Jayne’s Pandora-detection sense had not failed her after all. Relieved, we adjourned for a beer, although we were probably drinking for different reasons. Ho Chi Minh City will have to be the first Vietnamese city to grace her new bracelet.

We found a wedding.

The afternoon was still ours to determine, before the tour officially commenced in the evening. On the food tour yesterday, we had asked Sinh, our guide, where we might find a place to purchase an Ào Dái as a birthday present for our oldest granddaughter. In the course of our meanderings around the Old City, Sinh took us down a street that contained a number of shops jam packed with these Vietnamese long dresses. He waved at all of them and then said, “We would go to Vinh Thang if we want one. Made on the premises from top quality silk.” This became the focus of our last free afternoon.

And another wedding.

We set out around the now very familiar lake to retrace our path to the Ào Dái street. A quick reconnoître of the other ready to wear shops led us into Vinh Thang’s shop, with sewing machine positioned right at the front door and the walls festooned with samples of silks, all colours and intricately embroidered, hanging from the ceiling, ready to be selected and sewn into the elegant Ào Dái.

And a car, but no Pandora.

A little elderly lady greeted us animatedly, waving her hands around and offering to retrieve samples from up on high. Unfortunately, she spoke no English and trying to communicate that we were shopping for our granddaughter, not Jayne, became a comedic but unsuccessful charades exercise. Jayne tried French to no avail and so we were forced to leave without securing the coveted order.

Luckily, we were also en route to collect the dresses from Daisy, and when we arrived at her shop, we asked her whether she could make an Ào Dái before we had to leave Hà Nôi. She showed us various designs and colours (on her phone this time – no trip to paradise) and we settled on something we liked. It would be delivered the next evening to our hotel, our last night in Hà Nôi.

Another walk around the lake and back to the hotel for a quick shower and change of clothes before dinner. We had a briefing with Tea (not Thi as I had assumed) and went to the Spice Restaurant in the hotel with the rest of our travel companions or family as Tea refers to us.

Then it was bedtime. I’m not sure whether the early nights are a product of the time zone shift, the humidity, the distance walked each day or a combination of all three. 

Until the next time I have an internet connection.

 

Rules of the road (Hà Nôi, Vietnam)

Hello again my dear reader. Today is day three in Hà Nôi. The weather has been relatively mild, top temperatures of around 27° and 70% humidity and the occasional light sprinkling of rain. It certainly hasn't stopped us getting out and about.

Breakfast this morning was in the main room, the one we weren't able to access yesterday. The offerings were the same and we double dosed our coffee today which provided a much better outcome.

The first part of today's expedition is to Uncle Ho's mausoleum and then to the Temple of Literature, via Train Street. Before we set out, Jayne decided to clarify the dress code for the a visit to the mausoleum and museum. She had three-quarter pants on and I was wearing shorts. Following the discussion we repaired to our room and changed into long pants. Jeans are not the fashion in this weather but must be endured lest we be locked out of the mausoleum. I don't understand what Uncle Ho has against knees and ankles. Unless you are some sort of fetishist, they can hardly be considered attractive or sexual.

Before taking our leave of the concierge, ever the optimist, Jayne inquired about changing her pillow for a firmer one from the hotel pillow menu. "Certainly, Madame. Which pillow would you like?" "The excel please and the my room number is...." "574, Madame. I remember your details from yesterday."  Clearly, the concierge staff quickly get to know who the trouble makers are.

Once again we stepped out into the rule-defying, death-defying, anarchic, chaotic Hà Nôi traffic. Even understanding how it works, it is not something to be trifled with or taken for granted. Motorbikes or scooters as they are referred to here, are in plague proportions, think food delivery drivers in Sydney. And they demonstrate as much respect for the road rules. One way streets are not. Scooters will come at you from any direction. Traffic lights appear to be mere suggestions only but have timers to show how long before the next change. The scooter riders pay no attention and weave in and out of cross traffic to continue their journey. The footpath or sidewalk is not either. It is a place to park your scooter or ride your scooter if the road is too crowded or a place to sit on stools and talk, drink and eat. And smoke. There are a lot of smokers beecause Uncle Ho was a smoker and "he is our father figure so we must follow his lead".

Yes, this is a footpath. At a major intersection.

Obviously the traffic inspired today's title. An absolute classic from 1962 by the late Tony Bennett, one of the best crooners in the industry. Enjoy. This is the sort of music I was brought up on. Cheers Dad.

Bravely we press on while attempting to ignore the persistent calls from the cyclo drivers and taxis that cruise beside you as you walk. Both make offers that remind you of paedophiles and kidnappers in B-grade movies. Side-stepping the fan and straw hat hawkers is also a thing.

Without warning, we arrive at Train Street. Literally without warning. It crosses a major road, maybe 6 lanes wide, no lights, no gates, no warning signs. Interesting. There is no such thing as WHS here and maybe that's not a bad thing - certainly the pendulum has swung too far the other way in Australia. However, I expected some sort of signage to say that a very large train passes across this major road.

WHS? Ah, not here.

The tourist area of Train Street is closed. There is a barricade which I assume is removed before the train arrives. It clearly states: STOP. NO ACCESS. In fact, the Train Street experience is actually banned by the government. Standing next to the sign is a woman who offers to take us to the other side of the barricade to enjoy a coffee and wait for the train. Yeah, nah. We push on.

Not too close to the bedroom.

The Mausoleum is located in an area that also contains the Botanic Gardens, the Presidential Palace, a museum and the one-pillar temple. It is quite vast and can be entered from a number of different streets. We arrived at one entrance to be pointed to another further down the street by a guard dressed in black. No worries, we continue on in the sun, agreeing to find a shady spot to sit for a while once inside the 'zone'.

Rather imposing.

As we arrive at the entry point, the couple in front of us, in shorts and ankle socks, is turned away. We exchanged glances, maybe our concierge gave us the good oil. Down to the security checkpoint. My backpack was x-rayed and we walked through the metal detector, safely into the park. The streets are decorated with flower boxes and are extremely wide. They need to be to cater for the military parades.

The sign in the background says no photos.

The Mausoleum stands out from its surrounds. I snapped a couple of photos under the watchful eye of a soldier in white dress uniform. Then we headed for the shade, avoiding the "no chewing gum" signs that are more prolific than the scavenging sparrows that inhabit every bush, shrub and tree.

Self-explanatory.

While Jayne read the map to get our orientation, I wandered around the immediate area. There was not a lot of signage. Indeed, there were not that many visitors. The souvenir shops were open and there were a few small tour groups being led by the nose, sorry flag, around the various sights. That will be us soon enough. Today we are enjoying our freedom.

Rested and re-hydrated, we turned our attention to the museum. Again, a building that dominates the immediate area. After being momentarily distracted by a squirrel (what a fluffy tail), we headed for the walkway around the building. We followed the signs that directed us to the main door and ticket office. Curiously we ended up right back where we started. The ticket office was closed. As was the museum. We later learned, it, like most museums in Hà Nôi, is closed on Monday and Friday, which is not what the notice board stated in the tourist shop area. 

Cute and fluffy.

Ah well, another Mont Saint Michel moment. Do you remember that, dear reader? Does your memory stretch back to 2011? May 1, in fact. Mont Saint Michel in France is closed for ONE day of the year. May 1. The day we visited. Much like today it had its benefits, there were no crowds. Although we have both suffered the stupidity of wearing long pants for no purpose. The concierge has failed. She should have told us the museum was closed. Instead, ill-informed, we trudged way across the city. As it turns out, we will be able to see the museum and mausoleum with our tour group later in the week, so all is not lost.

We checked out the (unimpressive) single pillar temple. Jayne described it as a one-beam temple. Not really said I. Checks notes, oh, one-pillar. Whatever.

The one-pillar temple. Buzz buzz.

Despite our unsuccessful attempt to see the monuments to the founding father, we continued onto the Temple of Literature which happily was open. The temple, built in the 11th century, is actually dedicated to Confucius, and housed Vietnam's first national university until the 18th century. Located in the middle of a busy quarter of Hà Nôi, the gardens, pools, pavilions and shrines are set out behind high stone walls, creating an atmosphere of tranquility and contemplation that celebrates wisdom, virtue and intellectual pursuits.

Arty shot from one area of the Temple gardens to another.

There are halls of stelae, stone slabs that record the Doctors and their academic achievements as well as shrines where offerings are made to scholars and sages. The stelae looked remarkably like headstones and were set atop stone turtles - the symbol of wisdom and knowledge in many Asian countries. The turtle not the headstone.

I wonder if ACU is planning to do this?

After this oasis of calm had been explored, we re-entered the chaos of Hà Nôi's streets to wander through the craft area with its array of shops, all selling similarly garish artworks, as we made our way back to our hotel in the heat and humidity. Time for a rest before tonight's food tour with Sinh. He was recommended by Glenn - cheers, excellent recommendation.

The king's walkway to the main gate. Students and common people to the left and right please.

We met Sinh in the foyer of the historic part of the hotel and set off at 4:30. We had been warned by Sinh (and Glenn) not to eat lunch. Good advice. We wandered down to the lake and across to the old town, Sinh providing commentary on the way about various sights and linking them with the history of Hà Nôi.

The food was divine. Small shops that sell the one dish. No booking. Turn up and eat the speciality, the recipe of which has been passed down through the family. We began with fried rice flour pancake. It was wrapped in rice paper with green salad leaves and dipped in a mixture of fish sauce and lemon juice spiced with chilli. Absolutely delicious.

Bánh Xèo (I think)

The next dish, as you can see from the photo, was also delicious. Probably too much, which is why one plate is completely empty. Two dishes, one pork, the other chicken, mixed with wood ear mushroom wrapped in rice paper and steamed. Again a dipping sauce based around fish sauce.

Bánh Cûon

Then it was time for pho. No need for an explanation. Noodles, meat, green leaves, carrot, papaya and crunchy onion and garlic. And the soup of course. Yum.

Pho.

The 'main course' was charred pork belly, noodles, leaves, green mango in a broth. By this time we were both struggling to finish what was in front of us, despite not having eaten since breakfast. This was the dish that was famously enjoyed by former US President Barack Obama when he visited Hà Nôi. Good choice, there was nothing to fault here and it was washed down with the local Hà Nôi beer.

Bún Cha

The next stop was dessert. Well, two actually. The first was sticky rice balls stuffed with mung bean in ginger syrup, topped with peanuts. Interesting and probably not for me. The texture is very glutinous and chewy. The syrup is refreshing. It is certainly a collision of flavours and textures.  The second dessert (sorry, no picture) was ice cream with rice that had been cooked with pandanus leaves to make it green, topped with fresh coconut and fried coconut flakes. This was more to my liking but I had already eaten way too much.

Ché Nuoc.

There was one more stop to make to sample the "best spring rolls in Hà Nôi" but neither Jayne nor I could eat another bite. They are just small spring rolls, assured Sinh, but when I saw the size the answer was obvious. No thank you. We turned toward the hotel and waddled home to bed. 

What an excellent experience. We saw the old city after dark and it is a very different experience. The roads are still deadly, but the night changes the feel. There are more tourists out wandering around looking for food or shopping and the cleaners appear after a particular time when the shopkeepers are permitted to put the rubbish out for daily collection.

Back home in our room I checked my watch to see that we had walked over 15 km. And it felt like it. Time for a shower, lots of water and some blogging before bed.

Until tomorrow.